Disclaimer: I don't know why, but I love doing this thing. shrugs Anyway, I don't own Dragon Knights. I don't own any music mentioned. If you sue me, you are not only incredibly stupid, but you will recieve naught but a long lecture on why Thats and Kitchel will be paired up before the series is over.
Warning: Same as before. Language, I'm not sure how bad, since I have yet to actually write this chapter. I'll get started on it now. (after chapter is written Wow, that was actually clean! is surprised with self No warning, then. Just implied fluff.)
Dedication: As before, much thanks to Kat! She's my beta-er and my poster... Er... I mean she posts things for me since I can't at the moment, not that she's a piece of paper.
A/N: Whoa, I totally did not expect so many reviews for that last chapter. I thought maybe Ginsing and Kat, but... Anyway, THANK YOU EVERYONE!!! Your responses shall be at the end of this chapter. I'm coming home soon, so expect those other fics of mine to get worked on VERY SHORTLY!! I will be SO happy to have word processing again. This is being written out of hotmail. ; Oh, and if the style seems strange, I'm currently reading a book by Somerset Maugham, and my writing style often reflects what I have read last. ; Sorry if this bothers anyone, and I tried not to let it change how this is supposed to sound too much...looks at freshly written chapter Wow, that is short. Still, what do you expect? I wrote it in an hour in an e-mail, so...
:::
But she gave a lot of thought to being asked
:::
The trailing strips of thin colorful paper hanging over the one entrance to the gym were the one decoration on the otherwise plain building.
To the few students actually dancing, for it was a slow song, and these left the dance floor ominously empty, they looked like multi-colored shards of fame; celebrating the partnered couples and heralding days of sugar-sweet high school romance. They brought up half full wishes of tentative words and delicate vows of a wonderfully naive and youthful love.
For those on the sides, however, they were depressing reminders of yet another failed mission, another dance wasted. For these people, the shimmering swiftness of the paper in the breeze was not only irritating; it was painful. It's cheerful rejoicing seemed so out of place with their melancholy, and sometimes sour; moods. It was because of this reason that most opted to look away from them, turning their line of vision instead to the one other distraction: The dance floor. This wasn't quite as bad. It gave you a strange fellowship, to sit there with your friends (or, if you were unlucky, the lack thereof,), knowing that you weren't the only one sitting the dance out.
Knowing that the various people around you, all different looking with different styles and figures and faces, were all the same.
That in the eyes of the person beside you was mirrored the same look as the one in your own. A mixed emotion of despair and jealousy, loathing and loneliness, relief and searching.
Yes, all pairs of eyes were the same.
Except one.
Seated towards the end of the first row, Cesia tugged a strand of curling dark hair behind her ear, casually glancing over the sea of dancing bodies, all swaying to rhythms within themselves, moving in a rough beat to the music.
"It's not like this is going to affect anything," she said comfortingly to the downcast girl beside her, "It's not like this really matters."
They created an odd picture, the two of them.
Cesia in her black mesh shirt, worn loosely over a tank top of the same color, and a pair of long and tight midnight jeans, and combined with her dark wavy hair, flowing free down her back, looked vaguely gothic, while her companion was anything but. The other's name was Tintlett, and she was clad in a blouse of a soft beige, and while she too was wearing fitted jeans, they weren't as corset-like as those of her friend's, and they were a stone-washed and faded blue, very soft to the touch. They both wore earrings, but while Cesia had chosen a pair of silver chains with small crimson drops at their tips, Tintlett had a pair of simple golden studs in the shape of blooming flowers. Their bare feet were the one thing they had in common, since the rules of the dance required all to remove their shoes before entering the gym, a futile effort to preserve the varnished wood.
"It's ok," Cesia's calm voice repeated once more, "Besides, there's still time. The dance isn't over yet."
At these words they both automatically glanced towards the large clock hanging on the wall, barely visible in the dim light.
9:45.
There were fifteen more minutes.
"See?" Cesia pressed onwards, "Still time. Who knows, maybe he'll ask you for the last dance."
They both knew who the 'he' was that she was talking about, even though she didn't say a name.
Tintlett smiled wanely.
