Welcome to the World IC

[Vietmyke]

Welcome to the World
Featuring:
Vietmyke playing as Tai Kuroi
Hymusia playing as Yoshiko Fukusaku
Celestial playing as Miu Hayashi
Lucama221 playing as Ben Menston
Mercenary Lord playing as Eric Talbour

OOC Link: http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?t=147830

All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players:
they have their exits and their entrances;
and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages.
~ William Shakespeare.

New Eden, a sprawling metropolis of skyscrapers, parks, stadiums, and countless other buildings of all shapes and sizes. New Eden's skyline is most unique, they skyline pierced by countless towards of intricate shapes and unique sizes. The city stretches over the vast landscape and along the coast for as far as the eye can see, its 7 Prefectures spread and stretched out all over the city, save for the Central Prefecture, the Greater Eden area, a city within a city, separated from the rest of New Eden by a massive wall of pure, solid marble, stark white and glowing, forming the Greater Eden area into something of a modern castle, the surrounding sky scrapers of the city dwarfed by the sheer size of the walls built upon a raised land mass. In the direct center of the Greater Eden area is the Infinity Spire, a large tower that soars even above the great marble walls of the Central Prefecture.

Not too far from the Central Prefecture is the main body of the University Prefecture, its young population producing a dull roar as opposed to the constant city noises of the world around them, the majority of the population couped up in massive lecture halls in classrooms across dozens of college and school campuses. The streets of the University Prefecture were generally empty, few cars traveled the roads.

New Eden University, or NEU, is the centerpiece, and crown jewel of the University Prefecture. Its large, expansive campus is clean and modern, and offers its students the greatest of luxuries. Constant and extreme speed internet, all sorts of food places of all types and styles, clubs and societies for all cuts of people, and extensive transportation and mass transit routes. The campus is divided into 5 areas, north, south, east, west, and central. While every type of building is found in each area, the 5 areas, like the cities prefectures also specialize in different fields. The North area has the largest amount of dormitory buildings. The South area has most of the information, science and math based classes, whereas the West area mainly focuses on the Arts, like painting, sculpting, acting, and music. The East area is the primary location of the Univerity's underclassmen, as it is where most of the General Education buildings are located.

__________________________________________________ __

Tai Kuroi, better known by his classmates as TK, sat lazily in his chair, his elbow planted firmly on his desk, his hand supporting his cheek. Not paying attention to the drone of the teacher, TK's slightly glazed eyes stared absentmindedly into a laptop screen, clicking away lazily as he browsed the endless pages of the internet and answered messages from his friends. His PFT laid next to the laptop, playing music into a small earbud that was jammed in TK's ear. His blue PFT buzzed with a text message, and TK took a moment from his internet browsing to answer it before he returned his attention to not paying attention, running his hair through his blond hair every so often.

TK had relatively long blond hair, tied behind him in a short ponytail. His outfit composed of a simple, stylish black fabric jacket over a light grey V-neck and dark jeans with a black leather belt. His blue eyes seemed to be quite bright compared to the dark colors he wore, though their usual amused glow had been replaced by a very dull, glazed over, bored look as the class stretched on. On his left wrist was a plain, silver analog watch, a gift from his older sister. On his left middle finger was a silver ring, a little something he had picked up a while ago and had grown on him. Around his neck was a red lanyard, its end had a tip for him to clip his PFT to. Behind his chair was a single strap backpack, empty, essentially a carrying case for his laptop. Leaning on against his desk was a soft case with a guitar in it, a sort of constant companion of his.

TK brought his attention to the teacher as he heard something about "The World" a cool new game that he had just started getting into recently. His interest was piqued, something exciting was bound to be underfoot. Their teacher had assigned them to groups in order to replicate scenes from The World. It was a group project, due in 2 months. The more creative the replicated scene, and the more intricate it was, the better the grade would be. TK shifted his eyes to his laptop, as a mail icon appeared in the corner. Simultaneously his PFT buzzed with a mail icon. His PFT and laptop were linked, so they would receive eachother's messages.

The mail was from his teacher, it was his group assignment. TK lazily clicked it open and observed the names that appeared. There was an Arthur Saiko, a Martin Hobbes, Yoshiko Fukusaku, and Miu Hayashi. TK was vaguely familiar with a few of them, he wasn't quite sure from when or where though. Maybe at the Music Cafe he worked at? It was a pretty common spot for the University students. TK raised his head off his hand and peered around the lecture hall.

He couldn't spot any of them, or he didn't think he could anyway. The lecture hall was holding close to 400 students, and TK was impressed by the fact that their professor had managed to organize them all into groups. TK quickly gave up attempting to spot any of the students, and returned to his laptop. He typed out a quick message and sent it to the other students in his group.

Lets meet outside the lecture hall after class.

~TK

His message sent, he returned his cheek to its place on his hand and returned to his browsing.

