testrun_box | (no subject)

[1] Really, Nanami had forgotten how dull the initial stages of her stay at Rakuen had been. No one had accepted their roles yet; no one was developed enough to be a threat. She wasn't needed at all. She could barely recall seeing the original head prefects in those first weeks. It was odd, because she must have encountered them, seeing her the way she saw the newcomers now. Weeds, everywhere, and she was held back, sheathed, unable to stamp them out. She sighed, a quiet, graceful noise, and leant back into the cushions of her armchair. Her tea, steaming, sloshed slightly as she rested the mug on the sidetable.

It wasn't a sword's job to tell the weeds from the saplings, after all. Was it? No, she would sit, and wait, and bide her time. The mayor would tell her when to move. And if she took some time out of her day every morning to sit in front of her tower, and place a hand on the larger handprint against the pale block, well. That was her business. He wasn't here any longer. And she was still alive.

"It's such a bother," she murmured to herself, lifting her mug again. Uncaring about whether she was overheard. "I really don't enjoy this job."

[2] [ The girl standing before you is neat, diminutive, graceful. Pale. A good breeze would probably knock her over. But she's smiling slightly, hands clasped in front of her, and she's watching you exit the train with the absent intensity of a surveillance camera.

Whilst she sounds polite, there's not an ounce of meaning behind her words. ]

Good morning, and welcome to Rakuen.