My computer has died and I’m not sure when it’ll be repaired, so there won’t be much writing coming from me as I hate writing on my ipad. So yeah, a short hiatus will take place.
To be honest, I really hope that I can one day write out a thread where Mei see’s the color of death in someone. It would be a terrible thing, it would traumatize her beyond no belief, but I feel like it could be turned into something good. Perhaps someone is hurt really badly, like bleeding to death or some really unrealistic situation, she could see in advance that they are dying and get them help. She could turn something she hates into something helpful. I think it would really make Mei feel something, for once.
And of course, I want her to grow. I want her to laugh and find joy in the simple things, like she did when her sister was alive.
Gahh, I love these types of questions.
gahh, there’s so many interesting muses rolling in! im so excited to see everyone’s perfect muses and flawless threads!
She wasn’t really sure when wandering became her new hobby. However, it did not matter in the slightest, as she only thought of it as a good thing. Good things did not require thought, they only required enjoyment and that was how she felt about them. From wandering, she had gained an understanding of the town’s delights. The bright shops, the old and vacant alleyways. She already created a mental map of the city, Too. Or at least the interesting parts. Sometimes, her sister’s, Misaki’s, image would register in her mind. Mei would think back to the time they spent together and silently wished that she could have brought Misaki here. However, Mei tried to push those thoughts away as she tried to enjoy the city rather than find her past in it.
But she kept finding it. She kept seeing the clothes that her sister would have worn, the swings they would have jumped off. Mei, in her attempt to try and keep those thoughts at ease, decided to enter a little coffee shop. She had never experienced coffee and did not care to, but in the window was steaming pastries. Those, she wanted. The little cow bells chimed as she walked in. It was packed with a mass of people, and she instantly bumped into a body. She did not mumble sorry, just maneuvered away from them and into view of the where the bakeries were held.
After moments of looking, she was enticed. Some of the sweets were American, some British. Mei had never seen such a large array. She almost smiled to herself, but right as the moment came, something bumped into her. It was hard, like a shove and she stumbled forward a few feet. Did someone just push her? No, not that. Mei thought to herself, not wanting to believe that someone would want to physically hurt her. Her old town had enough brutality for a lifetime, and dear, she did not want it to continue at Bunkyo.
I still have to make starters for:
And have made them for:
I don’t know why I’m in such a stump. Ideas just aren’t coming to me and my writing isn’t pleasing me, either. But I’ll try! I’m also figuring out whether I should pick up Ringo as a muse, and just have a little amount of threads on this account. Hmph. I’m not sure.
Well, sorry for all the waiting! Thank you for putting up with me. c:~
Mei dedicated a day to unpacking her stuff. In doing this, she realized that a whole day for such an endeavor was too much time. It gave her all these intervals to think about her past home, a place she never reserved much thought for, as it was simply a space. It was just where her belongings were held, not even a home. A home, by popular belief, would be have little memoirs in corners, miniscule ornaments that remind the family of past events.
Or home could be the place where you feel most comfortable, who you feel most comfortable with. Well, if that was the case, then that place was dead and gone. Mei slipped into her newly-made bed thinking of that. Misaki was dead, Kouichi was gone. But she didn’t feel too badly for herself, in a way, self pity seemed like a foolish thing that people felt to cope with life’s difficulties. She’d rather deal with reality head on, but in silence, it was harder thought than done.
That’s why she was a bit relieved when the doorbell downstairs rang, actually, it wasn’t a doorbell. It was the little bells that hung from the entrance and sounded whenever someone entered. Her relief was flushed with fear when she understood that someone had actually entered the shop, and at such a late hour. Mei mentally slapped herself for not locking that entrance. She slipped from her bed and into some slippers, clad in a regular blue nightie. She looked around her room, there was nothing that could be turned into a quick weapon, nor did she own any.
Mei made way downstairs. She didn’t hold anything to protect her because she simply didn’t like violence. It was a compulsive thing that spoke for emotion in the form of hurting another, and she didn’t think that was a good way of communicating. Words hit harder than punches did, but once she reached the bottom, she doubted she would need to use either of those methods. It was just a boy.
I’ll try to get to starters today! I only made one for Senna so far, sorry for the wait! Letttt’s write some more, Taylor!
When it came to scenery, she didn’t find it the most interesting. In her old town, it was compacted to the point where everything looked the same. The trees appeared as if they had remained from prehistoric times, but grew old and weary over the years, as moss now hung from their limbs. The school was next to the hospital, and her house lie near that, hidden behind vines just like the rest of the apartments. However, there was one place that she vividly remembered. One that was not a blur, but a light in her memory. The broken down amusement park, its rides were rusting away, but it was a gem compared to the rest of her town. It still had hope, with its children playing on industrial rides and licking their ice creams with delight.
Bunkyo had that type of hope. The type that was just there. She did not how it got there; either through the cracks in the sidewalk you stepped on, or the far off laughter that rang in your head. All she knew was that she did not want that hope. Not again. Never again. She had nothing against the city, but for now, the lights reminded her of the one’s overshadowing her sister, as death almost took her, and later did. All the hope Mei had developed, all of it rushed out of her and she didn’t want it to return.
So she droned along a sidewalk, and that sidewalk lead to a road, that road followed to a man-made river bank. Like a cement pedestal to jump off of, and what a sadistic thought that was, because if you were to jump then you would most likely greet death. That was why a shiver ran down her spine when she noticed that someone was actually on the ledge. It peaked her interest in a few ways. Was the person going to jump? Mei would not stop them, it was not her choice to make. But if they weren’t, then what courage possessed them to do something so utterly dangerous?