#aworldofunrealities

[servant-of-the-rose]

Few people have entered the mansion

ciqian xregale kisa-shouta-the-uke a-world-of-unrealities

knock knock

The butler heard a sound of knocking from the gate. He looked at the clock, it was already a midnight. Who would even dare to wander in the middle of night?

No, it was not the right time for him to keep thinking about that. He would surely find the answer after he open the gate for the person. So, he walked towards the gate and opened it to whoever the person was. And he saw that the person was alone. Was the person lost or searching for his master?

"Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked. His usual warm smile attached at his usual pale face.

[a-world-of-unrealities]

Unfortunately...

The time has come to say goodbye to Kasumi. While a fun character, I lack the motivation to roleplay her anymore, and this blog will be deleted at some point in the future. Sorry folks, her time has ended. Consider this an archive blog for now. It is no longer in use. Later, I will let you know where you can find me.

[timewalkerofshizume]

Notepad

Put “Notepad” in the inbox for my character to tell yours a passing thought they have about them.

"I know Kasumi likes rabbits but I wonder if she likes stuffed cats and bears too. Should I ask her? ...Nah, I’ll just discover that for myself."

[skateboardingyatagarasu]

"We're alone now, you could kiss me"

"A-Ah. I-I guess w-we could." He blushed as he looked away from her, not really sure how to go about it.

[irresolutus]


✖

;questions about your character.

✖- Who is someone they just cannot stand?

「 While the captain can be rather irritating at times, Seri wouldn’t particularly go so far as to say that she can’t stand him. She still respects him, as she should for her king, though there are undoubtedly moments where she’s mildly disturbed by his attitude.

Her fellow clansmen are still bearable, and none truly seem to seek her hatred; however, she can admit that on occasion, Fushimi and Domyoji tend to get on her nerves for acting foolishly — being too condescending, in Fushimi’s case, and too immature, in Domyoji’s.

She should like to say that any rival clans who threaten her own are on her bad list, but seeing as she isn’t as relatively close to them as she is with her own clan, that judgement is a bit flawed. Seri is too unfamiliar with other clans and their members to accurately say that she can’t stand them; therefore, she appears to be skeptical of them, but not completely exasperated by them. 」

[a-world-of-unrealities]

"K-Kasumi, w-we need to talk. D-Don't worry, i-it's n-nothin' bad." He stared down, poking his pointer fingers together.

Although his words belied nothing of negativity, his averted gaze and words alerted her that something needed to be addressed. For whatever it was...she had no clue.  Lips dipping into a frown, she puzzled over the statement briefly, fingering a lock of chestnut hair before she spoke. Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair as she spoke, tone tinged with uncertainty as her words quavered. "T-Then...w-what's on your mind?"

[skateboardingyatagarasu]

Ruffle

There was a smile when his hair was ruffled by her, though he lowered his head a bit as she did.

[ustrinx]

a-world-of-unrealities:

Whether due to drink or her medications, Kasumi found her world wrapped in the dark silence of sleep.  However, this welcomed cocoon did not last long, broken by a rough, low voice, the words decipherable as someone endeavoring to awaken her.  Grumbling, she shifted slightly in the bed in an effort to shake the other off, before she realized that there was something touching her shoulder, something that felt like fingers, which meant a hand, and…she didn’t usually share beds with other people.  Struck by that realization, she bolted upright, pale oculars wildly scanning the room- a room that she hastily surmised was not her own.  

Dark brows shot upwards, her skin paling as she allowed her eyes to settle on the stranger- a man with vermillion hair.  For a moment, her mouth was agape, hanging open like a fish. There was a pause, in which she struggled to grasp at composure, closing her mouth abruptly, teeth worrying her lower lip as one hand reached upwards, rubbing against her eyes, and then pulling away, as if to chase away the image of the man beside her.  Unfortunately, he was still there, closer than she usually permitted strangers to get, meaning that this was not merely some nightmare.  This, her waking up in a strange room in Vegas, without really knowing how she had gotten into his room in the first place, much less the events that transpired the night before to lead to this.  

Finally, she found some sort of courage to speak, a nervous chuckle escaping her lips as cold sweat dripped from her brow as she fished for the proper words to say in this situation.  ”Umm…who are you? And what happened?” 

           "Suoh," he gives only his last name, for it is what he is most often addressed as. Though, it's a rather curious name, really, for it was odd to find someone of the last name 'Dragon', yet Mikoto did not think much of it. Nor how fitting it was for the sort of person he was. He's soon out of bed, pulling on clothes as if pretending the night before did not happen. He does not bother to check the sheets, ask for a name, introduce himself properly--he's not a man of decorum despite retaining a rather highly ranked position. It seems as though he's disregarding her completely, studying her carefully for only the briefest of instances before the ritual of denial proceeds to initiate its curious little dance once more. 

