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mochikeiji · 3 years

Text

Come Home

↠ Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

↠ Warning: anxiety attacks, pregnancy, manga spoiler! chapter 91 (for those who have not read)

↬ Word Count: 2k

If death was giving you a sign at this very moment, it would be the cold ticks each second the clock on your empty apartment room echoed. Each second comes an outbursts of numerous emotions. On the first tick sent shivers on your skin, the second felt like small pricks of hair slowly rose up as goosebumps followed after, third was the frantic tapping of your foot on the carpeted floor as you bounced your leg.

On the outside, you would've been labelled as overreacting. On the inside, you were slowly dying.

As of now time felt like a never ending torture. It was a tug of war between trust in your husband or the one in your gut; a battle between mind and heart, to whom should you choose to believe in? How long do you plan on standing at the edge of the cliff not knowing the faith that has been laid out for you and the most powerful shaman? To whom do you concede to?

A critical position for you to be in. If Gojo were here beside you, not only would you have to wince at the feeling of his finger flicking your forehead, but also a round of uncharacteristic scolding about how bad it is to be stressed out or anxious because of the growing life inside of you. Well, none of this wouldn't have happened if he didn't left. But as all married couples are out there, you are one of the majority that did not want to tie their partners down from what they were meant to do. Especially if your partner is the most needed person in the world.

You couldn't tell him not to go out. Not out there on the field you've come to grow as a sorcerer yourself. The deaths of your fallen comrades and innocent civilians, the demands of the elders and powerful clans. Most of all, being part of the theatre death had directed. No one knows who'd be next to live another day or to be at forever slumber. And your husband was one of the main casts in this scene. Someone who'd always be near death's door only to keep taunting the horrifying God.

It was all fun and games before. It was either ride or die with Gojo during your youthful days. But as time progressed, and the upcoming family you both had dreamed of was at its peak, from that moment every thing came crashing down. It wasn't hormones anymore. It wasn't simple.

You were beyond terrified.

"Please come home."

Not even realizing you were already kneeling down from the couch you were seated, hands clasps together hard, the veins prodding out as if they were going to pop. A silent mantra of pleads to the unknown world you were stuck in. Chest heaving harshly, tears and snot mixing as they fell down the cushions. You didn't feel them. You couldn't see anything.

There was no way to describe the gaping hole that had swallowed you to your deepest depths of fear.

"Come home, Satoru.."

Was the last thing that had been uttered out from your lips before the dark hushes turned into soft cooes. The once imaginary prickly like nails that was scraping your body changed into gentle strokes on your back and onto your bulging stomach.

If there was no way to describe your fears, what is there to be said for the immense heart break of your own husband coming home to see you knelt down with cascading despair written all over your features? The image of the cheery, and powerful woman he's had of you now haunted by what he had came home to.

Though Gojo never had the brightest personality to everyone, he would trade every thing he has if it meant for you to be pulled out from where he had dragged you in.

He knew from the start loving you would mean a lot. You were every thing he wanted and yearned for in life. The love he always came home to. Cursing his naive self of erasing the fact that you were only human.

You had your limitations and this was it.

"Hey, wifey, shhh." the warmth of his breath next to your ear made you choke a sob. Having his body shield your smaller one from behind with his hands now trapping your still clasped ones. "I'm here, I'm not going any where. Not now or ever." his white hair tickling the side of your cheek as he rubbed the side of his face onto the your tear stained ones. If there was one thing everyone knew he was good at, it was being overly affectionate. Not that you'd complain.

His thumbs massages the back of your hands, smoothing down the veins in hopes of easing your grip. He should probably thank Yuuji for passing out hours ago, if not he'd be still stuck training the young lad and have you deal with this torment possibly longer. Even so, he was glad he had manage to finish up early. At your 7 month of pregnancy he wouldn't dare take longer. He didn't like being away, he never did. Always cursing at those who demand his presence. All he wanted was to stay home with you.

Home where everything is safe.

"Let's get you up, kay? May I carry you?" it was a shock on how uncharacteristically cautious he's become ever since your pregnancy. No one knew the Gojo Satoru knows when to tone it down on situations. It was all heart warming, you wanted to cry.

You gave him a small nod, feeling your body hoisted up from the floor and nested on top of his lap with ease. Never failing to amaze you how you managed to marry this man. The man you'd devotedly pray to the heavens would come back to you alive.

As his arms finally settled on your waist, moving at an upward then downward motion, he rubs your sides. Slowly coming to the globe of your stomach with a soft hum, he watches you deeply with a soft gaze behind his interfering blindfold.

Sighing shakily, you shifted your position a bit to the side, allowing yourself to lean your cheek on his left pectoral, listening to the rhythm his heart beat, sobs died down into sniffles and hiccups. You twiddled with his fingers placed on your stomach. The anxiety inside you barely disappeared, but tamed for the moment.

A light peck on your forehead was placed, snapping you back from the little world that had consumed you, down back in the arms of your beloved husband as he smiles and wipes away the left over tears, "Hi there, honey."

Focused on the warmth his palm emits, you reached out over his covered eyes, sliding away the blindfold, freeing the captivating azure gaze he possesses as they held nothing but love piercing back to your teary ones. His hair framing his adorning features, yet so perfect and lively he was smiling at you. The image of this man you wanted to wake up to every day. To welcome, to smile with, to live, and to love.

"Satoru.."

Cupping your cheeks in worry, the serene peace disappearing from him when his brows furrowed with his lips frantically hushing you. Parental instincts kicking in as he eyed your stomach in wonder how your dear child was holding up with the mountain of negative emotions crowding you, "Honey, you need to stay calm. Our little bun in there might have trouble baking you know?" he whispered close to your lips, foreheads leaned onto yours.

"Oh, Satoru." a broken smile formed from your quivering lips, "You're home, you're home." thumbs coming close to stroke his lids softly down to his cheeks. Fragile, that's how you'd describe yourself in touching your husband. Every day from the moment you lived with him are days you two cannot be separated from each other's lingering touches. Even so, on those days it still felt like it was too good to be true to have each other embraced away from the terrors of the world.

"I'm home, I'm home." sealing away your sobs with his lips to yours, letting you feel all of his emotions and unspoken vows within the action of only you two could share forever. The love he never knew he was capable of only for you and your child to be gifted of.

"I'm scared." pulling away as you shut your eyes. The dark hushes returning, coming back to haunt you of what is in store for tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, and so on. The strings attached upon you two, unknowing who was in control of your faiths. "Satoru, I'm scared. Please don't go anymore."

Confessing all of your troubles, he tightens his hold around you. Not a chance, he curses in his head would he allow himself to be defeated so easily and submitting himself to the awaiting gates of death.

"What if you don't come back to me anymore?"

Not a chance, was he going to die after happiness is just within his reach. Longing for something so surreal his entire life. He wasn't going out without having a taste of the sweetness of he now calls home in his life. Not ever. Not when he knows he's the strongest and will continue to reign as he is.

"Honey loves, I'll always come home to you." a vow he seals with the gaze he has locked with yours. The golden band that was proudly worn on his finger from his left hand above your stomach, "I'll always come home to you both, my sweet loves." a vow for only the two people in his life that kept him going. He will always keep his word by heart.

Though it was known that it wasn't enough to fully assure you. The comfort of today was much appreciated and needed for you to finally sigh out one last bit of the sadness, and giving him a teary smile.

"I love you, Satoru."

A melodic sound his heart would crave for every day. Definitely another thing worth coming home if he could hear it again and again.

Smiling mischievously, he reciprocates the feeling by stealing another one of your kisses whilst cradling your body and stomach. He wonders how long would it take for your baby to come meet him. He could hardly wait anymore.

"I love you more."

Was the last thing he had said before his eyes shut close to bask in the warmth and safety of his domain. His and yours little domain. One day to be shared with either a mini you or him between your arms, erupting small giggles into the air.

He couldn't wait to come home to that very day.

Not to wake up another second.

Or was it a minute?

An hour?

He couldn't tell. For time was unpredictable inside the realm he was kept imprisoned.

"Oh, another dream."

An old memory he has with you over months ago.

A breathy chuckle comes out. Was it another thing to mock him of his moment of weakness? Where he could do nothing but lay down and wait for he knows nothing of what could and what was happening?

