Post by iDream on Jul 26, 2010 23:14:06 GMT -5
[glow=pink,2,300]‘Omedetou!’[/glow] (Congratulations!)
The word was printed very carefully, and very neatly along with a smiley face and a ‘V’ in black ink on a white business card and taped to Dean Maddoxxx’s door. Io had been there earlier, leaving the note when she was assured no one was looking. She’d been giddy for what seemed to be hours before at his victory, similarly to school, when a girl would secretly leave a note of confession in a boy’s shoe locker (This is a pretty big custom in Japan, and pretty much the same as asking someone to go ‘steady’ without physically doing it, not that that’s the case here…ahem…).
She’d been wearing that grin for what seemed like hours afterwards as well, thinking about what she’d say if she’d actually had the opportunity to meet Dean. All sort of scenarios were dancing through her head, some good, some bad, but still good, because either way, she got to meet him. She spent plenty of time imagining the outcome of her playing it cool (assuming she was actually capable of that, which she probably wasn’t, which is why it just seemed more ridiculous than anything), being starstruck (which on the surface seemed much more likely than the former), and naturally being herself (which in the long run, when one considered reality, probably would have been the worst of the three, though definitely the most likely to happen. This daydream involved pounce/tackling him and something rather unnatural, like licking his face, or anything else that could be deemed inappropriate and absurd).
She’d lost her nerve before the show, leaving his room just minutes before he’d arrived and returning to her own, or whoever’s it was she’d commandeered anyway. It wasn’t the right time (well, anytime was actually the right time, but it wasn’t the perfect time. She’d wanted the time to be perfect, not right.), she wanted to be prepared, she wanted the moment to be special. Of course, it probably would’ve been beneficial to the process if she really had any clue what special would’ve been.
She’d pondered that idea for a few minutes before a commotion outside the door broke the silence, and consequently her concentration. Kenta had burst violently, frantically through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He was panting, like a dog that’d just run cross country through nothing but desert. He was covered in sweat and had a look of terror on his face that could only be achieved in the face of certain death. Actually, he’d spent the last hour crashing the Arena, after a week of casing it carefully (well, not entirely carefully…well, there’d actually been very little casing, and much more reckless, kamikaze abandon. He had however been running for an hour), and he’d finally managed to elude the various security guards roaming the halls.
“*Pant, Wheeze* (Ha…haha…I…) *Pant* (Finally made it…) *Wheeze*.” He was bent over, trying to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees. Io had peered upside down at him, over the arm of the couch, staring at him curiously. “(And where have you been? I’ve been waiting for days.)”
“(Where have I been…? You had me thrown out!)” He was upset, sure, but more hurt than angry. Shocking, considering selling him out was completely within Io’s realm of behavior. “(And what was the deal with the power? I know you had something to do with that…I hope you’re not getting into trouble…)” Slowly, he trudged to the other couch and flopped down into it. Seems he was warming up to the idea of the stolen room.
“(Moi? Trouble? What kind of girl do you take me for?)” She tried her best to look insulted, however, she was in a bit too good a mood to really pull it off. Of course, even the dumbest person in the world could see through her ploy. “(Io-chan…)” She wasn’t budging.
Kenta’s shoulders drooped as he sighed defeatedly. “(Fine, I believe you…)” She knew that the exact opposite was true, but the fact that he’d no longer pursue the issue was enough. The room fell to silence once more. Kenta was browsing his mind for the proper questions, and Io was half expecting a knock at the door (Only half because, well, for the obvious reason, she’d taken a dressing room that didn’t exactly belong to her, so, no one would’ve known she was in it, but at the same time, she knew what she’d done, even if no one else did, and she expected gratitude, or revenge, depending on who came looking first.).
“(Io-chan…are you sure what you’re doing is ok…? People could come looking for you.)” His usual sense of concern returned to his voice. More than that for Io, however, was the notion that he could be right. Possibly…probably… Technically speaking, she was one of only two people officially left off the roster, which, narrowed things down to a simple 50-50 split, assuming anyone really knew she existed that is. She was banking on the opposite, considering, well, she was a new hire for one, and generally new to the country for two. Of course, if anyone did figure it out, she still had the element of deniability. Who was she when compared with other names of the company, right? Then again, when one considered that, was there any reason to suspect her at all? She wasn’t big enough for anyone to really invest the time into her, but, she did have a rather bratty, overdevelopped sense of entitlement every now and again…the latter usually directed her actions (that and a general refusal to invest in conscious rational thought).
