RBYDark — Roleplayer Guild

Haruko had been doing her best to listen, honestly. Even if things probably hadn't changed from last year (she wasn't certain, she had zoned out last year too and so could hardly remember a thing about that first ceremony beyond the fact she attended it), it was important to make the effort. If nothing else, no one could accuse her of being 'disrespectful' or 'lazy' - she just tried and couldn't do it. Regardless, her attempts ended up failing once the student beside her slumped over onto her shoulder. Haruko glanced her over, confirming she was just asleep instead of sick or worse. That was good. She didn't recognize the student though - probably from another year, Haruko had trouble interacting with those above or below her at times due to the schedules.

Then another student - this one seemed male - came by and poked the girl leaning on her. Haruko squirmed a bit at his remark.

"Hope they aren't staring at me too," she whispered, glancing around for these prefects. Really, she had good reason not to be paying attention.
--
New year, new school, new people. Diarmi acknowledged the importance of it all, and proceeded to then stop caring as best demonstrated by his fiddling with his turtleneck collar. He absorbed the speech on the surface, but discarded its words quickly. None of them seemed particularly wise or important to, well, anything. Not school or life or anything. It was almost amazing how much time was devoted to such nothingness, that by the time the principal stepped down for the student council president, Diarmi had wholly forgotten all but the most general idea of the man's speech. Maybe it was some sort of power - he couldn't help but smile at the thought, the man being a superpowered human. The power to drone on indefinitely!

Not that it was impossible, as the eye hidden by the turtleneck reminded him. But it would be funny. The president's speech, at least kept it short and managed to sum up the principal's intent in that much time. Of course he applauded her. He then rose from his seat, glancing at the girl beside him who had been playing with her ring the entire ceremony. Like the principal's speech, he had tuned it out after a while. However, she was still doing it. Maybe she was just bored? Or maybe she was nervous. She didn't look older than him. Maybe she was a fellow first-year, anxious by the prospect of a new year. He gave it some consideration, trying to decide what to do, before simply waving at her. She was free to ignore it.

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Demigod of Spite

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