welcome
Welcome delinquents to PHS #552. A few reminders, no rough housing, no running in the hallways, no cheating, and no talking back to your teachers. Beyond that, enjoy yourselves. After all these are the years you’ll look back on, and remember, you mother fuckers peaked too early.
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credits
Public Highschool #552 was rebooted by Xereon and Aether. Content is copyrighted to PHS #552 unless otherwise stated. The skin is created by Wolf of Gangnam Style. The board and thread remodel is by Kagney and has been heavily edited. Banner Image Credit. Chatbox Credit
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NEW RP DISCORD SERVER. CONTACT "Shugo Yuy#5730" ON DISCORD FOR INFO. |
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COME IN COME ALL AND WATCH THE SPECTACULAR STUDENTS FROM PUBLIC HIGH SCHOOL 552 AS THEY PIT AGAINST EACH OTHER IN BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN! Watch as students go toe to toe on this little tournament with an unbelievable budget allocation! See them bite each other in arena made of LEGOS! Make each other bleed in an artificial JUNGLE!, even go as far as making them break bones under an artificial STORM! Really, HOW BIG IS THE BUDGET ON THIS SHIT! SO PLACE OUR BETS AND GO WATCH BAREKNUCKLE BEATDOWN NOW!
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A brand new group is on the making, The Apostles, a Pillar-like group led by none other than our brand new headmaster, Gregoire Girard. A student body that would lead students and enforce the law on this little school of ours. Little is still known about this student body, but who knows? It might just be what the school needs.
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A lunch box is seen last Friday, around 12:37:08pm with an encouraging note packed inside. This appalling display that utterly lacked manliness has left many students stunned and outrage, as some decided, after a long while, to speak out against it.
Full Story Here.
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Insult to Injury {Open to One}
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 23, 2015 12:22:39 GMT -5
Despite her disdain for PHS (and this city, for that matter) and having been caught in the first place and forced to attend, Katsumi dutifully attended, counting the days until graduation. Soon enough, the senior would graduate and she would be able to slip away as she had intended, before her father’s mistakes caught up with her. It wouldn’t be too difficult. If anything it would be easier, as she would only solely have to focus on surviving, instead of both that and schooling, which now took up most of her time.
The disguised young woman walked along the streets, heading towards the school, keeping her head down and her hood up. Hands were stuffed into her hoodie’s front pocket, and Katsumi was nearly at that forsaken cesspool called a school. Her awareness was sharp as ever, catching the sounds of the cars passing by and those few strolling along the streets, most on the other side (for who but the students and teachers went towards PHS?). Nothing was out of the ordinary, and when Katsumi heard a bicycle nearing from behind, she side-stepped to give it room. Naturally, she glanced back, finding a young man who was speeding along almost dangerously. While his driving was reckless, she didn't think much more of it and kept on. But as he grew closer, Katsumi furrowed her brows. Was he steering towards her and leaning over...?
Even with her swift reflexes, there wasn't time to react. Chocolate hues widened sharply as she heard a thump and shortly afterwards felt a sharp pain in her side. As he went forward, laughter rang out, and the petite figure glanced down and saw a knife protruding from her side. Katsumi staggered, gritting her teeth, and, furrowing her brows, she instinctively slipped out three of her throwing knives and flung them at the man on the bicycle. As she fell onto one knee, she saw from under her hood that the knives had, in fact, hit their intended target, but he continued speeding away. But that was hardly her concern. At least not now. Not at this very moment.
"Shit," she hissed.
The blackness of the hoodie seemed to deepen and droplets of blood fell onto the concrete sidewalk. Katsumi clutched to her side and grimaced. She was too far from her apartment to stitch herself up there and, while always carrying some supplies, the cross-dressing girl didn't have everything necessary. PHS was only a two minute walk away, and so Katsumi forced herself up, staggering towards her intended destination. She tried to keep attention away from her, standing as straight as she possibly could, hands and arm hiding the blade still embedded within her. Blood continued to fall, feeling her vision blur as more and more was lost, and yet she pushed on. There was no way in hell Katsumi was going to the nurse, as her identity would be discovered. Add that to the fact that her lack of trust ran deep and she had been tending to her own injuries, many quite severe, since she was a young girl.
