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Post by wesley on Nov 9, 2011 23:12:15 GMT -5
Carefully sliding his arms out from under the last box, Wesley breathed out a sigh of relief and patted it on the top. It was heavy for a box so small, and Wesley pushed up the sleeves of his blazer as he set to work opening it, ripping off the tape in large strips. A bit got stuck to his pants, and carefully the blonde peeled it off and shook his hand sharply to unstick it from his sleeve. It landed on his foot (covered in bright yellow socks) and he begrudingly made the trip to the garbage can to get rid of the tape once and for all.
Moving into the dorms wasn't new to him. Wesley had helped his two older brothers move in previously, and he packed far lighter than either of them, and so was well-equipped for the ordeal. He hadn't met his roommate yet, but his side of the room was neat and carefully organized. Wesley self-consciously began straightening up his side, knowing that it would all move around once he started actually unpacking. Right. Back to the box.
It was quick work to continue opening the flaps and he quickly discovered that it was full of books. That explains why it was so heavy, he thought, wondering why it wasn't written on the box-
Oh.
Turning the box around first so he didn't have to face the word "BOOKS" written in his neat block handwriting, Wesley proceeded to shelve them in the small bookcase to the right of his bed. It doubled as a nightstand, and his mother had thoughtfully added a small lamp the same blue as the button-up he was currently wearing. Thankfully, the good-byes had been short and to the point - his brothers were out doing god knows what, and Dimona didn't care. The only grief she felt was knowing she'd have to wait at least two years before she could attend. His mother was less jaded, and they shared a quick hug before she ushered Dimona off. Wesley's father hadn't come, but Wesley hadn't been surprised about that either. Mr. Lincoln had never been a very chatty man, and was very absorbed in - whatever it was that he did. He was secretive. Wesley often wondered what he did, locked up in his study for hours, days on end. Wesley had once asked his mother about it, but she had only replied, "He's very busy," and shooed Wesley away.
Finished with one shelf and going back to the box to grab another armful of heavy volumes (snuck out of both Norman and Antole's rooms without them knowing), he thought more about that study. It was strange, how he was thinking about all those old rooms in his house he had taken for granted. He hadn't really wanted to leave. Shibusen had always been in his future - it was surreal actually going there after hearing about it for so many years. Even his mother would remember those years, reminiscing over a pot of stew while he sat on the counter and bit into warm bread, fresh from the oven. If pressured, Wesley would admit that the reason he didn't want to leave home was because of his mother's cooking. She hated being called a "typical housewife," but she loved cooking. It would be weird not to hear her humming in the morning, to hear the timer beep. He never used an alarm, just listened for the oven or the coffee pot.
Wesley stood up and clapped his hands together. A job well done! Al the books were in the shelves - there was a moment as Wesley deliberated organizing them by alphabetical order, title or author - but waved a hand at the bindings of the books with a "Naaaah."
There were about four large boxes left, and grabbing the nearest one and sitting on the bed as he opened it, he began to further unpack.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 11, 2011 2:42:48 GMT -5
The day began early. Very early, in fact. Then again, his days always began in such a way as to make a normal human cringe at the time he woke up. Who else in their right mind would surely wake up at 5 am to begin their day? And in what a way! Naturally, he showered first and then got dressed for early morning exercises. A short sort of five mile jog to start the day and to warm himself up for the training he would put himself through. School was not an option today, for there was none, and there was no remaining homework to do as he had caught himself up completely before today. This would be a day of pure training and that was it. This particular army brat would make certain he stayed away from whatever chaos his mentally deranged next door neighbor would have in mind. There were orders given, certainly, but one could not look after the sociopath every second of the day. The Asian-American would keep an eye on her, but only when necessary. A deep regret plagued him for not being able to protect her roommate more, but the warning had been given and the girl knew exactly what kind of person she was so he hoped the girl would take the necessary measures to protect herself from harm and chaos. He hoped, at least. But hunger is what struck him at the moment. A small dinner would be necessary if he were to continue this day in one piece. And so he went. Qin certainly was no cook of anything gourmet but, in necessary, the boy could scrounge something up that he had learned from army chefs to survive and get by. However, that did not seem appetizing at the moment, not so much as a professionally, or at least semi-professionally, judging by the appearance of the small eatery, cooked meal would suffice much greater than his wonderful culinary skills from the corps.
However, this meal was only slightly satisfactory, though immensely greater than the result that would be provided should he had tried to cook this same meal all by himself. Much greater, in fact. It was a sad and sordid fact, but they did deserve to receive the compensation so they shall. Qin paid for the meal like any good law-abiding citizen would, but added no praising comments about the meal and left as politely and respectfully as he could. The time to go to his room to change into something more fitting for training would be needed. It was only respectful to don the proper attire for practicing martial arts, respectful to his heritage and the art of Kung Fu itself. And so the man made his way back to his room, making sure not to bother or be caught by "Bang Bang" or bothered by any of the other uncouth inhabitants which dwelled in the nearby vicinity. He put the key into the door but there was no resistance, as if it were...open. Unlocked. Which was absurd since he always made it a special point to keep his door locked at all times. Cautiously Qin entered the room and gazed around it carefully, expecting an attack only to see a boy, taller than himself and approximately the same age, Qin locked eyes with this intruder and spoke in an authoritative voice. "You are obviously in the wrong place. I have received no notice that I would be quartering with any others in the nearby future, therefore you do not belong here. It is advised you leave these premises and do so immediately lest I be forced to take action with the dorm supervisor in response to this invasion of privacy," stated Qin as professionally as possible. And it was true, this was how things were done. Qin only knew he would be alone in his dorm experience and expected to be informed should he be put with another. This boy obviously was in the wrong room. Qin watched him carefully, more his lips than anything, but also the young boy's dark eyes kept a close watch on the rest of his movements as Qin himself stood seemingly at ease but ready for any physical retaliation, as was his training.
