It wasn’t as bad as wewe thought it would be. Pulling up your rag tag body while your fingers looped into the steel holes. Huffing and puffing, your hand swiping the corners of your torn lip as wewe look bat the tormentors, wewe couldn’t help but to wonder: Why the fuck were they still here? With all that leather of a Letterman and the grace of a tool, standing and grinning at your dismay, clearly they could have been doing something else with their afternoon. Yet, they choose to do the same routine over and over again: slam the nerd while his protector was MIA because of soccer practice.
Your knees were starting to buckle underneath the dead weight at the same time your eyes began to blur and mix every thing together like a psychedelic high. Gulping down a fist full of the salty red liquid filling your mouth, wewe started to wonder once more: who was that guy? Fuzzy at first but wewe started to squint your eyes to get a better look. In the far back who was couldn’t act any zaidi obvious. He stood awkwardly with his hands digging in his pockets glancing through the bleachers trying to distract his mind (most of all eyes) from the situation at hand. No doubt he was new and already he sported the school colors but lack the jockey ass’itude. However, it was replace kwa the bystander approach.
Before getting zaidi details on the guy, wewe had your hair violated with intruding fingers. Your head was jerked upwards kwa the brunette roots causing wewe to yelp. It was he, Ivan. He looked at wewe with aroused interest, nothing new about that.
“You’re lucky, sweety.” Ivan breathed into your base of your ear. “Next time, I will…”
“Aye, Ivan, let’s ditch this punk ass. The track team is coming.” A faceless voice barked.
“Y’all head out first,” He commanded.
“All right.”
Like a pack of wolves, they began to dismiss their selves including the mysterious lad as well. wewe brought your attention back to Ivan’s mischievous grin. It ranged from earlobe to earlobe like a Cheshire cat he grinned. wewe kumeza another heap of blood and closed your watering eyes. wewe just want this end. This thunderous clap of agony rippling throughout your body like forest on moto then again why should it end? It’ll only happen the inayofuata encounter with the Cheshire cat and his mbwa mwitu pack. This broken record continue to scratch that ear splitting tune over and over again, yet whenever wewe try to remove the needle to ease the drums of your ear Ivan will pounce in and slap your wrist.
“Until inayofuata time, sweet cheeks.” He leaned forward, crossing the comfortable distance. Quickly wewe whimper at the touch of his lips against yours. “Next time.” Ivan promised, his coarse thumb sweeping under her eye as her peek them open.
As if the time clocked midnight, the ball became empty for the prince. cinderella whisked away without a single word of your inayofuata encounter. The only difference was this was no fairytale; it was an epic poem with no sights of the end. This clichéd plot driven kwa generics. When will this zero become a hero and revenge all the fallen nerds that help wewe raise to your glory?
wewe release a handful of steel from your grip to dry your tears. Biting down your lip wewe try not to release any of your cries for the birds to hear. Releasing another grip, wewe began to limp away from behind the bleachers. For what it seems to be a normal after school.
Thank Batman.
For your undeniable ninja like moves, easily wewe slip through the guy’s locker room (a shortcut) without being detected kwa the-only-athletes-who-uses-a-field-and-actually-have-a-mind-of-their-own soccer players. Feeling somewhat revealed to avoid an encounter with your best pal’s overly protective tendencies; wewe regroup your scattered brain within your fortress of solitude. Ah, wewe mean your locker.
The sweet, sweet comfort of your picture filled locker but wewe couldn’t admire the art for long, wewe needed to clean out the cuts on your face and bust out your back up glasses. Glancing to the side of the locker, your reflection was the only greeting you’ll accept that shady afternoon. wewe wince with each push of your pulsing cheek at the same time wewe were trying to figure out which excuse fit best for today: wewe ran into my locker? Shaped fist. wewe slip and fell? Into a fist. wewe accidentally set off an explosion in chem. lab? That created a multiple of fist to pummel wewe to the ground. wewe growl at your piss poor excuses, what kind of straight-A slacker were you? Key word: Slacker. Dismissing your horrific imagination and down right shameful excuse as a teenager, wewe slammed the locker shut without grabbing a couple of comics on the way out.
Hallways were as empty as your English teacher’s heart, whom you’re tell mad at for calling Superman a figment of imagination for children. wewe cussed Mrs. Schmidt out to the point of tears and wewe strutted out of class as a quote on quote, ”BAMF” but that was in fantasy. In reality wewe sunk into your chair, hiding your burning while malicious snickers ruffle the air. wewe proceeded down the hallway with your squeaky shoes without noticing the gray skies. Then again wewe were use to the sights of gloomy skies, wewe did live Brooklyn for quite some time before the whole… Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Kansas had those days where it can slay all the Wanyonya damu with just one sweep of the sunny blade. It was strange at first, living in a well-light environment neglecting the fact wewe almost never leave your room when it doesn’t involve school. It was strange because wewe weren’t use to being able to see everything.
