She recognized the girl. Sakura. Kushuda Sakura. It's hard not to notice her. In fact, she's probably one of the most outstanding people in the school. Not only is she tall beyond the norm, but, perhaps more importantly, her distinct red hair, drew attention-perhaps more so then she realized. Mizuki noticed that the girl is pretty air headed, and often unaware of her surroundings. Like she's living in a dream or something. This trait of hers, Aizawa Mizuki didn't like in particular. She was never fond of people who don't care about their self-image (and, in the past, did not hesitate to demonstrate to them exactly how important it is to be mindful of one's own surroundings) and would absolutely love to stage one such demonstration right now, if she had her friends and wasn't half paralyzed, herself.
But unfortunately, she was, and nothing could have been done about it. While thinking of what next to say, without embarrassing herself while doing so, a long-haired boy who seemed vaguely familiar came to Sakura's rescue, making the situation that much more awkward. She's the offender, why is she getting helped?, yet voicing this sort of complaint would be pretty much useless. As much as she despised the girl, there was literally no way she could retaliate. She'll be forced to move on and pretend nothing happened. The red hair's oh-so-sincere apologies didn't make it easier to tell her anything bad, either. In the end, nothing did happen, indeed. The only thing hurt was, ultimately, her pride. She decided to drop it, and leave the scene before she says or does something she'd regret. Even though it's been quite a while since the accident, sometimes, she still tends to forget that she's disabled now and, therefore, in no position to look down or talk back to normal, healthy people (like these two appeared to be). Or rather, normal disabled people aren't, for Mizuki often considered herself naturally above the rest, even if slightly.
Shifting her attention from Sakura, she noticed that the entire incident had one additional victim. A taller girl with distinct, black hair(that she suspected were either fake, dyed, stolen, or all these things combined. There is absolutely no way these hair were real, no doubt about that. For one, Mizuki's own hair, which she used to care for dearly, could never reach such a brilliant hue, and therefore, no other hair were permitted, either). The girl wasn't satisfied with the entire incident either, and they could have easily teamed up on apologetic Sakura together, if not for the intervention of that cursed long haired boy, to whom she now directed her attention.
She was a little surprised when he was addressed with the same name as hers, though quickly regained her composure, realizing it's a surname in his case. Coincidences happen. That being noted, he looked pretty out of it himself. She wondered what his disability was. While Mizuki was pretty certain that Sakura had a hopeless case of gigantism, the boy looked perfectly healthy. Even handsome, except that she wasn't into guys with excessively long hair and messy clothes. She hated people with messy clothes, how hard is it to take care of one's attire anyway(never mind that she too didn't pay much attention to her exterior, lately)? Frowning on him for a little bit longer then a moment, she turned to the red haired girl and decided it's time to make a step back. Without looking her in the eye, she turned away with a clear "Never mind", indicating she's not very much interested in further conversation. Leave the messy freaks to their messy ways. She'll find a way to have revenge on some other occasion, no doubt.
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ERode said
Two characters with the same name? wat
Haha mine and yours
Except in one case it's name and in other case it's surname
Comedic potential, I see here!
I just noticed there are two characters with the same name, crazy!
TheNewGirl said
Not exactly weird. I told you why.
Yeah, but I didn't want to fingerpoint cause I don't like drama. Not my place to do that, either.
Alarieth said
Uhm, so the collision in total involved three people?
Umm, I pm'd theNewGirl and she said she lost interest due to not liking some characters or something and she's dropping.
Weird.
ERode said
Post pretty much done. Think I'll just have Jay alternate between rebel outlaw and wandering gentle knight.And done. Jay uses engrish words sometimes, so if it's in katakana, just assume that he's going engrish-modu.
He's like...he's like...A Black Rock Shooter!
Tell me, are his epic dreams going to be a representation of "reality"? Or is the invisible wall between the world of magic and science not yet thin enough for it to happen?
TheNewGirl-oh..sorry, I was writing my post when you posted. What do, what do...
I know! Let's make it 3-way collision! And blame it all on the red-hair!
I know! Let's make it 3-way collision! And blame it all on the red-hair!
MUG said
I'll put up my entry post in a few minutes. Date I had tonight just weaseled out of it and is going to a St. Patricks festival. HER LOSS!..........i guess. *shrug*
Be vigilant!
I bet they're cheating on you with St. Patrick!
The classes were boring today. As they have been yesterday, and the day before. Mizuki never liked learning, but always did out of obligation and to keep her perfect image in the eyes of teachers and those students, who didn't know her that well. Back when these things mattered. Back when she still had a normal life, and a normal, functional body, she used to be a top of the class, honor student, an example many looked up to. However, the accident changed everything. She naively believed that she can make a new life at Yamaku, but that faith has been shattered almost instantly on the arrival. This place is sick, and so are the students ,and so is the omni present atmosphere. This is not a school, this is a hospital. Why should she try to be the best? There is not point if being a queen of retards, the best of the worst!
