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"The Mouse that Roared" Welcome to the Windermere Institute Database, v5.2. Password? ******* Password cleared. User K_KAREN Authorized. Please enter command: StudID#011009774 Searching.... Search complete. View File? y Confirmed Student ID#011009774
The train had taken longer than she thought it would. Not that it was noisy or anything - goodness, no. Daigo wouldn't stand for that. Only first class for his baby sister Akira, with waiters who brought drinks and a nice view and larger seats and a lunch that didn't taste as if it had been reheated thrice in a broken toaster over. Which was pretty bad, actually - she should know, they'd done it when they were kids and things were a little leaner. Or alot leaner. Whatever. Thank all things holy for the advent of popular methamphetamines, and for Daigo's sense to get in on a new trend. His new career had gotten them out of tenement housing. But he still seemed to feel like he needed to protect her, and there wasn't anything that Akira Kazama wouldn't do for her big brother. Even if the large seats did make her feel uncomfortable, and the queries of the waiters doubly so. It wouldn't do to let him know she hadn't eaten a thing, or that the view didn't really matter when she was trying to drown out the crowd with her discman and some vaguely top-fourty rock. Would do even less to let him know how little she was looking forward to this. Almost there now, the uncommonly green scenery cried in her brother's rough baritone. Almost to your new home, where you can make some friends and calm down after all that excitement with Justice Academy. Yes, I'm very proud of you. Yes, I always knew you could do it. I'm just trying to help you out. No use you ending up like me. If Mom was around you'd be a real lady by now - but I've been holding you back, eh? Don't worry, you'll love it. All girls, nothing to be shy about. They'll even let you bring your bike to Windermere! And you don't belong at a shithole like Gedo anyways... It shouldn't feel like he was sending her into a very comfortable exile, Akira knew. He was just trying to do what was best for her. He was just trying to be nice. The brochures had made a glossy contrast to their perpetually messy apartment. The urban landscape had by this time given way to a rich emerald countryside, and the train soon slowed to a halt. Yet it took more than a deep breath to raise herself out of the plush chair, relieve the back of the thing of a metal-studded leather jacket, and grab her shoulderbag. Akira Kazama did not like the unfamiliar. Campus: Windermere Institute Japan If there was one thing that Akira liked less than change, it was direct questioning. Or perhaps crowds, but that didn't really apply in this case. There's been a woman to meet her at the station - a bouncing, gregarious sort with one of the school's vans. Which normally wouldn't have been bad, except this particular lady wanted to talk on the ride in. Talk. Not good. "So are you looking foreword to meeting your new classmates? Windermere Japan has almost five thousand students, you know... and that's not counting all the girls in on exchange from our eight other campuses! I'm sure you'll make lots of friends. I know it must be hard on you to leave all your old schoolmates behind, hmmm?' "....mmm-hmmm," Akira managed to breath, hoping to be able to sink further into the backing of the shotgun seat. "I must say though, what a daring jacket that is! Biker chic? Is that what they're selling down in Tokyo these days? And leather pants.. my goodness. Well, the times they do change! Where did you get them?" ".... Tokyo, yes," well, not really, but the less she had to say to the walking smile the better. "Oh, I see," the lady seemed a little put off, but a turn 'round the back road's corner revealed her not ready to give up just yet, " well you'll have to change into your uniform once we get you settled! Soooo.. leave any boys behind?" The woman winked. Akira involuntarily flushed, " No." Edge and Gan, being more like Daigo's lackeys and her sort-of friends than real guys, hardly counted. Akira... Akira just didn't talk to guys. "Oh. Well, we might be having a formal in the next few months.. a pretty young thing like you is sure to find someone! Oh look, there's the gate. Welcome to Windermere! " Indeed, an secured entrance was opened via intercom, and brick and iron walls passed through to reveal a sprawling stretch of parkland. A few girls on horseback could be seen in the distance practicing their jumps on a ludicrously short lawn, and there was nary an out of place weed in sight. Ahead was also a cluster of brick Victorian style buildings - as per the Windermere tradition, if not cultural compliance with the host nation - stood awaiting their arrival in a semicircle. Kind of like a gaping maw. She hoped her bike was okay. "Isn't it gorgeous? Why I was just saying the other day to.." Akira Kazama was somewhat scared of perky people. They always wanted to talk to you, and she'd never understood exactly what kept them going on that way. Sort of creepy. Status: placement: fourth secondary form
