Kotah walked into the cafeteria with his head hung low and his hair covering half his face while it still managed to flow restlessly behind him. His hands were pocketed in regular, straitlegged black jeans. He was washing his other outfit at the moment and wasn't too happy with that. He hated having to wear something else since these clothes weren't custom fit, nor do they have zippers for him to play with to keep his mind off of things. Instead, his shirt was a plain black t-shirt that hung loose on his lithe frame.
He plopped down with his food at a table. There were people to either side, though a few seats down. He only stood out to those with a slightly better sense of observation.
He sat still a moment, looking at his food, then looking around. He wasn't at all hungry, but haddn't eaten in a while and since he was to be keeping up his training, he needed to force himself some nurishment. He sighed and put an elbow on the table and his head in that hand. His other hand reached into a pouch on his leg and withdrew a single acupuncture needle. Studying it nonchallant, he tapped the end of it with his index finger and watched a spot of red seep onto the surface of his skin. He quietly watched it slowly form a soft shield as to keep it from spreading; instead, he applied pressure on the pad of his finger, letting the blood spread into a larger drop until it slid a little. Once again, he watched it slowly form another soft barrier. He tried seeing shapes in it like people do clouds, but grew tired and licked it off the end of his finger; a ring was left where the partial clot connected to his skin and he stared at this before going back to his food.
He plopped down with his food at a table. There were people to either side, though a few seats down. He only stood out to those with a slightly better sense of observation.
He sat still a moment, looking at his food, then looking around. He wasn't at all hungry, but haddn't eaten in a while and since he was to be keeping up his training, he needed to force himself some nurishment. He sighed and put an elbow on the table and his head in that hand. His other hand reached into a pouch on his leg and withdrew a single acupuncture needle. Studying it nonchallant, he tapped the end of it with his index finger and watched a spot of red seep onto the surface of his skin. He quietly watched it slowly form a soft shield as to keep it from spreading; instead, he applied pressure on the pad of his finger, letting the blood spread into a larger drop until it slid a little. Once again, he watched it slowly form another soft barrier. He tried seeing shapes in it like people do clouds, but grew tired and licked it off the end of his finger; a ring was left where the partial clot connected to his skin and he stared at this before going back to his food.