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 Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 6:30 am
xxxx☪ o1 ☪ RP Directory Postxxxx☪ o2 ☪ Entry Codingxxxx☪ o3 ☪ Journal Entryxxxx☪ o4 ☪ PRPxxxx☪ o5 ☪ Journal Entry
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Posted: Tue Mar 30, 2010 7:21 am
 ☪ MAYU POSTS/TALKS IN ☪Size 10 Font/#39366F_.:[JOURNAL POSTINGS]:._☪ RP LOG CODING ☪[color=white]xxxx[/color][color=#f74d6b][size=12]☪[/size][/color] [color=#39366f][size=10][b]#[/b][/size][/color] [color=#f74d6b][size=12]☪[/size][/color] [color=#39366f][size=10]RP Directory Post[/size][/color]☪ JOURNAL ENTRY POST ☪[align=right][img]http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx269/GaiaO5/RP Characters/LunGraphics/lunsmalljournalent.jpg[/img][/align]☪ PRIVATE RP POST ☪[align=right][img]http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx269/GaiaO5/RP Characters/LunGraphics/lunsmallprivaterp.jpg[/img][/align]☪ OPEN RP POST ☪[align=right][img]http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx269/GaiaO5/RP Characters/LunGraphics/lunsmallopenrp.jpg[/img][/align]☪ GROUP RP POST ☪[align=right][img]http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx269/GaiaO5/RP Characters/LunGraphics/lunsmallgrouprp.jpg[/img][/align]☪ METAPLOT ENTRY POST ☪[align=right][img]http://i762.photobucket.com/albums/xx269/GaiaO5/RP Characters/LunGraphics/lunsmallmetaplot.jpg[/img][/align]
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Posted: Tue May 11, 2010 1:31 pm
Thinking on the koi, she glanced out the window situated above her desk, giving her a good view of the back yard and the pond there. While the sun had set some hours ago, candles had been lit and lanterns set-out. The effect was quite astounding, something that no artist could ever render onto their easels and tablets. Shadows played over the grass in flickering patterns, the water reflecting the light emanating from the household.
Sighing, Mayu forced herself to look back to her work; making long, languid strokes, her brush gliding across the paper. If only this homework could do itself. She’d be able to curl up outside under the sakura tree and just count the stars, with only the koi for company. Hearing the soft pitter-patter of feet on the floor outside her bedroom, Mayu glanced up as the door drew back, revealing the smiling face of her little brother.
“Sissy. What're yew dewing?” waddling into the room, Hikaru exuded exactly what his name stood for: radiance and an aura of love that everyone around him could feel. It wasn’t really a power or anything of the sort. It was just who he was; a young, light-spirited, and happy boy…a product of his disability. No one knew what was wrong with him, just that he was slower than most kids his age, along with a slight immaturity. It was what made him who he was though, and Mayu wouldn’t change him for a normal brother for the world. Taking him into her lap, she adjusted him accordingly, stroking his hair with a tender hand.
”Nothing much, Hicky. Just working on some random homework from school. What’re you doing up – shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Weeeeelll. Yeahh. But mummy ‘n daddeh are keep’n me up. Thur not happy rite now.”
Hikaru had a talent, something the family did their best to try and keep under wraps - he could read the emotions of people around him. He didn’t know the reasons for their feelings, just that they were having them. It was a pretty handy ability, except in these cases where they kept him too riled up to sleep. ”I’m sure everything will be okay, Hicky. The war’s just getting a little tense right now. You need to sleep though. ”
Hiking him up, she walked him over to her bed, laying him down and tucking him in between the sheets. Singing to him softly, watching as his eyelids became heavier and heavier, calming him down with her own inner peace. Once he was knocked out, her mind wandered on its own tangents. What were her parents doing that had them so worked up enough that Hikaru couldn’t sleep?
Sliding back open the door, Mayu sneaked into the hallway, making her way to the stairs. She would figure out what was up, but she most evade her parents attention at all costs. They highly disproved of Noble women being involved in anything that was less then, well, Noble. This included the war that they had a hand in starting. The situation astounded and angered her to no ends – how did they have the audacity to start a war and then look down upon those who wished to join the ranks; not to mention that women had just as much of a right to fight as men. She was ranting in her head now, and she knew it. But the gall of her parents was always a surefire way to set her off. Nevertheless, she loved her parents and didn’t wish to anger them, her involvement in the local Academy and her eventual participation on the war would have to be hidden from them at all costs; them finding her snooping at what they were doing could be a surefire way to tip them off that their daughter was not, in fact, attending a refinery school for Noble teenage women.
Continuing on down the hallway, Mayu padded softly down the stairs, hearing just a hint of her parents’ voices – but nothing legible. Nearing the reception room, Mayu peeked around a door jamb, her eyes assaulted by the images within.
A Noble soldier was kneeling before her father, who sat in his usual location upon his throne-like chair, spouting to him tales of battle from the forefront. Hearing his stories set more to the flame within her chest that spurred her to fight against her parents’ wishes. Watching the stoic faces of her mother and father caused that flame to roar even higher, so high that it seemed impossible that they couldn’t hear it from where they were. It was drowning out all noise and she had an itching to just step out into the reception area and make herself known to her parents, revealing to them her intention to join the front lines and fight for the cause when all they did was sit here and hear reports, accomplishing nothing.
Instead, Mayu marched out of the household, quietly, and out into the open air. She needed to breathe, center herself before she did something rash. Her parents would never understand. They would always sit there, highly perched, looking down upon those who served them as if they were nothing more than logs for the fire. She would give herself to the war and redeem her family’s name, even if the only people who would know she was doing it were her ancestors. Feeling better with her reinforced conviction, Mayu returned to the house.
