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- Ontos 11 yrs ago
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Graduating, huzzah!
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9 yrs ago
I'm back.
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My timezone is UTC+8. FYI.
Most Recent Posts
"Make the most of it, huh?"
Shinobu leaned back on his chair, his eyes glancing down narrowly to the edge of his phone. Right after he sent a message to Melissa, his phone thronged with vibration. A simple message and she was calling back. With a cheeky grin, he slid his phone towards Akina.
"Melissa's calling. You should make your case yourself."
Shinobu leaned back on his chair, his eyes glancing down narrowly to the edge of his phone. Right after he sent a message to Melissa, his phone thronged with vibration. A simple message and she was calling back. With a cheeky grin, he slid his phone towards Akina.
"Melissa's calling. You should make your case yourself."
Shinobu twiddled his fingers. The vice president of the school paper club had a crush on him.
"I could talk to Melissa. She may. Or you might want to do so yourself."
He scrutinised Akina, the best he could, from his seated position. She was definitely shorter. A lot cuter, too.
He knew the answer to the next question he was going to ask. But he did so, anyway. "How's the emergence? Do you still think like a guy sometimes? I hear sometimes, that people don't 'emerge' completely."
"I could talk to Melissa. She may. Or you might want to do so yourself."
He scrutinised Akina, the best he could, from his seated position. She was definitely shorter. A lot cuter, too.
He knew the answer to the next question he was going to ask. But he did so, anyway. "How's the emergence? Do you still think like a guy sometimes? I hear sometimes, that people don't 'emerge' completely."
Shinobu plucked out the club register. A thin blue book, it listed down just about every club and their members. He flipped over the pages, his eyes momentarily glancing past the name 'Akito Miyata'.
His eyes turned to his own arm. It was not easy to maintain physical strength close to a guy's with his body, but Shinobu managed. It involved a lot more exercise, and a few protein shakes. But it paid off; Shinobu was often the first to volunteer for any sort of heavy duty work, and no one ever suspected anything off about the contents of Shinobu's pants.
With an inward sigh, Shinobu looked towards Akina. And he realised he had nothing to say, and the nervous expression etched on his face said it better than the silence.
"Uh... I don't know..." muttered Shinobu sheepishly. "It's fortunate that no one else is going to be entering here for some time. The President's sick, and the vice president is probably chewing out someone for leaving gum at the school elevator. Or something."
He giggled. "Maybe you could just decide later. Something not so physical. Or the girl's version of it."
Shinobu winked. It was time to mess with Akina, if just a little. He leaned back on his chair, staring at the ceiling. "What does your girlfriend think?" asked Shinobu.
He didn't actually know if Akito had a girlfriend.
His eyes turned to his own arm. It was not easy to maintain physical strength close to a guy's with his body, but Shinobu managed. It involved a lot more exercise, and a few protein shakes. But it paid off; Shinobu was often the first to volunteer for any sort of heavy duty work, and no one ever suspected anything off about the contents of Shinobu's pants.
With an inward sigh, Shinobu looked towards Akina. And he realised he had nothing to say, and the nervous expression etched on his face said it better than the silence.
"Uh... I don't know..." muttered Shinobu sheepishly. "It's fortunate that no one else is going to be entering here for some time. The President's sick, and the vice president is probably chewing out someone for leaving gum at the school elevator. Or something."
He giggled. "Maybe you could just decide later. Something not so physical. Or the girl's version of it."
Shinobu winked. It was time to mess with Akina, if just a little. He leaned back on his chair, staring at the ceiling. "What does your girlfriend think?" asked Shinobu.
He didn't actually know if Akito had a girlfriend.
”Well, it’ll be extremely awkward if you still felt like a guy after all that. Nature somehow finds a way. I’m at the council room if you need me.”
Shinobu stared at the message, his finger hovering over the ‘Send’ button. It felt opportunististic. It felt hollow. With a few angry taps, he erased his message and rewrote it.
”Council room.”
He sighed. Now it sounded like he didn’t care at all. Shinobu guessed that he sort of cared, considering how much time he was investing into a single text message with a girl. Other girls were easy-come, easy-go, but Akina was different.
