dolgelo

[dolgelo]

It seems like Mitsuru’s overcome her pain. I don’t know what happened, but as long as she’s feeling better, I’m relieved.

#(( akihiko ;; ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒʸ ˡᶤᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏᶰᵉˢˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵗʰᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢ )) #(( self ;; ᵗᵃˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗᶤᶠᵘˡ ᶜʳᵃᶰᵉ )) #[ i MM ]

[dolgelo]

Clio is cool

[ ohh clio-is-cool canon welcoming back like a old friend! thank you, i made a quick research and found your first same message on September 20th 2017. SIX years ago?! on this new blog, and still i am cool? aw thank you again, this brings me back... ]

#(( ooc ;; ᵃ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ )) #[ will i ever know who you are ahah ]

[dolgelo]

[ perhaps i need to revamp my icon with the new renders, i want my daughter to be the freshest and the best here, i miss her and writing -- no one holds me back and i'm back here for the akimitsu and the headcanons while i wait for february aaa ]

#(( ooc ;; ᵃ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ )) #[ i come back and the site has changed again smh time to relearn ] #[ and to unleash the muse i guess. new icon soon and if i find good memes why not ]

[dolgelo]

mitsuru

#[ sH'ES MY DAUGHTER ] #(( self ;; ᵗᵃˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗᶤᶠᵘˡ ᶜʳᵃᶰᵉ )) #(( art ;; ᵖʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᶰˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᶤʳᵉ ))

[dolgelo]

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, from “Carmilla”

#(( thoughts ;; ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ ˢᵖᶤʳᶤᵗ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ))

[dolgelo]

[ persona 3 nation rise up !!! ]

#(( ooc ;; ᵃ ᵛᵒᶤᶜᵉ ᵉᶜʰᵒᵉˢ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶰᵒʷ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐ )) #[ time to burn our dread and to do cpr on this blog ] #[ HOW ARE WE DOING ON THIS FINE FRIDAY ??? ] #[ THE MUSE HAS AWOKEN ] #[ how pretty was yukari minato the ui aaaaaa ]

[dolgelo]

#[ chef kiss ] #(( akihiko ;; ᵃᶰᵈ ᵃ ᵇᵒʸ ˡᶤᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏᶰᵉˢˢ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ᵗʰᵘᶰᵈᵉʳˢ )) #(( self ;; ᵗᵃˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗᶤᶠᵘˡ ᶜʳᵃᶰᵉ )) #┈ ┊ two crowns for a single throne ┊ akihiko and mitsuru

[dolgelo]

what message does your guardian angel have for you?

Your obsession with love is not, in and of itself, love.

" You have a good heart for a human, but you are too focused on the concept of goodness. You love love, you wish to love hard, and absolutely, you want people to feel loved by you more than you want to be loved. What if I told you that allowing the ones you love to love you back was love? What if I told you that accepting kindness and love without question was a service to them and to yourself? 

You spend so much of your living thinking about love that the concept is vague. The concept isn't vague. To love is to be kind, to be kind is to make kind choices and do kind things. If you want to be a lover you have to understand that it is not a personality trait or a state of being but rather a series of choices and active decisions. Being loved is scary, loving in the wrong way or with the wrong intensity can be embarrassing, but you are not defined by the reactions to the love, how you love says more about you than who accepts it. 

Just remember that I love you. I see who you really are, beyond the identity you have curated, and I see all of your flaws and dirty rotten bits and I know you are worthy. I love you. I look after you. I am yours to serve as you serve me. "  

tagged by  @gamenu​ !! tagging YOU!

#(( games ;; ᶠᵒʳ ᵛᵃᶰᶤᵗʸ ʷᵃˢ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ʳᵒʸᵃˡᵗʸ )) #[ ;___; ]

[dolgelo]

sabazio‌:

Competition for the prize, not him. 

