1. Find Bag 2. ????? 3. Profit!

[Tim Tawfeek]

Tim really should just give up attempting to do any and all physical activities. It just did not work out for him. At all. In fact, it generally had the opposite effect of working, making him feel, well, usually like he sucked at everything in existence. He felt a little less sucky today, though he wasn't entirely sure if you could blame the physical activity thing for that. He'd been attempting the basketball, mostly because it seemed marginally more tolerable than the alternatives (that and he'd yet to find anyone willing to play Ping-pong; the quest continues).

He'd done... okay, very, very okay. The issue lay more with how very, very tired he happened to be. He slouched off toward the locker room feeling like all he really wanted to do was stand under the shower and cry. He got most of the way there when he saw this gym bag stuffed behind a bleacher. Tim had actually started to walk right past it before realizing that it did, in fact, exist. He'd pulled his body around and taken a look, blinking. Tim even removed his glasses, rubbed them, and then put them back on, doing some more blinking.

Bag was still there.

Tim looked left, looked right, then stepped forward. He grabbed the bag, pulling it out from the bleachers. That makes the action sound a lot easier than it actually was: for the moment Tim started pulling, he felt the weight of the bag shifting on him, threatening to topple him completely over. He backpedaled yet still managed to end up with the bag tripping him up, landing hard on the floor. Tim groaned, shifted to adjust his glasses, and opened up the bag.

To find it filled with several ziplock baggies. Tim's eyes went wide as he reached into the bag, pulling it out and staring hard, not quite believing it. It looked, well, it looked like, well, drugs or something. Tim gaped, wondering if he should be reporting this or, well, a few courses of action passed his mind that weren't exactly... kosher.

[Trevor Paige]

Contrary to popular belief, drugs were the least favorite thing of Trevor's to mess with. He never thought of doing them, didn't care to be around those who did, and it was the rare commodity he didn't feel comfortable selling. Regardless, he knew a good deal when he saw one. After a falling out with a contact of his in town, Trevor was forced to go through different channels to keep his revenue stream going. He didn't like it, but there happened to be a group of people involved he did not want to disappoint.

The cannabis had come as it always did, in brick form. This proceeded to make Trevor feel like he was in some terrible gangster movie and promptly hired someone else to divide and package the product into nice, conveniently sold portions. Conducting such business on campus went against his own protocols, but desperate times necessitated desperate acts. At least the guy did it on the sly and on the cheap. The cut of the product he was allowed to keep assured Trevor had a bargaining chip should anything get out about the temporary operation. All Trevor had to do was pick up the bag and...

Well shit.


The moment Trevor spotted the other boy with the open bag in front of him he immediately added a new statute to his doctrine.  'Never work with idiots' instantly became rule number one.  A low groan escaped his throat as he drew closer to bench the bag had been, obviously, poorly stuffed behind.  The kid didn't look the type to be bribed by the drug itself, which suited Trevor just fine. He also looked smart enough to no buy any bullshit.  No, Trevor needed to play this straight.  Or, well, as straight as he usually played such things.  Nothing could stop him from getting that bag into his dorm room as soon as possible.

"That's a helluva haul you found."  Trevor said once he'd gotten close enough to speak to Tim without raising his voice much.  His dark eyes dropped to the contents of the bag.  At least his guy did a good job in packaging it and it looked as though it was all there.  Reaching down he plucked one of the baggies up to get a better look at it.  He shifted the plastic bag of green around in his hand a moment.  "What it looks like you've got here is six pounds of Colombian cannabis already sealed in half ounce packages."  Trevor's eyes shifted to the older boy.  "You can get a good buck-fifty per out of that."

[Tim Tawfeek]

The voice made Tim jump, dropping the baggie he'd had in his hand, which fell into the bag with hardly a "plunk." He turned to Trevor, blinking owlishly, not quite believing that someone else stood there, someone that Tim recognized. He hadn't exactly hung out with the other guy before, but since Tim did make it his business to know things, he knew of Trevor Paige. Had technically done a shot or two of him too, mostly involving prom, at least recently. Tim licked his lips and looked down at the stuff, then back at Trevor.

