Post by Bianca Sabbato on Apr 29, 2020 9:21:03 GMT -5
I decided to tidy up my room just one more time... Making sure everything looked at least neat and clean before people could begin to arrive to discuss the matter of making the incoming inter school dance at least a tidbit more interesting...
Slightly tweaking the orientation of one of the sparse chairs I had acquired for this special occasion in particular, I gave myself a satisfied nod for the twentieth time as I readopted my previous position on the well-made bed and gave another look at my room altogether.
It was pretty spartan all things considered, close to the door were a nice wooden stand for Nereida and a wooden drawer to put my clothes in (Which were growing as bigger a collection than ever since the school started providing me with a healthy monthly allowance to cover any necessities that may arise during my time at Haven) With my violin case neatly laid on top of it along the binder with my music sheets.
On the other side of the room there was a small table with exactly one chair. The space that constituted both my study zone and where I performed my weapon’s regular maintenance, as attested by the wrenches and screwdrivers mixed in between with a healthy pile of books borrowed from the school library.
Digging my fingers in the black bed sheets, I was starting to feel nervous at the idea of people coming and seeing my room, my territory and what kinda could be judged as a reflection of my personality... And seeing how bare bones it was. A part of me was already feeling all sorts of regrets for not having this little council of mischievous youths to be held in a more neutral location. Standing up, I walked towards the books and gave a quick judgemental glance to the haunting titles laid bare in the covers. “7th grade math; World history illustrated; 5th grade chemistry, 5th grade physics, Principles to grimm anatomy, comparative anatomy...”
All in all, nothing impressive to show off, more like the complete opposite to be honest. To the point that I wondered if it would not be easier to just hide them or toss a blanket over them and be done with... But that would raise the question of why did I had a blanket covering the only real table in my room, and I already was going to have a difficult time explaining “The box”.
Yes... There was indeed a big as balls 2×2 wooden crate sitting ominously in a corner of the room. And of course, it was filled to the brim with dirt.
Now mind you, this was sterilized dirt used entirely for training purposes (And the occasional soil-mans I made when I was bored) and even if a little of it were to spill on the floor or any surface, I would be able to sense it and clean it at an almost instinctual level... Still, I was not giving faunus an easy time considering what some racist jerks could say about animals and sandboxes...
Shuddering, I banished those dreadful thoughts of my mind, traversing the bare wooden floor into the bathroom and giving myself a last check in the mirror before someone arrived.
I was looking pretty much normal in my opinion. I only possessed the most bare minimum of makeup and was currently wearing none of it. But as it was not really a special occasion of any sort I simply couldn’t be bothered. My clothing wasn’t anything special either, a plain gray t-shirt and some black biker shorts... Nothing to write home about.
Honestly, the only thing about my appearance that really was recipient of my pride and care was my long, thick mane of hair. As attested by the impressive assortment of hair care organic products I owned. After all I was not to be the girl who gave dreads a bad rep, so I had to take good care of those babies.
Come to think of it... Why did I care so much about those? They were hard to maintain, not really the most inconspicuous thing in the world and unsurprisingly an economic black hole that swallowed a good chunk of my monetary reserves even before coming to Haven.
-I wonder...-
Even after the whole music club debacle, I had already talked to the others about the spikening mission so it was already too late to go back least I had to admit there was indeed something bothering me regarding the bitchiness of a certain Holly Hooker... -Man... I really hope she’s not as dumb as to want to show up here...- Now THAT would be a weird turn of events and one I certainly was neither expecting nor really prepared to deal with, so I just exhaled loudly and hoped for the best.
There was a lot of things to organize in regard to the spikening of the punch, getting the booze was the easy part. Best case scenario was Slate or that guy Solomon getting it legally in any liquor store of cloud or wind district. But even if that was out of the question there was still other ways to get the good stuff if one was willing to walk the walk.
Stupidly, I started to wonder if Holly wouldn’t be able to produce some kind of homemade beer or wine with her semblance until a more mature part of me mentally slapped me out of it.
“Get your act together girl... Not everyone is going to like you here, so you cannot let something like that get you so down in the dumps”. Returning to my bed, I idly checked my scroll message box to see if someone was coming after all.
957/957 Words
