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hummingthebaseline[It seems someone doesn't like the Campus' hired decorator, because the entire building, inside and out, has a new coat of paint this morning. Graffiti of all kinds is sprayed seemingly randomly all along the outside and inside of the building, and that may even be a tree with a tag at the top, too. There's something distinctly strange about the graffiti as well, for those who actually pay attention to it. As if it's got an energy of its own, somehow, despite being paint.
For those who are awake earlier in the day or can be woken up by the noise and quick enough, they might be able to catch sight of a young teenager in a blue hoodie with bright green hair.
Otherwise, later in the day when the sun's properly up, said kid can be found sitting on one of the air vents on the roof, tapping his skates against the side of it to a beat unknown by any but him.
Yoyo honestly had no idea what the fuck, to be utterly frank. He had been in Tokyo-to, about to race Beat, and then suddenly he'd crashed full-on into the wall of the Nurse's office, freaking out the nurse there until he managed to smooth-talk her back to calm. She'd told him a couple of things -- something about this place being a "Campus" -- and he'd left to try to actually get his bearings.
What he'd found out wasn't comforting. Namely, that there was something distinctly wrong with this place.
Like in Tokyo-to, he could feel the Campus had a soul of its own, of sorts, but it was all sorts of wrong. Its "beat" was off a couple of notes, and unlike Tokyo-to -- which always felt alive and thrumming -- this place almost felt dead, like a half-beaten creature that continued to drag itself along. It just wasn't right. Corrupted somehow, but Yoyo didn't know how or how to fix it.
He's thankful, at least, that the Campus' soul still seems alive enough to manifest, which the floating paint cans around the area invisible to all but his eyes can attest to; that was half the reason he'd sprayed so much graffiti around earlier, both to test to see if the cans worked like they should (they had) and to see if it somehow revived the Campus' soul (it hadn't). At least it meant he wasn't limited to the 30 cans he brought; even if he didn't understand how they came with him outside of the city, he was not going to expend the small piece of Tokyo-to's soul he had with him unless he absolutely had to.
Above all else about this place, though, there was one major complaint he had.]
Man! There's no radio stations here!
For those who are awake earlier in the day or can be woken up by the noise and quick enough, they might be able to catch sight of a young teenager in a blue hoodie with bright green hair.
Otherwise, later in the day when the sun's properly up, said kid can be found sitting on one of the air vents on the roof, tapping his skates against the side of it to a beat unknown by any but him.
Yoyo honestly had no idea what the fuck, to be utterly frank. He had been in Tokyo-to, about to race Beat, and then suddenly he'd crashed full-on into the wall of the Nurse's office, freaking out the nurse there until he managed to smooth-talk her back to calm. She'd told him a couple of things -- something about this place being a "Campus" -- and he'd left to try to actually get his bearings.
What he'd found out wasn't comforting. Namely, that there was something distinctly wrong with this place.
Like in Tokyo-to, he could feel the Campus had a soul of its own, of sorts, but it was all sorts of wrong. Its "beat" was off a couple of notes, and unlike Tokyo-to -- which always felt alive and thrumming -- this place almost felt dead, like a half-beaten creature that continued to drag itself along. It just wasn't right. Corrupted somehow, but Yoyo didn't know how or how to fix it.
He's thankful, at least, that the Campus' soul still seems alive enough to manifest, which the floating paint cans around the area invisible to all but his eyes can attest to; that was half the reason he'd sprayed so much graffiti around earlier, both to test to see if the cans worked like they should (they had) and to see if it somehow revived the Campus' soul (it hadn't). At least it meant he wasn't limited to the 30 cans he brought; even if he didn't understand how they came with him outside of the city, he was not going to expend the small piece of Tokyo-to's soul he had with him unless he absolutely had to.
Above all else about this place, though, there was one major complaint he had.]
Man! There's no radio stations here!