It's been several weeks already, and she didn't try paying attention even once. During the classes, she usually sat attentively, looked straight in teacher's direction and doodled random geometrical figures in her notebook, pretending to make notes. Geometrical figures was all she could draw, as her dominant, right hand was pretty much useless and she couldn't draw well with the left one yet. Not that she ever will-art was never her forte. Rather, the pointless, black-on-white geometrical figures, question marks and straight lines were an expression of boredom, irritation and discomfort, that accompanied her thorough her entire stay in Yamaku so far. She was sited right next to the window, but she never looked up. In fact, she wished she was sited away from it. The windows were way too big, the rooms were way to bright, and there, beyond the window, was an omnipresent, green scenery that made her feel sick, and homesick. She missed Tokyo. She missed the high sky-scrappers, and the crowds of people, and the fashion, and Shibuya. But of course, the life of Tokyo's famous youth district was beyond her reach, now that her body was the way it is. It used to be depressing back in the hospital, being so close to all these things, yet so far. Mizuki thought that staying away from the city will be less painful then not, but she was wrong, and she wanted to go back, and be free from this place, or this sick existence. Forvever.
Of course, such wishes could never be granted. The only freedom she was granted, was the freedom from this class, announced by the loud ringing of the bell, familiar tune snapping her back to reality. Mizuki did that often, lately-thinking about her miserable condition, wishing to be somewhere else, hating on her surroundings. For other people, it looked like she was "day dreaming", but to her, it was more akin to "day-nightmaring", if she was to call it anything at all. Supporting herself on the crutch, she slowly made her way out of class. Slowly. Not that she had a choice, going fast was literally impossible. That was one thing that didn't bother her in the slightest, as she was never a big fan of running and physical exercise, unpleasnatries that her accident had liberated her from, which was probably the only good thing about the entire situation.
Tap, tap, tap. Her goal was the library. Tap, tap tap. She made her way through the crowds of students, glancing left and right, observing every one of them individually and all at once. She delighted herself in spotting those who looked to be in a worse condition then herself-like that girl on the wheelchair who looked like she's two legs in grave already, pun intended. No matter how badly Mizuki felt about herself, at least she was alive and not dying-which can't be said about some of the other students, much to her amusement. However, those who looked well and didn't seem to miss anything in their body were unforgivable, and Yamaku had a fair share of such students, too. Why were they even here? They probably had some internal issues, and most of them, she bet, could lead normal life(unlike herself, for example). She'd much rather they weren't hear. She'd much rather have them disappear and be left with the ones with prosthetic limbs, crutches and wheelchairs, like she originally imagined it to be. The existence of these other..healthy..students was a shadow on her self-confidence.
Like for example, that giant red haired girl walking straight into her...eh?
There was a frontal collision, and one that couldn't possibly end well for her. Not only was her opponent at advantage(much, much taller, bigger, faster etc.), but more importantly, Mizuki was walking with a crutch, and it was hard to support herself as she was. Even a small push would be enough to bring her down-at this was much, much stronger then a small push. It felt more like a close encounter with a tsunami. Down, down she went, spinning round and round in the air, before landing face-down with a loud *thump* mixed with a louder *splash* and then loud *thump* again as her nemesis herself followed the fate of her victim shortly afterwards. Mizuki considered herself lucky that her crutch and right arm were bound together with several, thick, medical straps, that they often used in hospitals, cars, and mental facilities. Otherwise, she'd doubtlessly lose hold of it, and crawling on the ground, looking for a crutch or(even worse), asking someone to help her with that would be too much for her sense of pride and general self-respect to handle.
Supporting herself with the crutch and using her healthy hand to manually pull her paralyzed leg up, she slowly rose up, disregarding the irritating sounds the red-haired giant made behind her. After getting up, and checking that her clothes are in order(she was wearing one of the longer skirts, fortunately..dread to think what could have been exposed to the public eye should she had chosen to wear the shorter version), Mizuki finally turned around, to give a piece of her mind to the source of her misfortunes.
"Die"-was the only thing she had to say to that disorderly delinquent. Her voice cold, a mixture of hatred and disgust. From her experience, tall girls were more often then not, airheads and blissfully unaware of what a spectacle they sometimes make of themselves with their height and what not-and this one, seemed to be no different, unfortunately. Making apologies like her life depended on it. Duh. If Mizuki was healthy and well, she'd, no doubt about that, give the red hair a piece of her mind. But Mizuki wasn't healthy and well, and thus, she was careful not to lose hold of herself, too much. However, she was no angel(although she definitely used to be one) and her patience had it's limits. How the situation progressed from now on, depended solely on the actions of her villain.
