#kafkaisms

[guhamun]

@kafkaisms said (inbox):

“ baguette or focaccia? take it from me, the ham slices here are to die for. ”

HMM…THAT WAS A good question, and not one he had ever been expecting to be asked. Baguette, or focaccia…? Both of them had their pros and cons depending on how they were put together other ingredients. Although, by themselves, they were just as delicious, most especially if taken fresh out the oven. ❝Normally I would select a baguette for sandwiches, but there’s no denying that focaccia is also perfect for ham and cheese. It has a very distinct taste that brings out the natural flavors of the ingredients used.❞ Not many held such discussions with him, and so, he was rather pleased to share his insight into something that he enjoyed. ❝Since you have made me curious… I think I’ll get a sandwich from here for lunch.❞

[battingchaos]

@kafkaisms sent: ❛  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ❜ / prompt / accepting

"No. Because you said that twenty-two minutes ago..." Stelle's patience is completely sapped by now, she sits up, and leans over Kafka, hands pinning at either side of her head and staring down at her with a pout. "... You promised I'd have you for the day, and I'll have to be back on the express by tomorrow." With that said, she presses her forehead against Kafka's and big yellow hues lock on. Nose nuzzling against hers.

After a moment, lips press gently against Kafka's and seals a desperate kiss. "I want you. I want more time with you before I have to go." One hand gently caressing the woman's cheek now, index rubbing circles softly against her skin. Stelle doesn't know when she will get time away from the express like this again, she doesn't know if Kafka will even give her time like this again. It terrifies her to think it might not happen again, to think that she has to lie to everyone she cares for to keep this secret. The more she laid in that bed thinking about it the harder the knot in her chest got.

"Come on, I'll make you breakfast, or we can go out... Whatever you want."

[araneitela]

@kafkaisms replied to your post “Knowing/talking to @astrxlfinale is like this...”:

your cat is cALLED MARA

​Yes, YES, she is! I didn't name her, it was already given to her by the rescue I got her from. But in HSR, it always makes me laugh, and I do say it to her often, just in that silly pet voice and I go 'It's good you're nothing like the evil mara that plagues our poor Bladie who we love so very much. (She's a Tortie, so she's quite talkative, so she'll usually meowpurr in response here) Yes, I know, we feel very bad for our Bladie--"

But she's exceptionally sweet, she's almost 16 now and as a typical pet owner, I must now showcase little miss to the world:

[yingren]

cups the tiddy. hm.

❝ hm. ❞

cups her tiddy right back?

[grislyintentions]

Continued from here (x) || @kafkaisms

'Locate: Kafka' had been the directive given to Diting by the Trailblazer at the behest of the Xianzhou Luofu authorities. It is this very same order that propelled the bionic dog forward with purpose as the events unfolded. Due to it's relatively small stature, the speed in which it is able to proceed with is greatly reduced.

Yet what it lacks in size and speed, it makes up for in perseverence as well as resourcefulness. In order to accomplish its mission, Diting climbed into containment blocks, wandering until it caught traces of the stellaron hunter's scent again. When it finally tracks her down, there is little hesitation in the bionic dog wiggling inside. 

"WOOF!!"  There is a sense of satisfaction in having completed its task. Soon followed by an expectant bark as it awaits further input, dangling from Kafka's grasp. 

"BARK??"

[wingsoar]

Unprompted, always accepting.

@kafkaisms asked: " poor darling. "

"Control   your   fiendish   pervert!"   

CONTROL   HIM,   she   says.

[astrxlfinale]

sighs. hands him a packet of IPC brand condoms.

"I see. Always trying to ensure the tactical advantage is kept, no?"

Within this moment he'd reach form, allowing his hand to fall upon the box of IPC specialized condoms. He's likely aware this holds the most horny brand of technology made, all in the name of Credit worthy, for why would the IPC exist if the goal wasn't to allow people to get the bang for their buck?

However, there was a moment's hesitation as he gently lifts the box from Kafka's hand. He knows she truly means well, but in the same vein, there should be a little more faith shared for the one who intends to conquer adventurous stars with a timeless tale. "Appreciated, but unwarranted. I've made sure that all my avenues are considered. This here? It's no different. You know there's a path where the fire and forge runs strong, where enclosing and isolating are very important. I have an ability to keep things contained."

"While things may look bare at a moment's notice.. All it takes is a moment of tempering. Then the question through choice, changes."

"Who's a better brand of protection then yourself?"

Meanwhile, somewhere, in the deep dark void of space:

@kafkaisms

With the special guest star of @jueying's Dan Heng.

