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"Of course, of course!" Shisōka says, rushing in between Prince Deland and Vinda and giving a tight, but not too deep, bow. "I am Rani Shirokuro Shisōka. Please forgive my companions, Prince Deland. We are all under a great deal of stress. You see, we have been wrongfully accused of...of..." She begins to falter as the prospect of using certain words in any connection whatsoever with herself approaching like an iceberg. "...a bureaucratic mishap in our applications to our school, and have been sent on a quest to prove ourselves worthy."
A now-much-calmer-looking Shisōka suddenly looks around, and makes a slight jerk of her forearm, casting an unnatural shadow over - or more light chasing the ambient light away from - the small pile of coffee cups that have accrued next to her sometime in the past few minutes. "I'm...pardon me. Does that mean the academic misunderstanding's been settled, hopefully?" Sense Motive DC 35, DC 25 if trained in Knowledge (Arcana):
The mirror in her breast-pocket has ceased thrashing...but you sense a steady, black-hot ire from it. Directed at who? Who knows? Sense Motive DC 40, DC 30 if trained in Knowledge (Arcana): Actually, you think you know: It is angry at whoever it was who accused Shisōka of academic sloth and dishonesty, and it is angry at Shisōka for not standing up for herself.
Shisōka's face is even whiter than usual, her expression one of blank desperation. "Ohpleaseohpleasethere'sbeenamisunderstandingIswearI'veworkedSOHARDIwouldne verCHEATpleasebelievemeI'vedoneEVERYTHING...." Perception DC 19: The mirror in her pocket is now outright slamming itself against the limits of the pocket fabric, almost like an extreme caricature of a pounding heartbeat.
Shisōka continues to stand and smile demurely. Sense Motive DC 24 or Heal DC 16:
She looks like she's one rebuke away from an on-the-spot nervous breakdown...if not a full-on heart attack. "PleaseLadyTitaniatheremustbesomemistakeIdidmyabsoluteverybestIhaveneverbee nacademicallydishonestinanywayshapeorforminallmylifeIamcertainthisisallsimp lyamisunderstandingwithareasonableexplanationhaveyouseenmysamplework?" She tries thrusting her massive load of maps and scrolls at Lady Titania. Perception DC 17:
The stylized black hand mirror in her breast pocket is moving...with her pounding heartbeat directly behind it? Heavy respiration? Aroused chest? Something else...? Perception DC 22:
...like its own accord??? Perception DC 27: Yes, it is shifting about in her pocket of its own accord. It seems *miffed.*
*abruptly drops piles of scrolls, puts hands to cheeks, screams* *OHGODSOHGODSOHGODSSOMUCHTODOSOMUCHTOSTUDYSOMUCHTOPREPAREITHINKI'MGONNA-*
The best kind of lyrics! I see I have much yet to learn about anime....
Do those of us who got onboard with this (and patiently stayed onboard) during the initial thread get preference?
Shisōka has been waiting patiently for a teacher to arrive...or something. She is starting to get anxious, but works hard not to show it. OhgodswhataretheymakinguswaitaroundforIhatewastingtimeitmakesmesoillatease. ... Perception DC 21:
As she is watching Shona "socialize," the left side of her mouth lurches into a wide half-grin for only a moment before reverting to its normal state. "I would like some coffee," She says with a small smile.
Suddenly an unfamiliar woman barges into the room, her womanhood primarily evident by her long legs extending down from an archaic Vudrani-style skirt down to high-end, but rather starkly-designed black shoes, as her top half is mostly obscured by a truly massive bundle of strange charts and maps (seemingly more than even her athletically-built body appears it should be capable of handling simultaneously), several of which appear to have been recently scribed - perhaps even within the past few minutes, as, as this mysterious woman, whose pale skin somehow seems like it ought to in fact be many shades darker, attempts to clear the door with her armfuls of papers, a small blob of paint and dust slides right off of one, hitting the floor with a soft *spootch*. The woman freezes at the sound. "No! No! NO! NONONONONONO I WORKED SO HARD ON EVERY ONE OF THESE!!! Somebody help me with these! Please, hurry!"
Some kindly soul might help hold some of her scrolls, and several that they don't take of their own accord somehow find their ways into their arms as well. Shifting the remainder of her load to her right hand, she leans delicately over the offending fallen ink, with a visible neurotic awareness of her own every movement and point of contact. She gingerly reaches out with her left hand, and extends what had looked like simply a large steel ring into a curved blade, nasty-looking despite its small size, and proceeds to painstakingly scoop it up, before abruptly jumping up and pulling out both the messed-up map and a few calligraphy brushes, clean and cared-for to the point of looking like new, and keeps her kerambit extended for use as a paint palette while she meticulously restores the renegade inking materials to their proper place on the map.
She scowls gently at her results (though her eyes indicate that there is nothing 'gentle' about her disapproval). "Notgoodenough, notgoodenough, notgoodenough, NO EXCUSE! I MUST do better next time...!" She finally gets around to acknowledging that she is in company. She reaches for an ornate obsidian hand-mirror in her breast-pocket as if to help check her face and hair, but then halts awkwardly upon picking it up before putting it back (and shoving it in deeper). "Namaste," She tries an awkward bow or curtsy or something (like she's sincerely trying to present a demure greeting, but some part of her isn't all in it) before continuing. "I am Shirokuro Shisōka. A am desperately sorry for being late, ah...hmm...am I late? Am I in the right place? I have just been accepted!"
She woke up one day, bright and early as always, but the morning was dark
"Can you see me at last? I've always been there."
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