Quarter: Dyo Year: 81378 Day: 10th OOC: I think I'm allowed to post IC now, correct? >_< *gambles* IC: Mmm... fruitylicious... The formerly potent aroma of fruity shampoo still clung to the multicoloured strands of her stringy hair. Yeah, sure, it was still messy, but hey... at least the grease and grime was gone now. Yep, she had finally had the chance to actually wash her hair, instead of simply pull it back or let it hang in her face. It had been quite a switch, moving from home to be on her own. She hadn't been going anywhere in her former residence anyway, and wasted talent seemed a shame to her. What little talent she posessed. She had been more than happy to leave, allowing thoughts of what she would finally be rid of to recourse through her hazy mind. Now she would move on to bigger and better things, actually attend school, and hell, maybe even meet new students. The only pang of remourse that would hold her back was the thought of leaving her Jane, and all of her break time buddies. They hadn't sent her off empty handed, of course. After a bit of negotiating, the neighborhood cronies had packed away a bit of the good stuff in a brown doggy bag, take-out if you please, which she had quickly shoved into a pocket of her compact backpack and zipped up, saving it for later. Not hours before her arrival at the Academy, she had used up the last of it, savoring every sweet second of what was most likely to be her last trip for a good while. The thought caused a shudder to posess her burdened shoulders, and a clenching tightness in her stomach. Side effects from the dose... bad thoughts... or was it the fact that she hadn't eaten anything in three days? Truthfully, the monochrome 'dragon hadn't noticed her hunger, hadn't a need to really eat while she still had a good supply. However, she now reaped the negative effects of her negligence, and continued to saunter down the cold hallway, trying her best to ignore the demanding sloshing of her hollow stomach. Alternately coloured digits trembled lightly as she raised her hand to grab for a nearby lock of hair. Grasping it gingerly, she pulled the yellowed chunks to the surface of her nose and inhaled deeply. Scents of sun ripened raspberry were sucked into the cavities of her charcoal nostrils, and so remained there until they were ejected with a huffing exhale. It felt excellent to be able to take a shower. Even if it wasn't her own shower, it had still relaxed and eased her body and mind. Who on earth leaves their windows open while they're out and about... Her mind sneered in reply to thoughts of the vacant home. Being a skilled Con Artist, the hefty two-tone found that she couldn't have passed up the opportunity. While making her bumbling way toward the school, she had randomly, and surprisingly, thought of her appearance. Not wanting to look slobbish on her first official day of her new "spic and span" life, she pondered the idea of a shower, and had scanned the area for posibilities. The window had been open, nobody was home, and they indeed held access to a shower. So, she had used theirs, cleaning herself up, taking as much time as she had needed. She thought of perhaps even tossing her soiled clothes in their washer and dryer, but didn't wish to press her luck. Fortunately, they hadn't come back in the ammount of time it took her to clean up, and she was on her way in no time. She could recall how the hot water felt as it surrounded her body and seemed to massage her tense muscles. Lathering was her favorite part... when the strong berry smells of the fortifying shampoo could almost be tasted in the air, and the pain of her queasy stomach hadn't been so evident. Presently, the vibrant maned rogue slipped down the hallway, which felt as though it extended forever. The metallic clicking of her outstretched nails sounded like high heels through the marble extension, announcing her presence long before her striped form could be seen. Being bi-pedal was a blessing, or so she would see it. She didn't regret that she couldn't shift like some she knew of, and it didn't strike a jelous chord in her that she only had two legs to stand on instead of four. It only meant less ache in her limbs when traveling long distances. Her butt longed for a chair to snuggle up to, and her calves screamed in agony, cursing that the upper half was bull headed and daft. Finally... The framed entrance of a doorway inched closer and closer as she arrived at some sort of office. Now was the time for her to enroll, which honestly instilled a bit of concern in her. They didn't know her past... fortunately.... She could fib, stretch the truth, improve things, imbelish a little. Yeah, that was it. Lowering a feline's canine to grip her bottom lip, she crossed the entry into the office space, the frayed and tangled fragments of her starred and striped jean bottoms trailing limply along behind her.Surely someone would notice her soon enough, be it student or teacher.
