#lifeskein

[way-of-flowers]

“What on EARTH is going on...!?”

{ @lifeskein - @nakedmohawk - @stahl-konigin }

[nakedmohawk]

TFW your surrogate sibling might end up dying just like your real sibling.

[inutechy]

lifeskein replied to your post: I say I’ll enter the woods and never return but...

“I’d give you 11 minutes.”

“This is so mean, but also entirely correct, I hate it, thanks, Shiro.”

[winterfurst]

"Just Take This."

Send “Just Take This”

I’ll generate a number 1 - 12 and write my Muse’s reaction to receiving an article of clothing from yours.

4.  A shirt

“....?”

Looking at the shirt that Shirou had just given him, Satoshi looked a his uncle. What in the fucking world....? 

“Does this have life fibers in it?”

[cyberneticlagomorph]

The Warren is quiet, for once.

The witches are at work, the kids are at school. Your in-laws are off being lovey-dovey and gross somewhere else. Even Rae and most of the demons are gone, given a spur of the moment day off to go spend however they pleased.

Aside from your youngest cubs, your butler (he refused to leave you) and a handful of skeletons (they had nothing better to do, honestly), you’re very much alone.

Perfect.

You’ve been up since very early this morning putting together the absolute best valentine’s day surprise anyone has ever seen. You’ve even gone so far as to make a detailed schedule of everything as well as several contingency plans in case something goes wrong. Hopefully nothing goes wrong. First on your list is a gentle prerequisite, a taste of the opulence to come, gift baskets. Small ones, for both your romantic partners and quite a few palentines, why should only your polycule be spoiled today?

They’re shipped out around noon, leaving you about fifteen or so minutes for a small break that is spent caffinating and feeding your toddlers. They’re thankfully well behaved today, and you shoot several prayers to several deities of parenthood that they stay that way. Hopefully they listen. By three p.m. you manage to get them all down for a nap and take a little time to have one yourself before the sun starts to dip low and you run off to get ready.

You shower for the third time today and throw on some clean clothes. Nothing fancy really, just some beat up overalls, long mismatched socks, and an oversized sweater underneath. You actually wear shoes today too, just some old boots better suited for snow than where you’re going. You gather several things that you’ve spent the day preparing and teleport to your castle in Wonderland. There, everything is going quite smoothly. The Royal Guard is dressed in their finest, swords sheathed at their sides. They bow to you as you approach, some stifling snickers. They’re excited, moreso than you. Though you don’t expect anything as dramatic as an attack on your castle and your guests, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Hence the presence of your guard.

With hours to spare, you put the finishing touches on your surprise. The final detail of which is a text to every member of your polycule

[txt @polycule]: meet me in wonderland @5 p.m. for a special surprise 🌹 💋 🌙 💙 🔪

[txt @ polycule]: …ignore that knife

When the members of your polycule arrive, they are to be greeted like royalty by your guard and escorted to the main hall where you will greet them properly with kisses and hugs and gooey things of that nature. After that, they are to be pampered. You have spared no expense tonight, and have hired masseuses, manicurists, and the best chef, all from Underland. Queen Diamour’s gift to you, on this most auspicious of days. There is a feast to be had, courses upon courses of the best you have to offer. Wild meats, fruits, and foraged things. Champagne made from dandelions, and hunks of raw honeycomb. Marrow bones, and stew made from sea life. Desserts that defy description, and drinks that do the same. There are flying pies, singing soups, and something like a fallen star on a plate.

Music plays in the dining room, a love song in a bottle that you bought from a strange bat. The tune is carried on a spring breeze, sung in a language long dead but somehow still understandable. A song on a warm breeze that smells of roses and wild places, honey and feral things. The love of a wild thing with fleet paws and a steadfast heart. You wrote these lyrics yourself, they tell the story of an impulsive rabbit and his wish to be happy and free. He finds his happiness in the arms of his loved ones, and solace in their eyes. Every hurt he suffers is a blow lessened by their support. You sing along with the wind, even though you aren’t much of a singer. The breeze-song is an experience for the senses, an emotion given form, it compliments the dinner better than any wine.

With dinner over and the sun long set, the castle is lit by the gentle glow of a hundred floating candles in simple glass orbs. You lead your procession of guests down into the rough-hewn caves just below the castle. The air is a little chilly here, but quickly grows warmer as you reach the hot springs. Several bubbling pools of hot, mineral rich water, once again lit by candlelight. You offer your beloveds privacy screens and let them soak at their leisure. You really ought to join them but this is for them, not you and you don’t want to risk falling asleep while partially submerged. Instead you wait on them hand and foot, bringing glasses of drink and bites of this or that to whomever may need it. Your castle is theirs for the night if they wish it, there are more than enough beds for everyone to sleep over, but as busy as everyone is you highly doubt anyone will take you up on that offer. But you can dream. You can dream.

[way-of-flowers]

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

“ ...Iori...? ”

...KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK...

Came a metallic sound from a gentle knuckle-tapping on the steel-locked doorway. Having no other way of entry, a familiar gentle voice of a young lady calls to within. 

“ Iori, it’s...it’s Mio. I...I haven’t heard from you in awhile.” She continued speaking through the door, “ Your Uncle says you’ve been missing for quite some time, so I...hope you’re in there. Because he’s incredibly worried about you. We’re all are...”

No response was given.

The Florist face falters into worrisome sadness and gives a quite sigh. ‘Of course he isn’t in there, Mio.’ Mr. Soroi said he hadn’t seen Iori in days. Still, it was worth the effort. Iori did have a history of spending unspoken days working heedlessly in his laboratory. It was possible, that he wanted to be alone. Especially with the...awful fight he and Kinagase had gotten into.

Every since the two had their terrible fight over those...Life Fiber Colonies, Mio had not heard from either since. No calls, no texts, no responses... Mio had hoped their friendship would’ve kept them from this unforgivable radio silence. But they were both incredibly stubborn, weren’t they? Yet also, regrettably... right in their own ways. With two relentless mindsets handling this entire madness so very, very wrong.

Tsumugu with LIfe Fibers being too dangerous, yet handling it with sheer brute, gorilla-like force. 

Shiro, with becoming more informed about Life Fibers, at the expense of placing themselves in danger once again. 

If they’d only talked...everything wouldn’t have to be this...foolish. 

But when had anything ever been so easy...?

This, however? Something wasn’t right... Iori wouldn’t leave without saying nothing, especially not to his own Uncle or Lady Satsuki herself. At least, not for...THIS long.

...Did...Kinagase–NO. He wouldn’t. Tsumugu wasn’t so reckless as that! 

...Was he?

But he’d never hurt Shiro...right?

“ ....... ”

Unanswered by all ends, the Florist’s can only quietly press her forehead to the doorway and make a silent prayer. One that seemed unheeded by anyone around her.

“...Shiro...please... Please be alright. Please be safe...”

{ @lifeskein } & { @nakedmohawk } & { @stahl-konigin​ }

[nakedmohawk]

lifeskein replied to your post: @way-of-flowers “…Hmm~ Then again, maybe it isn’t...

“Silence, bottom.”

Glares in passive rage!

[nakedmohawk]

lifeskein replied to your post: “Let’s not be rash. You can’t go anywhere right...

“Fine. Then perish.”

“Much better, thanks.”