blakshuck

[blakshuck]

Mt Rainier

[blakshuck]

                                                              the eyes of her brothers 

Portgas D. Ace @jujika / Sabo @sabolution / Sasha Faye @blakshuck

EYES ON FIRE Your spine is ablaze Felling any foe with my gaze And just in time In the right place Steadily emerging with grace

[blakshuck]

It spoke your name on the stairs that night.

[blakshuck]

❝...Nii-san, look,❞ she nearly whispers, glittering eyes quick to travel between her BROTHER and the unclouded vision outside an open window. In her enchantment, she is a tiny doll creature, gesturing to the darkened heavens with frail, winter arms and the gentle clumsiness of a new-born fawn — moved, by her first glimpse of the world. It is the MOON that has dazzled her; full, and regal, and infinite in all of its silvery beauty: rightful conqueror of the night sky. ❝She reminds me of you.❞

【 题 】 | 【 小妹 】I v. Childhood

:   满月  :                               It’s common knowledge that the human eye does not possess the same reflective film as that of animals— that, in a photograph, only an animal’s eyes will be illuminated by the light of the flash going off. To Sasha, this piece of information serves as outstanding proof of his preexisting conviction that Siobhan Faye was born with the very same eyes as himself, cut from identical golden ore.                                                She has CANINE eyes that look only to the MOON and mirror her light from the earth below. In a pack, they’ll scatter across the open plains as animated street lamps, with Siobhan rightfully earning her place among them. She speaks of their Moon Goddess with esteem equal to that of any who bears the Faye name; he doesn’t doubt the sincerity of her words when she speaks with deference towards for that which guides them.                                                            In time,                                                                    he promises.                                                                                     In time.

                                        Without halting to solicit her opinion on the matter, he removes his velvet cloak from his steadily broadening shoulders and drapes the pine green material around her tiny form. The hefty inner fur lining DROWNS her, submerging her rosy cheeks in tickling argent hairs. It’s considerably too big for her now, with his relatively meager two years of older age already gaining him a noteworthy several inch height advantage that rapidly increases at a pace she cannot match.                               Though the hem of the cloak skims over the floorboards and absorbs invisible dust like an overpriced cleaning appliance, he’s wholly apathetic towards the concept of dirtying his belongings in order to keep his sister warm. He’d far rather see it muddied and soiled rather than risk her catching a chill.

                                 ❝Would you like to meet her?❞                                 He queries her as he adroitly begins to fasten the wooden toggle buttons into place with precise fingers. It’s presented as a question, but he leaves no time for her to reply. There’s no reasoning behind why she should be worried about it if she’s with him.                                                          Nii-san always knows what he’s doing.                      ❝I think she’s very eager to make your acquaintance.❞

                                    After the last button has been set into its place, he extends an arm to his younger sister with an open palm for her to accept, offering his hand as if it were his DUTY to safely escort ROYALTY to the open grounds.                                   Though this has been set up to resemble an invitation, it hardly stands as an offer, but rather him insisting that she accompany him. She’s charmed him with her expression of reverence. He has no qualms over taking her outside, even if it is beyond her curfew.                       For Sasha, who has been raised to flourish in the light of the Moon Goddess and fluently masquerade his body into the shadows she creates, to sneak out at any hour of the night seldom comes as any form of daunting venture.

[blakshuck]

She wants a cuddle.

【 题 】 | 【 小妹 】

:   满月  :                               Then maybe she should ask for one.                           Lord knows he finds seemingly endless pleasure in her craving his affection. He loves making her insist on it. Demand he give her the cuddle she so desperately wants.                           He loves that she shamelessly needs him to give her something that she wouldn’t ask of anyone else.

        ❝What are you giving me that face for?                                You’re pouting, Little One. It makes you look childish.❞

                                        But clearly smiling, he’ll press his forehead to hers, dangling his arms loosely over her shoulders and hanging them over her back, so she’ll be forced to grab his hands and make him to hold her properly.                                              He likes it when she takes his love by force, even if he’s willing to openly distribute it anyway.