[Hymusia]

In the West area of the University prefecture there was a beautiful but sombre sound ringing through the hallways. It was rare for Yoshiko to captivate anyone for very long but when she played; unknown to her, people stopped in the hallways to listen for a spell before they moved onto their classes. Yoshiko was old fashioned and the music they heard was likely Older than most of the teachers here, but it was beautiful to her, the way composers used to write captivated her imagination and whisked her away to another world.

In the classroom the other students had stopped practising and the teacher had taken to once again playing the composer although she was going about it all wrong and of course Yoshiko didn't see it anyway. Whenever the girl played the violin her eyes were closed so she could be further lost in the music she played. Her jet black hair fell messily around her shoulders, tickling her pale neck. Her fingers lovingly held the wooden instrument -for she preferred it to the glass and acrylic ones people tended to play now- it's strings humming as the horse hair bow ran across them with a delicate grace. Her upper body swayed to the music, wearing a white halter neck shirt that fell close to the body and hugged at her hips, her white long sleeved woollen cardigan hung over the back of her chair, it's cuffs stretched and exaggerated and it's length easily reached her knees. Her legs were covered in a pair of loose black cotton trousers, and her feet covered with plain black slip ons without a heel.

Her chair itself was not the usual class chair, it was black and silver, with a padded seat and back. Two arm rests, one which was mounted with a joystick of sorts, a pair of handles at the back and four wheels, the rear two larger than thinner than the front two. Her useless leg was bound in steel and leather, hidden under the baggy black linen of her trousers, and both were propped up in the stirrups meant for them. Her violin case was black leather, frayed from years of use and love. She had a black shoulder bag hanging from one of the handles of her chair with her laptop inside, a sleek silver model with all of her class notes, texts and information she needed for the lessons she attended.

As her piece came to a fitting finale she left the bow upon the strings and let out a sigh of contentment, a small smile graced her pale pink lips as she opened her eyes. Ice blue in hue but deep and intelligent none the less she saw and heard a round of clapping from the class and just outside its doors. Where only moments before she seemed dignified and confident, a blush crept onto her cheeks and she appeared to grow a little nervous. With a dip of her head for a bow she picked up her violin case as the teacher began to compliment her piece and choose the next performer, putting away the instrument she hung it on the back of the chair. Then, removing the brakes she took the wheels in hand and carefully manoeuvred her way to the back of the classroom, it was far too difficult to use the electronic motor in a class room.

As if a piece of ingenious luck her PFT; sleek, silver and a tear drop shape, vibrated in the way it did when receiving a message and her laptop whistled a quiet tune to let her know she had a new e-mail. Rather than take out the lap top she chose to view it via her Pft, fingertip running across the surface and to her surprise it went off again as she held it. The second message was opened first and her brows furrowed in confusion, she wasn't sure who T.K was and why he wanted her to meet him outside the lecture hall after class was beyond her. Putting it down to a mistype she opened the second mail and saw a message from her tutor. Reading through it as one of the students began a flute piece she found herself almost mortified by the end.

She didn't recognise any of those names, and yet she was now assigned to work with all of them on some kind of project? One she really didn't have much interest in in the first place. She didn't think much of 'The World' and had only played it to alleviate the mind-numbing boredom of a house that always felt empty. Her parents usually busy with their work, she couldn't remember the last family meal they had together, and Yoshiko was sure that when they were not working they were 'relaxing' On Wrld. Still, a project was a project and she couldn't really afford to get bad marks in it. With a small sigh she replied to the message of this T.K person.

Will be there. ~Yoshiko

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gIuotFZnBtk

[Celestial]

Miu leaned back in her seat with her arms crossed. Her eyes had been wondering for the past ten minutes. She looked at her classmates whom were also trying to pass the time quickly. As the lecture continued, she awoke her laptop and jumped on the web and began to mindlessly search. The orchestra hall in the art prefecture, according to its site, had a number of interesting composers coming in. Coincidentally, last week, she had purchased digital files that contained the pieces of one of the composers that was scheduled to come this Saturday. She smiled happily as she went to the upper hand corner and bookmarked the page to read it later. Swiping the interface pad, the screen switched over to her messenger where numerous of messages awaited her viewing.

Her rosewood colored hair shifted as she inched towards her desk. Her mild blue eyes scanned message after message. Today, she was dressed in her usual attire of a black military-style jacket and a dark pink tank top underneath that hugged the counters of her torso. To finish off her matching outfit, she wore shorts that stretched down to the middle of her thighs with a white belt snuggly wrapped around it. On her arms, she wore white arm sleeves that were tied up at the top. On her neck, a silver-chain necklace, that she had received from her mom and dad, hung from her neck that clasped onto a spherical ball with flowing wave-like edges that gave off the illusion of subtle movements. The necklace was one of the few things from her parents that she held onto. It was a silent momento for the relationship they once shared. Her accessories ended with a variety of bracelets that she wore on her left hand.

