{ Sorry for the disappearing act, although that’s not as important as what this little post was originally for…
In order to keep long stories short, my personal preferences have encouraged me to make this muse private. Therefore, I will be leaving this blog and turning it into an archive and shall pick up again on a new one.
Nothing is being reset, however (such as relationships), but it’s just that I’ve recently began to feel a tad overwhelmed on Red and would simply like to start afresh―and in a more comfortable environment. I would simply enjoy it more if I made my baby boy available to friends only… As for the threads I have drafted or currently running, they will simply be answered on the new blog.
And last but not least, for my url, it’ll also be the same. So if I’m someone you’ll be looking for, then there’s that. (I love this one as equally as kingofkanto!)
I would like to apologize to those who were looking forward to more from me, and especially to those who just followed to find out that I’m just―suddenly blurting something out like this… But this is a decision that I feel is the utmost best for me and I do hope you can all understand my weird reasoning.
⊰ . ♦ . ⊱ — ;; Firm insistence is prepared for his protests; she knows he’s strong in his own field, but she can’t have him risk the proximity. Lips part to tell him no, he can’t gamble his life in the presence of grief’s sentient form—but vitreous agreement falls from his lips, and she exhales in relief, one weight off of her heavy burden.
She turns back, hand retreating into her unseen arsenal once more. It slides back out—brings out munition that fits eerily well into her palm.
❝…Pitiful thing.❞ She speaks to it over the foreboding beeps from the weapon in hand, as if it can hear her in its paused state—
—and promptly lets it fly.
It all transpires at once, seeming to shake the very ground. Color floods back into the once-stagnant labyrinth, motion recommencing around them. Elastic appendages finish the maneuver they had begun, curling around the Magi that had not fled the battlefield, but she’s quick to leap out of their way. And the monstrosity realizes only too late that it can taste gunpowder on the tip of its tongue.
The roar and the blinding flame of the weapon’s ignition splits the air in two, and the being concedes defeat with a cacophonic shriek, its psychedelic kingdom wavering and crumbling and leaving only a single ebony sphere encased in silver.
Homura leans down, takes it into her hand, and turns to face the entity’s unfortunate target.
❝Are you alright?❞ ⌛
⊰ ♚ ⊱ ― ；❝ …Yeah. ❞
Dismissed compensation for however many seconds the prodigy had previously wasted, nascent rhythm but a few steps behind her own; a tame signal nearly lost among inward attempts to soothe his racing heart. Gaze fixates elsewhere, gratitude mute before his tongue is swiped over chapped lips.
His turn again, relief arriving in a slow fall of his chest, cardinal raised to greet amethyst, and his stare is expectant. Demands are subtly made.
Red remains silent, his words useless pieces in this waiting game.
BASICS name: ʀᴇᴍɪ ★ age: stopped counting after the 1400s (ww) sexuality: fuck no relationship status: splash free! eye color: blue height: 5'2"
WHAT IS YOUR favorite season?: autumn/winter favorite movie/s?:[SLAMS FIST ON TABLE WHILE WEARING A GODZILLA COSTUME] favorite album?: you’re fucking kidding me favorite band?:right ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) favorite quote?: “If you should die before me, ask if you could bring a friend.” favorite shirt?: a red university of kanto shirt
DO YOU smoke?: nah drink?: on special occasions write?: fucking duh play an instrument?: nah
DESCRIBE
your favorite place: my bed your favorite memory: TOO MANY your ideal partner: myself your bedroom: pretty tidy save for the clutter on the shelves yourself in three words: marquis de sade.
⊰ . ♦ . ⊱ — ;; She risks but a brief instant to whirl around and heed the outcry tainted with horror, lest there be some imminent danger she somehow failed to notice. The distress splayed across his visage is so uncharacteristic, so out of place. It doesn’t belong on the face of someone so brave, composed, contained—she has to be the one to melt it away, but even after the wards would waver and fall away, there would be explanations to give.
She ends another of its minions with yet another bang that pierces the rigid air, left to face the overseer of combat, who emits some shrill cry akin to the laughter of a killer. It wastes no time upon seeing its servants fallen, surging forward in one swift motion, countless limbs greedily encircling the both of them.
Her astute gaze snaps back to the trainer.
She doesn’t even need to consider her next move, hand reaching for the timepiece.
Turn it back
She has to hurry. She doesn’t have forever, even with everything at a complete standstill. Homura makes haste, seizes the wrist of the elder with her own slender digits. Secrets would be unveiled—secrets even the subject of her wish was oblivious to—but if he couldn’t move away, it would be the witch with him in its grasp, and not her, once everything is set in motion again.
❝—Run.❞
She can’t have him in the vicinity of her next move. ⌛
⊰ ♚ ⊱ ― ；Interlude is finite, bated breaths released upon its decay a sputtered heartbeat later. Dazzled embers would wander about the world she’s miraculously managed to keep at bay―effortlessly fashioned around them like a maleficent decoration―the fingers she’s suddenly curled around a thin wrist, and he notices that her touch is a tad warmer than he remembers, pulse thrumming wildly against her grasp.
Her name poses as a familiar weight atop his tongue.
❝ I can’t just― ❞ Nothing but a whisper now, suspired tremulously a flutter closer; lungs shuddering around her cloying fragrance of cordite and lavender, but he doesn’t mind.
Her eyes ball his hands into fists, bright and unfamiliar and determined―and it gets the better of him, a ragged plea shaping his lips before he hangs his head low in surrender, brittle agreements following closely behind. A free hand reaching for hers all the same. Obediently, Red withdraws―
⊰ . ♦ . ⊱ — ;; ❝Stay back, Red. It will kill you.❞
Already, she’s lost one important to her—time and time again. She can’t afford to lose another, who has somehow managed to penetrate her walls of stone.
With an amaranthine flash, she’s clad in threads to match intent optics, locked on the entity ripped straight from a painting. Strapped to her left arm is her defense, her storage, and her lifeline. Her other hand is quick to unsheathe her weaponry from within it—something that, from her superior’s perspective, she likely should not possess.
It’s the familiars she aims for, first, much more numerous and quick to target the both of them. She makes haste, taking aim at the master’s army—and fires. ⌛
⊰ ♚ ⊱ ― ；It would simply pass but a brisk moment later: splendid radiance, the ebb of madness from which she would strike, methods signaled by distinct cracks of sound―her heels, the arsenal she seems to draw out of thin air (bulky shapes and ugly contours brandished against the masses of savagery, much too unsightly for a child such as herself).
And Red would hover only inches behind, a thunderstruck witness to the realization that she is a huntress; form regal and erect as routine chaos is faced with ironclad composure, a finger poised over triggers until a resounding bang bang bang and dust isn’t allowed to settle.
Thoughts swirl into anxious mosaic, brain foolishly willed into the futile attempt in devising a strategy of his own. There has to be something he can―
❝ ―Homura! ❞
Bristled with an edge of hysteria upon its haphazard fall from grace, and he contains the rest within a sharp inhale.
Ripped from his throat in a broken rasp, seconds taken for panicked scarlet to attempt to analyze their ominous surroundings―to press into the hideous thing that danced before them; the daughter of an abstract frenzy.
