Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hinoe sighed, irritated at the inability to speak and having to convey things in other forms. Slowly she shook her head, shoulders rising and fallen as her digits released their hold on him to face the heavens. Hinoe's hands fell then, at her sides, helpless as that form of hers leaned into him. Couldn't he see, how he confused the s**t out of her?

I don't know... She seemed to be saying before gently tilting that head of hers toward him. A hand rose, digit prodding his shoulder, then to her head, only to be followed by the other hand. Instantly the ten digits curled, and faced one another as if to mention tension, to convey her own frustration. Again she pointed at him, then her head, the other hand coming to rest againt her chest before allowing them to come together again, this time the digits wiggling as if they were raking through thick fog. You confuse me. Here...and here... I can't make it out...

Again, another heavy sigh escaped Hinoe's form as she thought, desperately, of a way to show him without words what it was he did. Gently she pulled at his hand, brought it close to her lips, then quickly shoved it away before pointing a finger at him acussatorily. You do that, to me. Always.

By now she was pointing at herself, digits dancing before spreading to gesture the place around them. Always.

Oh, how she wanted to cry, to scream, to shake him .. and yet she couldn't. Again, she shook her head, the unpleated strands of hair to caress her cheek. How was she to know anything when he kept her in a constant state of confusion?

Now it was Hinoe's turn to be confused. She watched, horrified, as he took out his cigarettes and flung them into the distance. What did that have to do with anything? How the hell did he get 'cigarettes are bad' from her gestures? Leave it to Sai'gare, always seeking to find multiple, deeper meanings behind everything because, well, a woman couldn't love a woman if it didn't mean she had some weird, deep rooted hatred toward her father!

Those wolven eyes remain locked on the strewn pack of cigarettes, brows lifted in question, lips pouted as if to say something. In fact, she had begun to move toward the discarded container of death he pulled her again, firmly.

What was she to say? Obviously, the harder she tried to tell him anything, the more he didn't understand. Hinoe was at her wit's end, frustrated and at the verge of tears. What did lung cancer have anything to do with what she needed to know?

Can we be together now? Slowly did she lift her gaze to meet his, those fingertips of hers gently caressing the loud thumping upon his chest. Again she was picked up in another whirlwind of emotions, the desire to convey and inability to express correctly making things difficult. The unbandaged hands shifted, turning a palm of his to face her. Delicately, that hand of his was pressed upon her own chest as well, maybe, just maybe, he could understand the way her own heart thumped wildly at his touch.

Slowly, did she nod, and prayed to the Gods that she had not misunderstood again.

Oh, so that's what that was about! Tsukei'chi's face broke into one of silent laughter as she pulled away to slap herself in the forehead. Oh, Sai'gare, that silly, silly man. The girl shook her head, laughing almost in hysterics. She couldn't believe her ears-- what was it he had just said?

The soundless laugh-fest subsided as she focused that teary gaze at him once more. She smiled, still and held up a finger as if to make him wait before chasing after the cursed pack of cigarettes only to return again. Those digits carefully placed the container where it belonged, before slipping her hands about his form. A firm, though loving embrace was then offered, her face burrowing itself against his neck as to deliver a contented sigh against his neck.

She didn't care if he smoked or not -- Tsukei'chi loved Sai'gare for who he was. He didn't have to change for her to accept him. She didn't want him to change because of he thought he wanted him to either. Slowly, she pulled away, a hand gently cupping his face, her thumb caressing his lips.

Oh, how she loved him..

Again, she nodded, a gentle pout upon her lips.

"...Yes... please keep it safe..." he had whispered though he strongly doubted that the man had even heard him. He kept silent and still amidst the grown chaos and reached along the surface of the table, his nails drawing harsh lines in it. But he made a soft sound as a sharp tip was snapped and blood trickled and squirted over his front. But he seemed content to suck on the digit while watching Elexial in his departure before he flicked a splatter of blood on the tatami.

The flexible little form twisted impossibly and he contorted himself in a manner that caused the soft cracking of bone while he carefully wiped away the blood from the tatami and only found he was smearing it in. He giggled softly, an eerie echoing sound, and drew to his feet as they spoke.

Like a shambling marionette, he wandered over to the nearest wall and began his work once more. He'd be scolded for spreading his work over to the rest of the shrine, but there was so much to be done and so many had decided to gather to lean over his shoulder and observe. Of course, they were unseen as they slid their dead fingers along the small of the boy's sensitive back. He shivered in some twisted form of ecstasy and moaned against the wall as he promptly drew a vivid line with the blackness taken from the own matter along the corner and drew out the word, 'Hope' and 'Shrill'. Oddly, the fragile boy curled up in the corner a moment before rolling over toward the lot of them. He drew to his feet complacently and spoke in a soft whisper.

"...I'm hungry..."

But, rather than linger with the hope of receiving food or listen to the sex-driven insanity that was occuring, he quietly stepped lightly toward the corridor intent on following Elexial, his delicate and rounded hips asway as if intoxicated by an unheard melody. And like a child's eerie culling song, he began to hum along several notes. They weren't going to give him attention or seek to understand. But he seemed very happy, as he glanced back to look for Sai'gare.