His bones were on fire. The caged rage inside of him waiting to be freed as he could hear the cackles of his own enemies having to won over him.

"Come home to me."

No, they have not.

The fight was still going. He knows deep down as his faith on his beloved students remains strongly as his love and promises to you. Somehow, some way, he will get out. Like before, time is the enemy. He could only hope that you're holding up for the mean time. It was only matter of time you would be giving birth as well.

And he wasn't planning on missing out the biggest part of his life.

Nor was he planning on letting his enemies run free easily. They were going to pay.

He was going to pay.

"I'm coming home. Wait for me."

Thus begins the string of faith as every thing is set into motion.

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ificouldau · 4 years

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Section 3 - Chapter 24

50% of you chose to watch a movie.

50% of you chose to play games.

You glance back towards the rest of the group, all gathered in confusion as Hansol waits patiently for an answer.

“Now?” You ask quietly, “Here? Are… are you sure?” “I mean, we can do both, so-”

You all watch on as Vernon pulls open a drawer under the television, pulling out four game controllers and settling them on the glass coffee table before him. His movements are ominously comfortable. No one speaks for a second. “We’re going to be fine,” The boy assures the group with bold eyes, holding one of the controllers in the air, “Now, are we playing or not?”

It takes a few minutes of nervous glances and mumbles for everyone to force themselves into settling in. The thought of something fun after hell is blissful. After all, none of you have much of a choice.

As you take a steady seat, Jihoon settles himself on the floor in front of you, passing back a controller. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” you smile teasingly, “but I won’t need it.”

After grabbing his own controller, Wonwoo stops in front of you. He extends his hand out in an offered handshake, eyes slanted down at you challengingly. “I won’t go easy on you, just so you know.”

Your competitiveness comes out in the form of a small scoff, “And I won’t lose... Just so you know.”

You, Wonwoo, Seokmin, and Joshua sit ramrod straight as the intro song to Mario Kart 8 starts blaring out of the industrial speakers. The others gather about the couch, leaning against the backrest with eager eyes and quiet conversation.

Your thumbs rest comfortably on the joysticks as the numbers begin counting down. 3, 2… You find yourself smirking, already certain you’ll win.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Wonwoo cautions.

As the cartoon flag unfurls, the four cars shoot forward, twisting and turning around the others. Wonwoo drives his car through a hidden shortcut, you tailing him closely behind.

Behind you both, Seokmin’s car falls off the edge of the track, placing him in the very back. You and Wonwoo fight hard for first place, constantly switching rankings.

As you near the finishing line, you and Wonwoo are neck and neck. Right as you’re about to cross the threshold, however, Joshua tosses a powerup, sending both of your cars flying backwards. Before you can react, a fourth car comes hurling down the track.

Seokmin’s car, led by a speed booster, flies straight for the finish line. Wonwoo regains his ground as he hurries to move his car.

Before you can think to catch up, Seokmin zooms directly under the checkered flag, fireworks exploding in celebration. Wonwoo is quick to follow, passing over the line as he plops backwards on the couch in defeat. You speed up in desperation, not ready to settle with last place, but before you can pass the finish line, Shua’s car veers to the side and falls off the edge.

You speed past the final flag as loud music begins to play.

“Aw dang. I lost.” Shua laughs, eyes crinkling into a friendly smile. As the winning screen flashes over the television, you lower your controller, glaring over at him in suspicion.

“You did that on purpose.”

His shoulders bob up and down in warm laughter as Wonwoo turns to you. “Not as good as you thought you were, eh?”

“I never said I would win.” You challenge, “I said I wouldn’t lose... which I didn’t.”

“You didn’t lose, but I won!” Seokmin shouts, jumping onto the couch and raising his arms in excitement.

The boys congratulate him endlessly, singing and shouting their praise. Your laughter fades, however, as a tense Vernon beside you catches your eye. He seems stressed, bouncing a leg up and down anxiously on the marble floors. Though the kid tries his hardest to smile Seokmin’s way, you notice his eyes moving frantically around the room.

“Hey,” you whisper, leaning closer to him, “Is everything okay? If something’s wrong, we can-”

“No, no...” Hansol mutters, “This is the safest place we can be right now. Ignore me.”

His anxious state makes you desperate to calm his nerves. “Vernon-”

“Movies should be in the third drawer,” The boy announces before you can finish your sentence. The boys pipe back up into cheerful conversation, Chan hurrying over to pop a DVD into the movie player.

“What movie is this?” Jeonghan asks.

“No clue,” Chan says, pressing play, “I just grabbed one at random.”

You furrow your brows over at Vernon, running a hand nervously through his hair as he tries to sit back and stomach through the introduction screen. The other boys are so easily caught up in the sudden entertainment, but you try your best to focus and join without thinking too much of the situation.

After a couple of dreadfully long hours, the credits begin to roll and the boys stretch their arms in the air with tired yawns.

The movie was terrible. A cheesy drama about a girl running away from a serial killer, all while finding her true love in the midst of danger. After defeating the villain, the main character marries her love and they move far, far away together in isolation. There were so many plot twists that it was impossible to guess the ending. You rack your brain desperately for some sense of satisfaction, trying your hardest to piece together all of the shitty story. At least it ended happily. You raise an eyebrow, feeling more puzzled than ever.

As the end credits roll on further, you turn about to face the others. More than half of them are crying. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“Wh- why are you all crying…?”

“How are you not?” Seokmin asks, exasperated, “They were in love!”

“And they escaped together despite everything the world put them through!” Seungkwan cries.

“And they had such a pretty wedding,” Mingyu sniffles, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.

Before you get the chance to laugh, the man with the dirty blonde hair enters the room. He’s changed out of his dress shirt, sporting a freshly pressed t-shirt and joggers as he stands before the fourteen of you. He pushes his glasses further upon his face with his gloves, a fresh smile dancing across his face.

“Kids,” he says warmly, “dinner’s ready. You must be starving.”

The fourteen of you exchange cautious glances, silently ensuring that this would be okay. After all that has happened to you, you’ve learned better than to trust any hospitable stranger. Before anyone can think otherwise, however, Vernon stands up and begins treading towards the dining room door without hesitation.

“Alright,” Coups says, standing up, “I guess we’re eating.”

The man gestures the rest of you into the dining room, leaving you all in awe at such a sight. The moonlight rises steadily behind the room’s high, shining windows, and you find the table scattered with colorful light from the crystal chandelier. The table itself is a sight to behold, its varnished wooden surface extending down the entirety of the room to seat an entire classroom or two. Fine china is placed along each seat, porcelain teacups circling around the steaming hot food in the center.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I made a lot of different dishes.” The man stammers, as if his whole life relied on you all liking the meal.

“Thank you!” You grin, eyes trailing over the countless plates and bowls, “This is wonderful!”

“Oh, Vernon, look! Hamburgers, your favorite!” Joshua points out, hoping to get the boy to calm down.

Still, Vernon only seems to be more upset. “Yeah.”

All of you are quick to sit around the table, Mingyu taking place at the head. Soonyoung sits across from you, with Vernon to your left and Jihoon to your right.

“Sir, thank you for this meal! We’ll definitely enjoy this.” Seungcheol says gratefully.

“Oh, my pleasure!” The man laughs, waving off the thanks, “And please, call me Uncle!”

He takes a seat opposite from Mingyu, helping you all to load your plates. “Now is a perfect opportunity for me to explain a few things.”

You watch him intently, curious as to who he is and what his intentions truly are. Though Vernon knows more than he lets off, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally ended up in a good place.

“I know that you were sent here by my old friend. I can’t go into much detail, but just know that we’re on your side.” He begins, smiling kindly at you all in turn. “You’re safe here. This town is a quiet one, and everyone tends to mind their business here. Because of this, you’ll be able to go outside safely, as long as you don’t stray too far.”

With this new knowledge, all fourteen of you freeze up in shock. You… You can go outside? He must be joking.

“All I ask is that you don’t enter my personal room or use any phones. I know you probably want to call home, but I’m sorry to say that phones are too easy to track. It’s safer this way.” As he continues to speak, his eyes trail carefully over to Vernon. The younger boy doesn’t return his stare, thoroughly chewing his food bite by bite. The stranger refrains a frown, but continues to speak regardless. “Ah, yes… If any of you are hurt, follow me and I can help you out.”

