flower devastation

Fugere Liberum vel Vade Domum [Open]

Fri, 20 Apr 2012 00:43:27 -0400

Albert Penniworth… the strange man that had invited him here. A man of mystery and suspense. Presumably he was an elderly man; at least, that was the impression Oswald had received from the letter he’d been sent. There was something about the name that implied a man in his golden days. Then again, with the name Oswald Cobblepot the young man had no right to judge. It was as if he’d been born old. Probably some bitterness from father there, bless the bastard.

People couldn’t be blamed for mistaking Oswald for someone older. His appearance, his manner of speech and bearing… the only thing that really betrayed his youth was his voice, which had barely deepened from his youth. It made him sound like a child much younger, rather than someone several months from seventeen. Nevertheless, a case of mistaken identity was bound to occur…

Hearing a voice behind her, the young man turned to see a cheerful girl. She couldn’t have been much more than his age… probably a little younger. Nice-looking, too, in that… common people way. But definitely a more attractive sight than the society ladies who liked to attend mother’s soirees. Huh. He actually hadn’t spoken to many girls his age, mostly because Blackgate Academy had been an all-boy’s sc-

“Mr. Penniworth? Oh no, I believe you have the wrong person, miss.” It was only polite to tell her. Not to mention that to be mistaken for a family of SERVING PEOPLE was an extremely vulgar idea to the portly boy. But then…

Face turning a deep scarlet, Oswald shook his head while profusely refusing her offer, stammering as he did so. “Children? Oh HEAVENS no! No no no no no goodness no, I’m only sixteen and I’m not Mr. Penniworth! B-Besides, you can’t be v-very different from my age, miss… whoever y-you might be! Not an age to be thinking about… about about children!” Wiping the sweat now streaming from his brow with a handkerchief taken from his pocket, the young man lowered his eyes to his feet. “A-and as I stated earlier I’m not Mr. Penniworth. M-My name is Oswald. Oswald… Oswald Cobblepot, although I could t-try to take you to… ah, to Mr. Penniworth.”

“You aren’t.. Mr. Penniworth?”

A lengthy silence followed. Seconds turned to minutes, and Mukae still did something close to nothing in response (though her smile had noticeably fallen). Rather, she wasn’t sure how to respond— or whether or not she should respond. While she didn’t hold any contempt for Oswald – could she really detest him? He hadn’t done anything wrong, and he was only being honest about the fact he wasn’t the man she’d hoped him to be – she couldn’t say the same about her disappointment.

After a considerable delay, she blinked. Once, twice, three times. Any ordinary person would’ve taken this time to make hurried apologies and go along their way to avoid any further embarrassment, but Mukae hadn’t moved an inch – save for her breathing and the occasional blink. Her expression remained vacant for quite some time, but she made a little noise to signal that she’d managed to process her mistake.

Luckily for her, though, he seemed to have sweeped the matter under the rug and instead appease her desire to even catch sight of Albert Penniworth. She was definitely a woman with drive, if anything.

“Ah— but you’ll take me to see Mr. Penniworth—?!” An unnecessary amount of enthusiasm filled her tone, and that sickly smile returned.

Excitement boiled in her very blood, and the corners of her lips gradually began to curl up into a grin. She grew flushed – not out of embarrassment, but the pure admiration that she held for this elusive man (whether or not he existed) brought these reactions about at even the mere mention of his name. Incessant giggles poured past her lips, and amidst her glee, she took the chance to take hold of his hands and hold them to her chest.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Cobblepot!” The foreign name didn’t slip very well off her tongue (the only reason why Penniworth did was more than likely because she’d rehearsed the pronunciation a little too much). That hadn’t hindered her good mood in the slightest, though. “I’m glad, I’m really really really really glad—!”

Albeit happy, there was still something wrong. Mukae was oblivious, but intuition would tell anyone that something was off. Her hands were still on his, and, regardless of the fact it was a harmless gesture that displayed her appreciation for Oswald’s offer of assistance, he’d come to learn why everyone at home kept a healthy distance.