But she would need alcohol, and so, while the nurse was out, Katsumi slipped inside and grabbed what she needed. Sneaking away, the girl traveled to the gym and crawled under the bleachers, a spot she often came to. Biting down on her lip, Katsumi removed the knife. As it clattered to the ground, she lifted up her shirt just enough to show the injury and the roguish woman applied pressure with towels she had stolen. A few minutes passed and she closed her eyes, pouring over the alcohol. Through the pain, Katsumi remained silent, her body tensing and only her breathing growing louder. Once again, the girl applied pressured and bit down on her lip.
The bell rang, and Katsumi was certain she would miss at least a couple of periods. But she hardly cared, needing to tend to her injuries first. And it wasn't as though she had missed any classes as of yet (so hopefully no crazy bastards would come after her for skipping. Most students probably did, anyway, right?). After stitching herself up and getting some rest, Katsumi would go to the rest of her classes, as if nothing happened, making sure not to strain her injuries. That was the plan, anyway. |
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Mar 23, 2015 13:59:30 GMT -5
Steven would enter the gym, knowing that today there was no lesson for first period here. This meant he would be able to avoid his lesson. Philosophy, Steven had really not got on with the new teacher Relic. He felt like the teacher wasn't the best for his job. That was unfair for Steven to think, but it was just the way the smart young man was.
Steven would be heading toward the far corner of the room, when something would catch his eye. there was blood. Not a lot a few drop here and there that had dripped from the women he didn't know was there. He would crouch down and examine the blood. It was fresh. Steven would look closer. It was hard to see but he would be able to see the fractionally small tail the blood drop had to tell the direction the person it had come from when it had fallen, then he would follow the trail in that direction.
Steven came to the bleaches and looked under it, seeing the 'boy' shirt half up treating a wound in their side. Steven eye would dart to the knife on the floor beside her and put together what had happened. Anger and concern would swell up inside him and Steven would rush to 'his' side.
"You removed the knife are you nuts?"
Steven would say knocking the knife away, as he crouched down at the boys side. Steven had been stabbed before, he knew how to treat wounds like them. A penetrative injury, you do not remove unless you have something to stitch it up. Steven would then notice that they had actually done so.
"Seriously you should go to the infirmary. Why on earth are you trying to treat yourself?"
He asked and then would move as if to pick the guy up carefully, and take them to the infirmary by force.
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 23, 2015 16:31:01 GMT -5
It would take some time before Katsumi could stitch herself up. She would need to wait until the blood flow at least slowed, and, with the knife just freshly pulled out, that could take a while. But she continued applying pressure and Katsumi knew she would be fine. She had had countless nasty injuries over her life. Treating herself was like second nature.
Katsumi furrowed her brows upon seeing something move in to her peripheral vision, and she turned her head, staring at the man from under her hood. The disguised woman frowned.
'Fuck,' she internally grumbled in Japanese.
Attempting to move onto her other side so as not to face him, the rogue hoped her body language would clearly tell him to leave her alone. But he rushed under the bleachers towards her, and Katsumi slipped her free hand into her pocket, unsheathing her tanto but keeping it hidden. Chocolate hues narrowed, her gaze glowering at the other person.
She hated to speak, preferring for students to believe she could not speak any English, but it was obvious that it was necessary. He would not leave otherwise. Her Japanese accent quite heavy, from both the strain and through practice here, Katsumi said slowly in a false tenor, "I'm... fine..."
The other reached towards her, in an attempt to pick her up and take her to the infirmary, and by instinct the rogue swatted his hand away. The cloth on her side fell without the pressure, and Katsumi brought it back to her wound. Despite feeling woozy due to blood loss, eyelids fluttering momentarily, Katsumi swallowed hard and revealed her tanto, pointing the blade at him with her other hand. Her accent grew heavier, voice deeper, and it shook as she spoke, the tone as dark as her scathing eyes, "Don't. Touch me."