<h4>Out of Character</h4> Yapyap, you should be. I like your post, and your character, so here I am. Okkie’s a bit mischievous. :) <h4>In Character</h4>The femme turned this-a-way, and that-a-way, then this-a-way again, the base of the spinning office chair squeaking as she abused its flexibilities. It protested against this misuse, and, not wanting to attract unwanted attention, Okkie used her toned rump muscles to still herself. But sitting still was no fun, so once she came to a halt, she swung her cinnamon hind feet onto the desktop before her. She crossed her striped ankles and leaned back, the chairback reclining under her weight. Soft and scruffy tail wound behind her, and Okkie relaxed completely, splaying her single arm across her stomach as she reposed. She shifted her weight a bit to get more comfortable, and the dark denim of her jeans rustled as she did so. Banded femme cast a wary look around, now completely at ease, and then she fished into her pocket with her right arm. Seconds later, a cigarette had been withdrawn, and it was smoldering on her lips, as the mischief-maker sat there, daydreaming. She had been sent here by the principal, Hart Demori, to do some office work. Seemed the staff was too caught up in Dyo festitivites and such to oversee the enrollments and other paperwork. Thus, they had employed students to do all of that, and Okkie had been one of the selected. She knew that, under normal circumstances, she would not have been chosen for this job, not ever. She had a pretty infamous reputation with the staff already — Hart herself had caught Okkie stealing from the vending machine in the teachers lounge not too long ago. And the coaches of her various sports teams were stern and concerned about her smoking habits. But the fact was, she was now in PPP (Positive Peer Power), and everybody in Triple P had been needed for this work. Even Hart could not prevent Okkie from being employed. She snickered as she thought of this, and then Okkie leaned forward, deftly holding her cigarette between two fingers as she glanced at the papers on the desktop. Her particular job was to handle new students, to do the first part of their registration process. But there was really no way in hell that she was going to be doing her job. After all, it was volunteer work, and she though she was part of Triple P, she really had no good intentions. She had been inspired to join the group for two reasons — she got to miss class for opportunities like this (“community service"), and she also got to screw around with new students. Beat that. Coyote-like ears pinned as the teenager wondered when she would get her first chance to do just that — mess with a student. Little did she know, the answer was padding down the corrider just now. Mop smelling of fruity shampoo, her gaze and demeanor somewhat bland as she traipsed towards the foyer and the front desk, where Okkie still sat, hunched over the desk, puffing idly on her cigarette. “Oh! Look! A newcomer. Hi, my name is Miss Gorillapants, and I will be your help-diddly-’elper today! Did you need registration papers? A room assignment? A tour? Or perhaps a peer counselor, eh?" Okkie leaned forwards over her desk, the cigarette dangling from her lips, eyeing the approaching stranger. She wondered if the smoking and the lack of a left arm would intimidate this stranger. “To listen to all your wo-o-oes, and make your day just a little brighter! In any case, I can help you, yes I can! So, how exactly may I be of service to you today, dearie?" She twittered in her sweetest, most sarcastic voice, still pointedly fingering the roll in her right hand.
OOC: Thanks muchly, same to you. :) IC: Die tick, die tick, die tick .... It was driving her absolutely insane. The already half decapitated fuse that led to the core of her patience was fizzling away with each tick of the clock. The most annoying sound in the world to someone who had nothing but time on their hands. She had to do something. Desperately, the newspaper hued femme yearned to do something, anything but wait, be it creative or destructive. Prefferably the latter. Senses having become accustomed to being able to hold something between her fingers, they subconciously began to drum at the air, one by one, causing an inaudible riot and making her appear incredibly insane. Click.... ticka.... tick.... Iced irises shrunk and regressed to seemingly only the pupil, as they shifted and traipsed the empty room. Was nobody here today? It would figure, she mused to herself, that there would be noone to help her when she actually got off her tired butt and attempted a stab at normal life. Of course. Damn these pesky pant dwelling ants... Almost spazztically her unsheathed toes tapped the floor, not making a sound, but scrunching up the dirty bottoms of her prized jeans. Resorting to inhaling hair scents, Rochi again snatched a layer of her unkempt hair and breathed deeply. The action somehow seemed to calm her, it was familiar and soothing, even if it was only raspberry odor she sucked up. For some odd reason, she was quite proud of her hair. It was pretty long, not the length just yet that she wished it to be, but more hippy-ish than most others. Another boasting point. She quickly released her thoughts on how long the recent washing would last... a few days maybe? Or would she get the chance to bathe again sooner? It didn't truly matter to her... to those surrounding her forced to put up with a grease ball maybe, but who cared about them? Certainly not her. Now she could no longer stand inhaling hairs, and was forced to place something betwixt her varying digits. Something cyllendrical, a good length... ha... a pencil would do. Antsy fingers turned to tear at the confounded laces and zippers that armored her backpack, frantically searching for