foundationmods (
foundationmods) wrote2019-04-07 06:44 pm
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Dreamland (round 3)
[A strange house of some sort sits in the pitch black nothingness that exists around it. For those just now wandering in, they will be drawn to the building, finding it lit up in a way that it should not be. It's as if the whole area- house, yard, fence, and giant sakura tree- all give off their own light, and the newly-arrived are drawn to it like a moth to the flame.
Inside the boundary of the yard, the familiar faces of those who have passed on already will greet them. Depending on who is asked, they might give an accurate explanation. But even if they don't, one thing is clear: you don't want to leave this place. The area outside feels Dangerous, and it is probably best to stay put.
Fortunately, the house is built in an old style, and there are many rooms to explore. One room on the second floor seems locked, but the rest are open to explore as desired. The standard rooms are easy to find: kitchen, a W.C. and a bathroom, a sitting room of some sort, and a couple bedrooms (with plenty of futons for the dead to use). There are also several tatami mat rooms with nothing in them currently, but it seems like there might be some use for those rooms.
Around the house, perches for birds can be found. No birds are on them currently, though.
Sometimes Watanuki can be found in the house, but most of the time the dead will be left to their own devices. The question is, what will they do here?]
Inside the boundary of the yard, the familiar faces of those who have passed on already will greet them. Depending on who is asked, they might give an accurate explanation. But even if they don't, one thing is clear: you don't want to leave this place. The area outside feels Dangerous, and it is probably best to stay put.
Fortunately, the house is built in an old style, and there are many rooms to explore. One room on the second floor seems locked, but the rest are open to explore as desired. The standard rooms are easy to find: kitchen, a W.C. and a bathroom, a sitting room of some sort, and a couple bedrooms (with plenty of futons for the dead to use). There are also several tatami mat rooms with nothing in them currently, but it seems like there might be some use for those rooms.
Around the house, perches for birds can be found. No birds are on them currently, though.
Sometimes Watanuki can be found in the house, but most of the time the dead will be left to their own devices. The question is, what will they do here?]
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[Anon just tosses that out all carelessly, laughing back with a happy lingering flush of his own -- it's silly and definitively not how these things would work if they weren't relating their bizarre personal bestiary (or is that buffet?) to literally everything for no reason, but nobody's counting right now. In this little pocket of time and space they can do whatever they want.
He rouses himself a little from their pile of limbs and laughter to shuffle through the various types of sake they've managed to hog to themselves like the greedy novice drinkers that they are. It takes him a little while, and he goes farther into the non-sake piles present, because a dream is a good place for a full bar under a tree.
(The air and the very light itself is oddly soft and luminous here just by virtue of whatever strange magic created this place; and if Anon closes his eyes and reaches for one of the presences in him that he can finally feel again he can chase that magic, lighting everything up in shades of soft blue.)
He returns with a bottle of plum wine, which may or may not contain honey but is certainly just as sweet and cloying. He's swinging the bottle a little bit before he settles by Natsuno again, curling closer than before because although Nirrti's shadow might have been swept away in the space of merriment and ridiculous sake swigging -- it's also a good excuse to tuck himself further into all that warmth.]
Maybe this will work?
[While he waits for the verdict he leans his head over on Natsuno's shoulder, a tickle and a tumble of pink, and stares up distractedly at the tree and its flowers all limned in soul light. There's an idle thought stirring in the back of his mind that he'll chase in a moment.]
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Being farther apart for just that small period is reason enough to draw closer when Anon returns then, it's only natural. So what if it's getting progressively harder to drink this way, everything is secondary in comparison, even other acts of greed. ]
Umeshu...let's split the plum at the bottom. Drinking the whole bottle is working hard in this case.
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[It's debatable whether he even knew what the thing rolling around at the bottom of the bottle was before Natsuno pointed it out -- after all, he wasn't really paying very close attention to what the wine itself was, either. Everything here is meant for the same purpose, anyway, and for once he can let his nose lead him.
It really is like unwrapping a whole layer of gauze or film or an outright wall between himself and the world, all his senses gathering back around him like bits and pieces he forgot for a little while were missing. Or rather, he put them aside and focused; it was a little like training to be in this different world, and it helped to think of it that way.
But now he can indulge; and if being almost in Natsuno's lap at this point forces them both to slow down and draw things out, then he's going to take the time to enjoy the way their closeness fills up his senses. Anon stirs a little to help pour, something he manages more-or-less without losing contact somehow thanks to long limbs and ridiculous Infernal (or is that Protectorate?) flexibility, a soft hum accompanying the crisp splash in their cups.]
Ah, did you know... Watanuki's magic is blue? It's all blue here and pink with the flowers if I use Ichigo's powers.
[There's a beautiful blue radiance to the wine, too, ripples of expanding light. He gets distracted for a moment.]
I wonder if it's anything like yours?
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Mn? Maybe, it could just be something else we have in common. [ Kisses from this angle would be somewhat less satisfying and he's supposed to be using his mouth to drink, so he goes for a soft nuzzle instead. A beat or two passes where he just lets himself get lost in everything, including the blue luminescence around them. ]
Is your hair still pink to you?
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[His voice quiets just a little, because the last time he went drinking (the first and the last time before this, under the rain of bloody wings and the moon over the hollow echoes of the dock and the water) feels both a long time ago and somehow very close by, still. He lets himself tumble against Natsuno with a soft sound when he's pulled, curling one arm around him for stability and more contact, leaning his head against him for a moment just to soak it in.