Only seeing part of a picture is what wewe use to. Seeing what’s not there is easy for you. Your parent’s kept wewe in the dark about their crumbling marriage, oh were wewe supposed to mention that? Oh, well, now it is an important unlike the paragraph beforehand. Anyways, back to the point, your parents kept secrets from you. It wasn’t until wewe piece together, zaidi like wewe hunted down the divorce papers ironically hidden underneath their wedding video in your mothers weakly guard chest of valuables. After being enlighten at the predicament at hand, wewe were mgawanyiko, baidisha up like a pet: wewe live with wewe dad in Kansas during the school mwaka and wewe live with wewe mom when you’re on vacation. Holidays were every other, except krisimasi and Thanksgiving. wewe normally spend those alone because your parents were somehow always “out of town.”
Slapping your forehead only to yelp out-loud, wewe accidentally ran into someone.
“Hey! I was just coming to get you.” Sincerity took form of a smile on his face but as soon as he caught glimpse of your purple-patched face, sincerity took the back kiti, kiti cha for rage. “What happen? Was it Ivan again?!” He marched forward, feet echoing the classroom.
“Russ, I’m fine!” Instantly wewe hated the sound of your voice, so fake and strain. wewe were worst actor than those damn Disney kids.
“Bullshit, tell me where he is!” He roared right your face, the vein in his neck popping against his tanned skin. “Why does he always pull this shit when I’m not around.”
Because he knows you’ll defend me like some princess.
“I don’t know.” wewe croaked retreating back from uncomfortable position they were in. Now with a good distance between them, 3 steps back, wewe continued, “ who knows and who cares? Let’s just drop it okay?”
Russ snapped his head back in disgust, he snapped,” how many ‘just drop it’ will it take until he does zaidi than this? One thing for sure, I’m done with ‘just dropping it’ when it comes to this asshole. Do wewe understand that? Do wewe understand that I am going to whoop his ass.” wewe flinched, wewe hit a nerve and now wewe regret it. Russ wasn’t the type to lose his cool just like that.
“I’m sorry…” Whimpering as wewe drew back into your shirt, your hand clenching the S-shield charm underneath your shirt. Hoping it’ll give wewe strength to endure this rare rage. “I.. I…” Words fled from your mind, making wewe look like a fool with his mouth wide open.
“No, no…” Exhaling his wrath out, Russ reached out and pats your head down. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, wewe weren’t the one at fault here. Unless wewe ran into his fist.”
“Oh no!” wewe played along with his joke with your damsel voice, “however did wewe know?” wewe gasped while wewe assume the position; the back of your hand pressing down your forehead while wewe clenched a handful of your shirt.
“Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes.” Russ mocked an English accent when he straightens out his posture.
“Bullocks!” wewe stuck your tongue out at him.
Russ and wewe started bursting into laughter at your lame attempt at an English accent; wewe blame your thick Brooklyn accent. An accent that Russ nickname, “Mobster.”
“C’mon let’s go the nurse and clean wewe up.”
“Nope!” wewe dodge, “I’ll do it at home.”
Before any protest, Russ ran to the door and guards it with his soccer-molded body.
“Bloody athletes,” wewe snarled in your horrific Austin Powers accent.
“You have to get through me first.”
Raising a brow over the square-framed glasses, wewe couldn’t believe this guy. Again wewe thank Batman for your cat like movements. wewe swept under his arm and went out the door, leaving nothing zaidi than a small giggle. wewe couldn’t see Russ but something just made wewe want to turn. Following your gut, wewe look over your shoulder to get a mouth full of jacket. wewe stagger back at the sudden force; the koti, jacket fell into your open hands.
“It’s going to rain and I don’t have time to take care of a sick-o.” Russ joked with his head poking out the door. “I’ll stop kwa your house later.”
“Okay.” Already wewe slipped on his large coat.
“Bye Supes!”
“Bye Flash.”
The door swung shut and again wewe were alone. This time wewe manage to escape the school grounds without running into any zaidi people. The rain picked up when wewe hit a crosswalk. Rapidly wewe started to write a lecture wewe will vividly as well as lividly shout, no, tell Russ. What was the point of giving wewe a koti, jacket for the rain when it has no hood? Luckily wewe kept an umbrella in your backpack. Glancing up to check if the red hand turn into a walking man yet, wewe quickly slide your backpack off one shoulder to dig into.