They'd ushered the student into her assigned assistant-headmistress' office. Sun-dappled, tastefully decorated.. it was everything that one would expect an assistant-headmistress' office to be. Not that Akira, who had been hastily rushed into a bathroom and subsequently a 'decent' school uniform could make out what the woman herself looked like. At the moment the hardwood floor was looking much more interesting than the authority figure in question - a Ms. Takatori-Phelps. "Miss Kazama, welcome. I have your timetable here, though we've substituted the Arts 4-30 class you requested for Special Projects 4-100." She had a stern voice. Akira could feel herself shrink. There was so much pressure when people wanted to talk to you, and she never had anything interesting saying to say, and... "May I ask why, Ma'am?" The floor really was very nice. "It has come to our attention that you have quite the interest in motorcycles, Miss Kazama. Your brother mentioned that you are already quite experienced in their design and use. I believe you have previous work experience as a mechanic?" What? No, Daigo wouldn't have.. surely they didn't want someone like that in... "Yes, but..." the brunette nodded slowly. "Not to worry, dear," the reaction which reached ears, if not half-closed eyes, was a brisk, businesslike piece of work. Not like the teachers at Gedo, who spent most of their time fearing for their lives. " Windermere is not as stodgy as it might seem! We encourage all of our students to develop their greatest talents despite what tradition might dictate - everything from scholars of metaphysics to computer hackers. Girls here reach their full potential. It is why we are considered one of the premiere educational institutes in the world." The floor was very clean too, and hope against all hopes.... "I... I get to study mechanics? ... thank you!" This was amazing! With real facilities instead of whatever Mr.Fujishima decided to let her have after hours the student might play around with the shock suspension, retouch the back fenders, maybe even figure out how to re-wire... The last thing that the mechanic was thinking about was how very little sense this made. "Not to worry," Akira was startled to attention by the return of the voice, and found herself handed some cream-colored stationary emblazoned with a time chart and the school logo that she herself was now wearing. A pretty coat of arms, all blue and grey and black and white and emblazoned with a swan stretching it's wings. " Now get outside - we have some orientation activities going on in the courtyard. " Akira wasn't a big fan of pretty, and less of a fan of large social gatherings. If only she could check out to mechanics facilities.. maybe see if the teacher was familiar with the newest... "Yes Ma'am." Defying authority only got one into trouble, though, even if one had to wince at what one was about to do. On her way down the narrow stairs to a courtyard entrance Akira's knee-length grey tweed skirt clung stubbornly to legs sporting black nylons and patent leather shoes. Her real leather - the pants and the jacket - had been removed by a porter along with her beloved camoflage tank-top. Edge would have laughed at her in this getup, and there was a draft travelling up her legs even now. A scowl marked the student's face as she made her descent. Akira hated skirts. But mechanics.. it might be worth that. Maybe. Medical: Birth Defects - none
"Quick! You'll miss the game!" A rather burly looking woman was gesturing that Akira dash towards a large circle of girls very much like herself. Well, except for the the fact that they were smiling and giggling and pretty much at ease, while Akira was fighting some sort of primal instinct to run and hide. "Dodgeball - c'mon! Your on the team inside the circle." Akira did a halfhearted dash across the lawn, trying to unslump her shoulders and halfway failing. Hopefully this would be over soon. Why was everyone here so.. happy? Guess they must have been here before, already friends now.. Inwardly, the mechanic sighed. Making her way inside a circle of girls filled with the same, Akira prepared for the worst. The worst being, of course, team sports. Three. Two. One. And the whistle sounded, with forty students armed with medicine balls attempting to take out another twenty of their number. Most of them didn't stand a chance for more than a minute of twists and turns under the barrage, and targets were eliminated. All, of course, but the one who would least like to be the object of their sights, stuck alone in the middle of a rung of her peers. Akira supposed that there was no harm in playing a little longer if she was stuck here... Left and right, back and forth, hither and thither they crisscrossed her path as the former gang member had the best martial arts practice she'd gotten in weeks. Duck, dodge, weave, handspring, and she no longer felt the myriad of eyes upon her. As the danger grew greater so did her efforts - one handed backflips segueing into a sideways cartwheel merging to become a sidestep of a roll with no end in sight. Until five minutes later a panting Akira was called to a halt and back to reality by a sharp whistle, and came to the uncomfortable realization that she may or may not have flashed half of her new classmates. Skirts were very impractical. And when half glared and the other burst into applause, it was with more than a little consternation that Akira realized she was never getting out of PhysTraining class now. "I.. umm.. I should go find my room now.. th-thanks very much.." "Excellent job! You, kid, are gonna be giving us a demo next week." Oh no.... Time to beat a hasty retreat to the indoors. "Hey kid! Where ya going?"