”I actually emerged—”
No, this one was stupid. She’d ask so many questions, and Shinobu himself lacked answers to most of them.
Clutching his head and groaning, Shinobu grimaced and tapped out a reply, slamming his finger on the ‘Send’ button without a second glance. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Shinobu stood up, and walked to the council room.
”I’ll be at the concil room. Reckon thattheyre beter peopel to takl to about this.”
Shinobu stared at the message, his finger hovering over the ‘Send’ button. It felt opportunististic. It felt hollow. With a few angry taps, he erased his message and rewrote it.
”Council room.”
He sighed. Now it sounded like he didn’t care at all. Shinobu guessed that he sort of cared, considering how much time he was investing into a single text message with a girl. Other girls were easy-come, easy-go, but Akina was different.
”I actually emerged—”
No, this one was stupid. She’d ask so many questions, and Shinobu himself lacked answers to most of them.
Clutching his head and groaning, Shinobu grimaced and tapped out a reply, slamming his finger on the ‘Send’ button without a second glance. Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Shinobu stood up, and walked to the council room.
”I’ll be at the concil room. Reckon thattheyre beter peopel to takl to about this.”
With a clipboard in hand and a pen in the other, Shinobu’s path eventually led him around the corridor of his classroom. He didn’t need to walk around when doing basic administrative work of the student council, but Shinobu wanted the exercise.
It was by pure chance that he passed by his own classroom when the ‘new girl’ introduced herself. Just barely out of sight and in a corner, Shinobu saw the brown-haired, green-eyed girl standing in front of class.
“Cute pigtails,” muttered Shinobu to himself.
His path led him directly to the entrance to his classroom when the bombshell dropped. The ‘new girl’ introduced herside as Akina Miyata; she had the same surname as Akito. A pair of alliterative names generally meant siblings. Shinobu guessed that.
And in a single sentence, the ‘new girl’ dropped the bombshell. She was Akito Miyata, she said.
Shinobu’s clipboard clattered onto the floor, and his pen followed in quick succession. The homeroom teacher, Mr. Smith, looked towards him.
“Shinobu, you look pale.”
Shinobu squatted downwards to pick up his items, and found time to direct a smile upwards. “I apologise for the interruption.”
His demeanour belied his thoughts. Akito, a 15 year old boy, ended up emerging. Most emergences happened before a boy’s 10th birthday, and for Shinobu, it happened on sometime after his sixth. He eventually got used to it, just like everyone else who emerged.
10 years later, however, his mind would still remain a boy’s. If Shinobu spoke Japanese regularly, he would have used the ‘僕’ pronoun to refer to himself. It was fortunate that only his father and the headmaster knew. The doctor called it a ‘possible case of partial emergence’, and that Shinobu might ‘outgrow this tomboyish fad’.
These thoughts came bubbling to the surface of Shinobu’s mind as he rushed off into a corner of the school.
“Damn it. Damn. It. Damn. It,” Shinobu clutched his head and began to laugh. This was one of the things he could not change. His thoughts wandered to Akina, and how h—she was dealing with this.
Popping his phone out of his pocket, Shinobu shot a message to the number labelled ‘Akito Miyata’. She would have kept the phone, he reasoned.
”Hey. How’re you feeling?”
It was by pure chance that he passed by his own classroom when the ‘new girl’ introduced herself. Just barely out of sight and in a corner, Shinobu saw the brown-haired, green-eyed girl standing in front of class.
“Cute pigtails,” muttered Shinobu to himself.
His path led him directly to the entrance to his classroom when the bombshell dropped. The ‘new girl’ introduced herside as Akina Miyata; she had the same surname as Akito. A pair of alliterative names generally meant siblings. Shinobu guessed that.
And in a single sentence, the ‘new girl’ dropped the bombshell. She was Akito Miyata, she said.
Shinobu’s clipboard clattered onto the floor, and his pen followed in quick succession. The homeroom teacher, Mr. Smith, looked towards him.
“Shinobu, you look pale.”
Shinobu squatted downwards to pick up his items, and found time to direct a smile upwards. “I apologise for the interruption.”
His demeanour belied his thoughts. Akito, a 15 year old boy, ended up emerging. Most emergences happened before a boy’s 10th birthday, and for Shinobu, it happened on sometime after his sixth. He eventually got used to it, just like everyone else who emerged.