This is a much better way to drink, even if it's getting more and more physically challenging; it's hard to keep track of his sake when Natsuno keeps touching him and he's distracted by a million and one things, but it's also everything he wants right now.]
... Mmm... [with one free hand he has to put his drink down, clear of their messy tangle of limbs before he reaches up to examine his own bangs] ... It's pink! Of course. Watanuki's magic doesn't have anything to do with my hair.
[Soft amusement, even though he checked anyway out of irresistible impulse, and he lets it move his hand up and into Natsuno's hair, too -- might as well check that, also.]
And your hair is still the same color. No magic there... Just you.
[Clearly, running his fingers through it the way he did once upon a braid is necessary, too.]
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Hey. [ His voice is so soft it's nearly a whisper lost among the sakura petals. Sliding his eyes closed and letting his arm with the umeshu drop to the ground as carefully as he can manage, he leans into the touch. ]
Yeah, and it'll always be just me. [ An unspoken promise as he lets himself be lulled into that all too familiar feeling. Braiding and flowers bombs were just the start, he can see that now. All the crazy things they talked about, planned to eat, and-ah there was that one idea. ]
But maybe I'll put highlights in it one day or something, cause I'm kind of curious too.
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The urge -- the need -- to steal more and more and more time together, piling the present and the future over the past without erasing it. All of it feels a little better and more natural somehow when it's gathered up in promises and Natsuno's arms. Touch is inevitable, simple, and he understands it. Mostly.
So he uses the hand still in Natsuno's hair to tug him down, shifts in spite of the angle to catch whispers and promises with his lips -- the kiss is softer than the sakura and warmer than their shared visions steeped in blue, deepening with the mixed sweetness of drinks and layers of new memories.]
I like it when it's just you.
[He murmurs it without pulling away. Natsuno gets to feel the pleased curve of his mouth before Anon leans back and against him again, still playing with the hair now tangled in his fingers.]
I'd like to see that, though. I bet you could find all kinds of colors in a universe like this.
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Opening one eye (let him stay half in this dreamlike state, his mind as much in the clouds as his belly is full of sake), he tries to take in the blues nearly crowded out by the pink and red. ]
I'd want you to braid it again too. Hmn, I wonder what color though...
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It's debatable whether he even needs the help at this point.]
Maybe you'd let me braid the whole thing this time?
[As if he can resist a chance to tease, even as his fingers continue to drift through strands of purple, lightly, lightly like the petals along the wind. There's some small flutters of pink resting in Natsuno's hair now that he's slowly combing out, just by coincidence, but the juxtaposition of colors makes his smile soften anyway.]
Maybe you can start with your favorite color.
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Two kisses per braid. [ Stealing one here that's more smirk than kiss. That's a fair trade he thinks, even if it's entirely unneeded. ]
My favorite color...I wonder what it is... [ Teasing of his own, even if the attempt is all silly and obvious. Soft too as he leans into the touch. ]
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[A helpless laugh at the bubbling memory (the ridiculous memory, made even more ridiculous by time and hindsight and everything about the way they are now) even as he chases Natsuno's mouth for more kisses. He'll collect on the braids later, because somehow they have all the ingredients here for that particular nostalgia trip, but it really does tickle: how many old ladies they'd probably send to their graves, and how different Natsuno's hair feels in his hands when he knows exactly what he wants.
Anon's still flushed from the kissing and the sake and the proximity but he can still feel himself warming up even more, and on impulse he plucks one of the flower petals out of Natsuno's hair and taps him on the nose with it.]
Okay, but your second favorite color then. 'Cause we can't match, or else I have to go purple, too.
[This image is ridiculous, actually, but apparently they're just like this now.]
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Yellow. [ His eyes track to the petal, his tongue brushing over his lips. He evidently wants to bite something here and it's probably not the sakura. ]
But I wouldn't mind swapping either. Ah if we did, it's too bad Shimizu is dead. Seeing me with pink hair would probably kill her all over again.
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It was something necessary, after all, for all the things he needed to do, once.
He hasn't thrown all of it away, but here and now he's wrapped up enough in everything that very little of it matters.]
A bright color, right? I want to see it.
[He'd want to see Natsuno either way, through all of the changes and fashion ventures no matter how good or inadvisable they might be, but for the moment Anon is distracted too -- by his mouth this time, he reaches out and runs a thumb over it just lightly before tugging him down for another kiss. Piling up the down payment for later braiding, obviously. That's totally what it is.
He probably could have gone through an entire round of braids at once right here, but alas, breathing means they have to do this in installments. There's a brief laugh once Anon pulls back.]
Mmm, I wouldn't be a very good Infernal if I weren't good at loopholes. [have another kiss, he's just going to keep going like this, and of course--] I like it, though. Swapping. Maybe we really will kill somebody with our hair someday?
[Maybe it'll make up for the lack of dead Shimizus. It's really too bad the Foundation couldn't pop them out like Akirens just ripe for the picking.]
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Oh are they stopping now? He's too worked up from just the last few kisses to slip back into a peaceful lull, pursing his lips as he debates if it's worth the effort to find the umeshu he placed down somewhere. Whoever says impatience isn't rewarded hasn't met these two, and he melts into the following kisses easily. ]
Then we're doing it. There has to be worlds out there that specialize in that kind of thing. You think it might be fun to use your hair then blowing someone up? [ Getting their hair done could be accomplished on practically any world, but he's veering more and more nonsensical as the night goes on. He takes the latest break in their kisses not to breathe but to locate and throw back the umeshu before he forgets it there. But hey, it'll make his kisses sweeter too. ]