SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS ↓ ↓ xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx┃ ┃ ┃ xx WHO AM I TO DISAGREE? xx ★ xx TRAVEL THE WORLD AND THE SEVEN SEAS !!xxxxxxxxxxxx⊰ Everybody's x→ xl o o k i n gx ←x for something ⊱Some of them want to use you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSome of them want to get used by youxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSome of them want to abuse you↴xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxSome of them want to be abusedYana Anatoly Shevchenko placed her long, pale slim fingers on the doorknob and gave it a gentle twist before she pulled the door open. Strands of her violet and pink hair moved forward with the sudden jerk and went back to their regular spots, her hair bounced with her runway model walk as she surveyed the dormitory carefully with cautious blue eyes. She pulled her luggage in and threw it into the room with only one bed, it was her own way to say that she had made it her own and didn't want to share. The Ukrainian opened each luggage carefully, the zips treated with great care and she let herself sit and stare at her belongings for a while with a blank expression, she mentally checked that everything was there. One by one, she picked out her clothing and placed them in closet provided. The fact that her roommates weren't here gave her the freedom to claim whatever she thought was the best before anyone else could. All of her undergarments were put into the bottom drawer of her dresser, small accessories and such were put into the top drawer, carefully assorted. She pulled out birth certificates, documents and such, sorted them into a pile and put them into the bottom drawer of the three on her desk, paper placed on them to conceal them.
Once the violet haired teenager settled in, she took a purple pen of sorts and tapped the top until the black ink glowed, above her bed's headboard, she neatly wrote: Yana Anatoly in cursive. She used the same pen to write down various things such as "Hope.", "Dream Big.", "Fall seven times, stand up eight.", "I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living." and various other quotes in a typographic manner. When she felt satisfied and her wall was nearly full, she put the pen on her desk and headed out of her bedroom, she checked out the bathroom and the kitchen - admired it, she did because it was spacious and she'd have much fun cooking there. She hung around the living/dining room for a while, it was quite a bore to her, she was alone after all, there was no point in being there. Without a word, the violette left her new dormitory and headed for whatever she could find.
[Exit to Garden]