She continued to answer her messages until her ears perked up about some type of group project. Her eyes refocused on the teacher. The teacher mentioned The World, the most played game in New Eden, and said that the project was to replicate any scene from the game. The more complex and aesthetically beautiful; the better the grade. She didn’t want to admit it to anyone, but she was well acquainted with The World. If she wasn’t preoccupied with any outstanding arrangements, she would log on and explore its seemingly realistic landscape. Miu smiled bemusedly as her PFT buzzed along with her laptop’s message ping. A roster that the teacher created had been sent out to the class of over four hundred. Impressive, I wonder how the teacher managed to pull that one off. Anyways, lets see; lets see. Miu... Miu... Ah! Here we go.

Having found the list, Miu immediately began to screen the names of her partners. She was familiar with only a few names while the others were unknown to her. She sighed in disappointed as she’d hope to be grouped with her friends. Whatever the case, it would be a chance to branch out she figured.

Closing the roster list, she looked around to see if she could see any of the familiars that were in her group. After a few moments, without any luck, she returned back to browsing the web. Just as she was about to click on scenes from The World, her PFT buzzed. She picked up the sapphire-blue almost spherical-like device as she opened up her email. Scanning the message briefly, she returned it.

I’ll be waiting ~Miu

As the message successfully sent, she clipped her PFT to her belt and returned to browsing through the many screen shots that captivated many beautiful images of the The World.

[Sarcor]

Dancing imps on a flaming carcass greeted Martin's eyes as he readjusted his vision to compensate for the mass disbelief in what he was seeing. The little creatures swarmed around the dead horse, wailing and shrieking madly. They taunted the lanky teenager, flashing their piranha-like teeth in manic grins. Their tails whipped back and forth in a serpentine fashion as they gyrated on top of the poor dead beast. The scene was frighteningly hellish, and Martin stumbled back, very afraid of what was happening. He had no idea how he got here or what was going on not a few feet away from him. He was dressed in odd clothing and he smelled of blueberries for some reason. A off-white robe clothed him and he was wearing strange oriental sandals. He stood up as quickly as he could, and backed away from the devilish contortionists and walked directly into a slab of stone. The red, fiery scene behind him loomed as wicked light onto the stone, making his shadow seem infinitely small. The lights started to change now, turning into flashing lights of color patterns, like that of a club when the DJ puts on a particularly popular song. Somewhere in the distance Martin hears yelling, then he realized it' was him, he was the one yelling as he fell into a void.The blackness echoed his cry back at him a thousand-fold that created a fierce throbbing sensation in his head.

A lone figure on a dusty couch jerked violently before it gasped and promptly fell off the glum-looking furniture. Martin raised his head wearily as he noticed that the whole thing was just a dream and now he was laying on a floor that was covered with blueberry scented aftershave. Apparently someone decided to shave at some point last night while they were drunk. It seemed that it didn't work out too well, considering that the dripping bottle on the edge of the table in the middle of the room was almost completely empty. The second noise Martin emitted was a pain filled groan as his hangover hit him full-force. The somewhat awkward positioning of his head in relation to the floor gave him a huge stiff neck, so the disoriented teenager had trouble standing up as he surveyed the room for damage. Reaching to hold his head as it felt like there were fireworks going off inside and it might explode at any moment, the black haired sophomore sat right back down on the couch to try to piece together what happened the night before to warrant such a mess in his room.

"Let's see, I went to Mike's house, and drank some there, then saw Steph, who couldn't shut up about her fifteenth boyfriend...uhhffmph..."

Martin was always a rational human being, but sometimes he didn't have his priorities straight,unless of course, it was about him. So that was why he immediately understood the switch in priority when he felt things start to rise from his stomach to hold his mouth instead of his head as he sprinted towards the bathroom. After an episode of some intense stomach recalibration in the toilet bowl that had the misfortune of occupying that particular bathroom, Martin stumbled out and rubbed his eyes to better take measure of his room. Nothing was broken, so that was always a good sign. It showed that things didn't get too crazy. Martin would literally kill someone if they broke his special custom gaming laptop. His eyes instantly sought it out across the room, his most prized possession safely placed upon a brass mantle, the thing itself shining silver. It was Martin's baby, and apparently the only thing in his room that wasn't covered in beer.

Rummaging through his backpack to check what class he missed, Martin had the feeling he shouldn't drop the class he missed. It was an elective class he took, he didn't really need it for his major, he just needed the credits to get by the minimum for full-time students the University set as a rule. Snapping his head up Martin noted the time on the clock and sighed in exasperation. Perhaps he should visit just one lecture even if he was significantly late already. Just see what the class entailed and all that. Just then his PFT rang, blaring disco remixes of famous Baroque composers as loud as it could. Martin groaned again as the sound penetrated his skull and stabbed his brain like a railroad spike. He kept forgetting to change the tune for his text messages. As he blindly flailed his hands on the table searching for the dark green object, Martin was actually curious as to who was texting him at this hour. Usually his friends waited until it was dark to get him out of his room and start partying. Martin just went with them to distract himself and hide from his stalker ex girlfriend anyway.

