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| Topic Started: May 30 2009, 06:31 PM (133 Views) | |
| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | May 30 2009, 06:31 PM Post #1 |
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Hey everyone~ This is where I will be posting random intros and bits of writing I have done so they are all together and not cluttering many boards. Please comment, if you're so kind. ^^ Thanks. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | May 30 2009, 06:43 PM Post #2 |
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Vanita, from Present Harry Potter. My made-up. - - - - - The young students of Hogwarts could not have wished for a more pleasant day. The magical school's grounds were dampened with jovial yellow sunlight, the witch and wizard students littering the corridors and grounds in earnest. Soft breezes blew the still air across the grassy grounds, the sky painted a perfect, harmonious blue in the gentle day's atmosphere; Today was just one of those days that staying in the common rooms was unheard of - if someone was inside they would be instantly pulled out by one of their friends in the early morning hours. There was no escape, or any need too, on that bright Saturday. Hogwarts had to be the most blissful place on Earth . Even though the student body found it calming, there was one lone Slytherin girl who found the atmosphere too lively. Vanita had never been in the fanclub of bright, sunny days; they were too hot for her tastes. Though, she didn't exactly prefer gloomy, overcasted ones. Today was just fine the way it was - not too cold or hot to stand in one of the drab outside corridors she currently lounged in. Her lean form confidently pressed against the cool stone walls, her face carrying the haughty emotion of boredom. The dark, sleek outline of regular black Hogwarts robes softly fell down her frame, and the serpentine crest of Slytherin was proudly stitched in plain view. on her chest Vainta liked the feel of the robes, even if they were slightly hot in the warm morning's wave of mild heat. They would have to do before anything else. Slowly, she moved her black eyes to gaze down each way of the corridor, but did not see anyone approaching to come near. It was not as if she stood there to snap at anyone if they so much as neared her - that was the assumption of most Slytherins - but she merely wanted to be alone and not have to deal with anyone bothering her. The area was quiet, if not described as tranquil, and she did not even want to return to the dungeons and Slytherin Common Room. From any of this one could discern that she was not a normal Slytherin, or at least one with more common sense than the normal puggy-faced crude Purebloods. No, she was perfectly her own kind of girl, a fourth year Pureblood who didn't what to make herself an idiot. With a petite hand she brushed back a couple strands of black hair just past her shoulders, closing her eyes to listen to the stillness of the quiet air. Hopefully this peace would last and she would not have to confront anyone today, whether they be Slytherin, teacher, or from another House. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:23 PM Post #3 |
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Notes: Here's a vampire intro I wrote the other night for a onexone. I know it looks small, but it's a full, short and sweet intro. It's my first time using a vampire character, so I'm not sure how it sounds. Basically he's in a random city, street, and alleyway. Nothing too special. Well, enjoy. - - - - - Night - it was still a pleasant experience and desire for what which had no true reason to exist, exciting in more than a casual sense, and yet dreary on some momentums. Darkness, and yet not that dark with all of those glittering pinpoints in the sky called stars. At some point they'd be nonexistant, blow out, or extinguish themselves dry into thousands of fireballs and die. Perhaps that wouldn't happen to him in the end, but it was something to ponder over at random moments. Fragile . . . so very /existant/. Nothing else much helped to essential a potentially friendly atmosphere - the area was pretty dark, but his eyes had more than adjusted to the unruly and sensitive lighting. Bryce Santi could easily swoop around in a misleading, yet casual, manuver and never cause any sort of uproar. At least, this is what he believed, shot up sandwiched between two dim buildings and in a narrow alleyway. 'Mm, even the stars could be a threat . . . even that gentle light could be very unfortunate,' he recited, perhaps even conceitedly. Not spotted or sensed, he nearly laughed at every logical reason he should have been, but instead kept quiet - he was cautious that way. Not a soul had appeared on this street for a while now, not that this time really mattered, he was constantly on the move. If Bryce could count how long he'd be been there, if been a little too long - ten minutes at the most. Stationed and crouched meekly behind couple of old, discarded cardboard boxes in the middle of the alleyway, deep, black eyes peered out onto the street, watching for a flicker of life to suddenly rustle. He entirely couldn't be deemed "meek" looking: in fact, it was the very opposite, but that didn't spoil a couple devilish features positioned on the man's face, not delierving a notice of being much older than thirty. A muscular, thin body could be said for the darting vampire, but treated over with a satin cloth very similar to a long-sleeved shirt that didn't match with the moonlight pale skin. Nothing bright about these colors could be said - pitch black from top to bottom of the jeans. In very brief instances it appeared like his eyes reflected like a candle were nearby, but then dimmed once more. His hair was much like that: not wild or shameful, but slicked back into a neat trail to the end of his neck, appearing silver-black with the eerie lack of anything to see by. 'I'm bored.' It was the first idea he'd thought to himself directly for most of the night, and the way he thought it was quite childish for how old he was, but strangely enough, he'd kept that light attitude in check. It was quite tiresome in the long-run, but worth it just to keep himself going. Gazing out over the woodwork again Bryce mentally sighed and began to prepare himself to move and leave. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:24 PM Post #4 |
