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I'm Feeling Lucky

Searching for: Posts from Comfygazing.
Posted: Fri, 16/02/2024 07:20 (9 Months ago)
RP

Welcome to Rakua, a city doused in everlasting night. It is perfection in every conceivable way, affordable housing, walk-able infrastructure, presence of third spaces, all those boring adult things yknow. Everything you could ever want is available for you with only one catch.

Go to school.

Adults may live out most of their lives at home while attending community college, children learning the fundamentals in primary. Regardless of age, school is mandatory and non-negotiable.

Everyone is divided into three years, 1st, 2nd, and 3rd years with a majority of the citizens staying as 1st years for all their life, only a handful of 3rd years sticking around the city. There isn't any discernible reason why someone is in the category that they're in and how one can move to a different year. As far as everyone knows, people just. Do. Graduation never really happens but new people are always coming in and some do move out. No one's movement is restricted so these matters usually are left to the wayside with the logic than when it is time for you to move up a year, you will know it. The only clue you have is the rules that are hung up on every schools Main Hall.

The Rule of the First Years is to Live
The Rule of the Second Years is to Protect
The Rule of the Third Years is to Remember

Some are content to stay the year that they are, living out each day as happily as they can. They attend classes, go to work, have fulfilling lives that only could be achieved in dreams. But what everyone knows is that the Student Council may hold some answers to the mystery surrounding Rakua. Made up of six mysterious figures, they are the effective major power that runs the city. Taking care of the citizens, making sure that school is running, and organizing community events, these are only some of the duties that the council employs. There are rumours that they have special powers as they can be magically found whenever help is needed. Their deeper understanding of the city may just be the clue you need to achieve the fabled graduation.

Whether you are a new resident or you have been living in the city that never sleeps for your entire life, its time to go to school I think.

How this RP works
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Your form will be quite basic, but the most important aspect is choosing what year your character will be.

1st years are pretty normal with no real gimmick about them but 2nd and 3rd years will get a PM from me. Members of the Council will also receive a special PM from me regardless of year.

The goal of this RP is to live. Each player with be given a mission corresponding to their school year. There is no penalty for failure, but rewards for succeeding will be instrumental. For example,

The Mission of All Students, Regardless of Year, is to Graduate. Live Out Your Youthful School Life to its Fullest

Ideally, most people are 1st years! Yes, you can be 2nd or 3rd years, but its no fun if we only have one or two 1st years. 1st years are essentially our protagonists with the rest as supporting characters

By the end of each in RP month, I will announce who has moved up a year or graduated.

Please feel free to try and figure out what each year's mission is in RP but to preserve the mystery please try not to collude together without my knowledge. I may make exceptions but those will be case by case and you must check in with me before going ahead.


Rules
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1. This is a semi-lit roleplay. I expect at least a paragraph per post, around 3-5 sentences minimum. If I am unsure about your RP ability, I reserve the right to request an RP sample
2. Hate the Character not the player
3. Please be sensible when playing. This means things like bunnying, godmodding, powerplaying, or piloting are things that I will not be looking at kindly
4. Go wild with romance. I don't care as long as it doesn't become the main focus
5. I have a pretty thought out plot on how this RP goes. Please consult with me before making any big potentially plot changing decisions
6. Please remove all parenthesis in your forms, they're there for mostly clarification reasons
7. Reserving is fine but please fill out your form within the week! If you can't, please either communicate with me and we can work something out or else that reservation will go to someone else
8. I reserve the right to reject your form. I also reserve the right to give out warnings and kick people out if I see fit
9. Above all else, please have fun


School Roster:
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Student Body
Kai Squalus | He/She | 18 | 1st Year | Comfygazing
Kimora Lux | She/They | 18| 1st Year | -andrea-
Nightrekra Sharma | She/Her | 17 | 1st Year | ShatteredDiamond
Cassiopeia Xan |She/They | 16 | 1st Year | res. th30
Brooke Hollis | He/She/They | 19 | 1st Year | M3m3ntoM0r1
Phaenna Gratiea | She/Her | 19 | 1st Year | ~Fahrenheit~
Noroi | They/Them | 16 | 2nd Year | Drakonia
| res. ~~Leafie~~

Members of the Council
President - Pyry Pythios | He/Him | 25 | 3rd Year | Comfygazing
Vice President - Emika Eclipsar | She/Her | 22 | 3rd Year | ShatteredDiamond
Student Councillor - Adalia Cardeal | She/Her | 24 | 2nd Year | -andrea-
Events Coordinator - Connor Murphy | He/Him | 26 | 2nd Year | M3m3ntoM0r1
Secretary/Treasurer - (Any Year) (Records keeper and Finance manager, makes sure that everything stays within budget and nothing is out of place)
Enforcer - (Any Year) (The muscle of the Council, ensures that even if delinquency emerges that it is under control and monitored. Rules can be bent but never broken)


Form:
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[center][i]"Quote (Describe your characters with a witty one liner!)"[/i]

[b]Username:[/b] (Tell me about yourself)

[b]Character Name:[/b] (Names hold meanings. Even moreso when you're fighting for your life)
[b]Gender & Pronouns:[/b] (What gender are they? Always ask for pronouns kids)
[b]Age:[/b] (How old are they? Do they act their age?)
[b]Year:[/b] (What year are they, 1st? 2nd? 3rd? Your age does not correspond to your year)
[b]Council Member & Position:[/b] (y/n)(entirely optional, I will be more inclined to accept you as a member of the council if I've RPd with you before)

[b]Appearance:[/b] (What do they look like? Are they small for their age, have unusually prominent facial features?) (Images and/or description are welcome)


[b]Personality:[/b] (What are they like? What drives them, what breaks them? What do they hide and what do they show?)
[b]Fears:[/b] (Everyone is scared of something, you are no exception.) (please put a minimum of 2)
[b]Relationships:[/b] (It is the people around us that so often form our self. Who forms your character?) (Optional)

[b]Other:[/b] (What other secrets do they hide? Go wild)

[b]Pal Pad Group:[/b] (y/n)[/center]


My Forms:
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"If you have any complaints please don't tell them to my face"

Username: Comfygazing

Character Name: Pyry Pythios
Gender & Pronouns: Male | He/Him
Age: 25
Year: 3rd Year
Council Member & Position: Student Council President

Appearance:
Dark and mysterious, Pyry leans into his reputation with clothing that deliberately evokes those assumptions. A dark fur collared coat with a high neck shirt underneath, showing as little pale skin as possible is a staple of his wardrobe. Paired with sunglasses that never leave his face even when indoors, many get the impression that he's either an idiot trying to look cool, or there's something more to him that he's desperately hiding. It doesn't help that he's on the shorter side either.

Personality: There is little that is actually known about the enigmatic head of the Council, rarely seen outside of formal events as a shadow behind the brightly shining members. All thats known is that he holds an immense love for Rakua City, with his rise to presidency marked by the creation of numerous programs that only improved the already amazing lives of the citizens. He stands at the head of the Council, leading an age where there have been more graduations than ever in Rakua's history.

Ask any of the council members though, and they will all scoff and describe him as an Apathetic Idiot.
Fears: Acrophobia, he can't stand being higher than the second floor of any building. Mainly because once he is higher than that, his feet start walking him closer to the edge... For similar reasons, he has Aerophobia
Relationships: The closest thing he has to family is the rest of the Council members

Other: As the head of Rakua city and a 3rd year, perhaps Pyry knows more than he lets on


"I'm starting to think that school miiiight just be kinda overrated..."

Username: Comfygazing

Character Name: Kai Squalus
Gender & Pronouns: Bigender | He/She
Age: 18
Year: 1st Year
Council Member & Position: Nope

Appearance:
With a short stature at 147cm (4'8), Kai easily gets lost in crowds as his sandy blond hair and tan skin don't offer much to go off of when it comes to easily finding him. She often likes comfortable clothes that are easy to move in and fashionable, but also offer up some fashionable points.

Personality: A bit shy, words don't come to Kai very easily. As someone who is used to spending time with family and in a place that she knows well, suddenly moving to a new city is quite terrifying for her. His reluctance to speak often makes him the target of teasing and most times, Kai lets it happen as he doesn't exactly enjoy conflict. A bit of a doormat, this one. She enjoys spending time wandering nature, quite sporty in the sense that hiking is a big hobby of hers and can identify plants at a glance.
Fears: Deathly afraid of bodies of water to the point where even bathing churns his stomach. He is very weary around still water that looks shallow. She hopes that the day where people forget her also never comes
Relationships: Gets along really well with his father even if the other isn't around very much

Other: Kai is quite new to the city, only having moved in this year


If you know where the premise comes from no shut up you don't lmao


[Read more]
Posted: Sun, 04/02/2024 03:26 (9 Months ago)
xxxBreathing in the salt that clung to his skin, Viorel moved past the throngs of people moving towards the city in droves, sliding through the slight gaps between each person like flowing water gliding past obstinate rocks. The constant flux of motion that crowded the main streets, grinding the clogged pathways to a halt almost child's play to navigate for someone who was used to pushing through hoards of other students. After all, if one couldn't survive the initial bloodbath, then where was the fun? The thrill of the hunt?

xxxIt was laughably easy to slip past everyone to the front where the slight pinprick of blood drawn for the informal early census was demanded. Such insignificant pain didn't register in his mind, only another box to check off as he rippled past stagnant bodies leaving behind nothing but a transient whisp of memory that faded into obscurity. There was never anything interesting to do before the reaping, especially when he knew everything that was going to happen. Those who were drawn from the lot would never step foot in the capital and those who had trained their whole lives for such a time would take the crowning glory instead.

xxxWhat a joke

xxxAh, Viorel reflected almost melancholic as he took his pace at the back with the other boys his age. They parted around him like water before an unerodible mountain and he tried not to miss the perfectly carved space beside him that stayed unoccupied. I was too hasty. I should have waited longer before driving that knife in.

xxxIt would have been a shame if Shiki died, but if such a paltry attack could knock the other down until the sea drew him back into Her fold, then he could have never been good enough to participate in the games. And Viorel had been considerate enough to chose a spot that wouldn't pierce any vital organs too. It would be plain embarrassing if Shiki failed to show. Besides, if he was going to laugh at Viorel for getting on stage, then he'd very happily flip his classmate off from atop his lofty perch.

xxxLetting out a breath, he let the nerves slide off his back and loosened his neck. Today, would be the day he would seal his face, with a raised hand and two simple words.


xxxMindlessly ambling through the crowded streets, the only cognizant thoughts to never let go of the callused hand that clasped tightly against dirty fabric covered in tears bouncing lazily around, Ibaraki let dull eyes stay transfixed on the thinning soles of withered work boots. They never had much, only the bare basics to scrape by as they danced the razor thin line between destitution and homelessness. Their best clothing was the ones that they wore on their back, shoes a luxury that Ibaraki hadn't yet had the means of experiencing

xxxDad slowed to a stop, gradual and measured enough that Ibaraki didn't stumble, and turned to kneel down to eye level. "Listen, kid. You're old and smart enough to know how this whole sh- thing works." He coughed, covering up swallowed words with a grimace. "You have a one in a trillion chance of getting picked anyways so do as we practised. Keep your head down, and the oddities out. No one wants to see muscle instead of skin."

xxxThe familiar scolding washed over twitching ears without really registering, shallow nods of the head all that were given. Ibaraki didn't get why they had to go over it again, it wasn't like the rules they had first established when Ibaraki started working out in the fields with the other kids had changed at all and none of them had been broken. Today must be special then, Ibaraki surmised. Special enough to be chosen for something.

xxx "Good kid." Dad smiled, rare and as heartwarming as Ibaraki could remember, a heavy hand coming up to ruffle snowy hair. "Your Ma would be proud." That got the child's attention, sharp ears perking up and Ibaraki gazed at Dad with wonder swimming in molten gold. So rarely had that titled been spoken of, the faint memories of a pale haired woman who would cradle Ibaraki against her chest on particularly cold nights already fading away with the sands of time. She hadn't stayed around, leaving much too soon for Ibaraki to remember much of anything, but Ma always made Ibaraki feel nice and warm. Dad must have felt the same as melancholy seeped into his face at those words, their moment of silence blanketed with grief before Dad took Ibaraki's covered hand again.

xxxThey didn't need to exchange any words as they reached the front of the line and a sliver of pain granted them entry. Packed as it was, Ibaraki still found solace in the steady presence of Dad before even that was taken away and unfamiliar hands led the child towards the front of the crowd. There, various other children were gathered in oderly lines, some that Ibaraki recognized from various crop fields and contracts.

xxxWas everyone here than?

xxxThe thought spurred something bright in Ibaraki's chest, perhaps spurred on by the earlier reminder of something lost. A flicker of something dangerously close to hope settling in the child's chest as Ibaraki looked around to perhaps catch a glimpse of a woman who sparkled like the alcohol that Dad so loved to indulge in but only the cold white of Peace kept reflecting back

[Read more]
Posted: Fri, 26/01/2024 07:11 (10 Months ago)
Username • Comfygazing
Order • Icon YCH
Expression • Up to you
Reference/s • (x)
Notes • Feel free to choose any of the three variants :D Also your art is so squishy i wanna eat it

[Read more]
Posted: Wed, 24/01/2024 03:36 (10 Months ago)
The Myrionymos

External Appearance


Armament: The ship is naturally shaped with two wicked prongs along its beak, a Breaker designed to dig and rip into metal. It is armed with four Demi-culverin and a wide variety of shots for any situation. Most commonly loaded with Grapeshot and Canister Shots, but look out for the occasional exploding shot. As with everything that lives on The Myrionymos, they have been modified with Magicka to reload faster, capable of firing twice within 5 minutes.
Hull Color: Brown, growing wild and untamed. At times, the colours may shift as if the wood holding the boat together is alive and writhing under the salty spray of the Sea
Hull Length: 33.5 Meters
Beam: 8.5 Meters
Figurehead, If Present: A soaring owl melding as one with the wood, eyes sparkling a green that even the oceans couldn't hope to reflect. Riding on the owl's back is a scorpion that most would miss on first glance
Command Style: Open-style Wheel

Internal Information


Crew Size: 41 - Captain, First Officer, and Her Crew, most for which to handle Her rigging
Cargo Space: 600 Square Meters
Brig Space: 5 - Mostly available for formality's sake
Living Accommodations: Well - Its cozy but with a such a small ship, you've got to pack it in. Thank goodness the crew all get along well enough to cuddle with one another else it would be quite cramped indeed

Statistics


Maximum Speed: Due to Her lightweight nature, She tops at 80 knots (57 mph/92 km/h)
Maximum Carry Weight: 480 tonnage
Maximum Armor: Thanks to Her captain's tinkering, She can take two hits every 5 seconds, regenerating and refreshing Herself every 10 without any help from the crew. The shield is circular and envelops the bottom of the ship, though it is weaker at the lateral poles than it is horizontal poles.
Minimum Armor: If you get past the shields then anything is a weak point. Shields are especially weak towards the lookout and crows nest, being the last to regenerate after each cycle. In general, the further away from the deck the ship is, the more vulnerable it is likely to be. In part due to its quick regeneration rate, it requires a vast amount of energy to maintain thus leaving Her main power source, Her Captain, fatigued when active for extended periods of time without any help from the crew

Other


Despite not being as impressive looking as other ships of its kind, The Myrionymos boasts one of the highest speeds on the Seas both among woodworks and ironclads, leaving many to rock wildly under Her surf as She runs circles around them. Her small stature makes it hard to hit and blend in with regular ships, disappearing off into the horizon and blitzing back before you can blink. She may not have the best firepower nor be the largest ship, but when you can pick fights and run away from them just as quickly, well why wouldn't you?


