fly, little hero. protect your beloved.

@lovemoir· ♡’d for a starter

“W-Wait, stay still. I’ve got you.” A barely suppressed puff of laughter passes her lips when she hears the noise the other girl makes; the sight of snagged scarf that is the cause of her fuss. Can she even see with it in her face like that…? All the more reason Sara should probably help instead of staring, a quiet murmur of hold on as she reaches over to free said cloth from the offending greenery that it’d latched onto.

       oh, how embarrassing ! she’s not used to wearing such a long scarf anymore, but she figured it was in her apartment for a reason so she took to wearing it ! but to think ayano would be bested by a mere piece of clothing ! thank god none of her siblings nor friends were around to see it. ❝ uuu... ❞ once freed, ayano lets out the quietest of whimpers, looking very much so like the quick to tears girl she had been in her youth. however, instead of crying, she grasps sara’s hands, the troubled expression becoming one of gratitude. 

it’s awfully embarrassing, to get coddled like this by someone far younger than him. he appreciates the sentiment, because it’s… true that adjusting to this new world has been overwhelming; less about the unknowns of the world and moreso of the fact that he has forgotten what it was like to be alone and defenseless like this.

nonetheless, he doesn’t need to burden the young girl like this, so he has frumpkin purring and curling into her arms affectionately and takes a small bite of the waffle. a little too sweet for his taste. “ah, um… thank you. i’m a little better now, i… i think.” caleb fiddles with the edges of his scarf. “you are not from here, though, are you? like the many others. it seems we’re all in the same… predicament.”

       in truth, she hadn’t expected a conversation with the man. she’s been alone for so long, a part of her has become strangely at peace with silence. for a girl so kind, words don’t come as quickly as she’d like, but she’s always content with mere companionship. had caleb simply munched upon the snack while she pet his cat, ayano wouldn’t have minded in the slightest ( though it’s clear caleb has other plans — perhaps the age difference makes him want to fill the awkwardness ). she smiles sheepishly, feet crossing at her ankles, the nod coming before her reply. 

  “ there is nothing wrong with having a non-offensive power, ” bruno answers, one hand in his pocket while the other lingers at his side. there’s no such thing as a solo fight if you have people around you physically or in some other form. “ your ability is similar to one of my subordinate’s and, from all i have seen from him, it’s incredibly valuable. ”

  bruno isn’t exactly one on the offensive side either. in fact, he’ll demonstrate it here and now. a hum and he walks over to a nearby table. a hand presses close to the edge and, with sticky fingers appearing, a zipper forms across a small length. he pulls, dropping the separated part onto the ground before looking back to ayano. “ would you initially believe a power like this would be useful in a fight? ”

       she seems flattered he thinks so ! perhaps it’s because when she thinks of fighting, it’s always action and fists flying and kicks and — er. well, someone reads too much shounen. ayano offers bruno a smile, one of gratitude but then he uses his skill and... where has she seen this before ? stunned into silence, she’s quickly hit with the fact that she had been staring and the dumbfounded expression is quickly replaced by one of flustered apology. 

       she smiles in gratitude; it’s a tiny little thing, one of shyness because the childlike wonder in her gaze must have sparkled so clearly ( she’s lived a life so strange and complicated, but materializing cats ? that ! that was new and welcomed ). and yet, while she had asked to pet frumpkin, she simply allows the feline to rest in her hold, content with allowing him to sniff at her fingers. while the delight of holding a cat warms her, the confusion the elder bears doesn’t escape her. ❝ sweets, they... ❞ ayano laughs, embarrassed ( did he not like waffles ? should she have gone with pancakes ? ). 

hello party people! i’m reina (she/her) i like to chill and vibe; talk to me whenever! i much prefer plotting over discord so feel free to ask for mine! (also here’s my twitter where i currently just talk abt ffxiv and tma)

and now abt ur resident ex-hero in red miss ayano from the series kagerou project! ♡ (note: timelines exist in the series so she’s been thru a ride)

has snake eyes. but like. only sometimes. they glow red when she uses her ~*~snake power~*~ that lets her share her thoughts + memories w/ others

looks 16 is actually 18 (was stuck in world where time didn’t move which is a story in itself). being in a totally new place has her like aw man here we go again

kind and patient, she isn’t good at giving advice but is a good listener :)

part of a rag tag group called the mekakushi dan (blindfold gang). they’re a group that all have snake eyes! they’re her family and she misses them.

trying to break the habit of keeping things to herself. it’s a work in progress.

sometimes has this far away look but it’s what happens when you have bits and pieces of memories from other timelines it makes u a Hag

      every step he takes is unnecessarily arrogant, &&. unnecessarily calculated; he sees this as nothing more than a game. this bold nature of hers – all he can look upon it with is disgust &&. amusement of the freshest variety. she’s a weary soul, isn’t she? so burdened by not only with the memories of his former master ( &&. oh, how vile they were. but is nothing less expected from the being who had began the first step in this pitiful tragedy ), but countless times where she had experienced death &&. the countless losses of those dearest to her, hopeless to stop it. her despair, her exasperation – that glare. it’s food for the soul; a hearty meal consisting of other’s suffering, &&. how he so rejoiced in it. 