[blakshuck]

she struggles whenever he decides to pick her up by the back of her dress; like a mother wolf to the nape of her pup. :/

【 题 】 | 【 小妹 】I v. Childhood

:   满月  :                               She can very well struggle just as much as she likes, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be in any hurry to put his fidgety little sister down any sooner than initially planned.                               He treats her as if she’s his naughty little puppy; too overpowered by exuberance for their small body to handle, too sprightly for their petite size, and it’s his responsibility to teach her some semblance of equanimity.

                                 He’ll carry her to where he wants in his Zoan form and very calmly place her down between his front feet, crossing grand black paws one over the other in front of her dainty flower-embroidered shoes to trap her in place.

                     ❝In such a rush, aren’t we, Siobhan?                                                     I didn’t say I was going to let you go.❞                          The wolf speaks in something of a teasing growl that conveys a coy smile that cannot be seen.

[blakshuck]

"what's the worst injury you've ever received?"

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                               What an infuriating thing to be asked.                         He shouldn’t be expected to be willing to openly discuss something that confidential solely for the sake of satiating another’s intrusive curiosity.                           This could only be defined as overt nosiness.

                             Still, for the sake of not acquiring a negative reputation of being perturbed by recalling the event, Sasha’s reply displays exemplary equilibrium. In fact, there’s even an air of irony in his words, a single half-laugh in the back of his throat as if he’s just been on the receiving end of an example of painfully shoddy witticism.

                     ❝Why would you ask?                             Are you planning on outdoing it yourself?                          …Or maybe you just wanted to know if I had any weaknesses?❞

                   He doesn’t flinch, attentively eyeing the other for any form of substantial reaction. They can do or think whatever they like. He can’t say he’s remotely concerned. He doesn’t particularly care for their presence.

                      When they are no longer observing him and have erased both the query and his answer from their immediate thoughts, he will discreetly stretch and curl the gloved hand under the tabletop. It’s mostly healed now, spare the leathery texture of previously scorched skin that’s now scarred over, but lack of use during the recovery stage has left it prone to regular cramping and stiffening.                  The remaining damage is hardly grisly; it could be a lot worse. It will fade in time, perhaps even to the point of being nearly immaculate. It isn’t a sense of vanity that drives him to keep the damage concealed, but rather a preference to not have people inquire on how and where it was first received.

                               It’s becoming increasingly onerous to entirely avoid all discussions of him as of late. He’s successfully made quite a commotion for the Pack to deal with among themselves.

                          Since that event, all of the broken and splintered bones have realigned and strengthened considerably. Occasionally, when the rain has left the air particularly damp, an afflicting ache will settle through one of the previously injured limbs and remain for a few hours at a time, but it’s nothing debilitating. Sasha has dealt with breaks of a similar nature before.                                   Mere inconveniences.

                   He won’t deliver his opponent the satisfaction of thinking a few damaged bones would make a dramatic impact on his life. His hands weren’t nearly as powerful as he claimed.                              Capable of crushing a human skull? What a load of dog shit.                    If that had been the only physical damage attained from their fight, the future Faye Clan leader may have been left almost underwhelmed. He would have expected better from someone who had a bounty as high as his.

                             Pride will perpetually prohibit him from divulging it to anyone, but in blatant truthfulness, the burn he caused had rightfully earned its title of the worst damage Sasha had ever sustained.

                               Initially obtained whilst transformed into his Zoan type state, the flames had licked and sweltered up from beneath his front right paw and enveloped the connecting leg up towards his shoulder blade. In his commonplace human form, his hand and forearm bore the brunt of the damage, with taught skin tightly stretched over weakened muscles and veins. It had blistered and swollen with bulbous liquid pouches that had to be drained. Despite regular cleaning, for nearly a week, the lingering, unmistakable stench of scalding flesh remained within his chambers.                     It had been vile.

                       Nurses had restlessly come and gone in the days following the fight, repeatedly seeking to fret over his wounds until he swiftly dismissed them and graciously assured them that it was unnecessary; he was doing just fine. Even the consequential waves of white pain could be readily overcome by sheer will, though he was frequently offered pain killer or two if it was becoming something of a true nuisance he didn’t feel inclined to deal with. He consistently denied them all.                       He’d wanted to be alone; to rest in a chair by the open window, two decorative jade Boading balls tenderly clinking and ringing against one another in his unaffected hand. There had been a breeze that the medical staff had been adamant he best avoid, but he’d paid no mind to their admonitions and suffered no ill consequence as a result.                      For hours, he surveilled a multitude of autumnal shades of deceased leaves drift from the wispy tree branches before getting caught by the wind, like lethargic dispersing cinder sparks from an upside down fireplace that somehow lacked its signature warmth.                                                                     He had been humiliated, and he was incensed.

