Taiki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notagiraffe) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
towerofanimus2012-05-14 09:38 pm
notagiraffe) wrote in towerofanimus2012-05-14 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
Backdated to the night of the 12th/ morning of the13th
Characters: Taiki and open
Setting: Floor thirty five, lakeside
Format: Starting in prose, will switch if you want
Summary: After a particularly bad nightmare Taiki breaks out the water colours from his trunk and begins to paint.
Warnings: Nightmares, description of killing/death, sad Kirin
Taiki plunged a knife into a young boy's throat, there couldn't be that many people left in Tai. Tears streamed down his face as he moved to the next person. He didn't want to, he screamed and cried but his feet moved by themselves, his hand moved the knife without his permission, with him screaming at himself to stop.
The next citizen went down, and the next. Wide eyed children, angry women shielding babies all fell by his hand. Blood, blood was everywhere, the smell of it choaked him and yet unconciousness wouldn't come.
People fell around him until finally he stood in front of Gyousou. "Nononononononononono." Whatever force that making him move, making him kill had him walk up to Gyousou. It didn't care that he was the King.
His knife plunged into his King's heart blood mingling with tears. Taiki woke with a scream.
He called Sanshi but she didn't come, he couldn't feel her at all. Jumping out of bed he tried to change into beast form but he remained human. As if he were not a Kirin at all.
He told himself it was those that had brought them here, that they had stolen his powers and given him the dream. But it had felt so real, like he had been there. He still thought he could smell the blood.
But it was the tower, there was always blood. He went to his trunk and pulled out Gyousou's cloak, wrapping himself tightly in it. Reaching further into his trunk he pulled out the paints. He had never used them, he had always liked painting at school but never had done it before.
He wanted to now though, he ran from the room and made his way down the tower. He stopped at the lakeside. It was outside the tower even if he wasn't truly free of it. Sitting at the edge of the lake tears still streaming down his face Taiki began to paint. His first efforts were clumsy and childish but he kept at it for hours. The same image, he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted to remember. A silver haired man. So many nightmares about killing him, about failing him. About failing Tai, about Gyousou being dead.
It couldn't be true, none of it could be true. He painted like it could make things right.
Setting: Floor thirty five, lakeside
Format: Starting in prose, will switch if you want
Summary: After a particularly bad nightmare Taiki breaks out the water colours from his trunk and begins to paint.
Warnings: Nightmares, description of killing/death, sad Kirin
Taiki plunged a knife into a young boy's throat, there couldn't be that many people left in Tai. Tears streamed down his face as he moved to the next person. He didn't want to, he screamed and cried but his feet moved by themselves, his hand moved the knife without his permission, with him screaming at himself to stop.
The next citizen went down, and the next. Wide eyed children, angry women shielding babies all fell by his hand. Blood, blood was everywhere, the smell of it choaked him and yet unconciousness wouldn't come.
People fell around him until finally he stood in front of Gyousou. "Nononononononononono." Whatever force that making him move, making him kill had him walk up to Gyousou. It didn't care that he was the King.
His knife plunged into his King's heart blood mingling with tears. Taiki woke with a scream.
He called Sanshi but she didn't come, he couldn't feel her at all. Jumping out of bed he tried to change into beast form but he remained human. As if he were not a Kirin at all.
He told himself it was those that had brought them here, that they had stolen his powers and given him the dream. But it had felt so real, like he had been there. He still thought he could smell the blood.
But it was the tower, there was always blood. He went to his trunk and pulled out Gyousou's cloak, wrapping himself tightly in it. Reaching further into his trunk he pulled out the paints. He had never used them, he had always liked painting at school but never had done it before.
He wanted to now though, he ran from the room and made his way down the tower. He stopped at the lakeside. It was outside the tower even if he wasn't truly free of it. Sitting at the edge of the lake tears still streaming down his face Taiki began to paint. His first efforts were clumsy and childish but he kept at it for hours. The same image, he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted to remember. A silver haired man. So many nightmares about killing him, about failing him. About failing Tai, about Gyousou being dead.
It couldn't be true, none of it could be true. He painted like it could make things right.
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