…Or, was Mitsuru, mayhaps, coyly insinuating he was the prize to be won here– he would have sneered at that jab were he so inclined. Unfortunately, his (now-defunct) fan-club wasn’t accepting any new members— especially not ones so young.

Despite her intentions, Akihiko’s confusion is ever-clear, though he hands off his keepsake without a second thought. It’s that familiar look in a little girl’s eyes that takes him elsewhere; a look of utter captivation upon being gifted not one, but two humble presents, no doubt available at any local discount store. With that toothless smile, and clumsy-turn of heel, she had already begun her mad dash away before he can admonish her for almost tripping in ill-fitting clogs. Little Chiyo disappears though his gaze lingers long after the crowd had swallowed her whole.

Mitsuru’s voice is a gentle reminder of their own itinerary, rather than thoughts of if that girl lived nearby, if she had enough money for the train fare, or if she even had a home to go back to after the evening’s planned fireworks showing. Mitsuru was genteel, unwavering; he begins to burn when their eyes meet in wondering just how long she’d suffered in studying a wistful profile. 

“ Oh, right, ” he clears his throat, carding gloved fingers through his cropped hair almost too-casually. The only other booth to catch his interest was one that boasted a blazing blue and red front. Another old haunt from when a year’s savings could barely buy a Feather Hawk mask, let alone a single try at goldfish-catching. Back when his only dream was if he could get away with keeping a fish in a bucket or inside the basement sink. 

Akihiko had to redeem himself, first-and-foremost– especially now they were left empty-handed.

“ How about goldfish? ” he suggests, taking up her delicate wrist in bid for her to follow with his sudden burst of boyish energy. Best to not get separated now, not when their time together was nearing its end. “ We weren’t allowed pets when I was a kid, so Shinji and I always let ‘em go… Back then it was just fun to see how many we could get. ” He smiles inwardly, continuing to pull her along without a second thought.

Had it been the same handler from three years ago, then maybe the old man would have cowered in fear of the familiar face ready to feast on his kiddie pool full of tiny koi, but his greeting to the pair was the same as any other couple to stop by. 

This time, their potential winnings took precedence over handing over his wallet, and enthusiasm had him release her hand to drop to his knees, all in order to better take in this year’s fare. The bundles of paper-bound, poi nets and their cups rested within a strut beside the modest pool, flanked by an undulating mass of schooling black, gold and red fan-tailed fish; as graceful as they were fragile.

Between Shinjiro and himself, the rules had always been simple: catch one in a single scoop. That’s all one needed to do in order to win. 

“ Two for you and your girl? ” the old man asks, and while Akihiko may have glossed over that last part, he nods once he begins the dig for his wallet once more.

“ You wanna go first, or you want me to show you how it’s done? ” Akihiko talks a big game for someone at her feet. “ Last time was just a fluke. I’ve done this loads of times. ” 

Yes, last time, when he nearly drowned as many fish as he tried to catch. Confidence truly was key.

With the prayer the little girl would have soon reunited with her parents, siblings or guardian, the thought of her lost prize was abandoned, the new challenge just in sight ready to occupy her mind anew. A nice feeling indeed, she had to admit it to herself: to have other things but the Group or Shadows clouding her mind wasn’t so bad. Not heavy burdens or appointments to write down on the nearest notebook at hand; but instead, these new thoughts, wishes and summertime sensations were light as feathers. They brought her back, surely, to bittersweet, more crowded festival nights.

Somehow, she had already imagined the goldfish scooping game to be Akihiko’s next destination - but she didn’t mind that innocent, silent prediction of hers becoming reality. Again, it brought her back... and for a moment, as the two of them headed cheerfully towards their goal, she could almost swear of sensing something eerily familiar. A lost sensation, akin to what her old friend, Penthesilea, would have felt whenever a member of the Squad would have been found, roaming the labyrinth of the Tower of Demise. She wasn’t sure if by turning her head ever so slightly to the left, the little kid jumping around at her side, with cotton candy in hand, would have turned out to be actually Amada -- shorter, younger than what she remembered from the last time she had seen him. She doubted the man crossing her path with low eyes would have actually been Shinjiro, too... but for a moment, the old sensation hit her senses, spreading as a gentle warmth in her chest when she focused on Akihiko’s big smile. One feeling that felt alright to believe in... 

