Avatar of Serum
  • Last Seen: 7 yrs ago
  • Joined: 9 yrs ago
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    1. Serum 9 yrs ago

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9 yrs ago
Current Absolutely everything is going my way. There's gotta be a cosmic balance sooner or later, but for now I'm just riding the high.
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A small house. A taut canvas. Adept brush strokes slowly and painstakingly coming together, mixing hues, connecting lines, and caressing each other in intricate patterns. And the sound of screaming outside.
A pale hand dabs at a bright, viscous blob of paint on the ground, then raises itself to touch at the canvas, hesitating first, then changing position and hesitating again. It repeats this for several minutes without adding anything to the painting in front of it, then abruptly drops the brush.

Kurai Gensō is a quiet man with few likes and many dislikes. Most prominent among these are inefficiency, being forced to work, and, currently relevant, the inability to concentrate.
Wordlessly, he stalks to a nearby table, attaching several long wires to an apparatus by his ears on the way. When he arrives, he snatches the pair of gauntlets lying on it and quickly dons them. His next path leads him directly to the door.
Pushing it open, his ears are assault from many directions at once; this is no singular matter but a coordinated attack on the city.
"Just my luck," he mutters, then reaches inside and grabs his umbrella, then proceeds to leap towards the nearest annoyance in chakra-infused bounds across rooftops. As he had expected, a Konoha shinobi standing in a pool of blood comes into view, verbally and physically assaulting a woman, whose husband is presumably the fresh cadaver at her attacker's feet.
With a flick of one of his kunai, Kurai attracts the attention of the invader. Silhouetted by moonlight and standing atop a building, he cuts an impressive fugure, not that it seems to phase the Konoha ninja. Softly, barely audible from the distance between them, Kurai begins to speak.
"I can guess what it is you're doing here. I assure you: I couldn't care less. You can fight. You can kill. You can plunder. All I ask is that you do so quietly. If you cannot do this...we will have an issue. I do not wish to be disturbed. If you can respect this, I will return to my home and you may continue your business. If not...I find that I can create my art with some 'assistance'.
I give you two options now: we do this the easy way, or the 'I kill you' way."
Oh man, I can't wait for my bestest day ever. I'm probably gonna do a little time skip to later in the night so I can leave YamaMom's rant to the imagination.
And I'm gonna finish writing a passage I was working on for something else. But I'll be back. Promise.
We could say something like "The next day" or something. Or Urbanliner could do something. Or I dunno. All I know is that I regret digging a hole I can't get out of.
GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF WOMAN. CONTROL YOUR URGES.
But actually though, I get it. I just don't have quite such a visceral reaction to adorable things. Maybe it's a girl thing?

Edit: Yeah, I was wondering how we were gonna do plot at this point. I've wrapped myself up for the rest of the IC night, unless I want to write out the rant. But I don't. That would just detract from it.
Lies! Lies and slander! YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE. Besides, I prefer to huggle my plushies. Glomping is a lot of work.
Sorry, but nope.
I don't show my affection for things readily because I'm too cool and mysterious for that. *sparkles*
Glomps. Yes. Been glomped before. Can't say I'm averse to it, but don't expect me to go around just glomping stuff.
Uh.
*pats her head*?
As an interest check, I'd say that this is an absolutely scintillating topic. I wish I could participate when it gets made, but due to my current schedule, I don't think I could. But, y'know, for your interest check you can check me off as interested.
@Princess Sakura Aw, thanks. I took a little liberty and made it more in the style of a novel, which was better for describing setting. I like to think that descriptive setting is my forte when writing, although I wish I'd had the time for a more complete description. I'll probably keep filling it in in chunks as we go on. As for your writing, I'm sure you'll do fine. We each bring something special and unique to this, right?

Edit: Hehe, @Princess Sakura, your latest IC post is, like, super adorable. And dang, you did fine yourself with the depiction of the throne room. Knew you had it in you!
[Ichiyo, still in his waiter's uniform, runs up to the front of a house and stops. It is a small house, but has two floors. It is currently lit only by the streetlights on the sidewalk in front if it, which cast light on the powder blue siding and dark green shutters. Typical of a cozy, suburban house, it has a white picket fence enclosing the small front lawn, most of which is occupied by a low-cut hedge that serves as a second fence and grows along the house, seemingly creating a double barrier. A gate centered directly in front of the door has a simple, cobble path leading to the door, and is largely covered by grass.]

*sighs heavily in relief as he sees that there are no lights on, then reaches back into his backpack and fishes around for a moment. Pushes through the gate and steps up to the front door just as he locates the key he was searching for, then inserts it into the lock and jiggles it about before turning it and pushing the door simultaneously. Turns right without even bothering to inspect the room to his left or the staircase in front of him, and tosses his bag next to the blue couch, then plops himself right in the center of it, reaching his arms out across the back, and sprawling widely, head leaning back to face the ceiling, eyes closed.*

[For just a moment, he is the picture of exhausted peace; a tired figure relaxing in a darkened room at the end of what had been a tedious day at work and an unusually eventful trip home. Then a light turns on at the top of the staircase, seeping into the adjacent room, and a shrill voice punctuates the night. YOUNG MAN, WHAT IN THE WORLD WERE YOU DOING OUT SO LATE? YOU KNOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE HOME...
A low groan emanates from the dark room. The rant has only just begun.]
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