Post by shichibi on Mar 29, 2009 14:49:29 GMT -5
Spring was taking over the air and people were more and more taking buisness outside.The sky was very blue, only a few touches of clouds gracing the infinate space above. In the middle of a shoping district was a small coveted pavillion, with architectural roots dating back to feudal japan, which was one of the near only comfortable spots to sit. It was just a few steps away from a tea shop making it a wonderful place to congregate. Most all seats were taken by teens and young adults of the type sitting away chatting with eachother about things most of them would forget the next mourn.
Mugen sat in the far back left corner of the area, a small two seater table, his feet propped up on the unoccupied chair across from him. The shrouded senior sat there, covered in his red and black wraps even on this gorgeous day, staring down at a complicated aria, on top of a black folder, marking it with a pencil only to stop to take a sip of a white cup containing sweet jasmine tea.
He wouldn't speak, as nobody was there to speak to. He wasn't the type of person to dictate his thoughts out loud either. Mugen gently placed his cup down, circling something and writing a few symbols around a phrase. He hummed short portions to only audiate it to himself so he could be sure to mark properly. Suddenly he got that feeling everyone got every once in a while. Eyes. Mugen peered up to see a table of younger people, perhaps sophomores of freshman, looking back over their shoulder as if his buisness was their's. He stared back casually as they felt uncomfortable and went back to gossip. Of course they would speak of him, but he didn't care. His buisness wasn't theirs', and their's wern't his. He chuckled a bit at their sophmoric behavior ironicaly fitting their status shaking his head softly going back to his work with his cup of tea.
Mugen sat in the far back left corner of the area, a small two seater table, his feet propped up on the unoccupied chair across from him. The shrouded senior sat there, covered in his red and black wraps even on this gorgeous day, staring down at a complicated aria, on top of a black folder, marking it with a pencil only to stop to take a sip of a white cup containing sweet jasmine tea.
He wouldn't speak, as nobody was there to speak to. He wasn't the type of person to dictate his thoughts out loud either. Mugen gently placed his cup down, circling something and writing a few symbols around a phrase. He hummed short portions to only audiate it to himself so he could be sure to mark properly. Suddenly he got that feeling everyone got every once in a while. Eyes. Mugen peered up to see a table of younger people, perhaps sophomores of freshman, looking back over their shoulder as if his buisness was their's. He stared back casually as they felt uncomfortable and went back to gossip. Of course they would speak of him, but he didn't care. His buisness wasn't theirs', and their's wern't his. He chuckled a bit at their sophmoric behavior ironicaly fitting their status shaking his head softly going back to his work with his cup of tea.