"Wait, what? Nononono, this isn't mine," he said, holding the gym bag up. "I just found it. Back there, behind the bleachers," he pointed at more or less the area he'd actually found it, then looked back at Trevor. "Totally just found it. I mean, seriously, I know I'm, like, black and all, but I'm all middle-class and nerdy and stuff. I just failed miserably at basketball, which should totally attest to how very not black I am. I can sorta rap though. so, yeah," he swallowed and held the bag as far away from him as possible.

"This, this is so not mine. I was just--uhh, gonna go turn it in. Yep, that was totally the plan," he nodded then, wishing he'd thought of that sooner than five seconds ago. Might've made it sound a little more believable when he said it. 'cuz right now, Tim wasn't even sure he bought it.

[Trevor Paige]

Trevor saw the hint of recognition in the other boy's face. That could either be a boon or a detriment to his plan, depending on what Tim knew, didn't know, or thought he knew. Naturally, Trevor was well aware of who it was he stood in front of. He would never go so far as to say he was a fan of Tim's work, but Trevor did have to admire the kid's heart and determination. Anyone willing to counter Dirty Laundry was okay in Trevor's book.

"Just calm down." Trevor said, tossing the baggy back into the open gym bag. "No one thinks this is yours." He could only stifle the chuckle as it tried to escape. The idea of the straight laced Tim dealing or even working with drugs was laughable. But that Trevor sensed the other boy wasn't fully prepared to simply turn the bag over to the Academy administration provided a faint glimmer of hope. Of course, he was also cognizant of the fact that the longer this conversation went on even Tim would deduce who the bag belonged to and they both would be left open to being discovered by someone with stricter morals.

"Here..." Trevor went ahead and knelt beside the bag to zip it up. The last he wanted was some wandering teacher or student to catch sight of them talking over a gym bag full of packaged, ready to sell weed. "Alright." Satisfied, Trevor stood back up and faced the other boy. "So tell me, Tim." Trevor said, looking to Tim curiously. "You don't seem fully committed to turning this in. What would you, of all people, be thinking of doing with it?"

[Tim Tawfeek]

Calm down, easier said than done. Tim was tempted to mention as much to Trevor, but he kept his mouth shut for the time being, instead keeping his attention on Trevor. He racked his brain, trying to remember what he knew about the other boy. Lots, and not a whole lot of it fell into the "good" category. "Amoral" would be the most strictly accurate, and Tim was willing to bet that if he mentioned as much to Trevor, the other guy would definitely agree with it.

The guy zipped the bag, Tim still watching him. Then came the next bit, the bit about turning it in. "hey, I just said I was totally going to do exactly that," insisted Tim, pointing at the bag. "Because it's, uh, what you should do with the stuff," Tim nodded, but he still wasn't even convincing himself. He looked at the bag, then at Trevor, then pointed at the bag, then at Trevor. "You're selling this stuff, aren't you? this is, like, a deal or--" Tim's eyes widened and he gaped for a few seconds.

Then he stomped his foot, dancing about and turning away from Trevor, mumbling a bit while he ran his hand over his head, looking at Trevor a few times. he seemed to gather himself, taking a few deep breaths before turning, hoping that he wasn't about to get his ass capped or something.

[Trevor Paige]

For Trevor getting his hands on the contents of the gym bag wasn't so much a want or desire, but closer to a need. He never liked selling or dealing with the stuff. It was way to difficult and high risk to move and the muddy legalities between federal and state laws were just a mess he didn't want to deal with. But there were some men on the West Coast who would be wanting payment for their delivery and Trevor would rather not have the expense come out of pocket.

