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brightlilith · 11 months

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.006.

.important.

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Masterlist Tokio Hotel - Masterlist Connected by music • Tom Kaulitz

𝘿𝙚𝙘𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 30, 2022 — 𝙎𝙖𝙡𝙫𝙖𝙙𝙤𝙧, 𝘽𝙖𝙝𝙞𝙖 - 𝘽𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙞𝙡.

...

𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘮𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬.

𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘉𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘦.

𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘠/𝘕 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦.

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

With two days to go until 2023, I was more than happy. I was excited.

I would be spending the new year with my family, friends and my handsome boyfriend.

Could be better?

Yes, Riri is still on my tail about Bruce.

She was doing her best to separate me from him, and it was getting annoying.

Amelia was next to Riri.

I don't understand.

Even though Amelia seems to hate Bruce I knew she wanted me to be happy so she just puts up with him in front of me, Other than that, I caught them fighting while I had to go to the bathroom.

They looked at each other with pure hatred.

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

The whole family was at the beach, it was summer and the heat was unbearable.

My nieces were with Bruce in the water, he was as happy as they were, he barely arrived and he already hooked them.

"𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘦̂ 𝘵𝘦𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦̂𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘢" (Looks like you have competition) - My mother spoke with a smile.

"𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮" (It seems so) - Laughs softly.

Amélia and I were sunbathing to the sound of 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰 by 𝘚𝘦𝘶 𝘑𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦, the smell of barbecue and sea mingled together, bringing a sense of peace.

I missed here, the beaches, everything!

Even though I miss it here, I don't regret going to New York.

I must thank my parents for taking me to Germany when I didn't want to and thank my agent for finding me beautiful enough to ask me to be an international model.

I settled in New York after I broke up with Tom and after my parents moved back to Brazil.

I could say that I regret everything these last few years, but I don't.

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

4:30 pm, the sun was still shining, Bruce and my nieces were still in the water, Amelia and I were under the umbrella talking and my parents and relatives were talking around the barbecue.

The beach was still full of people, obviously because it was the end of the year, tomorrow there should be more people coming at night for the new year.

We decided to spend the new year in Ribeira on the beach, we were going somewhere else, but we decided to stay here.

"𝘚𝘶𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘩𝘢 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘥𝘦, 𝘱𝘰𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘢-𝘭𝘢?" (Your cousin is due to arrive tomorrow afternoon, can you pick her up at the airport? ). – My mother spoke suddenly.

"𝘚𝘪𝘮, 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘰." (Yes, of course).

୨୧ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ୨୧

It was already night and we were at home, and it seems that my family and some friends who were going to spend the new year together in Ribeira decided at the last minute to go to Morro de São Paulo, they are crazy.

I feel sorry for my cousin, I was supposed to pick her up at the airport, but it looks like she's going to have to go straight to Morro.

We quickly packed our things and left for the car, we would go to the Maritime Terminal, and then we would take a speedboat to go to Morro de São Paulo.

In the meantime, Bruce was awkward and nervous, my family and family friends excited, Amelia angry, and Riri too.

I asked them why each one is in that mood, they only gave me vague answers.

It looked like Riri wanted to explode and spill the beans, but according to her, she wasn't talking to me.

"We arrived" My aunt said.

We left the boat, took our luggage and went to the house, as we walked to the house where we were going to stay, I realized how much I missed here too, I rarely came here, but I remembered everything.

Morro de São Paulo is beautiful by day, but wonderful at night, people passing by after the beach, various types of music together that bring comfort, children playing, street vendors selling their incredibly beautiful art and the different smells of food in the air.

Morro de São Paulo is extremely beautiful at night, I never get tired of seeing it.

I knew Bruce was watching me with a goofy smile, I knew he was watching my bright eyes as I took it all in, a smile never leaving my face.

Constructive criticism and supportive messages are always welcome, it motivates me to keep writing.

(Chapter not revised)

💗

Taglist;

Forever Tags: @ihatepeanutss @lovelyy-moonlight @tsamiaxo

Connected by music; @ajaxisbae @penquinsqge @suvakrpa @bxcndd @tokiohotellllll @f4ivc

Tokio Hotel; @sunooslover @willow-sages

Tom Kaulitz; @justash02 @pearlssck @dearstell @venderretta @instabull @aqxllo @Neteyamlovr

Bill Kaulitz; @aqxllo @Neteyamlovr

Gustav schäfer;

Georg Listing;

Sam Winchester; @willow-sages

Dean Winchester; @willow-sages

Robby Keene; @instabull

Damon Salvatore; @instabull

Klaus Mikaelson; @instabull

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list 💗 the ones in blue, it's because I couldn't score.

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neogen-apokemonfanmadeexperience · 5 months

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004 Tilava: The Sparky Flail Pokemon: Tilava tend to roll around in little balls when young, using their tails to bounce upward for some added airtime. they love giving their Trainers "kisses" which usually results in the trainers getting burned.

005 Plasmolten: The Wrecking ball Pokemon: Plasmolten are used as construction pokemon or Forge pokemon. their tongues secrete a special substance that allows metal to become more malleable for the Hammer.

006 Ankylava: Thunder Forge Pokemon: Ankylava are noble Loyal pokemon who where once used to forge great weapons of legend. its said that the hammering of their tails can be confused for that of a large thunderstorm upon the horizon.

#pokemon #fakemon #Somar #Somar Pokedex #Tilava line #Firetype

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acupofcoftea · 1 year

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Messy art of the starters for a Fakemon region I’m working on and off on.

Dex Entries:

#001 Seelec, Spark Seed Pokémon

Grass-type

“It stores massive amounts of energy inside of itself. If it’s put under too much pressure, the energy releases itself through spinning the leaves on its head.”

“From a young age, it is naturally curious despite its soft and frail structure. If it finds itself in danger, it will release an electric shock that covers its body.”

#002 Sproton, Wind Energy Pokémon

Grass/Electric-Type

“The leaves on its head spin with the wind, building up energy that it uses to conduct research.”

“This Pokémon loves to shock random smaller creatures to see how electricity affects their bodies. It may do so as well to their trainer if the behaviour is not discouraged.”

#003 Trenerator, Power Plant Pokémon

Grass/Electric-Type

“This Pokémon’s head has grown so large that it now requires an extra pair of limbs just to support it. Its head can approximately store enough electricity to power an entire city on a sunny day.”

