A letter had been sent out by the Academy, an instructor issued the notification, to Honma Kotone and Samejima Naoki. Whatever their address may be, these letters would arrive to those designated. If opened, the letter would read:
A rather ominous and vague invitation, something that felt a little awkward. The little poppet held the piece of crisp white in her hand, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet - blanketed in furry slippers - and moved through her tiny accommodation, designed for one, and into her bed; throwing back the covers and face planting against the week-old sheets. It was silly o'clock and she did not feel the urge to do anything other than rest her eyes, the birds hadn't even started singing their songs - they wouldn't anyway, considering the city was settled beneath rock and sand. Kotone kicked the blanket, quite impressively, enabling it to land on, most, of her night gown body. "You won't let me go, fluffy." Kotone spoke to her bed with affection, a muffled voice from the overly soft pillow. But, as one would expect, slumber took over and the young poppet fell back asleep.
The sound of an alarm began to ululate through the room, its constant buzz became quite unsettling and fracturing to those who were unfortunate to hear it. Kotone gave the little black box with red highlights a death stare before pushing it off the bedside table, satisfied at its immediate dismissal of any sounds. However, the realisation that this little poppet had to get ready for her first Academy mission loomed over her restful little head. With her head planted into the pillow, she groaned like a hungry lion cub, before sliding out from her fort of comfort and away to the bathroom; so the day would begin. The young poppet would do her daily routine, and dress herself before heading to the front door - keys would jingle before the door unlocked, and opened, releasing a burst of 'fresh' air.
Sometime after her morning routine, Kotone moved to the Grand Palais; the place where most crime took place, to be fair. The dirty and unpleasant streets housed some of the worst type of people in Sand, at least that's what the village would have you believe. The Palais housed the poorest, the vulnerable, not the evil. However, those who were corrupt did often manipulate the vulnerable to do their bidding, or most commonly to join gangs. She would await under the Broken Moon, a busted down, dilapidated pub; typical. She folded her arms and awaited for something to happen.
A rather ominous and vague invitation, something that felt a little awkward. The little poppet held the piece of crisp white in her hand, rubbing her eyes as she dragged her feet - blanketed in furry slippers - and moved through her tiny accommodation, designed for one, and into her bed; throwing back the covers and face planting against the week-old sheets. It was silly o'clock and she did not feel the urge to do anything other than rest her eyes, the birds hadn't even started singing their songs - they wouldn't anyway, considering the city was settled beneath rock and sand. Kotone kicked the blanket, quite impressively, enabling it to land on, most, of her night gown body. "You won't let me go, fluffy." Kotone spoke to her bed with affection, a muffled voice from the overly soft pillow. But, as one would expect, slumber took over and the young poppet fell back asleep.
The sound of an alarm began to ululate through the room, its constant buzz became quite unsettling and fracturing to those who were unfortunate to hear it. Kotone gave the little black box with red highlights a death stare before pushing it off the bedside table, satisfied at its immediate dismissal of any sounds. However, the realisation that this little poppet had to get ready for her first Academy mission loomed over her restful little head. With her head planted into the pillow, she groaned like a hungry lion cub, before sliding out from her fort of comfort and away to the bathroom; so the day would begin. The young poppet would do her daily routine, and dress herself before heading to the front door - keys would jingle before the door unlocked, and opened, releasing a burst of 'fresh' air.
Sometime after her morning routine, Kotone moved to the Grand Palais; the place where most crime took place, to be fair. The dirty and unpleasant streets housed some of the worst type of people in Sand, at least that's what the village would have you believe. The Palais housed the poorest, the vulnerable, not the evil. However, those who were corrupt did often manipulate the vulnerable to do their bidding, or most commonly to join gangs. She would await under the Broken Moon, a busted down, dilapidated pub; typical. She folded her arms and awaited for something to happen.
