#taka-yee

[spellswordkhint]

REMEMBER THEM | A drabble, perhaps? :D

[1. Preparing for the Memorial.] 

The Khint household was strangely quiet. Usually, despite there only being three people who lived there, the home was filled with a low hum of noise, of clattering pots and of television chatter, of conversation and the pattering of feet. Today, it was just... quiet. 

The television was off. Any talking was done in low tones, whispers and murmurs that didn’t seem able to pierce the air, even with Jackal’s harsh voice. There was stagnation in the place of energy. Solemn was probably the best word for it. 

The family had spent the morning preparing to head for the memorial, eating a light breakfast and getting washed up like normal before getting dressed. Such routine wasn’t particularly a difficult task, nor time consuming, but everything felt slower today, heavier. 

Amira had picked out her own dress. It was a muted, light blue, down over her knees, and tripped with white. Khint had frowned and nearly scolded her on it, it wasn’t quite something of mourning. Amira had stopped him, shaking her head. One of her preschool teachers had been caught in a boom. This was her favorite dress. Besides, she figured, if those who had died could see them all mourn, they would probably like something cute and subdued over something boring and subdued. Khint couldn’t argue with that logic. 

Jackal had gone through half of his wardrobe before giving up and going to Khint for help. None of his clothing was quite good enough for a memorial, he complained. Nothing special enough. Khint had sat him down, and went through his clothing. A button up shirt and some slacks were eventually chosen, finished off with one of Khint’s own ties. Jackal seemed satisfied, relaxing with a sigh. Something about not disappointing “his folks”. 

Khint has simply decided on a suit. He had many, and it was appropriate. Something the media could see him in, and something somber enough for the occasion. There had been good people who had died in the last month. They at least deserved that much. 

The three managed to get out the door not long after. Even with a rented pod, it would take a while to get to the park. At least it would... give them some time.

[seekerofstarlight-blog]

REMEMBER THEM | Another drabble, pls? (Because apparently I like the pain.)

[6. Recognizing someone on the marquee / projector (Also more mortality thoughts because Eph has issues.)] 

Ephemera knew that person. That person, whose face was smiling and bright, whose face was being projected for all to see, that person, who up until recently was alive-- He knew them. 

She was the girl from his favorite coffee shop, the one who always remembered to put sprinkles on his mocha, but never how to spell his name. She always smiled and told him to have a good day, no matter tired she looked.

Monika. Her name tag had said that, the little screen almost eclipsed by stickers of musical notes in holographic foil. 

They’d never been close. He’d never had a chance to get close to her. But he did know that she had moved to Aurora a few months ago, and that she had been a music student. A composer, she’d clarified. Not a musician. But she had confessed that she knew the piano. 

Ephemera remembered asking her for a duet sometime. She’d asked if he knew how to. He’d said that they would see. In the end, she’d given him her number. They had never gotten around to that duet. 

Now they never would. 

She’d stopped coming to work, for some reason, a few weeks ago. He’d never asked where she’d gone. He hadn’t wanted to ask. Not with the booms going on. The story he’d convinced himself of was that she’d gotten another job, or that school had gotten to be too much for a shift at the “Sunbean”. She had gotten herself boyfriend, or girlfriend maybe. Or she was writing that techno-ballad concerto that she had told him about. (He’d laughed and told her that he’d pay good credits to hear that.) 

She wasn’t any of those things. Hadn’t done any of those things.

He wasn’t sure what he was sadder about, never getting to know her, or so many dreams being wasted just like that. But either way, his heart ached. Why did she have to die? Why did he have to know? 

[spellswordkhint]

⚡ | WANNA RACE, BRUH!?

“...You can’t be serious.” Khint stared at the sleek cars in front of him, then looked to his side, where Takada was standing, as if his proposal was perfectly innocent. It had been years since he’d driven, let alone at high speeds. Even then, he was always more for cycles. “You want to race?”

[notsilentlyjudging]

@taka-yee

If he was reading the situation incorrectly, it would be… one hell of a mistake. But the younger man had been sticking quite close throughout the evening too, and he could swear he’d seen it in his eyes. That certain downcast. The flush made more obvious by his freckles. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been right, and still turned down, though, either. He would live, no matter. He just wanted to know if the attraction was one-sided. If it would go anywhere.  

