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I can also write up an intro too IF THAT IS MORE TO YOUR LIKING
8000 YEARS FROM THE DAY THAT I MET YOU MY LOVE IS STRONGER THAN EVER BEFOOOOOORE
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beastlier
- 2014-03-28 01:24 (UTC) - Expand
Edited 2013-05-04 01:31 (UTC)
hurr HOPEFULLY THIS WORKS FOR YOU... sorry for the tl;dr, i was just setting up background
devourer
- 2014-03-16 20:32 (UTC) - Expandcomes back to this thread about to be a graduate student lmfoa
topslug
- 2014-07-28 14:12 (UTC) - Expand
LORD I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS i hope it's not stupid
eeek
- 2013-05-27 08:14 (UTC) - Expand[ It's not the first time he's been to Akibahara, and it's far from his last.
There are teams here, after all. American football players aiming for the Rice Bowl tournament to spy on; to scout. In one of the most shopping-oriented cities in the fucking region. Figures, is one of many thoughts as he trots down the steps into the subway, messenger bag tucked securely under-arm, camera slung around his neck.
Hiruma makes for the train that'll take him downtown, only stalled by the turnstiles leading to the tracks. It's a tight squeeze, jamming himself in with the rest of the population, reaching high to secure himself to the bar overhead. It all seems a little bigger, this place — everything does. The buildings, the transit... sharp eyes watch it all speed by. Hard to believe he's breaching his twenty-first year.
One wasted, another gained.
Really, getting back into the swing of things at his University was easier than he's expected, but, of course, the doubt still remains.
Was that all real? The magic, the events, the people? God, he'd spent so much effort on it all, so many months wasted, nothing to show for it other than a stiff arm, and a whole lot of useless knowledge. If it all ended up a twisted dream, what then? Should he be happy, or as conflicted as he is; leaving behind things he'd worked for leaves him restless at night, more so than usual. Shaking it off is a temporary fix for an infuriating problem.
One he's been trying for a long, long while now.
With a large bubble snapping under sharp canines, Hiruma ignores the nagging questions, the scenery blurring into one grey colour, the bustle around him. He'll focus on his schedule, his plans for the day, the money he has and the money he'll spend. That's enough, isn't it. Just for now.
Or at least until the next stop, and the fresh flood of city-goers. ]
There are teams here, after all. American football players aiming for the Rice Bowl tournament to spy on; to scout. In one of the most shopping-oriented cities in the fucking region. Figures, is one of many thoughts as he trots down the steps into the subway, messenger bag tucked securely under-arm, camera slung around his neck.
Hiruma makes for the train that'll take him downtown, only stalled by the turnstiles leading to the tracks. It's a tight squeeze, jamming himself in with the rest of the population, reaching high to secure himself to the bar overhead. It all seems a little bigger, this place — everything does. The buildings, the transit... sharp eyes watch it all speed by. Hard to believe he's breaching his twenty-first year.
One wasted, another gained.
Really, getting back into the swing of things at his University was easier than he's expected, but, of course, the doubt still remains.
Was that all real? The magic, the events, the people? God, he'd spent so much effort on it all, so many months wasted, nothing to show for it other than a stiff arm, and a whole lot of useless knowledge. If it all ended up a twisted dream, what then? Should he be happy, or as conflicted as he is; leaving behind things he'd worked for leaves him restless at night, more so than usual. Shaking it off is a temporary fix for an infuriating problem.
One he's been trying for a long, long while now.
With a large bubble snapping under sharp canines, Hiruma ignores the nagging questions, the scenery blurring into one grey colour, the bustle around him. He'll focus on his schedule, his plans for the day, the money he has and the money he'll spend. That's enough, isn't it. Just for now.
Or at least until the next stop, and the fresh flood of city-goers. ]
Edited 2013-05-22 05:58 (UTC)
[ HOW STRANGE that you are in Akutabe's office once again, Lucifer, because no one wants you here!!
No, really, why are you even here.
Beezlebub is looking across the room at you like so, but there's also the sense that if Akutabe wouldn't literally murder him several times over for fighting, he would be. But eventually, Beeyan will speak up, even if he sounds very reluctant to do so... ]
My... And here I thought we may have been rid of you! What a shame.
No, really, why are you even here.
Beezlebub is looking across the room at you like so, but there's also the sense that if Akutabe wouldn't literally murder him several times over for fighting, he would be. But eventually, Beeyan will speak up, even if he sounds very reluctant to do so... ]
My... And here I thought we may have been rid of you! What a shame.
[It's not particularly hard to track down Hitokiri Battousai if some effort is put into it. A redhaired swordsman who remains armed despite the ban on swords, with a cross shaped scar, who keeps going around wrecking crime syndicates in Tokyo... Well, suffice to say, it wouldn't be the first time someone had traced him to the Kamiya Dojo. He has so many enemies at this point that off hand, he couldn't guess which one would be behind a given attempt on his life-- and although Kenshin is always on the lookout for said attempts, to tell the truth, he prefers his peaceful life enough that he's long since lost his wartime edge. A general sense of the ki of those around him is all he maintains in this extensive crowd.
Today he's doing Kaoru-dono's grocery shopping for her, meandering through the marketplace in Tokyo with a small smile. Kenshin would be entirely innocuous given his easy air, but the hair marks him out in a sea of black and his sakabatou is at his hip, as always. He's lugging a wooden bucket filled with tofu in water with relative ease despite its weight.]
Today he's doing Kaoru-dono's grocery shopping for her, meandering through the marketplace in Tokyo with a small smile. Kenshin would be entirely innocuous given his easy air, but the hair marks him out in a sea of black and his sakabatou is at his hip, as always. He's lugging a wooden bucket filled with tofu in water with relative ease despite its weight.]
I HAVE NOT PLAYED HIM MUCH SO i'm sorry if i'm slow replying with him...
undeserved
- 2013-06-25 07:04 (UTC) - Expand
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