05-27-2008, 09:40 PM
Zangya’s comprehension of laziness was rather limited. She had never really been one to shy away from manual labor because she ‘didn’t want to do it’—especially if it was specified in her job description that it was, indeed, a part of her job. This was why she was so frustrated with today’s attendant in the barracks. Technically, they weren’t supposed to leave—but Zangya had been forced to make an exception.
She’d been lonely over the past day and a half or so with nothing to do, so she needed someone, or something, to keep her occupied. It had hit her, at that moment, that a book would be nice. However, much to her discontent, the attendant claimed that he was ‘sick’ and ‘didn’t think it’d be healthy to exert so much energy.’ What the heck? It was a part of his job description—heck, she’d read it on the bulletin board that hung precariously in there:
Ah, how wimpy men had become these days—Zangya’s mind then fluttered to the idea that perhaps she should just go out and do it herself. She didn’t know which book she wanted anyways. So she slipped out of the barracks, past the ‘sick’ attendant, and found the library along the way.
The library had always been a place that Zangya found calming. Now, looking upon her, and her tough-girl exterior, one may have thought that Zangya would not have enjoyed the relative peace the library offered—the fact of the matter was, she really didn’t, but on days such as this, where there was nothing to do and she was frustrated, she found that nothing much could calm her mind except for a good book, which is how she had found herself standing curiously in front of the shelf that read ‘S.’
“Strategy: A Beginner’s Guide.” Interesting. She’d never seen this book before, and she felt that she wasn’t exactly that good at strategy. She could endure the harsh island—she had the willpower. Maybe not the strength or the stamina, but she wouldn’t give up, no matter how weak and tortured she felt. Intelligence she had always felt so average in. So, without further thought, she pulled the book from the shelf.
A quiet spot—the corner. Zangya’s feet took her towards the back corner of the library, where she was quite sure no one would come. She sat down at the table, opened the book, and began to read.
“Chapter One: Getting the Lay of the La—”
“Ouch,” said a voice from underneath the table. Suddenly, Zangya realized that she had, indeed, just kicked something—she’d thought it to be the table legs, perhaps, because it was quite stern, but perhaps it was just a bony woman’s arm? She peeked under the table, and found that it was someone she preferred not to associate with.
Celipa.
The Ader stood, turned cordially, and began to walk off. “Hey,” Celipa shouted after her, and many hushing noises could be heard from across the library, “What’s up? Why you leaving?” The saiyan obviously hadn’t recognized her yet. Hesitantly, Zangya turned. “Oh.” Celipa’s single utterance was one of realization. “How you doing, Zangya?” she continued, a grin plastered on her face. The raven-haired woman stepped confidently up to Zangya, so much so that she could look down at the Ader, who was rather short compared to the saiyaness.
“Afternoon, Celipa,” Zangya muttered politely. The two could feel the tension in the air. “I can say that I’m doing very well—in fact, I’m quite good. My face doesn’t hurt anymore.” Zangya’s mouth wanted to mock the saiyan, but she could find no grounds.
“Good, I guess. Maybe I’ll fix your face back how it was.” Zangya’s eyes looked sharply up at the Saiyan’s face. She sighed, and walked over to the table, laying her book down. “What’s the matter, Zangya?” the woman asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Zangya replied as Celipa inched closer to her. This was her chance. Her chance for redemption—but she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t release any energy before the competition. That’s why she’d gotten the book, for goodness’ sakes! “Nope, nothing’s the matter.”
“You sure? You sure your face isn’t burning again? Feel like standing on the top of a hill now? I meant to ask you—how was that tumble down the hill? Looked a lot of fun from my point of—agh!” The saiyan woman stumbled back, Zangya’s fist connecting with her gut. “What the—” she tried to stutter, but she didn’t have time; Zangya’s other fist came up and pelted her jaw, sending her careening to the floor. “Why, you little harlot, I’m going to kill you.”
“Show, don’t tell, Celipa.”
“Bring it on.”
OOC: I set us up, Cel. If you want to continue the roleplaying aspect of it, go ahead and just continue it in here. If you want to make a "spar" or "fight" out of it, go ahead and post in there, just if it's a fight, specify that neither of us is gonna die at the end. After the staff declares one of us a winner, we can roleplay Cel and Zangya getting reprimanded for fighting in the library, but not being disqualified.