Mingyu glances down at the dried blood staining his dirty shirt. The man clears his throat, raising a green bottle to the air. You all look back up with overly eager eyes.

“By the way...” He continues, “Do any of you drink?”

Within the next half hour, you’re all slumped over your chairs.

A few bottles of wine and soju sit, scattered, about the tabletop. Some of the boys start playing drinking games while your side of the table quietly chats. You gently nudge your wine glass across the table and Minghao pours you more alcohol.

Watching the red liquid flow into the glass, you turn to Jihoon. “You don’t want any?”

“No thanks.” Jihoon mumbles, tired, “I don’t drink.”

“Bummer,” You mumble, taking a slow sip of your wine.

Next to you, Vernon tosses his head back as he gulps down a shot.

“Geez,” Mingyu mumbles, looking clearly worried. A long strip of cloth has been freshly wrapped around his stomach and shoulder, and the boy looks better than ever with a fresh new shirt and a cleaned up face. “Hansol... you okay?”

“Y-yup.” Vernon mutters, his words slurring, “Never better.”

You reach your hand out to stop the boy from taking another shot, until Soonyoung starts shouting from across the table. “Hey, you! Girl!”

Sighing, you turn to him in annoyance, “What?”

“Why are you-” Soonyoung hiccups. It’s clear that he’s much drunker than Hansol at this point, “Why did you have to ruin everything?”

“What?”

“Yes. You ruined everything. Nobody… Nobody listens to anything I say..”

“Soonyoung-”

“God, shut up! Let me talk. Before we met… met you, I had a say in everything.. But now, now everyone listens to you… You decide where we go, what we do. Why? I miss my friends… you took them- You...”

“Soonyoung.” Jihoon says warningly.

“Hmph, fine I get it- I hope you’re happy with your girlfriend. Running off and shit-”

Soonyoung’s head droops as he mumbles, eventually crashing onto the table as his eyes fall to a still close. You peer over to see that he’s fast asleep.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you turn to see Hansol, holding his shot glass in one hand and a bottle of soju in the other.

“Hey... wanna… wanna know a secret?” Vernon whispers, nudging your shoulder with his elbow.

“Hansol, you’re drunk.”

“Yeah. I am. But guess what?”

“Yeah, what?”

“That note I crushed into the snow- the address… I know it! I know it perfectly… It’s-”

You listen as Hansol lists off numbers to an address that you already know. He mutters the address to the same building that you’re sitting in, making you involuntarily laugh. As if caring for a small child, you softly take his shot glass away and pat his back. “Thank you for telling me. You should get some rest, alright?”

“Yeah, alright…” Hansol’s head falls softly into his folded arms and he quickly falls asleep.

“God.” Jihoon mutters, concern filling his face, “What’s up with him recently?”

At this, those still conscious turn to look at Hansol, softly snoring.

You’ve been wondering the exact same thing.

From then, time passed… so much faster than you could ever imagine.

A week went by without so much as a peep from any cult, not a single dark cloak in sight.

You continued to live a quiet life, visiting stores and taking walks on the roads despite everything you’d ever gone through. As the days passed, living hell turned into an oddly quiet vacation, one in which you all enjoyed without a s

Even though Vernon was acting strange, he wasn’t wrong when he said that this place was safe. You all went out for the first time, just to look around. At first, it was terrifying and you kept feeling the need to hide yourself. Over time, though, things got better. You fell into a nearly normal routine.

One morning, the chirping of the birds awake you. This is the first time in a long while that you’ve woken up to such a pretty sound. Stretching, you wash your hair and brush your teeth. After throwing on clean clothes, you run into the kitchen to look for Jihoon.

Last night, Seungcheol decided that we have to pay Uncle back in any way we can. We decided to help out around the house. Since Jihoon never chose a job to do, you decided to drag him along with your chores.

Since you couldn’t find him in the living room or kitchen, you decide to knock on the door to his room.

“Come in.”

Upon entering, you find Jihoon lounging on his bed, playing around with a small, wooden brain puzzle.

“What are you doing? Get up, we have to go.” You complain, dragging him to a stand.

“What? Where are we going?”

“Well, mostly everyone else is already doing something. The only chores left are grocery shopping and laundry. Which do you wanna do?”

Walking towards the bathroom, Jihoon waves his hand towards you, “I’m fine with either. I’ll get ready, you decide.”

“Hm, okay!”

- Do laundry with Woozi.

- Go grocery shopping with Woozi.

( Vote now on instagram.com/ificould_au. You have 24 hours. )

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smokin-gun · 4 years

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LFRP - Nyx Ashkala

The Basics ––

Age: 35

Birthday: 27th Sun of the 3rd Astral Moon (5/27)

Race: Seeker of the Sun, Miqo’te

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Hererosexual

Marital Status: Single

Server: Mateus/Balmung, Crystal Data Center

Physical Appearance ––

Hair: Golden blonde with a long, loosely tied ponytail, right side is braided with a bit of a side shave/fade

Eyes: Amber

Height: 6”1’ (About 185 cm)

Build: Broad shouldered and overly tall for a Miqo’te. His upper body has a distinguished V-shape and his waist is rather trim. Powerful legs round out the well-trained look.

Distinguishing Marks: The first and most obvious marking on his body is a scar that runs down a good portion of his right eye. As for the rest of him, his entire body is almost covered in tattoos with a very unique design. Each one bears a similarity to patterns found on Garlean technology and some may even be of Allagan origin.

Common Accessories: You will never catch Nyx without cigarettes, a lighter, and some sort of firearm, usually his gunblade with the words “Saving Grace” etched on the side of it.

Personal –––

Profession: Originally, Nyx worked as a weaponsmith with his father when they relocated to Gridania, but it wasn’t long after he’d left his family for Ul’dah that he took on the very common job of mercenary. He still holds that title now, but his jobs are varied and not quite as traumatic.

Hobbies: Smoking, people watching, climbing the highest shit, and building firearms and adaptive armors.

Languages: Common Eorzean

Residence: Nomadic, but lives temporarily in an apartment above a bar in the Brume, Ishgard.

Birthplace: Southern Thanalan, Sagolii Desert

Religion: Atheist

Patron Deity: N/A

Fears: Dying before redeeming himself, getting innocent people killed, drowning in two inches of water.

Relationships –––

Significant Other: N/A

Parents: A’jakab Tia and A’shandra Ashkala

Siblings: A’ria Ashkala •

Other Relatives: Unknown at this time.

Pets: Lily, a small, Magitek bird with various uses.

Traits –––

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Additional information –––

Smoking Habit: Nyx smokes like a chimney and is unashamed by it. In fact, he’s been known to light up near people and received many looks from it, unaware that he was even being rude.

Drugs: While he’s tried pretty much everything under the sun, he’s much more partial to keeping his wits about him and not relying on the crazy stuff to get his rocks off.

Alcohol: Having been a bartender for many seasons when he wasn’t working his actual jobs, Nyx has been known to imbibe on occasion. He could probably even be considered an alcoholic due to his reliance on the stuff when he’s in a shit mood. His favorites are rum, whiskey, and ale.

RP Hooks –––

Mercenary: At 35 seasons, Nyx has been a mercenary for quite a while... starting when he was just 19 seasons. His experience is rather varied and expansive, but most interesting is who he’s worked for in the past. Perhaps when offered the right information in return, he’d be willing to divulge more information.

Adaptive Armor: Nyx has recently begun a development on what he calls “adaptive armor”. So far he’s managed to create a weapon system that allows his gun to shift into not only a piece of armor, but other weapons as well. While not as strong as their original counterparts (yet), his designs allow for a great degree of mobility and versatility. Because of the nature of the weapons, he has a great deal of experience with Magitek armor and prosthetics, as well as creating weaponry for persons lacking the aether to power their own weapons of choice.

Tattoos: This Miqo’te is bone too shy about sharing his love of getting his body inked. Often going sleeveless with fitted tank tops, it would be easy to see them at basically any given time. If one is observant, they might recognize the importance of these tattoos and what their actual purpose is... and those geometric patterns might not just be for show... one could say they almost flicker with energy.

