Post by Lexi Scáthe on Jun 9, 2010 18:43:50 GMT -5
What happens when Reesa gets bored at work...not done yet lol plus idk when we wanna play with POV
Cris had a bad habit of glaring at the world through icy eyes. It didn’t hurt matters that her eyes were the color of ice. She didn’t let any emotion through that gaze, hadn’t in a long while. Her full lips were pulled thin into a scowl, like usual, as she surveyed the world below her from her perch. Bare feet padded along the rough stone of the Wall that fenced in the campus to the House of Night here in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She should be playing her music. Would have been playing her music…if only… Well, if only that bastard of a professor hadn’t confiscated it for the day because she had been caught playing it instead of going to class. His class to be exact.
Cris never went to class though. It didn’t help that her best friend most often didn’t either. He was such a bad influence on her but she loved him for that. The two often sat here, playing their music…but not today.
She hated when professors confiscated her guitar. It put her in a perpetual bad mood that nothing could seem to get her out of. Until she got back her guitar of course. But the professors knew by now that it was the only form of punishment that actually got to her. Detention she didn’t care about, community service she’d just never show up to and trying to take away anything else only got them a blank “so what” look from her. So it had to be her guitar. Bah…what did it matter anyway? She jumped off the wall, landing on her feet and sinking into a slight crouch to absorb the landing before straightening and walking through the cool grass of the night, her thoughts elsewhere. At least the dammed place was deserted. That was one of the few plusses she could find about tonight.
Why was it empty? Because Cris was skipping. Again. If those idiots thought they could actually get her to class they dammed well had another thing coming.
Oh well. Hands clad in black fingerless gloves pushed open the door to her destination that she had finally arrived at. The Rec Hall. She was glad to find it deserted. Cris loved this place when it was empty. It was so big, it had so much possibility… She moved to her usual room, not bothering to close the door behind her as she entered. She figured that there was no point, she doubted that anyone would be around…and leaving it open made it easier for her. With that issue of hers…She shook that thought from her mind easily as if it had never occurred.
Back to the task at hand. This was her favorite room, she liked it for the slight padding on the floor. Not enough to entirely cushion the fall but enough if a person, like Cris, knew how to fall properly. She had been taught how to fall properly ages ago and still held on to the talent. It came in useful more times then she could count. She had learned back when she had first been forced into taking gymnastics ages ago. She had hated it. Now, she was glad for it.
She slipped the slim black iPod from the breast pocket on the simple tank top she wore. The little device was one of the few things that she had kept from her pre-Marked days but she needed her music. Or she would die inside. She pushed the little player onto the iHome that was always there in this room, turned the volume up as high as her ears could stand…and hit play.
A thick heavy beat like a heartbeat filled the room and she felt like her heart adjusted its beat to go along with the music. It wasn’t the popular stuff that blasted from the speakers now, no. No light stuff for this girl. She liked the harder things in life. As long as it had a good beat though, that was the only thing she needed to do what she did. She slid off the gloves that she almost never took off and set them by the electronics before padding over to the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, she waited for the proper moment.
On the right beat was when she took off, a simple aerial—or rather a no-handed handstand—was first, followed by a back handspring to take her right back to where she started, in the center. It was freeing to fly like this. To let go completely.
But that wasn’t why she did this. Well, that wasn’t the main reason at least. In this crazy world, Cris liked knowing how to defend herself. And add this agility to the natural strength and speed that came from being what she was? She felt damn good about her chances.
With a slight grin she ran at the wall and kicked off it in a back flip. It wasn’t part of her routine exactly, but it amused her to do it. She moved through her usual routine after that deviation easily. With the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. Because she had.
Until a simple handspring proved to be her undoing. Her feet landed slightly wrong, causing her to loose her balance when she actually did land fully, and make her pitch forward. Face to meet ground style. She slapped the ground with the heels of her palms hard to take the pressure off of the fall and then she rolled to sit. That way she had fallen the right way and not bashed her face in or broken her nose. “Dammit” she muttered in a low voice, pissed off at herself for missing that simple flip. It was the easiest of her routine and the last one she had to make.