She’d been lonely over the past day and a half or so with nothing to do, so she needed someone, or something, to keep her occupied. It had hit her, at that moment, that a book would be nice. However, much to her discontent, the attendant claimed that he was ‘sick’ and ‘didn’t think it’d be healthy to exert so much energy.’ What the heck? It was a part of his job description—heck, she’d read it on the bulletin board that hung precariously in there:
Quote: If you've been accepted, you will be escorted to a private barracks via an elevator. In the barracks there are 44 beds, numbered 1-44. You can meet, greet and strategize here. You can also still check out books from the DA Library via one of the attendants. You can also use the attendants to shop.
Ah, how wimpy men had become these days—Zangya’s mind then fluttered to the idea that perhaps she should just go out and do it herself. She didn’t know which book she wanted anyways. So she slipped out of the barracks, past the ‘sick’ attendant, and found the library along the way.
The library had always been a place that Zangya found calming. Now, looking upon her, and her tough-girl exterior, one may have thought that Zangya would not have enjoyed the relative peace the library offered—the fact of the matter was, she really didn’t, but on days such as this, where there was nothing to do and she was frustrated, she found that nothing much could calm her mind except for a good book, which is how she had found herself standing curiously in front of the shelf that read ‘S.’
“Strategy: A Beginner’s Guide.” Interesting. She’d never seen this book before, and she felt that she wasn’t exactly that good at strategy. She could endure the harsh island—she had the willpower. Maybe not the strength or the stamina, but she wouldn’t give up, no matter how weak and tortured she felt. Intelligence she had always felt so average in. So, without further thought, she pulled the book from the shelf.
A quiet spot—the corner. Zangya’s feet took her towards the back corner of the library, where she was quite sure no one would come. She sat down at the table, opened the book, and began to read.
“Chapter One: Getting the Lay of the La—”
“Ouch,” said a voice from underneath the table. Suddenly, Zangya realized that she had, indeed, just kicked something—she’d thought it to be the table legs, perhaps, because it was quite stern, but perhaps it was just a bony woman’s arm? She peeked under the table, and found that it was someone she preferred not to associate with.
Celipa.
The Ader stood, turned cordially, and began to walk off. “Hey,” Celipa shouted after her, and many hushing noises could be heard from across the library, “What’s up? Why you leaving?” The saiyan obviously hadn’t recognized her yet. Hesitantly, Zangya turned. “Oh.” Celipa’s single utterance was one of realization. “How you doing, Zangya?” she continued, a grin plastered on her face. The raven-haired woman stepped confidently up to Zangya, so much so that she could look down at the Ader, who was rather short compared to the saiyaness.
“Afternoon, Celipa,” Zangya muttered politely. The two could feel the tension in the air. “I can say that I’m doing very well—in fact, I’m quite good. My face doesn’t hurt anymore.” Zangya’s mouth wanted to mock the saiyan, but she could find no grounds.
“Good, I guess. Maybe I’ll fix your face back how it was.” Zangya’s eyes looked sharply up at the Saiyan’s face. She sighed, and walked over to the table, laying her book down. “What’s the matter, Zangya?” the woman asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Zangya replied as Celipa inched closer to her. This was her chance. Her chance for redemption—but she couldn’t do it—she couldn’t release any energy before the competition. That’s why she’d gotten the book, for goodness’ sakes! “Nope, nothing’s the matter.”
“You sure? You sure your face isn’t burning again? Feel like standing on the top of a hill now? I meant to ask you—how was that tumble down the hill? Looked a lot of fun from my point of—agh!” The saiyan woman stumbled back, Zangya’s fist connecting with her gut. “What the—” she tried to stutter, but she didn’t have time; Zangya’s other fist came up and pelted her jaw, sending her careening to the floor. “Why, you little harlot, I’m going to kill you.”
“Show, don’t tell, Celipa.”
“Bring it on.”
OOC: I set us up, Cel. If you want to continue the roleplaying aspect of it, go ahead and just continue it in here. If you want to make a "spar" or "fight" out of it, go ahead and post in there, just if it's a fight, specify that neither of us is gonna die at the end. After the staff declares one of us a winner, we can roleplay Cel and Zangya getting reprimanded for fighting in the library, but not being disqualified.
![[Image: Zangcopy.jpg]](http://i22.photobucket.com/albums/b330/KiroX2/Zangcopy.jpg)
When you're dancing her dance, you don't stand a chance
Her grip of romance makes you fall!
So you think, might as well dance a tango to Hell
At least I'll have tango'd at all!