"Yeah. Maybe."
The dark haired girl put on a slightly distracted smile.
"That's my girl."
She paused.
"I'm going to go find Kitchel."
Then she stood up and walked towards the doors, leaving her friend on the bleachers.
As she made her way over towards the enterance, she cast a glance over her shoulder towards the dancing couples. About to do the same to the sidelines, to the part where the majority of the male population was seated, she caught herself, tugging her eyes back down.
Once again she spoke:
"It's not like this really matters."
But as she sent a last look to the dance floor, a flicker in her face gave her away, and for a moment, all pairs of eyes were the same.
:::
Kat: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING MY BETA AND POSTING GIRL!!! And... I'm coming back (I'm coming back, coming back, back to da kine...) home VERY soon! I should see you before another week goes by! happy ...Please buy that dvd attachment thing... Please...
insaneoveranime: Ah, I finally have a chance to give you this message. Yes, I will update those other stories... Once I get back home. I have bits of their next chapters written, but that's all on my desktop, so I need access to my computer to finish them...
Hououza: Thank you for the luck, I probably need it. ; is not very lucky
Cesia Illuser: Let me guess what your favorite pairing is... Anyway, UPDATED!
Tsume Yamagata: Actually, I got this idea shortly before I left home ('bout five weeks ago, then...), but never had the song lyrics, so I couldn't work on this idea until Kat allpraiseKat sent them to me at my request.
Ginsing: That would be you, darling. And thanks for not ignoring me! ...When I take over the world (and squish everyone from the class of 2009), how would you like to become the dictator of a fairly large third world country in Africa(India and another t.w.c. in the Middle East are already reserved, so I figure Africa will give you a lot of choices.)?
Brotee: Oh, yay! Another school fic person! is trying to figure out how to advertise her two other school fics subtly and fails Fame and Fortune and Just a Farie Tale are two school fics written by me.. Although JaFT isn't exactly a school fic... More of a fantasy /supernatual romance that is currently just wearing the mask of a school fic. But F&F is quite defintly a SF. You could read them... And review... Hinthint...
Please tell me what you think of this fic! Tell me what you think about me streak of SFs! Tell me what you think about my Thatchel obsession! ...And preferably do it in a review.
Warning: Same as before. Language, I'm not sure how bad, since I have yet to actually write this chapter. I'll get started on it now. (after chapter is written Wow, that was actually clean! is surprised with self No warning, then. Just implied fluff.)
Dedication: As before, much thanks to Kat! She's my beta-er and my poster... Er... I mean she posts things for me since I can't at the moment, not that she's a piece of paper.
A/N: Whoa, I totally did not expect so many reviews for that last chapter. I thought maybe Ginsing and Kat, but... Anyway, THANK YOU EVERYONE!!! Your responses shall be at the end of this chapter. I'm coming home soon, so expect those other fics of mine to get worked on VERY SHORTLY!! I will be SO happy to have word processing again. This is being written out of hotmail. ; Oh, and if the style seems strange, I'm currently reading a book by Somerset Maugham, and my writing style often reflects what I have read last. ; Sorry if this bothers anyone, and I tried not to let it change how this is supposed to sound too much...looks at freshly written chapter Wow, that is short. Still, what do you expect? I wrote it in an hour in an e-mail, so...
:::
But she gave a lot of thought to being asked
:::
The trailing strips of thin colorful paper hanging over the one entrance to the gym were the one decoration on the otherwise plain building.
To the few students actually dancing, for it was a slow song, and these left the dance floor ominously empty, they looked like multi-colored shards of fame; celebrating the partnered couples and heralding days of sugar-sweet high school romance. They brought up half full wishes of tentative words and delicate vows of a wonderfully naive and youthful love.
For those on the sides, however, they were depressing reminders of yet another failed mission, another dance wasted. For these people, the shimmering swiftness of the paper in the breeze was not only irritating; it was painful. It's cheerful rejoicing seemed so out of place with their melancholy, and sometimes sour; moods. It was because of this reason that most opted to look away from them, turning their line of vision instead to the one other distraction: The dance floor. This wasn't quite as bad. It gave you a strange fellowship, to sit there with your friends (or, if you were unlucky, the lack thereof,), knowing that you weren't the only one sitting the dance out.
