#kabukimono takeover

[erabundus]

he's  forgetting  to  blink  again  —  yet  in  the  puppet's  defense,  he's  found  himself  met  with  quite  the  problem.  the  buildings  around  him  are  new,  which  in  itself  isn't  too  strange,  except  he  doesn't  remember  going  anywhere.  somehow,  without  moving  a  single  step,  he's  found  himself  standing  on  a  crowded  street  in  a  city  he  doesn't  know.  people  walk  by,  some sparing  him a  glance  (  mired  with  concern  and  confusion  alike  )  which  he  returns  —  composure  cracking  as  he  finds  he  doesn't  recognize  a  single  face.  he  knows  the  name  for  this  feeling.  anxiety.  it  buzzes  in  the  back  of  his  mind  like  some  kind  of  furious  insect.  there  are  sights  and  sounds  and  smells  all  around  that  are  wholly  UNFAMILIAR,  and  the  struggle  to  process  so  many strange  things  in  tandem  borders  on  overstimulating.  this  isn't  his  home,  the  kabukimono  thinks.  he  doesn't  want  to  be  here.

he  should  probably  find  out  where  he  is  —  then  work  his  way  BACKWARDS  from  there?  with nothing else to go off of, the  puppet  chooses  a  direction  at  random,  and  starts  to  walk ...  yet  he  doesn't  make  it  more  than  a  few  steps  before  stumbling, tripping, falling  flat on  his  face.

it  takes  him  a  moment,  struggling  to  move  the  hat  he  doesn't  remember  wearing.  (  it's  nice  —  but  where  did  it  come  from?  )  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  has  him  staring  in  confusion.  whose  clothes  are  these?  whose  shoes  are  these?  they're  awfully  tall.  why  do  they  need  to  be  so  tall?  can  he ...  walk  like  this  —  ?

[erabundus]

he  stares  at  you  with bright eyes,  expectation  in  the  thin  press  of  his  lips.  gaze  briefly  flicks  down  to  his  hands,  cupped  gently  together,  before  returning  to  your  face.  should  you  replicate  the  gesture,  the kabukimono  very  carefully  deposits  a  SLEEPING BIRD  in  your  palms.

[erabundus]

he  feels  disoriented;  there  are  lingering  emotions  swirling  about  his  head  that  he  cannot  pinpoint  a  reason  for  —  as  though  SOMEONE  ELSE  has  been  living  within  his  skull. are these the guili plains?  how did he get here? the last he can recall, he was standing in the midst of liyue harbor ... ren  runs  a  confused  hand  through  his  hair,  only  to  pause.  eyes  narrow;  a  flicker  of  irritation  lighting  up  his  countenance.

... where is his hat?

[erabundus]

this  strange,  beautiful  gem  on  his  chest  —  it's  a  vision,  isn't  it?  he  knows  what  that  is;  a  gift  bestowed  upon  those  recognized  by  the  gods ...  if  that's  the  case,  does  this  mean  he  has  also  been  recognized  by  the  gods?  or  perhaps  this  is  all  a  test  —  perhaps  he's  been  given  a  second  chance  to  PROVE  himself  worthy.  (  ...  mother?  is  this  your  doing?  )

this is all so much. he hasn't been given any instruction. and though it is quite nice to look at ...

... why oh why does it have to be anemo — ?

[erabundus]

he's  still  laying  on  the  ground  when  another  voice  reaches  his  ears.  it's  calm,  and  gentle  —  like  the  soft  winds  that  caress  his  cheeks  when  he  stands  on  the  beach.  (  gazing,  with  equal  parts  trepidation  and  melancholy,  at  the  place  she  resides.  )  though  he  doesn't  recognize  it,  the  puppet  finds  something  about  it  manages  to  almost  immediately  put  him  at  EASE.  it reminds him a bit of someone very precious; a fleeting scrap of familiarity he clings to with all his might. he  turns  around  to  face  the  stranger,  only  for  the  movement  to  send  that  hat  tipping  back  over  his  face.  a tiny, frustrated sound rises in his throat. it's  quite  heavy;  the  kabukimono  isn't  quite  sure  how  he's  meant  to  wear  such  an  ornate  thing.

❝  ren ... ?  ❞   it  takes  a  moment  of  fumbling,  but  he  manages  to  tip  the  kasa  back  and  pull  himself  into  a  sitting  position.  though  his  understanding  of  social  conventions  is  still  quite  shaky  at  best,  the  kabukimono  knows  this  is  INAPPROPRIATE;  the  people  passing  by  stare  at  him  more  than  ever  before  —  in  a  way  he  finds  he  dislikes,  yet  lacks  the  words  to  explain  why.  even  so,  he  doesn't  trust  himself  to  stand  up  properly  in  these  shoes.  he's  barely  used  to  wearing  shoes  at  all.   ❝  i  think  i'm  okay.  ❞ he would be BLEEDING if he wasn't; he knows that's how it works.

he  looks  up  at  the  stranger,  eyes  wide  and  round  like  lavender-hued  moons.  lips  part;  a  silent  gasp.