Residence: Kanzaki Residential Hall Rm. 3-104
3-104 was on the top floor. A corner suite and meticulously cleaned like most everything on the all-female campus. Oak door, brass knob, eggshell walls, and.... "Hello," a cross-looking girl within, who had set up camp on the bed farther from the window, and closer to the heating vent. "He-hello.. my name is.." "Akira Kazama," the long-haired girl's eyes narrowed, " I know. Reiko Mishima, if you haven't heard of me already. I don't appreciate having to share a room this semester." Hmmm? Oh no.. the mechanic's gaze fell from the tall, slim student and back to the floor. Again hardwood. "I-I'm sorry." "Then be quiet. The less I know you're here, the better," smirking, Reiko withdrew an expensive-looking Versace blouse from the bag she was unpacking. What gave her the right to say that!? Akira was just trying to be nice. There was no call to be rude to ... "Well? Aren't you unpacking? Or do you plan to just stand there all day?" Reiko's' black-eyed glare pinned Akira to the proverbial sticking-plate, draining away any vestigial desire that the shy girl might have to let her roommate know exactly what she thought of...... "I-I have to go pick something up." Akira was angry. Akira felt badly. Akira had had hopes for this - she didn't meet many new people. Akira needed... "Whatever. Hey, bring me back more hangers!" "Yes. C-certainly. Whatever you need." Interests: - Mechanics
Akira Kazama was not a stupid girl. Perhaps not so gifted as to be counted among the intellectual giants of the Windermere Institute, but observant enough to be aware of one very salient fact. It was attracting attention. The first thing that one noticed upon entering the academy, you see, was the complete femininity of it all. Everyone in formal dresses, all the world an advertisement for subtly floral wallpaper and quality potpourri. Bookshelves and surprisingly real plants were littered throughout the hallways, although the metaphor could not be extended to actual garbage. Beiges, pastels, and the rich grain of wood combined to form an old-world arena for the education of the richest and most talented girls it could attract. And attract it did - the pampered, the coddled, the moneyed, and the just-plain-brilliant. Akira Kazama did not especially fall into any of these categories, although she supposed that her dear older brother pulled in a fortune or two a month shaking down or supplying drug dealers, offering 'protection', and fencing stolen goods. All for the order of the school, of course. One could hope to control the criminal element of Gedo high about as much as one could hope to halt a hurricane with a wall of toothpicks. Better to at least channel the energies of the students in a manner that would get the least number of them killed fighting each other. Of course, these people would not know that. About the blood money, that is. Kazama was a common enough name, and Akira rarely spoke it anyways. Nay, it was the less flesh and blood object of her affection which was attracting the stares of the peacocks and the owls. Something so utterly foreign to the atmosphere of the academy that one could but wonder why they had admitted one suited to it at all. They gazed upon naught but an extremely customized, one-of-a-kind, top of the line hybrid between a Yamaha YZF-R1 and several other mongrel parts of the Suzuki and Honda persuasion. Black and silver and red with the requisite flame motif painted on the sides - Daigo had given her that helmet for her birthday - as well as the best tires money could buy. A beautiful, fascinating, temperamental creature entirely of Akira's own creation. Though the girls didn't know this. The ones that were looking - and Akira was sure that someone must be looking - probably just thought it was weird. Strange. Alien. Just like Akira. But at least it had arrived at the gate intact. Maybe while the girl was walking it towards the specially-procured parking space in the school's garage she could even disappear behind the hulking thing. If she was very, very lucky.... Though it was not terribly likely, given how red her cheeks had gone.