Martin saw the text message from a T.K. and was instantly confused. Who was this kid? What did he want? Maybe it was a mistext but Martin now wanted to find out how this guy got his number. Genuinely concerned, he hoped it wasn't like a choreographed mugging or something, or worse, blackmail. This sent the grey eyed teenager in a flurry around his room checking his valuables and searching every nook and cranny for each one that didn't appear in the place it was supposed to be.

After realizing nothing was missing (or it appeared that way), Martin decided to head out and talk to this stranger, see what's up. Slinging a bag over his shoulder to give him that grungy, student look, Martin took his backpack for the sheer purpose of just looking like he had some class to attend. On his way out, the teen wiped his glasses and placed them carefully on his face, tape clearly visible on the bridge of his spectacles. Before taking a left from his building and towards the lecture hall where the class was taking place, Martin lit a cigarette and inhaled briefly, savoring the rich smell of forty thousand chemicals going through his lungs. It was good to be alive.

Halfway there, Martin made the decision to reply.

Gotcha. Be there soon. ~Martin

He didn't want to be stupid after all, he decided to pretend to know what this T.K. was talking about.

[Lemmers]

Arthur was one of six students who sat on the first row, while the other three-hundred-ninety-four filled almost every other row to the brim. It was like a classroom event horizon, as though all of the students seemed to feel like the first row was simply beyond their comprehension. It would have made him chuckle if it didn't piss him off so damn much. Among the other five front-rowers, only two of them sat here regularly, and the others were relegated to this position out of pure laziness. Arthur knew this because he paid attention. Nobody just stared into their laptops flicking the mouse cursor while they were taking notes, you actually had to, you know, use the keys or something. He ground his teeth together and clenched the pencil in his hand, taking out his frustration by sweeping some eraser shavings off his super fancy yellow notepad, where a series of impressively organized notes had been reamed out line after after line.

At the mention of a group project, Arthur's heart began to sink. The very idea of somehow having his grade tied to other people absolutely terrified him. What if they managed to screw this up? What if they were idiots? What if they were thugs? Arthur sank his head into his arms, stopped over his notes, and gave out a silent whimper. He knew there were going to be group projects in this class, but why in on earth did there have to be group projects in this class!?

Arthur immediately snatched up the PFT at his hip and turned it on, watching as the boot up screen loaded. He made a habit of not turning on this accursed machine when he was in class, but he had to bring it with him everywhere went in this place. Dammit, why did they force the students to carry these things around? Even after shopping around for one of these second hand, his PFT had stil cost him a huge chunk of his scholarship allowance. Arthur scanned his PFT desktop, which was still set to the standard background image and contained only the standard programs on it. In this case, he checked his messages, and the two blinking alerts confirmed his suspicions. The first was from his professor, who had somehow managed to assign all of his students into groups.

Probably forced his TA's to do it... Arthur thought.

The second message was from someone named TK, and after checking the names of his fellow group members he found he was right in assuming it was one of them. What kind of lazy prick sends out text messages in class? Arthur didn't respond to either of the messages, and he deleted the one sent to him by TK. He saved the other one, since it had all of the information he needed for the project.

As the lecture drug on, Arthur's mood failed to improve,, and it was all he could do to manage some notes of decent quality. Even then they were sloppily done at best, and he was glad that the majority of the lecture had been on a subject he had already previewed in the textbook. Eventually the lecture came to an end, and Arthur stayed behind in his seat to watch the crowd filing out of the classroom doors in the back of the auditorium. A few people approached the Professor to ask him questions regarding the project, and Arthur moved behind them, waiting for them to eventually clear off.

"Oh, Arzhuur, I didn't szee you zhere, zhat eszay you wrote on zhe dezign of zhe gothic cazhedrals was excellent you know..." said Dr. Klein in his usual thick accent. He waited a few moments and continued when Arthur didn't respond, "Vhas zhere szomezhing you needed?"

Arthur nodded as the older man adjusted his glasses, "Yes... it's about the group project actually, I was wondering if I couldn't... well, do it by myself?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to offend Dr. Klein, whose lectures he was quite fond of. The professor in question only stared at him for a short while before retrieving a laptop from his podium, which he had been using to show his presentation. He slipped the sleek, silver piece of machinery into an antique-looking leather bag and began walking towards the teacher's exit, though he beckoned to Arthur to follow him.