❝  are  you ...  by  any  chance,  are  you  related  to  niwa  hisahide?  ❞   that  hair,  that  voice,  that  gentle  presence  —  the  resemblance  is  unmistakable.  relief  floods  the  kabukimono's  features;  he  reaches  out  and  clasps  one  of  the  stranger's  hands  between  both  of  his  own.   ❝  could  you  help  me?  please ...  i  don't  know  how  i  found  myself  here,  but  i  need  to  get  home  before  anyone  starts  to  worry.  ❞

normally kazuha would try to avoid the busy hours of the day in the streets of liyue harbor. as all the voices were sometimes making his sensitive ears ring and giving him a headache. 

he decided to run this errand as quickly as possible. it was just a small errand for the inn lady that at this point was ren and his landlady.. she was a very nice and sweet old lady and kazuha have come to appreciate her hospitality and kindness. letting them stay in her inn as a couple. ( kazuha had a strong feeling that she knew that ren and he would end up dating... ) because not every place was that open to same-sex couples.

being deep in his thoughts like always he almost missed the familiar kasa and the person it belongs to. kazuha approaches his partner but suddenly stops.... something was off. the air was different around ren as if the weather changed from a calm summer breeze to a heavy autumn storm. 

❛ ren? are you oke? ❜ slowly he bends through his knees in front of his confused-looking partner.

[erabundus]

@melodicbreeze &&. said... The winds rustles around him like it's shaking him back-

❝  huh  —  ?  ❞  a  surprised  yelp  spills  from  his  lips;  for  a  moment,  it  truly  seems  as  though  the  WIND  has  a  mind  of  its  own.  the  kabukimono  nearly  drops  the  vision  in  all  his  panic  —  fumbling  it  between  both  hands  while  the  breeze  shakes  him  in  turn.  by  the  time  it  finally  settles,  his  hair  is  tousled,  clothes  in  an  equivalent  state  of  disarray,  and  he  has  to  sputter  and  shake  his  head  a  bit  to  keep  his  bangs  from  falling  into  his  eyes.  a  few  seconds  pass  while  he  tries  to  regain  his  BEARINGS.  then,  the  puppet  returns  his  attention  to  the  gem, bewilderment etched across those delicate features.

did  he  do  that?  he  isn't  sure.  his  understanding  of  visions  is  surface  level  at  best;  he  knows  they  can  afford  one  a  certain  range  of  control  over  the  elements  —  though  he's  not  a  clue  how  it's  meant  to  work  beyond  that. is he supposed to just KNOW? ... because he doesn't.

... maybe he should shake it more and see what happens.

[erabundus]

it's  getting  late  (  it's  getting  dark  )  —  logically  he  knows  this  is  a  time  when  he  SHOULD  be  sleeping ...  but  is  it  really  such a terrible thing  if  he  chooses  not  to? just this one time?

[erabundus]

@ruinlost &&. said... Taiyang ran up to the kabukimono with a wave,"big brother !, your here!!" he seemed particularly giddy today ,a bit more than his usual joyful self "I found some cool stuff by one of the lakes and I wanted to show you !" or least he had found it cool (he had yet to show farrow since he had been running errands today) ,anything new to him was bound to have surprises!

"It'll be like an adventure -n maybe after we can go look for stuff for lunch maybe dinner ,if you wanna !-we have a lotta time!"

still  at  a  loss  for  what  to  do,  the  kabukimono  has  busied  himself  picking  a  few  flowers.  it  doesn't  help  shine  so  much  as  a  scrap  of  light  on  his  unusual  circumstances,  nor  does  it  bring  him  any  closer  to  finding  his  way  home.  however,  he's  been  told  engrossing  himself  in  small,  tactile  work  is  an  effective  way  to  combat  any  feelings  of  PANIC  —  and  it  does  seem  to  be  keeping  him  (  relatively  )  grounded.  the  flowers  are  red;  a  duller  hue  than  dendrobium,  but  they  carry  a  vaguely  sweet  scent  and  their  texture  is  as  smooth  as  silk.  he's  been  carefully  weaving  them  into  a  little  crown,  using  sprigs  of  mint  as  an  accent  color.