“It is said that this Pokémon is able to communicate with all others in its species through electric signals sent through an interconnected series of underground roots.”

#004 Motchew, Molten Rat Pokémon

Fire-Type

“This Pokémon is said to have more than a billion times the number of tastebuds that a human has. This causes it to undergo a major sensory overload when it eats for the first few times in its life.”

“The magma-like substance on Motchew’s back changes in flavour based on its diet. It will always be slightly spicy however, regardless of what it eats.”

#005 Curyat, Spicy Rodent Pokémon

Fire/Fairy-Type

“Its tail has begun developing into an extra limb. It primarily uses it to grab onto foods that were once out if its reach more easily.”

“Once Motchew evolve into Curyat, they begin craving new and undiscovered flavours and tastes. They will seek out strange combinations of berries to feed themselves with.”

#006 Chevrotume, Master Chef Pokémon

Fire/Fairy-Type

“Legends say that an exiled king once saw a Chevrotume while resting under a tree. The name of that tree eventually became the name of the king’s new kingdom.”

“It is often favoured by new chefs who wish to bring something new and unique into the culinary world as its sense of taste will always tell a good dish from a bad one.”

#007 Pirief, Tiny Thief Pokémon

Water-Type

“This Pokémon disguises its tracks with various colourful mists in order to steal food from competitors.”

“It will steal shiny objects and decorate itself with them. In the wild, the Pirief with the most brilliant and luxurious decoration is most respected.”

#008 Kifisal, Trade Pokémon

Water-Type

“It uses its keen sense of sight and reflexes to catch even the most nimble of sea creatures. It always catches a multiple of two so that it can eat half and trade the other half with other Pokémon.”

“Many ancient fishermen trained Kifisal to act as a way to get extra fish during their work. Though they would often need to be strong-willed to get most of Kifisal’s catch from it.”

#009 Empargle, Cargo Carrier Pokémon

Water/Steel-Type

“This Pokémon can carry up to 100 times its own body weight. Yet its voracious diet makes it only viable for large shipping companies to use for long-distance trips.”

“Empargle are famed for being extremely conniving and sneaky. Even if trained to be obedient, they will still sometimes play tricks on their trainer for fun.”

#fakemon #fakémon #my art #pokémon #pokemon #pokémon art

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remesrobotics · 11 months

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Slag Woman

DHN.006 - スラグウーマン “Trying to start something? Good. I lava good fight.”

Good Point - Endurance Bad Point - Blunt Like - Alcohol Dislike - Sleep

5’9” (175.26 cm)

A robot built for construction and repair by Dr. Harp. Unlike the others, they were also directly modified for combat, and acts as an unassuming bodyguard for the others. Like Nail Woman, they do not have a specific species in mind, but is modeled after a slug.

Slag Woman’s large and barely mobile lower body (a flattened naga or gorgon-esque tail instead of legs) limits their mobility, but houses an impressive furnace for the intake, smelting, and excreting of molten metal. Most of the time it is siphoned up into their upper torso area to be injected into casts, or loaded into their weapons, but can also be vented out of their arms and ‘slug’ torso from the waist-down like protective slime, though doing so also anchors them in place. They can control their own molten metal like extra limbs using Future Technology sophisticated magnetism.

Since their body is filled with molten metal, Slag is the heaviest Harp Number (heavier than Heavy, ironically). However, as a testament to Heavy's strength, the python can lift them just fine if they need to get somewhere more quickly than their usual, painfully slow locomotion.

Their 'hair' appears molten, but is not heated, composed instead of a luminescent, ferrous, putty-like compound controlled by the same magnetism, and simply looks that way for aesthetics. They do, however, 'eat' solid food (and metals for smelting) through a hidden mouth-like intake in the back of their head, and thus appears to absorb it into their hair. This is because their 'mask' doesn't open up, instead being made of a spongy, speaker-like material that can only take in fluid.

Opposite to Nail Woman, Slag Woman hates sleeping, and as a result always seems sluggish and tired. This has the added benefit of having others let their guard down around them, especially considering how lethal their combat abilities can be. They have a cannon for launching powerful ballistic ammunition (Slag Shot), and their overall weight (and ability to anchor themself to the ground) gives them a Hell of a punch at close range. While they’re not nearly as strong in a lifting sense as Heavy Woman, they’re much more inclined to choose violence as a solution to problems.

Their predominantly graphite and ceramic construction can also take a significant beating, but their finer ceramic internals are a little more susceptible to fracture damage from massive trauma. They rely mostly on the element of surprise to get the upper hand.

Slag Woman drinks alcohol an awful lot, giving them the impression of a drunkard, especially with their seemingly slow and lazy outlook. That said, they actually have an incredible alcohol tolerance compared to other robots, and can drink almost anybody under the table. They argue that alcohol helps power their internal furnace for melting metal.

Slag Woman has a multi-layered pun name:

Slag references their primary function of dealing with molten metal and metal refuse

Slug (pronounced suraggu (スラッグ) vs slag’s suragu (スラグ))

Slug also meaning a strong punch/hit, or metal/lead bullets, for their combat abilities

Slug can also be used as a colloquial measure for gulping down liquor.

#oc slag woman #fancharacter #mega man #remes data cd #slag and nail skip out on the herpetoculture theme a bit #because they're both meant to complete the 'mushi-ken' trifecta started by snake and toad #very fun to draw but has a slightly lacklustre personality right now 😔

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total-drama-brainrot · 2 months

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no yeah that was me, just forgot to sign off! i think your idea is hecking neat as well (and yes i am a fairly intense vocaloid fan as well! and project sekai but we aren't here for that. milgram started in august 2020 and we're at the tail end of the second trial now). was the project itself named after the experiment? yeah probably, a lot of focus on how es is being made to be the one doing this by jackalope (chris in this au. but also fun fact jackalope does all the cooking. so basically, chef as a marginally larger jackalope in a chef outfit). jackalope also says that es can judge by how much they like the prisoners which come on. tell me chris wouldn't do that.

anyway do you get why i want warden noah now? my other choice was jo, hm.

may as well talk more about why i assigned those two numbers to alejandro and sierra specifically: canon 001 is heavily implied to have a learning disability and to have killed for parental attention and envy of another kid, and canon 006...

