came out swinging.

affiliated portgas d. ace roleplay blog. please read all information before interaction.

[cinerums-blog1]

If one were to look at Ace for even a moment, one might think he hadn’t eaten in months. 

He eats the laid out food with all the fervor of a starved man, not a care in the damn world. But then he gets a glimpse of something he really wants in the hands of another.

“Hey, ah, excuse me --- are you gonna eat that ... ?”

[420gitgud69]

d:\\disconnected.docx

a young girl with chocolate tresses parts two crossing branches adorned with pink magnolias and a small clearing, with just enough sunlight peeking through the trees over head, reveals itself to her. she takes a step forward, inhaling to fill her lungs with the sweet smell of flowers, but her face betrays the scenery as a slight pout tugs at her lips. she hasn’t felt this way since she was seven years old and she ran a little too far from her mother’s hand in the local supermarket. it’s bittersweet and liberating and it rests heavy on her heart.  

is this what its like to be disconnected from the world?  

the feeling nudges her forward– small steps turn into leaps and bounds and suddenly she’s skipping through a field of mugunghwa blossoms until she finds herself on her back looking up at the sky, surrounding herself with millions of petals.

hana lets out a laugh, loud and unabashed. 

her followers will never believe this shit.

[cinerums-blog1]

The peals of laughter that ring through the forest are just a bit startling, unexpected. But it piques Ace’s curiosity, and so he walks carefully over roots and soil to find the source of the laughing; by now, his pain has subsided, but the questions only crescendo up in his brain.

When he reaches the clearing, he sees the girl, the blossoms. 

Hibiscus.

Portgas D. Rouge wore a hibiscus in her hair, that’s what Garp had told him.

When he’d heard that it made his heart hurt a little. When he’d heard that he sought out those flowers in the forest surrounding his childhood home but he could never find them, and he never would until he took off at seventeen.

This is ... strange, to say the least.

He can’t sort or parse the feelings, so he just stands there for a moment, gazing from flower to flower to girl to flower.

He wants to ask what’s so funny. He wants to find his crew, his mother. He wants to lay down, too; not next to her, but in the clearing all the same.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, miss.” Ace says, unsure if he’d been heard approaching, “I trust your laughter means you’re all right, but ... Are you?”

[cinerums-blog1]

dying on top of the world.

[seraphaels-blog]

Light shines down through the tall canopy of leaves, shrouding you; you’ve been traveling in the Evergreens for a while now, navigating its ever-changing landscape to pass the time. You come to a small clearing and the sunlight illuminates a figure, hunched, in the middle of it. Your feet move before you have a chance to think, as they have thousands of times before in the battlefield. But this wasn’t a battlefield. You’d never seen someone actually being hurt, needing help here.

“Are you all right? What happened?” Instinctively, you grasp the fallen person’s wrist, checking his pulse. It’s fast, worryingly so, but there aren’t any new wounds on him from where you can see. 

“Is… is something here?” Unconsciously, you’ve crouched over him, one knee touching the ground. He seems responsive, which is relieving, but he does seem to be in quite a lot of pain.

[cinerums-blog1]

She appears so suddenly; it doesn’t give you a terrible start, but her touching you and grabbing at your wrist makes you tense. You allow her to for a moment, simply because of the virtue of the doctor’s authority sneaking into her voice. The concern.

In your time spent in Whitebeard’s crew, you’ve come to know his nurses like your sisters. You’ve come to know their own concern, their own insistence, their own authority. You smile, small, at the familiarity, but groan a bit when the pain twists, sharpens.

“Long story.” you manage, and laugh again, “Hurts. Burns, really.”

It occurs to you that you might never see your sisters again. Your brothers, your siblings.

Your dad, the man who gave you life and purpose.

“I don’t know if there’s a whole lot you can do. ... Whoever you are.”

[cinerums-blog1]

dying on top of the world.

@seraphaels

All you know is fire and light, for what feels like forever and nothing all at once and, oh, have you ever known fire like this ... ?

Not fire, no --- you gasp and choke --- but magma, burning a hole in you. Punched right through your chest, dripping down your front, your little brother shaking and --- 

You d r o p ---

No, you’re not there anymore, kneeling and dying in Marineford, you’re just a barely-breathing mess on a forest floor. The sunlight makes you squint, feels like a slap to the face; your head hurts and your chest hurts and your heart hurts.

You’ve seen forests, of course, and this one seems all the same. The trees are taller than you’ve seen, however, and as you sit up and prop yourself upright proper, the pain establishes itself.

Upon touching your chest, hand moving slow and languid, you find there’s no hole. Confusion touches you, but then it settles on you. This must be Heaven.

Or ... Hell, given your past, your blood.

You laugh sardonically and lay back down again.

You’ll figure out what to do once the ache and burn subsides.

[noearchivistes]

asl through the years

[motolokiev]

Hi!! I’ve finally completed my program and I’m…I’m about to become part of the working world!!  I have a little over a week to take a break first, though! 

[whentheyart]

落書き (･∀･) by 小哈哈

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