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   -- manners, mato. 

      as soon as her suspicion is confirmed,        the child remembers what her mother        has taught her: you must be polite. 

      give them their space, quiet down.        shoulders square. act properly. 

      coming out of her tomboyish mom,        it sounded ridiculous, but... come       to think of it, doesn't it make sense?        important people already put up with       a lot - paparazzi and touchy-feely fans,       those of which aren't their biggest concerns.

              it's imperative that she doesn't mess this up.

"Ah, um... K, Kuroi! Kuroi Mato, I mean!" 

"Sorry for stopping you, Megurine-san! It's just a big town, and I wasn't sure, ehe... I'm really happy to meet you! Really! You're my super-duper favorite!" 

       the frequent stumbles in her speech        belie her nervousness, despite her        best efforts at seeming confident.

"Ah, you recognize me?" A polite smile is given, of course. "Thank you! I feel most honored to be recognized out here!" She hides her weariness behind a polite smile as usual. Being found by fans is no unusual situation — it happens seemingly every time she sets out without some form of sunglasses. Sometimes she evades humanity; though often not. "And whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

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                  apathetic wildfire downcast ‘pon persistent             compassion, fragility longs for destruction, admittedly it             is salvation she longs to know, but it is, perhaps, a foolish             desire, constructed hero mix of imperfection & errors, only             beneficial in combat.

                                             " you … are? "

            how unfortunate it must be to not be recognised. to not be             greeted with similar identification, but there is nothing to be             remembered, despite similar visage, they are strangers.

   -- her lack of reaction is due         to fear, rather than denial        or anything of the like ----        she realizes it, the fact that        this wildfire is not her own.

not with a bang, but with a whimper, as most say.

       mato's reaction is nothing        short of lukewarm; not like        one would expect, certainly        from such a vibrant spirit.        her expression shifts from        hurt to dismay, to worry,        and then to apprehension,         a muted rainbow to suit her.

"...I'm... you."

"Aren't I...? 

and they finally come to a mutual lack of recognition, the shorter girl too afraid  to move from where she stands.

(even if she moves,      it will come to mean nothing,                                    won't it?) 

 ".....If you aren't her, then who are you--?" 

       her tone rises, but it is the only sign of ill-disposition she gives.

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black★rock shooter (ova) // mato copying yomi's homework.

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I miss Yomi...

She said she was only going to be gone for a few months, but it's already felt like forever. 

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                  she   faces   destruction  &  utters  its             name with such familiarity,         but innocence             herself  remains  a  stranger  to chaotic wildfire,             youthful visage is not one previously registered,             nathless,        this child knows her to undefined             extent.

                                             " … yes "

                        but who is she?

   -- a faint inkling of far-fetched and        ridiculous suspicion nags at the        innocuous girl, growing while she        searches the other's eyes for any        sign of ambiguous recognition - 

       and she finds none. 

       if one were to take into account         that black rock shooter wasn't         particularly emotive, that would        make sense... but mato knows.        she knows when her counter-        part doesn't recognize her, like        realizing an amnesiac family         member doesn't know who you        are anymore, doesn't remember.

"It... It's me, Mato!"

"Don't you remember? I'm..."

       trailing off, there's only one possible         word that could fit in the finish: you.

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   -- mato is practicing her singing again,         an effort only made when she's sure        she's absolutely and utterly alone; 

    her voice falters and cracks at the first     high note, indicative of her inexperience,     and she resists the impulse to give up     and sulk -- that's not how you get better.      certainly not at singing, anyway.

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   -- unsure as she is of her own sight's       current validity, mato is not mistaken;       she recognizes the form of her other      self, a vision caught only in glimpses      of dreams and of past memories...

     was she pulled back into their world?

"Black Rock... Shooter..."

       is that... right? 

                  walking salvation, child forged from stardust             & wildfire, a myriad of confusions & curiosities, stares at             tangible echo, reflection of a younger self. 

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...!

"No way, no way! Are you really...?"

   -- personal space is a thing, mato.

"Megurine-san--?!"

      on a positive note, you would think       she's seen god himself, by the way       she stares up at the taller woman.

      (as anyone would, when meeting their favorite singer.)

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   -- the trouble mato manages to get herself into... 

       hands clutched tightly around the stem of         a powder blue rose - as they've been for         the past few hours - the poor girl wanders,         lost, through the halls of the art gallery----

       and though she's felt it ever since she         arrived here, she's suddenly, and acutely,         aware that she isn't alone. the thorns dig        into her clammy palms as she tightens         her grip around the precious flower.

"...H...Hello?"

"Is anyone here...?"

     the rose and you are equal. know the weight of your own life.                 when your rose wilts, you too shall rot away.

     she's scared, but still holds onto the hope       she'll find a friendly face in this nightmare.

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   -- commence squinting at math homework.

     if yomi were here, this would have been done ages ago.

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{ i woke up to more followers than i expected! }

{ hello! if you'd like a starter, just like this post, i suppose? }

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     "Please excuse me!"

     "I didn't mean to! I'm sorry! Very sorry!"

   -- they're going to kill her. mato's sure of it;         whatever they had been holding is now         spilled and scattered all over the concrete,         thanks to her own negligence in watching        where she was going... 

   ...granted, she probably shouldn't have        been running in the first place, but it's       not like she has a choice - it's dinnertime.

               if she's too late, her mother will be the one to kill her.

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大事なものは目蓋の裏 (The Most Important Things Lie Behind Your Eyelids) // KOKIA

what can you see in front of you? a world overflowing with multicolored charms? the most important things lie behind your eyelids. just close your eyes, and you will see. [♪]

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クルマレテ (Enveloped) // KOKIA

In the time between going to bed and dreaming, I close my eyes, and there’s the universe. Be rocked by the moon and forget, think about How you’ll become a child when you reach the stars, They haven’t changed since the distant past, a swirling pattern that envelops you. [♪]

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The colors we see aren't all beautiful, but even so...                    This world of ours is beautiful. 

Independent Mato Kuroi (Black Rock Shooter) RP Blog. 

four years roleplaying experience; three on tumblr.

not spoiler-free. 

multiverse, multiship

crossovers accepted with compatible series

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