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Posted by Sarah-chan on Jun 7, 2008, 7:41pm So, this board is an example and shows my first-time at writing a vampire intro. xD Give me the criticism I need. Posted by tobi on Jun 7, 2008, 9:05pm Well, I just read it again, and it seemed very well-written. I give you an A+, and a cookie. :3 Posted by Sarah-chan on Jun 10, 2008, 1:50am Thank you. -steals the cookie- Now, how was it well-written? o_o Posted by Basset on Jul 19, 2008, 8:08pm IT IS HORRIBLE! Just kidding. I liked it, very nicely written. You didn't just put "Bob's hair was black. He had black eyes. He wore black clothes." You actually incorporated his image into the intro, not making it stand out or anything like that. Posted by Sarah-chan on Aug 1, 2008, 4:10am I try not to do that because it's boring. It's better to fix things in then just add them. If that made any sense to anyone but me. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:25 PM Post #5 |
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For the smallest, strangest reason she could not identify, the world was a cruel place. For months she had not seen the young adult that stood before her at that very moment, but all of a sudden he was right there. No one else had those large, forest green eyes, or that short crop of brown hair that kissed the top his eyes, nearly falling into the incentive stare he possessed. By some chance, some insignificant way, one of her old friends - well, if you could truly call them friends - was wandering through the forest and had turned down the path she had been strolling down. Sarah merely blinked at the young male standing before her on the tiny snake-like dirt trail, shifting her foot slightly; the tip of her weather-worn white and purple shoes hit the dust with little regard for their appearance. Most people in the world would be happy to see old acquaintances, but a frown lined the curve of her thin lips, not either pleased nor disappointed. "Joshua," she murmured, a slight soft, yet curious accent coating her voice; she kept her deep brown eyes astray from his figure. The male furrowed an eyebrow at her in response, his own expression corresponding the one she had on, but mild amusement touched the facial feature in a more interesting way. Sarah tilted her eyes towards him after a moment, catching the sight of his eyes. Daylight sounds were the only things to penetrate the otherwise silent conversation; the flowery fragrance of a patch of flowers nearby made the forest seem even more alive along with the wild rustles and scratches of random Pokémon roaming throughout the patches of grass and trees. She stared from his head to his feet, taking in one of the more normal sets of clothes she had seen him wear in ages. A slow smile accented her mouth, one of a light place of amusement in itself. "Did you have fun stealing that?" A cream-colored hoodie hung around the thin frame of Joshua, a pair of pants that were the same color also a part of his wardrobe. The hood was pulled over his head even though it really did not need to be, but he liked it that way. Black lines hosted in neat lines down the sides of his arms and legs, a wide, black belt fastened around his waist. One lone red and white Poké Ball was strapped in front, his only and prized Pokémon inside. Joshua rolled his eyes at her observantness, waving one of his dark leather-gloved hands. "Honestly, Sarah, I've told you. Stop calling me Joshua. I'm done with my full name," the eighteen-year-old scolded playfully, the same accent she had in his own tone, though slightly deeper. He gestured to her own clothing, trying to make his own point. "Look at you. Where did you steal that from?" he inquired, a slight smirk playing in his own tone. "For your information," the fifteen-year-old girl shot back, a bit more flare coming to her voice, "I got a job and paid for this. Unlike you." Both of them normally just traveled around so they didn't have as much money as they could, but Sarah couldn't in all respects blame him. He had been involved with a job, but had decided to quit - at least, this was a half correct and unsure decision on his part, but Josh would make his own choices without any aid. Sarah peered down at herself, seeing the clothes she had gotten at a little corner shop in some random city a couple weeks before. All it consisted of were a soft purple shirt and black jeans to fit her requirements of comfortable articles of clothes, no fancy printings or markings on them, but they already appeared like they'd been used by the wandering girl. Nothing too plain, but nothing too expensive. Locks of long, flowing brown hair fell her waist, a narrow, black belt pulled around it, six Poké Balls clicked to their respective spots. She shifted a purple and white backpack hanging off her shoulder, just realizing he wasn't carrying anything. "Do you have a campsite?" Josh shifted his head in the direction of another little path a small ways behind her. "Yes. You probably want to make me give you some of my food, though." Well, she couldn't disagree - she was kind of hungry. The last time she had eaten was at at the nearby town's Pokémon Center. "Which you stole," she accused, sighing. "But I'll forgive you if it's a ham sandwich." Though he did have