000 || I Remember a World Dug from Dirt (Sight/Smell)
Crimson had been burrowing around in the Scavenger's Yard. Again. Nothing unusual for the man, even when a ducky inner tube fell on his head. No, what made this particular day so unusual was the glowing crystal that was tied to the ducky’s neck with a green bow. He recognized it as a memory crystal from all the ones that Bastet had given him to study, but this one was useable and it seemed like it was meant for him. And Crimson… Well, Crimson was never one to shy away from knowledge, especially not in a place like this. So he was soon back in his apartment, carefully seated in the middle of his bed and closing his fist around the glowing crystal.
Flying rocks and debris gave way to the sight of a black-clad Toushi dodging back and away from him, holding a large broken sword in one hand, a grin on his face, mouth moving to form words that Crimson could not hear. He didn’t know if it was important, but that was all drawn away by the sight of a sword in his hand swinging down towards the boy, gleaming in the light, missing him by inches each time, kicking up more dirt. Dirt and dust, the smell was familiar, yet not unpleasantly so and along with it was the faint undercurrent of stuffy, recycled air. It was air that one usually found in enclosed spaces, was he-- Ah, yes…
The world was no longer moving around him, it seemed like he had stopped after slashing and knocking an interesting looking half-mask off of Toushi. The scent of blood mixed in with the dust, but that wasn’t where his attention was focused. He was busy taking in the sight behind Toushi. Large boulders dotted the ground, dead trees breaking the monotony every so often while mountains of packed dirt rose up towards a blue-painted ceiling complete with white clouds… Quite an interesting place if he did say so himself. Underground too, if the ladder leading up towards a hole in the ceiling that he could see in the distance said anything about it. Perhaps a secret training cavern of sorts? That would explain why he was chasing after Toushi with a sword, after all.
A sword that had suddenly changed shape, the cane-like handle stretching into a long hilt, the last couple inches bent at an angle, a crimson tassel dangling off the end. There was no guard, but rather a decorative red string wrapped around where one usually was, a three-loop bow on one side and a folded paper decoration on the other. Above it was a small flower design on a U-shaped piece of metal that covered the first three or four inches of the straight, slim blade, the tip of which ended in a slanted razor-like edge instead of tapering off into a point like most swords he had seen around.
And it was so intimately, jarringly familiar that he didn’t even need to burn the details of it into his mind as the memory faded and the rest of his senses came back. So caught up was he in the regained memory that he didn’t notice something was wrong, at least not until he raised his hand to push his hat back from his head, only to have it come in contact with... something that most definitely did not feel like his normal headgear. A quick look in the mirror gave rise to a new question... Exactly what had they done to his beloved hat?
{OOC: Memory from Chapter 65 of Bleach.}
Flying rocks and debris gave way to the sight of a black-clad Toushi dodging back and away from him, holding a large broken sword in one hand, a grin on his face, mouth moving to form words that Crimson could not hear. He didn’t know if it was important, but that was all drawn away by the sight of a sword in his hand swinging down towards the boy, gleaming in the light, missing him by inches each time, kicking up more dirt. Dirt and dust, the smell was familiar, yet not unpleasantly so and along with it was the faint undercurrent of stuffy, recycled air. It was air that one usually found in enclosed spaces, was he-- Ah, yes…
The world was no longer moving around him, it seemed like he had stopped after slashing and knocking an interesting looking half-mask off of Toushi. The scent of blood mixed in with the dust, but that wasn’t where his attention was focused. He was busy taking in the sight behind Toushi. Large boulders dotted the ground, dead trees breaking the monotony every so often while mountains of packed dirt rose up towards a blue-painted ceiling complete with white clouds… Quite an interesting place if he did say so himself. Underground too, if the ladder leading up towards a hole in the ceiling that he could see in the distance said anything about it. Perhaps a secret training cavern of sorts? That would explain why he was chasing after Toushi with a sword, after all.
A sword that had suddenly changed shape, the cane-like handle stretching into a long hilt, the last couple inches bent at an angle, a crimson tassel dangling off the end. There was no guard, but rather a decorative red string wrapped around where one usually was, a three-loop bow on one side and a folded paper decoration on the other. Above it was a small flower design on a U-shaped piece of metal that covered the first three or four inches of the straight, slim blade, the tip of which ended in a slanted razor-like edge instead of tapering off into a point like most swords he had seen around.
And it was so intimately, jarringly familiar that he didn’t even need to burn the details of it into his mind as the memory faded and the rest of his senses came back. So caught up was he in the regained memory that he didn’t notice something was wrong, at least not until he raised his hand to push his hat back from his head, only to have it come in contact with... something that most definitely did not feel like his normal headgear. A quick look in the mirror gave rise to a new question... Exactly what had they done to his beloved hat?
{OOC: Memory from Chapter 65 of Bleach.}