"You know Arzhuur, you are vun of zhee ardest vorkign pupils I ave ever szeen," he started, and Arthur flushed at the compliment, "but ard vork iz not everyzhing you know..."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but his feeble but was cut short by Klein, "I vas very zhorough in szelecting zhe groups for zhis project, yours in particular, vhas very difficult to determine," he continued, "in fact, alzhough I vould come under szcrutiny for szaying szo, your group moszt of all isz zhe vun I am moszt looking forvard to szeeing in zhe actzion."

Arthur frowned, not really understanding what it was his professor was trying to tell him. Did he mean to say that he had considered every single student for every single group when he was separating them for this project? What kind of man was his professor if he could do something like that, and what in the world was he doing teaching Design Basics at NEU?

"I am zhure zhe five of you vill learn szhomshing special during zhese next two months," he said, smiling an almost eerie, sage like smile as he disappered behind his office door, leaving Arthur standing flabbergasted in the hall. Somehow Arthur wasn't even sure where the hell he had ended up, but he felt the overwhelming desire to reply to TK's text message from earlier, and he decided to ignore his concerns regarding Dr. Klein. For now, he had this project, among other things, to be worried about. He only hoped he was going to be able to make a decent grade here.

Don't leave without me. ~Arthur

[Vietmyke]

TK let out a large yawn, eliciting a moment's glare from the people around him who actually were paying attention. He paid them no particular mind. He'd probably find a buddy and cram the week before the class' final exam. No disrespect to Dr. Klein, but TK found his class boring, and his accent difficult and bothersome to understand. The Professor was brilliant, and was likely at the university more to further his own research using the university's immense stock of resources as opposed to teaching students. It seemed like teaching students was more of a side job or a requirement for his research. Nonetheless, Dr. Klein was well liked by the majority of his students, and to be honest, his straightforwardness and understanding, combined with some immense cache of wisdom made him difficult to dislike.

The lecture dragged on, and TK eventually got fed up with browsing the internet. He quickly closed his laptop and quietly slipped it into his bag. With his electronic obstruction now out of the way, TK removed his cheek from his hand, placed his arm flat across the desk, crossed his other arm over the first, buried his face into the nook created by his arms, and promptly fell asleep. It was a dreamless sleep, hardly even a real sleep, as the lecture wouldn't last long enough for him to get anything more than a pair of closed eyes and something almost akin to a nap.

His PFT; shaped something akin to a rounded clip, that could unfold into a pair of headphones should he need, buzzed underneath his arms, stirring him into a sort of wakeful state. The lecture was wrapping up around now, he had set an alarm to remind him. Good thing too, or he might have slept through the lecture and then into the next one. Not that it would have been a first for him. Such experiences were what led to his preemptive measures. He sat up groggily and rubbed at his eyes, watching as people began to file out of the lecture hall. He should probably get a move on too, after all, he was the one who suggested meeting up to begin with. It would be a pretty bad impression if he didn't show up after suggesting the whole meet thing. It wasn't that TK was proactive about his grades at all, but the desire to know who would be effecting his grade, and more importantly, possibly raise it, that interested him to the point of initiating 'first contact'.

TK clipped his PFT to his lanyard and got up out of his chair. He pulled his bag over his back, and his guitar case over that, and began to file outside with the rest of the students. TK quickly realized, that many people may have suggested meeting outside the lecture hall, making it quite possible that TK would find himself confronted by a great mob of students looking for people they didn't know just outside the doors.

TK walked out and was met by a pleasant surprise, apparently many students had thought that, and the majority of the groups that did decide to meet today decided to meet elsewhere, there were only 4 other groups meeting up outside the lecture hall, most of them already with all 5 of their members, the beginnings of discussions of the project starting to be had. It was quite unusual for the Professor to assign a project related to gaming after all. Maybe the members of the group he was part of wouldn't have difficulty meeting up after all. A quick check of his PFT confirmed that all 4 of his new group mates had agreed to meeting up with him.

Outside the Lecture hall was a sort of square, which was surrounded on 3 sides by lecture halls. In the center of this squarish sort of a deal was a fountain. It was a plain, simple fountain, with a broad edge for people to sit on, its basin glittering in the afternoon sun as golden light shined off the water and the many coins that coated the bottom. TK made his way to the fountain, where he would be in plain sight from the lecture hall, pulled off his guitar and bag, and sat down on the brim, the light breeze pulling at his blond hair and open jacket. Afternoons this time of year were always nice, a little on the cool side, especially with the breeze, but the air was crisp, and humidity was at a low. Perfect weather for anything. Even gaming, TK noted as he noticed 1 of the groups just plonk down on the ground with laptops and headsets, no doubt preparing to enter The World.

As he always sat and slept in the very back of the room, TK was one of the first people out of the lecture hall, even with his late wakeup delay. He couldn't if anyone walking out of the lecture hall was in his group, but he himself couldn't be that hard to spot, the only one outside not clustered in a group, so by process of elimination, or by putting two and two together, he figured it would be easy for his group to figure out that he was TK.