                                   More than just another acquired scratch to join a preexisting list, the burn was a singular in its appearance. It uniquely symbolizes his insolence; a memento of him disgracing the Faye clan by trespassing on their domain and blatantly disrespecting their existing Head Family members.                    He                           knows                                        NOTHING                                                            of their people, nor their history. He has no RIGHT to speak as if he can even begin to understand a single thing about them. To be permanently reminded of his unsought presence in their lives does nothing but infuriate the Black Shuck. He never should have acquired any form of marking from him.

                      When the ghost hound had ground his canine teeth down against his opponent’s body and felt his cheek tear and split open in his jaws, he could taste his sister’s name inside his mouth, and it made him feel sick.               Her affection was wasted on him.                               She was wasted on him.                                           He did not deserve any single shred of her presence.

                          Had he thought there had been any feasible way Siobhan could have found it within herself to forgive him, he would have torn off his head and spat it straight back out to the dirt in that moment. Perhaps he, who bore so much loathing towards the household he was born into, would find final solace in knowing his blood ran metallic red rather than blue.

                                   The worst injury Sasha has ever acquired is not simultaneously the most excruciating, but rather, it is the most undignified. For him, that’s significantly worse than any brief amount of physical discomfort.

[blakshuck]

"You don't smile often enough."

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                               The accusation results in the corners of his lips instinctively curling and his eyes subsequently softening as he exudes a reticent hum. It isn’t a strictly insincere smile, per se — it comes too readily to be denoted as explicitly artificial. Rather, it is a practiced politeness. A mindful attempt of presenting himself as more congenial that, at some point in time, has evolved into an acquired habit.                                   He’s never felt that he smiles particularly sparingly, in his own personal opinion. Perhaps his smiles are just only limited to the eyes of a very specific few. He isn’t as inclined to break out into any toothy grins in the company of just anyone, nor without a legitimate reason to. Irrespective of this, the belief that he never smiles at all, or at least only on a very rare and irregular basis, is nothing but a complete misapprehension.

                ❝Do you think so?                         I wouldn’t say that.                         I think you must keep missing it.❞

[blakshuck]

"You have a right to be here."

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                               ❝I didn’t think anyone was implying otherwise.❞

             Not to his face, anyway.                 If someone had ever said it behind his back, this was the first he was hearing of it.

                  He’s pretty confident that isn’t the case, though.

[blakshuck]

"You're being too kind to me."

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                               Kind?                  Can his composure be readily mistaken for kindness?

               Well, he supposes it’s fine if that’s how they’re going to construe it.                        He has no qualms over people warming up to him so long as they don’t expect anything out of it.

        ❝I wouldn’t dwell on it so much.                    Really, it’s nothing.❞

[blakshuck]

"Different from your father."

【  题  】 | 【  匿名  】| 【 继续 】

:   满月  :                              Careful where you tread; refuge is often scarce                               for the children who become lost in the woods.

        ❝And what would you know of my father?❞

                            The comparison holds no weight when it comes from a complete outsider.

[blakshuck]

"Surviving is an art that's painted across your body."

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                                ❝…An art?                              No, I wouldn’t call it that.                      Survival is not a token of beauty.             It is not something to be prized or dote upon.                      Would you also claim that there’s beauty in death?             That would be a contradiction.

                               The strong will live, and the weak will die.                                 Artistry isn’t factored in to that.                               It’s evidence of fortitude and will.                                 I wouldn’t put it on the same level as                               wielding a paint brush.❞

[blakshuck]

"You're different and I like that."

【 题 】 | 【 匿名 】

:   满月  :                               It’s not immediately obvious to him whether this is intended to be a compliment or an insult, but then again, perhaps he doesn’t particularly care for the opinion of a complete stranger who has no real presence his life either way.                                He’s somewhat intrigued to know what they were getting at, but he isn’t especially concerned about the answer.

