| Sunflower (Amaterasu) |
[29 Apr 2008|07:40am] |
Hachiman couldn't remember coming to New York City. In all of his many years he'd strayed from Japan but rarely. Those were treasured memories, more precious to him than jewels. He'd often considered the idea that by traveling the world, he was cheapening its worth in his eyes. That by seeing all of it he would actually sour his opinion of it, so that one day Hachiman-shin, Yawata no kami would finally hate everything he was supposed to protect. Well, almost everything. Hachiman stared grimly at the wall in front of him as the pathetic words of whoever this person next to him was washed over him. Rather than a pair of swords, he was carrying sunflowers. All bunched together. It was a foolish idea. What did they call this, a bouquet? It hardly seemed a fitting word for sunflowers. You could find them anywhere here in this country. It was tradition, wasn't it, though? Every time he had met Amaterasu, except outside that cave, he'd been carrying an armful of sunflowers as a gift and show of respect. He had only recently come to realize how foolish that was. She didn't seem to think it was foolish, but she might have, and merely hidden the thought away. This was not a proper way for a swordsman to act.
( He should have stayed in the bar. )
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| Awakening (tag: Erebos) |
[29 Apr 2008|10:43pm] |
Okay, that was the last time she was ever falling asleep on the couch with the television on. Especially not TVLand. That was a screwed up sort of dream, it really was. At least what she could remember of it. Worst of all, she’d woken up crying.
Of course, that might have been because she was in physical pain. Somehow that had been translated into her dream. Apate returned to consciousness to the feeling of sharp cramps in her legs because she’d curled them up against the back of the couch and hadn’t moved them. The burning, shooting pains weren’t too bad once she started moving again. But her arm was another matter. She had used it as a pillow and cut off the flow of blood to that limb, causing it to fall asleep. It was completely numb when she woke, which was a far better circumstance than when circulation started again and the pins and needles began.
A bit of exercise and a quick shower helped quite a lot. At least, physically. Mentally, it was a bit tougher. A lot of the dream was lost in a muddle of half remembered scenes and vague recollections of emotions that she didn’t want to be hers. There was something about roses and dandelions and rocks. Buddy Ebsen and Bill Cosby. Dolos. ( Her father. )
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