“Ahhh, I’m booored!”
A whining voice could be heard in the training grounds, much to the chagrin of everyone there. It was the one and only Ishidou Aguri being Ishidou Aguri, being loud and bohemian. This time, she was training, but she was now tired… but she still wanted to train more despite her body telling her no. Though she wasn’t annoying on purpose, it didn’t stop people from having that sentiment, “Go do something else, then! Just don’t bother us!” Someone said, finally tired of her antics.
The girl puffed her cheeks, “What, do you get off on being an arsehole, or something!?” She exclaimed in a heated manner… but she wasn’t immune to negativity, and after a few moments, she threw up her arms and turned around, “Whatever! See if I care!” And ran off.
“What a bunch of twats…” She thought. She kind of really wanted a friend. Most of the people she met were big arseholes, and that’s excluding people outside the academy… but whatever. She was still in the academy, and she’d made a friend!... One single friend.
“Ah, whatevs. Kei’s cool, anyway.” That was at least one silver lining, even if she hadn’t managed to make a friend beyond her upperclassman. But still, she could always talk with Kei if she was lonely!... Unless she was busy. Ugh.
Lost in thought all alone as she was, she couldn’t see that she’d gone to a less trodden path of the academy, and nearly stepped on some… stuff. Nearly. “Oh, shi-!” She jumped over it and barely managed to avoid them.
“Mmmrgh!” However, in the process, she fell face first into the ground rather unceremoniously, skidding to a halt only a few seconds later. After getting fed a generous helping of grass, she stood up, holding her nose in pain and turning in anger at the things that got in her way. She didn’t expect what she saw, however. They were paintings.
“Huh…” She thought, seeing them. Some looked like sketches, but others were complete, and she had to admit they looked rather nice. She never really got art or any of the other things cultured folk appreciated, but now was as good a time as ever to try and understand… by staring at them and thinking hard. What did it take? What determined how good you were? What’s with all the different styles of painting?
In the end, she only gave herself a headache.
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Posts/Word Count/Total Word Count: 1/409/409
A whining voice could be heard in the training grounds, much to the chagrin of everyone there. It was the one and only Ishidou Aguri being Ishidou Aguri, being loud and bohemian. This time, she was training, but she was now tired… but she still wanted to train more despite her body telling her no. Though she wasn’t annoying on purpose, it didn’t stop people from having that sentiment, “Go do something else, then! Just don’t bother us!” Someone said, finally tired of her antics.
The girl puffed her cheeks, “What, do you get off on being an arsehole, or something!?” She exclaimed in a heated manner… but she wasn’t immune to negativity, and after a few moments, she threw up her arms and turned around, “Whatever! See if I care!” And ran off.
“What a bunch of twats…” She thought. She kind of really wanted a friend. Most of the people she met were big arseholes, and that’s excluding people outside the academy… but whatever. She was still in the academy, and she’d made a friend!... One single friend.
“Ah, whatevs. Kei’s cool, anyway.” That was at least one silver lining, even if she hadn’t managed to make a friend beyond her upperclassman. But still, she could always talk with Kei if she was lonely!... Unless she was busy. Ugh.
Lost in thought all alone as she was, she couldn’t see that she’d gone to a less trodden path of the academy, and nearly stepped on some… stuff. Nearly. “Oh, shi-!” She jumped over it and barely managed to avoid them.
“Mmmrgh!” However, in the process, she fell face first into the ground rather unceremoniously, skidding to a halt only a few seconds later. After getting fed a generous helping of grass, she stood up, holding her nose in pain and turning in anger at the things that got in her way. She didn’t expect what she saw, however. They were paintings.
“Huh…” She thought, seeing them. Some looked like sketches, but others were complete, and she had to admit they looked rather nice. She never really got art or any of the other things cultured folk appreciated, but now was as good a time as ever to try and understand… by staring at them and thinking hard. What did it take? What determined how good you were? What’s with all the different styles of painting?
In the end, she only gave herself a headache.
_________________________________________________________________________
Posts/Word Count/Total Word Count: 1/409/409