#bloodxbrothers
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@bloodxbrother has requested a story : With naivety of a fawn, Chōsō picked up a pine needle, a fungus of some sort, and a pinecone — then proceeded to take a bite of each. Expression grew more disgruntled with every experimental bite.
𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.
Never afore had the Immaculate taken upon itself offspring ( strays , many wayward souls beseeching guidance & solace , certainly , but never this — ) . Unlike the nature of most things heeding the instinct to n u r t u r e , curses boasted no such drive whatsoever. Kaëltyr , too , never truly felt such a call towards children ( though children were drawn towards it , were baptized under its name & within its grace ) . Yet , inexplicably , it felt for the first time something akin to a parental desire ; this not-child , this not-boy , effectively deemed ITS OWN by consequence of single encounter ( & one not so a coincidence , as fate presides with purpose ) . It startles itself , in truth , to realize that it has placed itself ( entitled itself ) to the role of guardianship for ONE SOUL , wherein all others seem to have faded to obscurity by comparison. It wonders : Does that make a Mother of me after all ?
Thus has been found that , although Choso is quiet and tempered , it is never a dull moment when raising a youngling. Watchful creature , Kaëltyr keeps a m i n d f u l eye upon Choso's ventures day in and day out. And though the everlasting beast could very well sit him upon its knee and TELL him of the ways , wiles and whims which become the world , the Immaculate fully believed that the world itself served as better tutor ; EXPERIENCE would more ably provide the knowledge Choso might seek than any extensive lecture ever could.
Today , a most valuable lesson in edibility.
Kaëltyr observes less with worry and more with a hapless bemusement , taking in the scene of the lad plucking up various pieces of the forest and proceeding to take a mouthful of each ( none of which excessively toxic , though none very appetizing if uncooked , either ) . After crunching into a pinecone , discovering defeatedly that , this too , is not so good , the beast at last takes to motion , stopping him from approaching some loam growing on the shadowed side of a tree and instead gathering him in the crux of a large arm , curling him close to breast. ❝ Aht , aht , I think you’ve had enough , aye ? You’ll start ta’ spoil your wee stomach goin’ on like this. ❞ Another hand raises , large claws gingerly sweeping through his hair , crooking affectionately along the curve of his face. ❝ Would y’like ta’ try somethin’ proper ? I’m sure the mulberries’re in season ‘round here. Would wager y’might enjoy ‘em far better than pickin’ scraps from the ground. ❞
#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | answered ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#bloodxbrother
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❛ . . . Tell me about him — Noritoshi Kamo. ❜ A sore spot; merely speaking the monster's name brought forth a scowl. ❛ Your connection to him. He always spoke of you with tremendous and almost intimate detail. Was it truly him or that body he inhabited from which he inherited such knowledge? ❜
Satoru didn't feel much for the death painting before him, and definitely cared very little about the creature that he spoke of. His mind couldn't help but connect his presence with the topic to that moment barely three weeks back when he'd been defeated so thoroughly.
"I don't know anything about that creep," he waved a hand carelessly as if dispersing away the flash of irritation and shame. He'd not even heard the name Kenjaku until after he'd returned to the school fresh from a declaration of war, frustration brewing in his chest over his inability to put Suguru's body to rest.
"I think it has all the memories of the body....of Suguru Geto." His heart grew icy at the thought that had haunted him in those lonely maddening days locked away; of all the time and feelings that had belonged to only him and his best friend, that had been violated so thoroughly. Suguru had known Satoru to his very core once, understood him at a level that made him feel real; and the knowledge that the creature held the same intimacy made his guts twist with disgust.
He wondered just how much this man had been told of the events a Christmas eve ago, and even further back beyond that.
"We trained together when we were kids, went to the same school. It got real lucky with that treasure trove of info on me, huh?"
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Privy to most and many things in the world as it is – the turning of seasons , the most minute shift in the way of Man to name some few – Kaëltyr is very much a w a r e that the boy has been stricken by an ILL HUMOR , though the great beast does not much understand the r e a s o n ( could it have been own demand for demonstration ? own curiosity of his ability ? such the case , it was not as if it meant it at all in offense — not that it much mattered now ) . And it is the negativity which f e e d s , which f e s t e r s a curse ( an entity of legend ) far beyond the limits of any being in this lifetime ; a taste , a sense , as if drawn blood from the flesh of an unwitting morsel which so opens as a WOUND between them freshly rife with malignance and contempt ( flesh of a child , yes , but all the hostility of a grown beast — perfect ) .