10 years later, however, his mind would still remain a boy’s. If Shinobu spoke Japanese regularly, he would have used the ‘僕’ pronoun to refer to himself. It was fortunate that only his father and the headmaster knew. The doctor called it a ‘possible case of partial emergence’, and that Shinobu might ‘outgrow this tomboyish fad’.
These thoughts came bubbling to the surface of Shinobu’s mind as he rushed off into a corner of the school.
“Damn it. Damn. It. Damn. It,” Shinobu clutched his head and began to laugh. This was one of the things he could not change. His thoughts wandered to Akina, and how h—she was dealing with this.
Popping his phone out of his pocket, Shinobu shot a message to the number labelled ‘Akito Miyata’. She would have kept the phone, he reasoned.
”Hey. How’re you feeling?”
Shinobu is about 1.78 metres tall.
Name: Shinobu 'Shinja' Hattori
Age: 16
History: Shinobu was born a boy, but ended up going through Emergence at the age of 6. However, unlike most of the children who undergo the Emergence, he could not mentally accept the change. Pretending that nothing had ever happened to his friends and classmates, Shinobu continued to live the life of a male for the next 10 years.
Reputation: A member of the student council, Shinobu is the dream-guy of a good percentage of the girls in his school. His father is an important patron to the high school.
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In Quinn's Line, whorehouses were the best places for information, and the Viper's Den was the only place where prostitutes didn't try to upsell their services to the patrons of the 'drinking' side of establishment. It was classy, and classy meant separating sex and alcohol with the heavy end of a bouncer's club.
Also, when a den of iniquity allowed Gale to carry his sword in, they must have been pretty confident in their security measures. Flashes of steel inadvertently accompanied every move of a barmaid that focused the male gaze upon their cleavage, and the male workers too seemed likely concealed daggers in their thighs. Perhaps every employee within this place was armed, and they granted their customers the luxury of that.
But they didn't actually keep their weapons when having sex. He didn't know that personally, but Bailey told him.
"Why don't you go there and fuck someone? I ain't judging if it's a lady."
Gale flinched. The conversation ran through his head again. It was almost 2 years since he last saw Bailey, but this conversation always stuck out in his mind.
"Hell, a lady's better for you. No need of silphium or any of that nasty smelling herbs that those whores munch on to 'get the blood flowing out of their bits' again."
Gale recalled Bailey's hands performing finger quotes beside him. And Gale recalled his reply to him.
"Not interested."
"Ya'll be missing out on the best parts of life! Hell, I'll forge a medical certificate for you that says you're a man!"
"Not. Interested."
"Aw, you're no fun, Gale. Always a stubborn bitch."
The memory faded from Gale's surface thoughts, and the knight's eyes wandered to the doorway that separated the drinking side from the tavern side. A bulky man stood at the doorway, his lazy piggy eyes glancing into the distance. The fingers upon his right hand wrapped upon a club resting on the edge of the bar counter just beside him. He was bald, and wore only white cotton pants with brown boots, but the massive bulk he carried, likely a mixture of muscle and fat, was enough to scare any rowdy drunkards. He was the dumb muscle of the separation between whorehouse and respectable watering hole.
Just beside him, a bespectacled, wiry man stood, his fingers clasped and twitching together. With a balding scalp and a wrinkled face, Gale could see no weapons upon the man, nor did his posture inspire confidence in anyone, least of all the man himself. He was dressed in a smart black uniform that the very same butlers in his household once attired themselves in, but the perspiration from the man was thick enough to show up against black. The man was most likely able to read, and the brains of the operation. If anyone wanted a prostitute, they needed proof of their cleanliness.
Well, it wasn't his problem.
Gale turned to the bartender, not caring if it was a man or a woman.
"A beer, please," said Gale. He forced his voice deeper as he spoke. Being called 'Knight of Footstools' was an insult Gale adopted to signify his besting of knights far taller than him, but being called the 'Knight of Woman's Tone' wasn't going to help his case.