The stench of rotting flesh permeated the air, and it grew stronger and stronger as she kept his hands in hers.

Fugere Liberum vel Vade Domum [Open]

Wed, 11 Apr 2012 03:43:54 -0400

avianaristocrat:

It wasn’t his fault. It was self-defense. Those imbeciles had taunted him, despite the wide berth he’d given them. Taunted him, pushed him… until the world had blacked out and he’d awoken to five idiots in the hospital and several missing eagles from the new Bird of Prey exhibition at Gotham City Zoo. It was pitiful, really. Animals weren’t meant to be caged, anyways. And so what if his affinity with them was greater than that of others? And so what if it had brought those ruffian harm? They should have been THANKING him for getting rid of bullies and idiots sullying the good name of Gotham. But no, they had called him a menace. He would have been kicked out of town if it hadn’t been for the letter.

Mother had said the Penniworths had once served the Cobblepots. But those days were long gone. And besides, it was probably a distant branch. No Penniworth would be stupid enough to tangle with the Cobblepots again… probably. Nevertheless, it had been a deus ex machina. A term he’d learned from his Latin tutor. A fortuitous event which would change the tide of his life.

And so it was that he now found himself exiting a train platform in this place called Cote Celeste, with nothing in hand but a single suitcase filled with sweater vests, khaki shorts, and various garments of all kinds. Mother had insisted he didn’t bring any more; after all, there probably wouldn’t be porters in this place. But this was a brand new start. A place to learn how to control this suddenly manifested power. And perhaps… make friends?

Possibly, possibly.

Taking his first few tentative steps from the station, the portly young man squinted in the sunlight, wondering if someone would be there to greet him.

Unlike how most others would find it appropriate, Mukae brought no luggage at all. The only thing she had on her were the clothes on her back and - strangely enough - two blades in her hand, though they were both held at the blade rather than the handle. Of course, the edges were sharp and still fulfilled their purpose as knives— so they cut into her skin and elicited her dark blood. She seemed to remain insensitive to the fact, though. The pain that should’ve been there hadn’t phased her once. The scarring on her hands would surely be indelible, but the consequences weren’t something that bothered her.

Nothing really did bother her too much— or, rather, nothing would stay on her mind long enough to do so. She was much too focused on that letter; that, and meeting the elusive ‘Albert Penniworth’ that had so wonderfully offered his hand to her and saved her from the life of despair that she once had. She’d do anything to meet her beloved savior - even kill if push ever came to shove.

Apparently, if what she had assumed was true as she left her train and stepped onto the platform, she wouldn’t have to wait too much longer to meet him. Little would she have known that she was about to mistake her precious Mr. Penniworth for a meaningless young man in comparison.

With a sparkle of hope only barely shining through her twisted gaze, she meant for nothing more than to show the undying excitement and exhilaration that flowed through her veins. She smiled, and finally spoke.

“Mr. Penniworth? You’re Mr. Penniworth, right—?”

A name like ‘Albert Penniworth’ gave her the impression that the man addressed was, at the very youngest, scraping into his early seventies— regardless of how unappealing that may have been for some, her blind love and admiration wouldn’t be stopped by age alone. Age was just a number, right? But she definitely hadn’t expected someone so young to await her arrival at the station.

Not once had it occurred to her that it would be impractical for this man to abandon his duties for her sake. Many factors proved that the boy before her was not infact her beloved Albert Penniworth that she had come to adore for his generous offer, but she didn’t take any of them into account. If she so wished to believe that whoever was before her was the one that she spontaneously came to love, then so be it.

“Mr. Penniworth, Mr. Penniworth— oh, Mr. Penniworth! How many children would you like—?”

okay, so, um, now that business is in order, let’s get to work! i have a reply drafted...