 “Quince,” he breathed, mouth close, warm and smelling of mint candy.

 It was up to Quince to decide. He wouldn’t move until then.

It wasn’t what he had been expecting at all. The sudden closeness, the ghosting of his breath; Takada was attractive, but Quince hadn’t considered him to be an option for something like this, especially not after he had caught Quince accidentally crashing a wedding. 

He was only a few inches taller than Takada, but it felt as if he were dwarfed, somehow, in the moment. A tingling flush spread out from his cheeks and he felt it creeping down his neck. He was close, and it was clear the direction this was going.

“Y-yeah?” Quince stuttered, and gravitated closer without meaning to.

[spellswordkhint]

Takada is grinning on the other side of the room. Laughing, really, right into his drink, and he can't shake the scene playing out in his mind. Droves of women -- and students, too, oh yes -- wanting so badly to grab that plant and hold it over his head. To claim it as tradition, to make it an excuse. And, then, he thinks, how funny it would be if HE were the only one brave enough... They would be so mad!! Probably want to kill him!! /ahahahaha

Khint had been pushing away people all evening. While he was all for fun traditions, as long as they were harmless, this was ridiculous. High school students, staff members-- both male and female mind you, had been dangling the stupid little silk plant above him relentlessly... or trying. He was former NDC, his dodging skills were legendary. 

...But he couldn’t dodge them all, of course. “Takada? What are you...?” 

[claireverie]

☂, ♒, and ☯

9 questions about my muse ;;

☂:Who can your muse lie to without having to worry about getting caught?

      Quina, probably. There are few people that she feels would completely accept her reasons for lying, even some of those closest to her.

♒:What did your muse think their life would be like when they were younger?

      She fully expected herself to be a mermaid princess by now. But really -- she certainly didn’t expect this. She figured she’d either be a graduated SeeD going on missions, or still be trying to pass the exam.

☯:How would your muse react to meeting someone who is scarily alike to them?

      She’d honestly probably chock it up to a time paradox or parallel -- that is, if it was looks-wise. If it’s personality-wise, they’d probably bounce really well off each other and be good friends and a good support system. Hikari is one of those people that can be friends with herself -- she just can’t realize it until it’s in front of her.

[notsilentlyjudging]

Phoenix!

My muse dreams of their Fated.

Quince didn’t often think of the type of person he might end up with. Most days he was content with the interactions he got at the Pharmacy and coffee shop he frequented, sometimes even the Battalia Laser Tag Area, and he had Blep at home to beep at him uncomprehendingly when he spoke to it. It didn’t understand the verbal commands he was giving it because he wasn’t giving any, just talking. 

But sometimes the silence got to him, Blep’s unfeeling beeps got to him, and the loneliness got to him. 

He daydreamed about seeing the Cipher on those days. He thought about asking her to pair him with his Fated. He dreamed of getting that red envelope, the same ones that his parents kept framed in their front room. He fantasized about the kind of person he would want to be fated with.

Tall, he hoped. Taller than him, with a killer smile. Smart, and a nice body wouldn’t hurt. And male.

It was always at that thought that forced him to push the whole matter from his mind. There was no way a guy like that existed in the Triad, and his biggest fear was that he would receive his envelope and a woman’s name would stare back at him, and he would know then that he was fated to be alone forever.

He never did visit the Cipher.

[notsilentlyjudging]

Odd Man Out

@taka-yee

Takada tried to stretch out his leg as stealthily as possible. The ceremony had yet to begin due to what was reported as 'dressing room complications' and he was starting to get restless. Maybe a little conversation would help..? He leaned forward, toward the only person who seemed remotely close to him in age and equally unoccupied. “So. Do you know the bride or the groom?”

Quince had really hoped no one would talk to him, but he could have no such luck. How was he supposed to explain to this guys that he didn’t know either without looking like an ass, or an idiot? That he didn’t even really belong here, and he had only accidentally walked into the wrong event center and this Hall had too many hallways and he couldn’t find his way out so here he was sitting and ready to watch a wedding hoping no one could tell otherwise.

It wasn’t like he really looked dressed for a wedding anyway.

“Ah, I uh,” he needed some kind of lie, and quick. “I was someone’s plus one. Was. As I can’t really find her anymore.”