Varon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
last_to_kneel) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-05-03 01:53 am
last_to_kneel) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-05-03 01:53 am
Entry tags:
◊11th Ride◊ Alien Youth
A: 773 Bunker Street
[Varon sighs as he grabs his books for school. It's not a dejected sigh but rather a sigh of frustration. He really isn't looking forward to getting fitted for a suit. He's been listening to the others in his class talk about it with excitement. This wasn't something that he could get excited about. He looks at the tickets in his wallet and shakes his head with his eyes cast up the ceiling.
He knows his not!father is a chaperone. That isn't the problem. His reputation is going to be blown sky high in a grand explosion of probably being laughed at for his dancing ability, something that he had to learn as an assassin and another useless skill that his former employer made him learn. He hopes that his not!father thinks that he needs lessons...which might be inevitable.
He quickly closes his wallet and shoves it in his back pocket in a hurry. Out of sight, out of mind. He grabs the car keys and walks out the door. His nerves are so high on edge he skips breakfast and hopes to dodge the inquisition.]
B: Mayfield High
[The same conversations he hears over and over again fall on deaf ears. He's at his locker and he's doing his best to ignore the drone girls swooning and hoping that he would ask them to the prom.
Varon rolls his eyes while he scans his books. The same questions follow him.]
Do you have a date? I would like to go with you.
Not gonna happen.
[He slams the locker closed and walks away.]
C: After School at the tailors
[Varon sits in the waiting area with a newspaper covering his face and torso. He isn't looking forward to this at all. He hopes that his name is overlooked and he could go home with the excuse that they didn't have his name on their list.
It's not that he's unfamiliar with it, it's just the opposite. Back home, he had to be fitted for suits, but it's not one of his favorite things. If it isn't for Fujino, he would have left a long time ago and forget the whole thing.
The dreaded moment arrives and his name is called...]
D: Back to 773 Bunker Street (evening)
[He enters the house and places the keys on the hook. He didn't bother to pick up the phone this time. He walks straight into his room and closes the door to hang up the suit.]
This sucks.
[Varon sighs as he grabs his books for school. It's not a dejected sigh but rather a sigh of frustration. He really isn't looking forward to getting fitted for a suit. He's been listening to the others in his class talk about it with excitement. This wasn't something that he could get excited about. He looks at the tickets in his wallet and shakes his head with his eyes cast up the ceiling.
He knows his not!father is a chaperone. That isn't the problem. His reputation is going to be blown sky high in a grand explosion of probably being laughed at for his dancing ability, something that he had to learn as an assassin and another useless skill that his former employer made him learn. He hopes that his not!father thinks that he needs lessons...which might be inevitable.
He quickly closes his wallet and shoves it in his back pocket in a hurry. Out of sight, out of mind. He grabs the car keys and walks out the door. His nerves are so high on edge he skips breakfast and hopes to dodge the inquisition.]
B: Mayfield High
[The same conversations he hears over and over again fall on deaf ears. He's at his locker and he's doing his best to ignore the drone girls swooning and hoping that he would ask them to the prom.
Varon rolls his eyes while he scans his books. The same questions follow him.]
Do you have a date? I would like to go with you.
Not gonna happen.
[He slams the locker closed and walks away.]
C: After School at the tailors
[Varon sits in the waiting area with a newspaper covering his face and torso. He isn't looking forward to this at all. He hopes that his name is overlooked and he could go home with the excuse that they didn't have his name on their list.
It's not that he's unfamiliar with it, it's just the opposite. Back home, he had to be fitted for suits, but it's not one of his favorite things. If it isn't for Fujino, he would have left a long time ago and forget the whole thing.
The dreaded moment arrives and his name is called...]
D: Back to 773 Bunker Street (evening)
[He enters the house and places the keys on the hook. He didn't bother to pick up the phone this time. He walks straight into his room and closes the door to hang up the suit.]
This sucks.
no subject
[A beat]
...pun really not intended.
no subject
[And now he's got to think about the corsage. He'll go to the florist to pick the design and have it ready for pick-up the day of the dance so the flowers wouldn't die.]
Guess this means I gotta get a haircut.
[He puts his hand on the top of his head.]
Or maybe I'll just pull it back in a pony.