#the-children

[reikomizuno]

Re͢d̷ ̸lips o҉f ̢a ̴Luc҉ky ̷f͜ox.̢ How ͟muc̶h bl͢o͘od͏ ̷sta҉i͟n̢s͜ ͞tḩem̢?̛ Do y̵ou ̵r͘emem͡be͢r ̨how m͡u͜c̀h̵ ͢f͞un w͝e haḑ ͟ţo͠geth̶e̕r҉? Alway͟s͏ b̧a̵ck ̶in t̨i͝me ̸for ou͡r ͏t͜éa pa̷r̵tíe̢s̨. De͜ad̴ o̕ne͟s ̢a̷lway͝s̨ m̀a͢k͟e̡ ͝f͘o͝r͠ pl͟ea͘sant̡ ͘gu̡ests, ḑon't t̡h̸e͝y͢?̕ No̢ ͡spìll̵s.͞ ͞No̢ ̕co͞mp̶l͝ai͘n̨t͜s. ̡J̶u̶st́ ̕p̛e͏a̵ce. We͞ w͜i͡ll s̵t͏op͞ by̷ ̡şo͜on͝.͝

It was late in the night as all the lights of the teahouse were dimmed, almost to a full stop besides a few key areas where the family stood guard or patrolled often. The raindrops hit the windows, perhaps a rather rare sight for Kugane, making the woman open her eyes slowly. A hand reached, the candles being lit one by one till she could see the room. Just, her usual room, where she often slept alone, spent her free time to continue her research and relax with a nice cup of tea.

Tea...

Feet dangled from the bed to slide into the slippers, long, red, silk morning robe got slid on to her warm body still waking up who knows for what reason?

Re͢d̷ ̸lips o҉f ̢a ̴Luc҉ky ̷f͜ox.̢ How ͟muc̶h bl͢o͘od͏ ̷sta҉i͟n̢s͜ ͞tḩem̢?̛

The woman quirked a brow looking around with sleepy eyes, brows slowly furrowed, hands coming to a stall as she measured the tealeaves. "... Hello?"

Do y̵ou ̵r͘emem͡be͢r ̨how m͡u͜c̀h̵ ͢f͞un w͝e haḑ ͟ţo͠geth̶e̕r҉? Alway͟s͏ b̧a̵ck ̶in t̨i͝me ̸for ou͡r ͏t͜éa pa̷r̵tíe̢s̨.

She blinked as the child like whispers continued in the room. True she had some some shady research on void in her time, seeking out certain cures and exorcism rituals, but nothing recent to attract any kind of spirit...? Certainly not in the teahouse.

De͜ad̴ o̕ne͟s ̢a̷lway͝s̨ m̀a͢k͟e̡ ͝f͘o͝r͠ pl͟ea͘sant̡ ͘gu̡ests, ḑon't t̡h̸e͝y͢?̕ No̢ ͡spìll̵s.͞ ͞No̢ ̕co͞mp̶l͝ai͘n̨t͜s. ̡J̶u̶st́ ̕p̛e͏a̵ce.

That made her chuckle, a sigh escaping her lips, a loud one. "You don't know what you are talking about, child," she responded finally, head shook, attention turning back to the job at hand; making herself a nice, warm, cup of tea.

"These are the hands of a healer, never shed any blood. Friend of foe I never let anyone die on my table as long as I could help it," she finally said, a sad smile curling her lips. "Any lost life was always with someone mourning for them, never passing with feeling of alone. You have the wrong person, or the wrong assumption about me." The water was poured into the pot and she reached for the teacups, then walked to the kotatsu kept in the room, one of her favouring things in the room as she liked to keep warm all bundled under its blankets, and the table attached to it made it perfect to study or have some tea..

One cup... then two...

"Not a kid drink, but here," she smiled as she filled the teacups with the fragrant tea. Her hands reached for the bamboo box that was left on the table to open it, and placed a few colourful mochi sweets next to it. It was a custom in these lands, wasn't it, leaving food for the dead? "Enjoy," she said outloud, looking around in the room, a small sip taken from her own cup.

@the-children

[theron-darksunder]

Ḩ̙͖a̳̩̥̤̹v̵͎͎̥͉͕e̬̺̕ ̙̯y͈̕o̗̪̤̥͙̻͠ͅu̖̯̥ͅ ̘͎̘͜f̱e̠̤͓͕̦̩l̡̼̙͍̦͍ͅţ͚̹͔ ͙̩͚̜͚i͓t̨̫̺̗̝̠ y͇̥͇͖̘̟͡e̛̼t͕̬̙̹͢?̭̼̘͇̗͙̺͞

He was no stranger to voices that whispered only tohim.  The ability to listen to the dead,to communicate with the spirits, and to raise corpses only seemed to draw themto him.  So many messages were given tohim to deliver to the living, so many messages that he brushed aside lest helet the talkative masses drive him to insanity. He protected his mind from these boisterous whispers, shielded so hardagainst them so that he was numb save for the very few.  The fewthat filtered through.

He had always been prone to certain Eldritch beings.  There were powerful entities thatbroke through his defenses and left him basking in an unearthly shadow.  The Faceless had done it before.  The Veiled Seven had always and would always speak to him.  Now this.  The touch of another voice making itshome within his mind heralded trouble. New voices were never good, even for those that always heard them.

He turned, ears flicking back and forth as if trying to makesense of the question, as if he could follow the sound of the voice that filteredthrough his mind to its origin.  He couldnot.  It was in his head and that initself sent a small chill run down his spine. What had he felt?

“Seek your fool and puppet elsewhere. I will not be toyedwith again for silly little games of chess between bored Gods.  Make your offer and pray tell what I should be feeling.”