His self reasoning fully satisfied, TK took a moment to pull his guitar out of its soft case, and began to strum. He didn't play anything particular, primarily improv, a smooth relaxing melody that seemed to just loop into other different melodies. It was something to pass the time.

[Hymusia]

Music practise ended and people filed out of the classroom, it was always awkward getting around other people on their way out, so she waited behind until the room was empty. Putting away her things she spoke briefly to the teacher about her part in the recital, he was perhaps her favourite, he never had the same pity in his eyes that others did when speaking with her. It certainly was refreshing to not have to deal with fake sympathies and special treatments just because of her leg. He took the handles of her chair as he often did and they spoke as they left the classroom, she carefully avoided the questions of her home life by replying with short indirect answers and asking him about his wife and his hobby; he was a Lepidopterist, when they parted ways at the end of the corridor she switched to the motor and offered a cheery goodbye.

It wasn't ever so far from here to the lecture hall, but once there she quickly found there was no one waiting there, for a moment she considered it all a heinous joke and her lips fell into a deep frowning pout. However, it didn't take long to occur to her that they may not have meant the music lecture hall and perhaps this T.K was in another part of the school entirely. This in mind she produced her PFT and accessed her messages, she cross checked the time of the message to her schedule. There was a lecture she opted out of attending for the sake of her music, it really didn't seem all too important at the time, but as she had suspected it was indeed across campus.

With a sigh she slipped her PFT back into her lap and slipped on her cardigan, from one of the pockets she produced a pair of headphones and slipped them on, one ear piece kept just shy of her ear, plugging these antiques into her PFT she flicked open her music folder, names from histories past and largely forgotten by the masses of this day and age ran in black lines across the white screen. She scrolled through the alphabetical list to the 'M's where she selected Mozart and pressed play. As the music began to play in her ears, drowning out the buzz and hum of people moving around she began to make her way towards the East side of the University.

The chair was awkward and annoying, but it was modern enough to make little noise at all on the ground, and it traversed the changes in terrain pretty well. The music was her shelter, it helped block out that awkward feeling of eyes that roamed to the shorter class person and lingered with that annoying pity that people even these days seemed compelled to feel for anyone who was even slightly different from the social norm.

It took a clear five minutes for her to get from the Music department to the East side of the NEU, and despite her lack of physical exertion she still felt tired at the end of it. People seemed to buzz here and there scattering about the lawn and the fountain, laughing and joking with one another. Once again she switched off the motor, which was no good for high traffic areas, and instead dropped her hands to her pockets, pulling a pair of fingerless gloves from the opposite one to the headphones and slipping them on. Dropping her hands to the wheels she began the tedious task of getting to the lecture hall. Luckily most people had the sense to move out of the way when they saw the chair coming, but it was better to be safer than sorry.

As she came to the fountain she slowed her chair and peered towards the lecture hall through the windows. From what she could see there were very few people standing there who weren't already in groups of five. Glancing about the area she once again had the feeling of being teased, until she spotted a blonde, sitting alone at the fountain and strumming his guitar. Slipping her headphones from her ears to settle instead around her neck she listened in quiet appreciation of his skill, and to her surprise she recognised quite a few of the melodies he strung together. For some reason she didn't quite believe this was one of the people she was supposed to be working with on her project, he seemed to have drifted from the West part of NEU as well, probably to meet his girlfriend or his friends.

With a sigh she put the brakes on her chair, staying as close to the fountain as possible to remain out of the way of the stream of students. Carefully reaching behind her she managed to pry open her bag and pull free from it a music book. A sharp pencil was found and when it as flicked open it was obviously a personal music book. scrawls of notes and musical lines covered the pages until she came to a blank one. While she waited there surely wasn't any harm in her working on her piece for the recital. Before she started though, despite her intentions to the contrary, she sent another message to this T.K person.
I'm here, by the fountain. ~ Yoshiko.

That done the PFT was slid back into her cardigan pocket and she turned her attention once more to the pages waiting for musical inspiration.

[Celestial]

The pointless web surfing was starting to take a toll on Miu’s sanity. There was only so much she could look up, and the list wasn’t getting any longer. Thankfully, the large streams of The World wasn’t lacking. The images were endless ranging from lush forests to major city establishments. And even from there, the cities she saw were quite diverse and bristling with an overwhelming amount of activity. An image did stick in her mind that she figured would be an appropriate choice in the scene they could recreate, for in the background of a small village were outlying mountains that had a twinge of orange hue from the setting sun. It seemed perfect, but it could become relatively complex, for they were still novices in this computer designing business.