It does not think to interrupt the display , nor does it react. The Wisps , startled as most rudimentary spirits might be from the aggression , whirl and vanish in a churn of flickering light , effectively – and perhaps rightly – chased off ( not that they , either , meant any ill intent ) . Kaëltyr raises a hand , grazing long claws against fine curve of soft cheek ; no real cut , but the stinging simmer of remnant e n e r g y is present , a flesh-prickling r e s i d u e left behind where striking blood thought it wise to just barely graze beyond its visage in what could only have been a DEFENSIVE MEASURE . Or , to a God … A try for insolence , an act of HERESY against the body of a blessed beast. Techniques , when used , are concentrated and often bolstered by WILL & INTENTION . His was clear : to make a point , to demonstrate his distrust. ❝ Hm … ❞ Contemplating , considering , ignoring the small , indolent creature wriggling in its lap for the time being as it weighs what it now knows.
This child – no , NOT A CHILD , a MADE-MONGREL ( a forgery , a counterfeit , a defilement of an already-being ) – is doomed to an accursed existence ; there is nothing to be done for it.
❝ … Aye , well done , well done , ❞ Praise given , though muddled by the way it grasps the boy by the scruff of his collar , hoisting him up and depositing him ( disposing him , rather ) back into the rain an arms-length away , letting him p l o p downwards a foot or two from its hold , ��� Y’might wanna find shelter. I can smell it in the air , the storm’s likely t’get worse overnight. It won’t be favorable t’a wee thing like you. ❞ The great beast waits for no answer and instead rises , changes , bones and body TWISTING & TRANSFIGURING as it assumes a stag-like shape to travel. Antlered head turns over its withers to look at him in the mud and loam , ear flicking. It doesn’t ask , necessarily , but the offer is plainly there : I can take you , I can help you. Free will , however , is altogether Man’s own ; it is Choso’s choice to make and not one Kaëltyr shall decide for him ( even if it should like to ) .
It he a creation did not know what to expect when he revealed his blood manipulation ability. A family trait unique to the Kamos. Although the abomination knew he was not normal, he knew not of the unique and hereditary nature of his abilities, nor how keenly he would capture the creature's attention. He, a newborn creature, escaped because the laboratory which was his home and place of creation held oppression and a malicious man that cared too greatly on potential. Chōsō did not appreciate when anything . . anyone placed too much attention on what he could do over who he was. The mind of the child he dominated without choice was alive and currently warned him that monsters should be feared for a reason.
The incessant buzzing of the creatures in the air around them which had already been odd quickly became an annoyance. Dark eyes of the hybrid narrowed to near slits and though fire was not within the realm of his abilities, there was in fact a fire being stoked in his gaze. He is silent. A ball of raised quills. He would appear adorable had it not been for the curling smoke of scarlet cursed energy. After prolonged time with no movement and no speech, where rich crimson spilled down his pale digit, the little Chōsō jerked his hand away — at least an attempt was made. Blood defied the pull of gravity with the use of Slicing Exorcism.
The child half-curse gathered his blood and his cursed energy to shoot blood in various directions. There were other extension techniques with more speed and strength, yet to the untrained eye, it moved faster than any living non-sorcerer creature in nature. It appeared sporadic and random, but Chōsō aimed true. A shot of blood just barely avoided the large creature's cheek, stirring hairs and causing the wind to whirl, before ultimately striking the tree behind. Ten other streaks of blood shot forth left, right, above, and behind him, aiming for the noisy Wisps with no intention of striking them.
Missing their target by less than a centimeter. As quickly as the air exploded with blood, it was over, and the creature felt weakened by his first real feat of power. Fatigue dominated his appearance, and his darkened eyelids blinked in a cute and sleepy way. He remained awake and used another influx of cursed energy to absorb what he had expended. Nothing was said. He did not trust the creature, but it was difficult keeping his eyes open. He suddenly squirmed in the hold, using his body language to indicate he wished to be put down on the ground. Immediately.