She didn't want to necessarily hurt him, but Katsumi was adverse to his touch. Or anyone's, for that matter. It made the rogue uneasy that he was so close, and there was the deep seated fear that his touch would lead to more injury, beatings, and lashing, and more stabbings. It shook her to her very core and shone within her dark eyes as she glared at the other man. Coupled with the fear of being found out, from either this man or from going to the infirmary, her stance couldn't have been clearer. She was not to be moved, or to be touched. By him or anybody.
Katsumi stared at him for some time before inevitably looking away, (out of habit and from pain) glancing up and closing her her eyes. The knife still remained in her hand, resting against her stomach but the blade pointed at him. She licked her lips and sniffled once.
"Saito can... take care of himself. Go," she remarked slowly, but sharply. The tone was not as ominous (or fearful) as before, but it was clear her stance was the same and she had not softened up or changed her mind. Her English became broken and accent remained heavy, fulfilling her farce that she didn't speak English (or much, anyway) but also due to weariness. Katsumi added quietly, opening her eyes and staring at the back of the bleachers, away from him, "Not your injury." |
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Mar 23, 2015 17:10:24 GMT -5
As the Tanto came out, Steven would stagger backward fast and slam his back into the wall, as well as his head. Sliding down the wall his eyes filled with fear he would stare at the blade in 'his' hand's. Steven would glance at the other blade, the one that had been used to hurt her already but his hand wouldn't go for it. Saito's word were ignored due to Steven's own fear.
"Put it away... Put it away."
His tone would not hide his fear in the slightest. The desperation to not have a blade held so close to him. His body would shake, and the concern he had been showing would seem to dissappear. That was until his eyes glanced down and saw that the cloth she had been using to keep the pressure on the wound had fallen away. Steven would force himself to calm, however would still be shaking and would not move because to leave he would have to get closer to her with the blade. Taking a deep breath he would talk his voice still nervous.
"Look you've obviously been stabbed. What you've done to fix it is a stop gap."
Steven would look over to the blade that had been used to stab her.
"By the length of the blade you will be bleeding internally. Unless you get that stitched up, you will bleed out into your own body. You need medical attention and you will need it soon."
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 23, 2015 17:44:29 GMT -5
If she had a sense of humour, Katsumi would have laughed at the level of fear the other man harbored when she drew out the knife. His reaction was almost comical, considering the blade hadn't even been all that close to him and she was injured. But instead she simply blinked and quirked a brow. If he was that terrified, the rogue didn't need to be too worried. At least for.
Giving one last warning and another stare, "Then don't (touch me)," Katsumi inhaled and put the blade back into her pocket, keeping it unsheathed just in case.
After gaining courage, the man spoke and the woman quietly listened. While she wasn't aware of all of the terminology, the rogue knew all of this. She was fully capable of tending to her own wounds, having been forced to do so for so many years. And she never had help from anyone in the medical field. On rare instances when they were truly severe enough and she was unable to tend to them, her father or a relative of his might have ensured she would at least survive. The rest was always left to her. Katsumi wasn't going to let herself bleed to death. She simply had to wait before stitching herself up. There was too much blood flow now.
"I. Know," said Katsumi with a hint of irritation as she sighed. She continued on with the heavy accent and broken English, although she was calmer now and it was purely for show at this point. Speaking at all was irritating, but especially like this.
"I... take care of. First, pressure. Then, stitches," she reached into her bookbag, rifling through it until she pulled out a pack of sterilized needles, waving it so that he could see and to emphasize her point.
Her tone was less harsh now, making an attempt to reassure him, "I'll... be fine. .... O-kay?"
