Marshal Member
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- Old Guild Username: Marshal
- Joined: 11 yrs ago
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- Marshal 11 yrs ago
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:| I had a different post typed out, but my computer spazzed and I got a bit too irritated to try re-typing the other. Enjoy a shoe-tying lesson.
Gin grumbled silently to himself as he sat on the ground with his back against the wall, fiddling with his boot-laces once again. A few people had passed by and eventually he had come to a dead stop instead of continuing onwards to the training grounds. Maybe he shouldn't have stopped and sat down, but the thought of trying to deal with the laces of his boots was more appealing than being over there. Though it was not like he couldn't use a bit more practice before the night, but, shoes were more important. At least that is what someone had told him. But he couldn't quite force himself to like them, even if they protected his feet from sharp objects on the ground and his toes if he was kicking things... It was all lies and confusion though.
If you tied them too tightly your feet went numb, if you tied them too loosely they slipped off of your feet while walking, if you didn't tie them at all you flung them across the room by simply getting out of your chair. He hated shoes, almost as much as he hated cloths. They were still constricting at times, even if they were loose. They smelled if you didn't wash them and blood stained them if the cloth wasn't dark enough... it was all so complicated, Gin felt as his head rolled back against the wall with a sudden groan of irritation.
Eventually he pulled his right shoe off and had it sitting on his left knee with the entire length of its lace on his right knee. Probably best to try to re-lace this boot before tonight anyhow, it was always the one that fell off while he was running. And seeing as he would be working with others for a while, and they would be punished if he messed up, he should at least take a bit of precaution for his common occurrences. Quickly grabbing the lace and the boot he set to work.
In one hole, out the other. Again. And again. And again.
It took him only a few minutes, but all he had successfully managed to do was tie four knots in four of the eight holes.
If you tied them too tightly your feet went numb, if you tied them too loosely they slipped off of your feet while walking, if you didn't tie them at all you flung them across the room by simply getting out of your chair. He hated shoes, almost as much as he hated cloths. They were still constricting at times, even if they were loose. They smelled if you didn't wash them and blood stained them if the cloth wasn't dark enough... it was all so complicated, Gin felt as his head rolled back against the wall with a sudden groan of irritation.
Eventually he pulled his right shoe off and had it sitting on his left knee with the entire length of its lace on his right knee. Probably best to try to re-lace this boot before tonight anyhow, it was always the one that fell off while he was running. And seeing as he would be working with others for a while, and they would be punished if he messed up, he should at least take a bit of precaution for his common occurrences. Quickly grabbing the lace and the boot he set to work.
In one hole, out the other. Again. And again. And again.
It took him only a few minutes, but all he had successfully managed to do was tie four knots in four of the eight holes.
o.o!
I am now... Scarf-boy!
Gin sat cross-legged in his chair, lightly tapping his thumbs on his knees. His scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck with one loop around part of his head, a faint smile to be found on his face as he listened rather intently to Death. Despite being a guy of countless questions, Gin was a very diligent listener, especially when it pertained to work. Not that he really considered this work, it was more of a lifestyle choice, at least he thought so. Slowly he stopped tapping his thumbs on his knees, reaching for the laces of his boots. They went untied, as Gin had yet to learn how to correctly tie them and he didn't want to just keep tying them into knots or shoving them into his socks. Lazily he fiddles with the bits of lace, silent as ever. He diverted his emerald green gaze to the laces, suddenly finding it a bit tiring to keep looking up like that.
Though his attention was drawn once again as Death began to mention what they would find in the homes and in the warehouses. Gin didn't really need to look at the pictures to know, but he felt oddly compelled to look regardless. There was something so very different about seeing pictures of something and living it first hand, and Gin had lived through such things, unknown to those here. He had survived the abuse, the poison, the drugs, all of it. And seeing the pictures only brought questions to his mind. Were these people already dead? Would they be dead soon? Would they be able to survive life outside of their cages? Not just the physical ones, but the mental ones...? Gin lightly shakes his head, though his eyes remain glued on the screen, he couldn't force himself to look away, not that it really would have mattered now anyway. He'd probably be thinking about the images until something else more pressing appeared.
Having successfully ruined his own good mood, Gin carefully reaches his hands up and tugs on his ugly green and yellow scarf, pulling the overly large cloth a bit tighter around his neck. It was only a minor comfort though, he reminded himself as he unconsciously lifts a hand to the left side of his head. He begins to slowly trail a finger over what remained of his left ear, one of the last wounds that had been inflicted upon him before his escape. With the poison that had been in his system at the time, he hadn't even felt it over the agonizing feeling of his internal organs being aflame or the pounding headache that threatened to shatter his skull from the inside. Though he had noticed a time after he woke up, it wasn't all that big of a deal... it had been his first time looking into a mirror too!