“Yes,” wewe whispered with glee.
To your panic, the umbrella slip out of your hand when someone bump into you. wewe whip your body around to see who it was. Your mind went blank.
“I didn’t see wewe there, my glasses fogged up and I was cleaning it.” His voice, so deep it resonated throughout your body like crashing lightning. Yet wewe listen to his cloying voice but wewe were engaged. His crystal irises webbed wewe in. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and grabbed the umbrella.
“ It’s fine,” wewe wheezed, taking back the umbrella.
His smiled brought all the maidens heads over their heels. Long story short, this guy look like the stereotypical America and damn it, wewe should not be thinking this right now. wewe want to know why?
“Hey, your that guy from behind the ble—“
Before he can finish, wewe beeline out onto the crosswalk dropping your umbrella mid way. Damn, why didn’t wewe notice before wewe started checking him out? That was the blurry guy in the far back!
“Hey! Come back!” He shouted
wewe kept running and running for no reason until wewe reached home. wewe slammed the door open and slammed it shut with your back. The house was pitched black meaning Dad wasn’t nyumbani yet. wewe slide down the door while wewe brought your knees to your chest.
“Oh man.” wewe saw your empty hands, it was then when wewe just notice wewe drop your umbrella. Banging the back of your head on the door at your Lost but mostly your gain au what wewe think you’ll gain.
Grimacing with each bang against the door, wewe dreaded the fact that there might be a new problem brewing. wewe started to ramble in the dark. It was not till the inayofuata morning that nailed it.
Grabbing your Chem. book, your ear twitched at the unexpected squeak beside you. Turning wewe saw the man whom filled wewe thoughts the night before, whether au it was dirty au not that wewe refuse to neither deny nor confirm. He was standing right there, wearing his Letterman: The mark of a football player.
“Hmmm, Vash?” He shyly called out.
Damn, damn, damn, damn. Vash was starting an internal meltdown.
Your knees were starting to buckle underneath the dead weight at the same time your eyes began to blur and mix every thing together like a psychedelic high. Gulping down a fist full of the salty red liquid filling your mouth, wewe started to wonder once more: who was that guy? Fuzzy at first but wewe started to squint your eyes to get a better look. In the far back who was couldn’t act any zaidi obvious. He stood awkwardly with his hands digging in his pockets glancing through the bleachers trying to distract his mind (most of all eyes) from the situation at hand. No doubt he was new and already he sported the school colors but lack the jockey ass’itude. However, it was replace kwa the bystander approach.
Before getting zaidi details on the guy, wewe had your hair violated with intruding fingers. Your head was jerked upwards kwa the brunette roots causing wewe to yelp. It was he, Ivan. He looked at wewe with aroused interest, nothing new about that.
“You’re lucky, sweety.” Ivan breathed into your base of your ear. “Next time, I will…”
“Aye, Ivan, let’s ditch this punk ass. The track team is coming.” A faceless voice barked.
“Y’all head out first,” He commanded.
“All right.”
Like a pack of wolves, they began to dismiss their selves including the mysterious lad as well. wewe brought your attention back to Ivan’s mischievous grin. It ranged from earlobe to earlobe like a Cheshire cat he grinned. wewe kumeza another heap of blood and closed your watering eyes. wewe just want this end. This thunderous clap of agony rippling throughout your body like forest on moto then again why should it end? It’ll only happen the inayofuata encounter with the Cheshire cat and his mbwa mwitu pack. This broken record continue to scratch that ear splitting tune over and over again, yet whenever wewe try to remove the needle to ease the drums of your ear Ivan will pounce in and slap your wrist.
“Until inayofuata time, sweet cheeks.” He leaned forward, crossing the comfortable distance. Quickly wewe whimper at the touch of his lips against yours. “Next time.” Ivan promised, his coarse thumb sweeping under her eye as her peek them open.
As if the time clocked midnight, the ball became empty for the prince. cinderella whisked away without a single word of your inayofuata encounter. The only difference was this was no fairytale; it was an epic poem with no sights of the end. This clichéd plot driven kwa generics. When will this zero become a hero and revenge all the fallen nerds that help wewe raise to your glory?
wewe release a handful of steel from your grip to dry your tears. Biting down your lip wewe try not to release any of your cries for the birds to hear. Releasing another grip, wewe began to limp away from behind the bleachers. For what it seems to be a normal after school.
Thank Batman.