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Mar 23, 2015 17:53:51 GMT -5
Steven would piece together the broken English as best he could. In order to get her intention, however when she pulled the needles out, he started wondering why she had them. It was hard to go stealing something like that when you were bleeding out, but why would someone walk around with them either. It didn't make sense to him. However while Saito seemed to be confident in 'his' ability. Steven would not be. He had no knowledge of the past, so he would refuse to leave still.
"Then rest, I will watch over you just in case."
Steven would then push the other knife over the floor towards 'him' so it wouldn't be near Steven at all. 'He' was already armed and having the knife would do nothing. Though to be honest Steven would probably be able to out run 'him' anyway the state she was in.
"Your armed, I won't even risk getting close to you. However if anyone else finds you laying here they mess be less caring then I."
He would refuse to move, and backed away from 'he'. With her not really in a state to get up and make him, there would not be much 'he' could do to get rid of the unwanted protector.
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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“
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 23, 2015 18:37:21 GMT -5
Lips formed in a tight line, chocolate hues stared intently at this other man as he spoke. So he wouldn't leave then? Katsumi wasn't all that afraid, not as she normally was. He didn't seem to hold any intention of harming her. And so his presence only proved to confuse the girl, who furrowed her brows. Not since the death of her mother had Katsumi had a protector other than herself. She pushed away the thoughts of her mother to avoid unnecessary sorrow, swallowing and look down at her wound, avoiding his eyes.
Instead of speaking, after a long pause, she simply nodded. Katsumi looked over at the bloodied knife and wrinkled her nose, using a foot to kick it away in disdain. That fucking man on the bicycle. What the hell was the point of randomly shanking a passerby? Katsumi was used to cruel people, but he was a complete stranger, and the act only proved to irritate her. Later, after healing, Katsumi would have to track the fucker down and, if the injuries she inflicted upon him didn't end his life already, then she would. If he would hurt her, he would hurt others, and for no reason at all. Despite her background and simply looking out for herself all in the name of survival, it didn't rest well with Katsumi to let him go. In concern out of others and for herself. Who knew if the stranger might try and come back for her?
"Bastard..." she growled to herself, peeking under the cloth to see how the blood flow was. It still needed a while longer and Katsumi gave a silent groan, switching out the cloth for a clean one before leaning her head back and closing her eyes. She focused on her breathing and sat silently for a couple of minutes before the other's action with the came to mind. Opening her eyes, Katsumi peered over at him and inquired softly, words slow, unsure, the girl not used to conversation and wary about asking questions, "No weapon?"
It would be strange, indeed, for someone to attend this cesspool and not carry something to defend themselves. This school consisted of some of the most dangerous youth in the world, after all. So why had he reacted the way he had? Wasn't he dangerous too, at least to some degree?
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Mar 23, 2015 19:28:19 GMT -5
When 'he' asked him if Steven had any weapons. Steven would have been about to say no. He didn't carry a weapon, but he stopped himself. He wanted the 'boy' to be at the greatest ease that they could be. That meant Steven would remove the normal trick from his pocket. The small can of deodorant and the lighter. He would toss them to where her feet lay. Making it clear he wasn't tossing them at her.
"There unless your worried about a pen."
Steven asked trying to lift the mood slightly, he would pull out a note book and pencil. Not a pen like he had said and open the note pad. If he was going to be here he might as well get some sort of work done while watching over 'him'
Steven would start to write occasionally look back over to the other kid. If 'he' didn't speak Steven would simply make notes about the person. The knife that had been used to stab her and the mannerisms she had. He would go out of his way later to try and find out who had stabbed her. Because anyone who stabbed another was someone Steven would want to teach a lesson.
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 24, 2015 9:00:12 GMT -5
So, this fellow was that type of ranged fighter, huh? Katsumi raised her brows. She supposed it made more sense now why he was afraid of the blade. He was range, and didn't seem to handle other types of weapons. Katsumi wasn't really one to use fire or explosives, as they drew too much attention, but she nodded in understanding. This method would be good for short term, and was great for distraction and keeping enemies away. She preferred staying further back with her bow and having blades on her person just in case, but Katsumi could see why someone would prefer the other type.