he  hears  a  voice,  but  he  doesn't  realize  it's  being  directed  AT  HIM  until  it  draws  too  close  to  ignore.  the  kabukimono  looks  up,  eyes  wide  and  flooded  with  confusion.  big  brother?  he  isn't  the  first  to  refer  to  him  by  such  terms;  the  people  of  tatarasuna  are  his  family  —  he's  been  called  a  sibling  by  children  with  whom  he  shares  no  blood.  (  he  understands  now that  such  relationships  can  be  a  choice.  )  however ...  he's  never  met  this  boy  before  in  his  life —  yet  he  speaks  to  him  with  such  familiarity,  the  puppet  can't  help  but  wonder  if  he's  been  mistaken  for  someone  else.  that  seems  to  be  happening  quite  a  bit  today;  he's  not  sure  how  to  HANDLE  it. not for the first time he wishes desperately for a familiar face ... someone, anyone he already knows to tell him what to do.

❝  oh ... !  alright.  ❞   ultimately, the  kabukimono  decides  he'll  play  along.  it's  easier  than  trying  to  explain.  (  particularly  when  he  doesn't  quite  know  what's  happening,  himself.  )  an  adventure  at  least  sounds  INTERESTING.  perhaps  he'll  even  be  able  to  uncover  a  few  much-needed  answers  along  the  way. ❝ to ... the lake, first? lead the way.  ❞

he  drops  the  flower  crown  on  the  boy's  head  and  offers  a  faint little  smile.

[erabundus]

shakes his vision. ❝ ...  ❞ shakes his vision a little HARDER. ( still nothing. maybe that's for the best. )

[erabundus]

@lupicalled &&. said... waits eagerly (but patiently) for you to throw your hat like a frisbee

the  kabukimono  tilts  his  head  to  and  fro,  feeling  the  gentle  sway  of  the  kasa's  tassels.  (  he  hasn't  quite  figured  out  how  to  move  yet  without  smacking  himself  on  them.  )  several  seconds  pass  before  the  puppet  realizes  it's  the  hat  that  he's  after  —  though  once  he  does,  he's  quick  to  pluck  it  off  his  head.  he  inspects  it  with  a  soft,  quizzical  hum.  what  a  strange  thing.  the  intricate  design  ensures  the  hat  is  quite  hefty,  yet  he's  come  to  realize  it's  been  constructed  in  such  a  way  that  cleverly  distributes  the  weight.  (  the  front,  made  heavier  to  support  that  which  hangs  from  the  back.  )  he  feels  a  bit  bad,  like  he  hasn't  been  able  to  appreciate  something  so  PRETTY  as  it  deserves.  a  veil  is  much  lighter,  much  easier  to  move around  in  by  comparison;  he  simply  isn't  used  to  something  so  cumbersome  at  all.  however,  he  can  tell  from  how  it  shines  like  a  polished  blade  that  whoever  it  belongs  to  cherishes  it  DEEPLY.

does  it  belong  to  him?  do  these  clothes  belong  to  him?  they  weren't  what  he  was  wearing  last;  the  only  thing  he  can  actually  recognize  is  the  feather.

the  puppet  stares,  entrenched  in  thought.  a  nod.  another  nod.  then,  he  looks  up.  he  supposes  it  must  be  his  —  and  if  that's  the  case,  he  can  decide  what  to  do  with  it.  pulling  an  arm  back,  the  kabukimono  promptly  THROWS  the  hat  as  far  as  he  possibly  can.  he's  always  been  told  he's  far  stronger  than  his  small  frame  might  imply,  though  even  he  isn't  expecting  it  fly  as  far  as  it  does.  it  keeps  going.  and  going.  and  going,  going,  going  —  until  he  has  to  narrow  his  eyes  and  squint  to  (  seemingly  )  keep  it  from  blending  into  the  very  horizon  itself.  huh. when  did  he  get  so  good  at  throwing  things?

❝  well ... have  fun!  ❞  it's  out  of  his  hands  now  —  literally.

[erabundus]

@prophecylinked &&. said... When Kabukimono can finally rest to get some food, it seems like the day is going to continue in its chaotic hijinks, considering he suddenly has a ferret made of cryo popping out of his sleeve from nowhere. It looks expectantly at what he eats, sniffing and squeaking at it to try and convey its want. Smells yummy, he smells funny, but what's more important is the food, obviously!

