Gotterverdammt! || OPEN

[Clara Rosewood]

"This..." Clara trailed off while making a single, common word sound like a curse. Her eyes narrowed in real frustration as a familiar sensation washed over her. "...is not the library," she bit the ends of her words as she voiced the same sentence she had at least three times prior. The cafeteria had not been the library. The band room had not been the library. And the boy's dorm had defiantly not been the library. This 'getting lost' was becoming old hat. She tensely bit her lower lip unable to scream: Where the hell am I!? A nice loud scream would have been a fantastic way to relieve some stress, but is that how she really wanted to make her first impression at Hammel? Probably not. No, the correct thing to do was to approach a student or instructor and politely ask for directions. So... she just needed to find someone, right?

Gymnasiums were universally all the same. They smelled of sweat and plastics. The air was filled with the sounds of competitive shouting and the squeak of sneakers. And without fail, there was always the one kid in the corner pissy about life in general, wanted to fight the powers that be, and opt out of gym class. Clara had been that kid once, but truthfully she just didn't want the climb up some silly rope or try and break her ankles playing kickball. It wasn't the time to be reminiscing the days of her recently ended school life. She had to find the library and report for work. She was already a quarter of an hour late. With a poorly drawn map between her two hands, Clara the frumpy young woman she was, edged toward an official looking man. There was a rather intense basketball game going and she figured that her business should be make quick.

“Ah-- excu--” but before she could even utter a real question the man she intended to ask began to adamantly shouting at one of the basketballers. She ended her sentence with a quick but internal, Ugh. Nevermind, I guess. Feeling a heavy sense of defeat, in more way than one, Clara abandoned her hopes of finding the library. For the moment at least. Clara made her way to the bleachers to have a seat. What had started out as such a hopeful day was turning into one of despair. She had eaten a balanced breakfast and dressed for success! Well, at least her definition of success. A large mustard yellow sweat overlaid an even larger dress shirt. Paired with black shorts and a matching black neck-ribbon and shoes. To her, it really was the perfect combination of fun and professional. A ball of anger and depression was setting heavy in her stomach, maybe if she watched the game she might calm down. Vicariously venting her emotions and all.

She had never been into sports all that much. Although, she was a sucker for racket games like squash, tennis, and badminton. But running around and throwing balls at one another? Not really her thing. Too much room for error. She stepped up the first couple rows of bleachers, but found she was not satisfied. Higher. Go a little higher! Two more rows and then another followed. Yes,finally, she was up high enough. Clara turned to shimmy her way across the foot-way only to trip on her own shoelaces like an utter ass. She fell while making a kind of shocked whew-aaah-oooh sound. She managed to catch herself but not before cracking her forehead on the seat of the bench.

“Gotterverdammt!”

She had managed to exclaim in pain just loud enough to trump a basketball team. Eyes fell on her from all around the gym. She couldn't see anyone looking at her, rather she felt it. So, Clara did what any girl would do. Her face lit up as red as the mark on her forehead, she sat herself up on the bench, and pretended it hadn't happened at all. But gotterverdammt her head hurt!

[/justify]


tags;; anyone!
words;; 675
notes;; she really only swears in german...

[Therru Simmons]

If there was one thing Therru hated it was large groups of people, and gym class qualified as large group squared. She wasn't too fond of the teacher who was currently yelling his head off, but then again she was far enough away that it didn't really matter. All the way at the top with her sketchbook covering the page with inked black feathers and curled script in a few choice phrases her father often said. No, they weren't expletives, but short phrases in German that her always said. She had managed to stay out of the floor games today by feigning sickness. Since she was already pale and quiet the teacher was easilly enough fooled. And although she didn't really decieve others often she couldn't stand the thought of being out in that group of people on that unnatural floor moving around like that and having to wear shoes. Her worst enemy. The flipflops she wore to class sat neatly beneath the seat she was at, letting her long toes curl around the seat in front of her. Therru sighed as someone said something on the floor below and let her head drift back into her feather filled pictures. A poem was taking form across the page and she just let it come, leaking across the smooth page word by word.

She didn't notice the thin young woman moving up and it wasn't really a surprise the woman didn't notice her. Therru just exuded an air of unnoticable-ness. It was a surprise when only a few minutes later she shouted a word that was surprisingly familiar. How many times had her father shouted that very same word when he stubbed a toe or some such thing
? Too many to count. So while the memory still warmed her and she felt brave enough to speak first Therru made a quick decision to see if the other person was okay.

" Umm, are you well?" Her voice was soft but clear, seeing as for a few moments the gym became silent. The woman was really quite loud. Then the teacher called everyone back to attention and the chatter resumed to a normal level and then to a level of loud as the game began to heat up once more. It seemed that the little interruption wasn't going to bother them. No one really wanted to trudge up to the top anyway to see if the lady was okay, so Therru supposed she would have to do. Oh dear. What would Oba do? she wondered, trying to figure out what should come next in this line of speaking first.