Cris pushed her chestnut colored bangs from her face where they had fallen to dust over her eyes, briefly revealing the bright red crescent on her forehead before they fell again to cover it again, though this time more to the side and out of Cris’s eyes. She looked up and her icy eyes met just as guarded grey ones.
Dang she was tiny. She looked almost like a doll, well a gothic doll. That was Cris’s thought as she took in the Japanese girl with the grey eyes who was currently standing in the doorway. Her style was one Cris could appreciate. It was dark, but playful in some bizarre way. Which was cool in Cris’s opinion, but she was busy being annoyed that someone had actually seen her fall. She hated that.
Add that to the fact that Cris didn’t like girls. Okay, so Cris wasn’t a people person at all but she really didn’t like girls. Bunch of backstabbing bitches, the lot of them and all they wanted was gossip that Cris refused to give or supply. If she could help it.
So Cris’s expression stayed icy and guarded as she took in the girl, saying nothing. She had caught Cris after she had fallen, and bruised egos weren’t pretty. So Cris would say nothing and hope she would disappear.
No such luck for Cris it seemed.
“Hey. Cool music, you like the dark stuff too, huh?” was the first thing the girl actually said to her. So apparently it had been her music to draw the other girl over. Well, it was loud. “I’m Miyuki. You?” Cris waited a moment to reply, unsure of how to go about this one. She didn’t like girls as a rule…but this one seemed too much like her to not at least answer.
Oh well, it wouldn’t kill her. But she kept her guard up. “Crissatha Pandora. Cris to most” she said, standing to retrieve her gloves. She didn’t look at the girl as she spoke, but Cris didn’t do well with people usually, she tended to keep to herself more often then not. Or her boys. “And yeah, I love the darker stuff” she replied finally, turning back towards the girl and dusting off her newly glove-clad hands on her black sweatpants that she had hacked off at the knee. Her old instructor would have killed her if he had seen her in this but oh well.
Cris had a bad habit of glaring at the world through icy eyes. It didn’t hurt matters that her eyes were the color of ice. She didn’t let any emotion through that gaze, hadn’t in a long while. Her full lips were pulled thin into a scowl, like usual, as she surveyed the world below her from her perch. Bare feet padded along the rough stone of the Wall that fenced in the campus to the House of Night here in Tulsa, Oklahoma. She should be playing her music. Would have been playing her music…if only… Well, if only that bastard of a professor hadn’t confiscated it for the day because she had been caught playing it instead of going to class. His class to be exact.
Cris never went to class though. It didn’t help that her best friend most often didn’t either. He was such a bad influence on her but she loved him for that. The two often sat here, playing their music…but not today.
She hated when professors confiscated her guitar. It put her in a perpetual bad mood that nothing could seem to get her out of. Until she got back her guitar of course. But the professors knew by now that it was the only form of punishment that actually got to her. Detention she didn’t care about, community service she’d just never show up to and trying to take away anything else only got them a blank “so what” look from her. So it had to be her guitar. Bah…what did it matter anyway? She jumped off the wall, landing on her feet and sinking into a slight crouch to absorb the landing before straightening and walking through the cool grass of the night, her thoughts elsewhere. At least the dammed place was deserted. That was one of the few plusses she could find about tonight.
Why was it empty? Because Cris was skipping. Again. If those idiots thought they could actually get her to class they dammed well had another thing coming.
Oh well. Hands clad in black fingerless gloves pushed open the door to her destination that she had finally arrived at. The Rec Hall. She was glad to find it deserted. Cris loved this place when it was empty. It was so big, it had so much possibility… She moved to her usual room, not bothering to close the door behind her as she entered. She figured that there was no point, she doubted that anyone would be around…and leaving it open made it easier for her. With that issue of hers…She shook that thought from her mind easily as if it had never occurred.