It was about time that the knight had a damsel to rescue. The thoughts washing over her head made her giddy once again. In a way it was two birds with one stone. She could meet her idol, and move forward with her plan. Perfect…
When she finally rose from her seat, she wore a different, deviant smile on her face. Slowly, she stepped toward Kenta in an uncharacteristically sultry way. Kenta never saw Io in that way, and it instantly made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sly or anything, no, but it was hard to view anyone who was darn near your sister in any other way (Io never really had this problem however, and saw all men as men…chances are, considering her tomboyishness, she never really saw herself too much as a girl either, well, except when she specifically needed to be). His nervousness only grew as she straddled his lap and leaned in close to his ear. Of course, all that faded with a ‘Click’.
Quickly, she hopped up off his lap, and strode to the door, leaving Kenta to thrash about and protest randomly in Japanese. Why? She’d handcuffed him to the sofa. Well, at least she didn’t have him thrown out this time, right? Girlishly, she spun about, with the door half opened, and offered him a small wave. “Bai Bai~ Kenta-kun.” With a giggle, she slipped outside and shut the door behind her, much to his distress.
Slowly, she made her way through the halls randomly, again, her arms folded behind her back, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. She was day dreaming again, though this time less so about dancing flowers, and more about a concrete plan. She was humming an unfamiliar tune to herself and smiling that new, devious smile. Her destination was no destination at all, this time around. She wasn’t looking to run into ‘him’, well, not yet anyway. She had this dance choreographed, and the order of steps was precise.
Oh the possibilities. As usual, she slipped into a daydream as she stepped about in those rubber uwabaki, and her dark, fall school uniform. In a way, she almost couldn’t wait for the next show, the next opportunity to move forward. She wasn’t going to get far without fans, after all (at least in her mind she required an audience), and she wasn’t going to get fans unless she could make an even bigger impression. By the time her feet carried her unwittingly to the door of a certain Dean Maddoxxx type person, she’d forgotten all about Kenta, (well, not completely, but the part where she’d handcuffed him to the sofa had actually slipped her mind) and whatever else it was she had planned for the day (in reality, she didn’t really have anything else planned). A soft, almost sinister, yet bubbly girlish giggle escaped her lips as she secured another note to Dean’s door, directly underneath the first.
[glow=Pink,2,300]'Dou Itashimashite' [/glow](You're welcome)
(I guess I forgot to put this here, on anything I do, feel free to comment, what you like what you don't, I'm open to anything constructive, or destructive if you're in one of those moods, or, if there's something in anything I post that you don't understand, feel free to ask about it, I'll do my best to explain so long as it doesn't give away any secrets >.> ...Ahem...)
The word was printed very carefully, and very neatly along with a smiley face and a ‘V’ in black ink on a white business card and taped to Dean Maddoxxx’s door. Io had been there earlier, leaving the note when she was assured no one was looking. She’d been giddy for what seemed to be hours before at his victory, similarly to school, when a girl would secretly leave a note of confession in a boy’s shoe locker (This is a pretty big custom in Japan, and pretty much the same as asking someone to go ‘steady’ without physically doing it, not that that’s the case here…ahem…).
She’d been wearing that grin for what seemed like hours afterwards as well, thinking about what she’d say if she’d actually had the opportunity to meet Dean. All sort of scenarios were dancing through her head, some good, some bad, but still good, because either way, she got to meet him. She spent plenty of time imagining the outcome of her playing it cool (assuming she was actually capable of that, which she probably wasn’t, which is why it just seemed more ridiculous than anything), being starstruck (which on the surface seemed much more likely than the former), and naturally being herself (which in the long run, when one considered reality, probably would have been the worst of the three, though definitely the most likely to happen. This daydream involved pounce/tackling him and something rather unnatural, like licking his face, or anything else that could be deemed inappropriate and absurd).
She’d lost her nerve before the show, leaving his room just minutes before he’d arrived and returning to her own, or whoever’s it was she’d commandeered anyway. It wasn’t the right time (well, anytime was actually the right time, but it wasn’t the perfect time. She’d wanted the time to be perfect, not right.), she wanted to be prepared, she wanted the moment to be special. Of course, it probably would’ve been beneficial to the process if she really had any clue what special would’ve been.
She’d pondered that idea for a few minutes before a commotion outside the door broke the silence, and consequently her concentration. Kenta had burst violently, frantically through the door and slammed it shut behind him. He was panting, like a dog that’d just run cross country through nothing but desert. He was covered in sweat and had a look of terror on his face that could only be achieved in the face of certain death. Actually, he’d spent the last hour crashing the Arena, after a week of casing it carefully (well, not entirely carefully…well, there’d actually been very little casing, and much more reckless, kamikaze abandon. He had however been running for an hour), and he’d finally managed to elude the various security guards roaming the halls.
“*Pant, Wheeze* (Ha…haha…I…) *Pant* (Finally made it…) *Wheeze*.” He was bent over, trying to catch his breath, his hands resting on his knees. Io had peered upside down at him, over the arm of the couch, staring at him curiously. “(And where have you been? I’ve been waiting for days.)”