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Posted: Thu Jul 15, 2010 12:24 pm
It seems privacy was no longer present in peoples’ lives. At least, upon invasion of mine, I had my face covered so no one would be able to recognize me. I had climbed the great Cherry Tree Hill, where my parents had once taken me to listen to stories, and was practicing my form and fan movements. Not too far along the current form I was working on, that of the “Emerging Butterfly” defense routine, I was interrupted by a blue clad Lunarian male. Dressed in a robe from ankle up, with extremely long hair a couple shades lighter then my own, he called out to me; discussing my form and execution speed as if we were best friends, even though I had never met this unknown male in my life.
He really was an interesting person to behold. He seemed to have no interest in the shape of my body, the curve of my womanly figure. I was in the sassiest, most…taunting stances I could implement and no effect. Following that phenomenon, he referenced past teachers, masters in physical combat, and even…poetry. His conversational skills, immunity to charm, and intelligence astounded me. I did not think males, of any age – or Lunarians for that matter, were ignorant to informational things or articles of literacy, such as poetry and prose, but the time, place, and situation in which this all occurred threw me off slightly. I was certainly thrown off to find a male who did not pay lavish attention to my body instead of the movements of my form and the eloquence of the moves.
Curiosity peeked, I did my best to learn this interesting Lunarian individuals’ name, but was met with further aggravation to find that he would not willingly give it up. Talk of etiquette and respect were brought into the conversation. I can say that I was fully aggravated and confused as to what this Lunarians purpose in life was, and what his effect on mine was. Reflecting back on our conversation, and his antics, I would almost venture a guess that he was one of the few Lunarians who controlled spirit. Whether he was a living or dead priest was unseen, or even that he was one at all, but it wouldn’t be surprising to find later on, if we met again, that he was one.
Talking with the male longer, I realized he seemed to always have an opinion, never openly admitting ignorance at any particular topic. I don’t know exactly if he was like this because of a superiority complex, if he just hated to be wrong, or if he was so naïve that he honestly thought his open was correct on all topics. Nevertheless, the information he offered was somewhat interesting, if a little boring, and beneficial in pointing out some issues in the execution of my form. Would I worry about what he had said? Probably not. My form might not be like what you saw at some performance filled with prima ballerinas, but it would do. I wasn’t worried about the…”prettiness” of my moves, but their execution. Would my moves defend me when fighting against a particular opponent? Yes. Would they harm them? Yes. With that information, I was fine. Nevertheless, a part of me wanted my moves to have poetry written about them. I just wouldn’t really worry about that right now. I had a lot of growing and learning to do, so hopefully the fluidity he discussed would come with age and experience.
Not too long into our discussion, we parted ways. I did find out his name though. Kyung. Tae, Kyung. An interesting name for an interesting individual. Maybe I would meet him again in the future, maybe not. Only time would tell.
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Posted: Thu Sep 09, 2010 10:29 am
Not many sounds were made within the room, other than the cursory noises of breathing, writing, and crinkling pages. Occasionally, the teacher, an elderly male Lunarian with green scales would walk around, stopping at the students’ desks to offer constructive criticism or compliments. Stooping over an onyx haired beauties’ desk he stroked the considerable growth of hair found on his chin. “Nice work Mayu. You have a very good design going on this seal. I haven’t seen such innovative work in a long time.”
Flipping her hair back with a single brush of her hand Mayu glanced back at the man who had just paid her a compliment, eyes shining. “Thank you, Sensei Nguyen. I really appreciate that. Is there anything you can offer in the way of critique? I’d really like to improve in any way I can.”
“I will say that you need to work on more defined, fuller strokes. It supplements the strength and reliability of the sigils. But you never want to double stroke a line - it detracts from the original power, confuses the pathways, and can cause the power to be exhibited in a different fashion then you intended,” chucking slightly into his beard, the teacher’s eyes almost seemed to glaze over as he remembered an event long passed. “You know, I once had a friend who double stroked a line for a smokescreen sigil. It’s a story for another time, but it ends with my friend covered in soot, a toad, and a tree on fire.”
Giggling to the ending of such an instructive lesson, Mayu returned her eyes to the paper. “So, I’m assuming that fuller strokes lead to greater power pathways in their creation? Sigils with thinner stroke lines are weaker, with a easier tendency to mess up?” Seeing the teacher’s acquiescing nod, the blue eyed Lunarian returned to her work, hearing the soft pat of the teacher’s footsteps moving on to the next table.
“Why are you always such a suck up to the teachers? Stop showing off, and going above and beyond what’s required. Freak. Always wearing a mask in class, like anybody cares about if you’re having a bad complexion or not.”
Twisting around on her stool, Mayu looked into the narrowly slit pink eyes of the girl behind her. “Why do you always start fights where they’re not wanted? You sit there and condemn me for doing what is required of me. I want to be the best of the best, and sitting in class doing lackluster works like yours benefits no one. Stay at your own desk, Oanh, I have no quarrel with you – so stop making one.” Not paying attention to her rising vocal tone, Mayu returned her attention to her desk, surprised to see a couple of the students watching her in awe of her vocal reprimand. Behind her, Oanh’s face was deepening in to a darkly shaded red of embarrassment.
“You’ll regret saying things like that to me, cho cai.” Before Mayu could respond, the class bell rang, signaling the move to the next class period. Instead of responding to the astounding insult, she gathered her bags and walked out of the classroom. She won’t do anything. All she is is talk. Even if she does try something, I’ll handle it.
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