#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#bloodxbrother
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Pillow Fort Time
continued from Here
Balia could have laughed at the look he gave her when he'd processed her telling him he didn't have to use a fork. What? She used her hands to eat all sorts of food. Including eggs on the occasion. What did he do when he ate burgers? Or Pizza? Or any other food that was normally eaten without utensils? But his exhausted state kept her from really laughing. When he got up from eating his egg she was quick to follow and help him to the couch. She didn't have to shoo the dogs or Sparks off of the couch since they were at their plates of food. The other pokemon around the house probably feeling now they could go at their food now that all the drama had simmered down. Balia pulled the throw blanket from the back of the couch as Michael sank into the soft cushions. She settled him down with a care, taking his shoes off for him with only a bit of hesitation. She hoped that wasn't stepping over any boundaries there. She used to do this for her Mother after a long day on occasion.
"I have been asking myself that same question." she murmured with a sweet smile and a kiss to his forehead as he had set himself to sleeping. She stood up with a shaky sigh, rubbing her face and neck before looking over at Karen and Morgana. She needed to eat and start on what she needed to do today. Just cleaning the bathrooms, folding laundry, and practicing some of her new songs. Nothing too hard. Balia wanted to get her mind off of what had just happened and what might come of it but it was hard. Even as she and the pokemon went about the rest of the day around the sleeping man on the couch. Twice she had to shoo Aragh from waking him up, and had to pause practising her music to take everyone outside into the crisp spring air in the backyard. It was beautiful.
The weeks following their trip to One of a Kind Island and what had happened there had been a bit of a dreamlike haze. One she adores, but knew needed to settle. They needed some calm for a change. Some gentle day to day, and normal-ish relationship stuff for a while. Like what had happened before Sivos had shown up. She still got a warm fuzzy feeling at the memory of Michael agreeing to snuggle in the bed with her. She wanted to make so many more sweet memories with him. Wanted to have so many adventures! And Dates. She wanted to go on dates. Shouldn't they be doing that? Sure they'd kinda... gone wayyy past the dating phase already in some respects... but still! They needed to do things together and figure this thing out. She mused over possibilities and then went back over the events of the early morning. Mind catching onto what she'd told him about her nightmares. It had been so hard not to let everything come tumbling out when she'd told him. She didn't regret telling him, but she had a bad habit of over explaining about herself. And telling him absolutely everything right then and there would have killed their quiet moment.
It was scary opening up to a person. Michael wasn't just anyone. He was special. She was so worried that by telling him everything she was going to scare him away. But she couldn't NOT tell him. That would be the same as lying. These thoughts made her recall that Michael had wanted to talk to her about their baggage. There were so many things they probably needed to tell eachother. Before he possibly went off with Sivos to get rid of that Demon and save that other person. Or just say in general. And the sooner they did the better.
But a conversation like that would no doubt make them both anxious and other such things. And frankly when she got upset it was hard for her to calm other people down. She wasn't sure how to do this. Or even is Michael would want to talk about 'things' right then. All she really wanted to do was spend time with him and be there for him when he needed it.
She was folding sheets with Sir Buzzby's help when Sparks hopped under it to hide from Aragh and Topaz and some of the other pokemon in their game. Images of playing in sheets and making a pillow fort with her siblings danced in her head while she chased the alolan Raichu who was tangling herself and the others in the sheet.
A grin spread across her face and she looked at Karen and Morgana.
"I have a fun idea! We're gonna need my big tent, The one I took through my Kalos Journey. I'll need some of these sheets, my old string light set.... the ones that look like glass balls with string around them... and all the cushions and throw pillows!" Maybe using her big tent was cheating, but hey, it'd been a long while since she tried to make a pillow fort.
Which was exactly what they did. Made a comfy, cozy Fort out in the backyard near the pond. With her string lights hanging from the roof of the tent. In the waning evening light, she hoped it would make the whole thing kind of magical and fun.
Then came the part that might be awkward. Getting Michael into it without waking him up. She hoped he wouldn't be annoyed that they'd moved him in his sleep and without permission. That was the only difficult part. The nervousness she had about it. But once that was done and he was snoozing soundly in the Fort, Balia giggled and skipped her way into the house with girlish excitement to make something for everyone to eat now that it was pretty much dinner time. Something simple and fun. Something picnic like would be good! Like sandwiches and such! She'd make enough for everyone and would hopefully be bringing them into the fort about the time Michael would wake up.