As she examined the screen shot, the bright notification ping in the lower left hand corner of her screen bounced vividly. She forgot that she was still in a chat with her friends. She quickly pulled it up. She couldn’t help but laugh as she read the messages. She dipped her head apologetically as the students around her glared in annoyance from her outburst. She re-read the comments about Dr. Klein. They raved about how they couldn’t understand him clearly, whined about the group assignments, and even suggested that they go up and demand they be grouped together. Smiling to herself, Miu responded with a message that caused an uproar among the chat-tees. Before she could read the full scope of the responses, which she kind of knew wasn’t going to be the most friendly of responses, the dismissal alarm sounded as it signaled the end of the lecture.

Immediately, the students stood up as if someone had instructed them to get up together and began to hurriedly fall out of the lecture hall. Miu, who foolishly sat in the middle, stayed in her seat as she waited for the thunderous crowd to leave; she didn’t feel like contending with the overzealous students whom wanted to be free with all due speed. In the meantime, Miu packed up her laptop and notepad as she slid them into her black messenger bag. A separate, padded compartment snuggly hugged the shape of her laptop while another compartment held her books. The bag was a lifesaver for it helped keep her hectic life organized.

She retrieved her PFT from her belt and plugged in a pair of headphones as she played a contemporary classical piece. Its rhythm and beautifully blended instruments mixed in with its tear-jerking violin brought her into a trance as she felt herself move with the time signatures beat. Its transition from staccato to legato was divine. She focused so much on the piece that she didn’t notice a pair of students sneaking up on her.

Quietly, almost cat-like, a girl with raven black hair, tip toed every so slightly until she was right behind Miu. The other girl giggled as she urged the prankster on. “Miu!”

Miu jumped considerably as she felt a pair of hands poke at her sides. She squeaked as she flew up from her chair. She was met with laughter as she flushed with embarrassment. She removed her headphones as she fixed her friends with an angry stare. “What was that for? You scared me half to death!”

The others were in laughing fits until they could finally recover and respond. “Sorry, sorry. It was way too good of an opportunity to pass up! You were just sitting there; we did say your name like a million times, but you wouldn’t answer, soo we took matters into our own hands! But on to more exciting things. Why don’t you want to switch groups? I bet if we bugged the professor enough, he’d give in and make the switch,” said the girl. “Or... perhaps you’re in that group for a few different reasons, hmm?”

Miu’s face turned redder as she endured the unstoppable onslaught. “W-what are you talking about? There’s no other reason! Plus,” Miu said as a mischievous glint flashed in her eyes, “you’re too distracting to be in an academic group with. I wouldn’t get anything done with any of you. Consider this a blessing.”

It was the raven haired girls turn to be embarrassed as she sniffled indignantly. “To far Miu! To far!”

She laughed with the others as their tiny little joking session slowly died down. She looked at the time and cocked her eye brow up. “Don’t cha have another class right now? You might want to hurry before ya miss it.”

Grumbles and gasps of surprise came from Miu’s friends as they hurried to the exit. They waved goodbye and with a few promises of doing something later, they vanished from the room. Nodding in satisfaction that she was alone again, she replaced her headphones as she gathered her belongings and hurried out. She noticed groups of five scattered throughout the classroom, which reminded her of the message from earlier. She activated her PFT and opened up her message box. Outside the classroom... gotcha!

She strode out of the classroom. It seemed that other students had the same idea as TK. They milled about as excited chatter exchanged between each cluster. Looking around, she tried to spot her group, which wasn’t too hard, yet it wasn’t easy at the same time. Her eyes glanced from face to face until they both rested upon a student strumming a guitar on the fountain side. Slowly, intrigue mixed with a hunch, she approached the student. Somehow she felt that the student was the one who messaged her about meeting after the lecture, but she, at the same time, didn’t want to be wrong and call another student TK if he wasn’t. That would be embarrassing.

She pondered the choice and decided to take the plunge. If the boy wasn’t TK, she’d just come up with some excuse. She was good at that. Her parents and forensics class indirectly taught her to be adept at making believable excuses. As she came closer, she removed her headphones altogether. The song, if it could be called that, that the student played was beautiful. Before, she had time to fully enjoy it, she had already appeared right in front of the guitarist. She quickly found her voice before her silence became awkward, “Excuse me, are you by chance TK?”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e6YMf4x16eY

[Sarcor]

Martin was taking his very sweet time striding down the street towards the lecture hall where his class was taking place. He was taking his time so leisurely, people flew to both sides of the sidewalk to let his racing form through. The flurry of a awkwardly moving gait of a teenager Martin's size gave people the alarm he needed to get by quicker. Anyone standing in his path would have been bowled over in a tangle of limbs within a split second. The running boy yelled out random excuses for grazing unfortunate souls who didn't back away enough. "Sorry for that purse!" or "Thanks for moving slightly to the left jerk!" echoed through the crowd filled street. His backpack wheeling madly around his right shoulder, Martin eventually made it to the building he was looking for, but his heart sank when it was too late. He saw students milling outside at dizzying speeds, eager to escape the lecture hall right after the class had ended.