The humour was lost on Katsumi, but the rogue understood the comment to be friendly at least. He pulled out a notebook and began writing in it, and so the disguised female stayed silent. Time passed, and Katsumi checked on her wound. While it still bled, it had slowed enough to where she could tend to it. Releasing a soft sigh, the assassin used the alcohol to clean her hands and removed a sterilized needle, threading it. She then proceeded to stitch the wound. At most, the sound of her breathing grew a hair of a fraction louder and Katsumi's body tensed in the slightest, but she repeatedly pierced her flesh and closed the wound in utter silence. It was not a display of strength or character, but something she had to learn and was now habit. Making noise had brought attention to her, and that often meant more injuries to deal with.
Using her knife to cut the thread upon finishing, the senior released a huff of breath and stared straight ahead, at the underside of the bleacher seats. She hated being vulnerable again, particularly in the presence of a male, having an inevitable taste of fear. Yet there was a semblance of odd comfort. Hopefully his expressed intentions were true, Katsumi having both reason to doubt, due to her background, and reason to believe, considering his actions thus far.
Lids fluttered as exhaustion swept over her, and Katsumi shook her head. She simply couldn't fall asleep! And so the rogue slowly straightened her posture, careful not to strain her wound, and her shadowed gaze moved over to the person beside her. Despite, even now, being fearful of speaking, she needed something to do and to keep her awake, and this man, despite what her traumatized psyche might expect, was not father. He was not going to shower the woman with further injuries. He hadn't thus far, anyway.
"Notebook," Katsumi nodded in the direction of that which was in his hands. She continued with accented and broken English, although her tone was slightly more relaxed than before, and certainly not ominous or threatening as it had been. "What you write? ... If... Saito may..."
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Mar 24, 2015 20:42:34 GMT -5
Steven raised a eyebrow at her asking for the notebook. Not entirely sure what to do. There was other stuff in the book he wouldn't just want to hand over. Even the notes he was making about details, of 'his' attack could probably give the wrong impression. Steven would nonchalantly add a few more words before tearing the page from the book and folding it a couple times and tossing it to her. Unfolding the note she would see the following notes.
'Stabbing victim, unknown year, under 5ft. Due to location found, must have been injured in nearby area. Understands self medication, implying some sort of reason in his past for needing such knowledge. Carries a knife Tanto, implying Japanese descent, with possible gang related issues. Knife used to stab them, of a western design instead meaning it could be anyone.
Investigate CCTV images in local area and find responsible party.'
He would look at 'him' trying to read the reaction they made. Looking into CCTV would not be as easy as his note implied, but Shou would help out in that regard. It wasn't strictly legal, but taking a attempted murder off the streets if they could would work. Even if it meant tackling someone willing to use a knife, not especially if it did. He didn't care that Saito seemed to carry one as well. He had no knowledge that 'he' had used it, beyond carrying it for protection. However he would comment on this.
"Also knives are bad, maybe being hurt will convince you carrying them, I don't know if you know but a large number of stabbing related deaths are done with a knife brought by the victim. Be careful all someone will gut you with that thing."
Steven would explain, his voice honest and calm. He knew that the last part of the statement could come across as a threat, but he hoped the previous concern shown would counter that fact.
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Mar 31, 2015 21:25:44 GMT -5
Thinking he would read it aloud, she hadn't expected for the other to simply rip out the page and throw it to her, and so Katsumi blinked in surprise and caught the paper. Chocolate hues scanned the contents of his notes. So they were about her? It was a report, in fact, and her brows furrowed a bit. Why on earth did he care enough to make one? How could her condition and the scenario possibly concern him, or anyone else but her for that matter? No one had really cared about Katsumi since her mother's death, and that was so long ago. All she suffered was indifference or abuse, and so she was inevitably taken aback.
Sliding it back over to him, Katsumi stayed silent for several moments, hands resting in her lap, before deciding to speak up, shaking her head at the end, "Senior. No gang."