Tue, 10 Apr 2012 08:12:52 -0400

okay, so, um, now that business is in order, let’s get to work!

i have a reply drafted for:

nozomu
crow
~~soon to be dead friend~~ ozzy too!

and i also have an open drafted! if you have a post you’d like me to reply to, feel free to reply to this post or send me a link to it whenever you like! for now, i must be off!

application - emukae mukae

Tue, 10 Apr 2012 00:34:00 -0400

- OOC Tumblr: furoido

- Character name: EMUKAE, Mukae (江迎怒江)

- Series: Medaka Box

- Personality: Hiding true intentions with a crooked smile, Mukae is a tumultuous swirl of emotions just waiting to explode. Her easily swayed heart is one of her major flaws - do even the slightest thing in her favor and you’re more than likely to have instantly charmed her. Her unstable mentality is a result of her craze for close contact with others. With a horrible past only further ruining her on the inside, one must take extreme caution when approaching her.

- AU Backstory: As a child, Mukae was one of the many who made a visit to the Abnormal hospital to be diagnosed. Her destructive capabilities were something she hadn’t yet fully grasped— as she explained to the doctor during her consultation, “everything [she] touched rotted” and “all [her] pets died”. Her eyes had seen nothing but death; rotten flesh, corroding bodies - macabre sights not reserved for children, at the very least.

She gradually came to embrace the fact that nothing - living or dead - would withstand her touch. Mukae would never be able to feel the warmth of another’s fingers intertwining with her own, and she’d never be able to open a door without ruining the door knob. It was a thought that crushed her heart, but one that she would accept nonetheless. That didn’t change her burning desire to touch something - anything - without it disappearing.

Her unreasonable longing for physical contact was something that brought trouble for those she loved. Be it an accidental brush or a tight, unrelenting grasp on their arm— their flesh would rot, and the stench of death filled the air within a matter of minutes. The first few instances brought seemingly endless sorrow and numerous fits and tantrums, but she gradually grew insensitive. Her incessant want would never die down, regardless of how many lives she’d ended.

She just needed more, and more.

The day she’d received that special letter had almost stopped her heart. She burst into tears— though, these were tears of blatant joy. After living days on end where she would lose those which she held dear, she’d finally found her saving grace. The compulsion to meet her savior made her blood boil with excitement; thus driving her to leave her old, crumbling life in order to start anew.

To start anew at Côte Céleste.

- Abilities:

Raff-Rafflesia is her ability to rot and corrode anything she comes into contact with, be it living or dead, organic or inorganic. Though it only works through touch, it is a devastating ability and can be incredibly destructive. While she lacks control over this power, she can change the intensity and its area of effect whilst using it. Because it, quite literally, rots objects regardless of its traits, it brings along a horrible stench.
Raff-Rafflesia: Twisted Version is somewhat of a ‘mutated’ form of her ability, in the sense that it still rots objects but it affects her surroundings differently. She can channel her Raff-Rafflesia into the ground, rotting the earth and creating humus to cause plants to grow at rapid and uncontrollable rates.

- RP Sample: At first, the way her face contorted didn’t seem quite human. It displayed an emotion she hadn’t quite identified herself. Was this an elaborate joke to taunt her after all she had done? Surely, the human population had things that were much better and more productive to do. Regardless, Mukae didn’t once doubt the words on the sheet of paper.

The words in the letter promised life— a proper life. Such a foreign concept was almost impossible to imagine. Skepticism made her momentarily believe otherwise in regards to the credibility of the letter’s contents, but she was convinced that the limitless amount of joy that flooded her veins was as real as the letter she had only just finished reading (for the nth time within the past five minutes). She wanted to scream and cry to the world about what wonderful luck she’d been blessed with, but could only muster quiet little sobs in her bout of excitement.

It was all much too like a dream, or maybe a scene from a movie. Her blind faith in someone who may not even exist was foolish, but she believed that idiotic behavior on her behalf would be permitted— especially after tolerating the events in her life thus far. The man whom was listed at the end of the letter had suddenly sparked a renewed hope within Mukae. A dangerous, blazing hope, that of which would drive her to continue to fulfil her empty life. Maybe someone would finally offer their hand to her.

Côte Céleste, prepare yourself— you’re about to meet one of the worst people yet.