"...I wonder... if he will take care of you... he ought to... it could mean great misfortune not to... but... it is good... to see him... I think he's pretty... No, no... I know that you are all much more beautiful... we all rot and die... and wither under the weight of our turmoils... but... its okay... its... alright..." he managed. He continued to gently sway down the corridor, however... despite his thoughts and concern.

A perceptive enough eye might note the faint static barrage that shrouded along the boy as he walked and the waver of the air that followed as if the ghost-like monstrosities were keen on trying to haunt and terrorize the boy... but to find such things within the shrine? Still.. that faint static was still apparant in his natural darkness as the shreds of his once beautiful kimono dragged along the floor while he walked. Tetsuya had decided that it was too early to return to his room and get lost within the temptations offered there.

He wanted to play with Elexial.

And he didn't dare hesitate to begin wandering in search for him. He dragged himself along, the faint jingling of the chain about his waist had been enforced by another priest at some time. This was likely because the child had a strange habit of appearing behind people and scaring them to an early death. Of course, an exaggeration, but he was still frightening at times with all that long black hair in his face and those large, expressionate doll-eyes.

He drew something from the side of his yukata fold and produced a freshly cut, slightly yellowed doll. He held it between two fingers and whispered beyond audible sound into the little doll and it flung forward as if posessed by a dormant gust of wind and he hurried after it while it flew from hall to hall.

He would find him... it only took the scent of blood and delusion.

((Oh, come now. No need to feel out of place. -Prod.- There are a lot of people who are even better than I am. We all work here to learn from eachother. If you're really that concerned just stick around for a while. We'll rub off on you.))

Tsukei'chi nodded gently, eager to twist away from his prying eyes as to keep the sudden blush that creeped across that bronzed skin a secret from him. After all, she could feel his eyes just staring at that ample bosom.

With one hand, she pulled the neckline of that robe open just enough for her other hand to reach in and fish the notebook out. A moment later she turned again, placing that notebook agianst his chest for her to write on.

Gold-grey eyes lifted up to meet his at his second comment. Tempted, she was, to smack him upside the head for being so lewd, but in the end she simply rolled her eyes and went back to the writing. Upon finishing it was her digits that gently tucked the piece of paper betwixt his lips, a slightly devilish smile playing upon hers.

I love you, simply, for who you are and that is all that matters. I don't care if you smoke or not -- but I do care if you go around with other womenfolk. I'll kill you and make you gag on your own goods.

And she would. Hinoe Tsukei'chi most definately would.

((Haha. Thanks for the comfort, Re-verse! Sorry, I'm too lazy to type that out backward.))

As Kanaku moved closer to the presence, he began to grow aware of the other members that currently occupied the shrine. Emotions ran rampant within its rooms, and the rice paper walls only just concealed the rooms' occupants. The shadows and sillhouettes of those within shone in sharp relief on the thin doors and walls, cast into flickering view by lanterns and candles. Smells of incense and scented candles reached his nostrils, as well as things that were far less.....pleasant.

Is that blood? he wondered in uncomfortable surprise as a metallic, earthy scent found its way to his nose. Thoughts ran through his head as to just what such a substance would be used for, and in such abundance as to be this fragrant. None of the results he came up with were comforting, so he pushed the thought aside, deciding some things were better left unknown.

Continuing through the halls, his ears managed to pick out individual noises amongst the dim and dismal whisperings; the sounds of instruments being played, the laughter of those who hid behind the rice paper walls, and somewhere distant--so far away, in fact, that it may not even be in the temple at all--a high-pitched, shrill scream of terror that caused chills through Kanaku even as he walked.

You needn't be so afraid. After all, you've lived here all your life, have you not? Sakuya's voice seemed loud in the silence of Kanaku's mind, and he nearly jumped. Amazing. How on earth did I forget you were there? he thought with uncharacteristic irritation. Do you have to show up at such....inopportune moments? Sakuya's only reply was to laugh before leaving Kanaku alone again; the sound of it echoed and reverberated about the walls of his mind, and Kanaku tried to find something within the shrine to distract himself from the noise.

He remembered why he had entered the shrine in the first place, and focused once again on the malevolent being that wound through the halls. Now that he grew closer, he could tell that the being was following someone: there was a distinctly playful eagerness that pervaded the child-like malignancy, as though whomever this person was following was merely the next piece of entertainment in an otherwise dull afternoon. Kanaku wondered again just who it was he had decided to follow, but pushed that thought away. He wouldn't know until he caught up to the being, and at any rate, did it really matter? Would it really stop him from pursuing the person? I guess that depends on what the answer would be, supplied his thoughts, and Kanaku realized that he was beginning to wish he didn't think at all.

At last, with a suddenness that startled him, Kanaku turned a corner and caught sight of the boy--for he could now see that it was indeed a boy--that he had been following. A shredded yukata, one that had once been beautiful and exquisitely made, but now hung in torn rents from a child's body, dragged upon the ground. A chain encircled the waist of the boy, shaggy black hair hung in his eyes and only just obscured his face, and large, doll-like eyes shone with an eerie combination of brightness and emptiness from his youthfully dead face. There was something strange about him, too, as though his image didn't quite come into focus. Just what this interference was, Kanaku couldn't guess, but it simultaneously disturbed him and piqued his curiosity.