For your undeniable ninja like moves, easily wewe slip through the guy’s locker room (a shortcut) without being detected kwa the-only-athletes-who-uses-a-field-and-actually-have-a-mind-of-their-own soccer players. Feeling somewhat revealed to avoid an encounter with your best pal’s overly protective tendencies; wewe regroup your scattered brain within your fortress of solitude. Ah, wewe mean your locker.
The sweet, sweet comfort of your picture filled locker but wewe couldn’t admire the art for long, wewe needed to clean out the cuts on your face and bust out your back up glasses. Glancing to the side of the locker, your reflection was the only greeting you’ll accept that shady afternoon. wewe wince with each push of your pulsing cheek at the same time wewe were trying to figure out which excuse fit best for today: wewe ran into my locker? Shaped fist. wewe slip and fell? Into a fist. wewe accidentally set off an explosion in chem. lab? That created a multiple of fist to pummel wewe to the ground. wewe growl at your piss poor excuses, what kind of straight-A slacker were you? Key word: Slacker. Dismissing your horrific imagination and down right shameful excuse as a teenager, wewe slammed the locker shut without grabbing a couple of comics on the way out.
Hallways were as empty as your English teacher’s heart, whom you’re tell mad at for calling Superman a figment of imagination for children. wewe cussed Mrs. Schmidt out to the point of tears and wewe strutted out of class as a quote on quote, ”BAMF” but that was in fantasy. In reality wewe sunk into your chair, hiding your burning while malicious snickers ruffle the air. wewe proceeded down the hallway with your squeaky shoes without noticing the gray skies. Then again wewe were use to the sights of gloomy skies, wewe did live Brooklyn for quite some time before the whole… Whatever, that wasn’t important right now. Kansas had those days where it can slay all the Wanyonya damu with just one sweep of the sunny blade. It was strange at first, living in a well-light environment neglecting the fact wewe almost never leave your room when it doesn’t involve school. It was strange because wewe weren’t use to being able to see everything.
Only seeing part of a picture is what wewe use to. Seeing what’s not there is easy for you. Your parent’s kept wewe in the dark about their crumbling marriage, oh were wewe supposed to mention that? Oh, well, now it is an important unlike the paragraph beforehand. Anyways, back to the point, your parents kept secrets from you. It wasn’t until wewe piece together, zaidi like wewe hunted down the divorce papers ironically hidden underneath their wedding video in your mothers weakly guard chest of valuables. After being enlighten at the predicament at hand, wewe were mgawanyiko, baidisha up like a pet: wewe live with wewe dad in Kansas during the school mwaka and wewe live with wewe mom when you’re on vacation. Holidays were every other, except krisimasi and Thanksgiving. wewe normally spend those alone because your parents were somehow always “out of town.”
Slapping your forehead only to yelp out-loud, wewe accidentally ran into someone.
“Hey! I was just coming to get you.” Sincerity took form of a smile on his face but as soon as he caught glimpse of your purple-patched face, sincerity took the back kiti, kiti cha for rage. “What happen? Was it Ivan again?!” He marched forward, feet echoing the classroom.
“Russ, I’m fine!” Instantly wewe hated the sound of your voice, so fake and strain. wewe were worst actor than those damn Disney kids.
“Bullshit, tell me where he is!” He roared right your face, the vein in his neck popping against his tanned skin. “Why does he always pull this shit when I’m not around.”
Because he knows you’ll defend me like some princess.
“I don’t know.” wewe croaked retreating back from uncomfortable position they were in. Now with a good distance between them, 3 steps back, wewe continued, “ who knows and who cares? Let’s just drop it okay?”
Russ snapped his head back in disgust, he snapped,” how many ‘just drop it’ will it take until he does zaidi than this? One thing for sure, I’m done with ‘just dropping it’ when it comes to this asshole. Do wewe understand that? Do wewe understand that I am going to whoop his ass.” wewe flinched, wewe hit a nerve and now wewe regret it. Russ wasn’t the type to lose his cool just like that.
“I’m sorry…” Whimpering as wewe drew back into your shirt, your hand clenching the S-shield charm underneath your shirt. Hoping it’ll give wewe strength to endure this rare rage. “I.. I…” Words fled from your mind, making wewe look like a fool with his mouth wide open.
“No, no…” Exhaling his wrath out, Russ reached out and pats your head down. “I shouldn’t have done that to you, wewe weren’t the one at fault here. Unless wewe ran into his fist.”
“Oh no!” wewe played along with his joke with your damsel voice, “however did wewe know?” wewe gasped while wewe assume the position; the back of your hand pressing down your forehead while wewe clenched a handful of your shirt.