the habit of taking things that weren't his, Josh wasn't a bad person. He was actually a little too kind sometimes, albeit that he had his own little quirks of oddness. Josh shrugged at her request in acceptance, suddenly walking past her; the crunching of dirt below his thick, dark boots distinguished him from all of the other forest noises. "We can catch up on old things that don't really matter," he suggested lightheartedly. Sarah turned and followed after him to the path as he continued towards it, finding the double meaning to his tone unpleasantly appealing. Like she would want to really talk about past affiars, but it had a nice ring to it. She really had nothing else to do today, and by night they would part, anyway. That in itself was understood between both of them. "Fine," she muttered, vaguely wondering about what they still could talk about that wasn't too difficult or would sound too cheesy. Sunlight fell on two's faces after every couple steps, the rays shining through the canopies of the trees above. Josh didn't turn back at look at her, and neither did they speak as they walked. Josh briefly wondered why they had to meet in all the places of the Earth as this forest, but there wasn't much else that could be done about it. The world seemed to have its own mind when it wanted people to meet. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:27 PM Post #6 |
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Warning: There are possible spoilers to a place further in Moon Forest in this post, so read it at your own risk. Ah, here's a plot I made. Six in the afternoon has dawned upon the landscape, and people are flooding into the area. The sun is going down while the full moon comes out in the distance. A town called Tsaine County in a region called Moon Forest is hosting a festival called "Rituale Lunariol Eslipar," or known better to the general public as "Lunar Eclipse Festival." It's set once a year in summer on a full moon night, and traditional legend says that if the moon is pleased with the ritual that there will be a spectacular eclipse between the earth and moon that everyone celebrating will witness before dawn. It's a very huge gathering placed in the middle of a large park called Tsaine's Memorial that has many nature objects inside. The festival is for all things related to Pokémon, harvest, nature, people, and a ritual to the moon that most people in this region celebrate. It's a lively, very well-known and is open to the public even if they don't celebrate the moon. Every corner of the park is packed with contests, food, dancing, singing, and traditional events. The activities only happen for the whole night, so it's very important to get there early. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:28 PM Post #7 |
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It was a little town - a place the daily news was not delivered to on a regular basis. That was alright with him, on any level - a low profile was his kind of lifestyle each day. It was the game that followed him from when the sun arose to its fateful fall at the end of all the tiredless hours, seethed in a shower of bloody red light. The notion proved odd on several accounts for someone brandishing the vicious title of assassin, but he was an odd fellow no matter how one would throw the gambling dice; and there were a lot of gamblers, as fair and decieving as the lands spread. And it was no less daylight. He preferred the stillness and mystery of the quiet blackness of night when the stars hovered above so far away, but this would have to do for traveling purposes. Slowly, he traced his eyes over the fragile homes and buildings of the little establishment, taking in their surly designs with a critical eye. He'd taken his time in entering the city and appearing as casual as possible, not attempting to alert any of the common folk to the weather-worn man's presence. The town seemed nice enough to have a rest-stop at until the morning; he needed some pleasant, simple pleasures in life that the smaller societies could provide every now and then that the hussle and bustle of the larger cities lacked. Didn't he, though as cold-blooded as he'd been described in previous jobs, at least deserve that much? He needed a couple supplies and It didn't matter to him, at any rate. Somehow he'd managed to push himself from the outskirt of the town into one of the busy districts. The commers walked hurriedly on the streets next to him, carts pulled by sworking horses endlessly. Now to find somewhere interesting, he thought to himself, slightly bored. Yet again he gazed with intent black eyes, pacing down the side of the street off-handedly. Zeal didn't appear any less normal than any other passerby that they got, so the amount of wondering stares were zero. A long, soft material fell from his shoulders to ankles in the form of a simple robe, a black material fastened around his waist to keep it snug. A heavy black traveling cloak just hung over it, making him appear. Simplistic - nothing showy, nothing that was too odd. All that was odd was the weaponary scraped underneath the cloak. An assortment of various knives were attached to the silky fabric's interior, each finely tuned to a deadly point. Each had corresponding names to fit their deathly sharp edges, but the one that was the most prominent was the sword straped to the the belt. It was long, curved to a dangerous degree, the hilt encrusted with a single red jewel to its middle; The Transparent Sin. Zeal had been called many things beyond the lands that knew of his crime sprees, but among the most common for his widely know n attire was The White and Black Devil. However, all the nineteen-year-old assassin was as he walked along aimlessly was just another ragged face in the crowd. Edited by Super Professor Sarah-nyan, Jun 17 2009, 03:05 PM.
