#viscaera

➥ [  .⠀.⠀.  ] ❛ I warned you that would happen if you did that ❜ , @viscaera stated.

Disregard could quickly and irrevocably morph into regret — a bitter realization that Sayuri, in all her presumptuous grace, was forced to confront now, with a sickening lurch in her gut. There, amidst the boundless, untamed greenery born of flora’s free reign, subjected to the guileless insectoid eyes of countless unseen critters, her ever-defiant self was tested; challenged, even, by the sudden, looming insight that to have listened would have been the infinitely better choice. 

Intimately familiar with the sharp edges of urban cruelty and the unforgiving harshness that clung to every shadow of the concrete jungle she called home, Sayuri considered herself above such rural simplicity. What true torment, she had reasoned, could possibly linger in the inconspicuous simplicity of untamed nature and verdant greenery? What abyssal horror, what immeasurable terror, would satisfy itself with a home so... primitive, so devoid of all the richness the world had to offer?  

She had no name for it, clearly — if she did, her features wouldn’t be painted in such prominent, deathly pallor, and her eyes wouldn’t have widened in such thorough desperation. Someone... something... between the densely packed trees — grotesquely huge, wrong-shaped, humming with that guttural, bone-deep vibration, a sound that screamed to every attuned soul that it was not alive in any normal sense. Lifeless, hollow eyes, eerie caricatures of their human counterparts, boring into hers and leaving behind a cold, clammy trail of sweat that coated her spine as their gaze seemed to go deeper, further, into cavernous nullity. 

Don’t look at them. If you look at them, they look back. ‘Hikaru’s’ words, at that time dismissed with a scoff and a roll of her eyes, were nothing more than a faint echo in her head now; with them, a single, desolate thought resonated within. Perhaps, this one time, she truly should have listened.  

(ic or ooc u decide…)

The press of teeth into the yielding softness of his bared skin ignited an immediate, almost electrical jolt of pain; a prickle of discomfort, sharpened by the unexpected suddenness of the sensation. An intrusion upon the silent storm reigning within the deepest recesses of his mind, Yoshiki’s reaction was one of profound surprise, like someone startled awake by such unprompted and carnal proximity; his eyes widened, gray-hued mirrors of his astonishment as his head turned, slowly, to find ‘Hikaru’s oddly content expression.   ❛   Huh?   ❜   A breathy exhalation laced with confusion, his initial reaction remained at that single syllable. 

Looking into his eyes still sent a wave of raw emotion through Yoshiki, a tidal wave so uncontainable it threatened time and time again to swallow him whole. Each time, it felt like drowning. Unease, grief, longing     —     and above all, the heart-twisting, gut-wrenching realization that came with the flood of casting a gaze at something so familiar and foreign at the same time. Moments like these amplified the initial wave of unease that Yoshiki couldn’t quite shake     —     moments when raw human instinct flared louder than the emotions that held his heart captive, louder than the desperate devotion that bound him to this impossible figure and plunged him into this irrational madness. 

Yet, as soon as that terrifying surge had come, it ebbed down again. Yoshiki’s shoulders loosened as they let go of a tension he hadn’t even noticed was there until it faded and made him feel strangely pliant, willing to give in to the strange, guilty comfort that crept into his mind: a whispered justification. ‘Right... I did the same thing once     —     it’s only fair’. He still held it close, the shame that had made a home, buried deep, inside his chest whenever he thought of the physical harm once inflicted to his gone-wrong best friend; finding himself in this situation now, on the receiving end, it almost felt like a twisted consolation. Admittedly, he wasn’t quite sure if ‘Hikaru’ thought in such terms to begin with     —     of keeping score, of reciprocal actions, of human fairness; yet, he couldn’t dwell on such unsettling doubts. Not now. Not here, with ‘Hikaru’s unblinking gaze fixed on him.  

➥ [  .⠀.⠀.  ] ❛ You’re done here ❜ , @viscaera declared.

❛ No-uh. ❜ Two syllables, drawn out into a singsong lilt, formed an expression of brazen flippancy while wrapped in a lightness that seemed obscene in the face of the seriousness of the situation. They were paired with the taunting sway of her index finger; first left... then right... the motion lingered, mocking, provocative right in front of ‘his’ eyes — a metronome of audacity. ❛ I’m not done at all. You, on the other hand... ❜

Her finger halted, then; not with an abrupt stop, but a calculated pause, right there at the fine line that separated respectful distance from the brash invasion of privacy. The remaining distance brimmed with the tense energy of a gloomy bridge not yet crossed, a space charged with the promise of trespass, leading into foreign terrain; to cross it would be an act of recklessness so audacious it held no place in the delicate balance of decency and common sense. Sayuri, however, was far from reasonable; she crossed it anyway. 

The touch was brief, fleeting — a subtle tap of her fingertip, almost feather-light, against the very tip of ‘his’ nose; a ghost of contact, similar to the casual, belittling way someone would mock a disobedient child. Her words further fueled the impression of her sheer, contemptuous lack of seriousness. ❛ ...need to calm down. Who cares about another missing person? I was in the mood. ❜

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗     જ⁀➴        UNPROMPTED         𝒇𝒕.        beloved  @viscaera

Though we both knew my innocence to be nothing more than a farce, I played my part with remarkable consistency;      the pretense still lingered in the lilt of my voice even now that it was just the two of us, eye to eye in our shared peculiarity.      Here, the ever-present stench of humanity persisted only as a fading nuisance, its existence long ingrained in the plain, lifeless interior of Kibogayama High.  