"No reason to jump to conclusions." Trevor said, lifting a hand in a gesture that encouraged Tim to slow down his thought process. "But, yes." Trevor nodded, glancing down to the gym bag in question. Tim was a hell of a smart guy. Trevor wouldn't insult him by trying to dance around the subject. "This is mine and I will, much to my chagrin, be selling it." There was no question on the matter. Trevor never liked to use intimidation when dealing with people and this situation was no exception. His assertion that he would be taking the bag was stated more as a fact as opposed to a threat.

Trevor's eyes shifted up from the bag to Tim. The older boy was smart, Trevor knew. He was also aware that through hard work and determination, Tim had achieved a remarkable amount of awareness of the goings on around campus. There was an agreement to be made. A partnership, if you will, that could be mutually beneficial. "Tell you what." Trevor said as he knelt to grasp the gym bag handles. One way or the other, the bag was coming with him anyway. "I'm going to drop this off at my dorm then why don't you walk with me, talk with me." Trevor nodded faintly. "I've got a proposition I think you'll find interesting."

[Tim Tawfeek]

Jump to conclusions? "Am I missing something here? is there, like, some other reason you'd totally be super interested in a bag filled with ---" but Trevor already confirmed, which didn't exactly do a lot to soothing Tim's nerves. If anything, it made him want to start jumping around more. He almost wished that he was Dirty Laundry instead of the clean version. DL would just love something like this. Should he report it? It felt right, like that was something he should be doing. He noticed Trevor looking at him though, and he paused, trying to remember what it was that Trevor actually did. Not, like, for a job, but as a mutant.

Tell him what? Drop that off, walk with him, "You know I can't, like--" began Tim, pointing. He paused though. Would it really hurt anyone? It was just, well, it looked like pot. Pot was pretty harmless overall; they were even working at legalizing it in states close to Montana and everything. Plus, Trevor was just moving the stuff. And it sounded like he had a... proposition. Tim hesitated, looking.

"What kind of proposition? I'd make a pretty lousy, like, hooker or something..." he said, trailing off. What could Trevor Paige want from him? He wasn't strong, or fast, or, like, super smart. Regular smart, and nerdy, yeah, sure, and he knew a guy that could build stuff, but super smart? Not really...

[Trevor Paige]

"Of course you can." Trevor waved off Tim's apprehension about letting him take the bag. He stood straight, pulling the gym bag with him and turned. "C'mon." He said, gesturing for Tim to follow. "Walk with me." He repeated as he started to head for the nearest exit of the gym. He didn't want to spend another minute so close to the scene of the 'crime'.

"You're kidding, right?" Trevor remarked as he cast a smirk toward Tim. "What makes you think I'd have anything to do with prostitution?"  Just the legalities of such an endeavor made it far too much work for far too little potential profit.  That sort of business practice just wasn't economically feasible in a school setting.  Maybe if they were close to Las Vegas or a similar city, sure, but Kalispell, Montana?  Nah.  He'd stick to fake ID's, alcohol, and the occasional changed class grade.

"Look, I'm going to be honest here."  For once Trevor was telling the truth.  Maybe.  "You don't have anything to worry about.  I don't do this often."  He lifted the bag slightly, indicating the street drug inside.  "But circumstances change, so, here I am."  His eyes shifted slightly to Tim in an attempt to read the boy.  "But you're the interesting one here.  I've seen your stuff.  It's interesting.  I have to ask, though, what's with the crusade against that gossip blog?"  This was simply a curiosity of Trevor's.  It's not as though he would be heartbroken if the source of Dirty Laundry was discovered and the blog shut down, especially after he found himself as the subject of one of the posts.

[Tim Tawfeek]

Walk with him. Yeah, that didn't sound creepy at all, not at all like some kinda gangster movie. Tim was seriously considering digging his cell phone out of his pocket. He could start dialing security or something, leave it just set so he had to enter, like, a number or something. Trevor spoke again, mentioning that he wasn't, despite all appearances to the contrary, into prostitution. Tim laughed nervously at that. Of course he wasn't, too many variables, probably.