[Read more]
Posted: Tue, 23/01/2024 22:36 (10 Months ago)
xxxThe burning chill of morning dew crawled up small hands, pins and needles bristling under delicate skin. The barest twitch of muscle against cobbled concrete and moulded walls boxing in the small figure drowned in shadows and dripping dew. Ibaraki shifted, the rough cut of sheepskin sliding off shivering shoulders as the child sat up to look around blearily, ignoring the budding migraine that would surely blossom arduously. The small shed that was considered the closest thing to "home" was empty, Dad having gone out to work the morning shift. Or was wasted somewhere.

xxxUncaring of the silence that weighed heavily against thin shoulders, Ibaraki clambered onto unsteady feet, ignoring the burning pain that sat snugly in a stuttering chest, a hollow hole carved out just for it. Hunger was a familiar sensation that gnawed away at hollow bones and sallow skin, baby fat that should still have hung off growing muscles all but gone as lethargy chained thin ankles into dragging depths. Clutching thin fabric over an erratically beating heart, Ibaraki's free hand came up to brush dirt off exposed muscle that stretched across grimy cheeks, golden eyes roving over the piles of old hay and rotting wood.

xxxNo one was there.

xxxNot even the animals that sometimes took refuge in the crumbling beams.

xxxSmall eyebrows furrowed in worry as Ibaraki stumbled out into the meadows that surrounded the shabby shack. Not even the workers who tended to the growing wheat and agriculture could be seen, the empty tilled fields where greenery was beginning to blossom so alien and foreign to a young child whose daily routine had never shifted ever since Dad had started to pull away.

xxxClutching the threadbare oversized shirt in a trembling hand, Ibaraki looked around frantically attempting to rationalize the sudden jarring shift in reality where everyone but the child had been magicked away in the dead of night. Each action sent bolts of discomfort running up shaking legs but the only way forward was to take another step, the fruitless search yielding only disappointment and new anxieties.

swimminglandscape
raggedbreaths
and a


bloodthatthreatenedtoleakoutoftearyeyes
and
runredoverrippedcheeks


clawsthatpiercedthroughthinfabrictoclawintobareskin


theworstpla
pla
playingonloop

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxLoop
xxxxxxxxxxxLoop
Loopxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxLoop

xxxIbaraki could feel the constrictions tying wheezing breaths up into bare puffs of air, spots dancing across a vision that could barely even see beyond the red that beaded along trembling lids. The pounding pressure behind closed eyes had grown into piercing needles, debilitating if not for the familiarity with which it invaded the senses. The buildup of fluid that should have only pumped life through such a young body only coursed pain through sensitive nerves and frayed receptors, leaving behind a shell of a child, waiting for the flare up to run its course, ravaging through shaking limbs and a weakened heart.

xxxBlinking away the spots that had danced across dotted vision, clearing away the haze that had blinded glittering gold, Ibaraki startled to see Dad kneeling on the ground, chaff sticking to frayed overalls. The sun reflected off his red hair as Dad started for a moment before standing back up, callused hands knocking away debris before it stretched out beyond Ibaraki's vision. "Come on." Dad commanded, gruff voice cutting through the pain and settling deep into weary bones.

xxxTaking the outstretched hand, Ibaraki glanced around to see worried gazes following the pair, workers who were picking up the last of the grain before the hour of finality drew close enough to be touched. Littered around the field familiar faces furrowed with concern, people who had taken care of the sickly child as their own ever since alcohol became a familiar scent on heavy breaths. These were the aunties and uncles and siblings who Ibaraki had grown up with all twisting their hearts as Dad led them towards the town proper.

xxxWhere.... had they come from?

[Read more]
Posted: Tue, 23/01/2024 00:08 (10 Months ago)
xxxThe whistle of a blade, the scent of rusted iron, the slight resistance of bone under his hand, pulling taunt fishing lines as it cut into callused flesh, drowning under everything that came with knowing the stakes of each passing day. Staring out into a beach awash with diluted red, the crashing surf battering against stiff ankles, lost in the sea of dreams that always could have been but never will be. The salty smell of disappointment, what a haunting delicacy. Lăcrămioara would never cease to tire of it, chasing after fleeting dreams with ephemeral pleasures

xxxThe crunch of the surf drew Viorel out of his musings as he turned around to watch as a classmate crouched beside him on the wet sands, the bottoms of immaculately pressed slacks picking up a little color. "You're going to be late, golden boy." Shiki noted, drawing a nonsensical pattern on the beach with a slender finger. Viorel only hummed tipping his head to the side where he could comfortably lay on the other's thin shoulder. His classmate had always been too thin for his own good, easy to sweep off his feet and overwhelm even if that slim stature came from years of free-diving, more suited to silent ambushes rather than head on confrontations. Next year, Viorel surmised. Next year, Shiki would be the one thrown into the arena and placed with the burden of winning honour and glory for their district just as last year's candidates were, just like Viorel and whatever girl who would volunteer alongside him were expected to bring home or die trying.

xxxHe didn't really mind the fact that he was being shipped off towards his death, it was something he had long since made peace with after rising to the top of his class, overpowering those older than him with mind games and careful words. At the very least, he planned to make his death as entertaining as could be, a grand final send off that included all the showmanship expected out of games made to entertain a very select group of wealthy pigs who gorged themselves on peasant blood. Districts didn't matter in the end; everyone bleeds the same colour anyways. A gentle nudge again brought his thoughts back into his body as sand crusted hands gently cupped Viorel's face as it was drawn up to face the sun backlit with golden radiance. "Vivi, come on. Let me say goodbye one last time." Shiki coaxed, lips that only spoke lies and promises gently kissing the red markings on either side of his nose, Viorel scrunching up his face in protest.

xxx"I see, you don't think I'll win, huh?" He pouted, angling his face up for a real drop of affection, spine cracking as he leaned into the fleeting touches. All he got in return was a harsh pinch against his scarred cheek as Shiki rewarded greedy advances with a chiding. There was comfort to be found between two warm bodies and in a school where such warmth sprayed across skin and twisted themselves into unnatural shapes, anything could be used against each other. The familiarity of violence was the only thing scarred hands knew how to offer even when given something else to hold. But even as they ripped flesh into ribbons and dug their teeth into shoulders, holding on until the last fang, the scolding slap of a gentle tap of fingers against smarting skin, they could well read between the lines of each word and action.

xxx"With how idiotic you are, I wouldn't put it past you to trip and fall on your blade." Shiki huffed, yanking him up with one smooth movement, unexpected given the other's stature. "But I won't be able to point and laugh if you don't get reaped." The pair stumbled slightly, the lapping waves shifting wet sand to undermine their balance but those who had trained to take lives as soon as they could be cognizant of such a fact would not be so easily toppled over. Tangled legs righted themselves and Viorel couldn't help but sink into the embrace, a sly smirk on his face as he brushed a hand over the other boy's face. Well, at least his final hours on home surf would be filled with a beauty.

xxx"No, no you won't." Viorel agreed, sliding steel past planes of muscle without much resistance, finding its place in a warm gut full of spilled blood. "Not if you don't get that looked at." Laughing as Shiki stumbled back, coughing wet red, Viorel turned on his heel and picked his way up the beach, ignoring the romantic sentiments of leaving the other with a knife of his own making lodged in his body. There were other things worth thinking about.

[Read more]
Posted: Thu, 18/01/2024 06:51 (10 Months ago)
username: Comfygazing
offering: Hakkito Scrub Half body, unrendered shading
looking for: Nuggets, probably like 50 is fine
examples: (x)
sketch vs final
other: Your taste in vtubers is very based


[Read more]
Posted: Sun, 14/01/2024 00:07 (10 Months ago)
August 22nd, 2015

■■■■ stumbled through the old remains of a once familiar city, the hold it had on an old knife dulling with repeated use never faltering even as it passed iconic landmarks. San Francisco was so different the last time it had visited, for one it had come on a commercial flight, the two and a half hour travel time nothing in comparison to the month long trudge this time around. The other was that it was alone, no small warm hand that fit into its callused dirt smudged hand, no warm weight in its arms as a sleeping head rested against its shoulder, no laughter to accompany the sorrow. Those had been lost along with the sun the moment they had decided to venture away from the farmstead that had long been the home that they had built with their own two hands.

But still, it trudged on, picking it's way through the rubble. There was no other way than forward now.

Slight shuffling caught ■■■■'s attention and immediately it was on high alert, shifting low to the ground as narrowed brown eyes surveyed the scene around it. There weren't any of the telltale signs that alerted it to the shambling corpses that had infested almost every inch of the continent, so another survivor most likely. It didn't know if that was any better. ■■■■ never really liked killing other survivors, the light in their eyes much too human. At least with those corpses, anything recognizable about them had been mutated to the point of homogeneity, just another mangled victim in a sea of death. They were just unlucky enough to be twisted into one of those creatures. It was easier to put one out of their misery than to engage in skirmishes

Stalking forward, only keen eyes spotted the shadow of movement as someone darted from behind one piece of rubble to the next, keeping themselves low to the ground to avoid any detection. They didn't seem keen on starting any fights but appearances were always deceiving. And so it stayed cautious, picking its way through the not so empty streets while keeping an eye on the travelling enigma. And it seemed that the reverse was true as well, both parties stalking one another as they sized the other up. And the moment the other relaxed, even for a second, was when it pounced.

"■■■■?"

Freezing at the name, ■■■■ slid back to snarl at the stranger, their heavy hood obfuscating any identifying features. Who were they to know it's name, a thing that only a few had the honor of knowing in this horrid wasteland? Who were they to use such a name with candid curiosity, almost weary but hopeful? As shaking hands pulled back the tattered fabric to reveal gentle wrinkles and kind eyes that only belonged to a heartache that still sat fresh in his chest.

"... Mama?"

"Oh, ■■■■, my child you're here! You made it safely! Just look at you, so skinny and dirty, what would □□□ say if he saw you? Where is he anyways? Oh what am I saying, with ▪▪▪ of course. She must be so big now, it's been so long since we've seen you two." A deluge of words spilled out of the homely woman's mouth as she rambled on endlessly, the sight of his mother-in-law draining any tension out of him, a limp puppet dangling from cut strings. Each word sounded like it was coming through a block of molasses as he stumbled forward to hug her tight, the lean squish of a life without constant food giving slightly under his hold. Even as assurances were cooed and a boney yet firm hand pressed his face into a padded shoulder, ■■■■ refused to cry.

He wouldn't.

It couldn't.

Not until it saw with its own eyes the rotting decaying body


A warm hand landed on its shoulder, shaking Lynden from its reminiscing and turning it's face to the kindly woman with age drawn into her skin. "Shifts over, dear. Go to bed." Mama said gently, grief settled in those soft black eyes of hers. Lynden knew it's eyes would only reflect them tenfold and instead closed them, allowing Mama to gently push it back inside as the next rotation of watchers replaced it.

The cresting sun didn't warm it's cold skin as the heavy door closed behind it with a solid thunk

[Read more]
Posted: Wed, 10/01/2024 23:09 (10 Months ago)
ye im all good with a pp

also as a general blanket statement: Please feel free to brutally murder my characters in the game! Esp Ibaraki

[Read more]
Posted: Wed, 10/01/2024 22:43 (10 Months ago)
Your Username:
Comfygazing

Character name:
Lynden

Age:
54

Gender:
Has better things to have a crisis over [It/He]

Appearance:
[x]
A silver fox who wears age like a statement piece, Lynden is very clearly past its prime though unfortunate genes did mean that it started greying very early on in its life. Still it makes it work, old tattoos from its youth only starting to fade thanks to regular touch-ups and a physique that speaks to years of hard manual labour. But age has started to catch up to it, deep crows feet that rarely ever wrinkle anymore and the constant presence of well loved (read: kinda busted up) prescription glasses perched atop a slightly crooked nose only the first things you see. Behind these superficial cosmetic changes, old injuries from a rowdy youth means that it is paying for it in the present with constant reminders of its age. But despite it all, Lynden ties its fading hair up into a ponytail, slides pads over aching knees, and fixes cracked lenses over tired brown eyes, venturing out into the hellscape all over again.

Personality:
Lynden is probably the closest thing to kindness that you will ever get in these gods forsaken lands. Though it is gruff and short in its words, very rarely every saying anything beyond the necessities, its the actions that give it away. If there is someone who needs its assistance, it will sternly shoo whoever it is away while throwing something mildly useful at their head. When asked why it would ever waste such precious resources on strangers, all Lynden will do is shrug. "Its what they would have done" is all the explanation that is given. While it never volunteer for night watch shifts, already found in a post long after lots have been drawn, and reluctant to comfort anyone though they will find that somewhere during their breakdown someone had draped a somewhat intact blanket over their shoulders, Lynden likes to keep to itself and work alone. Though, for some reason, no one really ever leaves it alone. Especially not the young ones who yearn for the rare nights where it will sit in the common sleeping areas and with whispered reverence; recite from memory all manners of bedtime stories.

Weapon(s):
Shepherds Sling and Knife

Other:
Bisexual but isn't really looking for romance

Originally lived on a sheep farm in Canada with his husband and daughter before the outbreak. The three of them travelled down to San Francisco after a few years of trying to survive on their own to meet up with his husband's family for better chances of survival but Lynden was the only one who arrived in the ruined city.