#bloodxbrothers#Michael#Angst Cave Conversation#Pillow Fort#Moonlighting ship verse#under the cut cause it's long
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[txt] Hey there, is this Adrian? [txt] ~Baxter
[txt:] It’s Ari actually.
[txt:] I don’t think I know anyone named Adrian.
(( @bloodxbrothers ))
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@bloodxbrothers
“Come along, love~” Bella purred, pulling lightly on Baxter’s hand. She was leading him to the nearest bedroom. Why? Because it’s easier to trick a former spy into staying still in a trap when he’s not thinking there’s a trap around.
Should he follow her into the bedroom, she’d lead him to the bed. “Here,”She said, patting the bed. She brushed her fingers lightly against his jaw, and leaned in,as if to go for a kiss,“And if you stay like a good boy, when I get back you’ll get a reward, okay~” And she pulled back to sway away.
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"Mm-hm..." Her smile was bright and she giggled sleepily at the second kiss.
"Better than I have in a while." She yawned and stretched while he sat up. Scratching her head and pushing the massive Pyroar mane that was her hair in the morning out of her face. Then she sat up too.
"Come back here~!" Balia reached out to pull him in for another, but less sleepy kiss. Lingering on it for a long while. Her senses were gently warning her of what was to come and she wanted to ignore it for as long as she could.
"I didn't want last night to end." She murmured when she pulled out of that kiss and pressed her forehead to his.
"I think... We deserve a nice breakfast, don't you? Uninterrupted. If that's possible I'll take that. Anything I can get you my King? Cook for you?"
b-raypokemontime:
All night Balia had fought with her exhaustion to keep awake. Determined that this sweet sweet moment between her and her beloved wouldn’t end. And end with her waking to find an empty space beside her. But despite her fight she had finally closed her eyes and slept, holding onto him tight. It had rained softly all night, helping her sleep deeply and peacefully straight through till the morning.
The Morning dawned with gentle light and birds twittering in the coolness and stillness. She stirred slightly when Michael move at first, and then sighed when he pressed that kiss to her cheek and called her name. Aqua lashes fluttered open and sleep glossed spring green eyes fixed on his face. A dreamy smile crossed her lips at him.
“G'morning m'Pobear King.” She sighed, delighted to wake up to see him beside her. She new she could easily get used to that.
“Hey..” Michael sighed with her, immediately relaxing now, “Sleep okay?” He gave one last kiss before sitting back up. But his dark blue gaze didn’t leave the sigh of his lover below him. He was going to relish this moment for as long as he could. This Spirit will be damned if he came and interrupted this..
“Anything I can get for you? You finally went to sleep..”
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Makin’ Dolls Link
tagged by: @bloodxbrothers
People I tag: @vilesofvenom @captainoftheguard @oblivion-grace @oblivion-princxss
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(( @bloodxbrothers is apparently naked, @daesjourney is mad cute, and new guy @fossil-trainer-rex is flexing all over my dash.)) ((Its a good night))
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Chance was in Alola. The Espurr that hung around him seemed excited at the plane ride there. The Espurr was sure as long as they kept moving they would find someway to help Chance. They were around a volcano now, the Espurr leading fearlessly. There were voices nearby. He ran ahead to check them out. What he saw: two men from his human’s memories.
He meowed excitedly to Chance as the Shadow caught up. Looking ahead, he too slowly recognized the figures. “Gareth? Epinogress?”He not so much called as tested the familiar names.
@bloodxbrothers
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@bloodxbrother has requested a story : ❛ . . Am I your playground? ❜
𝑼𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.
Curious noise elicits , a small soft , barely-there sort of c o o to lilt words , ❝ … What d’you mean ? ❞ Asks in tone feigned for INNOCENCE as if the wee thing is not draped against him from behind where he is sitting , heft of mortal-made cask bearing down upon his back as they c l a m b e r and c l i n g to now-larger companion , arms loosely strung about his neck and head tucked cheek-to-cheek against his own. Verily , they ought KNOW what he means by asking at all ( is it not obvious anyways ? insistent on such closeness , altogether eager for this nearness — tell me , is it the ache , the everlasting loneliness that makes you act as if a youngling desperate for connection , or is it that your infernal heart has found itself tethered irrevocably to him ? ) ⸺ Yet herein pretend as if his question makes LITTLE SENSE to them ( deny , deny , deny — the proof there remains just the same ) .