This Is How To Be In Love With You Psychogram (MAHIRU cover) Love is mine

...yeah that's sierra. that's toxic love. rules out cody as a prisoner though. i cannot delete that indented quote for some reason so you will just have to suffer it.

some other possible prisoners: anne maria 002 (no abortion though, something worse), mike 009 (who fun fact is also a system!), courtney 004 (little miss playing the victim herself we love you mu kusunoki) shawn (no number yet), scarlett? maybe if she's reimagined as less cartoonishly evil (which i already do usually)

coherence is not my strong suit when rambling haha. - lindsanon

☝️ This is for the person asking for the MILGRAM AU, since I couldn't provide for them. Lindsanon's got you covered!

#I'd comment more but I'm At Work right now so-#total drama #others' ideas #lindsanon #replies

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whentranslatorscry · 11 months

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Hitagi Honeymoon

006

“Nine-tailed fox? I know not.”

This indifferent reply came when I asked the little blonde girl, who emerged leisurely from my shadow, about the Killing Stone that had become my mission during a long-overdue honeymoon. Having finished a meal with my sister, taking separate baths, and finally settling down in my room— more accurately, a room that showed traces of once being occupied by the young boy Araragi— I could not help but pry.

“I don’t know everything, I know only donuts.”

“Wow, that's funny.”

“I do know the Cat of Many Tails, though— a classic by Ellery Queen.”

After more than a decade of reading nothing but manga, this little girl had finally grown up to read classical mystery novels.

Little girls do grow up, huh.

No, had this girl truly grown up, not just Japan, but the entire world would be in peril— this is something one tends to forget inadvertently. It is because she remains in this childish form that she is granted the certification of harmlessness.

“Speaking of aberrations, you were once the king of them, and Oshino, being a specialist, should’ve given you some special education. Even I’ve heard of Tamamo-no-Mae’s name.”

“Ah, the name.”

“Somehow, it sounded like an alias,” said Shinobu as she tilted her head.

She tilted her hands and feet as well— a stretch, it looked like, due to her constant presence in my shadow.

“My history as the king of aberrations, and the nostalgic aloha boy’s expert instruction, it has been almost eighteen years— or has it been six years? I’ve forgotten all about it.”

I wanted to say how unreliable that sounded, but it might just be the way it is— I hardly remember even a grain of the knowledge I crammed during my entrance exam studies.

It was a nanoparticle-level oblivion.

I wasn’t even sure what I learned in college. I couldn’t even be sure if I really took the exams. Did I get in on my parents' connections, so very like me?

Including my numerous brushes with death, memories related to aberrations seemed to be deeply etched in my mind, but in reality, these experiences may be romanticized or altered.

Hellish spring breaks, nightmarish Golden Weeks, stylish and elegant battles against vampires and cats alongside Hanekawa, uttering superb catchphrases— did these memories reflect the truth?

“Why don’t you do that thing you do? That memory technique where you stick your hand into your brain and stir it up chaotically.”

I remember it with crystalline clarity, like a trauma.

“Are you a fool? If I, now merely a squeezed-out husk, were to attempt such a violent technique, only the gruesome corpse of a young girl would appear in your room.”

“That’d be awful for sure. I'd have to wield the full might of a cop to cover it up.”

“You should not be a cop by any means. Neither a cop nor an FBI agent.”

“Hmph. That's why I became a famous detective instead.”

“That certainly sounds like a line from a classical mystery.”

I don't think so.

Why classical specifically, anyway?

“Right. It was, to some extent, a technique from your time as a vampire. I guess you just can't quite remember it.”

“Indeed, if I were to stir my brain like that, it would turn into a Tochigi specialty, Shimotsukare.”

“How are you so knowledgeable about Tochigi's specialties?”

“I had a period where I lived in this country, as a god.”

That's right. I often forget that.

Rather than living here, it’s better to say that she reigned over here.

Could it be that this little girl witnessed the battle of Tochigi and Gunma at the Senjougahara, or rather, the fight between god and god, the clash of the giant centipede and snake?

Had she been watching from a vantage point engulfed in sand?

“The timing does not add up. My time as a god in Japan—that is to say, on this land, happened about four hundred years ago. The myth you are referring to may be slightly older.”

“Well, I guess.”

It wasn’t just a slight difference, but that was the scale of human beings.

Wasn't Tamamo-no-Mae eight hundred years ago? The scale was completely different for great supernatural beings and gods.

So there hadn’t once been a connection or destiny between Shinobu and Tamamo-no-Mae in this country.

“So you weren't childhood friends like me and Oikura.”

“Indeed. You have no childhood friends.”

“I do. Don't forget about Oikura.”

“I merely denied the ‘friends’ part. Although, I cannot deny my tendency to forget things. The times when I was pretending to slay aberrations are now beyond the realm of forgetfulness. Fox aberration, hm.”

“They are often mentioned alongside tanuki, but is that all there is to them?”

Foxes are indeed a common presence in ghost stories, yet their image is generally quite playful and not especially threatening.

A fox of the size and power to destroy a country, however, would be far beyond the reach of our abilities today.

Whether in Japan or America, my accomplishments extended no further than that of a humble investigator.

As I consider this, I must admit that even current Shinobu is hardly formidable battle personnel; she’d be better described as an entertainer, mascot even. Should the rumor prove true, even with the directive from Chief Kouga, to whom I had sworn allegiance, I feared we would have no choice but to flee in terror, our tails between our legs.

“I‘d cut off my own tailbone just to get away.”

“Though my resolve is strong, the scene before us is indeed a harrowing one. I may not know of the Killing Stone, but I have heard rumors of stones splitting apart all over the place.”

“Oh, so there are other legends like it after all. I wonder if they branched off, or if they were once all one story. History really is fascinating when it's not part of a school curriculum.”

“Even the dumpling statue at Utsunomiya Station was reportedly split in half, with its sealed juices spilling out.”

“That's recent, isn't it?”

That makes me wonder why she was so familiar with Tochigi Prefecture.

If she was, then she should know about Tamamo-no-Mae as well.

Falling behind the times, are you?

“If it is the ancient knowledge you seek, let your wish be fulfilled—in all seriousness, it is a good place to take the tsundere girl.”

“Not because the Senjougahara battlefield is there?”

“I think there was a tradition called the 'Festival of Rowdiness,' a bizarre celebration where people march while hurling insults. It would be perfect for somebody with her sharp-tongue.”

“I wish I could have told high school Hitagi about this.”