           His shirt is pulled on--gaze sweeping the room once--twice before he locates all of the girl's belongings. The man moves to gather all of the items before placing them beside her upon the bed. "Not sure," he's speaking at last, neither harshly nor in an amiable sort of manner. Mikoto had always been the sort of person that struck fear into others. It was a pleasant surprise to have not heard a scream yet nor feel a blow brought to his face or any other... undesirable... areas. it wasn't as if he were capable of retaliating--the chivalrous rule of not hitting women within his ephemeral. Not that he wouldn't fight a woman if push came to shove. Yet it seemed one of the few strokes of politeness within him. Though, it wasn't as if she would be able to note such curious traits within him. "Guessin' we both got drunk and y'know," he says it bluntly--as if completely unaffected by the magnitude of the entire situation. Though, it is merely another odd trait of his to be so atrociously blunt regardless of what may or may not have transpired before.

[timewalkerofshizume]

❧

❧ describe their usual sleeping position

Satsuki is a really messy sleeper. She initial sleeps in a fetal position and when she wakes up, she is either in a freefall position or a starfish position.

[deus-regnante-blog]

✦

Detailed Headcanon Prompter!

✦ : Fatal flaw

While it might not be considered as a "fatal" flaw, seeing as Munakata himself is respectively good about keeping himself in order and away from internal troubles, he does in fact have a certain tendency to come off as overconfident or cocky at times.

The fact of the matter is, that when he forwardly shows off his pride -- be it through demeaning comments directed at another or simply because he appears to have a high self-respect level -- he can get side-tracked from the current situation, as most may.

Despite that, it's not necessarily something that may bring him to his downfall. Having confidence, even if there's quite a lot of it, in yourself, and believing that you are a worthy man will not negatively affect the future. As a habitual matter, Munakata has never let himself be side-tracked in vain; he only argues for his benefit when it relates to his confidence, rather than letting himself be lost in it.

[a-world-of-unrealities]

Announcement

Hiatus.

[skateboardingyatagarasu]

"by your side till you heal"

The crow’s eyes opened slowly, taking in the surrounding area, before they landed on Kasumi. “H-Hey. What’s goin’ on?”

[timewalkerofshizume]

Pastime

Pastime: Three hobbies I have that I would be embarrassed to know someone discovered.

If she is alone and has her music on, expect her to sing…really, really badly. (She is always off-key.)

She keeps a book journal in which she writes an entry for every three days. Don’t look for it.

Stay away from her collection of books found on the lowest selves of her bookcase. That’s her fan book collections.

[the-blue-echo]

OOC

I may or may not add another muse to this blog- an older muse. That, or just revamp her blog and redo Kasumi as a whole.  Any thoughts? 

[a-world-of-unrealities]

"Honey I'm Home" (Closed thread with kamamoto-twins-rikio-reiki

Technically, the marriage wasn’t real. Or at least, a temporary one, lasting a week at most , so that “till death do you part” was pretty much void, as far as Kasumi thought. Still-a week to be “wife” to Rikio..well, as her thoughts drifted towards the possibilities that could happen in that time.. Her cheeks warmed, roseate spreading across her skin at the idea, while her lips tugged between a frown and a slight smile. Bah, it was too early for such ponderings-especially now , as she strove to complete a landscape, the direction it was taking unknown, even to her. Pausing in her work, she placed the brush gingerly into the tray, tilting her head to the side as she regarded the piece, momentarily distracted from thoughts of Rikio and their week long “marriage”-null in her pale eyes.

Silence wrapped around her like a blanket, separating her from reality as she eyed the swirls and blotches of color, eyes narrowing, brow furrowing as her arms folded over her chest. Knock, knock, and the door to her studio abruptly opened, sending a crescendo through her ears. Color drained from her face , skin breaking out into a sweat as she veered around, knocking into a bucket of opened paint that resided on the nearby shelf, sending blue liquid flying through the air and splattering her body.

Her eyes darted around wildly for some moments, until they noted the familiar form of Rikio. Flicking away streams of paint that raced down her face, she chortled-long and filled with mirth, albeit wobbly as gobs of paint were haplessly dabbled at by anxious fingers that sought to rid her of at least some of the mess. Of their own accord, her heavy work boots plodded languidly towards the visitor, steps dragging and achingly loud in the ear-splitting silence that followed the crash, upper thigh bruised, smarting from the impact.

"Ehehe. I didn’t expect to see you this early, Rikio," she called out, chuckling slightly all the while, lips parting to flash the other a rocky grin, one hand rubbing the back of her neck.