Named itself after the city that he used to regularly cross the border to because his husband is a picky asshole and only eats raspberries from Lynden, Washington

Can I add you to a GC with everyone else in the RP?:
Ye

(ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)


[Read more]
Posted: Wed, 10/01/2024 19:25 (10 Months ago)
Username:
Comfygazing

Name:
Lui Ohwada

Age:
21

Pronouns:
He/They

Appearance:
(x)

Personality:
An extreme introvert, Lui has difficulties speaking and interacting with people, often stuttering or clamming up to the point where he has resorted to learning JSL just to talk. Towards strangers, they keep a stoic and aloof disposition, their nervous inability to talk to anyone who they don't know keeping their mouth shut though it only further cements him as unapproachable. Towards those who he chooses to ally himself with, he is quite reliable. He will always follow through with anything that their allies need, with the only expectation that they return the favour. They will help those who need it but keep score with who he has aided. But generally, he is very passionate and enthusiastic when forming connections. Even when silent, Lui is still quite enthusiastic about the things that he loves. Particularly about sea angels. Please never ask them about sea angels if you value your sanity because he can and will bather all day about them. There are certainly benefits to being a marine biologist

They also have a habit of speaking without much thought, being much more direct in his words and at times a little reckless with them. While he is good at co-operating with others, he doesn't do well making actual friends. Even if he is quite lonely and years for friends, he just isn't great at making and maintaining any relationship further than allies. Perhaps his skewed moral compass also plays a part in this, their desire to survive above all else much more pressing over any social propriety

Background information:
Born into poverty, Lui didn't have much to his family's name. While he never really had a roof over their head, he was always good at forming connections in order to survive. Working with other people in the community and fighting for a chance to just live, Lui was more than a little lonely as friends became hard to come by when each person was both an ally and an enemy. While they did find one friend and managed to move into a proper house with his family, that friend soon for reasons that Lui refuses to talk about left, leaving Lui alone once again. As time moved on, Lui never did. Stuck in the past, they only really got a job at the aquarium, never completing any schooling beyond compulsory education. There had never been any reason to keep in contact with his family so after moving out, they never did and simply lived life as the lonely kid they always were.

Connection to home:
Home is, oddly enough, the back ally dumps that Lui grew up in. It is biting cold snow that threatens to freeze off your limbs, flickering lights from failing lamps, a blanket of snow that melted into useless clothes, home is squalor. But home, in some sense is an aquarium, the glass revealing a bounty of animals. Its staring and getting lost in the undulating waves and the refracting light, watching the animals floating around in their tanks.

Password:
Gray

Palpad?:
Ye

Other:
While at the end of the day, in his mind, it is him vs everyone else and is willing to sacrifice others to live, they do have some sense of morality. Where that is though...


[Read more]
Posted: Mon, 08/01/2024 07:00 (10 Months ago)
Name: Ibaraki
Age: 12
Gender:
District: 11
Power: Infernal Hellfire
Within Ibaraki's blood dwells a hellish power. Perhaps the most striking thing about the condition is the increased amount of oxygen that can be carried through Ibaraki's veins. With this trait, Ibaraki's muscles are much stronger than average paired with a monstrous amount of stamina though the downside of such physical prowess comes at the cost of increased oxygen intake to simply function. Another perk of this power is the ability to shapeshift. This manifests primarily as the horn like growths atop Ibaraki's head but feats such as changing appearances, genders, and species are doable but require much more energy the greater the change. As the name suggests, because of the immense power that this skill has it is quite painful to live with as the enhanced blood quite literally feels like being burned alive. With great power comes great responsibility and this is natures way of reminding Ibaraki.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strength: Physically very powerful, able to get along with most people, stubborn and strong willed, astutely perceptive, has a very innocent face, easily underestimated, small and flexible
Weakness: Body is disproportionately weak compared to capabilities and thus easily breaks, chronic pain haver, impulsive and emotionally driven, difficulties planning for the future, no knowledge on how to fight, trusts too easily, easy to take advantage of
Other: Theoretically if you removed all of Ibaraki's blood then the power would be removed as well but Ibaraki would be dead anyways
Reaped under the male catagory but refuses to use any pronouns

Name: Viorel Dalca
Age: 18
Gender: Male
District: 4
Power: Waking Dreamer
Can choose one person who Viorel knows the name and face of and enter their dreams. Viorel doesn't haven't to be asleep for this to work though his victims do have to be, but his physical body is rooted in place and unable to move until he returns. In the world of dreams, he can manipulate how they play out, acting as another actor in the victim's dream. While he can not physically do anything such as kill someone in their dreams, and he is unable to influence any lucid dreams, he can psychologically torture or influence others through his powers. If you wake from a dream with only the vaguest recollections of fragrant violets, that is a sure sign that you have been visited by a wandering uncertainty. Viorel himself does not gain any rest when dream walking.
Strengths and Weaknesses:
Strength: Charming and very adept with words, charismatic, has a wild imagination and boundless creativity, in depth knowledge on fish; fishing equipment; both in making and catching them, pragmatic who is always well prepared, strong swimmer, willing to play the long game and wait out his opponents with extreme patience
Weakness: Less physically capable than his peers, over-thinker, bad at being honest, only forms connections if they're convenient, despite knowing how to preserve food is bad at actually rationing them, takes things a little too personally, would go out of his way to make things dramatic for showmanship's sake, mildly paranoid
Other: In his training class, he has been given the moniker of Lăcrămioara, the wilting lily of the valley

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Posted: Thu, 04/01/2024 02:59 (10 Months ago)
Show hidden content

Character Name | Emil Musabi
Aliases | Gula

Age | 24
Gender | Male
Pronouns | He/It
Sexuality | Panromantic | Asexual | Polyamourous

Appearance

[x]

Despite being one of the top models, Emil has a shockingly plain face. Even with his wavy long hair and slender build, it is still one you could theoretically just pick from a crowd, conventionally attractive in the way most models are and only standing out in terms of the "Asian beauty" trope. While it is true that originally he was nothing but a diversity hire, Emil's true strengths lie within how expressive he can be, through facial acting and body language, but also how his whole demeanor changes depending on the clothes he's wearing. It's why the stagename Gula is synonymous with the image of a facemask.

Personality

ISFJ - The Defender | 2w3 - The Host

When anyone yells Mother in the mansion, it is Emil who replies. He is outwardly the kindest, always earliest to rise to make a balanced breakfast that suits each model's needs, cleaning up after everyone, doing chores. He has everyone's schedules memorized and knows their preferences inside and out. Though, for all that he does, he is quite hard to actually find. Hes always busy doing this, doing that, going to work, attending another meeting, meal prepping for the week, doing another round of laundry, reviewing the schedules they all received, packing someones bag for yet another runway, there isn't a moment when he isn't working. Scarily emotionally perceptive and attuned to the mood of the house, Emil holds the title of least emotionally constipated, which isn't all that hard considering the state of the other models.


For all that he supports the household though, he can be a nag, always chiding everyone on their eating habits especially. No one can live up to his standards and no one will, not even Emil himself.


But perhaps that isn't quite as true as one would think. Emil doesn't... really care all that much about others. He craves the failure that comes with it, a glutton for pain and punishment. Hes a bit of a masochist in that way, always looking for ways to further wreak his health as he overworks himself and stretches himself to the brink of hospitalization. The attention, the eyes that fall on him, the whispers, oh do they drive him to do the impossible. Anything to fill in that lonely cold void that only warms ever so slightly when scathing words cut the deepest. If he has to be nice to attain such a far off wish, then he will use all of his hollow heart to love those who will give him what he wants. They worry for him, they think about him, they are there to yell at him when he under preforms, and if he were to slip up in public? Well, Emil has always believed that all press is good press anyways.


Sin

TW: Non-descriptive Mention of Unspecified Eating Disorders

Gluttony

Oh how Emil craves the bitter taste of failure, of letting down those who relied on you, of everything that pain entails. After all, beauty is pain and Emil knows this more than anyone else. Obsessively watching what he eats has led to his control over the diets of everyone in the house, micromanaging every gram of nutrient, knowing what foods exist in the house, keeping a strict count of how much of everything there is, when you step into the mansion, you are on Emil's territory. Of course, this is hampered somewhat by the fact that he has an awful awful habit of stress eating. Believes his metabolism is high, you see, so into his mouth it goes, and another, and another until the bottle of laxatives just newly bought is empty

who knew that such a bitter taste could be replicated so easily

Additional Info

A talented chef, Emil whips up some of the best tasting food one could ever hope to dine from, some completely renouncing their mother's cooking in favour of his. While his specialty is traditional Japanese food, hes comfortable with other styles of cooking too with very little quality change

He is also one of the managers for the talents. Work never stops even when hes off the clock

Least sought after and lowest paid of the original 7, inwardly very glad that theres another person at the bottom of the proverbial pecking ladder though he'd never say that out loud

He used to be a ryokan heiress, no one really knows why hes a model now

Mainly models street and techwear but will dabble in high fashion and hand modelling. Will firmly reject any traditional Japanese modelling opportunities and forward them to Niwa instead

🤍


[Read more]
Posted: Thu, 14/12/2023 08:07 (11 Months ago)
Username:
Comfygazing

Character name:
Marabou

Gender:
Male

Pronouns:
He/Him

Age:
9

Tribe:
Seawing/Skywing

Outcast or wings of Hope?
Outcast

Special power:
Hybrid

Appearance:
Marabou is a bit of an anomaly, too slim with large unwieldy wings for SeaWings but too short and compact for Skywings, blending into neither tribe with clarity. With pale teal scales and long spiralling horns, he is quite aerodynamic, webbed talons and natural gills lending itself to an aquatic environment though his bio-luminescent patches are smaller, and in some cases, completely missing making communication difficult with other SeaWings.

Personality:
As one of the oldest hatchlings, Marabou is a distant yet protective figure, often staying out of any sort of play and instead making sure that no one is getting hurt while having fun. He approaches life quite pragmatically, considering himself very lucky that he is still alive, and lives as if his time is limited, as if each moment is something that is not his to have. He does not seek death but welcomes it in any capacity that it would reveal itself, often simply accepting things as they are and not too concerned with changing the status quo. As long as he can make something of his life, even if it only means watching over the younger dragonletes, then he is content

Abilities:
Exceptional sight, both seeing quite far and in the dark.
Incredibly aerodynamic but not as powerful. Strong lithe limbs and large wings make for excellent manoeuvrability both in air and in water as well as making him a strong flyer and swimmer

Backstory
Born in the Diamond Spray River, Marabou was primarily raised by his SkyWing Father who hid themselves away in the outskirts of the SkyWing territory, both of them living in the uncertainty of Queen Alpine's inevitable rulership and the brutality that would come with it. When the new decree to imprison all outcasts came, Marabou's home settlement was quickly targeted as being on the cusp of two territories meant that hybrids were aplenty. As a Firescale, his father resisted such a fate for the both of them but the only result was that he would be separated from his son, futile resistance only sealed their fate and Marabou has never seen his father again

Other:
Named after the Marabou Stork
wings of ruin, wings of hope




Username:
Comfygazing

Character name:
Argus

Gender:
Nonbinary

Pronouns:
They/It

Age:
83

Tribe:
SilkWing

Outcast or wings of Hope?
Wings of Hope

role:
Scout

Appearance:
With a pale reddish pink hue, Argus certainly has a more eye catching coloration in part due to its lower wings having trailing tail-like membranes that dance around them like streamers. Its wings have gradients of yellow and white along the edges with longer than average horns and antennae. Clad in old firesilk decorations that seem to be loosing their glow, the most notable of which is a harness of glowsilk draping over their wings that frame their bones in soft sunset hues, Argus is most protective of a simple band of intertwined golden and pale pink silk that sits on its left foreclaw. Overall, most of its proportions are quite long and slender, a blessing in Pantala where trees were aplenty but an annoyance in the hidden caves it begrudgingly calls home

Personality:
Old and jaded by the world, Argus seems reluctant to even help the Wings of Hope that it belongs to, often muttering criticisms and gripes under their breath. But perhaps that is because they are alone, always alone and left to their own devices as the oldest member of the organization. As such, Argus often acts as a voice of temperament and reason, counselling the brash younger generation who so wish to engage in battle with scathing opinions often sitting in meetings to be a contrarian, always forcing the leadership to think, to push past its rebuttals, and form a plan that even Argus can agree with. All of it, for the safety of the young. It is the dragonlets who bring out shadows of the old Argus who had all but disappeared after the brutal murder of its life partner, who get it to speak in gentle tones and dream of crafting things other than the deeply practical armour that it spends most of its days weaving for the Wings. Perhaps they see shadows of familiar faces within such young scales but for the elderly dragon, it is the safety of the hatchlings that always hold its priority

Abilities:
As a SilkWing, Argus is capable of spinning fine silk that is overlaid over each entry point of the base, a living alarm system who can detect who comes in and out. While in their youth, they were one of the best sentries that kept the Wings hidden from enemies and once held the title of lead spy, old age has caught up with it and now in semi-retirement it mostly spins lightweight yet no less sturdy armour for its companions of wear on dangerous outings.

Backstory
Argus was never adventurous, always content to stay in one place forever. It enjoyed the comfortable life in Pantala where its future was set as a weaver who would craft experimental art that could be worn, flaunting its control over silk by weaving intricate designs and patterns. They adored such a life where no one but their creativity was beholden to the whims and rules of life. But its partner, Graellsia, was never content to be tied down. They had meet during school, Graellsia every bit better than they as one with flamesilk. While Argus despised its future husband with a burning sense of inferiority, the same couldn't be said of Graellsia who was always eager to learn from the much more detailed orientated Argus. It was this that pushed Argus to look past its own perceived inequities to forge a genuine connection with the other. By the time they had graduated, Argus and Grae were inseparable, two buds on the same vine who embarked on a journey together. It was Grae, as always, who led the charge, raving of the possibilities that Pyrrhia offered, so different from the rain forests that they had grown up knowing all their lives, and as always Argus followed, their twin unwieldy tails intertwined as they flew towards a exciting unknown

[tbc]

Other:
Named after a species of giant silkworm moths, the Eudaemonia argus, Graellsia is named after the spanish moon moths, Graellsia isabellae
wings of ruin, wings of hope


[Read more]
Posted: Thu, 23/11/2023 23:01 (1 Year ago)
Humming in contemplation, Pantalone briefly wondered if he wouldn't mention such an innocuous mention to the Doctor. It was always a delight to tease the ever unflappable Harbinger, their push and pull of their opposite converging orbits spinning in a manner that Pantalone wasn't at all opposed to. One of the joys of working while mostly stationed in Shneznaya, he supposed, was the never ending entertainment he could find himself wrapped up in as petty squabbling and fatui politics always proved to pass the time quite effectively. And one topic frequently brought up between him and the good Doctor, though he would rarely ever say it aloud as some cards would always be held behind his heart, Ray would always feature heavily in their debates. From small things like her latest achievements to heated debates about who she liked better, their squabbling present even with snide remarks passed over harbinger meetings. Oil and water, never mixing but inseparable from the other.

