[It's his first day in class and Takasugi has no desire to make any friends. Everyone gave off a boring atmosphere on first inspection, and he didn't care to make a second one. Loitering around a group of kids content to let their impulses rise in the form of gossip or doodling on a test and nothing more exhausted him.
So the super edgy loner junior would be taking his lunch to the roof, fully anticipating eating alone.
Ah, but there's already someone else up there (it's you). He stops as soon as he opens the door, giving the student glazed over consideration.
But there's nothing to consider - Takasugi knows what he needs to do. And that is acting like he doesn't give a shit who is on the roof. So he crosses to a ledge and sits down, pulling out his 'bento': a Yakult and a pack of cigarettes. If this wasn't enough, he'd just cut afternoon classes to get some noodles.
Do you want to give this loner some company? Maybe you're really offended that someone is smoking on school property? Maybe you want to bum a cigarette off of him? Or maybe you're just blasted that he stared at you for so long, the atmosphere building, only to just walk away?
No matter what it is, don't let him get away with this 'cool kid' act, he'll start to think other people take him as seriously as he takes himself!]
[2]
[The list of important things for a delinquent is no shorter than the list of important things for anyone else - its contents are simply radically different. Instead of meals with the family or homework completed on time it's finding the right back alley to stand in with your gang or how many files you can get the police to complete on you without getting yourself arrested.
But one thing was universally important: recycling.
So this young terror on society is currently cutting his last class to loiter out back behind the main school building, smoking a cigarette and towering as much as a 5'7'' teen can over a toppled trash can. He's looking down at the contents like they've personally affronted him. Soon he'll be bending down and sifting through it. But not for a broken bottle to shiv someone with. Instead he's picking up the glass and...
putting it where it belongs. In the proper receptacle.
That's right, one of the baddest asses on campus is sorting the trash. Why? He makes no indication - really he's going about it in sort of a shifty manner. Like he's somehow committing a crime! In fact, from a distance, it may look like he's doing just that.
It's no small task, so Takasugi will still be at it when class ends and students are milling about on their way home.]
[3]
[A sharp chef's knife wasn't the worst weapon he could have pulled out of the bag. A bit short, but he'd made his point with less in the past, so it'd do. As his fingers wrapped around the handle, he could feel the adrenaline building in his joints.
It ached.
Just like his face. Takasugi had spent the whole time the message played smirking. Not out of any sort of eagerness - he enjoyed a fight, but on his own terms. Nor out of a desire to mask his true feelings. He'd have to know what those were to conceal them properly. If anything, it was a challenge forced into his hands.
He wouldn't be letting it get the better of him.
So when he heard another's footfalls crack a twig behind him Takasugi turned, throwing the knife directly at their face. It would miss - due to his own inaccuracy? or intentionally? He wasn't not about to let on.]
What are you doing? [His rampant display of arrogant confidence that began in abandoning his weapon continued as he shifted his stance towards the other with his hips swung forward and his head cocked to the side. Give him an answer worth his time.]
[4]
[Kicking ass is great and all - something at which Takasugi is relatively skilled. He tenses hands covered in dry blood, one wrapped white-knuckled around the remnants of his weapon. The handle of his knife broken and gone, the blade and small extension of metal is all that remains. His clothes are disheveled and his shoes are caked in dirt and mud. His hair clings to his neck - he's the portrait of a boy whose been hard at work out there, butchering his classmates.
Except for one fatal flaw.
He's panting, lips cracked and dry, slouched against a tree in one of the more sparsely populated areas of the forest. His map had long since been destroyed, and even someone with a decent sense of direction would get lost being chased around in a place like this.
He would go on. Just after his stomach settled, sick from dehydration to the point of wracking his entire body and making his vision swim. Passing out meant death. That wasn't an option.
Just regain your senses, and you can move on. Water was nearby. It had to be.
Except, for all the mental stubbornness on his part, the teen is slipping down the tree gradually, leaving trails of bark and moss on his shirt as he sinks lower and lower to the ground without noticing.]