Also, when a den of iniquity allowed Gale to carry his sword in, they must have been pretty confident in their security measures. Flashes of steel inadvertently accompanied every move of a barmaid that focused the male gaze upon their cleavage, and the male workers too seemed likely concealed daggers in their thighs. Perhaps every employee within this place was armed, and they granted their customers the luxury of that.
But they didn't actually keep their weapons when having sex. He didn't know that personally, but Bailey told him.
"Why don't you go there and fuck someone? I ain't judging if it's a lady."
Gale flinched. The conversation ran through his head again. It was almost 2 years since he last saw Bailey, but this conversation always stuck out in his mind.
"Hell, a lady's better for you. No need of silphium or any of that nasty smelling herbs that those whores munch on to 'get the blood flowing out of their bits' again."
Gale recalled Bailey's hands performing finger quotes beside him. And Gale recalled his reply to him.
"Not interested."
"Ya'll be missing out on the best parts of life! Hell, I'll forge a medical certificate for you that says you're a man!"
"Not. Interested."
"Aw, you're no fun, Gale. Always a stubborn bitch."
The memory faded from Gale's surface thoughts, and the knight's eyes wandered to the doorway that separated the drinking side from the tavern side. A bulky man stood at the doorway, his lazy piggy eyes glancing into the distance. The fingers upon his right hand wrapped upon a club resting on the edge of the bar counter just beside him. He was bald, and wore only white cotton pants with brown boots, but the massive bulk he carried, likely a mixture of muscle and fat, was enough to scare any rowdy drunkards. He was the dumb muscle of the separation between whorehouse and respectable watering hole.
Just beside him, a bespectacled, wiry man stood, his fingers clasped and twitching together. With a balding scalp and a wrinkled face, Gale could see no weapons upon the man, nor did his posture inspire confidence in anyone, least of all the man himself. He was dressed in a smart black uniform that the very same butlers in his household once attired themselves in, but the perspiration from the man was thick enough to show up against black. The man was most likely able to read, and the brains of the operation. If anyone wanted a prostitute, they needed proof of their cleanliness.
Well, it wasn't his problem.
Gale turned to the bartender, not caring if it was a man or a woman.
"A beer, please," said Gale. He forced his voice deeper as he spoke. Being called 'Knight of Footstools' was an insult Gale adopted to signify his besting of knights far taller than him, but being called the 'Knight of Woman's Tone' wasn't going to help his case.
Name: Ser Gale Karling of Valley's March
Nicknames:
Last of the Karlings
Knight of Footstools
Gender: Female, biologically
Age: 26
Likes: Simple things, problems that can be solved by swinging a sword, poetry, art, being a deadpan snarker
Dislikes: Unnecessary violence/bloodshed, encountering a deadpan snarker, the complexity of politics, sexually aggressive people
Appearance: Gale is average height for a woman, which sadly translates to 'below average height' for a man.
Bio: The House of Karling was once a famous house that ruled Port Rokenlands in Valley's March, and Gale was never meant to be the heir to the family name. Gale wanted to be taught swordfighting. The House of Karling was blessed with many sons and daughters, and Gale's father, Duke Wesley Karling, and he allowed his daughter this strange departure from the norms of courtly learnings.
Trained in Quinn's Line by the old sellsword Bailey, Gale was far away from her homeland when it fell to rebels led by the disgraced noble Waris Graced, and the entire Karling family, but her, were massacred. She was only 16 that time, but she swore revenge against Graced. Gale returned to Valley's March, and gained support for the war against the House of Graced by granting her birthright to Port Rokenlands to the minor noble house Tandalls. Revenge was the only thing on Gale's mind. While the house Tandalls knew of Gale's true gender, despite the armor she walked in when she first met the Tandalls, they treated her as a knight in their service just like any other.
Gale duelled Waris Graced, killing her father's murderer, and supported the Tandalls in controlling and suppressing the rest of Port Rokenlands, known as the War for Rokenlands. Gale was knighted 'Ser Gale Karling' by the Tandalls. While there were female knights, though their numbers at any point were so few one could count them on a smuggler's amputated fingers, before Gale, and they took the prefix 'Dame' to their name, Gale insisted on the title of 'Ser'. Gale had received some fame at this point, though just about every history book that mentions Gale called her 'the last son of the Karlings, who threw away his birthright to grant his family the honour of justice'. Gale didn't mind. Being a male knight was so much easier than being a female peasant.