Now that she had matured, entered society, and found work, Hitagi's sharp tongue had been considerably subdued. She could no longer become a sarcastic news reporter. Nevertheless, in the sense of recalling the good old days, it was a festival with enough impact that I’d like to visit if I can.

“Where is that?”

“In Ashikaga City.”

“Are you pulling some ancient wisdom from your brain, or did you just read a guidebook?”

Maybe it wasn’t impossible that she was more looking forward to our honeymoon than I was.

On further thought, she had been constantly bound to my shadow, denied the freedom to move on her own. She, who used to be a wandering princess, traveling all over the world.

“I can hardly remember my time as an unmoored princess. I was traumatized by the forced travel. However, you took me to live in America for over a year. It's a fact that I have grown to miss Japanese food.”

“Weren’t you originally from Europe?”

“Shimotsukare may vary in taste, but I'm interested in trying Nasuben.”

“Nasuben?”

It was quite puzzling that I was continually receiving local Nasu information when I summoned Shinobu to investigate a mystery as a request of the Hearsay Department.

Despite all that, the trip was unavoidably intriguing; at its core, it was still a honeymoon.

To make amends for the name taken from my lover, I wanted to make it as good of a trip as possible.

“Ah, the nine-tailed fox is not entirely unrelated to Nasuben. It is an abbreviation of ‘Nasu no Makunouchi Bento.’ Although called a bento, it is more like a set meal; following the likeness of the nine-tailed fox, served in nine dishes.”

“Hmm, I guess the fox is deeply rooted in the local culture, unbeknownst to an ignorant person like me. I wonder what the fox dance is all about.”

“That is from Hokkaido.”

So it is.

In contrast to Shinobu, I had become quite unfamiliar with Japanese affairs. Even so, I couldn’t say that I had become well versed in Washington either. The most I had seen was the obelisk.

There was a sense of instability, as if I was losing touch with my roots. Nonetheless, it was not as destabilizing as losing my name.

…I should tell her about that, too.

It was an unavoidable topic when discussing our honeymoon to Senjougahara.

“Shinobu.”

“What is it?”

“Well, I wasn't sure whether to call you Shinobu or not… since I took your name. I thought that we should take this chance to delve deeper into that matter and discuss it properly.”

“It is a tad too late to be digging up something you have been glossing over with vague words. Although, I did overhear you talking about it with the tsundere girl.”

“Now that I‘m an adult, I feel that I must face the reality that I have avoided and establish a new ethical standpoint. First and foremost, the matter of when I saved you as you were on the verge of death after being torn limb from limb.”

“Is this book going to end with only that story?”

With a meta remark like that, Shinobu had swiftly cut off the conversation—indeed an impressive skill that could only have been honed over six hundred years. She tried to deal with my serious talk by turning it into a gag.

“I’ll cut it out and move on, but, it might have been necessary to neutralize you. Taking away your power may have been, but I can't help but think, looking back on it now, that taking away your name was a bit too much.”

“Aha. Well, in the sense of the supernatural, taking away one's name and one's power is almost equivalent—I must say that even the name Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade was given to me for that very reason.”

“Ah, yeah— by Death.”

“Don't you dare call her Death.”

Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicide Master— the purebred vampire who transformed the wandering princess Shinobu into a vampire.

Now deceased.

When I was in university, Shinobu and I journeyed to Europe—almost as if stowing away— to witness the passing of that purebred vampire. I must mention that this was a tale from before I became a cop.

“I see, that’s how it came to be. Before that, what was it again? When you were a wandering princess— a noble princess?”

“It was Princess Acerola.”

“Princess Acerola.”

“Do not ridicule my former name.”

“I’m not ridiculing it.”

“Before that, it was Lola. Yes, Lola.”

“You're trying to make me laugh, aren't you? The way you say it.”

“It was Road Roller.”

“Ah, there’s no escape.”

She was trying to make me sound insensitive. What a wicked little girl. There’s no way she was Lola.

“But that’s the hard part. I wonder if you became a wicked little girl because you ceased to be Lola, or if you ceased to be Lola because the name no longer suited such a wicked little girl. Which came first, the chicken or the egg?”

“If you put it this way, the chicken certainly came first. The reason why I became a wicked little girl was certainly because of you. You sucked my blood. Do not blame it on the name.”

To be precise, I had sucked her blood just up to the point where she ceased to be Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade.

But it's not that I wanted to avoid responsibility. On the contrary, I wanted to take responsibility.

“The name Oshino Shinobu has become almost synonymous with a blonde little girl, hasn't it?”

“I doubt that was the intention when aloha boy named me that. The reputation has been unfairly forced upon both the names 'Shinobu' and 'Oshino'.”

“Don’t you think it’s that you refuse to acknowledge their individuality by calling Oshino 'aloha boy' and Hitagi 'tsundere girl' instead of their real names?”

“You seem to be hell-bent on shelving me as a non-compliant character from the start. You used to call the aloha boy ‘dirty old man’ and 'aloha bastard.' In fact, it's quite disrespectful to the spirit of Aloha itself.”

“I wonder if giving someone a random nickname or continuously mispronouncing their name is no longer the trend. It used to be the hallmark of a great detective character.”

“On the other hand, when you were called 'Heart-Under-Blade's servant’ by the vampire hunters, did it not feel like it suited you perfectly?”

It did.

I could hardly believe that the version of me called 'Araragi-kun' by Senjougahara Hitagi and the one called 'Koyomi' by Araragi Hitagi were the same person. Also, when referred to as 'Araragi-senpai' by Kanbaru and as ‘Araragi’ by Oikura, even the differences between the two felt insurmountable.

Just as there ia no single truth, I’m not uniform either. With each different call, there is variety.

Araragi the boy and Araragi the detective; young Araragi and Investigator Araragi, they are all strikingly similar yet so distinctly different.

“It seems unexpectedly crucial how one is referred to, and I suppose a mere symbol like a name can't be easily discarded.”

Yet, I had done so, for Hitagi and Shinobu both.

“Maybe I really have no choice but to run for office. I'll soon have the right to stand for elections.”

“To think someone like you already poses a threat by merely possessing the right to vote, and now you seek to enter the realm of candidacy?”

“I presume that when you became a vampire six hundred years ago, there must have been extraordinary determination behind your decision, but what did it feel like to be named by Death?”

“Do not call her 'Death' again. While I cannot recall the experience accurately, I believe it wasn't bad. It was a rather cool name.”

