The towering, cackling apparition filling the sky isn't the first thing on her mind - miraculously, even as her every laugh cuts down through the air, lashes her shoulders. She registers none of her commentary, no stinging remark, no verbal bruising. No, the kerakera onna gets very little attention from Kirigoe Mima; her voice might as well tune away with the voices of the rest of the people on the street, dimming slowly to a droning buzz, voices slurring together.
Eyes. All around her, eyes. Still, sidelong stares. The bright edges of faces flitting in the corner of her gaze, brightly lit like masks in the slanting neon of the streets, eyes shadowed and stark. Their brightness vanished as soon as she turned her attention to them, doubling away behind the harsh wash of colour that flooded every street. First a few, and then every face, turning to stone just out of her field of vision - melting back into their own lives, stoneflesh slipping away beneath her frightened glances.
Eventually, as she staggered from one bewilderment to the next, they didn't look away anymore.
Some formed a small arena around her, their forms melting together in the brilliant shadows of street signs and red-light advertisement. Devices held out, capturing her unraveling in approximate frames. Two things the shadows cut into their faces, as they formed a ring around her - their watching eyes, and their smiling, amused mouths.
Air assaults her. Mima lowers her head and clutches the strap of her bag, as though she would fall through the pavement if she didn't. Impossible pressure, crushing at her chest. One figure dwarfing the rest, made completely of dim blackness.
She turns to escape and stops. ]
wildcard
( or hit me up!!! i'm super flexible and open to plotting over pms! )
kirigoe mima | perfect blue | ota!
[ Kerakera onna?
What kerakera onna?
The towering, cackling apparition filling the sky isn't the first thing on her mind - miraculously, even as her every laugh cuts down through the air, lashes her shoulders. She registers none of her commentary, no stinging remark, no verbal bruising. No, the kerakera onna gets very little attention from Kirigoe Mima; her voice might as well tune away with the voices of the rest of the people on the street, dimming slowly to a droning buzz, voices slurring together.
Eyes. All around her, eyes. Still, sidelong stares. The bright edges of faces flitting in the corner of her gaze, brightly lit like masks in the slanting neon of the streets, eyes shadowed and stark. Their brightness vanished as soon as she turned her attention to them, doubling away behind the harsh wash of colour that flooded every street. First a few, and then every face, turning to stone just out of her field of vision - melting back into their own lives, stoneflesh slipping away beneath her frightened glances.
Eventually, as she staggered from one bewilderment to the next, they didn't look away anymore.
Some formed a small arena around her, their forms melting together in the brilliant shadows of street signs and red-light advertisement. Devices held out, capturing her unraveling in approximate frames. Two things the shadows cut into their faces, as they formed a ring around her - their watching eyes, and their smiling, amused mouths.
Air assaults her. Mima lowers her head and clutches the strap of her bag, as though she would fall through the pavement if she didn't. Impossible pressure, crushing at her chest. One figure dwarfing the rest, made completely of dim blackness.
She turns to escape and stops. ]
wildcard
( or hit me up!!! i'm super flexible and open to plotting over pms! )