Further Notes: n/a add Please type further notes. Akira Kazama hereby selected designate candidate for the SP Project.
SP Project Selection justified on: - physical ability
That Reiko person... ugh. But Akira wouldn't dare ask Daigo for a private room. he was already paying so much for her to be here.... And the garage made it all better. The smell of oil and grease and a few compounds that Akira probably could have named, had she dwelled on the stench long enough. It was the sort of smell one hates until one day one wakes up head-over-heels in love with it. Well lit and with the latest hydraulic equipment.. surely there hadn't been students like her here before.. had there? This flourescent-lit cavern of a garage must be for the campus vehicles or something - the mechanic had been surprised that she had been accepted with her interests at all. This didn't seem like a tomboy kind of place.... She'd always just sort of assumed that Diago had gotten one of his people to forge her records. There were jumpsuits here and there - Windermere's prussian blue, naturally - with a healthy dose of tools on the back wall. Parts were filed away neatly on steel shelves, and there was nary an oil stain in sight on the concrete rough beneath her feet. These shoes were too delicate for a place like this. Quietly marveling, she removed her heeled little prisons and slipped on the leather boots with steel guards that had come in the duffel Daigo had included with her precious. Daigo was so nice to her. Another pair of leather pants followed - that comfort must be left for later, getting caught half-naked by some campus mechanic would make her day even worse. Then came her beloved jacket, which must have been stashed by the porter with the rest of her bike gear. Good man. That at least would fit loosely over this uniform; she could even slip on her tank under the baggy Windermere blouse. And finally her helmet. Shining under the cold blue track lighting like it had been polished yesterday. Which it had. A skull grinned back at her, one silver eye staring outward while the other socket made for an abyss. She'd done some pretty wild things in this helmet. Commandeered her brother's gang, gone after the brainwashing psychopaths at Justice Academy, and helped to take down the Burning Justice Project. Run with the wolves, she had.. almost a completely different person. It was why she was here, to get her back on the strait and narrow. Daigo didn't need to say as much. It would be nice to go riding tonight. Slipping on the bit of headgear, Akira opened the garage shutter once more and hopped on her steed. Purred like a kitten, her precious - a familiar vibration. The darkness necessitate flipping on of the headlights, and in such illumination one could see something different about the girl. Her gaze was strait ahead, burning through mirrored plexiglass. Shoulders straitened, stance opened, and she might have easily gained half an inch in straitened posture alone. Her steed roared under her touch. Had to warm the engine up. And then.... "Hey! What do you think you're doing on a campus like this!" Then Reiko Mishima came flouncing by, here evening makeup done for goodness who she was trying to impress. "Get out of my way." Kazama responded. It wasn't a question. "I asked you a question. Do you want me to call security? Because I can call..." "I said," with her voice gone a solid alto from the timid rasp it once had been, Kazama let her beloved engine go free. Reiko, caught like a deer in the literal headlights, was reduced to a squeak when the machine stopped just an inch before her legs. The rider leaned over steel handlebars, eyes at level with Reiko 's own "Get out of my way." A gloved hand grasped the front of the schoolgirl's blouse, pulling the student's face to the skirted rider's eye level. "Now," a deceptively calm threat. "Y-yeah." And as Reiko disappeared into the night, so did Kazama.. alebeit much faster, much farther, and with a blue moon in her eyes. Notes added. Further commands? Designate StudID#011009774 file classified. Security lock K_KAREN File security locked to User K_KAREN. Running encryption... Encrypted. Further commands? Quit |