They don't give a fuck about you... [Qi & Niten] Aug 7, 2011 23:49:17 GMT -5
Post by Fedafyr on Aug 7, 2011 23:49:17 GMT -5
For Your Consideration
.don't fret precious, i'm here
Pawns: Niten & Qi
.step away from the window, go back to sleep
Status: private, active
.safe from pain and truth and choice and other poison devils
Setting: Qi's farm home
.see, they don't give a fuck about you
Scene: It's a massacre.
.like i do
Night fell peacefully over the home. Blades of grass flew up under the influence of a calm breeze, carrying the scent of flowers and home cooking. It was a perfect night. The moon was pink, just barely circled in a reddening hue. The world of gray mist that he had stepped from vanished in an instant, recreated around him by a beautiful scene that could not have been more cozy. Black, plaited hair blew back in the sudden rise of wind that had not been a moment before, and he took a deep inhalation of the smell of... people. More than anything else--the flowers, the cows, the pigs, the chicken stew--there were people. Lots of people. He let the corners of his mouth slide away from one another and upward, slowly pulling his pretty lips away from those sharp, white teeth. His fingers slid up and felt the blades as they passed by the sensitive flesh of his palm.
Tonight is... an unfortunate night for you.
Pale white skin under the blood red moon, Fedafyr's beautiful red and white hakama and haori set him apart from what was buried within--the image that everyone would see tonight with blazing gold eyes and red paint. He slipped into the shadows and let his natural silence bring him down from his perch. The animals ignored his presence, soothed by him in a way that was proper for a spirit of nature, but the intellect of the wind could not be swayed in such a dull manner. The grass cried out under its scything breaths as it whispered with begging pleas for the spirit to cease. It spoke of love and devotion beyond that of the wood that ached within the house's structure--everything here was embued with the calm and nurturing positive energy that the family and its large proportions had pressed into it. But whispers were silent to him, even the parts of him that wanted to hear them were too dead tonight beneath his golden stare.
"Excuse me," The voice was soft and Fedafyr turned slowly toward it. Overwhelmed by his lust, he had missed the tiny child wandering toward him with wood in his arms. Nearly 9 or so, the big blue eyes didn't pick up on the predatory posture, but instead focused on the light reflecting off pitch black hair and illuminating soft features as the fox looked down at him. Those eyes saw the tail, and the sharply tipped ears, and he seemed to become enamoured, "Are you an animal spirit?"
The words ushered forth with a whisper of awe. The blonde hair that fell in his face and framed it blew as caressed by the wind and Fedafyr turned slowly to face him before tilting his head downward. His slitted gold eyes hued just slightly with lime green around his dilated pupils as he stared. The boy stood to just under his chest, a tall child comparably, though Fedafyr was not very large himself at 5'2". He smiled, this time without parting his soft lips. "Yes... a bit."
Stars flew through the boy's eyes, as if he had realized some greatness. He had caught an animal spirit, and from the way he was smiling, Fedafyr expected he would expect some great reward from that accomplishment. His braid flew to one side as the wind screamed silently, howling at him, spinning around the child in a way only his eyes could perceive. He reached over and grasped the red ribbon, a fragile satin strip folded and embroidered, about 2 feet in length and an inch thick, with flowers along the sides. He grasped the tip of his braid and pulled it free, one brief stroke of his fingers untying and loosening it from the black strands, and seemingly a magic hand that folded it into his palm before he held it out to the child in front of him, who glowed brightly. The child took it, chittering slightly, "Now, shhh," Fedafyr put one sharp finger to those pretty lips, "We must be quiet." He stepped around the corner of the house, leaving the child alone with the ribbon, straying behind just slightly as Fedafyr let himself in through an upper roof with one silent bound.Be quiet little children;
As quiet as can be--
Hide beneath your covers,
Just in case he’ll see.
Hold your breath, sweet children.
Be as quiet as a mouse.
Listen, in case he’s creeping
There inside your house...
The red moon cast its light upon the pretty house without any care for its screaming tenants. The wind did dance around the grass in its mourning, but everything else lay still. The stars still twinkled, uninterested at the horror they praised, and the farm looked as if all were asleep from any passer-by. A little blond boy clutched a ribbon, staring up in the dark, happy that the clawed fingers had switched off the lights so he could not see the lifeless stares of the bodies around him. He barely breathed except to hiccup quietly in the darkness when he could no longer hold silence to the sobs. He did not let his eyes leave the shadow that walked carelessly across the room, leaving red footprints across the wood floor as he carefully set the house to rest in his calm pass. As if minutes before, the fox had not buried his arm casually into the chest cavity of the young blond's father and pulled his spine forward enough to rip the flesh around the white bones as they pressured their way through, then left him while he watched to writhe in pain upon the floor and bleed out, purposely missing the vital organs that would have quickened the pace. The light that shone through the window in square rays caught his soft green eyes as they calmly perused his work, blood staining his white haori almost completely red and marring the beautiful cherub face.
He stepped toward the child and reached down, and though the boy flinched, he did not have enough willpower to run from beneath the angelic gaze turned on him, "Shh, Gara," His voice came out smooth as he ran bloodsoaked fingers through the blond tresses of hair, pushing them back from the boy's forehead, leaving a red streak where the blood slipped from his hands and tainted the pretty child's skin. He leaned down and pressed his soft lips to the trembling cheek as he wrapped his arms around the stiffened and uneasy body. As Fedafyr lifted him, the child went lax, trembling and dissolving into tears and clinging to the kitsune even as he knew that it was wrong. Unable to process all the hatred and fear he felt, he transferred everything he had into the comfort of the arms that picked him up, and Fedafyr began a slow ascent up the stairs. Without effort, he walked slowly up toward the bedrooms, choosing which one belonged to the child based on its scent and lack of occupation. The nine year old continued to hold tightly for passing minutes, and Fedafyr let him calm before settling him down into the comfort of his bed and watching him curl inward and wrap himself around the pillow.
"Shh, it's not your fault." He spoke softly in whispers, standing beside the bed for a few more minutes as he slowly ran his fingers over and over through the child's hair, the red stain becoming equally as much a part of his fingers as they were of the others hair. The light in the room cast about an eerie glow as the fox comforted the child for the next ten minutes, letting his sobs stop before the man stood straight up again. His eyes glanced around the room, happy to see no blight had come to it besides the one bloody handprint on the child's sheets and his footprints across the floor.
One witness for the crime.
The child dared to turn and watch the fox spirit walk calmly to his windowsill, where he moved into it with such a grace that it seemed as if he floated. Everything that happened should have been a dream, he thought, for the briefest of moments. He would awaken and nothing would be real--but the hope disappeared as those green eyes turned back just as the fox was about to drop, and he felt his heart stop. That glance back, with those eyes, promised that everything was very real. He could not understand then, why the creature looked so lovely in the window, or why he didn't want him to leave, even as he wished he never existed. The beautiful spirit disappeared from his window and left him alone in his silent, dark home. He turned toward the wall and stared at it, unmoving, barely blinking, focusing on the unmarred wooden slats that the moon illuminated with white, brilliant light. This piece of his world that was unscarred. This part that was still whole.
Fedafyr slipped from this world back into the mists, sliding his tongue over the back of his hand and across the end of his fingertips. He turned his head upward toward the sky as it emptied of its presumed shape and gave way to the dark and twisting colors of the unformed chaos.