Sighing depressingly, Martin decided to light another cigarette as his first was lost in the chaos on the journey to get here in the first place. Taking out his lighter, Martin noticed disgust on some students' faces as they saw him. Shrugging, the teen raised a white stick toward his mouth and casually, and in deliberation of the others watching him, arrogantly breathed in the fumes the cigarette formed. He then proceeded to walk inside the building, while trying to not care about the looks he was attracting. Martin strode to the fountain and noticed to his dismay that most students had already left. The ones left were focused inward, talking excitedly about some project.

Great, now I need to do a project for this class...how can this get any worse? Martin thought as he sucked in another poison filled breath. In that moment he felt the nicotine kick in and shook his head briskly to clear the feeling of slight euphoria. Cigarettes usually didn't do that to him anymore, but time and time again Martin was reminded why he was still smoking. His rational mind would always tell him to burn his whole stash and never look back. But he ended up taking several a day around with him anyhow. His scruffy look didn't help the whole cigarette-in-mouth thing. After a while Martin just didn't care about his looks. He was fed up about the whole relationship fiasco he had not too long ago that it had become a secondary issue for him.

As he approached the fountain, since it was the only natural thing to congregate to in the area, Martin saw a blond rich type strumming a guitar pretentiously. Snorting briefly, Martin observed some other students in the room before picking out who he wanted to ask about the class first. Then he would deal with this message from T.K.

Martin spied a rather contemplative girl with her leg in a brace and wheelchair. She seemed so occupied with her notes, Martin figured she was a bit uptight and wouldn't be willing to tell him what was going on. The other person besides the pretentious guitar player was another girl with reddish brown hair. She was in the process of asking the blond a question though so she was out as well. Martin sighed. His experiences with talking to new people was relatively...new so he didn't really want to dive right into talking to a stranger. He decided to wait and finish his cigarette (inside) and then attempt to interact with these people. Martin mused that he should find out about this mystery project that he just heard about. It might affect his grade somewhat after all, right? And he could always mooch off the other group members, get himself an A that way. No harm done right?

Martin kept on smoking as he pondered over his options and generally loitered around the fountain, sucking the energy out of his dying cigarette.

[Vietmyke]

“Excuse me, are you by chance TK?”

TK's eye's drifted from his guitar, which promptly stopped playing music. He had almost forgotten that he was waiting for the rest of his group. He looked up at the speaker and saw a girl with reddish-pink hair, whether or not it was natural, TK couldn't really tell. Technology in New Eden made more obscure hair colors a possibility. He blinked and shook his head to bring his attention back to the girl and away from his music. At the same time, his PFT vibrated. He grabbed at the PFT hanging on his chest as he stood up to speak to the girl.

"Ah, yeah I'm TK," he replied, sounding a bit off as he started. Mentally reviewing the names in his mind, he drove on, "You must be Yoshiko, Miu, Martin, or Arthur, well, more likely Yoshiko or Miu, seeing as Martin and Arthur are clearly males." he laughed, the sort of relaxed confidence of a singer's voice filling into the at first awkward gap.

TK remembered about the message on his PFT and looked at it, he opened up the message and examined it. He looked at it curiously for a moment and held the screen out for his new acquaintance to see.

I'm here, by the fountain. ~ Yoshiko.

"Is this you? Yoshiko?" He asked aloud, still holding the device out.

He looked around as he noticed a couple other people show up around them, a particularly scruffy looking man smoking a cigarette, whose great sense of scruffiness was almost odd. He had mussed up clothes, his glasses were slightly crooked, his backpack had nothing worthy of noting, even his cigarette was a little torn looknig. His scruff dictated a fairly normal life of a fairly normal college student, with fairly normal habits, aside from smoking, which still wasn't that abnormal. He had a particularly lazy vibe about him, something TK could appreciate, and didn't seem to care about many things, which could be healthy or unhealthy depending on how it was looked at.

Also near the fountain was a girl in a wheelchair, who was flipping through a book of music paper, TK could tell by the many pages used, black circles with bars attatched to them, connected to other circles with lines, marks that looked like lightningbolts mixed with the number 3, hashtag symbols and very small b's all mixed together in wonderfully complex patterns, that when played correctly, formed music. The girl in the wheelchair had turned to a blank page and pulled out a pencil, a composer? TK was impressed, on this day and age, the laziest of musicians had all sorts of tech that eliminated the need to write music, just play into something, and a paper with the notes comes out. To have the patience to write out every note by hand showed a degree of discipline and competence that many lacked.

He returned his attention to the red-pink haired girl while he picked up his guitar and case. If she was one of his group members, the others had to be here soon as well. The Lecture hall had almost no one left inside, and they had all agreed to meet with him out here. He contemplated sending them another message saying that he was by the fountain, but decided against it.