any writing utensil. Pausing mid grab, the psychadelic teen listened carefully as she tried to figure out just what that odd noise was. Coming from somewhere unknown in the room was a sort of... swiveling sound, rolling across the floor... and soon enough the thing came into sight. A tan pendragon skid to a desk with papers, delectible looking cigarette poised delicately in her fingers. Unsure of just what to do, whether the fortunate smoker served purpose as an aide in the office or was simply goofing off, the jittery newbie returned briefly to the attempt at finding a pencil. A slightly gnawed on number two was retrieved successfully from a pocket and immediately slipped into the crevices of her taloned fingers, which she waved in the air, back and forth with a crazy mambo rythem. Perfect... Obviously having been spotted by the other, Rochi rolled her tired shoulders and let her ebony ears fix themselves on her voice. Miss Gorillapants. Lovely name. Irritated eyes noticed the bronzed female's demeanor, extremely giddy and overwhelmingly pleasant. Whatever she's on, I want some. A curt, hushed laugh escaped the climax of her vocals and was launched into the air. It felt odd, not having the feeling of spiraling, whispy smoke making pale curls around her muzzle as she breathed. Apparently, this one knew what she was doing. A feeling of gratitude settled in over her anxious coating, and she tried her best to quit fidgiting. Though, the sight of the burning cigarette dangling from her mouth made the feat seem almost impossible. Devious thoughts and inquiries entered the thick wall of her crania. wonder where her stash is... in one of the drawers maybe? Or.... does she carry them around with her.... mmm, wouldn't blame her for that one. Maybe.... maybe if they're in a drawer, I'll scope the place later. Bodice was giving in to fatigue, having not eaten or slept in a decent ammount of time was finally catching up. Drat... Her own arrogant pride, and caution was the only thing stopping her from plopping her lazy ass down in one of the poorly cushioned chair that lined a nearby wall of the office. Trying her hardest to conjour up a reply quickly, she decided to give it a whirl and be.... honest, to some extent. Slinging the backpack back over her striped shoulder, she leaned a bit closer to the desk. Well, Miss Gorillapants, I have a question before we begin. That being, do you have a nickname? The title seemed odd enough, and Rochi was almost too sure that the student was playing a sickly trick on her. How fun. Its my first day here and I believe I need to fill out some papers.. eh, and such. Getting a room would be great too. I'm up for a short tour, I s'pose. Anddd... I think I'll be seeing a councelor soon enough. The truth had sprung already... or at least part of the truth. Short and to the point her words were, yes. Wasted breath was bad for both sides. The speaker would most likely not want to keep talking to someone who wasn't listening anyways, and the listen would probably really rather be doing something of importance. A moaning growl was issued within the pits of her stomach, and she found that she didn't even have the strength to grimace. Instead, she simply turned blank faced to the honied helper. Y'have any muffins... or other edibles? At that moment in time, she woul have gladly eaten chalk.
It did not take an extreme amount of skill or intuition to recognize another junkie, and Okkie paused for a brief moment as she scrutinized the approaching stranger more closely. Something about the unfamiliar female seemed to reflect like a mirror, and the banded she-pendragon instantly recognized a fellow smoker, if not all-out pothead. Two seamless caramel ears flicked back against her nape, and she chewed on the butt of her cigarette as she watched the stranger come ever closer. It was like Okkie could reach out with invisible fingers and pry into this young one — could see the inner workings, wheelings, and dealings inside her head. She probably wants a smoke, and if she doesn’t ask for one, it means she’s gonna come back in her spare time and sneak one out. Or so she thinks. Too bad, so sad, baby, but they’re all on me. And you don’t get any unless I deem you worthy. And so far, you are no such thing, just a newbie who smells like — is that raspberry? “Nickname?” She swung from mental dialogue to vocal swiftly and smoothly. “You can call me Twelve, actually. And what shall I call you? After all, if you want to get anywhere or do anything around here, you’ll be needing a student registry and ID, and those have to be processed here. But, first things first. Which trades are you involved in? I have to call up the proper logs on the computer network so that we can enter all your precious information, lovey. Then we can get the name and all that shit. Even a picture for your card, so I hope you brushed your teeth this morning.” While Okkie was speaking, she was whirling around the small office space in her wheeled chair, fluttering papers and pressing keys on computer pads and scratching gobbldygook on Post-its here and there. She was trying to come off as professional, or, at the very least, official. But the whole process was not working well with her, or at least not yet. So, the cocoa femme spun back towards the front counter, halting so that she was once again peering across at the stranger, sizing her up with blue and green eyes. Her stream-lined tail switched, once, twice, she took a drag on her cigarette. Then, leaning her chin in her palm, Okkie pinched her light out, ground it on the desk, and opened her maw to speak again. “Edibles, you say? I’ve nothing but cigarettes to cure the munchies, sorry.” And like I was saying to myself earlier, you get none of those unless you make me like you. Which is tough shit, so good luck.
