Yelling Match! (Minato!)

Day one after her transfer to the school, and Melody was already failing at being as outgoing as she wanted to be. It wasn't that she had trouble talking to people. Heck, she spoke Japanese exceedingly well, thanks to a combination of classes and her uncle. The bad part was, she had no idea who to talk to, or what to say, or who to approach or...

Frustrated, the British girl frowned into her half-eaten lunch. Here she was, at an all-girl's school with a cute uniform and all the tools she needed to be a successful guitarist... but she was failing at making a bunch of friends like she'd hoped she would be able to force herself to do. At the moment, she was forgetting it was only day one. Instead, all she was thinking was 'How do I talk to people? One on one I'm fine... but... how do I start with so many new people to meet?' She should probably start by taking the earbuds out of her ears... but right now the music was calming, despite being metal. 

Melody sighed, deciding to just give up on lunch. She could spend the rest of the lunch period thinking on it a bit while she explored the school, right? She grabbed her tray, and started weaving through the girls who were sitting, standing, and generally having a much  better time than her during their lunch break. She noticed they all seemed to have friends, or at least no problem breaking out of some stupid quiet shell. She was so busy thinking, she managed to bump right into someone, spilling the remainder of her food on them as she dropped her tray in surprise. She blinked and an earbud fell out of her ear, the world coming into focus. Should she apologize... or...?

Stains.

Minato hated stains. She'd learned to despise stains; the pain, the suffering they caused. It'd been drilled into her head that 'stains were bad' since she was four, when she was ordered to scrub a dirt stain off a highly expensive robe that her mother was working on. Since she grew up in a (heavily) clothing-oriented family, she especially learned to despise stains and general uncleanliness at all times, a trait that has carried over until today. Therefore, when faced with a PLETHORA of stains from some hapless student's lunch, Minato's natural response would be very strong.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH! I tailored this uniform myself, you slut! God, these fabrics cost hundreds of euros; watch where you're fucking going, asshole!"

Though, to be fair, she spouted all of this in a local dialect of French, which 95% of the students of Fukui Academy didn't know. Still, it was angry yelling, no matter what language. Her eyes blazed like the seventh ring of hell, and her teeth were gnashing so hard they were splitting atoms between them; her fury, obviously, got it's point across. After a bit more foreign roaring and growling and frantic attempts to wipe the lunch off her clothes, Minato realized that her French wouldn't get her entire point across and spoke through clenched teeth in Japanese.

"Look. This uniform; I tailored it myself, using fabric from Paris. I'm a seamstress, and I'm entering Fashion Design in this school. You," She jabbed a finger at Melody's chest, making cold eye contact and using every fiber of 'pissed off' that she has in her body, "Have just ruined about 900 Euros worth of fabric. That's 120,000 Yen. SO!" She roared that last part, letting her contained, whispered fury burst into fireworks.

"Gimme ONE good reason I shouldn't kick your ass into next Sunday! One. Good. REASON." With every word, Minato came closer and closer into Melody's face. Looking a bit more, the other girl was fairly attractive; she could probably make a beautiful design for her. But those thoughts were silent in comparison to the blazing anger that she felt at that very moment.

IF YOU ESCAPED WHAT I'VE ESCAPED
YOU'D BE IN PARIS GETTING F*CKED UP TOO

BALL SO HARD

LAIKA OF GS!

Fortunately (or unfortunately, perhaps) Melody had taken just enough French to pick out that she was being cursed at in addition to yelling. At first, the surprised look on her face seemed to get more surprised, not just at the reaction, but also how much the uniform had cost her to make. As the threats carried over to Japanese, though, Melody's eyebrow twitched. She hated when people talked down to her, and she hated being called names. She especially hated when people threatened to kick her butt. She'd been in a fight before. She seemed to have that effect on people when she lost her temper.

Thanks to this girl, she'd lost it again.

"Look, I'm sorry about your uniform. I'd offer to help get it cleaned, but unfortunately I'm not sure spoiled bitch comes out." At least she wasn't yelling... right? Some part of Melody told her she wasn't helping herself. The other part said this girl needed to be taught some manners. It wasn't like Melody was just going to run off and not even apologize. The spill was her fault. The ensuing catfight? Totally on Minato. 

"Who spends that much money on a uniform that looks just like everyone else's?" she asked, knowing full well that no artist would like being told their work didn't stand out. The blond girl crossed her arms, closing her brown eyes as she took out her other earbud, stowing it before going to pick up the food she'd dropped.