[finalism]

@kafkaisms : ❛ promise me you’ll still be here when i wake up. ❜

sometimes it's hard to forget that kafka is not infallible. she always spins such an intricate web, always knows what strings to tug for everyone to fall into the palm of her hand. she is powerful and the destruction she leaves in her wake is nothing short of pristine. but despite it all, she is still human. she can still bleed, can still be broken.

crimson eyes watches her chest rise and fall just for the small comfort to know that she is breathing. the lights are dimmed and it is only kafka's pained breath that pierces the silence in the night-cycled ship. she was hit hard judging by the bandages wrapped 'round her chest, abdomen and down her left arm. something about a stray bullet leading to a devastating blast. ren had been gone on his own mission when it happened and had only just returned to see the damage already done.

while each hunter is capable and the best at what they do, the swordsman can only feel remorse that he wasn't there. what a terrible thing, to be away and oblivious to such pain. will he be off on his own script when she finishes her? will he even know it is her end? would he even have a chance too--

kafka stirs, bringing ren back to the present. his hand reaches out to press firmly against her right shoulder. " careful, your wounds have yet to close. " they all make terrible patients, ren has found. as the only one who never needs medical attention, he is often the one to stay diligently by their bedside and make sure their recovery goes smoothly. firefly is used to hospital beds and silver wolf spends her time playing games on her phone. but kafka... kafka is difficult.

she doesn't fight -- or rather cannot fight -- his strong grip and soon sinks back into the mattress. he watches her face as the pain begins to set in, as the memories of her mission come back to her piece by piece. it's then that ren reaches up to allow more painkillers into her IV. " silver wolf downloaded the necessary contents. the mission was finished. " in case she didn't know. if only to put her mind at ease. " go to sleep. you need it. "

maybe it is the painkillers which allow her strength to move or maybe it is her sheer tenacity. either way, ren cannot help but tense when her hand weakly grips his arm. promise me you'll still be here when i wake up. expression softens an almost imperceptible amount as muscles relax in remission. it sounds almost childlike. if it were anyone else, ren would believe it is to chase away the demons of sleep or in those first waking moments. but kafka has fought demons all her life and does not feel any fear. maybe she knows that this is what he needs; to stay by her side after being absent from the moment of injury. or maybe she just wants his company.

either way, ren has no intention of denying her. ren's only response is a gruff noise of acceptance before he lays himself down on top of the sheets. on his side he continues to watch her like a wraith, waiting for her to close her eyes and find the peacefulness of sleep once more.

assorted dialogue prompts / not accepting.

[lunaetis]

@kafkaisms replied to your post :

kafkat chomps down HARD on her ankle.

─「エデン」─  " OUCHHHHHH !! WHAT THE — YOU !! COME BACK HERE !! " well, you didn't specify what kind of bite, so serves you right, eden.

[battingchaos]

@kafkaisms sent: [ SMS ] … a little heart from an unknown sender. a faceless image of a fancy looking drink and a gossamer patterned glove - ‘ hope you’ve been well. let’s keep in touch. ’

a welcome interruption to idly swiping in her game, nowhere near her own previous high-score. heart suddenly racing away, no stopping it now.

[SMS, REPLY]: happily replying in a flash with a heart reciprocated to start 'i'm at my best when i know you're treating yourself . . . saw a coat and glove matching set somewhere, let me know when you wanna look for it together'

sadness absentmindedly rests within her eyes as she hits send, she misses her. she's thinking hard enough that she can almost smell kafka's perfume. an ache in her chest, yearning. sigh heaves roughly from her chest and she resumes her game. aeons what she wouldn't give to smash a few monsters into tiny pieces today . . .

[yingren]

[ death ] and/or [ fight ]

[ death ] sender just died, receiver finds out.

was it always meant to end like this ? of course it was. someone out there must have seen it coming, must have known it was inevitable long before it happened. maybe, just maybe, even kafka knew. so then, why did it happen ? there was a time in ren’s life when he firmly believed that knowing something terrible was coming was reason enough to stop it. that awareness alone created an obligation — to act, to change the outcome, to prevent the worst from unfolding. if nothing else, pain could be avoided, or at least delayed until he was ready to face it. but over the years, his mindset has shifted. maybe it’s the weight of the curse he alone carries, or maybe it’s the sheer number of horrors he has witnessed — and even caused. either way, the inevitability of misfortune no longer shakes him the way it once did. when another hurdle appears in his path, he no longer meets it with the same urgency to resist. if he knew kafka at all, he’d say she had embraced that understanding long before he did. that even if she had seen her own death approaching, she wouldn’t have tried to stop it. he used to admire that about her, used to praise the way her mind wove intricate schemes and accepted fate without hesitation. but now, that admiration feels meaningless. futile. because she isn’t here to share it with him.

there are countless ways to be wounded, whether it’s a paper-thin cut that barely stings or dragging yourself through a battlefield with your body split nearly in half, every filthy, living thing spilling from your torn flesh. ren has seen both. he has survived both. and yet, nothing quite compares to this. this loss. this raw, aching grief. grief that can unravel even the most composed man, turn an unshakable mind into something brittle, crumbling under the weight of absence. the absence of something, someone, that was once constant, a presence so familiar it felt like a given. but permanence is an illusion. time is sand slipping through open fingers. death is an unmovable pillar, an unchangeable truth anchoring the timeline in place. he cannot change it. he doesn’t want to change it. all he can do is find a way to live with it. and that, too, is ironic — that one person’s death inevitably forces everyone around them to learn how to live all over again.