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Post by wesley on Nov 11, 2011 4:07:44 GMT -5
Wesley looked up from his box, in the middle of moving his sweaters into the cupboard. He dropped the clothing back into the box quickly and turned around to face his roommate. Due to the stress of packing and Wesley’s general forgetfulness, he hadn’t yet checked to see exactly who he’d be rooming with. One thing was for sure - he hadn’t expected someone so serious. Qin gave off a very intense vibe that reminded Wesley of his sister – although the Asian man standing before him was in every way more disciplined and formal than his 12-year-old sister could ever hope to be. Dimona was a holy terror, and Wesley was glad every day that she tolerated him. She knew more dirty tricks and ways to remove your dignity than anyone else, and he almost felt sorry for any Kishin she went against. Almost. But back to the matter at hand; the first impression Wesley was obviously making on Qin was not as favorable as he would have hoped.
"Th-th-th-?" Wesley stuttered, half in surprise. He cleared his throat before replying. "The wrong room? I was told to c-c-c-come here, though." He gave Qin a vaguely puzzled look. "They d-d-d-d-d-didn't tell you I was moving in?” This was a bit surprising. Wesley knew he had signed up for a dorm room sort of late, but it hadn’t been that last minute. Remembering something, Wesley patted his pockets until he found what he was looking for - drawing a slim envelope out of his back pocket, he opened it and waved it in Qin's general direction. "I have a letter here, s-s-s-saying I'm in the right room..." Wesley glanced over it breifly to make sure he wasn't mistaken, and confirming that he was, in fact, designated to this room, he walked over and handed the letter to Qin.
He paused for a moment before adding, “I d-d-d-d-don’t know if there’s been a mistake, buh-buh-but it can’t be that bad to have a ruh-ruh-roomie, right?” He gave Qin a half-smile. “I guess I’d better introduce myself.” Without any further prompting, he held out his hand to shake. “I’m Wesley L-l-l-l-lincoln, Meister. You c-c-c-can call me Wes, or Lee, or wuh-wuh-wuh-whatever.” He shrugged. “Up to you, really.”
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Post by Deleted on Nov 15, 2011 2:36:11 GMT -5
Of all the rooms in the world, trouble seemed to find him. No doubt it was a bad omen mostly like due to his parents obvious interference. Arranged marriages were not common within this country and therefore he could not be forced to marry Rockelle, that was his good fortune. Though, if it were common and therefore he could be forced, Rockelle would have never had turned into the monstrosity which she had and the world would be safe from this "Bang Bang" and he wouldn't mind in the least the marriage. It was an awful situation which the army brat was in, his parents were plotting the most vile of plots with the Launches and it would be the only time in his entire life which he would not follow through with them, not even if they ordered it to be so. Not that she would ever say yes anyways. But this, what in the world could be the purpose of this invasion by an unknown entity and who exactly was he? Qin studied him, he was taller and seemed to be in rather good physical shape, though perhaps not as much as Qin was. It was this time, this silence while he waited for a reply in which Qin would measure this boy up, to see whether or not he would be a threat while he ordered him out of his room. To invade another's room was an utmost offense but...he started to speak. He stuttered, just like his next door neighbor, the roommate and latest victim of Rockelle's. This made things only more so difficult as the man clad in army general issued clothing watched him and tried to decipher his words on his own. It was a talent in and of itself as most people who could read lips might have given up on this task. But this one claimed that he was told to and held something out. Qin held his own hand out, with a slight indignation about himself, to take the letter and read it on his own saying that this boy, Wesley Lincoln, had indeed been assigned to the room of Qin Zhoung. A heavy sigh escaped the boy's lips as he resigned himself to his fate of having a roommate forced upon him, whether he liked it or not. And, secretly, he began to wonder if this was another one of his parent's tricks.
"Apparently," the boy began in response, carrying the same strict tone as before albeit a little softer, though only a little bit, "the only mistake here is mine. I apologize. This letter with the official seal of Shibusen and Shinigami-sama states you as official and I shall respect this," said as handed the letter back to Wes. "My name is Qin Zhoung, Wesley Lincoln. Whether you address me as Qin or Zhoung is up to you, as upon this ground we are equals as students. My status within this school is that of a weapon. A dual dao blade, it is similar to a normal dao but it can be separated into two different blades connected by a chain. An elegant weapon and in my line I am the only one to possess this form out of all the generations," stated Qin once more as he stood rigidly explaining himself, he talked as if he didn't need air for not once did he slow down nor did he speed up in his speech pattern. It was a strict tone that had a great deal of discipline seeping through his words, flowing in and out of them like a dull, monotonous and very serious dance. And he bowed slightly to the boy, only slightly for he was not a superior but an equal. It was more for acknowledgement than pure respect. "Forgive me for interrupting you, I only returned to change my clothing. This attire might be suitable for running but it is not for martial arts. Today I shall train myself since school is not in session," and with these words he went to his own dresser, and opened the top drawer, taking out the black suit, neatly folded within in wooden prison, customary for Wing Chun and laid it on his bed and sat down next to it to remove his boots for it.
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