She hushed those sensations, shushing Artemisia too for good measure, the moment she found herself in front of the beautiful sight of pretty, colorful koi swimming around in their tank.  

« The Iwatodai dormitory didn’t allow animals too, remember ? »  she teased him, smiling at the soft recollection;  « Then, one day, I found a kitten in the kitchen. Neither you or Aragaki ever settled on who actually wanted the critter to enter first. Well, we found her a home... but soon after, Amada followed in your footsteps. And I’m not talking about Koromaru. »

The shiver came in involuntarily. The squirrel. Then, the hamster. Did the child really think the one responsible for the dorm never knew of his pets ?

« You let them go... ? How noble of you. »

But the horror of the past mixed with stupor at the kind gesture of two little boys was soon replaced by incredible waves of sheer embarrassment. The man’s words truly became the right way to snap out of memory lane, to concentrate on the task at hand, just after a little shake of her head. Justifying herself and their bond further might have been useless to strangers, and Mitsuru just chose the coy silence of any bashful girl -- again, not her style. The game was not her forte, as she might have just tried it once or twice her whole life, now that she thought about it.  

« I’ll leave it to you first. Weren’t you the champion of this game anyway ? »  she replied, a hand rising to the cheeks in a poor attempt to cover them, briefly, enough for the wave of red to be blown away by the pleasant night breeze. Also, she quickly took a precautionary step back, eyeing the little net with a veil of worry  (could the fish really fit without breaking it?).  « No water on me this time, please. Show me how I should catch one. » 

#(( ic ;; ʷᶤᵗᶰᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᶤᵒᶰ )) #sabazio #[ 05. тнєу тнιηк ɗαякηєѕѕ ιѕ тнє ɩιgнт ] #[ mitsuru is like: time to copy the method ] #[ unless he fails. then we're in trouble HHHHh ] #[ everything to regain their dignity and prizes ] #[ but this time... smol fishi ] #[ IM SO REAdy let's gooooooooo ]

[dolgelo]

@dolgelo​ said: ( SING )…… or ( BECKON ) 🤔

seduction | accepting (?)

He had never known her to be the vocal type. 

Not ever in their previous years together, certainly not when three became two, or when two became three plus one. Mitsuru spoke when prudent, avoided idle chatter unless deemed necessary, looking to consume her desserts and literary pursuits in relative silence.

The television set was off for once; their juniors had all fled for town on a sunny Sunday afternoon. His side ached something terrible as she nipped her tea– three of his fixed ribs were still floating after April’s moon. She doesn’t scold him for napping in the lounge for once (considering he has little else to do), but the need for ibuprofen is enough to keep him lucid. A page flips and her song begins– a simple, genteel hum that wouldn’t wake him even if he had been sleeping.

The cadence is such that it might have words had she given them, and he thinks he might have heard it once, filtering from under the door of the third floor upon a chance encounter. Something timeless– if not a bit mournful. Had he known a single thing about classic French or coloratura sopranos he may just be able to fit a tune to name. Whatever it may be was perfectly on-key; sweet, and soft, as if soothing a fretful child.

It was nice to see her mask lowered for once, and that’s all he knew. Mitsuru; head propped, singing a sweet song, eyes downcast as she flipped pages one-by-one. Her brows knitting on certain paragraphs, thick lashes fluttering in a way he felt oddly enticing.

The tune stops all-too-soon, however. In his effort to turn his head to study his overseer, she had caught his spying– both turning a spectacular madder red more brilliant than her curls. 

Akihiko snaps back immediately with a grunt and a pained wince, staring instead to the ceiling above.

He clears his throat once to assuage himself. They may just avoid looking at each other for the rest of that day. 