She was wary of interacting with others and accepting help, simply because it was never given to her. If, for whatever reason, this man wanted to get involved and help, why should she stop him? Katsumi certainly didn't want to get attacked again and had planned on finding her attacker on her own. His aid certainly couldn't hinder her, so the least Katsumi could do was tell the little bit she knew. While she would still speak in her masculine, heavily accented tone with broken English, she would give him what he needed. Although she would give the bare minimum about herself.
A hand rested on her flattened chest, and Katsumi continued slowly, "I am alone. He..." Katsumi paused, furrowing her brows. With a sigh, she shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "Hiroshi doesn't know. Perhaps could be... initiation? Something? He could be gang. Young enough. Or alone. Not sure."
She thought back on the event and the laughter echoed within her mind. Katsumi stiffened, gaze dropping, and her fingers clenched at the fabric of her dark, boy's uniform pants. A hint of bitterness showed in the tone of her voice, which seemed to tighten, "But... he liked it. Laughed. It was... fun for him."
At least when her father beat her, it was out of rage and not enjoyment. That kind of sadistic behavior perhaps disturbed Katsumi most of all. She could work at not making others mad. But there was nothing she could do to ease sadism. Katsumi hadn't interacted with many people in her lifetime, beyond the killing of targets, but being in her field resulted in coming across others who were in that same line of work. On those rare occasions, the rogue had come across a couple of individuals who didn't do the work because they had to or in order to survive. No, they enjoyed making others suffer, in taking lives.
Despite her father's horrible behavior towards her and his loss of love, he didn't necessarily wish for her to die. He didn't relish in the pain he caused her. Instead, he was oblivious to it, perhaps even blocking it out (she was not sure), and, most of all, lost control. There was still some semblance of care, even if it was only a shadow of a shadow. A few times, he gave advice beyond that of training, and he had warned her about those types and to never involve herself with them. It was particularly crucial for those inherently cruel persons to never find out her true identity. They may just try to kill her, or it could be so, so much worse. For him of all people to show concern and to make such a claim, it left an impact. She was afraid of those types, more so than everyone else. Even without his warning, she had seen some of their carnage, and it was on an entirely different level from her father and her. And so to be the recipient of the one of those kind's cruelty, for her suffering to amuse him... it stirred anger within her belly.
Inhaling deeply to calm herself, Katsumi swallowed and bit down on her lip. Giving a heavy sigh, she went on to explain the culprit, "Didn't get good look... but knives hit. Three."
At least she had hit the bastard. It wasn't enough to stop him, but it would leave wounds, scars. Katsumi would find him, and he would never hurt her again. Ever. She would be sure of it. Never again would Katsumi simply lay down and allow herself to be abused, whether out of someone's else amusement or rage. They may be able to do it once, but no more than that.
She pulled out one of her remaining throwing knives to show it to the other man. Katsumi then continued, "In his back. He kept going, but I hit. Going to take while to heal, if not danger now."
Closing her eyes, Katsumi leaned her head back. Speaking as much as she did was almost more exhausting then the wound itself, or certainly added to it. She wasn't used to speaking at all, let alone to this extent. Yet she remembered one more things and the lids of her eyes fluttered open, adding, "Oh, bike. He was on bike."
The other man went on to give Katsumi a warning about weapons, and her lips formed into a straight, firm line. She was almost annoyed. Who was he to tell her that? He didn't know shit about her, or her past. If he did, then he would know she had to carry weapons, and certainly knew how to use them. She had used them on many occasions, and had taken lives and defended her own. Her blades and her skills were her tools of survival.