It's been several weeks already, and she didn't try paying attention even once. During the classes, she usually sat attentively, looked straight in teacher's direction and doodled random geometrical figures in her notebook, pretending to make notes. Geometrical figures was all she could draw, as her dominant, right hand was pretty much useless and she couldn't draw well with the left one yet. Not that she ever will-art was never her forte. Rather, the pointless, black-on-white geometrical figures, question marks and straight lines were an expression of boredom, irritation and discomfort, that accompanied her thorough her entire stay in Yamaku so far. She was sited right next to the window, but she never looked up. In fact, she wished she was sited away from it. The windows were way too big, the rooms were way to bright, and there, beyond the window, was an omnipresent, green scenery that made her feel sick, and homesick. She missed Tokyo. She missed the high sky-scrappers, and the crowds of people, and the fashion, and Shibuya. But of course, the life of Tokyo's famous youth district was beyond her reach, now that her body was the way it is. It used to be depressing back in the hospital, being so close to all these things, yet so far. Mizuki thought that staying away from the city will be less painful then not, but she was wrong, and she wanted to go back, and be free from this place, or this sick existence. Forvever.
Of course, such wishes could never be granted. The only freedom she was granted, was the freedom from this class, announced by the loud ringing of the bell, familiar tune snapping her back to reality. Mizuki did that often, lately-thinking about her miserable condition, wishing to be somewhere else, hating on her surroundings. For other people, it looked like she was "day dreaming", but to her, it was more akin to "day-nightmaring", if she was to call it anything at all. Supporting herself on the crutch, she slowly made her way out of class. Slowly. Not that she had a choice, going fast was literally impossible. That was one thing that didn't bother her in the slightest, as she was never a big fan of running and physical exercise, unpleasnatries that her accident had liberated her from, which was probably the only good thing about the entire situation.
Tap, tap, tap. Her goal was the library. Tap, tap tap. She made her way through the crowds of students, glancing left and right, observing every one of them individually and all at once. She delighted herself in spotting those who looked to be in a worse condition then herself-like that girl on the wheelchair who looked like she's two legs in grave already, pun intended. No matter how badly Mizuki felt about herself, at least she was alive and not dying-which can't be said about some of the other students, much to her amusement. However, those who looked well and didn't seem to miss anything in their body were unforgivable, and Yamaku had a fair share of such students, too. Why were they even here? They probably had some internal issues, and most of them, she bet, could lead normal life(unlike herself, for example). She'd much rather they weren't hear. She'd much rather have them disappear and be left with the ones with prosthetic limbs, crutches and wheelchairs, like she originally imagined it to be. The existence of these other..healthy..students was a shadow on her self-confidence.
Like for example, that giant red haired girl walking straight into her...eh?
There was a frontal collision, and one that couldn't possibly end well for her. Not only was her opponent at advantage(much, much taller, bigger, faster etc.), but more importantly, Mizuki was walking with a crutch, and it was hard to support herself as she was. Even a small push would be enough to bring her down-at this was much, much stronger then a small push. It felt more like a close encounter with a tsunami. Down, down she went, spinning round and round in the air, before landing face-down with a loud *thump* mixed with a louder *splash* and then loud *thump* again as her nemesis herself followed the fate of her victim shortly afterwards. Mizuki considered herself lucky that her crutch and right arm were bound together with several, thick, medical straps, that they often used in hospitals, cars, and mental facilities. Otherwise, she'd doubtlessly lose hold of it, and crawling on the ground, looking for a crutch or(even worse), asking someone to help her with that would be too much for her sense of pride and general self-respect to handle.
Supporting herself with the crutch and using her healthy hand to manually pull her paralyzed leg up, she slowly rose up, disregarding the irritating sounds the red-haired giant made behind her. After getting up, and checking that her clothes are in order(she was wearing one of the longer skirts, fortunately..dread to think what could have been exposed to the public eye should she had chosen to wear the shorter version), Mizuki finally turned around, to give a piece of her mind to the source of her misfortunes.
"Die"-was the only thing she had to say to that disorderly delinquent. Her voice cold, a mixture of hatred and disgust. From her experience, tall girls were more often then not, airheads and blissfully unaware of what a spectacle they sometimes make of themselves with their height and what not-and this one, seemed to be no different, unfortunately. Making apologies like her life depended on it. Duh. If Mizuki was healthy and well, she'd, no doubt about that, give the red hair a piece of her mind. But Mizuki wasn't healthy and well, and thus, she was careful not to lose hold of herself, too much. However, she was no angel(although she definitely used to be one) and her patience had it's limits. How the situation progressed from now on, depended solely on the actions of her villain.
MUG said
Oh man did I misread that entry then. I totally missed the inclusion of hemp. Shows how rusty my rping is after being out of the game so long.
How long?
I haven't been roleplaying for over a year, beat that!
Alarieth said
I just let sakura bump into a random person, anyone that wants to interact Ith her can be that person.
Then, is it okay if it's Mizuki? It might just be a good way to introduce her.
But don't expect any friendship.....
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