Announcements: Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat β€” the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. » Song of the Runes » Plato’s Beard » Clues » Nihilism » Strange Tales From Hadean » Art Gulag [ Come get this Commish! ] » Visibility of Private Universes & Profile Customisation » Presuppositionalism » Aphantasia » Skill Trees - Good, Bad & Ugly » In-Game Gods & Gameplay Impact » Cunningham's Law » The Tribalism of Religion » Lost Library »

Players Wanted: Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers » Fun tale full of angels, demons, and humans » Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life Ω©( Β΄ο½₯шο½₯)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution » Gonna do this anyway. » Looking for Kamen Rider Players » Elysium » Looking for roleplayers for a dystopian past! » Revamping Fantasy Adventure RPG, need new players »

Snippet #2603664

located in Anzo High School, a part of Don't Be Embarassed, one of the many universes on RPG.

Anzo High School

None

Setting

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

Footnotes

Add Footnote »

0.00 INK

Amaya was staring at the door. She had been siting in her wheelchair on the other side of the hallway from the door for maybe a minute now, reconsidering her choice to join. Her hands were patting her thighs nervously, and her eyes were still on the door even after she had made her choice once again in her head. She stops staring soon, and her eyes glance down at the floor as she pushes herself across the hallway, her wheelchair making a squeak. Amaya was wearing the school uniform, and on her head was a gray wool beret. She grabs the handle of the door, and struggles to open it for a moment before she gets the correct grip on it, sliding it open. She rolls in a bit, looking around at the two people in the room nervously. "S-. . uhm. ." She says, stumbling for words.