Stiffening, the rogue narrowed her eyes and pulled her hood further down, an arm crossing over her chest. Katsumi didn't particularly wish to speak, never one to argue (or talk) out of fear, but she could not help but murmur, voice an irritated grumble, "Hiroshi is careful..." |
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Apr 2, 2015 18:39:19 GMT -5
Steven would absorb the information given to him. Hiroshi, he didn't know enough about Japanese but he could at least recognise it and it matched his face at least. The fact that the attacker had also been injured was also a good one. It meant that Steven could instead look into places were someone could possibly go to recover, like hospital. That would narrow down his chances of finding them, and if he did, he would find out their side to the story, and why they had attacked Hiroshi. Though one fact would jump out at him.
"Motor or push bike?"
Steven asked, he knew of a gang that that one could hint at. It was biased of him to ask, but he did so anyway. Even if it wasn't them, motorcycle gangs were easier to track down then others.
"Look, my name is Rosett. I'll help you find this guy, track him down and take him to the police. I don't want you running off alone and getting hurt again."
'Or killing them in revenge.' He mentally added to himself. The fact she had pulled
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user is offline ●
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“Even death has a heart.”
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ferya
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No Group
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Post by Katsumi Shinomori on Apr 14, 2015 0:38:58 GMT -5
(Forewarning: Katsumi gets pissy. >.>)
He inquired about the bike and Katsumi blinked. Her brows furrowed a little, stumped momentarily with the terminology, and she replied, shaking her head at first, "Ah... no motor. Push then."
Motorcycle would have been easier in some regards. She could have gotten a license plate, or something. Katsumi didn't know much about bicycles, and it had seemed pretty standard to her. And so she sighed, "Harder to track..."
Rosett went on to say he would help her, and she was already apprehensive, but a tad appreciative. But as he went on and mentioned the police and treating her like a child, Katsumi tensed and narrowed her eyes. She was on edge and glared at Steven, sharply shaking her head, "No police."
There were many reasons she wasn't willing to go to the police, but something about how this boy acted... it irritated her. She had survived because of her perseverance. She had endured hunger, abuse, violent training, and so much through sheer willpower. And now she was surviving by herself, having defended her life from the man who had inflicted so much on her. So to have person tell her he didn't want her running off and getting hurt, it struck a nerve and offended the otherwise impassive and nervous girl, rather deeply.
Gritting her teeth, she hissed lowly, enunciating the words to make her point, "Fuck off."
Katsumi wanted to leave, she wanted to get herself away from this guy, from everyone. She just wanted to be by herself. Putting away her things, Katsumi growled, "You... can do what you want, but... Hiroshi won't get get involved if police involved."
Her tone seemed to grow angrier, and her voice shook, "And... And I can fucking take care of my own self."
Zipping up her bag, Katsumi forced herself to move, getting onto her knees, despite her wound moaning in protest. While her hood was still up, her eyes were visible, and her offense shimmered within the hues. She shouldn't have been moving, but Katsumi couldn't stand to be there any longer. She didn't care if she was going to get in trouble for skipping class anymore. Katsumi just wanted to go home. What was originally just going to be a couple of classes would be the whole day. The rogue was done and, despite not having gotten any real rest, she would push herself to leave. Or she would damn well try.
"Get.. Get out of way, Rosett-san. I'm l-leaving." |
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user is offline ●
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Never say anything that doesn't improve on silence.
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Head of The Like-Minded
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The Like-Minded
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Post by Steven Rosett on Apr 14, 2015 13:33:33 GMT -5
Steven would not be too surprised to Hiroshi reaction to the mention of police. There were many people who had reasons not to want to have anything to do with the police. Sometimes it was fear about what people may do to them if it was discovered, other it was just contempt for the police, and other beyond that didn't want it because they were worried that to police were after them as well and as such wanted some form of separation.
When Hiroshi moved to leave, Steven would at first move to block 'him' from leaving. Only to demand that he get out of the way. Steven knew that he couldn't force the guy to lay down and continue to rest without using physical force. Something that had a chance of in the long run causing more harm then good, because he would resist. Steven took a step aside to let him leave however Steven would speak as he did so.
"Go home and rest, this school isn't the place to walk around in your state. I never said you couldn't look after yourself but help is help. Take it or leave it, I at least offered."
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