zarahjoyce: (Default)
I lol'd ([personal profile] zarahjoyce) wrote2017-03-24 03:21 pm

(no subject)


Oddly enough the sky overhead was weeping the next time their paths crossed. She noted that the daemon markings on his skin had grown to cover most his face, but she had no time to lament his fate, as he'd already taken the first move and raised his blade against her.


He was in the middle of enjoying his drink when he heard them; plentiful words meant to degrade the "traitor to the abbey." He knew he had no reason to make any sort of ruckus, but then those people resorted to using very unpleasant words to describe her, and, well--

--if the Bloodwings knew just who massacred an entire pub full of men, they weren't talking.


His clothing was quite loose, but now that she knew what lay under them she couldn't quite help the blush staining her cheeks whenever her thoughts started to stray. She was quite certain she could control them, but sometimes, at the most inopportune moment - especially after she caught a glimpse of his bare chest as he trained--

(I said forget it!) 


She'd stopped talking to him days after the bath house incident; not that he didn't try to initiate any sort of conversation, it's just that she refused to be baited by any of them. Unable to control himself any longer, he'd told her look, I'm sorry I said your butt is bulky. I wasn't trying to insult you; I was just stating a fact--

--and then his foot positively throbbed after he realized, belatedly, that she'd just stomped on it. With her heel.

He couldn't walk properly for a day after that.

(Hey! I said I'm sorry, didn't I?)


A horde of daemons appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Eleanor stifled her panic; calmly, she reached for her spear and stood before her people, forming a silent barrier between them and those who wished them harm.

She'd only taken the first step towards the daemons when those at the very back gave off a shrill cry, then fell forward with their heads no longer attached to their bodies. The crowd soon parted to reveal a purple-clothed samurai, sword resting on his shoulder, donning a grin that looked out of place in the carnage he'd just caused.

How are you, Eleanor? You doing okay?

She smiled back, right then and there. I am now, Rokurou. Thank you.

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