[OPEN-Intro]"My dream is for you/My arms were made to hold you tight"
Characters: Muraki Kazutaka and *You*
When: 12/20
Where: Somewhere in the southwestern part of the city
Rating: PG-13 (some mentions of poisoning, murder and mildly suggestive content)
Summary: The night of his apparent death on board the Queen Camellia, Muraki expects to be unconscious for a few days. Fate, however has other ideas...
"I do hope you believe me when I die myself..."
Muraki had to act quickly: his ability to manipulate energy could keep the poison at bay for only so long. He had to make his condition seem a part of the string of murders he had planned, the better to cover his tracks and also to utilize Eileen's anger: let her be the catspaw and deflect all suspicion from him as he cut his last ties with Kakyouin: people who couldn't silence their consciences were a liablity.
Once he had pulled the bedcovers over his knees, he set to work, with trembling fingers, pulling some of the petals from the roses that Tsuzuki had refused to accept from him earlier that evening. A shame, refusing a love-token like that, and the roses went well so with the shinigami's complexion. He strewed the petals over the bedcovers, as well as a few cards from the deck he'd used for their wager, the one he had lost to that kid. With a sigh, he lay back on the pillows, taking the roses into his arms and tucking into their stems the sealed note with its tarot card token on the mattress beside him. Thorns on the stems poked through the silk of his white silk bedjacket and his quilted white silk pyjamas beneath it -- if only the pricks came from the sharp side of Tsuzuki's tongue as he lay with the violet-eyed beauty in his arms.
With that image in his mind and tasting blood on his own tongue, he let the poison engulf his senses, sliding into a dreamless sleep...
Cold and dampness nudged him awake, despite a fog from the after-effects of the poison clouding his senses. He shivered, shaking his head and forcing his eyes to open as he looked about him. Instead of the linen sheets and wool blankets of his bed, he was lying on snow, in the midst of what appeared to be a plaza of some kind, a hodge-podge of buildings surrounding him: a false-fronted building from the American West, an English stone cottage and a Zulu hut clustered about the small square. Snowflakes fell over him, clinging to his face and hands. He sat up, then stood, shivering and brushing the snow from his skin with numb fingers. "Brrrr... Who slipped me a hallucinogenic?" he murmured, rubbing one sock-clad foot and then the other against the backs of his calves. "Or is this something real?"
This was going to take some explaining...
((OOC: Title ganked from "The Kraken" by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. So, have a cold, disoriented Muraki, stuck outside in a snowfall -- because I like throwing him in at the deep end of the RP pool. I might be a bit slow replying to tags due to work craziness, but I will do me best.))
When: 12/20
Where: Somewhere in the southwestern part of the city
Rating: PG-13 (some mentions of poisoning, murder and mildly suggestive content)
Summary: The night of his apparent death on board the Queen Camellia, Muraki expects to be unconscious for a few days. Fate, however has other ideas...
"I do hope you believe me when I die myself..."
Muraki had to act quickly: his ability to manipulate energy could keep the poison at bay for only so long. He had to make his condition seem a part of the string of murders he had planned, the better to cover his tracks and also to utilize Eileen's anger: let her be the catspaw and deflect all suspicion from him as he cut his last ties with Kakyouin: people who couldn't silence their consciences were a liablity.
Once he had pulled the bedcovers over his knees, he set to work, with trembling fingers, pulling some of the petals from the roses that Tsuzuki had refused to accept from him earlier that evening. A shame, refusing a love-token like that, and the roses went well so with the shinigami's complexion. He strewed the petals over the bedcovers, as well as a few cards from the deck he'd used for their wager, the one he had lost to that kid. With a sigh, he lay back on the pillows, taking the roses into his arms and tucking into their stems the sealed note with its tarot card token on the mattress beside him. Thorns on the stems poked through the silk of his white silk bedjacket and his quilted white silk pyjamas beneath it -- if only the pricks came from the sharp side of Tsuzuki's tongue as he lay with the violet-eyed beauty in his arms.
With that image in his mind and tasting blood on his own tongue, he let the poison engulf his senses, sliding into a dreamless sleep...
Cold and dampness nudged him awake, despite a fog from the after-effects of the poison clouding his senses. He shivered, shaking his head and forcing his eyes to open as he looked about him. Instead of the linen sheets and wool blankets of his bed, he was lying on snow, in the midst of what appeared to be a plaza of some kind, a hodge-podge of buildings surrounding him: a false-fronted building from the American West, an English stone cottage and a Zulu hut clustered about the small square. Snowflakes fell over him, clinging to his face and hands. He sat up, then stood, shivering and brushing the snow from his skin with numb fingers. "Brrrr... Who slipped me a hallucinogenic?" he murmured, rubbing one sock-clad foot and then the other against the backs of his calves. "Or is this something real?"
This was going to take some explaining...
((OOC: Title ganked from "The Kraken" by the Squirrel Nut Zippers. So, have a cold, disoriented Muraki, stuck outside in a snowfall -- because I like throwing him in at the deep end of the RP pool. I might be a bit slow replying to tags due to work craziness, but I will do me best.))