And so, I had compelled her to let go of that cool name. On the other hand, you could argue that there is nothing wrong with either Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade or Oshino Shinobu, as long as she’s happy with it.

“To sympathize arbitrarily is also a feeling of blasphemy against the laws of nature.”

“Law is not a law of nature. As far as that tsundere girl is concerned, I think it is sad and pathetic to put a sinner's name on her.”

“Who’s a sinner?”

“But that may be what it means to be a servant. To bear half the name and sins.”

That was precisely the relationship between her and I—in this context, it might be unjust to bind Shinobu to the name Oshino forever. A producer's name is not displayed.

If one must bind, let it be my name.

“What is with that strange look in your eyes, staring at me after such a long time?”

“Don't say it as if I used to look at you with strange eyes often. No, no, I just thought that one day I'd have to take you to the Eight Seas of Oshino, too.”

“Taking the heroine all over Japan is too troublesome. Do you intend to become a great travel mystery author?”

“Well, I don't know where the Eight Seas of Oshino are, though.”

“They are in Yamanashi Prefecture.”

“Seriously, you know every nook and cranny of Japan better than I do. Yamanashi, yeah? The seas. Not seven seas but eight.”

“I shall be honest, they are not seas.”

“They're not?”

“They are springs. It is probably there that a woodcutter dropped his ax. With eight of them, it is bound to happen in one.”

“That was supposed to be a foreign fairy tale. Choosing between a gold ax and a silver ax, it’s like choosing between separate surnames for married couples. The truth remains submerged in the spring.”

“The Eight Seas of Oshino is a nice place, but I would prefer to visit Futarasan shrine in Nikko, where the legendary sword, Nenekirimaru, is said to be. I'd like to compare its length with that of the Aberration Killer.”

Our honeymoon plans were being continuously incorporated with outside arrangements.

I’d heard about the Nenekirimaru. I suppose the force pulling us toward battle wad quite strong. However, resolving issues through battle and violence was no longer the modus operandi of our times.

Futarasan Chugushi shrine? I remember hearing about Nikko's Futarasan Shrine from Hanekawa, but maybe it was a different place.

“The location is different. The Futarasan Shrine is a World Heritage site along with the Nikko Toshogu Shrine, while the Nakamiya Shrine is close to Lake Chuzenji. Well, although I have never been there myself, so I cannot say anything for certain. If you'd like, I could scout out the location for you. With a grand jump, perhaps?”

“It's not like we can allow ourselves a preview of our honeymoon, it would spoil the experience entirely. Revealing any plans beforehand is strictly forbidden. That being said, if we're going to be near Lake Chuzenji, I suppose it wouldn't be too far out of the way to visit Senjougahara since it's along the path. Was it Ashikaga where that rowdiness festival you mentioned takes place?”

“Indeed, the birthplace of the shogun family.”

“Ashikaga is also in Tochigi. Had the Muromachi shogunate been established there, history might have been different. So, Ashikaga City is at…”

Ungracefully, I checked on my smartphone, and found that it was far from both the Nasu Highlands of the Killing Stone and the center of Nikko's Senjougahara. It was basically on the opposite side of Utsunomiya. Since we can't eliminate those two, it seems we have no choice but to give up on the rowdiness festival this time. Although it would have been extraordinarily interesting in terms of tracing Hitagi's roots, surely such an odd festival couldn’t be held year-round.

We just couldn’t build our plans around a rowdiness festival.

“Considering our rigorous adjustments for a two-night, three-day trip, it's just impossible to cover the entirety of Tochigi Prefecture. Still, Shinobu, is there anywhere else you'd like to visit? If it's included in our route, we'll prioritize it.”

“That reminds me, was Irohazaka not in Tochigi as well?”

“Irohazaka…”

“It’s a slope with forty-eight hairpin turns leading to Lake Chuzenji. To be exact, there are separate slopes for ascending and descending. Each slope is assigned one of the fifty sounds of the kana, apparently.”

“Forty-eight slopes is impressive, but the Iroha song's forty-seven syllables—or even its fifty—don't quite match, do they?”

Should I search for an answer to this mystery on the internet? No, such knowledge must be acquired through experience, without prior research or preconceptions. If this is the slope leading to Lake Chuzenji, then it must be the very path to the battlefield.

“We’ll be going by car, you know. It's not a bridal car, not a camping car either, it’s a slightly larger minivan.”

A larger minivan may sound like a contradictory description, but yes, it's the only way to describe the size of the car that had been settled on after various replacements.

My Volkswagen was sold because I couldn't maintain it while I was away for overseas training. I’m sure it’s in good hands somewhere by now.

Maybe the car you are driving was once my Volkswagen?

“Don't worry, I'll arrange for a proper child seat.”

“Who could feel relieved after hearing that…? Wait a minute, master.”

“What's going on? Is this an emergency?”

“Although it is inevitable that I shall accompany you on your honeymoon due to our shared soul and body, do you truthfully intend to place me in a child seat before the tsundere and the monkey girl?”

“Ah, child seats may be embarrassing, but traffic safety takes precedence above all else. I’m also in a complex position with the Hearsay Department, the FBI, and the like. I still maintain that traffic safety— in this automobile-driven society founded on the auto industry— is of ultimate importance.”

“It may be your call to subject me to the shame of sitting in a child seat, but that is besides the point. As for the monkey girl, she will do just fine in any case.”

“Calling people monkeys is rather outdated, wouldn't you say? But monkeys come to mind when talking about Nikko. There might really be something to the notion that, in their ability to express remorse, monkeys are the more venerable creatures.”

“Do not impose upon me that trio of wise monkeys— see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. I share a bond with the monkey girl, born of a fleeting moment. Clashing souls— hers and mine— it was a rap battle that I remember well.”

“Your memory’s distorted.”

It was the time I clashed with Shishirui Seishirou.

Details were sparse, but reflecting on that occasion, I wonder whether 'she’s fine' would suffice to describe the connection that arose between them. For that matter, even the relationship between Kanbaru and me, forged in bloody battles, left much to be desired.

“That's right. To one such as I, acts of killing are no more than a daily, mundane occurrence.”

“An assertion as lofty as that of a divine being.”

“But really, master. What I wish to discuss is the tsundere girl.”

“Wassup?”

“There has not been a meeting, or so it would seem, between myself and the tsundere girl.”

Strictly speaking, there has been.