“ It’s okay… uh, keep going… ”

#sabazio #(( save ;; ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵉᵐᵉᶰᵗᵒ ʷᵉ ʷᶤˡˡ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ˡᵒˢᵉ )) #[ AAAAAAAAAAA ] #[ I forgot about this........ what a nice surprise ;___; ] #[ edith fan... i can't help but love ] #[ let the song heal the ribs ]

[dolgelo]

sabazio‌:

Mitsuru would forever be a tough act to follow. 

Managing to hit every last target with a gun made of corks and plastic without a shred of practice. Her talents lay with the sword, not the gun, and yet her eye was quick, and her wit was quicker. Manicured fingers pulled the flimsy trigger with a veteran’s grace and Akihiko could only feast on the sight in awe. She was a tour de force in all she did– nothing short of what one could only define as a prodigy. That unbridled joy as she won her precious prize was contagious, however, and he was snorting in laughter before he knew it. The prim-and-proper empress allowing excitement to get the better of her was positively side-splitting. 

The second cork was serendipitously caught in an impressive mid-air slap by their handler as it bounced off his mid-section. The amused twinkle in his old eyes assuaged her of worries, even if she continued to voice them. The spent munitions were nonetheless retrieved, and set onto the counter to be loaded.

Akihiko’s own giggling at her expense was cut short by her handing off the weapon in question. Sharp with pride, she raised the bar without even trying. He took it up, but not without an amused rise of his brow. 

Studying the design briefly in his hands revealed that it loaded in an odd sort of way that a normal, western-style rifle’s anatomy would never permit. As per instructed, a cork is loaded in through the barrel as he figured the best way to aim left-handed. Targets were set, the rifle cocked, and he set out to put his partner to shame. 

One, two, three shots wasted as they fell short, bouncing off sides, and ricocheting off the back of the stand uselessly. Three more fire with an annoyed sigh, barely hitting their marks yet downing two– surely this had to be fixed. Festival games never boasted to be for skill– but of luck, right? It wasn’t just him, right? 

Akihiko lowered the gun, brief, only to take back his stance with renewed vigor. Six shots spent with four more to go; prizes no longer mattered as he narrowed eyes at a particular target. Seven and eight both hit their marks square, managing to down it with the combined momentum of the wobble. Nine and ten held no more luck than his first. The last target must have been made of solid steel– it barely moved. 

His score remained three out of ten when he lowered the rifle once more, this time in utter defeat. Akihiko was certainly no crackshot. 

Its their handler’s turn to snicker now, in wheezy mirth, handing off a prize that seemed more consolation than reward. It was a flimsy fan made only of wood and paper that did very little to ease his wounded pride. A curious unfurl revealed a double-sided kimono print– the kind that would be as useful for as long as the glue held out– and welcome, perhaps, in this cloying weather, but of little use to him.

“ Damn thing’s rigged, anyway, ” Akihiko’s barely audible mumble was certainly not a pout, nor was the sigh that followed. 

“ You want it…? ” he offers his meager share once before feeling two, large, and very brown eyes staring up from down below. A young girl, barely to their knees, had been watching the exchange with bated interest, but a mere glance of his own, as soft as it may be, was enough to send her bashfully diving behind Mitsuru’s legs. Their spy hid, red-faced behind a cloud of her own half-eaten cotton candy. “ Oh…? ”

The strange effect he had on the fairer sex continued to be worrying. Just a simple peek around sends the young girl farther into Mitsuru’s sleeve hem. An odd power, indeed; as concerning as it was worthless. She wanted the prize, that was for certain, but not by his hand.

He looks once to Mitsuru, who stood before him, and then to the unwanted fan that lay in the balance, and back again. 

“ Looks like you’ve got some competition. ”

She watched with intent his performance, as proudly and expecting as she’d been back in her school days, in the fencing club she did manage, when she’d teach younger students the basics of the discipline. That though was far less serious than handling swords, but to her, it still remained equally as entertaining. For a moment, she hoped to see him do better than her, but the chance to see such prodigy in action is lost around his last three or four shots.