Their play , however , does cease upon further consideration of what’s been said. The gentile , lightened airs always ever-possessed grow DULL & DIM , overshadowed by a harrow of uncertainty. Despite themself , though , Kaen does not relent , does not let go ( they shan’t , they mustn’t ! ) , and instead grapples t i g h t e r on instinct , however inadvertent the gesture. Head turns minutely , words but a warm breath expelled to a pricked , listening ear , quiet and sober , ❝ Y’know , you’re makin’ it sound like you’re jus’ a t o y for me or somethin’ , ❞ Kaen remarks , a slight frown tugging at their lips , ❝ Which isn’t the case at all. ❞ A pause. ❝ Do … D’you not like when I do these things , Choso ? Jus’ say the word , I won’t do it anymore , I PROMISE . ❞ Poor thing is trying to make amends for what might well be no true issue at all ( but how are they to tell the difference ? ) . Soft freckled cheek rests to his again , the pressure of their presence a w a r m essence seeping into one’s spirit. Eyes close , sigh freed , mouth preening once more into a small s m i l e as a thought occurs to them , ❝ … Maybe I’m readin’ too far into it but , I think y’actually l i k e it when I act like this sometimes. ❞ Or perhaps they were projecting ; WHO CAN SAY ?
#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | answered ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#bloodxbrother
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Acrid iron. Life and death. Piercing blood was incapable of penetrating limitless, but the bodies about the sorcerer were mere sacks of meat and blood. No pleasure was drawn from the act, but the act was completed nonetheless until there was a storm of scarlet. Red, red, red everywhere. The screaming stopped.
Spilled blood held significance; people placed too much weight upon it for it not to hold onto cursed energy with great efficiency, soaking in emotions of fear and pain and grief and the idea of power and family and tied to far too many concepts to be listed in one place. That significance is what makes blood such a potent medium for curses and was the key to the Kamo clan's powerful inherited technique.
Such power had no sway over him, but his Sixth eye can see it in all its brilliance against the otherwise dull backdrop as liquid crimson spilled with violent beauty. It passed him without so much as a flinch, Infinity between him and the stain of innocent deaths; within the macabre shower, he remained pristine and unmarked.
Tch, the blood manipulator was annoying but ultimately not a threat at all. Satoru does not spare even a glance towards him as he locks his attention upon his true targets of the cursed spirits.
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Danger Berry Saga: A Song of Love
@bloodxbrothers
The next day was a little more than hectic. Everyone making sure that everything was set up and in place. Balia going over the songs she was going to sing at the reception with Clint and Jacqueline. Mostly though Balia hung out with Michael and Baxter since most of the wedding was already set up and put into place. It was just the final touches and the waiting that was left. The wedding was to be in the Orchard at the Main house. The guests would be sitting on white chairs on a grassy area and there was a rose festooned arch that was set up where the two would stand hand in hand in front of the one officiating the wedding. The Colors for the wedding were rose gold, silver and varying shades of purple and lavender. And the cake was a chocolate masterpiece baked and decorated by Balia's Sister Trista. With a white sugar Beautifly and a sugar Pyroar together as the topper. When finally the hour before the sunset Wedding was to happen everyone was getting dressed and ready. Michael and Baxter were waiting for Balia to come out of her room before they went down for the event.
She came out of her room in a shimmery silver dress with soft lavender floral lace over it. It was A-line and had an off the shoulder neckline that was just the lace. Her hair was pulled up partially in a braided bun and the rest was left to cascade down her back and there were pearls and little white and periwinkle flowers in her hair among the braids.
"How do I look?" she looked to the two men. Michael just stared, his face a bright pink.
"Wooow.... trying to impress someone at this wedding there?" Baxter teased with a wink. Balia pushed him and blushed herself.
"Shut up. They asked me to sing at this thing remember? I gotta look good, just not outshine the Bride." Baxter was laughing.
"Breathe~taking..." Michael suddenly found the power of speach. And then suddenly realized what he said and that it was out loud, and made a hasty retreat.
"Bathroom..." he muttered as he went. Face red like a tomatoe.
"Such fun~" Baxter chuckled as Balia watched the black haired man go. She was confused.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"Well, if by something you mean by being gorgeous then yes. Is it wrong? He~ll no! You're perfectly fine." the tall blonde assured her.