Before Shinobu had yet to be bound within my shadow, in the ruins of the abandoned cram school, under Oshino’s instruction—there was a little girl sitting cross-legged, with a deeply-donned helmet, tucked away in the corner of a classroom, and she had been spotted by Senjougahara Hitagi.

But that was it.

I couldn’t call it a meeting, nor could I say that they had exchanged any words—and as such, it could be considered that Senjougahara Hitagi’s bonds with both the King of Aberrations, and the vampire husk, were nothing much.

However, when it came to Araragi Hitagi, things were not that simple.

“We’re living separately across the sea now, but in the not-so-distant future, we‘ll be living under the same roof with Hitagi. It’s only natural that I introduce you to her then. This honeymoon serves as an excellent start for that.”

“I had intended to follow you stealthily by hiding in your shadow. Well, if need be, I can move to the shadow of your sister again, and stay at home like I did before.”

The former King of Aberrations, who used to treat everyone with arrogance, grumbled shyly.

It goes to show how heavy the sin of stealing a name can be, turning a king into such a timid character.

“I want to introduce my proud partner to my new partner.”

“Shall the Senjougahara battlefield become a true battlefield?”

“I chose my words poorly. I want to introduce my trusted comrade to my wife.”

Is the term “wife” even still appropriate in this Reiwa period? Unfortunately, I still lack enough information to gauge Japanese standards, let alone determine whether or not it is politically correct. But it feels quite proper and historically accurate.

Whether or not Senjougahara became a battlefield for real was another matter entirely, but there was a delicate balance that had to be struck— if handled poorly, Araragi Hitagi could revert back to being Senjougahara Hitagi. Nevertheless, this was not simply negligible.

Yes, it was to my younger sisters— Karen and Tsukihi, and even to my parents who were still at home— that I managed to conceal the existence of Shinobu during high school (as well as that of Ononoki-chan, who was living with us for a time). However, when it came to my wife-to-be, the story was different.

I had made a promise with Hitagi from the very beginning.

When we started dating, we vowed not to keep secrets about the supernatural from each other— so, in that sense, introducing Shinobu to her was long overdue. I cannot help but be astonished that I had neglected to address such a subplot for almost eighteen years.

“We live in a time when people get angry if you don't tie up loose ends. I can't believe it. The beauty of a story lies in the cobwebs it weaves, whether they are resolved or not— hasn’t it always been a secondary concern?”

“I understand what you are saying, but it becomes a big problem when you are the one saying it. No, there are many other unresolved subplots, are there not? Why is it that only now you are meaning to arrange a meeting between me and your tsundere girl? Was it not more beautiful to leave it up in the air?”

“Now that Senjougahara Hitagi has become Araragi Hitagi, it's time to finally change that 'tsundere girl’ title, too.”

“Why would that be?”

Personally, I would like Kanbaru’s title as the “monkey girl” to be changed as well, but chronologically, it should be the tsundere girl first, because—

“Because, you will be the girl— the daughter. Araragi Hitagi will be your mother.”

“Mother of all that is good, what?”

“Not of all that is good, just your mother. I plan to adopt you.”

The time has come— for Oshino Shinobu to become Araragi Shinobu.

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#monogatari series #ikusamonogatari #araragi koyomi #shinobu oshino #translation

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paintedscales · 5 months

Text

006. Arulaq

The day of the Naadam has come, and during her time there, Nomin's attention is brought to a tribe she had never seen nor heard of before thanks to Yul's excited observations. Though not much is learned from the Oroqi individuals who have traded with the Arulaq in the past, there is hope that Nomin might one day travel to see the valley they come from.

Word Count: 3,088

Steppe by Steppe Chapter List

The day of the Naadam had come all too quickly for Nomin. That was how it felt to her at any rate when she woke up to the excited chatter and commotion of both Sagahl and Oroq. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes and removing herself from the cover of her blankets, Nomin squinted about the ger, catching sight of Bayarmaa organizing a good portion of belongings into a crate, meanwhile, Esenaij was nowhere to be seen in the abode.

No matter… What really made Nomin pause to consider the day was the fact that on this morning, she would have undergone her naming ceremony with the other previously unnamed Tumet children. Part of her wondered amongst those fleeting thoughts of what she would have been named had she gone back. Yet she had her name, she chose it, and she was more than fine with that.

She was…no…she is Nomin.

Still, as Nomin sleepily removed herself from her bed and stretched, she thought back to previous Naadams that she could remember. She remembered going to higher ground to witness the Tumeti warriors partake in combat with the other warriors of the Steppe. When she thought of the Sagahl, on the other hand…

“... Are the warriors preparing for today?” Nomin asked, yawning at the tail end of her question.

Bayarmaa gave a slight start, looking up at Nomin from where she was cleaning up part of the ger. Placing a hand over her chest as a means to collect herself, Bayarmaa offered a small, embarrassed smile in response. “I didn't realize you were awake, Nomin. As for our…warriors, no. We don't partake in the Naadam on the last day of the Tsagaan Sar. It doesn't benefit the Sagahl to fight for leadership over the Steppe.”

“Mm…” Nomin hummed, processing Bayarmaa’s words as she stretched her arms over her head and then trodden over to where her clothes were normally kept. Nomin’s gaze fell to her old gutal for a moment before she opened a dresser drawer and rummaged around. She lifted some neatly folded garments till she found the copper shard that had been used in her trial.

Picking it up, Nomin turned it over in her hands, candlelight glinting off of it as it caught onto the metal. She then looked over at Bayarmaa, who kept her own gaze mostly pointed in Nomin’s direction.

“What do you have there?” Bayarmaa asked, leaning to the side slightly as if that would give her a better look at the copper shard.

Holding the shard up, Nomin showed it off to Bayarmaa.

“I was wondering if you could do something with this?” Nomin inquired, closing the drawer halfway and then walking in Bayarmaa’s direction. Her movements were a little lagged, indicative of the tiredness still present within. “Since…well, since you made the baras. I bet you could make it into a necklace or something!”

Bayarmaa held out her hand, and Nomin placed the shard on her palm. A soft sigh fell from Bayarmaa’s nose as she looked the shard over a couple times. Its shine was dull -- as if a discarded piece used for throwaway clothing. However, the edges were sharp, an interesting detail when metal fittings and decorations upon their clothes were often filed or dulled so they caused no harm. “I can see what I can do. This is that piece of copper from the story you told Esenaij, isn’t it?”

