kiss the rain

{ non-selective indie touko fukawa } it beats me, but i do not know

[rapiisu]

by 계이중 ~

Permission was granted by the artist to use this image.

[chimidorofiba]

{ closed } winchester;

Fresh meat.

Fresh meat.

Fresh meat.

Now, Syo was going to be honest; she was sure she’d offed all the cute boys already. A while ago, actually. How long, two or three months? Sneaking into bars and clubs wasn’t as fun as it was—- where were all the hotties? But, for the past half hour or so, she’d been following this young, well-built man around wherever he went. Had he not noticed? He…he sure hasn’t said anything yet. She was just…waiting. Waiting for the right time to swoop in, waiting for the right time to speak to him.

And that was now.

She pretends to bump into him, and then walks in front of him with a fake, upset expression on her face as though she’s about to scold him (this was a common practice for her to start conversations), opens her mouth to speak, and then…stops. Smiles. Acts a little shy, plays with her skirt a little. Hopefully he’d buy into it.

Woah! Woah-ho-ho-ho! What d’we have here, huuuuuh? Mind talkin’ to little ol’ me for a while, handsome?

[chimidorofiba]

{ open } mini-event; a black crow amongst a flock of white doves

This seemed like a good idea while Syo was out buying a sexy yet cute dress for the event, but at the same time, she was a little worried. Why? Well, that wasn't something she was sure of, but the worry was there and it would be for the entire night. Maybe it was a remnant of Touko's personality that sort of lingered whenever Syo took over (the former personality always seemed to make time for anxiety and needless worries), and that pissed her off.

Moreover, as she arrived to the 'ball' or 'masquerade' or whatever the fuck those idiots called it, she found it a little difficult to get her mask to cover her face. Her tongue and glasses got in the way, those stupid damned things.  Everything, as she violently pushes the front doors open, looked expensive and beautiful and every single word she could possibly think of. In her mind, she liked to pretend Byakuya-sama was hosting it, and not that weird, lanky, walking stick of celery. Twice-ler? Thrice-ler? Hah. That last once sounded like Lice-ler. She'd never met the guy, and didn't really plan on it-- he didn't, ahem, 'turn her on' enough for her to waste her time.

Where th'fuck're all the cute boys, huh?! These fuckin' masks are pointless if I can't see their faces...

And now, with the mask being held in front of her face, Syo saunters off to go attempt to find herself someone who'll dance with her with sweet talk rolling out of her mouth and a sway in her hips.

[everyprettybook]

Mafra National Palace Library - Portugal