JULY 9, 2014.
Post by Kaigan Kaede on Dec 16, 2013 23:02:09 GMT -5
It was an unusual site to the few shinigami wandering the barracks this early in the morning. Kaede stormed through the building, wearing her red academy uniform like it was nothing. Academy whelps never usually ventured in to the division HQs: they had no business there. But from the confidence in her stride it was obvious that she was on some kind of mission. What mission, exactly? Mail delivery.
It was still a whole month until the graduation ceremony. That was a whole month of Kaede running around and doing useless shit whilst she could be out actually doing what she was trained to do. Perhaps the only thing this period of time was good for was having enough free time to do the mountains of application forms the academy had her fill in. Nothing but pages upon pages asking who her favourite captain was or whether she was more bookish or sporty. All of them were so inane it was hilarious. Never-the-less, if she wanted to get picked by a division then she needed to answer every single form for every single one of the 13 divisions. However, unlike most graduates, she was going to deliver her applications personally. She wanted to get a good look at these divisions before she committed to any of them.
She barged through the large, gate-like doors that separated the courtyard from the entrance hall and walked down the long, featureless path. Her footsteps were silent, as her feet were bare and made no sound against the cold marble of the floor. Under her arm she carried her application form. It was a thick wad of papers all wrapped up neatly in a tight little manilla envelope upon which she had written her name: ‘Kaigan Motherfucking Kaede’. She spotted the reception desk, jogged over to it and rang the bell on the table with a clenched fist.
Ding
Nothing. She hit it once more.
Ding
It was only seven in the morning, where was everyone!?
Dingdingdingdingdingding…
”Oi Oiiiiiiii!” Her voice echoed about the room, its high ceilings reverberating with her malcontent. First impressions of this division were not good at all. She slammed her envelope on to the table and twisted her neck to and fro, snapping out the knots with audible clicks and cracks.