"Oh.... well thank you.. Hope he doesn't get lost.." Balia was a little sad. She was going to ask him and Baxter to be her escorts to the Wedding. But there wasn't much time to worry about it.
The wedding was lovely. The Bride looked stunning and Clint cried when he saw Jacqueline coming down the aisle arm in arm with her Father. The vows were read just as the sun was setting and the sky was starting to blaze with color, and when the Minister officiating announced Clint could kiss the bride the sky and the puffy clouds were in their full sunset glory. It was truely a wonderful wedding to see. When it was over everyone went to the old Castle grounds. Where the great ballroom was set up for the reception. Purple and silver and pretty lights were everywhere at every table. And there was a small stage set up. Everyone was shown to a place and food was brought out for everyone. Drinks were ordered and everyone was feeling a little merry. Balia talked to Michael about the cake and what it had taken her sister to make it. She really admired how amazing her decorating skills had gotten. And learned that Michael wasn't that into sugary deserts. But that he liked Banana bread. Balia then however hand to get up from her place at the table. The Father-Daughter dance happened. Then the Mother and Son dance. And then Balia came out onto the stage. The lights were shining on her and making her sparkle with an ethereal light. Not that she really would have needed the help. Clint and Jacqueline were then on the floor together for their first dance as husband and wife.
Balia opened her mouth and held the ballroom spellbound allong with the newlyweds. Her voice was silvery and sweet as she sang about love and cherishing one's love for their whole life. Not taking them for granted, and not wasting a second of their time together. She gave it her all and put her whole heart into the song. Which was her talent and was what made her so popular. She really sang the song to it's full potential, sweet and loving. She sang it for her Brother and his new Wife. But her heart also wanted to sing for a certain someone in the crowd. And subconsciously she did just that. Eyes straying and lingering on his face a second longer than everyone else's. Her emotions pouring out of her and sending her message right at Michael in all of it's honest promising emanations. Her unconscious gentle feelings broadcasted loud and clear to him and anyone who was sharp enough to feel and spot her glances. There was no denying it, and there were very few dry eyes in that Ballroom.
When the song ended she smiled, not knowing what her emotions had done. Balia blushed under the clapping of everyone at the reception. Looking like she was overwhelmed as she made a beeline for her seat. Everyone started mingling in the pause between the dances and when the couple would be cutting the cake. And all Balia wanted right then, was a drink to help her throat, and to have a few quiet moments to calm down after that performance.
#bloodxbrothers#dream-seekers#Michael#Baxter#Danger berry saga#Drabble#Balia's Family#A Song of Love#SO IT BEGINS#Moonlighting ship verse
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SOMETHING IN THE BLOOD ⸺ And it is blood which is the thread which sustains , the very root of near-all creation ( for a soul , too , does bleed ) . And Kaëltyr itself is no stranger to its power , to its merit and magic. After all , it is its own essence which makes veins through many things and creatures ( or so the legends may say ; a blighted bane which runs thick & true throughout all , bred as deep as the first dawn which cast light unto man ) . But blood … Is not the w h o l e of it. And likewise , a heart is little to nothing without the body nor the spirit to make real something which lives , breathes and inevitably dies within the eternal consequence of existence. Kaëltyr can sense this not-child’s understanding of the grander reality is … LACKING , perhaps caught up in the mind it has been bonded to.
It could teach him , it could help him LEARN , it could ⸺ ! No. Once more the conflict must rest ; this is not its child and there shall be no sense in deeming him so ( though it may like to ) .
❝ So I see , ❞ Kaëltyr replies , tones low and lilted. It wants to press , to further express that there is m o r e to the point. Inevitably , it refrains , allowing the halfling to demonstrate his aptitude - a blood manipulation technique - which again intrigues the great entity ( been some while since someone with such ability crossed my path … i wonder … ) . The revelation is not as well received by the Wisps , who collectively react in c l a m o u r , the various hues of gentle light transitioning to A FRENZIED RED , casting the once-peaceful knoll in GARRISH CRIMSON GLEAM , each and every sprite flickering erratically in response to his brief moment of power with what might only be a great u p s e t . The Immaculate raises its head , observing the commotion before raising its voice , ❝ Ackt ! Bi sàmhach ! ❞ All falls to STILL & SOBRIETY once again , the realm recoiling from the beast’s reprimand. The Wisps , although quieted , remain tinted r e d .