        ❝…Different from who?❞

[blakshuck]

pt 2

ooc. ❛ нe ιѕ very qυιeт wнen нe wanтѕ тo вe нeard ❜

ѕнoυ. ❛ perнapѕ ι нeld yoυ тoo тιgнтly ❜

ιcon gaмeѕ. ❛ ѕcp-023 ❜

мυѕιngѕ. ❛ нear тнe нowl тнaт eaтѕ тнe мoon alιve ❜

lυғғy. ❛ υnтιl тнe lιon learnѕ нow тo wrιтe ; every ѕтory wιll glorιғy тнe нυnтer ❜

aѕĸѕ. ❛ lιѕтenιng ѕo нard тo нιѕ prey . ιт pυllѕ тнe weapon oυт oғ нιѕ нand and ιмpaleѕ ιтѕelғ ❜

мυѕιc. ❛ ιғ ι нad a нearт ι woυld love yoυ . ιғ ι нad a voιce ι woυld ѕιng ❜

cнιldнood. ❛ ѕoмeтнιng good ; ѕoмeтнιng pυre ❜

мaιn. ❛ lιѕтen . нe ѕaιd . lιғe and no eѕcape ❜

ace. ❛ no one lιѕтened тo тнe rιp cυrrenт ιn нιѕ вloodѕтreaм aѕ ιт roared ❜

ѕaвo. ❛ dead ғleѕн wιтнoυт вlood ❜

nѕғw. ❛ a вιтe worѕe тнan нιѕ вarĸ ❜

deѕιreѕ. ❛ a вare вody covered wιтн тeeтн мarĸѕ ❜

мeмeѕ. ❛ do noт мιѕтaĸe мy coмpoѕυre ғor тolerance ❜

vιolence. ❛ drawιng вlood jυѕт тo тaѕтe ιт ; нoldιng вoneѕ jυѕт тo вreaĸ тнeм ❜

ιnтereѕтѕ. ❛ dιrтy pawѕ and canιne тeeтн ❜

ғaye clan. ❛ тнey ғoυnd тнe вιggeѕт and ѕтrongeѕт oғ υѕ . and we вecaмe мonѕтroυѕ . нυngry godѕ ❜

vιѕage. ❛ golden вoy wιтн golden eyeѕ ❜

aeѕтнeтιc. ❛ тнe crown on нιѕ нead waѕ ѕнeep вone and gold ❜

[blakshuck]

pt 1

verѕe.  ❛ a ғoolιѕн peace ιѕ мore deѕтrυcтιve тнan a вloody war ❜

verѕe.  ❛ and тнey lιved peaceғυlly ever aғтer ❜

вalor.  ❛ reмeмвrance . and wнaт we вυrιed ❜

enyo.  ❛ a wolven grandѕon . and ѕecondнand prιde ❜

нera.  ❛ нe lιveѕ aѕ тнoυgн нe ѕevered нιѕ own υмвιlιcal cord ❜

мodern aυ.  ❛ вrιng мe вacĸ a dog ιn тнe neхт lιғe ❜

нeadcanonѕ.  ❛ тнere waѕ alwayѕ тнe нυnger . тнe deaтн oғ ѕмall тнιngѕ ιnѕιde yoυr вody ❜

cracĸ.  ❛ тнe вlacĸ dog мay нave any nυмвer oғ agendaѕ ; мoѕт oғ тнeм υnpleaѕanт ❜

anon.  ❛ ғangѕ wιтнoυт a мoυтн . an eye ιn тнe darĸ wιтнoυт a ғace ❜

pacĸ.  ❛ нere'ѕ тo υѕ . тнoѕe вorn oғ vιolence ; тυrned ιnтo a war groυnd ❜

qυeυe.  ❛ ιт caмe ιnтo тнe yard agaιn ❜

proмo.  ❛ тнe parтѕ тнaт need тo вe ѕwallowed ❜

nιeceѕ and nepнewѕ.  ❛ ғeral pυppιeѕ . lιттle creaтυreѕ ❜

ѕaved.  ❛ collecтιon oғ cнew тoyѕ ❜