“Mhm.” Nomin had already been walking back toward the dresser so that she could get herself dressed more appropriately.

Bayarmaa hummed softly in thought and then reached down to a pouch on her belt. Tucking the copper shard away safely, she continued getting the area cleaned up and packed away. Occasionally, she stole curious glances in Nomin’s direction, watching her and studying her.

“Are you…disappointed? That the Sagahl have no warriors who fight in the Naadam, I mean…” Bayarmaa asked, turning her gaze back to the chores she took on. She was in the process of closing the crate as Nomin pulled on some thick robes to combat the chill of the Steppe.

“... Not really…” Nomin replied after a moment's thought. She tightened her belt and got her dagger secured to herself. “I know I haven't been here long, but I guess it makes sense. I like that about the Sagahl. I like that you don't really want to fight in the Naadam. I don't think I'd want to fight in it, either. Even when I'm an adult like you or Esenaij.”

A small smile grew on Bayarmaa’s lips as she went about the ger. Pulling down a tapestry that hung on the eastern wall, she folded it. “That is well. We like not conflict with other tribes if we can avoid it… But…it does stand to reason that life on the Steppe necessitates such measures. After we get to our next location, I'd like to teach you what I know if Esenaij can't show you how to shoot a bow.”

Nomin paused. She was already sitting at the edge of her bed, getting socks on her feet. A look of contemplation grew on her face as she slowly pulled the thin fabric over her feet. With a few more moments of thought, she finally gave her response: “okay. Esenaij won’t be able to just travel to Reunion every day, will he? He can definitely teach me how to use a bow!”

Bringing a hand to her mouth, Bayarmaa chuckled softly. “Indeed. I’ll make sure that he actually sees to it.”

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The gathering of other tribes to watch the Naadam was astounding. As it ever was. It was also awe inspiring to see many different standards to indicate the tribes stood up on long, wooden poles proudly billowing in the breeze over many different groups of people. This was the first year that Nomin really took more involved notice of these standards, noting the different colors, symbols, and even different standard shapes that some of the tribes adopted as their own to represent their people.

By virtue of the Naadam itself, Nomin and many of the more passive tribes that attended the Naadam as an audience had little to worry about. Those that were more wanting of the thrill of battle found themselves already upon their hard-earned yol companions from the trials of Bardam's Mettle. Restless warriors rode their yol all across the presumed site of the Naadam, as everyone was still waiting for the Gharl soilbearers to make their appearance and spread the earth. To mark the start of the Naadam.

The Gharl Iloh was visible from where Nomin stood, their many ger erected and devoid of color -- pure white, waiting to have been stained by the new year's travel over the land. Nomin recalled how the Tumet sometimes traveled early enough to watch the Gharl arrive and set their ger up. She had overheard at the time that their ger only looked clean and spotless, but it was because they set fire to their old clothes and ger canvas to meet the new year in wholly new garments that will show their stories as the year progresses.

Looking around as the Sagahl traveled alongside the Oroq to a high enough outcrop, she looked for colors and tribal standards that she could pick out. The Oronir had been easy enough, with their bright colors that represented the bright sun of Azim. She saw the Dotharl as well -- ever the warriors that would charge into battle. In addition, there were the Adarkim, Qestir, Dataq, Goro, Olkund, Buduga, and many more of which she could not yet identify.

“Do you need some water, Nomin?” Bayarmaa’s voice broke Nomin’s concentration. Looking up at her, Nomin nodded and accepted the waterskin. She went back to looking out at all the standards, only occasionally looking up at the warriors that excitedly flew overhead on their yol.

“Whoa! The Arulaq are here, too!” Yul exclaimed, jabbing a finger out toward the standard that flew alongside the Khatayin's. When the Sagahl and Oroq traveled to their location together, he followed along after Chotan, who had not been that far away from Nomin, Esenaij, and Bayarmaa herself. He had since worn the wreath of flowers Chotan made for him around his neck.

“Arulaq?” Nomin walked over closer to Chotan and Yul, tilting her head in confusion. She had never heard of the tribe before. When she looked at their standard, she kept the symbol upon it in mind.

“Y-yea!” Yul started in response, glancing over at Nomin. He grinned, an opportunity to show off knowledge he had pleasing him. “We Oroq met them once when we were traveling down close to the base of the Tail Mountains one year! When they come down from the mountains, they're always with the Khatayin! They don't speak a lot of the same Steppe dialect we do, so the Khatayin often translate for us and them so they can trade and attend any tribal meetings!”

“They don't speak the same dialect as us? Why not?” Chotan lifted her hand to her chin, cupping it in thought.

“Dunno, truth be told…” Yul's expression fell to contemplation. “I think when I overheard some conversations with the Khatayin and Oroq elders, it was because the Arulaq had been sequestered away in a hidden valley! Apparently they never really needed anything from the rest of the Steppe and just stayed there until the Khatayin stumbled across them one winter! So they've been seen with one another more oft than not. For the best, probably. The Arulaq don't really have warriors than they do hunters since they've lived away from all the Steppe conflict for so long.”

“Yul has the right of most of it,” a gentle voice spoke. Nomin recognized it, and the three children looked in the direction of the voice. Yul’s mother was approaching them, a soft smile upon her lips as she looked out toward the Arulaq standard. “We’ve traded with them at some point with some minor difficulty. They have valuable ore and herbs found in their little valley that can be found nowhere else.”

Nomin’s eyes shimmered at the idea of a valley that had things she had never seen before. Biting her tongue momentarily, she pointed a determined gaze up in Esenaij’s direction. He looked back, and his brow quirked with immediate suspicion and annoyance. He was not necessarily listening in on the conversation, though Nomin’s expression only filled him with some level of dread.

“No.” Esenaij folded his arms over his chest, staring down Nomin, his gaze unwavering.

“I didn't ask you anything yet!” Nomin’s mouth fell open as she now started gawking at Esenaij in disbelief.

“You’re thinking of asking something, and the answer is no.”

“What was it that you were going to ask, Nomin?” Bayarmaa asked, peeking around Esenaij with a pleasant look on her face that spoke more to mischief than genuine curiosity. In response, Esenaij’s expression fell and an irritated sigh was soon expelled. His hand came up to pinch the bridge of his nose in slight frustration.

