"Obnoxious..." Mimiru mutters to herself at the hustle and bustle around the lobby, shoving by parents and siblings helping their loved ones move in or bidding them farewell.  The punk girl's mother had hired movers to bring her stuff over, and probably wouldn't be away from work for long enough to do more than sleep until the weekend.  The saccharine displays made her think for the first time it might be better that way; she couldn't really fathom an awkward bon voyage with the mother she hardly ever saw to begin with, sending her away to this place she hadn't really wanted to be, for reasons they couldn't agree on.<br/><br/>Mimiru pauses briefly to shoot a glance toward Kari, the sort of sidelong stare that someone gives something that seems slightly 'off' that doesn't really concern them, like a line-item put on the wrong shelf in a section of the grocery store.  The moment passes quickly and she heads on up to her room to change her clothes and kit.<br/><br/>A few minutes later she comes back down, wearing something that<em>approximates</em>a school uniform, if not from this country: she's got a pleated plaid miniskirt barely wider then the studded red leather belt supporting it, a pair of lace-up white boots, and a button-up white blouse left unbuttoned and instead tied off at a knot right under her bustline, with the sleeves rolled up all the way.  Apparently having opted for the full-on punk rock look tonight, she's got a spiked leather collar and matching bracelet, a pair of fingerless motorcycle gloves, and her hair done up strawberry-pink, tied in a pair of pigtails.  Contrastingly, she's heavily made up, with black eyeshadow and dark red lipstick, and a visible dash of rouge running a bit rampant off the edge of her cheekbones--on the whole, she looks a bit like a Catholic schoolgirl who's had one hell of a rough night.<br/><br/>The guitar she's got strapped to her back is noticeably different, too.  An electric with a cherry candy-shell finish emblazoned with 'Gibson' in black italics, rather than a humble acoustic.  The rocker adjusts it as she makes her way back through the lobby, glancing this way and that at the other students arriving.  "Oh man.  This is going to be one long-ass year..."