Times are in SLT.
Join the CU Looter Cheerios for practice and tryout if you want, since its like an artic blast out there and the ground is hard as rocks we will be in the gym
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Latest in World...
Word on the street... In the shadow-soaked streets of Hathian, yesterday’s air thickened with whispered chaos. The Rejects made their desperate stand at Rader Records, turning the vinyl shop into a battleground where bullets sang and blood painted the floor. Rumor has it, a wild card stepped in—stabbed an officer through bulletproof—barely escaping death’s grip. Meanwhile, whispers swirl around the Clam Convenience Store, where a mysterious cold cash exchange fuels a new, dangerous flavor brewing in the city’s underbelly. And the asylum of ice cream? Locals joke about a concoction so wicked it’s said to make demons follow you home—no refunds, of course. Trust is a currency no one here can afford.
Whispers in the bayou... ░▒░ Down at the docks, the woman with smoke-tinged eyes sat slow, popping a marshmallow between cracked lips as she whispered about a skinless face leaping from the asylum’s window — like she’d been someone lost to time in ’37, while shadows scrubbed the bloodied glass below. ░▒ ▒░ And that wasn’t the only chill crawling through Port Laveau; talk’s swirling about hidden tunnels beneath the town, secrets the Syndicate buries deep, and spirits restless enough to feed on the humid dusk, waiting for a spark to ignite their hunger. ░▒ ░▒░ From his perch on the balcony, the deputy watched the night darken, eyes narrowing at the rumor’s thread — wondering which of those ghosts might still walk free, skin or no skin, waiting for the next soul to catch. ░▒ ✨ https://news.backwaters.sl
Rumors on campus... Columtreal’s mossy stones whispered secrets louder than ever yesterday. The word on campus? A late-night swim party turned wild—rumors swirl of a clandestine gathering on a floaty, where inhibitions sank faster than the beer kegs. Some say it was less about the water and more about what happened beneath the surface. Elsewhere, a quiet tension brewed around a mysterious departure: a man with a knack for disappearing after cryptic exchanges, leaving questions hanging in smoky air. Meanwhile, a newcomer caught attention, fanning herself with a sweaty grin, weaving through fractured alliances like she owned the night. At Columtreal, the past stays buried only if you don’t dig.
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