Garlean Influence: While usually reluctant to admit it on any level, there is something about Nyx’s behaviors and fighting style that are reminiscent of a certain Empire. With enough trust and prodding, it’s possible he might divulge these reasons to the right person.

Heavy Accent: If his mouth is open, this one is incredibly obvious. While many Miqo’te hailing from the desert have an accent of their own, Nyx’s own came from an amalgamation of voice heard while staying in Ul’dah. When angry or irritated, it grows thicker and sometimes unintelligible. (It’s Scottish. Think Gerard Butler!)

Contact Information & OOC –––

Discord: Wanderlust#6174

Ingame: Nyx Ashkala - Mateus

Twitter: OutOfManaStudio

IG: OutofMPFFXIV

I would love to meet all sorts of IC contacts for character development! I’m less of a small RP event type of person and more of a “Hey, let’s write together, ok?” kind. Darker/Mature themes are great, but I can also go for light-hearted things as well.

Making friends while RPing is a plus! So is meeting other artists!

Please be 18+ when approaching me for RP. While I have RPed around minors, I prefer to not have to censor myself or avoid darker themes. It’s just a topic I would rather not have to deal with.

RP is never strictly just in the game since I have many friends that can’t afford subs at times or simply work and cannot spare moments to log in and do so. However, I’d love to meet ingame a few times before immediately going to Discord. Game is always preferred but not necessary.

I ask that my real life gender and marital statues be respected, and for all people reaching out to never expect to gain any sort of romantic leverage over me IRL. I detest cheating and will drop anyone that attempts to use RP as a means to destroy IRL relationships.

IC will remain IC! I have a zero tolerance policy when it comes to people taking things personally from RP and bringing them into an OOC setting. If you find yourself confused about something, ask ask ask! I am more than happy to discuss RP and will always warn someone and talk about something if I feel it’s a theme/action that could come across badly.

That being said, I would really love to make friends and expand my RP circle. Also, if you’re an FFXIV artist, bonus points to you as well! I love meeting other artists.

@ffxiv-crystal-rp

Art by me and @cactusgarrus.

#nyx ashkala #ffxiv #mateus roleplayer #balmung #crystal data center #crystalrp #crystalrpffxiv #crystalffxiv #ffxiv roleplayer #mateus #miqote #miqo'te

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but-first--tea · 5 years

Text

LFRP: Kyraeth Vale

location: Crystal Data Center (Balmung)

full name: Kyraeth Aille Vale pronunciation: Keer-uh-eeth Awl-uh Vale (The Celtic origin of the name is Cyhiraeth, but I altered the spelling to make it more user friendly.) nicknames: Kyra height: 5'6" age: 27 (almost 28, her birthday is next month!)

languages: common, Sharlayan, can read some ancient languages but doesn't speak them

relationship status: single

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

hair color: copper eye color: pale green skin tone: fair body type: lithe accent: Sharlayan, with definite Limsan influence posture: poised and confident scars: none visible accessories: a silver chain that bears a darkened crystal pendant which is typically always hidden from view

Traits

Extroverted / In Between / Introverted

Disorganized / In Between / Organized

Close Minded / In Between / Open Minded

Calm / In Between / Anxious

Disagreeable / In Between / Agreeable

Cautious / In Between / Reckless

Patient / In Between / Impatient

Outspoken / In Between / Reserved

Leader / In Between / Follower

Empathetic / In Between / Apathetic

Optimistic / In Between / Pessimistic

Traditional / In Between / Modern

Hard-working / In Between / Lazy

Cultured / In Between / Uncultured

Faithful / In Between / Unfaithful

Loyal / In Between / Disloyal

CHILDHOOD

Much of her very early childhood was spent moving from place to place as her parents avoided any potential pursuit for their crime. However, most of her memories are of growing up in Limsa, her father often at sea, her mother coddling her and worried about her frequent illness, and her older brother bringing back piles of books from Gridania to keep her occupied. Her life changed completely when a stranger calling himself Drutwas showed up and offered her the "cure" for her illness.

place of birth: Sharlayan

hometown: Limsa Lominsa, though she's spent the last two years traveling abroad

siblings: an older brother named Faolan, deceased 4 years ago

parents: Mathu and Irnan Vale. Irnan deceased 2 years ago

upbringing: by her highly overprotective family, reading as many books as she could get her hands on, and awaiting more tales of her "privateer" father's adventures at sea.

ADULT LIFE

Kyra's entire world changed when the cause of her frequent illness was "cured" by a man calling himself Drutwas. He was later revealed to be a lesser Ascian attempting to manipulate her to his own ends. Much of her adult life has been focused on attempting to free herself from his machinations, and finding a way to end him. After years of working toward this goal, her beloved Tay sacrificed himself, binding his own spirit into a relic that now serves as the Ascian's prison. She has promised to make his sacrifice worthwhile, and live the best life she can, moving forward.

Character RP History: located here.

occupation: soulcrafter/spirit healer (not advertised openly), aetheric researcher

current residence: Goblet

financial status: never seems wanting for gil, but doesn't flaunt it, either.

weapons: arcanima, being smart enough to avoid the fight in the first place, a sword that she doesn’t seem to know how to wield, its hilt wrapped in silk painted with warding sigils.

vices: reckless and impulsive behavior, a weakness for rum, a bit of hedonistic tendency

SEX & ROMANCE

sexual orientation: heterosexual, demisexual

preferred sexual role: switch

turn ons: strength, altruism, intelligence, emotional maturity, intensity, strong-willed, determined, kind, sense of humor, confidence, loyalty, time spent together, a bit of danger

turn offs: ignorance, immaturity, cruelty, drug dependence, submissive, overly charming/insincere, selfish, shallow, betrayal, overly materialistic

love language: trust, a willingness to allow the other to lead, physical contact, devotion, indulging

relationship tendencies: Kyra has experienced a great deal of hardship and loss, and has built up her emotional armor accordingly. While she's not snobbish or hostile, she's difficult to get physically or emotionally close to. She won't assume that anyone particularly cares for her without said person making it too obvious to brush off or ignore. She won't rush into anything. Any relationship with Kyra will be the result of a slow burn. She is monogamous by nature. If she actually physically touches someone voluntarily, it's a fairly significant act. Enjoy a challenge? Here’s your ship!

MISCELLANEOUS

hobbies to pass the time: reading, drinking tea, listening to musical performances, sight seeing/exploring/travel, learning any new skill no matter how random, anything she's never done before (within reason... usually). Currently trying to learn swordsmanship.

mental illness: oh, she has some serious emotional baggage, but nothing that would qualify as an illness.

physical illness: aetheric hypersensitivity, currently "cured"

left or right brain: balanced

self confidence level: situational. Typically very outwardly confident, no matter how she feels about the situation inwardly.

vulnerabilities: self-isolation, a lack of physical combat skill, vulnerable to physical contact

RP HOOKS

walking library: this woman has spent her life researching things as a coping mechanism. If she doesn't know the answer, she can probably tell you where to find it.

also a walking bomb shelter: she is protected with enough magical warding on her person you'd think she were expecting to be hit with a meteor at any moment. Paranoid, much? Anyone aetherically sensitive/trained is probably going to notice this and wonder... what the actual hells?

but... why? She carries a sword with her, always, but can -clearly- not wield it. Anyone experienced with a sword could tell that she's definitely not.

probably in need of a bodyguard: She has a lot of (sometimes rather shady) things she intends to do, and a lot of people/creatures in the way of said things. She’s not really a combat character, and it would go rather badly if she tried to do them alone.

spirit healer: this character focuses on healing non-physical ailments. MSQ has now made this accepted canon, as soulcraft \o/. However, I won't RP her showing up, fixing your problem instantly, and leaving. No heal-botting, please.

searching for an artifact: She's looking for a soulstone to replace one she's had taken from her, in hopes of gaining further insight. She'll chase down any rumors, hints, or leads no matter how bad the idea sounds. It probably won't even be the one she needs, but it's worth looking into all the same.

extremely curious: Have your own story arc? Kyra can’t seem to mind her own business, and can easily be drawn in! Want to hook our stories together so our characters end up working with each other ... or against each other as it plays out? I'm up for plotting and brainstorming!

open to shipping: While this is my one and only RP character and I won’t ship with alts, or engage in AU or multi-shipping, I am interested in potentially developing a romance for this character.

