#zenkaimon

            ‘ IT’S MINE BY RIGHT ‘ weary, battered, tired from the heaviness within her bones she shows no hesitation unflinching as she is unyielding. Her small nose twitches, wrinkling as the pull of her scar enhances, the grasp upon the mantle refuses to relinquish. It’s weight should be enough to topple her, a corpse that was scattered, an effigy of a former deity now ravaged through the passage of time. Weaponry forged to pierce the highest summit && slay the Gods, she’s heard the story, thousands of times in hushed whispers && girlish laughs that proclaimed that was an old tale, no one believes in it any more.

              The fire dims, spewing the embers out && all that is left is the burnt carcass where the fragility of a perfect woman stood; she long died in that subway station. Enemy, advisory, friend, alliances, she did not care anymore as the annoying voice proclaimed; victor! 5 points to the Spider Queen. The lance smells like burnt sugar, lavender, sea salt upon the soft winds, she would not part with it, it was one of few possessions she would call her own. In an act of defiance, a cocky smirk, the stabbing methodical voice piercing deep in her coarse lilt as she taunts.

         “A TRAGEDY YOU WOULD COME TO ME SEEKING WARMTH” haphazard, she laughs, the bitter irony is etched in the visage that self immolation. Caches upon caches, the weaponry is what tethers them to the semblance that they still stand above all, she merely needed something to swing when her hands were too raw, bloodied. Player, she enters the arena without a care to be told, half suicidal, half seeking glory, wondering which side will devour the other as the blaring announcement joyously proclaims; Victor! Five points. She’s found somewhere to rest, somewhere to hide, what’s left of an old dance studio she presumes - dangerous as the corridors become a labyrinth.

   None have made the fatal mistake to enter, she wonders if it’s the surge of cursed energy output that brings a pressure threatening to collapse all or maybe it’s the way her venomous eyes now seem a shade darker. A void that cannot be filled, charred && spewing the ashes that still live within the crooks of her lungs. “Did you bleed out upon the snow as well? We’re rabbits, prey animals by nature, predators seek us out to consume without a care for our desires, pain, sorrow” for a moment, she pondered the possibility if she was still that benevolent thing, impossibly small that felt terrified of this life, no, her corpse was left in the wreckages of the subway station.

       “Can I even help a sorcerer of eld?” taunting, her tongue moves freely, trying to lighten the air between them though it fails. Haphazard furniture, odd bits, she thinks someone else once called this area their territory but whoever once ruled over it must be gone. A few personal trinkets set upon an old desk, the bronze mirror, broken glasses, a hair ribbon she no longer believes will coil into her fading ebony locks - white, like a collision of dying stars, Sayuri sees the ink fade. It’s strange to speak with this emerging sorrow that permeates deep within the marrow, the pleasantries of a mundane life, she eloquently masks the hurt that hurt.

      “There’s a kitchen somewhere, we can have breakfast or do you even eat anymore?” she was unsure, no time to ask those in the midst of slaughter, does the dead remember the simplicity of regular life? No, they would scoff, they were of another century that sought glory amidst the rampages && didn’t she understand? She would have been deemed holy amongst them, the Spider Queen in her horrific beauty. Movement becomes languid && drowsy, the injuries are still there, burns that still ache upon her limbs && lacerations she didn’t remember, threaded together like a patchwork doll. It causes her to slide down, allowing the hard wood to cradle her slender form.

      “Our blood is splattered onto the soil, perhaps, where our remains are left the ravaged bones that once kept us standing will blossom flowers for a kinder tomorrow”

              ( @zenkaimon ) ❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜ // jugram

         WOULD YOU LIKE TO KNOW WHO BORE ME TO THIS WORLD, ORACLE? The flame ignites within the venomous green of her eyes, illuminated by a pulse, an ember that wishes to entwine with that of conquest && demand that her fury be heard. Ire, thick, ravenous, like cherry syrup that could have stangled her if she willed it. “I want to know” she never asks, never questions, there is only a demand that comes from the huskiness of her voice, serpentine && crawling upon the ground, slithering in a mannerism that begs to strike. ( YOU ARE NOT ONE OF US! you are not born of the sea, who cannot be claimed by the creation && maker of that which weaves life; who are you?) Her heart pounds against the confines of her ribcage, calloused, marred hands that endure each trial && tribulation with utmost grace curl against the fabric of her billowing gown. She is a specter, a wraith that inherently haunts this strange && foreign land not of her own, as if to say one day, come future, come hell, she would end it or flee, lest the head of a rabbit be served amongst the wolves.