"Then I'll be sure to listen attentively." Pantalone agreed, tapping his pen idly as he stood up. "And we can have a nice discussion over proper drinks." Pushing open the door, he made a mental note to pick up a few new supplies as he made his way towards the docks. He had a boat to catch in order to keep such a promise, after all. One that held some of the nation's best firewiskey that he suspected would be sorely welcomed for the coming morning when raging headaches and annoyances would undoubtedly rear its bothersome head.

A timid knock came from the grand door, a small voice dutifully announcing "Circinus, your guest has arrived." before it creaked open to reveal the diplomat, not one fold of silk out of place. Smiling in greeting, the Liyuen bowed in deference to who was clearly a superior. "This one greets Circinus." Came the humble greeting, deference in each motion.

[Read more]
Posted: Sat, 18/11/2023 20:09 (1 Year ago)
The crisp air usually cut through delicate lungs with frigid indiscriminate fervour, yet another way that the harsh Snezhnayan landscape seemed dedicated to biting against those who called the land of love their home. But long had the land welcomed those who lived in it with small graces as huddled in within the grand walls of Zapolyarny Palace, the howling winds tamed into a ever present chill that haunted the opulent halls. Treasured away in the inner ventricles, various offices housed the lifeblood that kept their country thriving under the harshest of winters. While they mostly stayed empty and pristine, perfection encased in crystalline memoriam, some Harbingers more than others graced the very home of their archon more than others.

Letting out a sigh, Pantalone let his mind wander away from the pile of work still waiting for his attention. The night was still young of course as he let himself relax for only a moment. Of course as he made sure that the listening dice was affixed firmly on himself, his thoughts naturally latched onto one of the few things he held more tightly than mora. Missions as a harbinger was nothing new, their vanguard always on the move throughout Teyvat and diplomats forging only the most equitable of bonds, Pantalone himself rarely staying in one place for too long, on the perpetual hunt for various investments and opportunities. An unfortunate reality concerning the fluid nature of their duties was that he rarely ever knew with certainty where the rest of his companions were at any given point though he did make it a point to keep himself informed about the whereabouts of a select few precious names.

She would begin to tire of the party, he presumed with an amused hum, lips quirked up as he wondered how she would fare in a city known for its loose revelry and enthusiastic nightlife. He was proven correct as communications crackled with life, the two way lifeline opening with nothing but a breath of much needed air. He hummed in acknowledgement, almost amused at the expected correspondence. For all that they immersed themselves in the ebb and flow of the social game, neither he nor his precious Ray were ever the type to find comfort in large company, preferring instead those who understood them and let their own masks fall to the wayside as well.

As he let the other complain in her own eloquently scathing manner, silent agreeing that even his old region's climate had grown much too foreign for his liking and thus even Mondstatian winters must be equally as dreadful even with its seaside breeze, Pantalone let his own pen scratch idle numbers on empty pages moreso to keep his hand busy rather than any boredom. He hummed noncommittally at Ray's almost probing question, juggling potential answers in his head. It wasn't accusatory, it never was when it came to Ray, her gentle probing only meant to tease out answers with careful hands, but even in the face of saving face and weaving harmless lies, he could never bring himself to mislead the part of his heart willingly carved out for another.

"Perhaps about as much entertainment as one could find while still working." He admitted truthfully, and while he knew Ray couldn't see the wary smile on his face he knew that she would pick it up immediately. "Though Dottore did pass by briefly and sends his regards. Never standing still yet finding the time for drop pleasantries, that man." Shaking his head with mock exasperation, Pantalone let himself enjoy this brief moment of rest as he tipped his head. "Our guest should be arriving just around now, dearest Ray." And I close behind, was the unspoken assurance, his own vessel already in the process of loading its hull with coffers and contracts. He would depart soon but never straying too far, the sound of their shared breaths keeping them company


[Read more]
Posted: Thu, 16/11/2023 20:55 (1 Year ago)
Co-Authors


x Immortes


x Cath~
x Daiko
x Eli_Vanto
x ~Fahrenheit~
x Interna_Chaotica
x Hunterz~Wolf
x RaRaRasputin
x Serendibite
x tasha~
x theinsaneone

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Posted: Thu, 16/11/2023 20:52 (1 Year ago)
Very chaotic good

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Posted: Thu, 16/11/2023 07:21 (1 Year ago)
Shu woke to white walls, buzzing foreign machines, and no recollection of how he had landed himself in this situation.

There were still many things that Shu didn't remember, even after gluing his piecemail memories into a cobblestone mess of coherency. Waking up in the foreign new world with only burn scars weaving together to pull and stretch over his scattered memories and an array of seemingly inconsequential trinkets, he had welcomed the guiding hand that Diamond City provided and stayed in her shadows. The mementos that he had been found with, an outfit much too burned and ripped to be salvageable and all sorts of ornaments much too expensive to be simple accessories he couldn't bear to even let out of his sight, were all that he had to remind him of the past he had been displaced from. And so, with new clothes that his draconic benefactor gifted him as a welcoming gift, he began to accessorize. Charms and tassels from these objects were repurposed and attached to new spots in his needlessly complex attire. The gently swirling nebulae trapped inside a glass pearl was the most difficult to incorporate, too large and clunky to cohesively mesh with his current clothes that exuded crowded minimalism but his very being violently objected to ever parting with such a trinket.

But no matter what he tried to dress himself up in, curses would always respond to his beck and call. And so skin and sinew split apart at his command and his most precious part of himself found its new home in the gentle cradle of his liver, the heart a much too obvious place in his opinion. And so it lived, his life marked by the transition of technology that he fixated on, a way to keep his fingers moving and his mind present as he played with motherboards and hoarded keycaps.

Perhaps his tech-savvy nature paid off as the most well adjusted member of the incoherent mess of time travellers he would soon call family. He had been there when two other-worlders dropped out of the sky screaming and biting at each other's throats, holding onto a bitter grudge with an iron grip as everything else was much too foreign; finding comfort in the cycle of violence that would ever remain no matter the time. Oftentimes Shu found himself stepping between their desperate catfights, soothing their wounded puppy souls as they both came to him licking their stinging wounds and smarting egos.

The detective had been achingly familiar, the wrong name sitting on his tongue every time they greeted each other. He had only known Prospero for a few months before getting burned alive, and while a small part of him felt guilty about using an unaffiliated party to fill in the gaping hole where his memory was, Mysta was easy to love. He was eager to help, always stepping in to explain some concepts that he was familiar with while all too willing to search for answers together. He had held Shu in the middle of the night when he jerked awake, screaming names that held no faces and clawing at the new scars that overlapped the old, a second set of wounds that he had forgotten the origin of. Despite his own problems and struggles, one that Shu too had walked alongside, Mysta was the one friend that Shu had found that they could simply sit together, not a word between them yet the gulf of unspoken understanding only widened by the second.

With Luca, it was the exact opposite. The man exuded enough energy to power two suns. It was a ridiculous notion, there was no way so much power could reside in one person and a mortal at that. But Luca lived to defy expectations and created a criterion that would only be crushed by his unpredictable exuberance, always more of everything than anyone expected. Despite holding all the power and authority of a seasoned mafia boss, the undisputed don of the underworld, he was more than eager to drag his two companions out of their brooding shadows and out into the light. Shu felt himself orbiting the glorious sun, the rays that once scorched him alive until he had been nothing but ashes of a vengeful curse and bitter resentment that now caressed his skin with foreign gentleness.

The old scars no longer anguished him to the point where some days he could do nothing but lay in bed with the curtains drawn, his heart full once more. Though he had warped his soul with enough curses to the point of no return where the twisted monstrosity reflected humanity once more, carefully tucking each flaw and imperfection under the paper thin disguise of normalcy, still some things couldn't be swept under the rug. His wings for one had begun to regrow and though he couldn't recall the circumstances that led to them being ripped off his body in the first place (and often he shuddered at the thought of committing an act heinous enough to warrant such punishment), the fluttering membrane was shining iridescent purple with health. Though they sat pretty on his collarbones for the most part, still so small despite his overwhelming powers that even he didn't know how to wield them to their fullest potential, it would still travel around as it pleased; the only outward signifier of his inhuman identity.

But a monster would always recognize its ilk and so when Elira introduced Ike into their merry ragtag band of displaced time travellers, Shu had bristled at the cosmic indifference that held the "novelist's" soul. His shadows writhed with grasping tendrils, the ocean's deepest secrets hidden behind metal frames and alluring sea glass. He could feel horizontal pupils shrink and dilate as they stared at one another silently, sizing the other up as two creatures who would always escape mortal comprehension attempted to ascertain if the other was a threat. Shu had been content to live his lie, happy enough to simply spend his life with the sun and moon in his grasp, his own light dim in comparison. But here now was an entity that threatened to subsume that place, the gods ever greedy for new disciples; especially those who warped the mortal mind beyond divine recognition. Even if he would never know it, Shu would remain as jealous as he was before his fall, a dragon hoarding his treasure and a monster who loved fiercely and without remorse.

They said that love made monsters of men.

Then what would it do to those truly monstrous?

That answer came in the form of red, the rich dark shade filling in the blues of his veins as his heart spilled out once again from his fragile heart.

In the months following Ike's addition to their mismatched group of idiots, both creatures had drawn their borders, an uneasy peace that only came from the knowledge that it could be broken in a clash of contrasting elements falling over them. Living together would shatter that armistice though they did make an effort to at least meet regularly. Difficult, considering that Mysta had buried himself in coursework in a bid to regain his credentials as a detective and Shu was desperately re-teaching himself two languages so foreign to him yet rolled off his tongue in perfect fluency. Luca too was working on expanding and re-solidifying the Kaneshiro Mafia's influence in the underworld, the shell of the once great organization being slowly rebuilt from the ground up with blood as its foundation. Ike was the only one who seemed to have a flexible schedule but even then, they made it work through sheer stubborn willpower. Something, they all found, was a shared trait among them.

It was in one of these occasional hangouts that all three of their newly acquired phones received a text, the simultaneous nature of the message only pointing to one possible sender. The only content of the message displayed an address, one close enough to them that Shu had to wonder if Elira had been actively tracking them. That notion sent spiders crawling down his shoulders no matter how much he spun it, rebelling under the watchful eye of the Seer of All despite his ignorance as to why. Still, they obediently followed the shepherd as if they were nothing but pawns under her gloved hands, another dragon to train and move at her whims.

The address led them to one of the many Japanese style gardens scattered around the city, a joint personal pet project of their Tidal Ruler and Nature’s Emissary. Shu had a few mixed feelings regarding it though many were positive. They were a window into their wonderfully monstrous world, a way to be immersed in the harsh environments that birthed their very core. But some of them, certain scenery would spark against his skin in uncomfortable embers, flaming across old scars in tongues that left only grief so heavy yet confusing that he could do nothing but hold back weeping tears, faces obscured by time haunting his every breath. As the group rounded the corner, passing through the arching wisteria gates that denoted their passage into the spiritual oasis of a scenery long gone, Shu knew that the sprawling decedent debauchery before him was one such spot.

The gardens reflected the nature of the supernatural, beauty found in each leaning bough and carefully raked stone river, the red soil and ground up bones that nurtured such beauty uncovered and displayed proudly in the scenery. Babbling brooks snaked through the drab scenery, enshrining the center in an ecosystem of flourishing opulence and crawling beauty.

And in the middle of it, bracketed by the red leaves of autumn and the last whispers of summer, his heart began to beat once again.

Shu was aware of how asinine he must have appeared, slack jawed and bug eyed as his eyes beaded with tears that threatened to fall in a cascade of pearls. However, the haori that fell from the figure's shoulders stitched his focus on the mysterious figure who held a second heart so close to his chest that they had long since become one. Floating camellia petals beckoned him forth and he dared not refuse their siren song. He could feel the questioning gazes on him, curiosity an insatiable beast that prowled through his companions yet Shu simply ignored them. There were much better things to focus his attention on.

"I knew you," Shu revered out loud, approaching the man who reeked of a demon drenched in blood yet the gentle allure that entangled mortals in a web of lies quelled any fears that his trembling heart could have concocted. "Once upon a dream."

An unknown emotion flitted over golden eyes absent of any flourishing makeup, rimmed only with simple red pen. Hurt, perhaps, or devastation may be a more apt descriptor. But it was gone as quickly as a sparrow flees, only there for a fleeting glimpse before it would be spirited away into a box for no one to see again. "Yes, yes you did, bellflower. Even if time has pulled us apart, I still chase your shadow like a dream so sweet can I even dare call this reality?"

There truly was no stopping the peel of laughter that slipped from an unguarded tongue, charmed beyond comprehension by the familiar stranger that spoke in dulcet temptations and perfect flattery. His single earring chimed against nothing as with a simple curse, Shu alighted before the demon, modest modern cotton that felt inadequate before a monster wreathed in centuries old strength fluttering as quickly as his dead heart. “I see that in the years in which I had lost to fire and smoke, the meaning once ascribed to 'widower' has been replaced with 'dream'?” He teased, the words slipping out of his mouth without a second thought as the shock mirrored itself in the handsome curve of unpainted eyebrows and teasing curl of the lips.

Perhaps some part of Shu really did know the alluring demon once upon a dream, waiting upon the gentle banter that was to come only to be surprised when steady arms wrapped around his waist to draw him close. A head devoid of a crown of horns buried itself into the soft slope of his neck, nosing along the pale skin free of blemishes and redness, the high collar only barely sitting flush against the curse that kept his skin as gentle as it appeared. "Even under my touch, this mirage does not waver…" The incredulous words were pressed into the thin fabric, the fangless mouth pressed only the most reverent of affection upon his clothed form. "Oh, my heart, my life, everything that I take breath for. For all my delusions and waking nightmares, not once have I dared conjure up this scene. If Inari-sama finally sought to bless me with a stroke of illusionary comfort in my final moments then I will gratefully accept this parting gift."

His laugh caught in his throat, wet and shaky as his vision blurred, interpolating different images of someone he used to know. Shu knew this demon, his body had not yet lost the memory of their trysts, aching for kisses that left smouldering desire and a touch that burned in ways that only gave him life and pleasure. "How cruel you are to call me anything but flesh and blood who stands before you hale and hearty." He scoffed, voice warbling as he weakly hit the ghost of his past. A hole that Shu hadn't even cognizantly recognized filled itself and overflowed with delight, nearly overwhelmed as his soul rejoiced in this clandestined reunion.

"Forgive this foolish husband." Vox, for that was his name though never spoken as it was intrinsically carved into his being, choked, voice cracking over familiar symbols. Before the question sitting heavy on his tempered tongue could fill in the gaps in his patchwork memory, the man he probably should be more surprised to learn was his husband coloured the emptiness with crooning apologies. "Forgive him for leaving his beloved wife in his time of need, for arriving too late at the final breath, for taking so long to even catch wind of your timeless name on unworthy lips. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, holder of my broken heart, I have failed you."

