花非花

Kasen Kanesada of Touken Ranbu {Affiliated & Semi-Selective}

[swordcopy-blog]

【雅】“In being forced to make a choice, we discover what is truly beautiful to our eyes.” Kasen says brightly. “Between what we pick and what we spare…many things can be inferred.”

He observes her eating with clear delight, and nods approvingly. “Ah, so you treasure precious things as well…” And then Kasen pauses mid-thought, hand stretched out to reach for a napkin on the table. The other half of Bunji’s words catch up to him in an instant.

“Izumi, your brother?”

HONK

“Ah?”

HONK

[swordcopy-blog]

Wehhhh~

[demo]

Passing through Times Square by Mareen Fischinger

[demo]

It does not matter how slow you go so long as you do not stop.

Wisdom of Confucius (via demo)

[ruleofroses-archive]

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[lotuskempo]

intro: catch the wind~

[swordcopy-blog]

lotuskempo:

Fon shifted on his feet as the water streamed past the canoe, peering (and failing to see much) in the fog as the old fisherman guided him towards some unknown destination. Their boat creaked beneath them, a low, mournful sound that complemented the gray and misty skies.

War. The old man had spoken of war–and a place called Actuality. Fighting made him think of the Acrobaleno Battles–and his eyes drifted to his wristwatch, where the numbers sat stubbornly at zero. They hadn’t changed since he’d woken up, even though he was sure the matches were supposed to start today…

Well, whatever it was, he’d find out the details when they reached this town. Perhaps track down his fellow Acrobaleno, if they were around, and figure out what was going on.

–

He abruptly collapsed to his feet when he stepped onto dry land. As an Acrobaleno, Fon constantly felt the flow of Storm Flames within him, but now–

–now it felt as if someone had stoppered up his Flames and sealed them off, leaving him…cold and empty. And strangely weak, as if he really was no more than a two-year-old toddler. Clumsy fingers fumbled for his pacifier and clutched it feebly–it was still red, and warmth radiated from its depths. But the  Storm Flames inside it, like his own, were tantalizingly out of reach. Disturbed, Fon turned to demand answers from the fisherman–but the old man had already left, his boat taking him back into the mists.

He managed to crawl to his feet, painfully slow, and shook his head at the red-faced monkey chittering worriedly by his side.

“I’ll be fine, Lichi,” Fon murmured, thankful that he could, at least, still speak normally. “Just give me a moment.”

After a brief rest to adjust himself to his newer, weaker body, Fon made his way to the so-called ‘office’, nearly getting trampled by horses and people while crossing the street. He was not only weaker, but slower as well, and toddled more than walked.

The wait was long (made longer by others who kept trying to cut him in line) and people working there had been exceedingly unhelpful, first ignoring him entirely until he kicked their ankles to get their attention, then mistaking him for a lost child. When Fon finally straightened matters out (with help from Lichi, who had climbed up an official’s pant leg to tug at his hair), they’d only explained the basics before handing over an onyx sash for his faction, Yaoguai.

It was far too long for his arm, so after a pause, one man awkwardly offered to tie it around his waist like a belt. And then they’d patted his head and sent him off on his way, refusing to answer any of his questions.

Troubling.

He’d eventually worked his way to the second floor balcony of a local tea shop, after accumulating a fine selection of bruises and near-death experiences just from walking around town, to survey his new surroundings.

It looked a bit like ancient China, with the architecture and the people, and Fon wondered if this was another one of Reborn’s elaborate setups to train the young Vongola heir. But no, that made no sense, and besides–he hadn’t met anyone he knew since entering this town.

He needed more intel. And for that, he needed to branch out–explore, talk to people, make connections. Not so easy when you were only about 1-foot tall. Peering below, Fon observed the multitude of people walking about, and honed in on someone that looked promising.

As a perch, that is. 

He waved at Lichi, and the monkey dutifully climbed atop his head, holding tight to Fon’s hair. Then, the baby worked himself past the balcony’s railings to stand at the very edge.

Below, the target he’d marked was walking closer and closer to the tea shop. Soon they would be directly underneath him. Fon paused to take in a deep breath, feeling the gentle breeze playing about his hair.

Then he opened his arms, and let himself fall.

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