Misc. Genshins Vs Twitter P.3

misc. genshins vs twitter p.3

For the asks - E?

E- easiest person to talk to

in all honesty, probably my little brother… he’s annoying in the way all siblings are, but I know I can be open with him? Thanks for the ask!

my first post here! here’s me as chuuya at this year’s otakon!

misc. genshins vs twitter part 1

A

A- are you single?

yyyyup! single as a pringle! Thanks for the ask!

the beach

A short story/poem I wrote for English class.

The sunlight off the sand is blinding no matter which way you peer, the tiny glass particles catching the golden beams and flinging them every which way. You turn to the sea instead, hoping her cool waters will provide a reprieve, but she, too, is enraptured by the sun’s merciless light, white flashes glinting off the cresting waves as far back as the horizon in uneven stripes, drawing to mind the lines and swirls in a half-mixed lump of paints.

The repetitive swoosh-crash of the waves attempt to lull you to sleep, the foaming water reaching desperately for the shoreline before being pulled back, resisting, into the deep blue-green depths. Another wave crests, and the cycle repeats anew, the sea throwing her grasping hands onto the sand, clinging to anything she can and dragging it down with her.

You watch this show and know in your heart that if you were to go down there, the sea would grab you too, pulling you into her gaping maw, down down down past sea-foam teeth and a lashing tongue, for while the sea may not be malicious, nor does she care for you.

Over your head, an airplane sputters by, a rippling flag ordained with bright colors trailing behind it like the tail of a decorative bird. It circles the beach like a vulture, the cheerful advertisements preying on those below with promises and pleas - you need this! - call this number now! - we can help!

A few sea-birds, voices loud and attitudes louder, circle in to land beside an abandoned towel, and they pick through the sand for scraps with the keen eyes of hunters. One of them makes a discovery, a half-eaten sandwich buried in the sand, and attempts to make off with its treasure. You watch as the other gulls surround the lucky one, snapping and biting at its prize. Soon enough, the meal is stolen, and just as quickly the birds turn on the victor instead, a vicious cycle that lasts until there is nothing left of the sandwich at all.

To your right, a group of children play in the sand, digging a crumbly hole deeper and deeper, past the scalding layer of dry sand into the cool, dark, layer below, burying themselves like sand-crabs waiting for night. You wonder whether this is all that remains of an animalistic instinct now long-gone, the echoes of desert creatures hiding from the sun and heat.

Not far behind you, a lifeguard tower creaks in the wind, a wooden monument to those who dare to grab back from the sea’s grasping fingers. The sky-blue paint that coats the wooden planks is chipping, peeling in some places and faded in others, and you wonder how long it has been since it got a fresh coat.

Beneath you, your scratchy towel shifts on the sandy ground, and you are reminded that the beach you lie upon is nothing more than thousands and thousands of pounds of tiny rocks, microscopic grains held together only by pressure and moisture and sheer determination. You realize that if the sea does not claim you, the earth surely will, for she could open up right now and swallow you whole.

You curl up smaller on your towel, hunching into the fluttering shadows provided by your flimsy umbrella, the only barrier between you and the relentless, gleaming sun. You begin to feel drowsy, the cool shade and the sea’s lullaby stealing away at your conscious mind, sleep’s gentle fingers seeming more and more appealing as your eyelids grow heavy. You hope only that when you wake, you are still safe under the umbrella’s protection.