bloodiedwhips-blog

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(x)Annie Leonhardt

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~raises a brow~

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He's never been a stickler for time, but he ponders on her offer. Head titling, eyes focused on the colorful swirls of time within the horizon - reds and melting orange. He sucks in his jaws, contemplative and somewhat wary. Sooner or later, he'd need a solution to this little conundrum.

Perhaps he should be more mindful when visiting the land of the dead. A careless smile trapped among the clouds only travels with capricious feet.

"Lead the way, Selphie," He gestures forward with hidden reluctance. There's a slight fear he'd be here longer than he anticipates - and he'd feel a thousand years terrible. 

Independence is innate, but only a fool would turn down a push in the right direction. 

  It would’ve been rather simple to predict that answer, but it never hurt to be sure. The fact that the island was a foreign one merely meant she would handle any explanations a bit differently than normal.

Kurama. It’s a name that hasn’t ever graced her ears until this moment, a unique one just like hers.

She countered with a smile of her own, losing none of her warmth. “Pleased to meet you, Kurama."

With a slight shake of her head, she motioned back in the direction she’d come from. “No more than a few minutes of walking," she replied, tilting her head to consider offering. “Do you want me to take you there?"

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warmheartedsnow liked your photo

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~blinking at the dash~

Ok so I'm going to stop hiding on my other account and do my replies here. Hur Dur ANYBODY UP FOR A CASUAL! TWERK IT UP IN MY ASK OR TAG THE FUQ OUT MAH URL!!

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"Hm..." The whimsical retort inspires curious blinks. Of his tilting head, forelocks slip from the fluid dips of his shoulders. He politely glowers, fox like with a slick simper. 

"Of course - this little endeavor of yours," He lifts a gesturing hand, eyes teetering sideways. His grin elated and brows aloft in the fire of red ends. 

"Your unsought but respected remark," Drawn breaths escape an amused suspire. Flexed hand risen with a playfully demure shrug, "Random."

Nevertheless, he is delighted that anyone would take the time to acknowledge his absent minded quips.

"Do you not agree?" Hopefully he is not too offended by his self indulgent jest. He meant all well and genuine. His grin happily bright.

  "And what - may I ask - has made this eve so very random anyway?" A perceptive ear catches on to a murmured vision like a fox adhering to the scuttle and workings of a rodent below the umbrageous floors of a hidden grove. A frosted gaze is drawn up and catches the sight of fire’s heart when crowns donned in similar shades are both placed in this picture and he can’t help but pivot to grace the other with the entirety of his grandiose form, crimson mantle quivering gaily with this gesture. 

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~ear twitch~

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A persnickety little wench - lips twitch with ascending ears. 

"Indeed. I know naught of your crown," He drawls, back straightening as he folds arms, "But it's very essence, I can assure you, is worthless."

A laugh filled with cruel passion leaves him, the curves of his collar bone lifts and recedes erratically. 

"Alas there is hope for you," He runs scarred knuckles along his chin, upper lip curling, "Some poor bastard will make good use of your head."

Hand placed at the length of his neck, his claws trace her demise - nail raking at his Adam's apple, muscles flexed.

  [This place has no name, to her specifically; the origins of this area are a foreign mystery to the woman enveloped in metal. People would often stare, that is not a perception that is uncommon, frankly because a feminine identity is not a common one to be seen out of an era of dungeons and dragons. ]

[  “Tch,” Frustration is a common cause to drive the scarlet entity mad. Mostly when none offered her victories but instead poked at the irritancies welding within a pestered temperament. All she wants is to reach home and here we have someone with comments concerning her title to a throne. ]

[  “And just what do you know about my crown.” Does he know her by the title Titania? A label given to her by someone unknown. Hm, that may just be it. ]

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Puckered lips, he breathes swirls of vapor. The wind biting the heat of his cheeks, flakes captured at the tip of his lashes. The streets are slick with ice and forlorn - there's always an ominous presence upon the after math of snow. It melts, ferrying the deadness of winter. Spring nigh on the ends of it's receding wave.

Spring promises new beginnings - and it's scary in a silly sense. 

Superstition is real and anything that promises change (newness) warrants suspicion. 

And though his stroll idle and he can walk this very street blind folded, there's always this need to scan all the sharp edges - and this constant wariness of the shadows. 

For as long as he lives, he will never be able to shake the odd sensation of phantom glares pricking the back of his neck. 

Its behooving to call forth wandering entity - but the legend of women that fade within the ice inspires his rare skepticism of conversation.

bloodiedwhips started following you

Oh, a yokai was nearby. The snow spirit could sense it and frowned lightly. More then likely just a passerby, no need to worry. She honestly hoped it was the case, she didn’t want anything hostile going on. Still, it peeked her interest, yokai tended to stay away from yuki onna territory. Why was this one here?

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"..."

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owe: warmheartsnow & scarlet-knight

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~hisses at~

  Molests tail too.