Post by Bloodstain Kira on Jul 29, 2011 20:06:07 GMT -5
ring around the rosies
-------------------------ashes, ashes
The library would have been a pretty boring place for most kids his age. Most sixteen-year-olds didn’t care much for books or reading, even the intelligent students at the academy. Bloodstain, on the other hand, didn’t exactly find it boring, but he wasn’t excited by the musky smell of old books either. He didn’t feel a thing as he made his way through the towering, overcrowded shelves, skimming the rows of books with complete disinterest. His permanently bored expression was fixed on his face. His eyelids sagged half closed and his lips set themselves in a straight line in their usual indifferent appearance. His pale fingers lightly ran over the spines of the books, the long sleeves of his striped shirt seeming to wipe the dust off of them. After staring blankly at the books for quite some time, Bloodstain seemed to find the one he had been looking for and pulled it off the shelf. He made his way back down the aisles, his Converse sneakers padding softly on the rough carpet, and found his way to a round wooden table in the back corner of the library.
With an airy sigh, the boy plopped himself down in a chair. He opened the book out in front of him and began to read mindlessly about the history of kendo. He was a member in the school’s Nindou Club. However, it wasn’t really because he liked ninjas and martial arts and all that. Bloodstain was good at all the martial arts, but he didn’t actually like it. He didn’t hate it, either. He felt absolutely nothing towards it. The Nindou Club was just like another class to him, just another part of the day he had to get through. He was just as apathetic towards every other aspects of his life. There was nothing out there that excited him, or upset him. There seemed to be nothing he felt any emotion towards.
Bloodstain read automatically, seeming to be just like a cold, heartless robot. He processed the information, let it sink itself into his brain, and continued on reading. He didn’t find it boring; he didn’t find it exciting. It was just how it was. Bloodstain had agreed to come to Gaikoku no Akademi, had joined the Nindou Club all so that his foster parents didn’t worry about him. He didn’t want them to worry. There was no need for them to feel such an unnecessary emotion for him. He was perfectly fine as he was. He had been fine back then, too. Back when he’d been that man’s ‘pet.’ Bloodstain hadn’t seen anything wrong with it. He didn’t understand why the man had been arrested. It had all been completely unnecessary, a waste of the police’s time. He didn’t think this because he had wanted to stay with the man, though he hadn’t wanted to leave either. He just hadn’t cared. He hadn’t had any problems with how the man had treated him. If he didn’t care, why should anybody else?
He flipped through the book, getting about halfway through quickly. He was good at reading. He had learned when he was little with a bit of help from his teacher at school. His parents, of course, had not paid much mind to his schoolwork. His mother had been too busy trying to stop her fits of insanity; his father had been in jail for most of the boy’s childhood. Bloodstain tugged vacantly at the black leather collar that encircled his neck. His head tilted itself to the side. He was completely absorbed, though indifferently, in the content of the book.
A fly suddenly landed on the tabletop beside the book. Becoming quickly and easily distracted, Bloodstain’s violet gaze shifted from the words on the page to the fly. Bloodstain bent his face closer to the small creature, watching it very carefully. He had suddenly completely forgotten about the kendo book, and instead watched the critter crawling around on the table. It shook out its little clear wings and darted around on the wooden surface.
we all fall down----------------
pocket full of posies
tagged -- open.
word count -- six-seven-six.
outfit -- click.
notes -- mindless ramble, as always for first posts.
song -- ring around the rosies.