     “You, who imposes && wishes to gain access into my other half, we are one - not two entities that move. Our creation was to mimic the birth of the night && the day, you have yet to learn the truth of who is who” but, the Oracle would know, she would not be ignorant to believe he could not gauge who’s heart belonged to which. Eyes that were not the same, movements that were elegant but different in stance && the putrid hungry organ within their chest they called a heart, it could make the greatest zealot blush with their devotion. She was the sun, scorching in judgement && selfish light, demanding as she was cruel, her benevolence came short with a firm iron grasp && the knowledge that violence begets violence, only she could handle the weight it forced upon her nimble shoulders.

  “A boy so special must come from some origins, you are not made of nothing, nor a construct that comes from the air above. His Majesty walks with you by side, you say that neither are you favorited or a consort, but that must be a lie” Sayuri needn’t care if he deceived her, the idle words of those she found to bare little weight meant nothing to her, a scornful woman, a woman that was a wrathful goddess, she-wolf with her teeth on display. 

                  @zenkaimon❝ I’ll show you what it means to be spared. ❞ // jugram @ tsuyu :eyes:

             IS THAT WHAT YOU SEEK, ORACLE? TO BE SPARED AMONGST THE WRECKAGES? From above, he can hear the faint calling of birds && the smell of fresh water. Siren eyes, they dig deep within the shrouds of forest allowing the towering bastion of a faint glow to lead the path, brethren, yes, they would find just that. God cannot find them here, Tsukuyomi foolishly believes it to be, in the canopy of green leaves && the happiness that peppers the air a faint sigh of relief escapes the depths of his lungs. He is young still, though there is a rampant torrent within the swell of his chest, the same voice echoes; they have stolen from us, how can you love what threatens to break us? How can any creature of divinity spurn those who seek refuge or praise such a name? This is not love, it is fear. The people are kind, they grant gifts of succor for the long travels, polite boys, elegant boys, they smile if all but timid && questioning - he does nothing to disconcert them.

         “Go ahead before me, rest, I’ll get us something to eat && tend to the horses” he does not ask, it is a command within his gentle tone, a slight wave of the hand as digits sprawl. Anything to relieve the pressure, the weight of responsibility even when he understands it is futile. A bottle, it’s held close to his slender chest, coat but already discarded && the fabric of his scarf that hangs loosely. Flowers that were lightly scented sweeter than sugar, the maidens adore his inky locks && coo tenderly they’re like the night sky itself, silver, everything that ripples, was he from the eternity of darkness? No, because his depth was kind. His knuckles gently knock against the wooden door, bright && cheerful, a haphazard smile overtakes him, miraculously youthful, always delighted by the simplicity of anything tasty upon the tongue.

        “Cherry wine!” he chirps brightly, silver goblets, scratched but still sustainable, the cork is undone as he flops back against the bedding careful to not spill a drop. Still, he cannot shake the earlier words, that swarm within the confines of memory && mind alike. Spared, mercy, is it not all the same? It’s monotonous, even painfully dull to a creature like him. “Drink, enough with lectures, enough with duty, you will die on me if you’re not properly fed && for once the liquor doesn’t like vinegar” quiet that mind he wishes to utter, a tongue that is kept between sharp teeth.

    “Took   you   long   enough”   a   boastful   air,   one   of   pride   &&   bravado,   though   it’s   all   a   charade,   one   he   wears   elegantly   like   a   figure   in   the   midst   of   a   grand   production.   Long   slender   hands,   scarred   &&   calloused   from   the   arrow   that   shatters   the   skies.   They   reach   forward,   gently   beckoning   with   a   soft   tug,   “Do   you   even   remember   the   history   behind   your   birth   or   is   it   another   circumstance   that   yet   is   of   little   importance?”   soft   lips,   the   smell   of   lilac   &&   candied   petals,   the   benevolence   of   the   night   was   akin   to   being   engulfed   in   the   very   stars.   

        HE   NEEDS   NO   INTRODUCTION   OR   PERMISSION,   there,   in   molten   sugar   the   moon   casts   a   bright   shadow.   Venomous   green,   they   linger   for   a   moment   before   moving   closer,   too   close,   it’s   impolite   as   it   is   childish.   Celestial   children   did   not   understand   obedience,   they   merely   feigned   that   of   such,   fiercely   their   own,   fiercely   fated   to   fall.   “Why   am   I   being   confronted   for   both   of   our   absences?   Your   business   is   solely   yours   to   handle”   the   sneer   is   haughty,   ice   within   each   syllable   that   radiates,   he   doesn’t   bother   to   knock,   only   enters.   He   stands,   long   &&   feline-like,   misery   written   on   pale   features,   in   fighting   was   strictly   prohibited   yet,   a   defiant   child   would   not   listen,   he   only   howls.   “Look   at   me”   he   could   never   hold   a   torch   to   the   successor   of   them   both,   always   demanding,   even   when   his   spine   was   close   to   collapsing   from   cowardice.   

