Post by Jon Lafayette on May 3, 2019 5:36:48 GMT
“Hey, have y’all seen Aphrodite?”
The trio of students sitting around the common room turned simultaneously to look at the short, green haired teenage perched atop the couch as if they’d been there for the last hour. Two exchanged annoyed glances before turning back to their coursework in hand while the third laughed in polite confusion.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Aphro-,” Jon paused before closing their eyes, adjusting their schoolbag they had slung over a shoulder and muttered quietly. “What the shitbricks was her name, Chris, Chee, Marth… Chryssa!” They tried to snap their fingers and winced before shaking the limb out. Jon had stripped their jacket and tied it around their waist in a double knot, not about to lose it for the tenth time during their trek. They had pushed both sleeves of their white button up shirt to mid forearm, the wrinkled folds masking the tell tale sign of red speckles. The crisp, clean bandage on their right arm encircled their forearm and subsequently tattoo, hiding it away from scandalized eyes. Their left hand had three simple band aids dancing a zigzag pattern across their fingers. They’d already peeled off a fourth and was on the way to picking off the rest and losing them. They had a matching one near their hairline above their left brow but that had been artfully hidden by their dreadlocks. The ensuing headache, however, couldn’t be quelled by a fashionable hairdo.
“Chryssa?” The third student with bubblegum pink hair asked tentatively.
“Yeah,” Jon replied, distracted by a loose edge of one of their band aids and tried not to pick at it. “You know, Chryssa. This tall,” they gestured to a vague height way above their head. “Pretty, like super pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you go nice.” They clicked their tongue. “Kinda ditzy in a cute way, probably with like a thousand yard stare.”
“Um, no. I don’t think I know her. Sorry?”
“Eh,” Jon waved away the apology and groaned before climbing back to their feet. They tugged at their knee, pulling the fabric from the joint of their prosthetic and straightened. “Thanks anyway my dudes.” And gave another wave over their shoulder as they traipsed down the closest hallway.
“Do they even go here?” The yellow pixy haired girl watched the student vanish around a corner, not entirely sure if they’d ever seen them.
Pink shrugged his shoulders before going back to his work. “They had the uniform.”
Jon checked off the first year dorms off their rapidly growing list of checks and gloomily mumbled several choice words, slipping around a group of students talking in the hall as they debated on where to go next. They’d checked their floor, the second years, the cafeteria twice, though the second time was to grab a soda, the courtyards, the damn USJ because maybe Aphrodite was crazy and nearly got suckered into going a round with some second years. The ruins zone did sound fun though, but they were already nursing an idiotic injury through no fault but their own from earlier. It’d have already been healed if they hit up one UA’s many medical staff, but after their stint with Psycho Cure, Jon would have had to be hogtied and dragged back there. They corroded a medical side table to a rusty pile last time and by the power of god and anime, they’d do it again.
They could try the cafeteria again, maybe around the vending machine that had little chocolate snack cakes. Mmm, chocolate snack cakes. The temptation was too much to ignore and hey, maybe third time would be the charm. Ignoring the sullen twinge above their left eye, they debated if they had some basic over the counter analgesics shoved in their schoolbag somewhere. But that would require looking through that bottomless pit of trash, random folders, their actual coursework, and whatever else they shoved in it. They found a handful of raisins once in a side pocket when they were pretty sure they’d been grapes at one point or another. Still tasted good.
Making their way back to the cafeteria, they passed by the library entryway for the sixth time since they’d been on their mission and slowed down. One could almost hear the grind of gears in their mind as a weak, sad, pitiful idea weaseled forth to throw a wrench into the cogwheel. Why would anyone want to be in the library? They thought, watching several students filter in and out. If I were a smarty know it all cave dweller, where would I like to hide away? Jon refrained from slapping their forehead, though they felt the sentiment as they turned on their heel and slipped into the forbidden zone.
It was like a whole other world of silence. Eerie, gut wrenching silence. Jon could hear themselves walking across the floor, the subtle crunch of carpet underfoot their favorite green sneakers. They half expected the librarian to float on by, looking stricken with gout or some other old timey sickness, clutching a book from the seventeen hundreds and looking absolutely haunted. That, of course, wasn’t the case and reflexively returned the smile directed at them from the head librarian as they checked out a couple of students with books. Jon glanced around, strolling carefully from end to the other, vigilantly on the look out until they spotted them. How odd, how someone so normal, stood out amongst many.
“Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, there you are!” Jon yelled across the library and immediately got several dirty looks and a half dozen shushes. They disregarded most of them but returned one particular nasty one with a quick flip of a middle finger and a silent raspberry as they walked by. They found their victim, er classmate, and there was no stopping their warpath to her. Jon weaved around a couple of tables, nearly climbing over a chair in their haste to catch up to Chryssa and head them off. In case she decided to bolt. So many did and Jon couldn’t, read sarcastically, understand why.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Aphrodite.” Jon exhaled dramatically as if they’d been running around and leaned against the nearest table, “You are one hard person to track down.”