OOC

I am 40 years old, and I started RPing when I was 15. I prefer emotionally mature RP partners, and I have no tolerance for poor communication, toxic behavior, or drama. I am NOT interested in any OOC romance.

I am in the CST time zone, and I make my own schedule. I can be available for Discord RP at nearly any time of day, and in-game things anywhere from 8am to 9pm. However, I’m not a night owl and you won’t find me in game at all after 9pm.

While I don’t do hard core raiding, I do enjoy content. I can play most jobs, and I’m an omnicrafter.

I have a love for very long-term, complex story arcs that can take months, or even years to play out. I don't particularly enjoy "tavern RP" or random scenes that don't build up to anything. I do enjoy slice of life, but only when it's building the character dynamic between co-workers/friends/family/romantic partners. I prefer to put my time into building character connections with strong significance, and as such I'd rather not RP with rarely-played alts.

My character is located on Balmung, but I am happy to RP with characters located anywhere on the Crystal data center.

Discord: Kyraeth#4608

@balmungrp @ffxiv-crystal-rp @mooglemeet

#ffxiv rp #lfrp #crystal dc #balmung rp

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e8luhs · 4 years

Note

i am very excited for refactoring!! i already love the characters. can you tell us more about the main cast? like personality and interests and stuff.

AW YES IM SO GLAD THAT YOURE EXCITED!! i got this ask this morning and it seriously made me want to stay home from school and just infodump. im putting this under a cut since it will probably get a bit long i just kind of wrote down some fun tidbits and etc

mavis

absolute jock-passing nerd. she dresses like she Does Sport even though she did like quiz bowl and whatnot instead.

shes quite chill and thoughtful (its the taurus rising) but gets easily bored and needs constantly new forms of stimulation to stay motivated. she loves a challenge and basically feeds off of that kind of stuff. this really only cancelled out when its something deeply stressful (like being teleported to an entirely new dimension and all that). she CAN settle down into one spot and feel comfortable with that so long as she isnt BORED because GOD FORBID SHES BORED.

mavis likes science but especially astronomy, and despite everything shes actually really into horror movies and the paranormal too. a definite Halloween Enthusiast and also listens to lemon demon dare i say.

whenever shes stressed or frustrated or anxious her knee jerk instinct is to try and joke about it and move on. she isnt really direct about how she feels and whatnot and when she IS its usually via punchline.

silas

silas is probably one of the easiest people to read in the cast. its basically impossible for him to lie or say that hes doing well if he isnt. hes a very honest person and expects that kind of honesty from others also, and it becomes really frustrating for him when people arent direct about how they feel

BECAUUUUSEEEE hes also very empathetic. both of the hao siblings are but he goes about it in a very different way than catriona. hes much more like “I have to know everything about why you are upset or else ill die” because if he sees someone sad and doesnt know why it basically eats him up inside until he knows.

hes also a bit of a jokester not about his feelings or anything but just in general! rather than using it as a defense he just really enjoys making people laugh. silas is very sociable.

sometimes he can be a bit of a try hard.... he is really doing his best and i love him. him and lea and mavis all share a need to establish themselves as something greater than they are and his mainly stems from Youngest Sibling Syndrome with a side of boredom with his own life too. mavis and silas really bond over that but silas didnt really take on any escapist tendencies like mavis did. he pushes himself to take action and try many things and considers many paths.

catriona

she has a teddy bear in her room that she hides in a reading cubby because its still important but she feels that her image as Mature and Put Together matters too much to really share that soft side with others. and i think that basically sums her up as a character.

really just needs some fuckin sleep. she is fueled by various caffeinated beverages (her favorites being an overly elaborate coffee order and arizona green tea). shes articulate, but because shes usually running on 4 or 5 hours of sleep she can sometimes miss small details or starts talking faster than her own thoughts+stumbling over her own words.

shes a bit suspicious of other people because shes had her trust tested a lot. catriona is very like kind and warm still though its just that like... you know. if you wrong her its very hard to win her back and she likely wont trust you with anything again.

shes also much more of a “fix it” kind of person when it comes to problems. she will absolutely provide a shoulder to cry on when you need it but at the end of the day she provides very practical support by trying to provide options. she takes the same approach with her own feelings too.

kirabo

basically like “*softly* dont”. they are very cautious and dont take a lot of risks unless theyre absolutely sure that it will work out and there will be a benefit. however, theyre still optimistic and theyre always able to see the best in other people and in any situation. not really in that toxic kind of positivity way... but as in like they are able to appreciate the small things and whatnot

^ that world view is basically why they are so into botany. its very precise but its something small that you can really appreciate and see your own success in little by little. they also like arts and crafts.

they are incredibly diplomatic despite their initial virgo stubbornness. theyre really open to other perspectives and theyre very patient/understanding. kirabo and catriona are basically opposites in this respect and so they balance eachother out a lot here.... they are like bestest buds.

they are very big on like Emotionally Productive Self Care. kirabo WILL put on a face mask and will be like “dont @ me i am chillin”. and they will be like “enough is enough i am going to knit a fucking scarf a second”. they just have a lot of little hobbies to keep them busy like that because they are super fidgety. anxious energy... the mercury-ism

minka

absolutely hates being underestimated in any capacity. minka is fully aware of her intelligence and capabilities and expresses no qualms with it whatsoever. alot of her insecurity ends up lying in her social life and etc. shes just been through a lot and really just wants to share her passions with other people.

really likes to decorate and APPEARS messy but is super organized. she has that sort of “chaotic order” thing going on where she can locate something even if its under a huge pile of random stuff. she has lots of stickers and lots of color-coding methods too.

will do the “are we there yet” thing and the “why? why? why?” thing. mostly out of curiosity to see how far she can go. she is always so curious about how far she can go with everything. so once she finds company she basically never wants to be alone. shes very talkative and inquisitive.

a baby bi.... she is still figuring it out a little though

lea

a little >:3c and i like love that for her. she has a lot of charisma and energy and those are things that she really NEEDS TO HAVE with being a video game streamer and all but deep down shes just really mischievous and playful too.

i consider her a vriska by technicality. she has a lot of issues revolving around her identity and how people perceive her because so much of the time she deals with people projecting an idea of what shes like onto her. so alot of her thing is allowing herself to just be rather than feeling like she needs to put on a show.

^ shes actually probably one of the hardest people to read in the cast because of that. its not that shes not being herself... its just that she feels like she needs to be a pretty altered version of herself. the neptune in 1st struggle. she also kind of tends to have one foot out the door on everything but it makes her very adaptable. pretty much opposite to mavis in that its hard for her to settle down in any sense.

has a scorpio mercury but a libra venus so basically like “good luck my deep lovecore affections for you will be hidden behind several proxies”. also it just makes it to where she comes off very Intense at first as is the scorpio placement way. but really its fucking great and i love her.

trinity

well theyre a scorpio sun AND a scorpio moon aka theyre like “i will know everything about you but you will never know anything about me ever” and also theyre like *rebirth* *rebirth* *rebirth*

despite what the emotional constipation and capricorn rising may tell you they are seriously A Lot. they make very quick decisions based on any instantaneous assumptions that they have so deep down theyre just very emotional and impulsive. AND intuitive which is partially because they are analytical of others but all around theyre mostly guided by like Vibez.

their precognition is kind of like if you randomly started having dreams during the day and only saw them through your left eye. so more than anything they get kind of like... weird deja vu when they talk to people or go to places that theyve seen in their visions.

really they are just like. okay in theory by first impression they would be a vriska but in actuality they are a rose lalonde because like. come on. theres a certain self-aware yet chaotic and dramatic and repressed je ne sais quoi here

#ask #refactoring #THSI WAS SO FUNNNNN THANK YOU FOR ASKING. YOU ARE SO SWEET

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esonikofanfiction · 5 years

Text

K: TALES OF MIDNIGHT: CHAPTER I: SASHIMI || pt. II

Fushimi gained his feet, choking in the cool night air as though he’d since forgotten how to breathe, or even that he needed to, until his breath came flooding back to him.