Takasugi Shinsuke | Gintama
[It's his first day in class and Takasugi has no desire to make any friends. Everyone gave off a boring atmosphere on first inspection, and he didn't care to make a second one. Loitering around a group of kids content to let their impulses rise in the form of gossip or doodling on a test and nothing more exhausted him.
So the super edgy loner junior would be taking his lunch to the roof, fully anticipating eating alone.
Ah, but there's already someone else up there (it's you). He stops as soon as he opens the door, giving the student glazed over consideration.
But there's nothing to consider - Takasugi knows what he needs to do. And that is acting like he doesn't give a shit who is on the roof. So he crosses to a ledge and sits down, pulling out his 'bento': a Yakult and a pack of cigarettes. If this wasn't enough, he'd just cut afternoon classes to get some noodles.
Do you want to give this loner some company? Maybe you're really offended that someone is smoking on school property? Maybe you want to bum a cigarette off of him? Or maybe you're just blasted that he stared at you for so long, the atmosphere building, only to just walk away?
No matter what it is, don't let him get away with this 'cool kid' act, he'll start to think other people take him as seriously as he takes himself!]
[2]
[The list of important things for a delinquent is no shorter than the list of important things for anyone else - its contents are simply radically different. Instead of meals with the family or homework completed on time it's finding the right back alley to stand in with your gang or how many files you can get the police to complete on you without getting yourself arrested.
But one thing was universally important: recycling.
So this young terror on society is currently cutting his last class to loiter out back behind the main school building, smoking a cigarette and towering as much as a 5'7'' teen can over a toppled trash can. He's looking down at the contents like they've personally affronted him. Soon he'll be bending down and sifting through it. But not for a broken bottle to shiv someone with. Instead he's picking up the glass and...
putting it where it belongs. In the proper receptacle.
That's right, one of the baddest asses on campus is sorting the trash. Why? He makes no indication - really he's going about it in sort of a shifty manner. Like he's somehow committing a crime! In fact, from a distance, it may look like he's doing just that.
It's no small task, so Takasugi will still be at it when class ends and students are milling about on their way home.]
[3]
[A sharp chef's knife wasn't the worst weapon he could have pulled out of the bag. A bit short, but he'd made his point with less in the past, so it'd do. As his fingers wrapped around the handle, he could feel the adrenaline building in his joints.
It ached.
Just like his face. Takasugi had spent the whole time the message played smirking. Not out of any sort of eagerness - he enjoyed a fight, but on his own terms. Nor out of a desire to mask his true feelings. He'd have to know what those were to conceal them properly. If anything, it was a challenge forced into his hands.
He wouldn't be letting it get the better of him.
So when he heard another's footfalls crack a twig behind him Takasugi turned, throwing the knife directly at their face. It would miss - due to his own inaccuracy? or intentionally? He wasn't not about to let on.]
What are you doing? [His rampant display of arrogant confidence that began in abandoning his weapon continued as he shifted his stance towards the other with his hips swung forward and his head cocked to the side. Give him an answer worth his time.]
[4]
[Kicking ass is great and all - something at which Takasugi is relatively skilled. He tenses hands covered in dry blood, one wrapped white-knuckled around the remnants of his weapon. The handle of his knife broken and gone, the blade and small extension of metal is all that remains. His clothes are disheveled and his shoes are caked in dirt and mud. His hair clings to his neck - he's the portrait of a boy whose been hard at work out there, butchering his classmates.
Except for one fatal flaw.
He's panting, lips cracked and dry, slouched against a tree in one of the more sparsely populated areas of the forest. His map had long since been destroyed, and even someone with a decent sense of direction would get lost being chased around in a place like this.
He would go on. Just after his stomach settled, sick from dehydration to the point of wracking his entire body and making his vision swim. Passing out meant death. That wasn't an option.
Just regain your senses, and you can move on. Water was nearby. It had to be.
Except, for all the mental stubbornness on his part, the teen is slipping down the tree gradually, leaving trails of bark and moss on his shirt as he sinks lower and lower to the ground without noticing.]