Crystalline tears rolling innumerable carats down age worn, battle scarred cheeks dropped hollow echoes onto his breastbone as Shu gently cupped his face to examine it clearly. Lines had made their home under those dazzling golden eyes, a mark of time's unstoppable march as the beginnings of crow's feet made itself at home along the crinkled corners of his red rimmed lashes. He was beautiful, Shu noted absently as he gently rubbed cascading tears into soft skin, even memory couldn't hope to capture such divine allure.

"What is there to apologize for when it should be I who bows my remorseful head before you?" He refuted easily as Vox gently caught his hand, bringing it to his cheek to lean into with trepidatious hope, breath hitching at the gentle rebuke that came from plush lips pressed against his own soft palm. "This unworthy wife has gone and forgotten his husband, left only the fragments of a dream I never want to end, cloying in its fading touches remaining of the times we must have spent as a whole."

While Shu had never imagined the reunion of an existence so intrinsic to his very existence as Yamino Shu that he had no knowledge of just an hour prior, laughter so strong that even his own bones trembled under the force of his mirth still caught him completely unawares. Strong arms once again pull him flush against an ample chest that has fire erupt under his cheeks, the whistling catcalls and illumination of amaranth light dancing across ivory skin only stoking the flames to burn hot embarrassment. He was no curseling whose magicks was untempered by a heart's whims, velvet chuckles the mortifying backdrop as he tampered his flames into nothing but an ember in his hollow chest.

"How long has it been since I've had the honour of witnessing such ardent displays," Vox murmured, eyes crinkled with an affection boundless and overwhelming Shu almost felt as if he would drown in them if he stared too much. Though he wouldn't object to such a fate, the warmth that endured in molten gold invited him into their devoted embrace. "No matter how many lives pass and memories fade, you are mine and mine alone. I will find you each time you draw breath, our souls intertwined until the universe can only acknowledge us as one being, unknowing of where one ends and the other begins. Your heart lies in my chest and there it will stay forevermore." Callused hands large enough to make Shu swallow pressed boldly against his belly, applying pressure as if that would yield the hard rounds of his greatest treasure.

And perhaps it did as his liver warmed under the touch, its hidden companion singing with elation at the touch of its other half. And while it was nothing as the movies that Elira dragged him to depicted, neither a numinous moment nor a strike of lightning but the warm embrace of coming home after a stormy night, the warm crackle of the hearth warming bone-chilled limbs.

Perhaps it was this inexplicable feeling of his fragmented self slotting into place or the familiar comforts this fictional stranger unhesitatingly provided but courage gripped his tongue and let his lips move under its reckless abandon. "Then this wife forevermore will bind himself to you, my Lord. Just as my heart has grafted its home in your chest so too has yours left mine hollow and yearning. Even if another comes to fill such vacuous horrors tailored to your touch, such flights would only deepen my yearning." He assured, vows binding his words in a curse that only strengthened its existence. A quiet part of his soul sung with the knowledge that this was not the first time he had made such a vow, their soul one and the same.

"Which is great and all, but mind explaining what is even going on?" A sharp voice cut through, penetrating their single world that held nothing but them, dragging reality back into their sphere. Shu could almost see a lashing tail and sharp agitated ears as his companions watched on with various expressions ranging from exasperated to curious.

While the irk of a ruined moment long overdue broken under prying eyes burned resentment deep into his heart, lips peeled back in his disgruntlement, Vox seemed to amuse himself with the interruption. "Prospero's ilk?" He wondered as if appraising the gathered strangers with all the authority of a dethroned Lord. If his gaze lingered on the cosmic emissary, Shu made no acknowledgement of it, instead letting the demon take the stage no less charismatic than as he was once during his dreams. "Greetings, I am Vox Akuma, a pleasure to meet the ones who have taken such great care of my Shu in my absence."

His tongue wrapped around his name in alluring comforts, familiar and beloved emanating each syllable. While Shu wasn't one to have reservations concerning the supernatural and the going ons that embodied his fragmented recollection of his own being, the irrefutable power of a name as precious as his own laid any lingering phantoms to a peaceful rest. Some others though evidently didn't hold the same opinions, two distinct growls rising up at the clashing views.

"Your Shu?" Mysta hissed, blue eyes narrowed until only a band of colour could be seen between his furious gaze. "My Shu never mentioned a Box Acomer or whatever your name is, nor being friends with a demon at that. Let alone married. Cut all the acting and tell us what you're really here for."

"And let Shu go too!" Luca tacked on helpfully, the hard lines of a furrow set into his forehead. Both of them looked so precious like that, small cubs snarling at a bigger predator, still too young to understand that they simply stood no chance against the millennia of experience that outstretched theirs. Shu frowned as Vox obligingly took a step away with a teasing smile and hands held up in the air placatingly. When had he begun to think like that? He could feel the warm caress of something on the edges of his mindscape, sending gentle ripples over the once still clear waters, a flicker of envious embers that lingered only for a warming moment before his own mind reinstated its rightful place as the front.

Shaking his head at the concerned looks that his companions both past and present gave him, Shu let himself briefly mourn the warmth that had previously surrounded him before straightening out the various ruffles and accessories of his elaborate outfit while Vox's dulcet assurances soothed raised hackles. Gazing at his supposed husband, the familiar presence made itself known once more, draped in pale green glaze that only coated his mind in lascivious greed and desire. While he had never cursed his faulty memory that never seemed to mend itself after that first awakening, he now more than ever yearned for the answers that lay beyond his grasp. For his unspoken question to be heard by the unfeeling abyss that swallowed who he had once been.

But that frustration gave way to the hope that not all had been lost to the fires of the past, that its ashes still lingered in his lungs. "Mysta," Shu gently cut through the growing argument as the immovable demon stood fast against an unstoppable thirst for knowledge, their bickering serving as mere entertainment for a cosmic entity. "I can't recall much from before I woke up in the hospital, remember? Even if there isn't any proof of it, isn't it better to at least see what he has to say?" He suggested, laying a hand on his Heart's arm as the zephyrs melted under his request and a walk across the winds placed time weary feet on the same ground as his companions. "And you, husband or not, no right has been given to tease those already on edge. Certainly not my own brother no less." The hand that one steadied turned admonishing as it landed a smarting blow against the meat of a well muscled arm.

Vox's loud theatrical whines did little to impress the heart that once was freely his nor did Mysta's best impression of a pathetic wet cat spark any pity. "No proof? What if I said that I did?" Vox pouted, golden eyes gleaming with a hint of trouble that had the already cautious Jujutsushi on alert, as if such a look had long since been documented as trouble in the depths of his soul.

"What proof could you have that survived over 500 years?" Luca scoffed, the added volume of his decadently fluffed jacket a mane of fire that transformed the once cub into a fearsome lion capable of contesting even the most fearsome of prey. While much less vocal than Mysta, eyes that held skeptical mysticism had never once left Vox's face, sizing his opponent up with discerning experience. It felt so familiar, his sharp gaze reminiscent of a bygone era where such scrutiny afflicted all who wished to survive during its warring conflicts that crossed blades each day.

Despite the hardened inspection, Vox only laughed, draping an arm around Shu's shoulder to lean his whole weight against him, long fingers tangling into iridescent hair. The motion felt almost instinctual to lean into, the beginnings of a rumbling purr sitting low on his collarbones. "Sure there is. You, for example. Your progenitor originally left present day Japan almost 400 years ago and is my only surviving legacy of a long murdered clan. Mysta as well, I was well acquainted with your ancestor and I'm sure you could probably still ask them if they ever decided to listen to mortal pleas more than once a century." Nails blunted from time gently scratched against the sensitive skin of his scalp and Shu felt his bones melt under the familiar ministrations, soul singing under the gentle touch as it travelled to the base of his neck, the barest pressure softening his soul.

"While pulling out a whole family tree is well and good, do you not have more tangible proof?" Ike asked dryly, seaglass glittering with an unfathomable ocean of gluttony, knowledge it's only satiator. "A second witness, perhaps, or artifacts of any kind? It's not that I don't believe you but understand that such accounts are difficult to accept without substantial backing for these quite personal claims." Pen nib earrings reflected writing shadows, reaching limbs seeking to entangle them in a prey that so rarely presented itself so willingly to members outside of their hellish circle.

The simple thought of an emanator of a higher being that left nothing but empty husks in its pursuit of cosmic enlightenment and expanding studies taking interest in what was rightfully his set each fiber of his existence on edge. The autumn leaves that rained endlessly to bracket boundless blues struck a chord with the green that coated his tongue, a familiar possession clouding his mind in a haze that demanded only absolute ownership. But before that beastly governance could bear its possessive fangs, blunt nails raked down a sensitive scalp and sent a frisson of something racing through frayed neuros and dragged his eyes back to crimson understanding.

"Darling, check the weave of my earring?" Vox hummed, amusement dancing on the syllables as he tucked a curtain of ink behind pointed ear. The knowing bend of bowed lips paired with a pleased golden gleam pulled a scowl from Shu as he tugged on the offered accessory in reprimand. Still, he acquiesced and ran a finger across tasseled flax. This close, he could smell the barest hint of tangy camelias which added an almost citrusy note to a smell that welcomed his presence back with open arms. But that fell into the background as he ran his fingers over the smooth hemp, textures of a pattern long lost to the sands of time pressing against his pads. How long ago had it been since he had sat in his grandmother’s lap, running his uncalloused hands over red dyed hemp not yet dexterous enough for somatic casting but curious enough to pull rope over heirloom wooden looms that had weaved binding vows for generations.

“It's a Yamino weave.” He declared breathlessly, already grasping the red rope tied alluringly around pale skin that almost begged to be tugged on. “A wedding pattern too… Did you seriously wear my wedding gifts for centuries?!”

Shu’s face burned with mortification as Vox let out a boisterous laugh content to be a punching bag as Mysta’s crackles joined in the humiliation. “Is that proof enough for you, O deity of the primordial cosmic seas? I’m sure I can be persuaded to part with any jewelry that has not been generously gifted to me by my wife’s hand if you wish to appraise it with a third party.” The demon leered, jangling his wrist with hollow clacks almost mockingly as he lifted a beaded arm for the other to inspect, neatly dancing around Shu's mortification.

Ike clicked his tongue at the title, but conceded as Vox draped himself unabashedly over Shu’s shirking form as the heat on his face threatened to burn away any semblance of propriety. “Shameless.” He scolded without any heat, voice croaking behind the veil of unabashed affection and wonder at this small piece of his heart trapped in time and returned to him in a shower of autumn leaves and smokey camilia. Thick fingers calloused and warped from the centuries of wandering loneliness wrapped around strands smoothed over by modern formulas. The mark of life's endless march weaving in timeless comfort, clashes of a past unremembered and undefined present sending jolts of pleasant shivers rolling through long denied nerves. And unbridled, the hunger of a lifetime of longing locked away in an emerald cage unknown till this moment spilled over into the barest uptick of weary lips.

Yes, his world had ended in a sea of flames. Never again would he see the faces of children too young to even know what it truly meant to curse each other, of hawkers who held his title so warmly on their tongues, a life that had burned along with his existence as Yamino Shu, Lady of the Lands, Leader of the dying Jujutsushi, and the illustrious wife of the Demon Lord. He was simply Shu. A regular guy who liked playing osu maybe a bit too much, drank sparkling water willingly, and just so happened to curse just a little too well.

But the jealousy pleased curdle of satisfaction that ripped through his chest whenever that enrapturing golden gaze graced him with undivided attention spoke differently, envious greed grasping for any shred of affection quelled under an ocean of devoted eternity that stretched past unfathomable depths. The ugly emotions that had rarely ever prominently fronted curled deep in his chest in rumbling purrs as it relished in the cruel satisfaction of owning someone in every life beyond. His Vox. His husband. His.

And even if it was the heavens again tearing his soul asunder, never again would he let what is rightfully his go.

[Read more]
Posted: Thu, 16/11/2023 07:21 (1 Year ago)


Like always, Shu woke up with a soft touch running across his scalp, playing with his hair.

He hummed, leaning into the warm brush of fingers as he sleepily begged for more. A chuckle sounded above him, heavy and rumbling through his body as the fingers obliged and carded through his tangled hair in comforting waves. Carefully clipped nails gently teased apart the many knots and tangles that had twisted themselves into his hair throughout the night, careful to ease them loose without any unnecessary tugging. The familiar ministrations only quelled his rippling mind, as still as the tranquil lakes that framed the peaked mountain tops of the holy seats.

A slight disturbance pebbled out on clear waters, iridescent bubbles rising to the surface as he was gently teased out of his slumber through the skillful drag of clawed nails against his delicate scalp. Squirming under the gentle rake, he gently pried one eye open, blindly fumbling around before a second hand interlaced with his. As awareness began to trickle back into his reluctant brain, he relished at the feeling of being sprawled over their shared futon with only a thin blanket to cover their bare form; a sight only reserved for each other's honoured gaze. Like this, the nebulous future that had hung over them, their own Sword of Damascus, had finally arrived at their threshold. War was here in the smell of copper plates of armour and the promise of death on the horizon.

And while Shu wanted nothing more than to turn a blind eye to it, keep his head pressed against the soft fabrics of bed and stay in the marvellous dreams of domestic tranquillity, a part of him relished in the coming copper that would dye his lips a red only war could press on. After all, monsters, while being creatures of habit, were ones of habitual destruction, hearts singing at the suffering and ostentation of the world.

Even though Shu would agree to fight for the Clan, giving its members his soft affection and all that it entailed, Vox loved them. Loved them as if they were his children, his family, his everything though his heart would always jealously belong to his Lady. Shu couldn't quite understand. No matter how much reverence and worship they would give them, mortals held fleeting lives. Unlike the blessed monsters who lived a hundred human lives in a blink, their feeble clan would only last a scant few scores before they would eventually drift away into the annals of history, forgotten all in a single breath.

Perhaps that was the one thing that they could never agree on. But Shu always knew that Vox had much too soft of a heart, giving and giving as much of himself to others. It was Shu's unfortunate responsibility as his better half to temper that urge, to zealously hoard all the parts of Vox to himself until the demon was unquestionably his in every way that mattered.

And so, he refused to wake from this ephemeral wonderland where no one else existed, the moon orbiting his sun as faithfully as a younger brother chased after his elder sister's skirts, basking under his warm touches and gentle affection. This, not the clan, was his paradise. And he would fight tooth to final nail just to remain in this fleeting moment of perfection.