“(Where have I been…? You had me thrown out!)” He was upset, sure, but more hurt than angry. Shocking, considering selling him out was completely within Io’s realm of behavior. “(And what was the deal with the power? I know you had something to do with that…I hope you’re not getting into trouble…)” Slowly, he trudged to the other couch and flopped down into it. Seems he was warming up to the idea of the stolen room.
“(Moi? Trouble? What kind of girl do you take me for?)” She tried her best to look insulted, however, she was in a bit too good a mood to really pull it off. Of course, even the dumbest person in the world could see through her ploy. “(Io-chan…)” She wasn’t budging.
Kenta’s shoulders drooped as he sighed defeatedly. “(Fine, I believe you…)” She knew that the exact opposite was true, but the fact that he’d no longer pursue the issue was enough. The room fell to silence once more. Kenta was browsing his mind for the proper questions, and Io was half expecting a knock at the door (Only half because, well, for the obvious reason, she’d taken a dressing room that didn’t exactly belong to her, so, no one would’ve known she was in it, but at the same time, she knew what she’d done, even if no one else did, and she expected gratitude, or revenge, depending on who came looking first.).
“(Io-chan…are you sure what you’re doing is ok…? People could come looking for you.)” His usual sense of concern returned to his voice. More than that for Io, however, was the notion that he could be right. Possibly…probably… Technically speaking, she was one of only two people officially left off the roster, which, narrowed things down to a simple 50-50 split, assuming anyone really knew she existed that is. She was banking on the opposite, considering, well, she was a new hire for one, and generally new to the country for two. Of course, if anyone did figure it out, she still had the element of deniability. Who was she when compared with other names of the company, right? Then again, when one considered that, was there any reason to suspect her at all? She wasn’t big enough for anyone to really invest the time into her, but, she did have a rather bratty, overdevelopped sense of entitlement every now and again…the latter usually directed her actions (that and a general refusal to invest in conscious rational thought).
It was about time that the knight had a damsel to rescue. The thoughts washing over her head made her giddy once again. In a way it was two birds with one stone. She could meet her idol, and move forward with her plan. Perfect…
When she finally rose from her seat, she wore a different, deviant smile on her face. Slowly, she stepped toward Kenta in an uncharacteristically sultry way. Kenta never saw Io in that way, and it instantly made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t sly or anything, no, but it was hard to view anyone who was darn near your sister in any other way (Io never really had this problem however, and saw all men as men…chances are, considering her tomboyishness, she never really saw herself too much as a girl either, well, except when she specifically needed to be). His nervousness only grew as she straddled his lap and leaned in close to his ear. Of course, all that faded with a ‘Click’.
Quickly, she hopped up off his lap, and strode to the door, leaving Kenta to thrash about and protest randomly in Japanese. Why? She’d handcuffed him to the sofa. Well, at least she didn’t have him thrown out this time, right? Girlishly, she spun about, with the door half opened, and offered him a small wave. “Bai Bai~ Kenta-kun.” With a giggle, she slipped outside and shut the door behind her, much to his distress.
Slowly, she made her way through the halls randomly, again, her arms folded behind her back, her eyes fixated on the ceiling. She was day dreaming again, though this time less so about dancing flowers, and more about a concrete plan. She was humming an unfamiliar tune to herself and smiling that new, devious smile. Her destination was no destination at all, this time around. She wasn’t looking to run into ‘him’, well, not yet anyway. She had this dance choreographed, and the order of steps was precise.
Oh the possibilities. As usual, she slipped into a daydream as she stepped about in those rubber uwabaki, and her dark, fall school uniform. In a way, she almost couldn’t wait for the next show, the next opportunity to move forward. She wasn’t going to get far without fans, after all (at least in her mind she required an audience), and she wasn’t going to get fans unless she could make an even bigger impression. By the time her feet carried her unwittingly to the door of a certain Dean Maddoxxx type person, she’d forgotten all about Kenta, (well, not completely, but the part where she’d handcuffed him to the sofa had actually slipped her mind) and whatever else it was she had planned for the day (in reality, she didn’t really have anything else planned). A soft, almost sinister, yet bubbly girlish giggle escaped her lips as she secured another note to Dean’s door, directly underneath the first.
[glow=Pink,2,300]'Dou Itashimashite' [/glow](You're welcome)
(I guess I forgot to put this here, on anything I do, feel free to comment, what you like what you don't, I'm open to anything constructive, or destructive if you're in one of those moods, or, if there's something in anything I post that you don't understand, feel free to ask about it, I'll do my best to explain so long as it doesn't give away any secrets >.> ...Ahem...)