Back to the task at hand. This was her favorite room, she liked it for the slight padding on the floor. Not enough to entirely cushion the fall but enough if a person, like Cris, knew how to fall properly. She had been taught how to fall properly ages ago and still held on to the talent. It came in useful more times then she could count. She had learned back when she had first been forced into taking gymnastics ages ago. She had hated it. Now, she was glad for it.
She slipped the slim black iPod from the breast pocket on the simple tank top she wore. The little device was one of the few things that she had kept from her pre-Marked days but she needed her music. Or she would die inside. She pushed the little player onto the iHome that was always there in this room, turned the volume up as high as her ears could stand…and hit play.
A thick heavy beat like a heartbeat filled the room and she felt like her heart adjusted its beat to go along with the music. It wasn’t the popular stuff that blasted from the speakers now, no. No light stuff for this girl. She liked the harder things in life. As long as it had a good beat though, that was the only thing she needed to do what she did. She slid off the gloves that she almost never took off and set them by the electronics before padding over to the center of the room. Taking a deep breath, she waited for the proper moment.
On the right beat was when she took off, a simple aerial—or rather a no-handed handstand—was first, followed by a back handspring to take her right back to where she started, in the center. It was freeing to fly like this. To let go completely.
But that wasn’t why she did this. Well, that wasn’t the main reason at least. In this crazy world, Cris liked knowing how to defend herself. And add this agility to the natural strength and speed that came from being what she was? She felt damn good about her chances.
With a slight grin she ran at the wall and kicked off it in a back flip. It wasn’t part of her routine exactly, but it amused her to do it. She moved through her usual routine after that deviation easily. With the ease of someone who had been doing it for years. Because she had.
Until a simple handspring proved to be her undoing. Her feet landed slightly wrong, causing her to loose her balance when she actually did land fully, and make her pitch forward. Face to meet ground style. She slapped the ground with the heels of her palms hard to take the pressure off of the fall and then she rolled to sit. That way she had fallen the right way and not bashed her face in or broken her nose. “Dammit” she muttered in a low voice, pissed off at herself for missing that simple flip. It was the easiest of her routine and the last one she had to make.
Cris pushed her chestnut colored bangs from her face where they had fallen to dust over her eyes, briefly revealing the bright red crescent on her forehead before they fell again to cover it again, though this time more to the side and out of Cris’s eyes. She looked up and her icy eyes met just as guarded grey ones.
Dang she was tiny. She looked almost like a doll, well a gothic doll. That was Cris’s thought as she took in the Japanese girl with the grey eyes who was currently standing in the doorway. Her style was one Cris could appreciate. It was dark, but playful in some bizarre way. Which was cool in Cris’s opinion, but she was busy being annoyed that someone had actually seen her fall. She hated that.
Add that to the fact that Cris didn’t like girls. Okay, so Cris wasn’t a people person at all but she really didn’t like girls. Bunch of backstabbing bitches, the lot of them and all they wanted was gossip that Cris refused to give or supply. If she could help it.
So Cris’s expression stayed icy and guarded as she took in the girl, saying nothing. She had caught Cris after she had fallen, and bruised egos weren’t pretty. So Cris would say nothing and hope she would disappear.
No such luck for Cris it seemed.
“Hey. Cool music, you like the dark stuff too, huh?” was the first thing the girl actually said to her. So apparently it had been her music to draw the other girl over. Well, it was loud. “I’m Miyuki. You?” Cris waited a moment to reply, unsure of how to go about this one. She didn’t like girls as a rule…but this one seemed too much like her to not at least answer.
Oh well, it wouldn’t kill her. But she kept her guard up. “Crissatha Pandora. Cris to most” she said, standing to retrieve her gloves. She didn’t look at the girl as she spoke, but Cris didn’t do well with people usually, she tended to keep to herself more often then not. Or her boys. “And yeah, I love the darker stuff” she replied finally, turning back towards the girl and dusting off her newly glove-clad hands on her black sweatpants that she had hacked off at the knee. Her old instructor would have killed her if he had seen her in this but oh well.