Across the pebbled surface of the roof, the woman merely stared at him, stone-frozen as a statue.

Fushimi then recalled with startling vividness: the burn he felt a moment prior, caught within her aura's pitch-black wrath, was not a fiery heat at all but biting as a rain of icy fractals cutting through the skin and puncturing the bone; and with its steady passing, still the sting remained inside this woman's gaze, locking him inside.

Pronounced among her features' snowy confines, all was cold and lifeless, save her eyes, which flashed him with a tinkling of jade; and yet for all their listlessness, they seized him in a manner that he could not comprehend, nor did he particularly wish to comprehend it. What, in truth, he wanted was to rid himself entirely of all concerning her: to take what he had come for and be done with her as quickly as he could.

A moment passed and still she did not move; even so, she seemed to rise as would some haunted being, grim and treacherous before him. She reminded him of a black hole, her very essence that of an anomalistic trap no matter how one went about her: always one would find himself enveloped and consumed. It made him cringe to look at her. He wished to look away but somehow found he couldn't.

He sensed resolution in the strange degree of ravenous regard she seemed to give him; and it dawned on him to wonder why she even bothered being there at all. You got what you came for, he reflected. You even had the lead on me. Why stop and fight and then not even kill me when you clearly had the chance?

Scanning every facet of her sly, unflinching countenance, the large yet highly slitted eyes that looked at him, he found her absolutely blank. It was impossible to divine her thoughts, yet at the time, he realized — rather angrily — that it was too late. A slight reverberation in her eye informed him that she'd read his own transparent features fluently. Her visage, once unmoved, contorted in a grin, causing him to flinch and raise his saber in the air. "The Kawaguchi Algorithm," he spoke in cutting tones. "I know you took it before you chucked the laptop." Holding out his hand, he ordered, "Give it to me."

"You mean you're not going to ask me my name?" She said, blinking into feigned, wide-eyed innocence. Her voice was unexpectedly soft.

"Like I care about your name," he answered in somewhat of a lie. He took a step toward her, his sword-point inching closer to her throat.

"Yes, that's right, you're here for this," she said, pulling out a flash drive from her pocket. Tauntingly, she waved it at him, watching with amusement as he gripped his saber tightly in response, his eyes a trailing movement in alignment with the drive. "You know, you nearly had me back there. Another moment and..." she popped her brow excitedly and smiled, slinking out her tongue in a not-so-subtle lick along the edges of her mouth.

Fushimi sneered at her. ”Better to lose it altogether than to let you run off with it."

“Yes, but without it, you wouldn't be here," she pointed out.

"And I'd really like to leave here, so if you'd just give it to me..." he suggested, at which, she sent him three consecutive clicks of her tongue, accompanied by a finger tapping likewise in the air.

"Not before I have a chance to formally introduce myself. I'm Rei Kiyoka." She blinked: a minute gesture of a bow. "Your living night flower," she added. Again, she donned a fabricated air of sincerity, broken altogether with a wink. "Come now, don't tell me you've not wondered all this time chasing me. You've been on my tail for weeks. I could feel you inching closer day by day." Then adopting a higher mimicking voice, she forced her lips into a pucker. "'But why can't I keep up?' you kept asking yourself. 'Always trailing behind, never making it in time.’" She humphed a little snicker. "I wonder: how many proxies did you meet instead of me these past few weeks?"

“Funny, I don’t see one now,” Fushimi answered dryly, and another laugh escaped her lips, causing him to blink.

"I should hope not," she replied, flitting her slim hand into a wave. "A chase, of course, is fun if there's a bit of bait to test you with, but even that was beginning to grow dull. Quite honestly, the blossoming tediousness of it all was enough to make me anxious. I longed to finally have you." She smirked a sinuous grin, making him uncomfortable, and sighed as one enraptured in a daydream. "Alas, appearances and such forbade me from indulging any earlier than the game itself allowed. My only consolation, then, in being forced to wait, was knowing that in every line of bait, in every trail I left, commanding you to follow, I was merely laying out the pieces that would one day lead you here; and now look at us!" She uttered happily, at which, her smile turned devious. "Together at last."

Just then, alarm awakened in Fushimi and he stiffened in his place. Let alone the obvious vulgarity of Rei Kiyoka's overly refined advance (or was she merely teasing him?), Fushimi dawned more thoroughly on the truth between the fluff and the indecency. 'Laying out the pieces?' He repeated in his mind. Hold on. That would mean...she planned this from the beginning? Eyes alert, he looked at her; she looked at him; no one said a word. So while I was chasing her, she was really chasing me? Or worse: she was baiting me? He lost his breath, cringing in a sudden recoil. What kind of twisted — !

"You're with Scepter 4," She said, cutting off his inner monologue. Unlike him, it seemed, who's mind had momentarily lapsed, Kiyoka had since reached the height of comfortability and began to pace around him, followed by the cautious tip of his sword, on which, she set her finger in a sly, hypnotic gesture up and down its flattened edge. "Third-in-command," she went on, "the one who's name sounds like 'sushi." Once again Fushimi cringed, sending off his saber from her reach, a gesture that she did not seem to mind or even bring herself to notice.

Tapping her same finger on her chin, she feigned an epiphany. "Ah yes, I have it! Sashimi!" Pointing to him, "That's you, right?" She raked her head, eyeing him a bit more snakily than was natural. "Yummy. You know I think from now on I'll get hungry every time I see you."

Fushimi's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll be sure to visit often once you're neatly behind bars — granted I don't kill you first."

Kiyoka rose a single brow. "I see. Best keep me wanting all the time, is that it?"

He blinked into a shrug. "Something like that."

“Well then, Sashimi, until that day comes — because let's face it: that day's not today," she bat her eyes and dipped into a sweeping bow, rising with her rapier aimed at him, "I plan to claim my prize and satisfy my hunger right here, right now."

At this, her farcical tone (he assumed) meant only to mock him, Fushimi waved his sword haphazardly, gaping with a snigger at the lewd absurdity of her words. "And I'm just supposed to what: roll over?" Repositioning his saber in alignment with her blade, he darted her a similarly provoking grin. "Not a chance."

Kiyoka turned her rapier with a simultaneous coil of her neck as like a cobra in observance of its prey. "Don't be boring, Sashimi. Have you not learned your lesson?"

"I'm still here aren't I?"

She hummed a mesmerizing taunt. "By my good graces."

"Then finish it."

Kiyoka seemed to ponder this a moment, or else she faked a slight degree of rapt consideration. "Yes, but then all this would be for naught," she whined. "What a waste." Clicking her tongue, "No, I'm afraid I just can't let that happen," she decided, at which, her rhythmic convolution, partnered with another one of her unfathomable expressions that Fushimi could not hope to comprehend, sent her lunging in a sudden dash, her weapon brought against his in a clang that echoed shrilly in the breeze.

Fushimi darted back, sending out his aura. "What the — !" He shot out. Shaking her away, he thought, You weren't going to kill me then but now you are? Make up your mind!

He parried with a spin (less cheerfully done than hers) and found himself where she had stood while she assumed his former stance, facing him again, her rapier posed and darkened aura sumptuously lit.

It came as no surprise (so livid and confusing were his thoughts), Fushimi's look of fury was perceived by his opponent, and in a laugh as eerily as that of a madman wreaking terror for the fun of it, Kiyoka whirled around his saber, rushing him again, shielding every onslaught while frolicking about as though their parry were a dance, their two conflicting auras linked inside a symphony that played on either set of ears: one of chaos and disorder, yet surprisingly, no genuine disorder came between the pair despite the evident chaos Fushimi met from her before. Strangely, by some unknown and unspeakable force indeterminate yet nonetheless apparent, everything had changed.

With every clash that brought their swords together, Kiyoka's face grew more serene. Her slanted eyes reduced themselves to lazy, verdant pools while all her flowing waves, their rich delightful scent, sailed sweetly in the air. In the same way, her aura fountained downward in a smooth and fluid stream, hardly monstrous anymore, nor torn with poisoned fumes, but sailing to the rhythm of her form, and hers to that of his.