Then came the leveling, which Tim didn't believe was truthful or leveling at all, but he was certainly willing to nod along and pretend like he believed that. Whatever ended with him not having a cap in his ass was fine as far as Tim was concerned. don't do this often, oh, right the drugs. Tim nodded, "Hey, whatever, I'm not gonna narc on you," and yes, he did realize how very contradictory that was to his whole crusading thing. But crusading behind a camera was way different than doing it out here, where people could shoot you with real bullets.

The... "You mean Dirty Laundry? I just---well, I don't like that it's the only thing out there giving information on students and stuff. It just doesn't seem right that somebody's not, like, saying what's good about the school and championing all the stuff," Tim ended with a shrug. He hadn't thought that anyone "important" even realized that Clean Laundry existed... maybe he had a bigger audience than he thought?

[Trevor Paige]

Trevor pushed open one of the large double doors that led out of the gymnasium, the dubious gym bag in tow. Underneath his calm exterior Trevor was unsettled and displeased. Tim was too nervous, too paranoid. Like he thought this was more than it was. Like Trevor himself was more than he was. "Tim."  He said smirking as his head shook.  "Seriously, man, relax."  He cast a glance to the slightly older boy.  "You're acting like I'm gonna lead to an empty house and shoot you."  If anything, Trevor actually found it all bit amusing.  "This isn't the Godfather or an episode of the Sopranos."  His head shook and he waved a hand dismissively as he moved down the hallway leading to the building's exit.  "This is largely irrelevant."

It was already a given, in Trevor's mind, that Tim wasn't going to protest his taking of the gym bag. Because of this, the baggies contained within became unimportant.  Trevor's new focus was the boy who'd originally found the bag.  "I can respect that."  He said honestly.  That Tim had taken up a crusade against Dirty Laundry said a lot about him.  Mostly that he apparently had too much time on his hands.  "Like you're standing up for the little guys?"  Another smirk was sent Tim's way, this time as Trevor pushed through the second set of doors that finally led out into the open, Montana air.

"Although I do have one problem."  Trevor stopped just outside the door and turned a bit to look at Tim squarely.  Soberly he regarded the other boy.  Trevor had kept up on all the blogs and rumors swirling around the Academy.  It was his business to keep abreast of the goings on in every facet of the campus.  "If you plan on keeping with your mission statement think twice about accusing someone you know nothing about of womanizing."  Of course he was referring to himself and the prom related vlog Tim had recorded implying he'd, in Tim's own words, 'been seen with half the girls in Kalispell'.  Without waiting for a reply, Trevor turned and started down the steps.  His free hand slipped into his pocket as he continued his course.  "Keep that in mind and we'll do great things together, Tim.  Of that you can be certain."

[Tim Tawfeek]

Relax, yeah, that's just what they said before---before they did exactly what Trevor predicted that they'd do. Weird. Tim just laughed at that, a nervous, tittering kind of laugh that sounded far, far too strained. He swallowed. Largely irrelevant, yeah, totally, like this wasn't going to lead to something. Tim could feel that other shoe hovering over; years of being a nerd had taught him to trust his instincts on something like that. What he really ought to do is make a break for it, take a dash and try to escape while everything still worked.

Kept going though, and Trevor kept talking. "Uh, yeah, something like that," admitted Tim, looking around, still wondering where this was going. Their journey took them out of the school, or at least out into the air. At least that meant more places to run. Man, Tim wished that he had an ability that was actually cool or useful or something. Then he'd just dart off, a trail of dust never to be seen again.

One problem: there was that shoe. Trevor had stopped and looked at Tim. Tim met the gaze. This, this he was used to. People just loved to confront him about something he said on his blog. Funny how nobody seemed willing to congratulate him on something, tell him that he'd done awesome or made a difference. No, instead, they liked to say that he was wrong or that he shouldn't be saying something about somebody. sometimes you had to hurt people to do good, at least, that's what Tim kept telling himself.

