The Feeling Is Familiar. Comforting, In A Way.

The feeling is familiar. Comforting, in a way.

He is far from perfect. ━ The way he holds the flute in of itself shows a muscle-memory touting his knowledge of how to use it, the particular way the fingers were trained to hold an instrument engrained into him, and awkward still, how one does when it has been a long enough time to know how to place the fingers but not how exactly to move them; practiced and timed and only slightly clumsy, the fingers still move, and his breathing still narrowed and trained to make the flute sing. ━ sing, sing, for a concert of one.

( maybe he'd deny it if the others caught on that he had been playing for her, and her alone. he hasn't decided yet, what to do when the group came back. )

He fumbles the notes by the end, the way someone does when they forget how it goes and must improvise; then Dandie speaks, and he ━ as though remembering himself in the same strokes of gladness that at least, in some way, it had helped enough to offer words ━ pulls the instrument from his chin.

" You doth not know a great deal about myself, Lady 'Lion. " Rouxls answers, soft in the remark like a gentle reminder as he picks something off the end of the flute with his nail. It's made of a silvery metal and dark red wood, maybe the same kind as all those passed trees in the forest. ━ It looks old. Well loved.

" But as for mine r'corder, it hath beenth a longe time last I'd played, " he admits, almost embarrassed for a moment " I am quite rusty, t'is impressive even to myself how much I recollected of the tune... "

After a moment, Rouxls' head turns, body still stern & straight like a coat-tailed tower 'gainst the dark and endless sky, and offers a smile that tries to be kind, almost uncharacteristic if not for the hesitance plaguing beneath it. Uncertain, as if unfamiliar, or more unknowing what he himself wants to do. Why he's done this at all. ━ to repay her kindness, however brief, however simple. a part of him wonders, as he looks at her, if this is how all Darkners feel when looking 'pon Lightners. The impulse, itching like instinct, to help, to soothe, to do something to make it good again, make it happy.

Rouxls does not try to make this this happy. Rouxls only tries to let it be better, let the sitting with worry of which he can feel in the darkness that makes him be a little more bearable, a little less lonely.

" Pence for thy thoughts should you wish to share, mayhaps? " he inquires, before adding as though feeling he must offer reason, " You seem troubled. "

@quillheel planted : Rouxls has noticed the absence of such a jovial attitude, and after a while of silently sitting by her, has taken to playing a tune on his flute for her. It has been a long time since he'd practiced, but- well... if Dandelion had brought such life and music to his world, he ought to try to return the favor, no? if only to prove her inspiration did not go to waste.

𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲. the tune stops her heavy thoughts in their tracks, if only for a moment. how would they get home? would the kids be safe? would they all be stuck there, forever? concepts that settle, some, when music is offered. soft and lilting, she can't help but glance over, as though she didn't quite expect the duke to have a prowess for woodwinds.

a smile comes, then - genuine, even if her worries persist.

" ...i didn't know you could play. "

More doodles of Futaba doing Indomie mukbang and wearing Lain pajama.

I like the new brush.

[storm] (Ryuji or Goro!) - @fantomevoleur

[ storm ] sender sees the awful weather conditions outside and insists receiver stay the night and ride it out.

“ You have to be joking. “ is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

The remark is incredulous, a tinge of suspicion on the underside of his tongue, and perhaps only distantly patronizing, depending on how you looked at it. perhaps a challenge, beneath that, beneath his teeth like nerve roots lined with arsenic. a challenge to force his hand, a challenge to convince, a challenge, challenge, challenge.

or maybe it’s not there at all, but still, he raises a brow at Akira, hand resting on the long-since-closed cafe doorknob, collar popped in preparation against the snow hailing outside. the balls of ice tap the glass panes of windows like many unseen fingers. It makes Akechi antsy.

wine red eyes glance back out the window, watching as heavy snow falls, the creep of cold running out from under the door and tracing lines up his leg. his head cocks ever so slightly, the way it does sometimes when he’s studying, or more specifically, when he’s analyzing.

he wasn’t dressed for this kind of weather. ━ clothing warm but not warm enough even with his collar standing proud and hands tucked away only for so long, but not long enough out beneath the sky, anyway. he’d have something like 20 minutes at best at a time, hail no doubt making traversal trickier with boots not quite ready for ice. transport would be slowed too, and perhaps soon to come to a halt entirely as mechanisms freeze up. ( what time was it again? eyes flick to his watch : 6:47pm. ━ he shouldn’t have stayed this long. what was initially intended to be a brief stop before heading out again had turned into conversation, had turned into discussion, had turned into hours longer than intended. Fuck him, he should’ve left before sundown. he knew better, knew his timings, what to expect, and yet… and yet… )

he’d have maybe 40 minutes to an hour to get out there before it got unmanageable, and the city untraversable with it. ━ you’re already late, Goro, you need to go now. look him in the eye and stop beating around the goddamn bush, why don’t you?

Akechi looks back, back straight and chin ever so slightly forward and eyes steady on Akira; the way rifle sights are on game; the way he looks when he’s already made up his mind. His gloved hand never leaves its resting place ‘pon the handle. 

“ It’s just a little snow, Akira. “ he starts his case, smiling, fully intending to turn this either into an easy victory or a war, depending on how stubborn Akira feels tonight ( or how much he pisses them off ) “ I have somewhere to be tomorrow, it’s not like I can just stay the night, and even if I did and could get there in time, it’d be an interesting kind of headache to excuse myself walking out of a cafe before it’s even opened with one other known tenant, wouldn’t it? Especially when that tenant has a known crimical record. “ yowch, Akechi, talk about a low blow. you might as well have just said being seen with you would be a bad look for my image. ━ He feels bad for all of a second before continuing, “ Not to mention there’s no telling the roads will be cleared up or the subway in usual order by the time that happened, regardless. “

“ Really, It’s only going to get worse. If I don’t leave now, I’ll just be making it more difficult for myself later. Plus, unless I’m wrong, you only have one bed up there. “ Akechi raises an eyebrow, which makes it feel only slightly more incriminating than it is, by sheer virtue of Akechi being the one to point it out. He waits, then, for either reluctant defeat or a court battle. ━ their choice, really.

" Oh, you guyses just findin' out? "

klaaslight klaaskeep klaasboss

This is Robin :)

" Would you look at that, I didn't realize we had such an artiste here. You really captured my likeness, better than the CCTV cameras could ever home to dream. "