Such balance having formed itself, a bit of life emerged — or something thereabouts. Her former coarse frigidity, what once was so apparent, had subsided like a gust of wind that brought a stir, then promptly slid away. It made Fushimi wary, giving him a sickening sensation to have witnessed transformation pass so flawlessly and seemingly so naturally, when truthfully, he understood that nothing could be further from reality. Thus he was annoyed, and desirably so, for it only proved to nourish her delight as she assailed on him again and again, though never out of malice but to toy with him, to test him and to tease him, less with might and force enacted with an aura but with swiftness and agility in combat with a sword — that, and her all-too-ghostly tremor of a laugh that sent a shiver up his spine — until at last, she leapt apart and spun around to face him, the bulk of her aura sinking to a fog about her sides, her weapon lowered halfway through the cloud.

"My, you're fun to play with, Sashimi.”

"And you're just wasting time," he answered. Observing his slim margin of a chance, he flicked his sleeve and whipped himself about, one-by-one propelling red-soaked daggers through the crack in her defense.

Kiyoka made no effort to resume her aura-shield and therefore counter his attack but rather bounded to the side, spinning past one dagger, then another, while a third produced a twang as it collided with her blade and ricocheted away.

Without the force of an aura, she radiated fluent artistry, yet it was not enough. Fushimi stole the shot and bridged the gap between them with an aura-seeped hand bound tightly round her throat. "That's enough!" He ordered. "End this now. I won't ask you again."

Kiyoka made to laugh, though it only brought his fingers in a deeper wringing hold, cutting off her air. She choked and dropped her rapier to the ground, extending both her arms in signal of defeat. “Alright, Sashimi,” she breathed. “You win.”

"Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled, highly agitated. “Now give me the — "

Another zing ignited in a penetrating burst that sent him sprawling back, knocking the wind from his lungs; his saber ripped apart from him and chinked across the pebbles to the side. His sight gave way to flashing scenes of her, the roof, the sky, and all conjoined with equal blots of darkness like a bulb inside a pitch-black room that flickers on and off, disabling the eye from fully resting on the darkness or the light.

The pair of lightning bolts emitted from Rei Kiyoka's palms subsided in an instant and she paused, patiently observing as Fushimi landed with a crash against a metal unit sprouting from the roof.

Stupefied from head to foot and achy all around, Fushimi rolled into a kneel, head spinning, and witnessed Rei Kiyoka, her blurry form, releasing a small glittering object in the air. An instant passed and the flash drive clinked against his boot. He blinked, scowling at the drive, then flashed an angry glance at her. "The Algorithm," he wheezed. "It was never here." Reaching out a wobbly hand, he took it, tightening his grip. "Just an empty drive."

Kiyoka shrugged. "That's not entirely true," she said with aggravating coolness. "I mean, not unless you like kitten videos."

Fushimi glared at her. She merely smirked. "Don't get so worked up, Sashimi. The real algorithm's safe."

"Tch. 'Safe,'" he growled. "Don't make me laugh." Fuming, he tried to rise and fell against his knee, still reeling and suddenly nauseous. "So those tin nobodies?" He coughed, suppressing the urge to gag. "Were they part of your little act too? This 'game' you're insisting on playing?"

Kiyoka hummed in the affirmative. "Call it: 'festering belief.'" Rapier in hand, she turned her back to him and sighed her features to the sky. "Face it, Sash," she said, soothing her closed eyes against the breeze. "If I hadn't done exactly what I did, you wouldn't have come...and I needed you to come. What were a few deterrences if not to spur you on?"

“If, by 'deterrences' you mean 'giving cheap guns to morons.'"

Another hum hit the air. "Quite the morons since they obviously fooled you." She glanced around her shoulder, winking at him. "They helped bring you here, didn’t they?"

Another gust blew past her and she slowly turned to face it, breathing in the air with a long, contented blink as though in desperate need of it. "Besides, I knew their lack of auras would annoy you. You Blues have always been so noble when it comes to keeping ordinary humans nice and safe, even the bad ones."

Fushimi chuckled ruefully and stumbled to his feet. The ground seemed all at once precarious. "Yeah well, normally I wouldn't care," he answered, spotting his saber several feet away, "except I made a promise not to kill anyone — not civilians, anyway."

Kiyoka turned to look at him, for the first time drawn to what he said. "A promise, huh?" Then, as though it never happened, her unnerving smile returned. "I made one similar." slinkily, she took a step toward him and he tensed, shooting his saber an urgent glance. "I made a promise not to kill you," he heard her whisper dangerously close, a sibilating potency resounding in her voice. He flinched his stare back onto her: the black hole, the endless web of entanglement. No, he told himself, peering into cryptic pearl-green eyes. I won't fall for that.

"We're done here," he declared, and in one darting leap, he skid across the gravel, taking up his sword and posing it against her.

Kiyoka neither moved, nor cared enough to pay him any heed. Her sword did not ascend an inch above its resting pose; her aura wallowed gently at her knees. She simply stood, her features calm and placid as a doll's.

"No more games," he said deliberately, narrowing the gap between his sword-point and the edge of her lapel. "I know you're searching for technology that coincides with supernatural energy, and I know you need the Kawaguchi Algorithm to do it; but if that's not why you came, then why exactly are you here? And if not for yourself, then who are you working for?"

Triggered into coyness yet again, Kiyoka peered a knowing eye to him, raising slender fingers in the air while backing off a step. "You mean you don't believe I planned this just for you? After all the trouble I went through explaining it to you? Still, you're unconvinced?"

Fushimi narrowed in. "I said: 'No more games.' Tell me what you know!"

Kiyoka chuckled, inching further back. "Poor Sashimi," she said in babied tones. "I'm afraid we're all out of time."

"Don't!" He ordered, spotting her retreat.

"However," she went on, sliding back a pace, "I hope you don't mind — "

"Stop moving!"

" — I left you a small parting gift: just something to remember me by." She paused, shifting a transient glance to his chest and back.

Fushimi froze and darted his attention down the length of his uniform. Skimming over pockets, he produced a slender object and sighed, suddenly relieved. Not a bomb, he told himself, and peered back up to find Kiyoka standing at the building's edge, balancing on one heeled boot while giggling back at him.

"I said I wouldn't kill you," she laughed. "I wasn't lying about that. What use are you to me if I killed you? For starters, I’d be out a plaything; and besides, he’d not bet very happy with me either." She smiled, perhaps genuinely, for all that he could tell. "I hope you won’t forget that, Sashimi.”

He tightened up again, repulsed; then he comprehended and his lip meandered upward with the onrush of a thought. So you do work for someone, whoever this ‘He’ is.

“Oh, one more thing," she added, and another violent instant, he was reeling back a step, a ripping screech resounding in his ears.

By way of a second parting gift, Rei Kiyoka flicked a bolt of what was then an unmistakably black aura toward the rim of his glasses. Merely a spark sent out to pester him, Fushimi stumbled sideways, blinking over fuzzy pictures flashing in his eyes.

“Will you stop doing that!” He raged, swiveling back to face her general direction. He caught her eye, received a noticeably flirtatious wink, and watched in vain as she ascended from the ledge and leapt into the air. “Stop!” He called out after her. Bounding two unsteady paces to the ledge, he shot his gaze across the open spans below, but she was nowhere to be found.

“Damn it!” He yelled, partially to her and also to himself. He huffed a furious breath and gripped the concrete block, his anger oozing outward until one long breath, partnered with a heavy blink, commanded him to peace.

“Clever, I’ll give you that," he uttered low, “if not totally insane. But not clever enough.” Holding up his arm, he pressed a little button on his wrist device. A holographic screen appeared: a map of Shizume City; inside: a dot, red and blinking, roamed the digital streets.

The tracker he had painfully neared himself enough to sneak inside the hem of Kiyoka’s trench coat wouldn't last, but it would certainly give him some idea as to where she was headed, where her hideout was, and — if he was lucky — where the actual Kawaguchi Algorithm was and this ‘He’ she spoke of: her accomplice, perhaps.

He followed the dot as it drew further from the trade building, away from him. “This isn’t over,” he said. “You should know: we’re just getting started.” With this, his own game afoot, he grinned. Then, as though remembering a dream, he scowled, shifting his attention to the object in his hand. It was a vial of translucent liquid, it's swirling crystal flecks emitting their own sheen, as though the little vial bore a life-force all its own. He stared into it, baffled. He'd never seen anything like it before. Why? He brought himself to wonder. Why give me this?