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:29 PM Post #8 |
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Basically, in this one, my first character is looking another boy. And my second one wants to tell her hunting partner that both the other two boys are gone, but she's kind of shy. - - - - - The cool night air should have been able to soothe the rising annoyance flowing throughout his veins, but it proved fruitless to pepper down the mounting temper. In all particularness he was known for his fiery outbursts that would flare out of sync every so often, only matching the extreme heat produced by an inferno burning down a forest. If there was one little trademark to his personality that anyone could catch it was that he did not have the patience to wait around until the very last second. That was just something he couldn't stand, and neither did he try to bribe himself into acting like trivial matters did not upset him. That was probably the reason he was in the forest alone without any aide to accompany him - his hunting party member was late and he had decided an hour or so ago he was fed-up with bidding his time until the man's return. The soft breezes that whispered through the tree limbs also blew his hair to the side, telling him he was being foolish and should to return to the pub they were staying at, but he stubbornly refused his better judgement. Where is he? he mentally chided, now heavily exasperated that he could not find the older man. How he liked to make them wait just went too far sometimes - he probably had fun making him irritated the most. Zeal's pitch black eyes gnawed at the woodwork and thorny grass for an answer, but no matter where he looked over the darkened trees and ferns did he see a hair of the man he was searching for. In fact, he was slightly lost himself; he had just wondered into the forest and plunged into the undergrowth of the wood, not on one of the paths carved out, and did not have an exact idea of where he was. His instinct remined him of how idiotic of a move that was, but he had a positve sense of where he was going, in any cae. One of the things that made his searching worse was his attire. Though it was pretty standard he still was cold in the choice of clothes and it frustrated him. Locks of his smooth, black hair were pulled into a small black cloth material, draping nearly down to his shoulders. He had thrown on a black cloak which fell pretty much to his feet, underneath this a padded shirt and breeches. A pair of heavy leather gloves fit around his hands, at least giving him some warmth. The shuffle of fallen tree leaves and twigs undernearth his leather boots irated the little level of patience he still harvested to its max. Maybe he had even wandered off to find those mustard-colored wolves they were supposed to hunt; Zeal at least believed that the proud man would certainly try to take care of them on his own, if not sooner. If the wolves were as bloodthirsty and vicious as these elders proposed then they might as well get the job done straight away instead of lumbering around like lazy sacks of potatoes. A cease of a frown lengthened over the muscles in his cheeks and jawline, emphasizing his displeasure. Fluke could have returned to the pub after he had left, but he highly doubted it. If he's got himself into trouble he's paying me back, he thought hotly, sharply turning his eyes away from a stream of moonlight pouring between two tree branches. Still, Zeal was highly aware he was at an icreased risk just being out there all by himself, but that's what stubbornness brought him; a hot-headed excuse to wander by his own will. He turned his attention to his left now, still trying to find another pathway to walk down instead of trudge through the undergrowth. - - - - - Though she thought the night was a quiet, yet chilling time of the day, she still believed it was too early - or late, however you observed it - to be awake. Such early hours of the night weren't her strong suit, and as the night dwindled away she had the most profound feeling that they weren't going to get any progress done in those pitch hours still left. Zeal had even found it upon himself to skip off and try to track the missing Fluke down, though she had proposed against it, and by now could be anywhere. At times like this she wished she was a bit more strict with the her words and beliefs, but what had been done was over. Lightly, she scanned the rentable room she was in with uncertainity, taking in the scaled walls and little amount of furniture. A petite hand rested on the doorknob to the room, keeping the little bronze structure turned halfway. A debate was going in on her mind whether she should leave or not to tell the other huntress in their group that the other hot-blooded male was gone, but she couldn't decide if she should at this point or not. Lyra opened the door a little to peer outside, the hinges creaking a little in the process. She directed one of her light brown eyes to the crack made, letting the little light hit her eyes. Lyra timidly scanned over to where she could spot the pub's main