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06 July 2009 @ 01:12 pm
Yui stared down into her fourth.... or was it sixth?... beer of the evening and wondered what she could possibly tell her friends about the events of the day and what it meant.  She was tired, so tired of lying, but what more could she do?

You could tell them the truth, Hongo Yui, a cool echo flowed through her mind, and she shivered.  Seiryuu.  She had not heard that voice for so long.  How odd that it took falling headfirst into booze to bring the memory of it back.  So what if she was a sodden, drunken mess?  She could tell Hana and Shiori the truth, and if they doubted her sanity- well, she could always pass it off as alcoholic-fueled ramblings.

"Once upon a time," she began, because all stories started that way and she could think of nothing better in her current state, "there were two middle school students.  The girls had been best friends forever, although they couldn't be more different.  One of the girls was kind, loving, and enthusiastic.  The other was insecure, jealous, and afraid.  Nevertheless, they were ordinary girls until the day they found an old Chinese book in the library and opened it up.  What happened next," here she paused to hiccup, "changed their lives forever."

And so she told them the story of the Universe of the Four Gods, the seishi, the romance between Tamahome and Miaka, of her stupidity in being manipulated by Nakago, and of the earnest but damaged Suboshi, who was caught in a web of love and destruction.  She spared none of the details, and did not try to make her actions appear better than they had been.  It was her confession, she realized.  Never once had she told anyone the whole story from beginning to end.

She could not look at her friends during the retelling.  She kept her eyes and hands firmly on the glass bottle before her, afraid of what she would find in their expressions.  She shook without realizing it when she spoke of being devoured by the god, but other than that, she kept her emotions firmly in check.

Once the telling was done, she paused for a moment to take a sip of the beer, now warm from being clutched in her hands, before continuing to the events of earlier that evening.  She spoke of her fear at finding a man waiting for her in her apartment, and the strange conversation they had shared. 

"Somehow, he knew who I was.  He called me the miko.  And.... and he left me the book."

01 July 2009 @ 08:51 am
Seiran, after making his way back to the table they had abandoned in all the chaos, chivalrously pulled out the chair for Jai. Ever the gentleman, he waited for her to sit down so that they could finish their conversation. There was so many things he wanted to know about her and he knew that father would come looking for him soon.

He had to ask Jai the important questions first so that when his father finally found him, Seiran would know why they were remembering so much of their previous lives. He just hoped his father didn't discover where he was any time soon.

"Jai, do you think there is a reason why we are beginning to remember more about our past lives?" He asked curiously.
15 May 2009 @ 09:22 pm
Tasuki sauntered down the road that lead out of town with her hands comfortably laced behind her head. She was staring at the sky, her mind wandering to all sorts of different places. Some made up, some real.

Different expressions played over her features as she ran through ideas and stories in her head, dissmissing some and silently acting out others. Suddenly Tasuki's lips pursed and her brow furrowed.

"Hey Lilly, whattya think this guy's house looks like? Think it might be haunted?" She put a finger to her lips and thought hard on the subject. "Or maybe he's got maids...Gasp!" she actually said 'gasp'. She held out her hands in front of her either to ward off the possibility, or paint a frame around the image in her head. It was hard to tell. "What if we fall into a trap and he drugs us into believing we work for him!"
28 February 2009 @ 10:16 pm
A circle of bar-flies buzzed over something on the floor Toroki couldn't see. Leaving Shi Tian to fend for himself, Toroki moved to investigate. She had managed to get close enough to see a man attempting to revive another man on the floor who looked as dead and gone as one could be. People moved in to get a closer look and crowded her back. Toroki frowned and let it happen, stepping away and back to her travel partner. Her eyes narrowed and she looked to the door. It was just closing on empty air. Her frown deepened.
The room was still, but far from dark. Yellowed cement walls closed in on all sides. There was a jangle of keys and then a harsh metal sound. Under the hanging bulb the thick metal doors groaned opened Yanlou smiled. The noise had woken up a few of the prison's occupants. He could hear scuffling, metal clangs, shouting, all echoing down the long corridor and melting into one sound.