As he watched, the child-like figure turned a corner, down another hallway perpendicular to the one they were now in. This child can hold such passionate wish for evil? Again, Kanaku shuddered, and deep in the recesses of his mind, Sakuya laughed. Somehow, this steeled his nerve--likely it was simply a want to prove Sakuya wrong about his cowardice--and Kanaku continued forward, following the boy down the hallway, but taking care to keep at a distance so as not to alert the youth to his presence.

Kanaku was startled by the boy's sudden lack of interest in whomever he had been chasing, and as the Tetsuya approached him he took an involuntary step back, as if he could somehow escape this strange being by simply stepping backward through the air, and out of time. But why do I want to 'escape'? he wondered even as the urge to leave flitted through his mind. After all, I was the one who followed this boy with such determination. And as soon as he sees me, I want to disappear? It's pathetic, whispered Sakuya, let me free to take care of it for you. Let me be your so dearly wanted escape. Kanaku shook his head, barely aware that the gesture was physical as well as mental, and pushed Sakuya away as the boy spoke.

The voice was eerie, monotonously dull and without any of the childlike qualities Kanaku had expected, though now he wondered why he expected anything ordinary from so unique a being. The boy shambled toward him, seeming less and less like a living creature with every movement he made, and when he spoke the soft deadness of the voice captured Kanaku utterly. He was fascinated, captivated, completely held in place by the strangeness of this boy, who for some reason he couldn't help but find to be beautiful. Perhaps it was simply that his terrifying visage was so unlike anything that Kanaku had ever seen that he was so absorbed in the boy's voice and movements; but whatever the reason, his want to escape, to flee, vanished entirely and he merely stood, hypnotized by this strange being he had followed and that was now in turn aware of him.

As the child spoke of the thing inside Kanaku, he shuddered. It was clear that this boy had never formally met Sakuya from the way in which he spoke of him, and yet he sensed the entity's presence as though he could see into Kanaku's mind and soul. The shudder was furthered as the child continued to say: "Your eyes are the color of green lily pads... I would wish to eat them and take them away... " Who is he, to talk of such disturbing notions as though they are nothing? Kanaku thought as he stared down into the eyes of the boy. They were clouded, black, as though he was heavily drugged, and then without any change in the boy's attitude they grew amber; they pulled Kanaku in, seemingly depthless in their emptiness, and again he froze, though he had barely been moving as it was.

As the boy mentioned painting, Kanaku was compelled into speech. "Make me one of what?" he asked, and for some reason he found himself whispering. "What do you mean?" The notion of his body hanging on the wall was one that disturbed Kanaku, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel any honest fear. It was strange, but for the first time in a long time, he was completely unafraid, and at a moment when he really probably should have been.

And then the boy began to sing, and dance, and once again he utterly captivated Kanaku's attention, his question momentarily forgotten as he watched the strange and awkward movements of the dance, and listened to the eerieness of that so dead voice. He moved as though his body was no restriction at all, as though it was his ethereal spirit that moved and twirld and twisted, and not his flesh and bones and blood. The song hovered liltingly in the air, twisting in and out of the moans and groans that filled the hallways and the screams that every so often emanated softly from behind the rice paper doors. It was as though the performance was a physical expression of the Shrine of the August Star itself, and this boy was merely an extension of its existence.

And then the shadows came, and Kanaku was again struck with the strangeness of it all, and wondered once more why he didn't feel fear. Faces formed in the air, shockingly white and terror-filled, frozen forever in their utter horror. And the boy was whispering, asking Kanaku if he could see them, see their ghastly visages; and he said that the shadow puppets could see Sakuya, and that no one would know where they were, and even as Kanaku wondered what that meant he realized that he didn't care. It was as if this dance, this voice, this boy, was pulling his spirit from his body and he no longer cared for such material things as time, place, or even the people who filled the shrine and that had once so tormented him before Sakuya taught them true pain.

The boy's fingers grazed Kanaku's face, and he instinctively flinched at their coldness. They were as a corpse, frozen and lifeless. And yet they pulled at him, as did everything else about this strange boy; Kanaku found himself allured by the artistry of their form, as though a famous artist had drawn them, or a sculptor carved them expertly from white marble. For that was how they felt: cold, hard, dead; and it was how they looked: pale, lifeless.....beautiful.

Kanaku found himself turning from the boy, facing the shadow forms that circled and wheeled about them. As he saw them, one hand slowly reached out, as if to touch one, just to see if it was possible. It was as though his body moved on its own, completely independent of the mind and spirit it housed within its fleshy cage. And before he had even made contact with them, Kanaku found himself dancing to their movements, as the boy had before, and with a grace he never knew he had. His body was lithe, and extension of his own emotion, and he swayed and spun more freely than he ever had before, entirely without inhibition or fear. And then all too soon, he found himself slowing, stopping, and he was standing before the boy again, staring into his amber eyes and asking his many questions in silence, without speaking, merely conveying his thoughts through his eyes.