❝   Hm?      Is there a problem?   ❞      Oblivion softened my features as I devoted myself to the role of a gullible schoolgirl, complete with the uniform adorning my frame and the clueless flutter of my lashes as my lips prepared to weave yet another lie.      ❝   Yoshiki couldn’t make it.   ❞      

Misinformation remained one of deception’s oldest tricks, and the other boy had been all too quick to believe me when I claimed his monstrous friend had answered the final bell by hurrying back to the home he wrongfully called his own;      back into the welcoming arms of a family blissfully unaware of the parasitic cuckoo nesting in their midst.  

While I was certainly no expert on social cues or the delicate nuances that shaped interpersonal relationships, even my unversed eye could tell that recent events had placed a temporary strain on the questionable bond between my kindred anomaly and his terrifyingly ordinary friend;      a welcome disagreeability that I, impatiently awaiting it, was more than eager to exploit. 

❝   I suppose he didn’t seem particularly eager to talk to you,   ❞      I mused, each syllable another silken thread in this intricate little web I spun.      Much like a black widow circling her prey, my every step was feather-light against the silence that blanketed the room as I waited for the first sign that my efforts had borne fruit.      ❝   Humans are such fickle beings.   ❞      

At last I stopped, halting just before him;      gracious enough to offer ‘Hikaru’ a smile to complete my poisonous lure.      ❝   But don’t worry...   ❞      

❝   I’m here for you.   ❞      

˚₊·゜・．     ⚘        IF  I  AM  LOST,  FIND  ME        &        beloved  @viscaera

Melancholia, already as familiar to me as the sight of my own pallor-touched hands, clouded my gaze as it traced the sun-bleached outline of each pebble exposed to the unforgiving swelter of this summer.     Not so long ago, I remembered, this creek had run with the clearest of waters; it must have been a mere two summers ago that Hikaru, exuberant despite his incessant complaints about the heat, had insisted we stop here after school to cool our aching feet in its refreshing waters. 

How much had changed since those days of innocence remained a gnawing ache buried within the depths of my mind.     No matter how desperately I tried to smother those whispers of awareness, they only clawed their way back into my consciousness with greater cruelty.     They lingered in the way I found myself reflected in the pitiful sight before me     —     of something alive, just barely, yet destined to wither.     Truth be told, the brittle grass needling into my palms as I lowered myself onto it was less a physical inconvenience than a bitter reminder.     Misshapen.     Out of place.     Wasn’t that what described me, too? 

Before thoughts of transience could fester further within my troubled mind, my eyes tore themselves away from the hollow creek in search of my own personal sun.     Once the only light that had ever managed to lend me shelter in this suffocating village, I found myself wondering where the line was drawn between something that invigorated and something that consumed. 

﹙ 𖦹 ﹚ @viscaera says " you have no idea, do you ? " ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼ 'hikaru' ⥂ mira . ᶠʳᵒᵐ , prompt .

ʚïɞ      . . .      @viscaera  tapped  the  heart  for  a  starter  !

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍’𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐒. Murmurs of eyes unseen yet cruel, of a divinity ever-thirsting for offerings in its centuries-long greed, haunted the town nestled in its shadow: a terror instilled that rivaled the havoc left in an Upper Moon’s wake, though the scars inflicted were of a less physical nature. 

Tears torn into the land, unlike those of skin, prove far harder to mend     —     hands that had tended countless gashes flailed helplessly against the ancient force cloaking these woods, an imprint too deep to be washed away, even by heaven’s steady downpour. Earth stirred with the droplets, its scent mingling with the cruelly familiar tang of iron     —     the faint breath of death that trailed a Slayer’s path. Shinobu needn’t set her eyes, amethysts gleaming in the moon’s pale light, upon the boy to know she was too late; had seen the morbid stillness of a mangled body times enough to recognize the signs from afar. 

it was the cats that broke the silence first. a clatter, a shuffle of paws, the faint rasp of eager mews. DAE GLANCED SIDEWAYS, EXPECTING RATS OR SCRAPS OF REFUSE, ONLY TO SEE A BOY APPEAR WITH A SMALL PAPER BAG IN HAND. the strays — half-wild, half-domestic, liminal creatures in their own right — swarmed him with the kind of recognition that could not be bought. he knelt among them, scattering food with a reverence that startled dae. the painter’s hand stilled midair. HE HAD ALWAYS BELIEVED THERE WAS A CERTAIN KIND OF PERSON ANIMALS TRUSTED IMMEDIATELY: children, saints, fools, creatures made of longing. perhaps the boy was all four.

for a moment, dae only watched. the golden spill of streetlight over the boy’s hair, the way his hands trembled with eagerness rather than fear. IT WAS INTRUSIVE, THIS BRIGHTNESS. TOO ALIVE FOR A FORGOTTEN CORNER OF TOWN. yet instead of withdrawing, dae felt a curious pull, the same way one feels pulled to a flame even knowing it will burn. the brush lowered. his voice, when it came, was soft, threaded with a quiet surprise he did not care to hide. “     you’ve made friends here,     ” he said, the faintest curve of a smile tugging at his mouth. HIS GAZE FLICKED TO THE CATS CURLING AROUND THE BOY’S LEGS, THEN RETURNED TO THE PAINTING— HALF-FINISHED SKY, WIDE AND EMPTY. “ do they let you stay because you feed them, or because they know you belong?     ” he had not meant to speak so much, but the question lingered between them, genuine, as if the answer might reveal more than either of them were ready for. / @viscaera, a plotted starter » 「 ☆ 」 !