“Since Esenaij travels out from the site of Sagahl often, I wanted to see if we could go to where the Arulaq live! I want to see the valley where all that rare stuff comes from!” Nomin eagerly said in response to Bayarmaa, her hands balling into excited fists that came up to emphasize her desire. The shimmer in Nomin’s eyes returned as her little tail flicked skyward with Bayarmaa entertaining her clearly curious nature.

“Did you really have to ask her about what was on her mind?” Esenaij grumbled, pointing his annoyed look of slight exasperation down at Bayarmaa.

“Whatever are you talking about, my one and only dearest brother?” Bayarmaa asked sweetly, happily hopping away with a slight twirl to her step as she stuck her tongue out at Esenaij before looking back out at the expanse of land. Raising a hand, she shielded her eyes from the sunlight and looked around. A low ‘ooh’ left her lips as she waved her hand to beckon Nomin and the other children over.

Sweeping her free hand forward, Bayarmaa eagerly pointed a finger in the direction of the four distant Xaela, robed in pure white, and riding atop horses just as pristine. They were majestic, in a sense, as their horses strode calmly and elegantly across the grasslands. The one that led the van held a clay urn that had no lid to it. When more of the audience and warriors caught sight of them, cheers erupted, starting low before rising into a raucous series of whoops, whistles, and elated cheering.

“The Gharl soil bearers come!” Yul exclaimed once he saw them, his eyes lit up as he gazed upon the Gharl. His tail wiggled to and fro with his delight as he stuck close to both Nomin and Chotan

One of the Gharl soil bearers dismounted, followed by the three others soon thereafter. Nomin watched as they walked out onto the land, the leader holding her urn with practiced care. Tilting the pot, the soil bearer spread the soil of their last location onto the land. Once the last of the dirt was poured upon the land, battle cries from the warriors erupted as they charged for their prize -- the ovoo.

“My next harvest is on the Oronir again. With Sadu of Dotharl still a child in their current incarnation, the Dotharli warriors have hardly the support needed to claim the ovoo from the Oronir. Especially with the Buduga having recently allied themselves with them,” Esenaij said, folding his arms over his chest. “The Dotharli people may be known as the ‘undying ones’ with their reincarnation, though that will do little to avail them this Naadam.”

“Sadu? Who is that?” Nomin asked, looking up at Esenaij.

Bringing a hand to his chin, Esenaij squinted before looking around where the Dotharl standard was raised. He pointed toward them and said, “the young girl with the white hair.”

When Nomin finally saw who Esenaij was talking about, there was a moment's consideration. This Sadu looked to have been the same age as Nomin herself.

“That is the future khatun of the Dotharl. Some would even argue that she was khatun the moment she had been born and determined the fallen soul of their previous khagan,” Esenaij explained. “But look how she carries herself. Tall, proud…and already in possession of the staff of the previous khagan. The Steppe is lucky she is too young to fight.”

“... Is she powerful?” Nomin questioned.

“We are yet to know fully. If she is indeed the true reincarnation of their previous khagan, then she will be a mighty force to contend with in several years’ time…. It is only fortunate that we Sagahl have no desire to reign over the Steppe. We know our strengths in knowing the land and its creatures. Fighting the Oronir, Dotharl, and the Three Giants would do little for us…” Esenaij said, frowning. “Though I cannot deny the Dotharli girl already emits such a powerful aura. Even at this distance…”

In that moment, the events of the Naadam became just background noise, slowly muffling as Nomin’s attention kept itself on Sadu of Dotharl. She was not quite sure why she was drawn to the other girl, but something about Sadu drew Nomin’s attention far more than any combat or competitive show on the grasslands below for the ovoo.

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When the clamor and dust settled, there was one who had captured the ovoo and was now dubbed ‘khagan’ for the year. A Dotharl man stood the victor for he and his tribe. There were cheers and whoops to celebrate the victory, though there were also groans and murmurs of concern from those that thought the Dotharl too battle hungry and bloodlust driven.

However, Bayarmaa was beside herself with laughter.

“So your next harvest shall be going to the Dotharl instead?” Bayarmaa asked, her hands on her hips and a wide smile upon her lips. “And you were so positive that the Oronir were guaranteed to win this Naadam!”

A frown was set heavily upon Esenaij’s face as he made no attempt to retort or respond to Bayarmaa. Nomin, however, only giggled alongside Bayarmaa at the turn of events. Though another thought entered her head when she realized what that also meant. With a small gasp, Nomin’s tail flicked up and she looked up at Esenaij.

“Esenaij! Can I go with you to visit the Dotharl Iloh?” Nomin asked, her eyes sparkling with the thought of being able to travel the Steppe and see other tribes and peoples. Not only that, but learn more of what other edible or beneficial plants there were that the Steppe offered. Granted, as not a true daughter of the Sagahl, she was missing meat, but perhaps she could hunt if Esenaij allowed it.

“So that I might suffer more of your questions and inquiries? No,” Esenaij replied, folding his arms over his chest.

“Bring Nomin with you, Esenaij…” Bayarmaa said, chuckling softly still. She then echoed Nomin’s thoughts: “it will be good for her to travel the Steppe! She needs to learn more about what we can find, how we prepare it while traveling, and if you’re headed out toward the Dotharl Khaa, you might as well also show her what grows on the fringes of Nhaama’s Retreat. Teach her as you taught me of the Steppe.”

A small growl of indignation came from Esenaij, though Nomin had been happy that Bayarmaa was at least on her side when it came to doing more fun stuff. Plus, Nomin was unable to learn much about what was in season at this time and would have to wait till spring had arrived properly. Skipping up to Esenaij, Nomin raised her hands to him with a grin.

“I’m not picking you up,” Esenaij sighed. He had declined such silent requests since Bayarmaa told Nomin how he carried her from his wain to their ger. A pain, now that he had to deal with Nomin’s random ‘requests’ for being carried. Though he was met with a pout from Nomin, Esenaij started making his way back with the other Sagahl and Oroq to their site.

Bayarmaa, on the other hand, was finally coming down from her amusement. She shook her head at Nomin and gave her a mischievous look. “Don’t you worry about Esenaij and him leaving you behind. I’ll see to it that you’re ready to travel with him in the coming days.”

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #xaela headcanons #xaela arulaq #ffxiv au ra #au ra xaela #xaela #oc: nomin tal kheeriin #oc: bayarmaa sagahl #oc: yul oroq #oc: chotan sagahl #oc: esenaij sagahl #sadu dotharl #NTK:Chronicles

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