OOC: Wheell, I was going to include a certain incident in this post, but this'n is way too long anyway, so I'll bring it up later. It ends a bit abruptly because of that. Oh the sheer torture of hoarding nicotine... e_0 IC: It was a strange feeling. Very strange indeed. She understood that she wasn't thinking quite clearly, but... all the same, she could feel it. It was hazy, but the new Academy arrival could swear that she heard something plodding through the chambers of her mind. Words... not her own, not the familiar sound of her inner child, or chiding concience. It was... -her- voice, the banded pendragon. The words weren't clear, and she hadn't actually 'heard' them... rather, knew what they meant, got the jist of what they were trying to say. For some reason, the other seemed a bit protective, as though she didn't want the newbie to do something, and in the same instant 'sounded' a bit snobbish. Wise, actually. The other had obviously been here a fair bit longer than she had, and thus had gained seniority and power, which entitled her to have every right to be commanding. A growing sense of competition made itself clear to Rochi, and compelled the scraggly haired student to prove herself, told her that she wouldn't get anywhere in the school without making a positive impression. For a meer moment, she took her intuition up on that offer, began thinking of feats that could be dubbed 'impressive', though that line of thought was quickly derailed, as her personality took the wheel. What the hell? I have nothing to prove. I just want a damn bed, maybe some food, and a few days of sleep. I.... have... nothing to prove. Scooching over to a different part of the sturdy desk, the delinquent shifted her weight from left to right, and found that her legs protested with a faulting buckle. Shit. Lines of her pale mouth tugged downwards in a guilty frown. She truly wanted to find a seat, sit down and rest a while, but a sense of duty prevented that. She didn't want to seem rude. Although, on any other given day she would have cared far less about being polite, her topsy-turvy mind screeched like a drill sergeant, commanding her that this was her only chance to enroll, and dare she screw up by putting 'her needs' first, she'd loose that chance. Obeying like a whipped spouse, the trippy 'dragon tried to find a solution. Folding an arm in front of her, she leaned forward, resting the majority of her weight on the limb, which gave temporary relief to her tender tootsies. And then, her voice came, clearly now, as she spoke regularly, through actual vocalization. Her name, wanting her own name, trades, and picture taking. And then... edibles? Yes, edibles! Ah, and cigarettes, yesss... nicotine, tar, tobacco, gimme gimme gimme! Mm. Fine. She nodded spaztically, her gaze fixed on the edge of the desk in front of the sandy one, before she lifted them to focus on the other; Twelve. Thats fine, thank you. I won't trouble you. I'll just swi No, not swipe. Careful, idiot, choose your words wisely. Gah... can't think on an empty stomach. Purchase something from a vending machina somewhere later. Cookies, and donuts, and chips, oh my! What a meal, what a meal. Anything she could digest and that would fill the empty cavity in her stomach, soak up the sloshing, would suit her just perfectly. A name... yes, she had a name. A name... I'm Rochi... I'll answer to most anything though. Short, to the point. No need to... or wait. School forms, duh. Full name needed, most likely. Eh... that is, the Rochi formerly known as Aerochiste Hellsong. For... mmm, any 'form purposes'. Running a rosy tongue along pearlie oral spades, she thought briefly, then answered the other questions. I'm into the fine arts of permanently making a mark on others ... tattoo artist She gave a good grind of the throaght, trying to clear it descreetly, her tapping fingers still drumming along the dark of her folded arm. And,mhh... deceptive arts, Con Artist. 'Mhmm. Did she blow it? Was it over for her now, her chance to start a new life...gone? She could only imagine, ferocious, buff school guards marching in single file, their threateningly matching suits beeing seen bursting through the door and surrounding her, ready to pick her up by the toes, tie rope through her nostrils and drag her kicking and screaming down the halls, finally pitching her out the front doors of the Academy. The oatmeal one arm cracking a sinister smile and peeking out the glass panes of the doors, saticefied that she had done her job. Goddamn, this malnutrition is getting to me. Rochi drew the dark shades of her eyelids over the inflamed, pale orbs that fought to remain open. They clenched tightly, attempting to produce any sort of relieving wetness, her brows furrowing slightly. Sucking in a good breath, she managed to sneak in some of the smoke that had flowed up from Twelve's previously burning cigarette, before she extinguished and demolished it along the desk. Relaxing... Opening again, her iced canaries found the gimpy office aide. Whew... this is like cardio for the brain A walking oxymoron. A card? She would get a card? Perfect, yet another thing to loose and get yelled at for 'misplacing'. Pictures, eh?.. Actually... Taking a step back, she swung a bicoloured arm to be near her mouth, wiggled alternately monochrome philangies in their cupped position, opened her dagger-lined mug and huffed a breath into her hand, which afterward she pretended to sniff. Resuming her former position by the desk, she supplied a short lived, crooked smirk and noded. Yep. Minty fresh.