It wasn’t like her to giggle under her breath, but the occasion did somehow call for it. And the instant she saw the man handing him a cheap paper fan, a wave of soft chuckles - lost in the clamour of the crowds surrounding them - forced the heiress to turn around for a second, a hand to her constricted side as it started to hurt for the laughter she tried to repress. It was adorable; the situation, his innocent yet childlike frustration too... but no, she’d have never admitted it.

« Maybe, you’ll be luckier with some other game-- »  she let out, eyes narrowed and a small smile on her lips. Or perhaps he just needed glasses. She imagined him wearing some for a moment. Those accessories would have made him look older, she presumed - which wasn’t in itself a bad thing ! -- and Mitsuru knew the right pair would have even looked pretty good on him. As if to confirm her assumption, she examined the bridge of his nose longer than necessary, blinking rapidly as mind did process different mental images, possibilities and shapes of glasses on his visage. The funny assumption, though, was never voiced, and died right away as she realized they were being carefully watched.

Perhaps, the right word would have been ‘studied’. Yes, there was a child studying them, with such intent and concentration mixed with wonder, that even Mitsuru remained stupefied by her. But having been quite the extrovert type in her childhood herself, she didn’t find such behavior unusual -- till the little girl noticed Akihiko gazing at her and found the best solution to that inconvenience being hiding behind Mitsuru, little hands on the yukata fabric to assure herself complete protection.

She could see her better now, given the child was literally using her sleeves to cover her eyes - a shield from Akihiko’s line of sight. Her dress was similar to her, while more colorful, more fitting for a young kid. And her black hair was tied in a little bun, crowning over her head. Once or twice, Mitsuru thought she’d have fallen on the ground due to the momentum of the child’s grip on her dress, moving now right and now left according to which side Akihiko chose to give a peek.

« Competition... »  she repeated, with a smirk. Why did that take her back to her school days ?  To a one-sided sense of competition she had never truly understood, maybe ?  « At least she’s more polite than your old fans. »  she concluded with a whisper, a hand reaching for the girl’s to soothe her, as she then turned around. She leant forward to appear less tall, and asked for her name.  « Chiyo, I hereby gift you my prizes. Treasure them, alright ? »  she made it sound excessively pompous and important for no reason at all, while accompanying the expression with a big smile. After all, the child had been brave enough to approach them, to begin with. First, she gave her the Jack Frost keychain she had won herself, then Mitsuru gestured for Akihiko to pass her the fan. When he obliged and the kid realized she now had two prizes, Mitsuru could read the joy in her big dark eyes.

Perhaps, she’d have loved to only have Akihiko’s fan, as a memento. But Mitsuru had imagined children being quite acquainted with the little mascot too to ignore its brand of keychains too. Chiyo’s shyness dissipated for a moment, as she bowed her head to both of them with a big smile -- she was missing a tooth or two, thanking both of them. When she ran off, though, she kept staring at Akihiko.

« I’d say it was a success-- where to next ? »

#[ npc frenzy is fun to make threads more lively I LOVE ] #[ im not proud at how much i wrote omg ] #long post #sabazio #(( ic ;; ʷᶤᵗᶰᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᶤᵒᶰ )) #[ 05. тнєу тнιηк ɗαякηєѕѕ ιѕ тнє ɩιgнт ] #[ i love this thread and i love them giving me feels ;__; ] #[ the kid couldn't have won the prizes. maybe she was too smol for the shooting stand aaaaa ] #[ im blessed....................... ]

[dolgelo]

Florence and the machine // Wish you were here

#(( aes ;; ᵗʰᵉ ʷᶤᶰᵗᵉʳ ʳᵒˢᵉ ᶤˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒᶰᵍᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶤˢᵗᵉʳˢ ))

[dolgelo]