One large hand of many reaches out to grasp Choso’s own , utterly d w a r f i n g it. Contact sends a flush of the god-curse's energy through him , coaxing his to return , encouraging him to demonstrate again. Another hand lifts , claw-tip of thumb digging deep into pointer ‘til hardened pelt-flesh relents and rends , spilling the Immaculate’s ichor ( the accursed boon-blood , burning-bright & blighted ) ; a slow , lazily dribbling rivulet of all too vibrant aureate essence. ❝ Show me again. ❞ Not a request. It holds its hand still , extended towards the boy and wound exposed , refraining from recovery in OFFERING . ❝ You’ll maybe pardon the curiosity , m’wee bairn , it’s been a while since I’ve seen someone with such a technique. ❞
A memory stirred. A mother's hand upon the back of the former child's head to get him to bow to the village elders. Politeness and custom engrained from a very young age even when the child barely knew how to write his name in hiragana. It he did not feel compelled to follow Japanese custom which memory prodded him, perhaps too raptured by the fact this was not the kind of creature one bowed their heard toward. It was no human. His age was only what of several days, the body he had taken over only a handful of years, yet he was formulating opinions of his own, such a capacity embedded into his genetic makeup. Like an aged owl with judgmental eyes, Chōsō blinked slowly as he process words which were transferred through the mind instead with the use of mouth. Using the memories he stole, he vaguely knew that names carried power. Legends had proper names, at least those humans themselves created, and the legends that were feared were referred to by various pseudo-names to avoid the notion of superstition.
The human child's mind harbored more fear than any other emotion. He understood it because he had no other choice, yet he could not relate to the feeling of trembling lips and quaking limbs. Perhaps it was because he held no fear of death, he could not imagine why anyone would be filled with fear in the presence of the unknown creature. Chōsō knew the child's name, the name of the child's mother, the village elder's family name, the neighboring uncle's family name, thus he did not know what to call it if not provided with a name. Shika was the sole thing which appeared in mind. It lacked in originality, but he and the body he stole were just children after all. He did not utter his thought and waited for the unknown creature to continue speaking. He continually experienced puzzlement, but did not demonstrate it in his expression.
The glowing lights which were suddenly birthed from the trees were different than the other flying creatures he had seen in his travels, and they held a language of their own; one he could not comprehend. The onyx stripe across cheekbones and the bridge of his nose almost took a scarlet glow as the bioluminescent bugs continued their fluttering and chattering. His little head swiveled around as he took the sight of in, but he did not reach for them. He did not know them. There were a lot of things about his anatomy which he did not know about it as he simply did not feel it. His body felt no grogginess, his lungs felt no need to expand and deflate, but the heart... he had it, and he had plentiful of blood. He was connected to blood unlike any other creature. If he concentrated enough, he could feel the actual shape of red blood cells and the speech at which they circulated throughout his body. And, of course, he knew the word blood. Again what people feared ( blood & death ), he felt no such strange emotion. Blood was life and power.
❛ . . . I have that. Blood and a heart. I feel them. ❜
Chōsō extended a chubby pointer finger, inserted it inside his mouth, and bit until the skin ruptured. Blood beaded bright and shimmering under the light of luminescent creatures. Ebony eyes were fixated on his bleeding digit as cursed energy surged. For him, it was as soothing as fog over the forest canopy at daybreak, but the cursed energy flowed with the strength of a sea at war. Power peaked as the thin steam of blood formed independent droplets that took the air. Hovering with immense potential, yet . . he called back the potential energy until the blood returned to his body and the tiny wound was healed over. Bored eyes returned to the large and comforting creature's face. Like that.
#❧ ⸺ how can ( queue ) say there is no story here ? ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | threads ❞#❧ ⸺ ch. kaen | verse xii: jjk ❞#bloodxbrother
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Midnight Snack
Matilda was staring at her plate. She was having trouble sleeping recently. Midnight snacks for her and Michael seemed like a good idea at first. Something sweet to lighten her mood.
It wasn’t working.
She kicked her legs lightly under the table. Maybe she should say something? Michael was important to her after all.
“Do you ever miss it?” The question was barely more than whisper. She didn’t look at him as she clarified,”Being Gareth?”
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