he  eats,  not  because  he  feels  any  real  desire  to,  but  because  it's  something  people  are  supposed  to  do.  it's  a  bit  TRICKY;  the  kabukimono  feels  no  physical  sense  of  hunger  —  and  in  fact,  spent  an  embarrassingly  long  time  endeavoring  under  the  assumption  it  was  a  mere  figure  of  speech.  (  like  comparing  the  rain  to  cats  and  dogs,  and  other  impossibly  vague  sayings.  )  he  was  quite  unsettled  to  learn  that  wasn't  the  case.  that  hunger,  thirst,  fatigue  are  all  internal  stimuli  the  kabukimono  appears  to  lack ...  for  if  he's  meant  to  be  human,  if  he's  meant  to  be  a  person,  why  does  he  not  experience  these  basic  necessities?  he  knows  the  answer  —  because  he  was  never  meant  to.  because  his  body  is  that  of  a  puppet ...  yet  he  still  engages  in  them  with  the  same  sense  of  consistency  and  routine  that  a  human  would,  in  the  hopes  that  he  might  yet  train  himself  to  feel  these  things.

currently, the  sun  sits  high  in  the  middle  of  the  sky.  the  kabukimono  knows  that  means  it's  time  to  eat  lunch.  so  he  does  —  regardless  of  whether  he  feels  any  real  compulsion  to do so.  to  that  end,  he  holds  a  skewer  of  grilled  vegetables  clutched  betwixt  slender  fingers.  the  flavor  is  good;  a  bit  smoky  from  the  fire.  he's  glad  he  can  at  least  experience  TASTE.

an  odd  rustling  in  his  sleeve  bids  the  puppet  to  pause  mid-meal.  a  creature  pops  out  —  an  ANIMAL?  though  something  about  it  seems  strange.  it  reminds  him  of  a  cloud,  or  the  vapors  that  spill  from  human  lips  on  particularly  chilly  mornings.  (  yet  another  peculiarity  he  cannot  replicate.  )   ❝  oh ...  hello  there.  ❞   his  voice  is  quite  calm;  the  greeting  cordial.  strange circumstances aside, he  sees  no  reason  to  fear.   ❝  are  you  hungry,  little  one?  ...  here.  ❞  he  plucks  a  pepper  from  the  end  of  the  skewer  and  offers  it  to  the  ferret.

❝  you  need  this  more  than  i  do;  eat as  much  as  you  like.  ❞

[erabundus]

@knightshonour &&. replied... give it a lil' smack. a little percussive maintenance never hurt.

he  gives  it  a  smack  —  !  it  makes  a  dull  THWACK sound,  like  knuckles  on  too-thick  glass.

...  and  predictably,  nothing  changes.  the  kabukimono  still  keeps  his  hand  raised  long  after  the  fact.  (  it  looks  limp,  almost  boneless.  )  then,  he  mumbles  a  very,  VERY  delayed,  ❝  ow.  ❞  not  because  it  actually  hurts,  but  rather  because  he  knows  that  to  be  the  appropriate  rection.

[erabundus]

@melodicbreeze &&. said... A wisp of wind has come, chittering happily, to keep the Kabukimono company! ... And direct him away from anything potentially harmful.

he  watches  the  wisp,  eyes  alight  with  WONDER.  spinning  with  small,  careful  steps  (  as  to  not  trip  )  to  better  track  it.  he's  never  seen  such  a  creature  before  —  dancing  about  on  the  wind,  singing  like  a  tiny  bird.  yet  its  appearance  suggests  it's  something  else  entirely.  today  has  been  such  an  odd,  STRESSFUL  experience  —  but  the  puppet  is  pleased  to  know  the  world's  myriad  of  precious  wonders  still  exist,  even  in  a  place  otherwise  so  unfamiliar  to  him.

❝  hello.  where  did  you  come  from?  ❞  he  isn't  sure  if  it  can  understand  him.  that's  fine;  the  kabukimono  often  finds  himself  speaking  with  the  animals  in  his  company,  regardless  of  whether  they  can  actually  respond.  it  seems  like  the  POLITE  thing  to  do  —  and  frankly,  his  mind  buzzes  with  enough  curious  thoughts  that  he  can't  help  but  speak  them  aloud.  his  head  tilts  as  he  follows  the  creature  with  his  gaze;  the  puppet  at  least  remembers  to  blink  this  time.  (  would  the  wisp  care  if  he  forgot?  well,  he supposes it's  good  PRACTICE  either  way.  )   ❝  do  you  want  me  to  follow  you?  ❞  he  feels  like  that  might  be  the  case.  it  certainly  seems  quite  intent  on  capturing  his  attention,  if  those  little  chitters  and  chirps  are  anything  to  go  by.

the  kabukimono  takes  one  step,  then  another  —  a  bit  uncertain,  a  bit  unsteady,  but  with  growing  confidence.

❝ alright. lead the way, then.  ❞ seems he's made a new friend. how wonderful; something positive came out of what had otherwise been an awful situation.