@sabazio​ :  concept: akihiko bringing her take-out or a cup of tea during a long day at the office and also....... it's her birthday.  ┇♕┇

She would have never told or admitted to herself that, one day, she’d see Akihiko entering her workspace with a cup of flowering tea in his hand, ready to be delivered. That he knew the concept alone was truly magnific in itself -- he had been accustomed to her taste for tea, and could very well by no recognize the strongest scents and name the leaves that were used. But something like that, truly, was a surprise -- it was a delicate kind of preparation. Overall, it was a pleasant situation, that was promptly met with redder cheeks and budding red rose lips turning upward.

After all, she had been sitting there for so long, staring at her own image in the monitor with dubious eyes growing wearier and wearier by the minute. The office was empty, but her head felt dizzy for the hour, yet heavy, prepared as usual for the virtual meeting -- that was the rule. And as the influence of Kirijo had reached places distant to both mind and Japan even, the Group had to show itself in its best behaviour and most composed light. No Shadows involved this time, just notions learnt in college and notes in English lying by her computer, by her side, so that questions could not be forgotten. Waiting for the conference to start had deteriorated the woman, in a way -- and for once, she couldn’t wait to get out of the tight and formal attire and enjoy the rest of her birthday with much preferred quiet and tranquillity, in his company.

She had not considered his gentle thought, never imagining past words of apprehension for some overworking hours would have turned in such delightful golden shade of the drink, or in the flower petals drowning in it still gently moving, slowly, as if half-asleep, and delicate. They looked slightly pink, and by the smell  - way more refined than his, with the many types of tea she knew and loved, she guessed it to be a species of hibiscus. Incredibly small, yet incredibly elegant.

« Blooming tea ?  What, am I being spoiled now ? »  she said, her tone sweet but her grin growing wider as she turned around the little transparent cup in her hands. A little work of art, prepared with masterfulness; he was getting better at that, and that was a first !  She would have remembered, and made sure he could enjoy his creation as well.  « Thank you, Akihiko. You’ve made this wait way more bearable. Stay till ces ennuyeux men start talking, please. »

#[ you really thought i wouldn't have divulged in this??? aaa ] #[ its still her bday if i say so ] #sabazio #(( ic ;; ʷᶤᵗᶰᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᶤᵒᶰ )) #[ : )) ] #[ but still!!! thank you for the bday ask this is... all i got and all i needed <3 ] #[ the day has been saved ]

[dolgelo]

sabazio‌:  

Coming of Age Day. That furisode may have matched Mitsuru’s resplendence, but the yukata was a humble beauty, no matter the price placed on the cotton. It was a hearken back to the good old days they never lived; an anemoia for timeless national tradition. But really, he just enjoyed seeing the girl beneath the mask. Catching her once, miraculously, in lazy lounge-wear shook his core far more than her ever stepping from a limo in decadent layers of Japanese silk.

Akihiko’s interest, however, hinged not on traditional dress, but upon the word she couldn’t bring herself to say. The mortuary of his mind filled in the word funeral, but it might be more apt to guess wedding; the only other inevitability there was for a Kirijo. 

He slows his chewing on a particularly tough piece of tentacle, and lets that sudden truth curdle along with the mild alcohol in his belly. Never had he thought about it until this moment– or given that much thought to the inner-workings of her personal life for that matter. Never-mind it. Akihiko greedily shoves another takoyaki into his mouth in order to drown out this new and decidedly odd feeling rising in his chest. The molten center replaces anxiety with immediate regret.

“ Right, well… I’m glad you did, then, ” he coughs inoffensively into the crook of his arm, tongue burned. “ No one can predict the future, right? We’ll enjoy it while we can. ” The beverage is offered to her if she wished to partake in the same hoppy hell a light beer could offer, otherwise, he relieves her of the empty burden their shared meal left behind. 

