#ch openpost

Yeah he'll rather be a loner, that subject himself to the strain of meeting knew people. Though he will miss having people to lead around like he did in his old school. Oh well he'll get used to it, it's not the first time he's been alone.

Being engrossed in his book and inner thoughts caused Hanamiya to not pay attention to his surroundings. Therefore he didn't see the person that was about to collide with him until it was too late.

Sitting by himself in the cafeteria, Judal sighed heavily. He's been at this school for a while now, but he hasn't met people that has really caught his eye...minus a select few. However, he was even growing bored of just hanging around them all the time. Something that evident in the way he leaned on the table, bored expression in place.

Judal needs constant entertainment. He needs someone new to torture...becomes friends with he means. Someone that doesn't know all his tricks and habits, so he can get some thorough fun of breaking in someone new. 

Yeah that's what he wanted. The sad thing was, that it didn't seem like anyone wanted to mess with him. Of course he could just select a random person at whim, but where was the fun in that? People were suppose to flock to him, not the other way around. 

"Hmmm."

The blond teen stood in the middle of the school courtyard, looking down at the nice and clean concrete. This might have seemed some what normal, except for the fact that it was late in the night and no one was around.

In his hand he held a flashlight, which was currently giving him the means to look around. In his other had, Sting held a back pack that was filled with art supplies, mostly side walk chalk, rulers, and anything else he thought he might need for his little project.

With another quick glance around, Sting got down and started to pour out his supplies, grabbing for the white chalk and his ruler. He placed the flashlight at an angle that could give him some light and started to sketch out the begging lines of his art.

With his usual gait, Mikoto strolled down the hall of Charisma. An unlit cigarette was hanging off his lips while his hands were fully stuffed in his jean pockets.

He was currently pondering what he should do. After being a teacher for almost over a month, Mikoto hasn't actually done anything. Sighing, he removed the unused cigarette from his mouth, twiddling it between his fingers.

“ . . . “

Cheren sat in the library quietly, rapidly filling line after line in the notebook before him. There were several books sitting on the desk he sat at, some of them open, while others were stacked at the side, not being his main focus at the moment.

He was trying his hand at songwriting, and had managed to find a decent book on it. Cheren, being his studios self, read as much of the book as he could stand before he wanted to put the material to use.

 It had taken him a bit over an hour before he felt he was done scraping putting together what he thought might make a reasonable song, but when we read over it, something didn't feel right.

He knew he was new at this, and this was only a draft, but there was this nagging doubt in the back of his mind: something telling him that he should start from scratch.