He tossed the key ring back to the desk. They landed next to the slumped blue-clad figure. Yanlou stepped into the depths of the prison. More men had woken up, most prisoners stood hanging on their bars straining to see what the commotion was about. Yanlou walked farther in. Heads turned as wary eyes watched the slender man invade their holding facility. The noise had died down, men guilty of terrible crimes all quiet in the presence of this single figure in a tailored black suit. They could sense something awe inspiring, feel the death that ran through the man's veins.

Once a hush had fallen over the prisoners Yanlou held out his hands. "Does anyone wish to confess?"


"Seventeen found dead today at a park near-


"I'm standing here with an eye witness who says they saw everyone just collapse."


"..at Covenwood state correctional facility.."

"..A mysterious illness."


"Specialists are investigating these crimes."

Taka sighed and switched off the TV. He threw down the remote and stared out the window. People were milling around down on the street, there were too many cars around for the early hour. Mysterious deaths, unexplained fatal illnesses, mass murders. The news was overflowing with stories, but all you had to do was look out the window to see the panic that had stricken the city. International travel had been stopped temporarily. Japan was being quarantined until further notice, but international news had similar stories. Hundreds just dropping dead of seemingly nothing.

Where was Miaka? Where was Yui? This had to be linked to the book. Something wrong was going on in the story and ripping the real world apart. It must be something like that. He had no other explanation and the cause for all the destruction was currently MIA. He scrubbed a hand over his face and glanced at his phone. Miaka would call if anything went wrong. Taka resisted the urge to dial her or Yui.
22 January 2009 @ 09:01 pm
Toroki glared at her travel partner. He was currently hauling a few pounds of steal on his back, a matching load to her own. Several weeks of traveling together and he still insisted on trying to carry her load when they set off. Kagasuki chocked it up to kindness, the boy's intent on pleasing his employer. Toroki knew better. The warrior of Byakko snorted.

"You're looking tired." she observed as he walked past Shi Tian, "Need a rest?"

They had been walking since early morning and had yet to take a break even as the stars were opening their eyes on twilight. Both of them looked pretty worn, but Toroki wasn't about to admit that she would love a good round drinks and a table to rest her feet on. Stubbornness had their shipment of swords already two days ahead of schedule.
23 December 2008 @ 01:57 pm
A floor board creaked as Bohai stepped into the inn, holding the door for the monk and Tasuki to follow. Fairly empty and dimly lit, the establishment obviously expensive, but it lacked that seedy feeling that some inns seemed to pride themselves on. The nameless kitten weaved it's way through his feet and climbed up his back. Bohai winced slightly and tapped the kittens nose.

Noticing the possibility of new costumers the old woman behind the bar put on a false smile and offered a large greeting, "Welcome, welcome what can I do for," As she notices her regular accompanied by a monk and a young boy her face falls, as does her attitude. She smirks and continues, "Oh, its you. Back so soon? I thought you had enough for one day...Ha. Who do I kid, you never have enough." She busies herself setting out a bottle of sake and some bowls. 

Bohai narrows his eyes at the woman and holds up his hand, "No thank you." The woman stares at him as if this idea is too hard for her to comprehend.

The singer finished and then took a rather theatrical bow before disappearing off the rickety stage. Cheng felt his body slump as soon as he was out of sight of the audience. He'd been traveling with this particular troupe of entertainers for some time now and while he did enjoy performing it was draining after awhile. He stepped out of the ladies shoes he wore for this particular costume and then made his way to his tent. They were scheduled to remain here in this small town for another three days before moving on to the next. Cheng smiled at his fellow performers as they hurried past each other and then slipped into his tent, tying the flap behind him.

A motion caught his eye and he turned to see his reflection staring at him from the mirror that he sat in front of before most of his performances. Tonight he we dressed as an elegant lady, his feminine features carefully and tastefully made up. With such clothes and makeup, not to mention his hair brushed and twisted up carefully he often felt as though he'd been a woman in a past life. Tonight he had sung as Jia Hai, his female alias. Other nights he performed as Cheng, doing acrobatics and feats of strength. The troupe had been thrilled to meet him years ago when he was working on his own. They'd been more than welcoming and never laughed at him when he was dressed as Jia Hai. Instead they treated him as family, which meant so much to him with his own family having been gone since he was a child.