What else to do at a festival that had everything, with a girl who tried nothing? The crowd had dissipated, if only slight, that he catches the eye of the kind old man who manned the shooting gallery across the way. A bitter truth made yakitori suddenly seemed less appetizing– taiyaki even less so– some friendly competition might settle his stomach. 

Akihiko points a polite finger in the direction he intends, making toward the deluge once more. This time, letting her fend for herself in wooden platforms. “ It’s kinda embarrassing, but I always wanted to try this as a kid. It only shoots corks but it looked so cool at the time, ” he laughs, rather self-deprecatingly at that, while also continuing to ignore threats of her own coin purse as he placed his own on the stand. His early childhood was bereft of money, and the rest was bereft of childhood. Miki’s passing ensured he cared for neither. 

“ Do you wanna try first? ” he asks, his grin lights up once more, eyeing the line of prizes above their heads. Stuffed dolls, paper fans, marbles and other cheap fares awaited them depending on their skill. “ …Which prize are you gonna go for? ”

A piece, or two or three - she soon lost count of the swallowed-down snacks with incredible ease, one that surprises her too. She imagined it to the be ambient’s fault; the lights, the company and the surroundings, so alien to her, might have influenced more her behaviour and thoughts more than she’d ever imagined -- but that was the beauty of such festivals too. While ephemeral, they could bring joy, freedom of mind and soul to weary people - ones like her too, despite gossipers who’d have said anything in the world about an heiress in a friend’s company, at a local summer festival. Being there felt refreshing, too... while the mouth had started to burn with the lingering, still mysterious consistency and taste of the octopus, Mitsuru hesitated a bit before taking a sip of her drink. Yet again, a weird taste.

Suppressing a few coughs after hearing his own, she thanked the portion for having run out quickly when shared with Akihiko. She doubted, despite the initial inhibition, that she would have been able to withstand another bite. And luckily for her too, he had looked quite hungry, that evening.  « Let’s. And let’s make the most out of it »  she smiled. A time to remember. She would have made sure it’d be the case.

With her father taking her with him across Japan for business trips in the summer months, Mitsuru had grown quite familiar with the concept of traditional festivals. He’d have taken her, hand in hand and smile on his lips - the one she had missed so, so much - around the stands, buying her everything she had set her eyes on and initiating her to local traditions, to satiate maybe a childlike wonder. She hoped a night like that would stay impressed in both their minds, for those same reasons as well as for others. Ones to still discover.

Invited towards the shooting stand, she couldn’t help but hum in amazement at his story. It sounded almost comical, but she supposed it was only natural for her to imagine Akihiko being more than familiar with objects dangerously shaped like guns -- she had never forgotten how they even talked for the first time, after all. She hissed him to stop as he places some coins in the old attendant’s hand, but gladly grabbed the very light gun. 

Politely, she asked the man which prize was the most valuable and hard to get, but the answer confused her even more: no need to choose for the best one, she wanted something she liked now - it’d have brought her luck. Plushies... she didn’t think one would have suited her tastes and she wanted hers and Akihiko’s hands to be free -- she had seen enough couples holding plushies of various type around already; so instead, she pointed to a keychain - with a little blue and white stuffed mascot attacked to its chain.

« Last time, I won a bead. I won’t repeat the same mistakes-- that one, please. »  of course Aigis had won something better, the humiliating was still hard to forget. Seven targets and maybe the frosty man would have adorned some of her many keys soon. She had to be focused, and quick: a trick or two learnt at home. She pulled the trigger once, it missed. But then, the targets necessary for the prize were hit in a fast sequence, hand moving of mere millimetres, steady as if she was handling an Evoker. At the eighth bullet of the barrel flying to hit the last needed bullseye, Mitsuru stopped, with a big smile on her face as she turned to eye Akihiko, and made a little jump as a natural yelp of success and satisfaction escaped her.

