Puffin, B1 and bathroom, Thursday Afternoon (pre-BDD)
A good flight garanteed a good sleep, and Sakurazaki slept for an uncharacteristicly long time, eyes slowly, dreamily opening from sleep, face nuzzled deep into her pillow. Her back was too sore, red, and swollen to allow her to sleep on it, but it didn't matter. She could have had a dagger shoved into her spleen and she still would have slept soundly. She had so many good dreams, too, mostly sky and clouds and wind in her hair. But the warm feeling slowly slides away as she starts to wonder what time it was; clumbsily, she reached out to find her cell phone, flipping it open to peer with bleary eyes at the time on its small green face. 3:03.
Sakurazaki suddenly bolted up, as well as someone can when lying on their stomach. True, she didn't have any workshops today, but three o'clock! When...when...stuff was happening at seven! There was minor arm flailing and circle running, maybe a sqeak, before she snaps herself out of it and heads to the bathroom for a shower.
Passing the mirror, though, she promptly noticed that a very distict line of white roots are showing in her hair. Great. She slipped back out and jogged to her alcove again to grab one of the very well hidden supplies of hair dye before returning and spending a very probably supsiciously long time in the bathroom to care care of the problem.
While waiting for the dye to dry, she leans on the sink and confront herself in the mirror, wrapped only in a towel. She's used to that at Mahora, and, besides, she didn't want to get black on one of the few blouses she has left that hasn't been torn for wing accomidation. She confronts herself and asks herself exactly what she's about to do, why she's going to do it, and how she's going to do it. Such abnormal thoughts for her...adding what to wear, how to do her hair, so on and so forth, unwelcomingly invading her head. Like she had any options in that area anyway. The whole time, Alphonse's advice is drifting in her head. Just be yourself; have fun. It's no big deal, right?
She sighs. Right.
[[open; backtracking, yes, but work is silly and keeps me from posting as I'd like to]]
Sakurazaki suddenly bolted up, as well as someone can when lying on their stomach. True, she didn't have any workshops today, but three o'clock! When...when...stuff was happening at seven! There was minor arm flailing and circle running, maybe a sqeak, before she snaps herself out of it and heads to the bathroom for a shower.
Passing the mirror, though, she promptly noticed that a very distict line of white roots are showing in her hair. Great. She slipped back out and jogged to her alcove again to grab one of the very well hidden supplies of hair dye before returning and spending a very probably supsiciously long time in the bathroom to care care of the problem.
While waiting for the dye to dry, she leans on the sink and confront herself in the mirror, wrapped only in a towel. She's used to that at Mahora, and, besides, she didn't want to get black on one of the few blouses she has left that hasn't been torn for wing accomidation. She confronts herself and asks herself exactly what she's about to do, why she's going to do it, and how she's going to do it. Such abnormal thoughts for her...adding what to wear, how to do her hair, so on and so forth, unwelcomingly invading her head. Like she had any options in that area anyway. The whole time, Alphonse's advice is drifting in her head. Just be yourself; have fun. It's no big deal, right?
She sighs. Right.
[[open; backtracking, yes, but work is silly and keeps me from posting as I'd like to]]