Knowing that the various people around you, all different looking with different styles and figures and faces, were all the same.
That in the eyes of the person beside you was mirrored the same look as the one in your own. A mixed emotion of despair and jealousy, loathing and loneliness, relief and searching.
Yes, all pairs of eyes were the same.
Except one.
Seated towards the end of the first row, Cesia tugged a strand of curling dark hair behind her ear, casually glancing over the sea of dancing bodies, all swaying to rhythms within themselves, moving in a rough beat to the music.
"It's not like this is going to affect anything," she said comfortingly to the downcast girl beside her, "It's not like this really matters."
They created an odd picture, the two of them.
Cesia in her black mesh shirt, worn loosely over a tank top of the same color, and a pair of long and tight midnight jeans, and combined with her dark wavy hair, flowing free down her back, looked vaguely gothic, while her companion was anything but. The other's name was Tintlett, and she was clad in a blouse of a soft beige, and while she too was wearing fitted jeans, they weren't as corset-like as those of her friend's, and they were a stone-washed and faded blue, very soft to the touch. They both wore earrings, but while Cesia had chosen a pair of silver chains with small crimson drops at their tips, Tintlett had a pair of simple golden studs in the shape of blooming flowers. Their bare feet were the one thing they had in common, since the rules of the dance required all to remove their shoes before entering the gym, a futile effort to preserve the varnished wood.
"It's ok," Cesia's calm voice repeated once more, "Besides, there's still time. The dance isn't over yet."
At these words they both automatically glanced towards the large clock hanging on the wall, barely visible in the dim light.
9:45.
There were fifteen more minutes.
"See?" Cesia pressed onwards, "Still time. Who knows, maybe he'll ask you for the last dance."
They both knew who the 'he' was that she was talking about, even though she didn't say a name.
Tintlett smiled wanely.
"Yeah. Maybe."
The dark haired girl put on a slightly distracted smile.
"That's my girl."
She paused.
"I'm going to go find Kitchel."
Then she stood up and walked towards the doors, leaving her friend on the bleachers.
As she made her way over towards the enterance, she cast a glance over her shoulder towards the dancing couples. About to do the same to the sidelines, to the part where the majority of the male population was seated, she caught herself, tugging her eyes back down.
Once again she spoke:
"It's not like this really matters."
But as she sent a last look to the dance floor, a flicker in her face gave her away, and for a moment, all pairs of eyes were the same.
:::
Kat: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR BEING MY BETA AND POSTING GIRL!!! And... I'm coming back (I'm coming back, coming back, back to da kine...) home VERY soon! I should see you before another week goes by! happy ...Please buy that dvd attachment thing... Please...
insaneoveranime: Ah, I finally have a chance to give you this message. Yes, I will update those other stories... Once I get back home. I have bits of their next chapters written, but that's all on my desktop, so I need access to my computer to finish them...
Hououza: Thank you for the luck, I probably need it. ; is not very lucky
Cesia Illuser: Let me guess what your favorite pairing is... Anyway, UPDATED!
Tsume Yamagata: Actually, I got this idea shortly before I left home ('bout five weeks ago, then...), but never had the song lyrics, so I couldn't work on this idea until Kat allpraiseKat sent them to me at my request.
Ginsing: That would be you, darling. And thanks for not ignoring me! ...When I take over the world (and squish everyone from the class of 2009), how would you like to become the dictator of a fairly large third world country in Africa(India and another t.w.c. in the Middle East are already reserved, so I figure Africa will give you a lot of choices.)?
Brotee: Oh, yay! Another school fic person! is trying to figure out how to advertise her two other school fics subtly and fails Fame and Fortune and Just a Farie Tale are two school fics written by me.. Although JaFT isn't exactly a school fic... More of a fantasy /supernatual romance that is currently just wearing the mask of a school fic. But F&F is quite defintly a SF. You could read them... And review... Hinthint...
Please tell me what you think of this fic! Tell me what you think about me streak of SFs! Tell me what you think about my Thatchel obsession! ...And preferably do it in a review.