In a rush, Fushimi traced his mind back over all her lies, her vile affronts, her mystic air: all-in-all, the lifeless life-form that was she, and wondered what her purpose was, why he seemed to matter in whatever twisted way she hinted at, a way too deeply hidden, a way he couldn’t fathom. Is it really that important? He asked himself, and all at once, he scoffed, brushing off the thought, angry, frowning, contemplating, wondering. He sighed long, gripping tightly to the vial as though seeking to distinguish, to cling to, perhaps to understand? No. To stifle some small, terrorizing remnant of her.

By then, the final rays of daylight had diminished, taken on by darkness and the brisk night air that blew against his face. Abstractedly, he glanced out at the place where she had been. “Rei Kiyoka,” he said to the wind, “Who are you?”

(Chapter I: Sashimi, pt. I // Chapter II: Game)

(K:Tales of Midnight is an Eso Niko Fan Fiction series based on the anime/manga series K, written by GoRa and produced by GoHands. All fan fiction works written by Eso Niko are categorized as ‘unofficial fan fiction,’ and are in no way affiliated to GoRa and GoHands.)

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chantalkrcmar · 5 years

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Lest I Led You To Believe Monsoon Is All Fun & Games...

So it turns out that yesterday’s extended downpour was just a small preview of what was to come today: mega monsoon! Non-stop downpour, lots of flooding, a paralyzed city…Yikes. It’s sort of the equivalent of a blizzard. That hits so fast and furious that everyone is caught on their back foot. Think: your car has no snow tires, there are no snow plows in your entire town, and the snow is accumulating at a rapid pace. Kinda fun, and kinda dangerous, and more than kinda worrisome…I got the fun part of wrestling with monsoon rains yesterday (despite Anamika’s mouthful of toxic water), but today Rahul got the considerably less fun part of monsoon.

Even though it had been raining very heavily since yesterday, and raining quite heavily (albeit more sporadically this past month) since late June, we certainly had no clue what potential dangers awaited. School was open, so what was the worry?!

Rahul and Anamika jumped in a rickshaw in the morning and headed to ASB. I stayed home and was preparing to go to Mumbai Mobile Creche in the south of Mumbai to do my first interview for my dissertation. I was watching the continuous downpour with some trepidation, but once I got a message from Rahul that he and Anamika made it to school damp but safe, I felt relieved.

The first hour of school was as usual. But then things started to fall apart pretty quickly. (In retrospect, ASB should have followed the lead of government schools which had all closed for the day.) The emails and the WhatsApp messages started flying at a rate unprecedented in the history of…well, the history of our time at ASB (granted, only a week and a half :-) ). First, we got messages that all after-school activities were canceled, then we got messages that Anamika’s class was coming back early from their field trip, then we got messages that school was having an early dismissal.

Rahul was working at the Parent Cafe at school so at least he and Anamika were in the same place. As soon as the early dismissal message came, I asked Riazbhai, my in-laws’ wonderful driver, to go pick up Rahul and Anamika. At that point, I was at least clued in enough to know that coming home from school in a rickshaw was a bad idea. But I did not yet know just how bad. And my father-in-law and our caretaker Ambubhai who have been living through monsoons forever seemed to think everyone was just fussing over nothing. What’s a little rain?! So Riazbhai set off.

And then the messages from school got more and more dire. School buses turning back due to road closures and flooding. 225 elementary school children stuck at school. And then the pictures and videos and news clips of all the flooded roads between our home and Anamika’s school started coming in. And countless panicked WhatsApp messages from the multiple WhatsApp parent groups I’m on. My father-in-law at one point called me to watch news footage on his huge TV of a young child and her mother wading through deep flood waters; he thought it would cheer me up to see that the child was not drowning! :-) At first, I tried to ignore it thinking that parents were being overly dramatic and that the school administration was being overly cautious (as they have to be). But then I found out that Riazbhai still had not reached school an hour and 15 minutes after he had set out (at that hour of day, it should have taken him a half hour). What had started out as zany and comical became serious quickly.

Riazbhai finally did make it to school and Rahul thought that he could figure out a way home on some alternate route on higher ground (“higher” being relative since Mumbai is a city at, and in some places below, sea-level). So they started driving. I was certainly worried but I thought the worst would be that the drive would take a long time. Well…a half mile from school, they got stuck. Not just a little wait-it-out-for-a-bit-and-then-we’ll-be-on-our-way stuck. But stuck. Totally and completely. Though our car had not stalled out, there were stalled cars in front of and behind our car, so they were trapped. And as they were waiting in the car, the flood waters were getting higher. They were not on a street that was flooded the worst (not by far) but Rahul did admit to me later that there were “some puddles” (which actually ended up being several inches of water) in the car. Everything I knew about Rahul, Riazbhai and Anamika’s situation was through sporadic, short messages from Rahul; he could not risk totally running out of battery power on his phone so updates were brief. And, of course, most of his attention was on navigating a potentially dangerous situation with our 3.5 year old in tow.

Rahul and I decided (all through our sporadic WhatsApp messages) that he should walk carrying Anamika on his shoulders through the flood waters back to school. They could not just stay in the car: the Arabian Sea was reaching high tide in a couple hours and then the flooding would just get much worse. The Arabian was pretty angry. And they clearly were not going to be able to drive anywhere soon. It was an utter downpour so despite her rain jacket and rain boots, I knew Anamika would get soaked, and I was afraid of them getting swept up by the flood waters. All the terrible images I had seen on the news had gotten to me. But attempting to get back to school was better than just sitting and waiting for something worse to happen as the flood waters rose.

As soon as they got to school, I knew that they’d be fine — dry clothes, fresh food, other kids there to play with, and lots of teachers and staff who stayed either because they wanted to help or because they, too, could not get home. I was just worried about them getting to school. I know Rahul is strong, and that parents find super-human strength when trying to protect their offspring, but walking through flood waters carrying your child is no easy feat. I was worried, indeed, but had the presence of mind to know that my anxiety was borne largely of my imagination. I would have been much less anxious if I was actually wading through the flood waters with them. Watching a potential train wreck from far away — and only having a vague sense of what exactly is going on, and not being able to do anything about it — is very nerve-wracking.

They were only a half mile from school — thank goodness! — but it took them a half hour to get there. It was the longest 30 minutes of my life. I developed a whopping headache from the tension. And then when Rahul messaged me that he and Anamika were safe at school, I cried out of relief. A little while later (again, felt like an eternity to me), I got to do a video call with Anamika and she was in good spirits telling me how she had changed into her cool new doggie shirt because her other clothes were drenched. She looked quite bedraggled herself, but her smile was radiant. If my head wasn’t hurting so much, I would have danced with joy.

Their odyssey started late morning and they did not get home till 8:30pm. Rahul and Riazbhai decided to wait it out at school for a long while since the flooding, and then the traffic, made travel impossible. The kids had a blast! Party at school! The teachers were amazing, setting up obstacle courses (Anamika’s teacher told me she was very impressed at how well Rahul refereed the course!), dance parties, and all sorts of activities to distract the children. Rahul told me that he was never super concerned about their safety. Regardless, he managed the situation really carefully. I was impressed by his calm under pressure. I guess growing up in Mumbai toughened him up to deal with out-of-control monsoons. He also told me that not once during the day did Anamika seem upset or scared — not even when she was getting drenched to the bone as he carried her through a flooded street in a downpour. In fact, she enjoyed her flood experience. This kid is designed to live in a place where nuttiness reigns supreme.

As I write this, I am cognizant of the fact that Mumbai is not the only place getting terribly flooded. I am thinking of my friends and family in the southern part of the US, in particular my Mom and brother Mark who live fairly close to the North Carolina coast. Stay safe! Dorian, please calm down. Florence did enough damage last year. Sending you lots of well wishes to make it through unscathed!!!

If you want to see some news clips of our floods:

https://www.indiatoday.in/india/story/mumbai-rains-ndrf-rescues-1300-people-1595421-2019-09-04

https://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/city/mumbai/lakhs-stranded-as-206mm-rain-in-6-hours-stops-trains-paralyses-mumbai/articleshow/70986222.cms

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