Cheng changed into a comfortable robe and began taking down his hair to brush it out and plait into a simple braid. When that was done he washed his face and then glanced at his reflection again. He was back to his simple self but as always there was a curious feeling that something was missing.

Shaking his head he stood and found a comfortable set of pants and a tunic and dressed quickly. He did have to search a minute for his normal shoes and finally after tossing several pieces of clothing around the tent he found one under his pallet and the other in the pocket of another robe. His stomach rumbled and he decided to go to a tavern in search of something to eat, and perhaps something to drink.

14 November 2008 @ 07:26 pm

Billowing clouds drifted to and fro amidst the endless expanse of the clear morning skies, flecks of gold sparkled across the tiny waves of a clear mountain lake, and the soft pink blossoms of the cherry trees danced in the winds . Inside the dim and dilapidated inn, Yu Bohai saw none of it. A large muscular man, Bohai could have been considered ruggedly handsome, save for a deep sadness. With deep green hair spiked this way and that simple yet tattered clothing, he usually did his best to go unnoticed. Reaching forward his fingers scratched at the ear of a white and tan cat as he mumbled with a deep smooth voice, “Tell me kitty, how do you go from doctor to drunk?”

An overweight old woman with a craggy face of countless wrinkles shook her long spindly finger at him as she answered him with disdain, “Because all you do is drink. You had good job, pretty wife and two sons. But you drink. All you do is sit in here and drink, so you they leave. Did you even notice? Hah, you are a worthless drunk, but you make me rich.” The woman cackled and with a twisted grin, she turned her back to the large man.

Sneering Bohai tossed back the remaining liquid in his cup. Standing, he tossed a few coins, no tip, onto the surface of the worn counter. Wavering back and forth, he inwardly cringed at the pain in his leg. The white cat stood and offered a mew of concern, which earned a small smile from Bohai. The counter creaked as he leaned on the counter, getting some of the weight off of his sore leg. He reached aside his stool and produces a knobby walking stick. Steadying himself he leaves with an slow, limping gate. Tama, not inclined to stay with the bar keep, stood and after a long luxurious stretch hopped down to the dusty floor and followed his person out the door. The sunlight was blinding. It burned more than the cheep sake, but his eyes adjusted.

Bohai scanned the surroundings of the small mountain community. It was picturesque and peaceful to the naked eye, but all Bohai saw was suspicious glares and looks of disdain. Once a respect doctor that traveled throughout the local mountain communities, he had fallen a long way. The old woman was right, he was little better now than the town drunk. A lonely and bitter man, who cared for no one, save some mangy stray cat. Choosing his path he made his way to the outskirts of town, Tama close on his heels. The houses and small farms soon gave way to forest. As winding stone path led him to a small waterfall clearing. A small polished statue stood at the apex of the cliff. With some difficulty Bohai managed to make his way to the shrine and smeared. Tama paced and twisted between his feet as he mumbled a small prayer and tossed a couple coins at the base. He then looked at the palm of his left hand regarding the red mark carefully. Finally he turned to the stone bird and asked quietly, “What the hell were you thinking?!”

Current Mood: confusedconfused
14 November 2008 @ 08:38 am
Running an art gallery was usually an easy job. Today was not one of those days, however. A class of fifth graders had come through on a school field trip and caused havoc; loud voices, playing with some of the mechanized sculptures, food, drinks, and a child vomited on a pedestal which held a bust of a roman god. Hana Kowalski was not having a good day, which meant that she needed to go and have a few beers and maybe a late dinner with her friends Shiori and Yui.

Hana sighed in relief as she finally locked the gallery doors; no more children, no more complaining, snooty people who only care about how they look instead of the art they come to view, and especially no more dealing with the week's featured artist. The frail old woman seemed to like having a panic attack every morning when the next in the series of artworks was to be unveiled--it drove Hana insane.

Hopping into her car, Hana flipped open her cell and punched in Masako Shiori's number, and then put the phone to her ear as she pulled out into traffic. "Come on, Shiori, answer the phone."