Womanizing? What was... was this about the prom thing? Tim was tempted to point out that he'd obviously had an agenda there: get someone alongside Lux who wouldn't actually do anything with her. "oh, so that wasn't you at the dating tables talking to people," he said, ticking on his finger, "or seen with a demon girl, or Charlie," more fingers, "and of course there's the whole thing with Erika Bellefonte that's popped up lately..." he wiggled his fingers, then realized that he'd just mouthed off to someone who could, again, put his cap in his ass. "Must just be some other guy then. You know how it is; get these things confused and all..."

[Trevor Paige]

"See, now you're getting defensive." Trevor pointed out as he continued down the steps and into the courtyard. "That's not a good trait to have." He held up a finger. "One, her name's Chloe, and she's a sweet girl." Another finger came up. "Two, I crashed the speed dating for kicks. If I had gone home with one of those women, you'd know about it." A third digit shot up toward the sky. "Third, I have female friends. Since when does that make me a bad guy?"

Two of the three fingers went down, the last remained extended and then was pointed toward Tim. "But enough about that. You're the guy I want to talk to." That wasn't wholly untrue. Trevor had circled Tim's name already as a person of interest. "So, tell me, all the equipment you use to make your vlog and set up cameras in the teacher's lounge, is that stuff expensive?" He cast a curious glance to the other boy. Now they were getting into the meat of the conversation Trevor really wanted to have. The Clean Laundry thing was merely something he wished to clear up.

[Tim Tawfeek]

Of course he was getting defensive; Trevor had gotten all aggressive. Tim didn't see what pointing out the demon girl's name had to do with anything. He didn't know her by anything except "demon girl" so he'd used that. Had nothing to do with much of anything besides who she associated with, really. As for the other stuff, that just sort of proved Tim's point, really. Tim opened his mouth to say as much, but Trevor was pointing at him, attempting to move along.

Still wanted to talk to him? About what? Tim opened his mouth to ask precisely that, but Trevor had already moved along. The equipment? He seriously wondered about that? Tim shrugged. "Sort of. I mostly just have a buddy of mine put the major stuff together. People don't really care what you do with their junk and all," he licked his lips for a moment. "Why would you care about that? You're rich or something, aren't you? Couldn't you just, like, buy whatever the hell you needed?"

[Trevor Paige]

It wasn't a surprise that Tim still didn't quite get it. After all, Trevor had been vague up to this point and he couldn't expect the other boy to understand the big picture as he saw it. Few kids their age did, in fact. Even the 'great' Ellen Banks would sell her soul to remain at the top of the Bellefonte Academy social ladder under the false pretense anything like that mattered. But Trevor didn't blame Tim. He was still young, after all. High school still was important to the boy.

"No, no." Trevor shook his head and made sort of a 'pff' sound with his lips. "What would I do with a bunch of cameras? C'mon. I'm talking about for you." He continued walking, glancing to Tim now and again to gauge the boy's reaction. "What could you do if you got your hands on some real equipment and not the pieced together stuff you've got now?" Bit by bit Trevor was revealing his true intent. He didn't wish to shut down or curb what Tim was doing, on the contrary, he wanted Tim to grow. He wanted Tim to become larger and more influential than DL and, if he played his cards right, Trevor would ensure that happened... for a small price, of course.

[Tim Tawfeek]

For... him? This really wasn't clicking in Tim's brain, and he couldn't help like he was getting mixed signals or crossed wires or some other kind of metaphor involving reading something here. Talking about him. What could he do with real equipment...



"Uh, this stuff is made by one of those--" began Tim, feeling like he should defend the stuff he had. He paused though, realizing where most of those parts had come from. Sure, what Tim had was definitely better than standard. That happened when you had a mutant with a knack for building stuff, well, building stuff for you. But what if he got real stuff...



"Yeah, so, what, you want me to get some real equipment and produce more material? There's also time involved and information and crap," said Tim, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I can't just magically get information or put it together. And you can't tell me you're just thinking all this out of the goodness of your heart?"



Because Tim would totally call bullcrap on that one. No way was Trevor just thinking of contributing to the student body. There was an angle here, an Tim was missing it, a fact that bothered him far more than he cared to admit.