It had been 10 years since the death of Waris Graced. Gale was involved in a few other minor wars within the Kingdom of Illyria, eventually gaining the moniker 'Knight of Footstools' for his short height. He's still good friends with the rulers of Port Rokenlands and the rulers of Valley's March.
Valley's March
A legendary sorcerer's attempt to defeat his foes led him to cast the greatest spell in his lifetime in the lands of Vale's End, and it was said that the valleys moved upon his command. While no one is able to determine the veracity of the legend, the name 'Valley's March' stuck with the region long after Vale's End was relegated to history books. A region filled with valleys and rivers, the great bulk of territory as compared to the other regions misleads many on the power of Valley's March. Valley's March is no more powerful than any other of the regions. Ruled by the House of Arpallis since time immemorial, the current ruler is Grand Duke Lucian Arpallis, the 29 year old grand duke is an unassuming figure in the politics beyond his region, but rules relatively fairly and justly. A childhood friend of Gale, he admits being smitten by the young girl when they first met, but respects Gale's decisions about his own life, if a little baffled by them.
Nicknames:
Last of the Karlings
Knight of Footstools
Gender: Female, biologically
Age: 26
Likes: Simple things, problems that can be solved by swinging a sword, poetry, art, being a deadpan snarker
Dislikes: Unnecessary violence/bloodshed, encountering a deadpan snarker, the complexity of politics, sexually aggressive people
Appearance: Gale is average height for a woman, which sadly translates to 'below average height' for a man.
Bio: The House of Karling was once a famous house that ruled Port Rokenlands in Valley's March, and Gale was never meant to be the heir to the family name. Gale wanted to be taught swordfighting. The House of Karling was blessed with many sons and daughters, and Gale's father, Duke Wesley Karling, and he allowed his daughter this strange departure from the norms of courtly learnings.
Trained in Quinn's Line by the old sellsword Bailey, Gale was far away from her homeland when it fell to rebels led by the disgraced noble Waris Graced, and the entire Karling family, but her, were massacred. She was only 16 that time, but she swore revenge against Graced. Gale returned to Valley's March, and gained support for the war against the House of Graced by granting her birthright to Port Rokenlands to the minor noble house Tandalls. Revenge was the only thing on Gale's mind. While the house Tandalls knew of Gale's true gender, despite the armor she walked in when she first met the Tandalls, they treated her as a knight in their service just like any other.
Gale duelled Waris Graced, killing her father's murderer, and supported the Tandalls in controlling and suppressing the rest of Port Rokenlands, known as the War for Rokenlands. Gale was knighted 'Ser Gale Karling' by the Tandalls. While there were female knights, though their numbers at any point were so few one could count them on a smuggler's amputated fingers, before Gale, and they took the prefix 'Dame' to their name, Gale insisted on the title of 'Ser'. Gale had received some fame at this point, though just about every history book that mentions Gale called her 'the last son of the Karlings, who threw away his birthright to grant his family the honour of justice'. Gale didn't mind. Being a male knight was so much easier than being a female peasant.
It had been 10 years since the death of Waris Graced. Gale was involved in a few other minor wars within the Kingdom of Illyria, eventually gaining the moniker 'Knight of Footstools' for his short height. He's still good friends with the rulers of Port Rokenlands and the rulers of Valley's March.
Valley's March
A legendary sorcerer's attempt to defeat his foes led him to cast the greatest spell in his lifetime in the lands of Vale's End, and it was said that the valleys moved upon his command. While no one is able to determine the veracity of the legend, the name 'Valley's March' stuck with the region long after Vale's End was relegated to history books. A region filled with valleys and rivers, the great bulk of territory as compared to the other regions misleads many on the power of Valley's March. Valley's March is no more powerful than any other of the regions. Ruled by the House of Arpallis since time immemorial, the current ruler is Grand Duke Lucian Arpallis, the 29 year old grand duke is an unassuming figure in the politics beyond his region, but rules relatively fairly and justly. A childhood friend of Gale, he admits being smitten by the young girl when they first met, but respects Gale's decisions about his own life, if a little baffled by them.
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