     ( he wonders: does she believe this is bravery? staring at him with such a burning gaze, with her fists clenched so tightly in vitriol? does she believe this will oppose him? )

     ❝  cutting my monologue so short, favoring eyes? how cruel of you.  ❞

     ( as if that would change anything – even if he never planned to say such things from the start. but the thought is funny, isn’t it? )

     footsteps soon die as he stops in his tracks; red, for once, fails to coat the hands of the serpent before her, yet they hang so free of care. as if there had been no scent of death forever etched into his soul, no screams buzzing in his ears. in it’s own right, the rows &&. rows of whitened flowers would be stained with crimson for every step that he takes; his presence should contaminate these symbols of loss &&. heartbreak &&. unexpressed words that a cowardly heart could never reach out. petals should wilt, be torn apart, die under the touch of so much his skin – but alas, such is not the case. that does not mean he doesn’t hesitate from doing so with his boot, however – the final step crushing a dandelion under the surface &&. digging it into this endless’ word’s very foundation, forcing it back from once where it was created. 

    here stand the hero &&. the villain – but is it a stalemate? time would only tell, but there was more than enough of it here to decide. never-ending was the haze, after all, &&. never-ending was clearing’s blatant distaste for that eye ability of hers. his gaze is quick as it hones in on the subtle movements against her cheekbones, &&. serpentine pupils narrow into threatening slits.

                                 ( disgusting. )

    ❝  but i digress; such a display of recklessly bold behavior can only come from an ability that proves to be just as vexing.  tell me — are you proud of it? or do you regard it with regret?                in a loop as worthless as this, i can only begin to imagine what must be going through that empty head of yours.   ❞

       just the very presence of the serpent brings a look of disdain upon the brunette’s features. she watches him with little movement of her own, gaze only falling to watch the dandelion under his heel be crushed to a pulp of nothing more than simple reminder of what had been. but that’s just his specialty, isn’t it? ruining and ruining, leaving only memories one could only hope to live to continue remembering. that simple display of power... was he telling her to know her place? was he flaunting the actions of one whom wins a game over and over again... of how victors are the ones that can continue forward, no matter the ruins in their wake?

    although they are alone and he has nothing to gain from his taunts, the serpent approaches her as if hunter and prey. somewhere, in that empty husk of hers, she finds it almost laughable how much this creature from hell desires to display power. time and time again, he does it without fail. is it in his very nature to attempt at playing superior? ( just as it is in her nature to love despite the losses? ) there is no one to witness this display than she herself and the snake she bears within her. does he wish to engrave his arrogance in every crevice of her memory? was it to strike fear, even in the her of another time? 

                                           how silly. 

    he should know better than anyone just how cowardly the hero that stands before him is. she has no comrades to call her own, no one to cry to for help. ayano, clad in the red of the heat, the snake, the suffocating muffler and her own blood... the ayano of the here and now is but a shell of one whom believed perseverance would be key to everything. this supposed hero stands on her last legs, acknowledging but never accepting her failures. 

    by all means, call this girl pathetic. 

    she lays in the tatters of her own torn innocence, pieces she stole from others mixing together forming an ugly black. what he may call bravery is nothing more than resignation. waiting is all she’s done and waiting is all she can do now, in hopes for a better tomorrow. she can’t urge time to reset, after all. an idle hero is all she’s ever, pathetically been.

    his hissing words unfortunately refuse to fall on deaf ears, crimson irises that had trailed to the ruined dandelion slowly meet his own pair of threatening red. there is silence for a beat more, and then she breathes a heavy sigh, fingertips falling from her cheek to her side. 

                                                                       ( how irritating. )

    ❝ i guess people like you enjoy hearing themselves talk, don’t they? what is it that you want to hear from me? of how horrible azami’s memories are? do you want to hear me cry and listen to my pleas for this all to end? ❞ oh, if only he had come for his friendly visit hours ago. but, ah, how could she know time when time stands still here?