Times are in SLT.
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Conditioning with Coach Nara
Join Coach Nara for another Strength and conditioning class in the Gymnasium
Times are in SLT.
Join Coach Nara for another Strength and conditioning class in the Gymnasium
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Word on the street... In Hathian’s twisted heart, chaos wore many faces yesterday. Word dripped from alley to alley about a wild-eyed driver ramming a bus through the pawn shop’s front, scattering glass, bodies, and bravado—a reckless display that left one battered, another vanished into the shadows, and the police scrambling to patch their pride. Meanwhile, the city’s blue line clashed violently with the Rejects under flickering neon near Berthier, a riot of fists, steel, and fractured alliances leaving law and order choking on dust. Yet not all birth was violence—a pair of twins drew first breath in the gutter’s shadow, proof that even here, life claws its way in.
Whispers in the bayou... Another night slid through the rotten teeth of Laveau, and the bayou whispered secrets between the slick brick alleys. Word dripped from the marina that someone snuck illicit cargo off a battered trawler—boxes that glowed faint in the dark, guarded by men who didn’t blink at gunfire. Meanwhile, at the Barracuda, an argument between a wildcard regular and a Syndicate hardcase left a shattered glass and more than one black eye for the floor to clean up. And atop the old jazz bar’s balcony, a shadow broker met with desperate souls, peddling rumors that the Penitentiary’s silence is about to break. Watch your back—Laveau’s hungry.
Rumors on campus... Under the brooding shadow of Columtreal’s age-stained asylum, yesterday’s secrets simmered beneath the city’s rain-slicked paths. Whispers from the Burger Pit and Papa Pepperoni floated like smoke—someone was seen slipping mysterious envelopes between cars, just out of the faculty’s line of sight. Over at Murphy’s Pub, hushed voices hinted at an illicit wager reaching deep into Greek life, making even the bartenders wary. Meanwhile, the campus clinic treated more than cuts and bruises—rumor has it a faculty member confided a scandalous confession during a routine check-up. At Columtreal, every shadow looms with purpose, and every overheard word might just unravel someone’s future.
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