gathering location the best, slightly unnerved. There was no question in her mind that the elders of this place waiting for them to leave thought she was the weakest link among the four hunters they had entrusted for the job: though, she could hardly blame them. It wasn't as if she appeared too fragile or meek, but she did possess a lighter, more childish voice with a distinctive half-lisp than her fellow comrades lacked. Even though her skin had a certain creamy flavor that indicated its health, and her facial bones a tad touch of feminineness, she still had the muscle to say she was a hunter. Nothing too much, but enough to tell she had a powerful grip. Somehow she had wrapped particularly bushy strands of sandy-colored hair into a bun, but a couple of the lone hairs escaped. A tunic-like garment adorned her frame to slightly below the hips, the material softer than most, yet padded with leather for protection. Wool covered her legs until the hem of the tip of leather boots; coarse black animal fur ringed the top of it, adding some effect of some kill she had made. All around she had the skill, just not the true appearance. The other huntress to their party was probably waiting at one of the tables in the main part of the pub. Lyra mentally sighed to herself, disinheartenedly assuming both of the two males still were wandering somewhere else if she hadn't been alerted to a return. She guessed that there would be an even wider gap in their time to begin the hunt - maybe dawn would afterall pierce the heavens and skies before they even returned. That would leave them there for another day to wait for the night to once again blanket the forest so they could catch their targets. Lyra wasn't too fond of the idea since she would have rather move on by this point, but there wasn't much she could do about it. Slightly ashamed she hadn't stopped Zeal from leaving earlier, she wondered if she should just shut the door before someone noticed her there or go tell Axxalis that both of them were now missing. Slowly, she inhaled with light percision, choosing the latter. Lyra gingerly began to open the door to the little room, stepping out; she might as well go tell her. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:29 PM Post #9 |
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Light-chan is angry because there's another Kira causing trouble for him. - - - - - I just need a moment to think, that's all. Just a moment to hide . . . no, go take a break. Yes. It's gotten me all out of shape, but it can be fixed. Everything can be fixed. A God has been with me so far, and they'll stay with me for this. They will be caught, and I'll wipe thier existance off the map. Nothing could have said how Light was doing these days; he couldn't quite commit to it himself. The shock, the horror, the bad publicity for him. Kira. Ruining his reputition, and destroying his infamous cause of justice to those who need to be punished with their evil methods. He'd figured it out already; it was another Death Note user, but who? Ryuk hadn't helped. Oh, no, not Ryuk. He wouldn't help unless it was for a scratch of an apple, but not even a bucket-full could help solve this. The shinigami wouldn't open his mouth, it was the fun of seeing him look for the clues himself. Being fustrated at night, hearing random talk on the campus - and apparently spread that far - that Kira's ways were worsening. Even /failing/. Of course, Light couldn't be brought into it - no, he was the genius. Althletic, and nice. When it was brought up, he couldn't help but help listen and comment - avoiding suspicion was still a must in these tight conditions, and he wouldn't crack. "Hey, Light, how's it going?" a voice came from behind him. A hand clasped on his shoulder, and a friendly boy's face appeared next to him. He peered over, realizing a dazed, quite unLight-like expression on his face, and smiled fakely. But how it always worked was a masterpiece. The sky was nice above, the open air around him, just happening to be near the entrance to a classroom hallway nearby. "Doing good. Quite loaded, though," he replied, rushed for words. It wasn't in his best interests to talk to a classmate of his at the second; he was a nice guy, but there were more inportant matters to jumble over. He lightly shuffled a dark backpack on his back he'd grown accustomed to carry, along with his precious friend inside. Paranoid, that's what Light was. With the knowledge L had been on the campus at all . . . well, maybe it was a mistake, but it couldn't be helped. He needed it with him, then he was more in control. The boy laughed and slapped him on the shoulder. Gesturing over to a group of other boys walking over, he asked, "We're all there with you, man. Want to come and-" "You know," Light said, forcing a constrainted laugh, "I'm really tired. I think I might-" Light considered his options for a split minute. Maybe it'd look like he was walking to the dorms from here? Sort of, maybe. He mulled over it for one second, and clicked it into words - "go sleep a while before my next class. See you all later, all right?" He turned and started in a random direction, gazing over his shoulder. How simple it was. "Suit yourself," the boy returned cheerfully, completely untouched by the unnoticed coolness of his classmate's action. He waved merrily, turned away, and went with the other boys. They turned off and left while he watched for a moment. Light couldn't see the connection between him and the group, anyway. He just couldn't. 