Alas, his husband was about as stubborn as he and his teasing touches migrated down his face and onto his neck, gently scruffing him into coherence. "Come now, bellflower. It is time. While you may cling to sleep, others still hold their lives in white knuckles grips. Who are we to pry their fingers free?" The gentle coercion only made him that much more unwilling to concede to the bargaining. Even the allure that cloaked his voice in compulsion and jelly soft compliance felt like summer showers against his skin, gentle and effective in only pulling him closer to peaceful slumber.

"And I cling closer to you than I do life. Even Shinigami-sama would find it moving a mountain easier than pulling me away from you." Shu countered, only gracing his heart with a half lidded stare before his eyelids fluttered close once more. If War and her sister Death was all that awaited them outside the partitioned walls of their room, who could ever blame him for his untamed avarice, hoarding whatever bare comforts he could before their inevitable clash?

The harmonious laugh that it pulled from his heart was more than enough compensation, the sound that kept his breath flowing and eyes soft melting him deeper into the mattress. "I'm sorry my dearest wife, if it was any other day I would have left you to your peaceful slumber." Vox freely admitted, the hand that never left his face combing stray hairs behind a sharp ear, lingering on the undertones of violet and magenta streaking through the night. The callused pad of his thumb grazed over the pierced holes in delicate flesh, the soft touch sent gentle shivers wracking through his skin, flesh prickling under the reverence of a perverse deity. "But today the sun sets and we are to be the ones to stop her spiral."

Though no names were spoken, the low growl that reverberated with his soul was more than enough for Shu to chase the familiar curse that wrapped his mind in the early morning away. As if reminding him of his grudges and vengeance, his old scars burned in time with her betrayal. Shu was never quite the type to forgive and forget, digging his claws into each slight and ripping them apart to his satisfaction and here in this moment was an opportunity to do and sate his bloodlust. But it didn't burn for long, the trailing caress of a steady hand that radiated a cooling warmth tracing a single pattern in repeated devotion over old curses, dispelling resentment with a simple touch. "Patience, my Dearest. Soon, but not now. Temper your rage and let it simmer. The time to sink your teeth into suitable prey will come." Vox cooed, the slight tickle of blunt nails scratching the underside of his vulnerable chin sending pleasant tremors to his heart. The balm of reassurance spread over his thrumming soul, the promise of retribution encasing his molten rage into a flimsy shell.

Letting out a breath, Shu let the bubbling need for blood to be shed be appeased by the gentle tracing of a familiar spell over one of Vox's hearts. The steady pressure welled red under his sharp wicked touch, dribbling down gentle rounds to pool between Vox's chest though it never grew wider than a trickle. Blood, after all, was worth more than gold to the ravenous monsters they housed as their souls. With the curse carved deep into his soul, scratched skin already knitting itself back together in a web of muscle and sinew, Shu smiled sweetly and let his fingers dip into the lingering red, gathering the coveted liquid on the pads as he smeared it over his forehead in loving strokes. A curse strong enough to bind them together even through death and into oblivion and a symbol of possession that allowed for no thoughts but of his owner both willingly drawn and accepted.

"Yes… soon." He agreed, mirroring the gesture to gently run cursed ridden hands over the delicate rise of his heart's sloping horns. "And once this is all over, we'll pour a drink as black as our sins."

The dry chuckle that greeted his words said more than enough as he briefly closed amber eyes under the gentle touch upon the sensitive crown. "Yes, yes we will. But in order to see this tragedy through to its end, we must first rise from this idyllic prologue." Vox agreed warmly, fondness dripping off each syllable yet he made no move himself to rise from the enchanting embrace of a warm futon.

"Hypocrite." Shu teased and the helpless smirk that spread over Vox's plush lips only belied their true nature. Creatures of sin some would cry. No, they were only true to their own desires. Avarice was their crowning glory as they swam in their desires and the pleasures of their own making.

And in that ephemeral wonderland of a perfect utopia, they invited themselves to be lost in the swaths of adoration that filled their shared space until they drowned in the overwhelming feeling. Purple resonated in gold, royal colours reflected in cyclical harmony to produce only the purest of devotion created from the sinking of teeth into flesh and lapping of blood, from confessing the dirtiest of secrets and met with equally heinous sins in return with no absolution in sight; only damnation.

"Okay get up, we've dawdled for far too long." Vox hastily declared, as he hurriedly threw the blankets off his form and only entangled himself even further in their lining embrace.

The split of silent laughter cut through the dreary morning like a toll, interspersed wheezing heralding their final stand.

By the time it came for them to slide on their regalia, weapons of the coming bloodshed strapped to their hands and maps brought from the war room laid out before them, furrowed brows replaced the creased crows' feet as steady hands leafed through papers and protective fabric. The gentle hands that crowned ebony hair with gifts of crimson and gold became secondary to the traded murmurs whispered in low voices even if the only occupants of their sanctuary would only ever be them. Talks of the future only ceased once Shu took cinnabar paint in hand, wetting the brush as the cosmetic particles clung to the moisture in steady strokes.

For years the Curse of Love had clung to his heart, invading his heart and mind the moment he found a bloody battered demon at his clan's gates only a welp whose pureist wish was to survive, his iron will found in the unyielding grip on a well used rusted katana. It ate at him, feasting on the desire and untarnished want that would always fill his twisted heart whenever Vox would so much as hold a whisper of his thoughts. In return, for his cursed obsession, he would cast any obstacles in their path into oblivion, the power of only the most wretched and cruel of curses at his fingertips. And with this salvation at his disposal, came the ability to fiercely hoard what was his.

The ticklish glide of bristles over sensitive skin left behind a vermilion trail as the spell sank into supple skin with each blot of ink that was left behind. Another was drawn over Vox's chest, the urge to admire and lavish the fruits of his labour nearly derailing his almost ritualistic trance, yet he kept strong even in the face of overwhelming temptation. The back of hands and marked up thighs too received the same sweeping sigil, worshiping lips trailing over cinnabar devotion.

"For as long as I remain on this world so intent on pulling apart the string we tied with our obsessions, so too will you wander aimlessly. Even if one ceases to beat, all of your hearts resonate for me and only me. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine." Seeing his crimson cursework lattice spider across his husband sent possessive glee coursing through his being, a hand coming up to press gently against a web of scars that crawled starburst desire, a wound that Shu himself had left on his beloved's skin, left as a permanent reminder to heal with raised skin and embraced in its mutilated glory.

As if a mirror following his movements, Vox too pressed his palm against the gentle rise of Shu's stomach, steady fingers wrapping safety around the curve of his waist. Their hearts echoed in foreign bodies, pumping sacred oath through devoted limbs and worshiped lips as they warmed under the touch of their creator. Cyclical obsession pulsed in three fours, a waltz of envy and desire pulling each other into orbit and mutual destruction. And Shu revelled in such an end, fingers tracing teasing shapes over the goose fleshed skin, gut tightening as the hand at his waist flexed in silent warning.

"For as long as I draw breath, your heart is mine to use as I please as it skips in time to the beat of our inevitable demise. You can run to anyone and find shelter in their arms but when it comes time it is always going to be me who is your first and only choice. Me, and only me." Vox snarled, promise set in the wild grin that blazed in his eyes, the spark of possessiveness crumbling into a raging inferno that only knew to consume and destroy. Shu didn't even try to conceal the ravenous hunger that gnawed at his heart, his every being screaming for the avarice that he knew he could satiate.

But lust of a different kind still burned Shu alive and he pulled away from devouring obsession flushed and with a heaving chest that fought for the obsessive possession offered freely. "My heart, we really have to stop being so entangled in each other." He giggled, the hand once trapped between their melded bodies now pressing back against an insistent broad chest.

Even pleading whines from kiss swollen lips couldn't sway him as he simply cloaked him in the ceremonial garbs fitting for a Lord to lead his army in. Shu muffled his own mirth as he tightened hellfire forged vambraces with practiced movements, drinking in the sight of a mighty warlord pouting at his wife's feet, clothed in silks that had been the final sight for many an unfortunate soul. Even as vermilion undertones running through onyx veins refracted scattered bloody light across the tatami, not a drop of impurity could ever touch the alluring voice demon who sat with the confidence of a lost battle in a won war.

Resisting the urge to smear red across his lips, Shu settled for running reverent hands across his form. "What an obedient husband, listening to his wife's whims even if slight scolding was warranted. Ah, what was it that you said..." Shu mused, slipping paper curses under the heavy folds of bewitched fabrics. "That's my girl?" His heart sparkled with mischievous delight at the wild red that bloomed freely across pale cheeks, flushed with the reminder of his midnight whispers in another's ear.

However, instead of words that snowballed out of a hasty mouth, spitballed explanations spurred on by flustered defence, a sly given wobbled into place; a deviation of their script. "Green is such a beautiful colour on you," Vox murmured, hands flexing comfortably around enclothed waist. One came up to gently brush away flyaway strands, the smug smile proudly affixed to his face leaving Shu gaping with joyful disbelief. "You've never been very good with sharing, have you darling?"

With a snarl, Shu disregarded his own stupidly self-imposed rules and brought their lips crashing together, vermillion smudge passed between hungry gasps and groans. The arms that had been resting lazily on the gentle curves of his hips came to grip tightly around his waist, holding fast yet never drawing in for more in a way that pleased Shu immensely. Devouring every sound that escaped from Vox's begging lips, Shu only pulled himself away from his meal as the reminder of ever flowing time crept up on him.

Though he had no need for breath, still his chest fought for more of that addicting possession as he gazed upon his work in triumphant glee. It was such a fetching look on the all-powerful demon who rarely showed anything less than absolute composure, the flushed blown out look in his golden eyes. A haze of desire had clouded them in charming shades of red, spit slick lips that had long lost its rouge parted slightly with gasping breaths that wracked Vox's body in delicious ways. He gently tucked loosened strands of hair behind his pointed ear, pressing a final lingering kiss on his love's forehead, right over the trailing red ink. "You are mine. Mine, you understand?" He spat, low voice humming right next to a sensitive ear tinged red as woefully blunt teeth sank into the supple skin in admonishment. "A curse willingly accepted can't ever be undone. Flirt with all the young mortals you fancy, you'll see this green as many times as you wish." The pleased grin he received in return, overflowing with a tidal wave of satisfaction and desire that threatened to sweep them away more than worth the uncharacteristically vocal declaration of possession.

"I do so adore my wife so much." Vox sighed dreamily, smitten adoration colouring each word in velveteen decadence.

Shu could only scoff as he slid out of his pining husband's warm lap. "As you should."

In stark opposition to his husband, Shu spent remarkably less time getting ready. After all, he always fought better with a concealed presence and the ability to blend in with the masses. A viper lying in wait for his prey to stumble into his venomous jaws, striking with deadly speed and leaving nothing but distressed grass and cooling bodies in his wake. A simple black yukata was more than enough to blend in with the shadows he called a second home, its warm embrace more familiar than any touch and the only constant in his life.

However, he did allow his husband the luxury of pulling his hair into an elaborate enough hairstyle to slip on his wedding gifts, anklets locked tightly in place and conjoined souls resting snugly against the hollow of his throat. Gold as pure as his bonds did not tarnish easily, glimmering wealth as if they had just been newly forged and not relics spanning decades in the making. Certainly eye catching but Shu knew that even in the shadows they would neither betray his location nor hinder the wind at his feet. These were his possessions and they would obey the whims of the one they were gifted to.

With a lingering kiss on his forehead, his husband's personal mark spidered deep into Shu's skin in a bloom of red demonic magic, Vox drew away with a warm smile. "There we go, all done." He adored, tucking baby hairs that couldn't be braided into place out of his face. "Beautiful in everything you wear, my wife always looks his best even more so when he is about to curse thousands to a condemned life where death would be a luxury."

Giggling at the flattery, Shu indulged in the easy affection and tenderness, with his own hands trailing over armoured planes and curse en-woven cloth. "One day that silver tongue of yours won't give you the prize you seek." He noted beguilingly with a gentle punch to his side that had wandering hands skittering back to safety. At his husband's exaggerated pout, rouge smeared over puffy lips that shone with shared spit, Shu acquitted slightly but only enough to drop the faintest of pecks before drawing away.

"Come now, the smell of Death approaches and delaying will only grow her foul stench." He cajoled, drawing lingering touches back into the depths of his heart. Even if Vox chased after the sparse affection, Shu would not relent. Indulgence could wait until after their tools had drunk their fill of blood.

But even as they strode together through the ominously silent hallways, all sense of proprietary disregarded in the face of War, Shu found himself yearning for that image of Vox's solid back walking three steps before him.

He only got that wish when the shadows welcomed him back into their embrace and Vox stood as glorious as the sun he rivaled. Meeting Tokugawa with the banks of death gurgling quietly behind and an innumerable army before was nothing new. These bloodthirsty lands served as the vast unmarked resting place of many a foolish conqueror and countless armies who thought themselves worthy of cutting down the indomitable Akuma clan. And today, it would subsume yet another.

In the middle, a meeting of warlords as the sun that peaked over their encounter cast long shadows that never seemed to intersect. "Akuma." The human seemed fearless in the face of overwhelming power no mortal could even dream of attaining, back ramrod straight as the weight of a general sat heavily across finely crafted armour. Inlaid gold rested gaudily on fragile shoulders and even the kabuto helmet that could withstand hundreds of blows seemed paper thin in comparison.

"Tokugawa." The same tone was thrown back at the arrogant human, the demon wearing another mortal's skin standing in opposition to the conquest's unyielding march. How laughable it must be to an onlooker, that a lone man couldn't hope to hold back an army vast enough to blot out the horizon with their numbers with nothing but his stronghold at his back.

Perhaps the so-called Unifier of the Island was one such soul as he made a show of peering around his demonic form. "And your army?" He sneered, lips curling under the ornamental helmet that could oh so easily crumple under any one of their pinkies. Hammered copper and bronze meant nothing in the face of magic that endlessly consumed.

Humans would only be doomed to repeat their folly, not once learning from the sins of the past.

"What army would I need, when facing against mere mortals clad in ridiculous sheets of flimsy metal?" Vox mocked, the lazy self-assurance settling beautifully to twist his handsome features into the epitome of delectable. Cocky, some would doubtlessly dub them. Mouthwateringly sexy, Shu would argue, restraining the all encompassing urge to devour the man who was his in every conceivable way.

It seemed as if Tokugawa was of a different opinion, not uncommon but still disappointing that no one could see the unhinged beauty in the near universal desire for bloodshed. "That will be your undoing, Akuma. Curse your own prideful self as your home burns to ashes." Was the curt reply as Tokugawa raised a hand. As if one singular being, hands were raised and pulled back, gleaming arrowheads alight with the intoxicating smoulder of war.