The excitement was so much to handle that her index finger involuntarily pressed the trigger once again and twice for the momentum of her little jump, letting the last two bullets in the toy gun fly straight against booth attendant’s chest. Not that big of a problem, those were mere yellow useless plastic, but she made sure to excuse herself as soon as she noticed what she had done. While the man both seemed impressed and amazed, Mitsuru made sure to continue apologizing even after he handed her the Jack Frost keychain. 

« Your turn now. »  she announced, voice as light and acute as a chirp, as she left Akihiko enough space to position himself in front of the renewed targets. 

#sabazio #[ took too many days forgive poor slow me hhh ] #[ uni being eh ] #[ but akimitsu making me go AA ] #[ and just in time for Feels and her Bday ] #[ 05. тнєу тнιηк ɗαякηєѕѕ ιѕ тнє ɩιgнт ] #(( ic ;; ʷᶤᵗᶰᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᶤᵒᶰ )) #[ and just now i realized i haven't numbered this thread im a fool but !! ] #[ attempted murder at the festival excuse her. ] #long post

[dolgelo]

What puts tears on your face is the kindness in your heart.  And a girl who knows this kindness will be a most beautiful, beautiful woman. 🎶

#┈ ┊ two crowns for a single throne ┊ akihiko and mitsuru #(( art ;; ᵖʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉᶰˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᶤʳᵉ )) #[ once again blessed by xoe ] #[ who graced akimitsu week with this ;___; ]

[dolgelo]

rcborne‌:

he found it difficult to be in the same room as the head of the kirijo group nowadays . the situation in inaba ; being forced to confront his trauma , to confront the pain he’d suppressed his whole life .  he’d let it bottle up too much , but he was a professional .  a meeting with his superior was no time to bring up his personal issues .

a qucik breath & he managed to find his centre , returning himself to the situation at hand .  “well , ma;am , i realise we were successful in our objective but … the shadows we found were localised entirely within one building .  and i found traces of a plume of dusk .”  found was a strong word , it was more like a feeling .  a burning in his chest ; where his own fragment of nyx was buried .  there were scarce few who knew of their existence , fewer still who were still breathing .  he didn’t want to say it out loud , lest his objectivity be brought into doubt .  but ..  if there were even a shred of a chance that he could be right , he wanted to investigate .  “i believe there may be remnants of former kirijo group researchers continuing their experiments .”

Very few things, upon being mentioned, were truly capable of sending shivers down her spine in such a tremendous fashion. Among those most terrific thoughts, the plumes would be classified as one the worst. The hand resting on her lap did close in a fist, and she stopped playing idly with the pen; it was as they had suspected. Perhaps other Workers did think the same, yet would not dare to hypnotize it in her presence; he wouldn’t hold his tongue at the idea, it was something she both admired and was justly wary of. 

« When the facility of Port Island went down in flames-- »  she said, lowering her tone of voice and eyes.  « We thought all the samples left of plumes to have been destroyed. We were wrong, of course. »  the hypothesis the remnants couldn’t ever be localized all and disposed of had started to sound more and more plausible for an option - it kept her vigilant, scared even. She had known firsthand the pain and atrocities they could cause. A glance at every full moon, or a mere image of hospitals room flashing through her mind could very well remind her at any given time.

A little cough to clear her throat of that bad memories, of the bad feelings and intuitions lingering on her lips -- and that could be allowed, the reunion per se was over.  « My grandfather had many collaborators, people he trusted. And not just here. Their distance might’ve saved them, but to know whether they were gifted part of his... collection, that’s hard to say. Nothing of that was ever recorded. »  and for a good reason.

#rcborne #(( ic ;; ʷᶤᵗᶰᵉˢˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵍʳᵃᶜᵉᶠᵘˡ ᵉˣᵉᶜᵘᵗᶤᵒᶰ )) #[ no problem im all EYESEMOj ] #[ 05. тнєу тнιηк ɗαякηєѕѕ ιѕ тнє ɩιgнт ]

[dolgelo]

she care him :)

#p3wm #┈ ┊ two crowns for a single throne ┊ akihiko and mitsuru