“Sir, I am Sherlock Holmes.” Russ mocked an English accent when he straightens out his posture.
“Bullocks!” wewe stuck your tongue out at him.
Russ and wewe started bursting into laughter at your lame attempt at an English accent; wewe blame your thick Brooklyn accent. An accent that Russ nickname, “Mobster.”
“C’mon let’s go the nurse and clean wewe up.”
“Nope!” wewe dodge, “I’ll do it at home.”
Before any protest, Russ ran to the door and guards it with his soccer-molded body.
“Bloody athletes,” wewe snarled in your horrific Austin Powers accent.
“You have to get through me first.”
Raising a brow over the square-framed glasses, wewe couldn’t believe this guy. Again wewe thank Batman for your cat like movements. wewe swept under his arm and went out the door, leaving nothing zaidi than a small giggle. wewe couldn’t see Russ but something just made wewe want to turn. Following your gut, wewe look over your shoulder to get a mouth full of jacket. wewe stagger back at the sudden force; the koti, jacket fell into your open hands.
“It’s going to rain and I don’t have time to take care of a sick-o.” Russ joked with his head poking out the door. “I’ll stop kwa your house later.”
“Okay.” Already wewe slipped on his large coat.
“Bye Supes!”
“Bye Flash.”
The door swung shut and again wewe were alone. This time wewe manage to escape the school grounds without running into any zaidi people. The rain picked up when wewe hit a crosswalk. Rapidly wewe started to write a lecture wewe will vividly as well as lividly shout, no, tell Russ. What was the point of giving wewe a koti, jacket for the rain when it has no hood? Luckily wewe kept an umbrella in your backpack. Glancing up to check if the red hand turn into a walking man yet, wewe quickly slide your backpack off one shoulder to dig into.
“Yes,” wewe whispered with glee.
To your panic, the umbrella slip out of your hand when someone bump into you. wewe whip your body around to see who it was. Your mind went blank.
“I didn’t see wewe there, my glasses fogged up and I was cleaning it.” His voice, so deep it resonated throughout your body like crashing lightning. Yet wewe listen to his cloying voice but wewe were engaged. His crystal irises webbed wewe in. “I’m sorry.” He reached down and grabbed the umbrella.
“ It’s fine,” wewe wheezed, taking back the umbrella.
His smiled brought all the maidens heads over their heels. Long story short, this guy look like the stereotypical America and damn it, wewe should not be thinking this right now. wewe want to know why?
“Hey, your that guy from behind the ble—“
Before he can finish, wewe beeline out onto the crosswalk dropping your umbrella mid way. Damn, why didn’t wewe notice before wewe started checking him out? That was the blurry guy in the far back!
“Hey! Come back!” He shouted
wewe kept running and running for no reason until wewe reached home. wewe slammed the door open and slammed it shut with your back. The house was pitched black meaning Dad wasn’t nyumbani yet. wewe slide down the door while wewe brought your knees to your chest.
“Oh man.” wewe saw your empty hands, it was then when wewe just notice wewe drop your umbrella. Banging the back of your head on the door at your Lost but mostly your gain au what wewe think you’ll gain.
Grimacing with each bang against the door, wewe dreaded the fact that there might be a new problem brewing. wewe started to ramble in the dark. It was not till the inayofuata morning that nailed it.
Grabbing your Chem. book, your ear twitched at the unexpected squeak beside you. Turning wewe saw the man whom filled wewe thoughts the night before, whether au it was dirty au not that wewe refuse to neither deny nor confirm. He was standing right there, wearing his Letterman: The mark of a football player.
“Hmmm, Vash?” He shyly called out.
Damn, damn, damn, damn. Vash was starting an internal meltdown.
Alias: Arwin
Age: 16
Occupation/Alliance: Hero
Appearance: Long black hair, machungwa, chungwa eyes, 5' 5"
Powers/skills/weapons: powers over the element earth, martial arts, and her family heir loom (a magic staff)
Personality: Withdrawn, optimistic, kind, brave, courageous, shy, cynical, hard-working, loyal
History: After being aliyopewa into the care of her grandparents without warning Lana's parents mysteriously went missing. Lana discovered their family heir loom when she went looking for her parents a mwaka later. She took the heir loom into her possesion after kusoma a note left with the heir loom kwa her parents. When she was fifteen she left her grandparents to train her powers. After training for three years and discovering many things Lana returned to her grandparent's house to find them gone. From that point on Lana decided that secrets only killed people rather than kept the safe.