With a slither of countless bowstrings, a rain of fire flickered in the scorching sunlight as it soared over the ignorant settlement and ever so subtly the licking orange flames hued to a deep purple blaze. With a burst of unnatural heat, supernatural power ate away at common wood with blazing foracity cloaked in violet, leaving nothing but a shower of light ash that once was almost certain doom.

"There is nothing you can do that will hurt us." Vox snarled once more, vicious victory painted across his barely concealed tusks. "You will not hurt my people, conqueror." The ripples of noise that echoed through the enemy ranks only seemed to reinforce such ideas but even from his place as Vox's shadow, Shu could see that Tokugawa's expression had stayed as stony as ever. Their initial attack had fallen to the wayside, nothing more than black flecks carried away by fickle winds and nothing but apathy to show for it. The shadows reeked of suspicion and Shu cast his eyes out in seeking inquiry, familiar sulfur and burnished bronze assaulting his senses in an instant, drawing forth misty tears and alarmed alertness.

His warning barely brushed against Vox's wary mindscape before Shu felt his curses break, the delicate craftwork smashed apart into a shower of polarized staurolite. The unrelenting flood of heat ripping at their back almost seemed negligible as Shu stumbled out from the shadows, shards of shattered curses piercing his throat as he gagged and retched on the residual magic forcefully shoved back into a delicate vessel. A roar ripped through the air and Shu felt bitterness grow in the wake of the truth that in their hasty hubris against mortal ants, they had completely forgotten about their second enemy.

The grass under his feet danced orange and red, he realized belatedly, swaying under the force of power exploding outward as it mirrored the licking destruction undoubtedly consuming wood and soul. Lifting his head stuffed full of buzzing curses and half-formed thoughts, he stared as the Akuma castle burned at the pyre, hungry flames ravenously consumed young wood and fresh blood to feed the earth with the ashes of destruction. Old scars prickled and seared against his skin as he forced his shaking and overstimulated limbs to move, if not for him then for the burning heart that sat heavy in his chest.

"Go! Save your people, I will hold them here." He commanded, the ground under them rumbling ominously as if to back up their master’s words. But Vox, dearest Vox whose heart was always much too big for his body to ever conceive to contain, pursed painted lips, conflict dancing across each muscle as the duties of both a Lord and a Husband pulled his aching heart in more directions that he could save. As if to quell the doubts that his foolish husband held, not even the ravaged abrasion of multiple curses brutally decimated and erased in a single blink didn't seem to cool the frigid intensity of his flames as they erupted under the vulnerable feet of unsuspecting soldiers, their haunting screams echoing across empty plains, a haunting caterwaul of ghostly shrieks as their own protection trapped them in a meandering end. He didn’t even turn to see if his foolish Heart had heeded his call before he snatched his shikigami out of the air, the fragile paper curse already disappearing into ashes as Shu blew the crumbling spell toward his enemies.

The first charred bodies hit the ground with an empty thud of molten metal and empty flesh, the next toppling with nary a squeak or a yell; eyes glazed over in pain. As their allies fell with only a gust of wind and roaring fires mirrored by the inferno at his back, Shu could almost taste the trepidation in the air. Delicious, though his stomach recoiled at the thought of even more magic being forced down his throat. But even as his magic frayed on a hairline wire of exploding into a supernova of misfortune and woe, he could more than take on a measly gaggle of mortals alone. Shu didn't need to look to know that his husband had already gone with the wind, only the furious roar of a creature so far removed from humanity to show for it.

And by the gods bound to his service did that sound downright sinful to his monstrous ears.

Making a mental note to absolutely ravage his delightfully alluring husband at a more appropriate time, Shu painted a quick talisman in the air, crackling ethereal fire that cast him in unnatural purples and violets lingering in the air before it sparked with curse energy. A similar array lit up under booted feet and Shu made an entire army dance to the symphony of their own death. The meticulous craftwork that belonged to his own perverted branch of protection magic bringing about gruesome massacres was almost an art form as Shu overlayed old wards with new curses. No mortal would be spared from the overwhelming rage of a Jujutsushi provoked into a senseless conflict.

It didn't matter if a samurai broke through the almost careless assault with the desperate hope of cutting a monster of unfathomable virtole down where he stood, the inferior metal and steel they so boastfully considered superior was nothing more than wheatgrass the moment their dull edge graced to touch burnt skin. For those cases, Shu was more than happy to take matters into his own hands, his intertwined soul singing in delight at the blood spilled today as it sunk deep into empty cavernous chests, pulling sinew and bone apart.

A manic cacophony of glee crawled out of his throat as he danced, curses sparking on bloodied claws as wards and arrays crafted specifically for this moment awakened from their slumber. Oh glorious destruction that abounded and hunted without remorse, take up arms for today bears its name in never waning violence.

With a grand sweep of his downturned hand much like he was holding a fan, wrist flicking to mimic the scattering of water droplets. From the rivers that snaked around his home, the clear waters ripping with each curse that filled the air, a heavy tail struck the water and out from the shallows a bloated mackerel much too large to even feasibly live in such an estuary made its presence known with a graceful arc of refracting water and dripping blood. Water flowed as the engorged curse hovered over its master's shoulder, ravenous teeth of a predator barely fitting within its thin lips as it leered at the meal it could feast itself on.

The tense silence only persisted for a few seconds devoid of anything but fear and anticipation before the curse lunged forward and snapped up the first few soldiers in its ravenous path. The crunch of metal and cut off screams only seemed to fuel its rampaging feast as hapless mortals were flung into the air and devoured in a few scant bites. Shu gleefully sat back to listen to the cacophonous symphony, feeling his magic begin to balance itself out from the sudden influx earlier. How glorious that with a few simple spells, an army could be decimated into a platoon, left only with those who lingered in a coward's confidence.

The feeling didn't linger for long, the tug in his gut growing almost nauseatingly persistent as he turned to stare at the still burning stronghold that his husband called home. The viscera that coated his hands almost seemed weightless as his chest emptied itself in a single breath, mind taking in the bloody hues that painted a compound that once perhaps could have been his home. The cutting winds cut across the crumbling grass, bringing with it the smell of smoke and charred flesh, draconic shadows covering wrought destruction under proud wings.

Almost flippantly he let the guardian of Akuma lands rampage as it pleased, Arrogant Tokugawa having long since removed himself from this particular battlefield, be it through retreat or by breaching their crumbling walls, he didn't allot the energy to care much. But as he glided through the pure white ash that carpeted once lovely streets as filled with bodies as it was in life, Shu felt his chest twist at the sight of the blackened corpses that lined the unholy procession. Though he never made an effort to recognize each inhabitant by name, as he knelt by a particularly smaller gnarled mass of charcoal and soot Shu supposed that even if he had, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone apart. Wandering through the streets that his feet had tread countless times almost following a predestined path set upon his soul, Shu found himself a stranger in lands that once welcomed him with open arms. Tongues that he held firmly in an all-powerful grasp lashed against his skin with heated waves of agony and resentment, a veritable feast for a too full stomach.

Turning a corner, Shu could faintly hear the slither of steel against steel drowned out against the screams and fire that seemed to permeate the very existence of their once prosperous clan. A child tripped in the flaking snow, a lump of coal blocking its path as its friend hurried over to help it back up. A few paces away, their golden haired guardian angel turned her faceless concern on the charges and the scene was baptized in holy fire, scorching and all consuming. The flames radiated heat that was enough to get Shu sweating a river as it licked at the ends of his hair and nibbled teasingly against the delicate ruined membrane of his wing. Violet met gold, colder than the warm sun that so often sprinkled his favour upon him, the lion and the witch meeting in wide silence as their frozen Narnia burned.

The dancing of flickering illusions that lived through the scorching radiance of the exalted dragonfire that rained down upon his beloved obessions's clan was almost mesmerizing, enrapturing his disassociated spirit with its alluring promise of a road not taken before as quickly as it was breathed out with little thought, it too dissipated into nothing but smoke and memories.

A scream, loud and piercing as the flames that bracketed them in their scaling embrace. It shook him as his soul answered in kind as he finally moved as he wanted, the winds of change carrying his feet over the charred soil that would surely one day be fertile ground once more to gently cradle in his arms a warm weight that dropped unceremoniously into it. The trail of ebony rivers that flowed and draped itself in luxurious waves over in mourning veiled the lady's face from the world, trimmed nails and calloused palms gripped Shu's rough clothes in a desperate hold that nearly tore the cheap fabric. He makes not a sound even as pinpricks of pain claw down his back and his shoulder grows cold and damp.

"I'll kill them." The murderous promise was threaded into the nails that bit into pale skin, whispered under the cover of darkness but no less resolute. "I'll flay their skin from their muscles, strip their flesh off bone before I gnaw on the agony they have so graciously given me. I will hunt their children as they have mine and I will take vicious pleasure as they wail under my hands. No matter how they beg, their necks will break all the same. And I will feast." The lioness bared her fangs at the sky, snarling and clawing at the monsters wheeling above them that dared snatch away her cubs from their mother's warm embrace.

Shu couldn't comprehend her grief, a foreign concept of family that perhaps was once familiar but now had faded to nothing but a faint echo of a fading feeling. But he knew of pain, of betrayal and loss as he held Lady Kaneshiro ever closer, allowing her to tear ribbons into his clothes with vengeful claws. "O Lady of this Village, give me the strength, curse me. Curse me to rip out enemies to shreds, to devour them until not even bone remains. Please, use me as another curse to set upon those murderers and reunite me with my children. Please." Lady Kaneshiro, in all her fierce pride and stoic stone heart whose knees never once touched the dirt nor her forehead lower any further than the sky, begged. Her weight brought them both tumbling down, a puff of flaking ash pillowing their descent in a cloud of everything that had been lost.

Swallowing down the unknown emotion that seemed intent on blocking his throat, Shu slid his hands up to pull Lady Kaneshiro's face away from his neck, gloved thumbs brushing away the ink that stuck to her blotchy face. Disgusting, he thought offhandedly, that mortals would show such unsightly displays and still have the gall to wreath their desperation under a veil of propriety. Cupping her broken visage, Shu leaned forward to breathe into her a promise that would bind death to her very name and into her hands, nausea slammed into his chest and crawled up his throat to spill out in a flood of fire and stardust from parted lips.

Staring in confusion at the mess that stained his robes, Shu retched as a second wave crashed over his mana and flooded his system until the hollow vessel built to house the pantheon of curses spilled and overflowed in a cascade of charoite fractals. The ground rumbled and quaked in harmony, the destruction of both of Shu's worlds coinciding with the advent of the end. The whispers of a curse that had long been his guardian bid a final farewell before the ashes consumed its corpse, no different from the pale death that surrounded them all. The empty pit in his stomach, untouched by the overflow of cursed magic that had slammed back into his broken body, dragged him down into hollow dissonance and he struggled to even lift his head beyond its guilty bow, choking any words before they could even form.

A gentle hand riddled with calluses and scars gently cupped his face, slender fingers more accustomed to holding weapons than another coaxing his eyes to trail upwards. He lingered slightly as he took in the soot that stained gold embroidered robes, barely concealing the burgeoning life nestled in maternal warmth. His gaze finally slid up along with his chin with steady fingers leading it to stare into Lady Kaneshiro's eyes, violet resolution and fury sparking over them. Behind such volatile emotions, Shu only saw a mother who carried grief as her second child, overwhelmed and consumed by the tragedy that played before her eyes and composed the theatre of her life.

It was so easy to curse

"No." He coughed, each word expelling molten shards of alexandrite vengeance, leaning into the steady touch with a gentleness that he wasn't aware that he was capable of. He bared curse smeared teeth at the wide eyed surprise that nearly consumed cold golden iris' and held fast to the hand bracketing his face.

He watched Lady Kaneshiro's face twist with emotions, flickering from disbelief, indignation, betrayal, and resignation, before finally settling on heavy simmering fury. "No? What, and think carefully about your next words, do you mean no?! I have worked tirelessly all these years trusting that you would respond in kind when the time comes but when the time comes knocking you won't even lift a pampered hand to open the door! I ask again that you aid me before I fall into a rage that needs no curse. I have nothing else to live for, grant a dying woman's dying wish O selfish Jujutsushi." The snarl that twisted Lady Kaneshiro from a picture perfect matriarch of noble descent into a raging animal who had lost her cubs in an unjust hunt was beautiful and mesmerizing, fangs slick with spittle and righteous disgust clashing against Shu's own exhausted tranquility.

"Hardly a dying wish when you still have someone depending on you." Shu laughed around another wheezing cough as hoarseness scratched against his throat, pressing his hand against the swell of her rounding stomach before she could raise a protest, the promise of a life unmarred by the sins of the present. The myriad of expressions that washed over her face flickered too fast for Shu to decipher but he held no care for any of that, swallowing against the curse that swelled against his vocal chords.

Before his hand could be slapped away, he slid it up to cup tear stained cheeks with soft cotton. "I don't care." She spat, leaning into the offered comfort with vitriol and grief, clear gold drawn close by his guiding hand until their heads gently tapped against each other, the final bastion of their legacies crumbling into the foundation of something stronger, better, beyond their time.

"But I do." Shu found it exceedingly entertaining to play the antagonistic force, knocking his head against Lady Kaneshiro's in a gentle admonish that left smarting skin. "You who saw your family decline into smudged lines of ink, who serve a clan that will become one with the Earth, all which you touch becoming nothing but ash in your mouth; giving everything only to receive nightmares. Are you not vexed as I am? Do you not wish for revenge?"

Blunt nails came up to dig into his shoulders, the keratin scratching against the delicate membrane and still healing claims yet Shu's face did not waver, meeting her steely gaze with his own conviction. "Of course." She snarled, biting each syllable that made it past her lips in vicious anger. "Of course, I want to burn those pathetic lizards to the ground, rip their wings off and feast on their blood. I will step as close to the sun as I can, burn myself into ash and bring as many of them down with me as I do."

The declaration was as pleasing as any could be, its destain and rancor dripping with everything Shu would have loved to gorge himself on. "Then live. Live a life so abundant that even Prospero in his infinite lives would pale with envy. Sow the seeds of jealousy and hate by being the one thing they can not destroy, outlive them all and laugh on their graves as one by one they fall like flies." Shu hissed in retaliation, the sounds scraping against his dry throat coated with curses just waiting to spill out from careless words. Amaranth petals fluttered behind each word, the air thick with magic as the unceasing bursts of flame continued to ravage scorched lands. Burning flesh was their perfume, pungent as it laid claim to their scent with unrelenting tenacity, echoing screams having long since fallen silent to the ominous beating of leathery wings overhead.