❝ i can find her. i can do at least that. ❞ because the only thing worse than losing someone is losing them to nothing. without hesitation, ren would turn the universe inside out to give kafka a proper burial — to ensure her body, or whatever remains of it, isn’t left to decay in some forgotten place, unrested and unacknowledged. it isn’t as selfless as it sounds. part of him needs this for himself. to be certain she’s truly gone. to know, without question, that he won’t spend endless nights pacing in circles, arguing with the facts, picking apart every detail in a desperate attempt to prove otherwise. to have closure, even if it never truly settles in. but there is nothing. no answers, no certainty. only silence. a suffocating, absolute quiet that seems to steal the voices of the remaining hunters, stretching on longer than a moment of silence — yet still less than what she deserves. he hasn’t cried yet. hasn’t mourned yet. hasn’t fully accepted it. grief, cruel and inescapable as it is, will have to wait. denial, denial, denial. his fists remain clenched at his sides as he repeats the words once more. first in his mind, then aloud.

❝ i can find her. ❞ he can try. ❝ i have to. ❞

[shrineofprophecy]

“ anklebiter. ”

"Your kinks are showing."

[wingsoar]

Unprompted, always accepting.

@kafkaisms asked: " why not join the stellaron hunters? we - you included - could all use a little entertainment. "

"W-What?   Kafka   ....   are   you   being   serious?"   seafoam   gaze   widened,   not   at   all   expecting   the   woman's   offer.

"I'd   rather   not   find   myself   on   a   wanted   poster   .....   I've   had   enough   scandals   for   a   life   time   ....."   though   she   was   a   bit   curious   on   what   she   meant   by   'entertainment'

[astrxlfinale]

@kafkaisms replied to your post “"Seriously. They pull up to me, the most innocent...”:

"uh-huh."

​

Oh shoot.

Well! If he's going to prolong this this understanding here, an abrupt move needs to be made! And by move, this Trailblazer is going to be sweeping her up in a bridal style fashion.

"Naturally you'd know about that, right, Kafka? How I've been nothing but a model case of innocent activity? Y'know, like pruning the flowers in the yard. Tending to the roses."

[charmonys]

❝  it's  a  source  of  popular  rumor  that  halovians  have  an  innate  ability  to  read  the  minds  of  others ...  although  in  truth,  calling  it  mere  telepathy  is  a  gross  oversimplification.  ❞  precise  thoughts  are  incommunicable.  rather,   ❝  harmony  and  life  itself ...  the  two  can  be  seen  as  relatively  interchangeable.  even  the  beating  of  one's  heart  is  yet  another  melody ...  each  living  creature  is  a  symphony  unto  themselves  —  and  through  this  halo,  i  can  'hear'  them  all  the  same.  ❞  the  harsh  discordance  of  anger.  the  high,  fluttering  beats  of  a  first  love.  the  low,  weary  drone  of  a  misery  so  deep  he  can  all  but  imagine  the  vibrations  seeping  deep  into  his  bones.  ❝  when  i  walk  through  crowded  spaces,  i  feel  the  joy  and  sorrow  of  the  people  as  though  it  were  my  own ...  ❞   the  words  trail  off,  punctuated  by  a  shuddering  breath  —  like  the  incalculable  weight  of  so  much  shared  suffering  is  nearly  enough  to  crush  him  beneath  its  mass.

then,  he  turns  —  laying  eyes  of  molten  gold  upon  the  stellaron  hunter.  lips  part,  and  yet  sunday  hesitates  for  a  noticeable  stretch  before  he  finds  his  voice.  ❝  you  are ...  so  quiet.  ❞  his  tongue  feels  too  clumsy,  too  mundane  to  convey  what  he  feels  in  simple  words.  ❝  no  matter  how  closely  i  try  to  listen ...  i  can't  hear  your  song.  ❞

@kafkaisms &&. liked for a STARTER.

[pantachorei]

@kafkaisms asked: “ you catch on quick. “ ➠ sentence meme. | accepting !

what   else   would   be   expected   of   him   ?   a   stellaron   hunter,   on   the   other   hand,   was   unlikely   to   boast   the   same   thing.   tied   to   that   fabled   script   of   theirs,   ratio   presumed   they   would   find   themselves   hopelessly   out   of   their   depths   in   situations   entirely   removed   from   it.

then   again,   that   faith   in   fate   may   well   colour   them   complacent   instead,   unmoved   by   whatever   circumstances   might   be   tossed   their   way.   generally   speaking,   encountering   a   stellaron   hunter   was   not   particular   a   stroke   of   luck,   either   way.

❛    you   are   wasting   your   breath   with   that   pointless   flattery.   ❜