Eventually names appeared on the screen. Teams. Gin wasted not even a moment to find his name, quickly scanning the names around his. Amaya and Ntombi. Two women he had seen about, but not really ever spoken with. Actually, he hadn't really 'spoken' with anyone here. More of, he just hung around and occasionally asked questions when they popped into his head, especially about things he didn't really understand or know how to do. Amaya, if he recalled correctly, spent a great deal of her time training. He had seen her a couple of times, but kept his distance, like he did with everyone. Then there was Ntombi, who... he knew nothing about. He had been here a while and he knew at least a tiny bit about everyone, sort of, but he really didn't know anything about her.
A frown suddenly forms onto Gin's face as Death would continue speaking. Slowly he lowers his hand and grabs his scarf once again, pulling it more up over his head and around his mouth before closing his eyes. So if any of them messed up, the others would suffer as well. Great... just great. As the conversation comes to a close, Gin slowly pries his eyes ope once again and pushes himself out of his chair. He looks around and quickly catches sight of Amaya leaving. He groans faintly and slowly starts to make his way after her, once again fiddling with his overly large scarf while he walks, mulling over possible outcomes of this 'test'.
Though his attention was drawn once again as Death began to mention what they would find in the homes and in the warehouses. Gin didn't really need to look at the pictures to know, but he felt oddly compelled to look regardless. There was something so very different about seeing pictures of something and living it first hand, and Gin had lived through such things, unknown to those here. He had survived the abuse, the poison, the drugs, all of it. And seeing the pictures only brought questions to his mind. Were these people already dead? Would they be dead soon? Would they be able to survive life outside of their cages? Not just the physical ones, but the mental ones...? Gin lightly shakes his head, though his eyes remain glued on the screen, he couldn't force himself to look away, not that it really would have mattered now anyway. He'd probably be thinking about the images until something else more pressing appeared.
Having successfully ruined his own good mood, Gin carefully reaches his hands up and tugs on his ugly green and yellow scarf, pulling the overly large cloth a bit tighter around his neck. It was only a minor comfort though, he reminded himself as he unconsciously lifts a hand to the left side of his head. He begins to slowly trail a finger over what remained of his left ear, one of the last wounds that had been inflicted upon him before his escape. With the poison that had been in his system at the time, he hadn't even felt it over the agonizing feeling of his internal organs being aflame or the pounding headache that threatened to shatter his skull from the inside. Though he had noticed a time after he woke up, it wasn't all that big of a deal... it had been his first time looking into a mirror too!
Eventually names appeared on the screen. Teams. Gin wasted not even a moment to find his name, quickly scanning the names around his. Amaya and Ntombi. Two women he had seen about, but not really ever spoken with. Actually, he hadn't really 'spoken' with anyone here. More of, he just hung around and occasionally asked questions when they popped into his head, especially about things he didn't really understand or know how to do. Amaya, if he recalled correctly, spent a great deal of her time training. He had seen her a couple of times, but kept his distance, like he did with everyone. Then there was Ntombi, who... he knew nothing about. He had been here a while and he knew at least a tiny bit about everyone, sort of, but he really didn't know anything about her.
A frown suddenly forms onto Gin's face as Death would continue speaking. Slowly he lowers his hand and grabs his scarf once again, pulling it more up over his head and around his mouth before closing his eyes. So if any of them messed up, the others would suffer as well. Great... just great. As the conversation comes to a close, Gin slowly pries his eyes ope once again and pushes himself out of his chair. He looks around and quickly catches sight of Amaya leaving. He groans faintly and slowly starts to make his way after her, once again fiddling with his overly large scarf while he walks, mulling over possible outcomes of this 'test'.
I know I said I was posting, but instead I fell sleep. Keyboards are great pillows.
Anywho... :D Sketcher, that is amazing!
Anywho... :D Sketcher, that is amazing!
Nearly done with my post. *Rubs eyes*
I think you need to upload it onto a site like photobucket or something and then link it.
ShadowRaeper said
MWHUAHAHAHAHAHAHA >=DBut be reminded: This will just be a test ;) So eventually you will be able to double team murder the shit out of the enemy xDAre swear words even allowed on this forum ? :O Dunno even if it is a swear word :O
*Gasp* You said a bad word.
We may get to see it yet. *Rubs chin*
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