Welcome to Gaia! ::

<MAIN THREAD>










A rather non-descript book lies at your fingertips, soft brown leather scuffed and scarred from years of love. Uneven leaves of washi paper grace the inside. A woody, earthy smell wafts up from it, and a small antique lock in the shape of a bird's wing holds its secrets close.

Beside the book - it's no bigger than your hand - lies a brush set and ink for calligraphy, and a half open fan.

<"Falcon Perched on a Red Lacquer Stand" by Hokusai>


Welcome to Taka's Journal! This is where her achievements, developments, hopes and dreams will be chronicled.

Sometimes the story will be told directly in Taka's words, and sometimes it will be narrated more from Sarielle's point of view. Hopefully, it will give a better picture of her personality this way.


Who is Welcome:
+ All other Heralds owners may post, but in character please.
+ Faithful stalkers - you know who you are!
+ All RP started here will be assumed to take place at Sarielle's house; so be sure to "enter" accordingly.

Post Colour:
+ First-person narration by Taka will take place in her signature colour(s).
+ Normal narration will take place in black.

Towards the back of the journal, a few photographs are taped in with care. It's almost as if the one keeping the journal didn't want others to know they were there.

Taka's room is spacious and neatly kept. The wooden floor is glossy, and warm from hot water pipes that run below it. The outside wall is also panelled in wood, with a generous window that looks out onto an untamed forest.

The bed is a pallet on the floor. Several blankets in jewel colours and archaic patterns are piled on in the winter. Beside the pillow sits the music box Kai gave her, as though perhaps Taka lets its tinkling notes lull her to sleep.

A low chest sits against the wall opposite the bed. A hairbrush and a few other toiletry items she keeps inside the drawers. Blood's gift to her, a snowglobe, also nestles somewhere within the depths.

A screen gives privacy for changing; and houseplants bring a bit of extra cheer to the room filled with shades of brown.

The overall impression is neutral, but restive. It is not a room one would expect a child to desire - though little has been changed since that time - but Taka picked most of the items herself.

The most striking feature of the room is the ornate set of wooden doors.

Music Box
Taka keeps it by her bed and lets it play her to sleep.



Snowglobe
It sits on Taka's dresser.



A Tasty Treat
Sarielle did NOT eat it all by herself. >.>



Stuffed Rabbit
This rabbit went everywhere Taka did as a child. Now ragged and dirty, Taka still keeps it in a drawer with her other treasures.



Basket of Roses
For Valentine's Day!



Witch Ball
This hangs over Taka's bed. The strands inside are supposed to catch evil spirits and prevent them from being able to harm the owner of the ball.



Cake
Woo hoo, cake! And some that Taka actually gets to eat this time. xP

The Sacrifice
Stage: Fallen Messenger



The sky overhead was of the richest, darkest blue, and inlaid with millions of stars. The moon glared cold and large. Sarielle flapped her arms up and down in a vain attempt to increase circulation and warm her limbs.

A few tiny snowflakes drifted past her cheek, but she knew it was only blowing off the trees; it was far too cold to snow tonight.

Sarielle was grateful for at least one thing, though: she'd forgotten her flashlight, and the moon lit the path beneath her feet. What shadows there were lay jagged and harsh against the snow, a forest of black branches crisscrossing the white expanse. A slight unease hung in the crystal-cold air; and Sarielle wondered if maybe walking home from the Winter Festival by herself had been such a good idea.

She didn't believe in premonitions; but she did believe that humans retained an animal instinct that warned them of danger and unseen presences. The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end, and she found that her eyes were darting wildly in all directions.

Oh god. Was that a glow off to her right?

Her first instinct, honestly, was to run screaming like a little girl, and pray that she made it to her house in one piece. But like so many times before, her thoughts jolted to the camera that she carried in her purse, and she wrestled the instinct down. She was a journalist; and it seemed there was, just possibly, a story to tell.

Choosing her footing carefully to avoid any unnecessary crackling of twigs, Sarielle crept off the worn path and in amongst the trees themselves. Yes, certainly there was a distinct glow just beyond a small rise in the ground. She would almost have sworn it was just moonlight, had it not been for the bluish tint to the light.

Just 10 more steps till she?d be over the rise; now just five. Now three, now one, and at last she saw it. But it was nothing like she had expected.

Before here in a small clearing lay a figure bathed in soft beams of light and lying completely naked in the snow. It resembled a human with long white hair; but Sarielle knew this could be no human.

A few pristine feathers whispered across the snow in the cold breeze. Sarielle knelt beside the figure, unaware, really, of her own actions. One of the feathers blew up in her face and lodged among the strands of her hair. Could this be...? No, of course not! But...

With a supreme effort, the - dare she think it...angel? - rose to its knees, and Sarielle realized that the body lacked all sexual definition. It placed one hand against the large flat stone it lay beside, and attempted, without success, to hoist itself up. For the first time, she met its eyes, and saw a soul without hope.

Sarielle's first impulse was to reach and help; but for a moment, she hesitated. What would touching it do to her? And perhaps it wouldn't take kindly to assistance...

"Will you let me help you?" Sarielle murmured. And slowly, inexorably, it turned to look at her again. Except this time, there was a slight smile on its face; and the only thing she could think of was how beautiful it was.

She took it gently by the arms and lifted it until it could stand. It was much lighter than she'd expected, and much to her distress, even that slight grip seemed to cause it pain.

"I'm sorry," Sarielle said then, but it fell exhaustedly onto the flat stone without looking at her again. For one horrified moment, she suspected that her touch had killed it. Then the fingers of one hand fluttered toward the pocket of her coat.

Reaching her hand inside, Sarielle's fingers closed around the fan that she'd bought while covering the Winter Festival. She hadn't been certain she'd use it in her article, anyway, so she'd done a bit of shopping while she was there.

The fan was all she had in her pocket. Could that honestly be what it wanted? She drew it out and put it in the grasping fingers. It briefly flared blue, and then was gone.

Sarielle waited almost an hour more, until she could no longer feel her hands and feet. It hadn't moved again. Maybe, regardless of her efforts to help, it was dead.

Slowly she rose and retrieved her camera from where she'd dropped in when she'd knelt. Feeling uncomfortably ghoulish, she never-the-less snapped a photograph, unwilling to lose something so beautiful completely. With that, she slowly backed away and went home, her footsteps slow and her thoughts pensive.

Blood walked to the door of the house. She smiled and walked up the pathway to the door. She decided not to knock but instead just to leave the gift on the doorstep for Sari to find. She placed a small box on the doorsteps and placed a letter ontop of it.



Inside the package was a delecate snowglobe. The snow looked more realistic then just plastic chunks, and tiny silver sparkles swirled around. When you shook the globe the watcher became slightly misty and sparkly with a kind of shiney liquid that managed to sink to the bottom when it wasnt shaken up.

Kamui wandered through crowded strrets squinting at his mothers handwriting. The woman was a genius with most things but she just couldn't write! He shook his head and stopped front of a rather large house, the numbers matched those written on the scrap of papper he held. Scowling he climbed the steps and dropped the small package on the doorstep and knocked loudly. He wasn't about to stick around and see if he'd gotten it right and so the elf bolted.

Inside the package was a plushie:

Tokki and Bunnie walk up to Sarielle and Taka's house. They ring the doorbell but it seems that seems that no one is home again. *hee hee hee*

Tokki found a key hiding in a rock, so she opened the door and walked it. She made sure not to disturn anything since Bunnie was waiting for her outside. Tokki walked to the kitchen and then slowly put down a basket filled with roses.



Bunnie and Tokki wish Sarielle and Taka a very berry Happy Valentine's Day!