My time is being completely eaten by school and procrastination. I don't know what to do with my life anymore.
Besides read. And read.
And read some more.
Nocturne's LamentNot unexpectedly, it had been another stressful day for him. The reasons for his stress are far from important in this scenario; the main aspect is the need he felt to get out of the castle and breathe in air untainted by the smell of ink and overworked bodies. The reason wasn't the cause of his fleeing, but the stress itself shoved him out the door and into the rain without an umbrella to shield himself.Nocturne's Lament by Kyori-Hiketsu
He couldn't find it in himself to regret not grabbing at least a raincoat before dashing out into the storm, more specifically because he was distracted almost immediately by the dirty man tucked between the roots of one of the many giant trees on the grounds. The rain that soaked through his clothes became the least of his worries, even if the water running down his back was ruining the fabric he had spent plenty of money to acquire.
He called to the man from where he stood, but didn't get a response. He at first thought that maybe the man was unconscious, but the man adjusted himsel
CircumstancesLeo and Flynn,Circumstances by Kyori-Hiketsu
I'm sorry I haven't written in quite a while. Things have gotten complicated and it's been hard finding the time to write you two. Nothing exeptionally terrible has happened yet, but there was quite a brawl the other day when we caught a rival spy sneaking around our territory. Not that that's the reason I'm writing now, but I thought I should mention it.
In all honesty, I'm beginning to doubt my decision to come back here and help out my unofficial family, because of the possible outcome lurking not too far away in the shadows. These people are important to me, but they're not as important as you two, and I would rather not leave you two behind just because I didn't want to leave them to fend for themselves. They've done so before, lasting years without me, so I don't know why I'm here now and not there with you two-- but I'm not turning my back on them now. I'm sorry if I've upset you, Flynn, with my absence. I promise I'll be back as soon as I can.
Leo, I have a favor
Just a KidOutside, the kids of the neighborhood ran around each other, their jovial laughter drifting to ears out of sight. It was unclear what they were playing, but it was obvious they were enjoying it anyway.Just a Kid by Kyori-Hiketsu
One of the kids stopped in their tracks and pointed to the sky, not in awe of something mixed among the clouds, but as if a thought had just hit them that he found incredible. The other children stared in confusion, until the same kid pulled a cloth out of his pocket; he explained something that the kids' silent, unknown observer couldn't hear, and before long the other children were just as animated.
The observer allowed the smallest of smiles when he grabbed the closest girl and tied the cloth around her eyes, before shoving her forward into the eagerly waiting group of kids. Soon, the game began, whatever it was, and they were running circles around the blindfolded girl while she swatted wildly in all directions.
Their observer couldn't understand how their made up game was entertaini
Winter's PortraitI suppose the metaphor that would best fit our family would be the painting fitted into a perfectly good frame.Winter's Portrait by KiwiPrin
The painting has already been completed as to our father's wishes. The frame is exquisite, absolutely exquisite - crafted from gold made with the sweat and blood of humans. Stained blood red by the same blood of those who made it. The portrait was of him - but painted over with blood red, then covered with the darkest black imaginable. If you peer closely enough, you may be able to see specks of the red underneath the black. If you use your imagination, you may see the portrait of my father underneath it all. This is how my father painted the portrait, and this is how we were expected to maintain it.
We started off with ten. Ten children, ten heirs, ten painters to continue on his legacy. We started as he did, painting blood red over the black. Our numbers dwindled as six of the ten tried to stray from the plan. Those six did not make it very far. As they were rid of, one by