The trio of students sitting around the common room turned simultaneously to look at the short, green haired teenage perched atop the couch as if they’d been there for the last hour. Two exchanged annoyed glances before turning back to their coursework in hand while the third laughed in polite confusion.
“I’m sorry, who?”
“Aphro-,” Jon paused before closing their eyes, adjusting their schoolbag they had slung over a shoulder and muttered quietly. “What the shitbricks was her name, Chris, Chee, Marth… Chryssa!” They tried to snap their fingers and winced before shaking the limb out. Jon had stripped their jacket and tied it around their waist in a double knot, not about to lose it for the tenth time during their trek. They had pushed both sleeves of their white button up shirt to mid forearm, the wrinkled folds masking the tell tale sign of red speckles. The crisp, clean bandage on their right arm encircled their forearm and subsequently tattoo, hiding it away from scandalized eyes. Their left hand had three simple band aids dancing a zigzag pattern across their fingers. They’d already peeled off a fourth and was on the way to picking off the rest and losing them. They had a matching one near their hairline above their left brow but that had been artfully hidden by their dreadlocks. The ensuing headache, however, couldn’t be quelled by a fashionable hairdo.
“Chryssa?” The third student with bubblegum pink hair asked tentatively.
“Yeah,” Jon replied, distracted by a loose edge of one of their band aids and tried not to pick at it. “You know, Chryssa. This tall,” they gestured to a vague height way above their head. “Pretty, like super pretty, the kind of pretty that makes you go nice.” They clicked their tongue. “Kinda ditzy in a cute way, probably with like a thousand yard stare.”
“Um, no. I don’t think I know her. Sorry?”
“Eh,” Jon waved away the apology and groaned before climbing back to their feet. They tugged at their knee, pulling the fabric from the joint of their prosthetic and straightened. “Thanks anyway my dudes.” And gave another wave over their shoulder as they traipsed down the closest hallway.
“Do they even go here?” The yellow pixy haired girl watched the student vanish around a corner, not entirely sure if they’d ever seen them.
Pink shrugged his shoulders before going back to his work. “They had the uniform.”
Jon checked off the first year dorms off their rapidly growing list of checks and gloomily mumbled several choice words, slipping around a group of students talking in the hall as they debated on where to go next. They’d checked their floor, the second years, the cafeteria twice, though the second time was to grab a soda, the courtyards, the damn USJ because maybe Aphrodite was crazy and nearly got suckered into going a round with some second years. The ruins zone did sound fun though, but they were already nursing an idiotic injury through no fault but their own from earlier. It’d have already been healed if they hit up one UA’s many medical staff, but after their stint with Psycho Cure, Jon would have had to be hogtied and dragged back there. They corroded a medical side table to a rusty pile last time and by the power of god and anime, they’d do it again.
They could try the cafeteria again, maybe around the vending machine that had little chocolate snack cakes. Mmm, chocolate snack cakes. The temptation was too much to ignore and hey, maybe third time would be the charm. Ignoring the sullen twinge above their left eye, they debated if they had some basic over the counter analgesics shoved in their schoolbag somewhere. But that would require looking through that bottomless pit of trash, random folders, their actual coursework, and whatever else they shoved in it. They found a handful of raisins once in a side pocket when they were pretty sure they’d been grapes at one point or another. Still tasted good.
Making their way back to the cafeteria, they passed by the library entryway for the sixth time since they’d been on their mission and slowed down. One could almost hear the grind of gears in their mind as a weak, sad, pitiful idea weaseled forth to throw a wrench into the cogwheel. Why would anyone want to be in the library? They thought, watching several students filter in and out. If I were a smarty know it all cave dweller, where would I like to hide away? Jon refrained from slapping their forehead, though they felt the sentiment as they turned on their heel and slipped into the forbidden zone.
It was like a whole other world of silence. Eerie, gut wrenching silence. Jon could hear themselves walking across the floor, the subtle crunch of carpet underfoot their favorite green sneakers. They half expected the librarian to float on by, looking stricken with gout or some other old timey sickness, clutching a book from the seventeen hundreds and looking absolutely haunted. That, of course, wasn’t the case and reflexively returned the smile directed at them from the head librarian as they checked out a couple of students with books. Jon glanced around, strolling carefully from end to the other, vigilantly on the look out until they spotted them. How odd, how someone so normal, stood out amongst many.
“Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, there you are!” Jon yelled across the library and immediately got several dirty looks and a half dozen shushes. They disregarded most of them but returned one particular nasty one with a quick flip of a middle finger and a silent raspberry as they walked by. They found their victim, er classmate, and there was no stopping their warpath to her. Jon weaved around a couple of tables, nearly climbing over a chair in their haste to catch up to Chryssa and head them off. In case she decided to bolt. So many did and Jon couldn’t, read sarcastically, understand why.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Aphrodite.” Jon exhaled dramatically as if they’d been running around and leaned against the nearest table, “You are one hard person to track down.”