Okkie perked her crème triangles and listened raptly as this Rochi spoke her part. The younger female seemed to be somewhat distracted as she spoke, not to mention nervous. Her illuminated eyes were wary, and her demeanor conveyed a cagey nature. The thill was once again reminded of herself, could see a distorted, rippled reflection in this female’s agitated façade. She wanted to mention this, wanted tell Rochi that she could feel something betwixt them, a sameness. But, then again, Okkie felt bonds to many, and she had always supposed it had something to do with supernatural factors of her past. Why did she think any different this time around? She had a tendency, a sensitivity, to others that could not be explained, and most of the time she just shrugged the sentiments off. And she would do the same with Rochi, even if it somehow felt a little different. Coming back to the matters at hand, the caramel pendragon was quiet for a few seconds, surveying Rochi absently. She then held up a finger, and swiveled squeakily in her chair. Slim digits slithered forth, and pressed a button on a speakerbox on the desktop. The line crackled, and then it went through, and Okkie could hear feminine voices, and papers rustling. She then cleared her throat, and pressed the button again, and this time, both she and Rochi could hear the loud beep that sounded on the other end. “Tollebum’ba, kyolp iyo glauta sall na fhekh vyjnt uja makattuji vyj u mafli jadetsajemd tsopams?” She spoke in terse Ramathian, lest Rochi, whom she assumed was only basic at best in the language, overhear. “Okkie, et shus iyo? Iyo fell maap sy huba sha tsopams vell yos u vyjn ym haj damajul tsusetsekt, emklopemd muna ump sjupat. Shyta uja em u tsukc ym sha kyjmaj patc. Ev sha tsopams et lyycemd vyj u pyjnesyji, iyo fell maap sy deba haj u hyotemd ugglekuseym. Fham iyo’ja pyma, qots tamp haj pyfm sha femd ump E fell gjykatt haj tsopams EP.” The voice was a rich, friendly one, and as Okkie paid strict attention, she thanked Fronima that this particular staff member thought no ill of her. In fact, Tollebum’ba was the only secretary that did not have any prejudice against the banded bandit. “Okkie, pep iyo hauj na? Qots py shus, ump E fell humpla shemdt vjyn shaja.” “Ah!, Tollebum’ba’http://shadowlack.com/forums/index.php?act=Glossary&show=14shu</a>.” And she thumbed the button again; the line went silent. There was another drawn-out moment of quietude as Okkie leaned forward on the cool desktop, her single elbow propped and her chin in her hand again. She could hear a gurgling, a bubbling, a brewing, and her oculars momentarily dropped to Rochi’s belly. She really was hungry, after all. But the office aide sincerely had no food on her, or she may have had pity and offered. As it was, the only thing she could do was try to wing through this process speedily, so that Rochi could get out faster, and find a bite to eat. “I have some forms for you to fill out. Which would you prefer to do first — general stats, or a housing app?”
OOC: I am so incredibly extremely absolutely and utterly sorry for making you wait this flippin long for a reply. But, I'm going to have to make you wait longer >.< I've just really not been feeling my best lately. You deserve decent replies, and I simply don't have the heart to make any right now >_< Family stuff is just getting in the way, my aunt was diagnosed with stomach cancer in the later stages, so we've been visiting her an awful lot. I'm very very sorry, and excuses are really lame, but thats the way this cookie crumbles. >_<; *grovels*