        「 兎 」    THE   AIR   IS   STAGNANT   &&   HEAVY,   her   limbs   ache   as   she   tuts   underneath   her   breath.   “This   body   is   troublesome,   don’t   purchase   shady   vessels   from   a   candy   shop”   laughter   emits   from   the   depths   of   her   being,   she   wants   to   scowl,   don’t   be   a   creep.   Compliments   that   came   with   ease   long   ago,   where   the   three   would   train   together   &&   the   swing   of   a   lance   agonized   for   them   to   move   faster,   think   quicker.   The   cool   bottle   drips   down   her   hands,   tattered   &&   calloused   from   the   arrow   that   strikes,   always   uttering   to   those   who   aspired   for   more;   aim   to   the   sun,   shatter   the   sky   itself.   

       “Thanks   for   the   support,   this   town   was   nearly   overrun   by   hollows   a   few   weeks   ago,   dumb   kid   really   thought   a   fight   with   a   shinigami   was   worth   it”   trivial   matters   that   meant   nothing,   she   knew   it   would   be   shrugged   off   by   him,   there,   the   wolf   continues   to   pursue   the   lupine   who   runs   with   all   her   might.   Why?   She   was   unsure,   the   blissful   state   of   slumber   that   granted   her   solace,   where   His   Majesty   could   not   reach   or   so   she   wanted   to   believe.   “You   are   right,   the   reishi   here   is   scarce,   thin,   in   Silbern   my   body   would   have   moved   quicker   to   react   -   somehow,   I   still   don’t   have   regrets   leading   this   life”   only   loneliness.   

     Pride   would   have   her   not   utter   it,   the   radiance   of   her   halo   tarnished   by   the   outcry   that   spoke   for   a   guardian   when   it   was   not   her   responsibility.   To   live,   to   die,   to   grow   as   one   where   the   realms   teeter   on   spilling   into   another   -   between   it   all,   this   purgatory   was   the   most   blissful   she   had   felt.   Her   heart   was   softer   than   before,   granting   succor   to   those   who   strayed   amidst   the   dark,   even   if   she   would   remain   nothing   more   than   an   entity   unknown.   The   petite   nurse,   the   Unbreakable,   the   Sun   who   once   sat   upon   the   throne   of   the   Heavens,   crowns   that   were   merely   just   that   -   tarnished   trinkets   she   needn’t   wear   anymore.   Freedom   that   was   within   her   grasp,   even   if   the   sacrifice   was   to   butcher   the   very   connections   they   had   held   at   a   tender   age.   Wayward   children,   desolate   &&   mourning   (   WHERE   YOUR   EYES   ALWAYS   SO   COLD?   )   she   couldn’t   remember.   Gingerly,   she   reaches   to   undo   the   leather   gloves   tossing   them   onto   the   earth,   a   quick   breath   escaping   the   confines   of   her   chest.   “How   about   it?”   the   sound   of   knuckles   cracking   &&   resolve   that   was   unyielding,   the   cocky   grin   on   her   small   rose   pout,   for   old   time   sake.   

      THE    MONOTONY    IS    ODDLY    SOOTHING,    a    hundred    years    come    &&    go,    he    remains    the    same    as    ever.    Pragmatic,    constantly    toying    with    the    next    invention    even    at    the    cost    of    those    around    him,    never    dulling,    never    with    a    care.    Well,    long    gone    are    the    halcyon    days    where    the    sleepy    town    kept    itself    in    limbo,    prison    he    once    thought,    home    now    it    becomes.    Inventory    slots    with    one    yen    confections,    tin    cans    that    rattle    with    trinkets    &&    oddities    for    the    dead,    does    this    Shoten    ever    gain    traction?    Yes,    he    likes    to    boast,    customers    are    willing    to    endure    the    eccentric    nature    that    teeters    on    madness    &&    brilliance    -    a    long    life    will    certainly    cause    a    collapse.    Sweet    tobacco,    blossoming    in    the    dimness,    the    lights    rattle    &&    the    sound    of    geta    sandals    clacknig    echo    as    they    descend    downwards.    “You    woke    up, @zenkaimon”    of    course,    solitary    confinement    shackled    to    one’s    enemy    would    certainly    put    an    interesting    spin    on    things.    A    paltry    meal,    prepped    by    his    own    hands,    though    he    doubts    it    will    be    indulged.