The stunned silence of a Lady who welded such absences of words with poised grace was in its own way satisfying, a trophy that Shu would take no matter how meaningless even in the face of death. Releasing his grip on her, Shu drew back to press his palm against Lady Kaneshiro's chest. The steady rhythm of her life pounded on behind flimsy bone and cartilage, sending blood cruising and soul screaming. A wondrous sound, a roaring lioness whose teeth would never blunt even in death. Her failure to object sealed her fate, the implicit agreement a binding contract.

"I curse you." Shu rasped, broken voice shaking as he poured all of his emotions into his words, flowing from his heart and out his mouth as the curse laden with overflowing power settled over Lady Kaneshiro's shoulders in a heavy immovable blanket of hurt, anger, and desperation. Behind them the flames crept closer, licking at the ground as Shu stared at the woman who had always done so much for their ruined village, her heart of steel supporting the rest of the Clan with stalwart loyalty. "I curse you, Lady Kaneshiro. That you will never die even if swords cut you down and the flames of hell burn you. You will wander aimlessly upon this grieving land never to find the merciful comfort of death until your duty to your child is fulfilled and he is brought into the world as the happiest son he can be. Until Shinigami-sama has deemed your life well lived, your maternal duties carried out to completion, and the ancestors themselves look upon your form with awe, I curse you to live.

"Now run. Run Kaneshiro, may you outpace the winds that chase you and never feel the pain in your legs. Don't look back and flee this ruined, wretched place at once!" With those words, the woman immediately leapt to her feet as if Death itself was on her heels and took off running, ripping her kimono as strong legs carried her trembling frame faster than any mortal could as the curse buried itself deep in her unwavering heart. The fires played off her face in a shroud of smoke and destruction and as Shu watched as she disappeared amongst the burning hills he wondered what expression she was making. If she resented him for sending her away. But he had at least saved a part of his Heart's greatest accomplishment and with that assurance he turned to the procession of bowing buildings that surrounded him on all sides, empty screams wailing for help as metal clashing against one another drowned them out along with sinister crackling, the fires consuming all in its path in vile plumes of black smoke. He couldn't see the distinctive flash of Inari magic and found comfort in the fact that Prospero had chosen to remove their presence from this mess, leaving the compound before disaster befell it with a jaunty wave and cocky smirk. As a servant of the kami of prosperity, there was the slight irony that they had slipped away just as the Akuma clan was besieged, spelling out their own fate as Inari-sama left their side in the moment of their greatest need.

Above his head as he finally turned his face to the heavens, spinning in lazy circles as if admiring the destruction she had wrought was the Queen of the Dragons herself. The firelight glittered off azure scales as if the crowning jewel of devastation, expansive wings keeping her afloat as her veil fluttered under the whipping winds that only stoked the devouring flames. Under her crosshairs, the Akuma clan was nothing but a pest to be removed from her treasured lands and she would be the executioner of those helpless lives. While Shu didn't find much emotional attachment towards the clan or its members, they were Vox's. And what was his husband's was his. These were his people, his annoyances, his burdens. And gods help whatever poor soul tried to take a monster's possessions, they would put to shame even the most jealous of lovers. If they were to be pests in the eyes of the divine, then Shu would do his damnedest to make sure that they were cockroaches.

She was Holy in her every being, a monster that transcended the filth and sin that clung to inhuman hearts, not even a scrap or resentment could be grasped from the pure silks that shielded her form from the taint of the material world. But love, oh love that invaded and made even the most stalwart of creatures bend under its fickle whims, lived within her heart. Love for humanity, for her subjects, for destruction. Even the old well of love that had long since dried up under her solar gaze was a foothold for Shu to wrap his wretched curses around and yank the lofty ruler from her transcendent heights; sending her elegance crashing back into reality among the other crawling creatures she had set ablaze.

With a roar of her wretched name, Shu gathered around him what shikigami still remained. The whistle of dozens of folded paper servants echoed in the empty space of crackling fire and distant screams as if a death toll for all those consumed by Death who wandered through crumbling streets. Across from him, the land shuddered as a massive draconic beast alighted down behind its ruler, the flickering firelight reflecting off pure scales, dancing and wavering just as Elira pulled herself out of the rubble.

"Yamino." She spat, elegant silks ripped and darkened by dirts and soot. "I had hoped the rumours would be false but I see now that you've abandoned everything that we once strived towards. Truly, a Jujutsushi leaves nothing but curses and destruction trailing after his poisoned touch." Steadying herself against her familiar's haunches, the creature eclipsing her with its size, Elira glared at the approaching Jujutsushi caught under her ire.

He laughed humorlessly at that, the notion sending waves of revulsion wracking through his heart. "Remind me again who was it who abandoned us first? Who never came to my side even after I had been chased out of our house? Who stood by and watched as the humanity you so adored hurled curses and rocks at the wicked source of suffering, choosing between the more alluring of your obsessive treasures." Airing out the grievances between them, old festering hate that had bundled into explosive destain, Shu let the malevolent gods entrapped within spelled parchment run amok as they jeered and cackled at their for, letting their leash run long with a firm grip. "This is my thanks to you for throwing me into the mud. Without that, perhaps I never would have shackled myself to a demon, given my heart to a foreign chest and received one in return."

A furious roar punctuated his declaration as red beaded over pearlescent scales. The satisfied titters of the curse made Shu smile wider, watching as thin rivers of red scattered themselves over the majestic beast's bejewelled skin. It was a cacophony of chortling cackling, corruption feasting on the spilled blood of a creature jealousy hunted. Unharmed through it all, Elira peeled her lips back into an animalistic snarl that looked beautiful upon the face of another monster, humanity flaking off her meticulous mask.

"What happened that day has weighed heavy on my mind but I do not regret any action that I took." Elira defended bluntly as her familiar let out a majestic howl, the flames that arced over the sun turning crowing gods into ashes. The winds rippled around her, wide brimmed sleeve beckoning the tides of misfortune as the sheer fabric haloed her divine presence. "Under these ashes, I'll bury our sins and wash your curse free. I didn't want to do this, Yamino, but you leave me no choice. For my people, for humanity, for what we once held towards one another in our foolish youth, you will never see the next sunrise!"

Her declaration was once again punctuated by a draconic rumble of agreement, the beast throwing its horned head back but this one sounds distinctively different and that split second observation proved true when the earth trembled under the sudden weight that it had to now shoulder. Rivets of red spill from the familiar's mouth, dying ivory fangs pink as the earth eagerly soaked up the nourishing liquid. As the once lofty queen gaped at the sight of her fallen familiar with an expression that Shu found he quite liked as even the ever concealing veil couldn't hide her clear eyes blown wide in disbelief, he stepped forward and summoned an empty shikigami between his fingers.

"Keep going." He taunted with a vicious grin leering over the befuddled queen. "What was it about you purifying me? Can't quite do that when poor Solaris is too injured to fight, no? How about you do it yourself, with your own hands. Don't falter now, Queen of Dragons, you're so close to your goals it's just within your grasp. Simply reach out and wrap your hands around my throat and it will all be over." Cursed eyes raked appraisingly over the pathetic ragged heaving of a once proud creature, watching as the freed gods jeered over its fallen form, tethered through the magic that ran amok among the dragon's veins. Once Shu had cradled the hatchling in his arms, its magnificent snout small enough to nip harmlessly at his fingers, but now even though it towered over even his husband’s satiated strength, he found himself unable to find anything other than distant interest in the beast that once gazed at him with with innocent adoration.

That apathy all too quickly hardened into ice as he watched the more bloodthirsty of the spirits dig their spectral claws into brilliantly scaled armour, ineffective claws ripping through nothingness as they swiped away. Honestly, the moment Shu left these troublemakers free of their leash, they returned to their old destruction as if they hadn't been mercifully saved from such cruel fates. When it came to old malevolent gods, Shu mused as he severed the curses at the root, they would only ever be a slave to their nature.

Before the newly freed curses could even think of enjoying their freedom, Shu's beckon bound them once again to flimsy folded bodies, their tormented screams to the unfair world going unheard by all. Solaris' breathing evened out and the familiar passed into a slumber that reknit torn muscles and flushed out the lingering curses that kept the beast under, hazy eyes reflecting its master's rage.

“How could you?!” She roared, the creak of shifting bones loud even above the roar of licking wildfires. Eyes that reflected the vast freedom of the cloudless skies glimmered and dazzled under the firelight, flecks of fool's diamonds rolling down veiled cheeks. "Enough of this, you will hurt my people no longer! If you wish for it to come to this, then it will be with my own hands that I smite you."

The silks that enshrouded her arms rippled as the encased limb contorted and grew in accordance with the draconic nature that ran in Elira's soul. Skin as blue as the ice enclosing her heart peeked out from under the ripped holy cloth as she shot forward without so much as a warning, sublime wings powering her rapid approach.

Though prepared for such fierce attacks, heels digging firmly into the ashen dirt, Shu still faltered under the power of a Queen, arms aching as he redirected the attack into a glancing blow. And thus began their waltz of malice, a dragon's unrelenting assault hitting nothing but charred cloth and smokey air as lean arms trembled under the strain. Sparks of a dragon's flames licked up her scaled claws, whipped into a frenzy by the winds that flew at her back, Elira's dominion aiding their queen in battle. In retaliation, azure tongues entangled themselves with the competing flames smothering one another in a battle for dominance.

With each lunging swipe brushed off and blocked blow, Shu could feel his body erode under the royal demand of the highest power, mana sputtering as he simply was no match for a being that far surpassed his own. That was the rule of their world after all, the strong prevailed and to those foolish enough to bite the hands that nestled them under all encompassing wings, then an equal retribution for their betrayal was to be expected. But he never expected his legs to be the first to fail, knee buckling as pain exploded along the pale bend still littered with faint marks of possession.

In that split moment of shock, Shu felt the membrane of his wing give way as his ribs splintered and collapsed under the Queen's firm fist ripping into his torso as cartilage couldn’t hope to resist against greedy hands. Lithe fingers wrapped around something in him but Shu's mouth would always move faster than thieving hands trapped in his own domain.

In an array of flames and smoke dyed with his blood and demise, Shu leapt away to put distance between himself and his heartache, catching his breath with heaving gulps and ignoring how each blink dislodged tears of sweat from his eyelashes, copper flooding each precious intake of air. As he glanced down to assess the damage, a curse on his lips, he shuddered to see the ribbons of flesh that clung on barely forming something recognizable as his legs. Abrasions he recognized from a past of washing Solaris' flank lay scattered along the bloodied skin and Shu bit back a growl at the physical representations of his cocky carelessness, the unavoidable gaping hole in his chest almost mocking him in its dizzying viscera. Even if victory was a foregone conclusion, to simply hand over his defeat on a rusted platter was an act that his ruthless pride could never accept.

"Ready to submit your wretched self to me now, Yamino?" Elira's voice rang clear as the crackling flames dimmed and she stepped forward with all consuming majesty. Haloed by the destruction wrought before her hand which held a sluggishly beating organ, she glowed with power beyond comprehension. Those who did manage to catch a glimpse of it became nothing but ash at her feet, another memory plucked away by the River of Time.

He knew the image he cut in strict dichotomy, illuminated by the harsh fence of flames reaching for the heavens as crimson tides ran sluggishly down his tattered robes, manic grin fixed in place despite it all. A wretched devil and an enlightened god. "Make me, Pendora." He spat, baring his bloody teeth with hackles raised.

Even under the ashes of his home, Shu could see the last traces of warmth bleed out from cold eyes, leaving nothing but objective rationale in its wake. "I see." She intoned, the high collar wrapped around untouched skin splitting in twine to make room for the holy light that glowed radiant judgement. "I had held out foolish hope that you would have answered differently but it seems you are intent on mocking my mercy. You know what we do to curses who have grown to your calibre, Yamino. Be swallowed up in your own foolishness O wretched nameless cur and perhaps if you are as strong as you boast, then survive and reclaim what you once were."

The pulsating organ bulged against Elira's iron grip, fighting desperately to escape as Shu crumpled, strings that had kept him afloat shattering into silvers of alexandrite, glimmering faintly as the violet red hues of his life's sunset refracted pools of blood. Ashen dirt pillowed his burned cheeks as strength flocked towards the victor, infection festering in open wounds oozing puss and Shu could feel his chest tighten with a splatter of stolen flesh, hollowness settling in familiar comfort in his gaping chest.

It didn't escape his dulling senses that he was simply a trapped beast at the mercy of a higher being, and Shu knew that this was his end. This curse would fizzle out with great shame, unable to complete its master's wishes and under an indifferent gaze and polarized staurolite. But the Curse known as Yamino Shu could not simply be exorcised with nothing but empty affection where once held something deadlier. No, he would bite back twice hard and never let go until the last tooth was ripped from his mouth.

"I curse you! The head of the Jujutsushi clans curses you, Elira Pendora! That you will never soar on wings of your own, that the beauty bestowed upon you by the glorious sun will wither into a mere tendril! You will forever more crawl on your belly and gnash your teeth for the skies so close that will never be in your grasp. Let the Queen of the Dragon's be stripped of her pride and her arrogance just as you have ripped away my gifted heart, our pain tied together in our promised union. Let my husband's grief be yours, separated from his life blood right before his eyes and unable to ever turn back time. Curse my name upon the tongue that once whispered it with reverent love, bemoan that with your own hand, you brought this curse upon yourself! And know that in Mara, I will be laughing." Shu howled breathlessly, unable to stop the manic cackling that spilled out of his chest in pooling red. Even through death blurred eyes, he could see the miasma gather around the delicate crown sitting low on the Queen's devine back and he could only grin viciously and brace for the inevitable pain.

Hellfire rained from the setting sun as Elira was decrowned with a shrill shriek, flesh and membrane burning in unison as the curse consumed all in its merciless path until its gluttonous appetite had been fulfilled and nothing but skeletal remains replaced once resplendent wings. Shu could only viciously grin at the show even as he felt his core melt under exalted flames that purified the sin that constructed his existence, skin, flesh, and bone fusing together under the heat until they all became an unidentifiable mess of viscera and decay.

Distantly, Shu relished in the bitter ash irony that both times he had been stolen away from his family had been at the hands of the voracious element his curses so adored to take form in. To die and be reborn in fire, baptized in the cursed tongue of light again and again. Though this time, Shu found solace with his loneliness, only the wails of a fallen queen and soft chuffs of her familiar keeping him company rather than harried screams of his name. It was better this way.

Before the last of his awareness burned away, perhaps he could delude himself into hearing his name sung upon copper ash winds, a siren song forcing himself to watch the flicker of something that shone brighter than the flames of judgement upon his sinner's soul. It wavered and pulsated, alive and demanding his attention as if calamity would befall if its calls went unheeded.

But really, Shu was already dead. What could ever possibly be worse than the loss of his own life?

He let his tired lids flutter close one final time, empty eyes never seeing the field of blooming spider lilies left in his raging heart's wake.

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