Okay, so she'd kind of done the opposite of giving a reason to not be assaulted by a spoiled French girl. In all honesty she hadn't raised her voice, but it was hard to do more damage than with the words that had, more or less accidentally, escaped her lips. A real artist put their very soul into their creations, be it a painting, music, or clothing. The uniform had honestly probably looked very pretty before the food was spilled on it. Maybe she should apologize properly...

TAG: @maki

"WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU LITTLE--" At first, Minato grabbed the girl by the collar and closed her face even closer to the girl at those words. Fighting words. Words that she'd love to silence with a bloody nose, or perhaps a black eye. Words that... she'd heard. She'd heard too many times, from so many other people, words that only made her think of one single adjective that she loathed and hated.

Ignorant.

Jut like everyone else. Nobody knew about the painstaking craftsmanship that went into the creation of clothing, especially couture. To fit every curve and angle of somebody's body... it took time, effort, and skill. It was an art in and of itself, but nobody noticed. No, everything was the same, clothing was clothing, size large was always size large!

God, she hated it.

It made her simmer down dangerously. Her loud, incessant yelling, so hot-blooded and fiery, toned itself down into something less innocent and more vengeful. Stone cold, bitter, utterly serious, Minato let go of the other girl's collar weakly and stared her down. "YOU.... You.. You wouldn't understand. A designer puts her blood and tears into every piece of clothing they wear, uniform or no. She gives it her all, makes sure it's of a fabric that reminds them of home," she said the word, heavily implying that there was something especially familial about such expensive fabric, "and stitches it to fit every curve of their soul."

"You're probably an architect, an actor, something that wouldn't understand the amount of personal detail that goes into stuff like this. Because every building, every scene is the same to you. Music could be vastly different, but because of one similarity, it's all the same noise to you." At this point, Minato didn't care if she was being dramatic or cheesy or starting a giant crowd of girls circling the two to assess the situation. She just wiped off a bit of lunch that spilled onto her face using her handmade sleeve.

"So fuck it! I could give less than a shit about the money! I'm done here. If you've got anything to say, spit it out. I'm just gonna get done with today." As long as she didn't see that ignorance again, she'd be fine. She'll just get more fabric, sew another uniform, whatever. There's a stain on her uniform; that will be fixed soon enough. But a stain on somebody's personality? That's not changing anytime soon.

IF YOU ESCAPED WHAT I'VE ESCAPED
YOU'D BE IN PARIS GETTING F*CKED UP TOO

BALL SO HARD

LAIKA OF GS!

Once her collar was grabbed, Melody stood there with a stoic expression on her face. She heard every word that was uttered, every wrong, misguided assumption, every reverberation of the pain in the girl's soul from not being recognized as the artist she was. If this were some sort of kung fu anime series, it would have ended up with the girl spewing fire as she got angrier and more powerful or something; at least, that was what went through Melody's head.

Once the girl let go, she stood there for a few more seconds, until the girl was through, and ready to leave. "You're wrong," her voice was low, barely audible, but audible. A fire burned in her eyes, one that reflected her own anger and pain. Then, the shouting began. "You think just because I'm not a tailor I don't understand that, you presumptuous brat?! I know what goes into any artists' work, what goes into every note, every stitch, every line!" Sure, this went against what she'd said earlier, but what she'd said earlier was just to be mean back. Now, it was personal.

"When I play my guitar, even the notes that aren't created by me become mine. The song sounds just like everyone else's, but it's mine! So get off of your damn high horse and remember that everyone here is the same! We're all artists, and just because you can make pretty dresses doesn't mean you're any better than me!" Melody clinched her fists to the point that her nails were biting into her palms; her brown eyes reflecting her own indignant feelings. Even her lips joined in, curved downwards in a frown.


"So you think I don't understand? Why don't you get over here and try me, bitch? I was going to apologize properly, before you decided to try and threaten me." As the former school bully of her old school, Melody was used to being challenged, being doubted, even looked down upon. She was also used to tearing people down, and making them feel worthless. That wasn't going to be her anymore. No matter how angry she got. She had to remind herself of this. "So you know what? You're right. Screw it. I'm sorry I ran into you when I let my guard down and tried to relax! I'll even help you clean your uniform, but you know what I won't do? Sit here and get torn down in front of everyone like I'm some ignorant little girl! I know exactly what you put into that dress to make it look like  everyone else's..." She grinned a somewhat sinister grin. "...and I know exactly how to push someone's buttons when they piss me off."