'Anyway, back on the matter on-hand,' Light proposed, losing his edge instantly. He gazed forward again, letting the sun land on his hair. The warmth, the feel . . . what a blissful inquire. It was a sign from his favorited God. Everything would be alright in the end, but still, mentally, he was at breaking. He could barely comfort himself, but somehow he had succeeded thus far. 'Now, they've been mass killing in the Kento region. We know that. But now. . . ." More thoughts whizzed in his mind as he aimlessly moved around, probably opened the door inside and went in, he barely noticed, and passed other groups of people, being recognized and talked to regularly. He eventually left it all and found a hallway that was sem-crowded, full of classrooms. Turning down, he walked slowly down the way, gazing in randomly the charted windows and lazily as he should have been; at least, he should have been. In reality, he was hawk-eyeing for any prowlers. Something began to poke at him that he couldn't resist . . . Maybe he was slipping. No, not him. Not Light Yagami. |
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| Super Professor Sarah-nyan | Jun 17 2009, 02:30 PM Post #10 |
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The plot for this is the one I posted a couple posts above. - - - - - "Mm! Grape flavored," Syroana murmured, sampling a small taste of a particularly large, purple snow cone in her hand. Noise buzzed around her in the form of chatting voices and beating, pounding instruments, while a small ringing noise emitted very faintly in her mist. In the blood-rushing atmosphere people passed in high spirits and she couldn't help but be cheerful; a burst of happiness fluidly possessed her whole bloodstream and circulated. It was a night of celebration and people gathering to welcome harvest and the moon - those were the only practices she even cared to engulf herself with every year. This year she had even proceeded to endure an even larger task; she was going to try and tack her luck at a karaoke competition. Currently, she stood in the middle of a group of food stalls, shouldering her way to a mass of large tents on the other side of Tsaine Memorial. 'The tent was supposed to be mint green,' she recited mentally, grasping the cone's white paper in her hand while scanning various poled-up tent heads. 'At least, that's what the invitation says.' Syroana favored her choice of colorful attires, and the seventeen year old, but strangely child-like girl's, seemed to blend quite smoothly. Absentmindedly, she swung around a cornflower-colored scarf with a silver nail polished hand, lavender frills at the bottom swishing lightly in a sweeping warm summer breeze. She didn't need it in the least case scenario, but it could've occurred to her to be a crime if it wasn't there. A large, blue ribbon held up Brunette hair in the back, while soft layers tucked behind her ears and fell down her shoulders and back, a couple of loose bangs and top of her head strangely looked to be dyed black. Two tiny silver bells softly swung from the sides of the ribbon, the small chimes lingering in the bustling air behind. Silver charm bracelets silently glittered from her right wrist above a digital sunset-colored watch and on her left ankle in the feverently blazing horizon sunset and stall lights, a random assortment of charms in many shapes and sizes attached. Short-sleeved, but presentably to be warm, a pink blouse turned to a cherry as it got near the bottom hung on her frame. Cut slightly at the side and neck for little flaps, a black shirt could be see below with a collar. Attached to it, cloth of flare pastel colors hung halfway to her knee reflecting a tradition sort of appearance and butterfly effect. A belt rested right below - except with no Poké Balls, but a large case clasped to the side with electronics inside. "Nene~. Syroana barely can see the stars and moon," she muttered in the breezy and curious Moon Forest accent, slate gray eyes peering in antsy anticipation to catch a glimpse, shouldering around a path. Her smile lit up once a green tent with a large white sign on top popped up in front of her reading "Karaoke Competition." A mass of people stood outside signing some sort of rooster at a desk. Reaching into a black jean pocket she dug with silk pink-palmed and powder blue-tipped fingerless gloves in search of her ticket. "Found it!" Looking to the side, she found the end of the line, and began to slowly walk over with scraps of black dress shoes and ease. One thing was for certain: everything about her said she was a resident of the area - perhaps not the area in general, but Moon Forest. |
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