TAG: @maki | Boom! Melody lost it a bit there x3

Minato closed her eyes and took the brunt of it. Hm? Did she come off as trying to be better than everyone else? She didn't mean that. But still... she WAS acting fucking stupid, before. Too pessimistic. And this girl seemed to have a form of understanding of how an artist does something. She'd have to disagree on the 'it's not special, but it's mine' concept (Minato was more of a 'it's special because of me' person), but there was something... redemptive about the other girl's spirit and views.

It was still a pain in the ass to concede, of course. That's how pride worked. So here she was, stuck with a decision. One, she could walk away and concede, not acknowledging that she was actually rather respectable. Two, she could yell back and try to argue with her, not acknowledging she was rather respectable. Both seemed to be... not what she wanted.

Well, then, a third option. She'd prove to her that she respected her, while also doing something so inane that it would one-up her. Now, what to do... she was covered in all sorts of luncheon, her clothes were a mess, and this girl was a musician who just established her role as the protagonist. Now, what to do when the protagonist has the upper hand... Oh, she knows. Do the one thing nobody expects a villain to do.

Slowly, slowly but surely, she approached the girl once more, this time looking at her body up and down, not at her eyes. Her wild ferocity and aggressiveness were gone; all that was left was calculation and hard determination. Minato had to admit, she was pretty attractive physically, and she had earlier noted that she could think up a lovely piece for her. Now, to work her magic. Hopefully, she wasn't out of practice.

"172 centimeters... 5'8", in the US. 36 B, 27, 37, 24, 15. Long legs, fair skin. Dark tops with matching bottoms and a few bright colors for flair. Something comfortable. Matching accessory, too. You're very attractive." She said all of this matter-of-factly before looking at Melody in the eyes. It all seemed so professional, so impersonality, but when she met her eyes, there was something to prove in there.

Minato took a few steps back before continuing. "My name is Minato Kurogane, or, in France, Maria Forzi." As she introduced herself properly, her last name seemed to ring in the air. It WAS the name of a top designer company, after all; like Chanel and Armani. "All artists make their work theirs, huh? I suppose I'll have to prove I'm an artist to you, then." She flicked her hair, looking fabulous despite the drying stain on her uniform. "After school, four o' clock, meet me at the gates. Let me make you a design, cherie," She then lowered her voice to a dangerous yet strangely sultry tone. "let me take your time for a bit."

IF YOU ESCAPED WHAT I'VE ESCAPED
YOU'D BE IN PARIS GETTING F*CKED UP TOO

BALL SO HARD

LAIKA OF GS!

Wait... wait wait... wait... what was going on now? Melody felt a heat rush to her cheeks as the girl rattled off measurements even she didn't know she had. She had nothing in her hands after she shouting match; everything she'd been carrying was on the floor or the table right next to her. So, her arms did the only sensible thing, and she crossed her arms across her chest protectively - a sure physical sign of discomfort to anyone paying much attention.

Why was... how did she...? Melody was impressed. She could do the same thing when it came to music; it was how she learned new things on her own time - through a 'glance' into other people's music. This girl... she really was something else. Even if Melody was still too upset to admit it. The attractive thing did actually diffuse most of whatever anger she had left in her though, leaving her with... confusion? embarrassment? No, she supposed she wasn't embarrassed. She didn't react well to being embarrassed. She was just uncomfortable.

"... Melody... Melody Black. Just Melody..." She hadn't taken a new name to fit into the school; she'd just kept her own name. It seemed to fit her well enough anyway. So this girl was...? Her mother loved the Forzi line of clothing. Was this girl truly related to such a prestigious company? If so... that was one more thing they had in common, even if Melody's parents were only locally famous.

"So... four o' clock then..." Melody nodded. "I can... yeah, I can do that." She nodded, her self-hug losing some of its tightness. Now her eyes reflected her relative confusion. She had no idea what to make of this girl, now that she'd proven she could be... not a jerk at all... Though how making her clothes when it was Minato that had hers ruined, she wasn't sure how that added up. Best not to say anything. She really didn't want enemies.

Melody's hand ran through her hair, perpetually sticking up in just the right places to give her a permanent "sexy bedhead" kind of look. The English girl glanced around. People were starting to lose interest in what was going on. That was good. She wasn't going to apologize again here, though. "I'll meet you there."

And with that, she bent down, and resumed picking up what she'd dropped.

TAG: @maki | You can skip us forward to 4pm if you'd like. She'll show up looking unsure of herself.