Flap your Wings in Tokyo, and Rain will pour on New York, Little Butterfly [Prologue/?]
anonymous
May 25 2009, 16:05:55 UTC
prologue to show I'm working on this right now :D i hope you enjoy, OP! also, this anon here is the same that asked if she could have Kiku have some fun in Alfred's body, I hope you knew I meant with Arthur (because I am not sure I could work with USAJapan...)
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Flap your wings in Tokyo, and rain will pour on New York, Little Butterfly
The room was dark -darker than dark, with shadows looming over the walls, barely lit by some torches, old fashioned and burning with passion on the stones and the altar. And even with the torches, it still looked unworldly dark.
Some of the shadows were moving, not because of the flames, but because they were… alive, in a way, and not alive at the same time, but still were attracted together by the white lines on the ground, roughly done by the lone figure standing in front of them.
When magic opened the Doors to their realms, be it for short, pointless rituals or darker, mean ones, they were always attracted by the shimmering threads of magic.
The lines traced on the stoned floor were rough but steady, and formed a complex sort of pattern, that of a circle surrounding a detailed pentacle, with all sort of ancient ideograms representing elements and directions.
On each of the five elements present on the pentacle there was placed a small token to be the materialised expression of the power, with one candle on the top point, the one on the opposite side of the figure, a piece of bark on the left top, a cup of water on the lower left corner, a small metallic dagger on the lower right corner, and finally a fistful of soil on the last point.
In the exact centre of the pentacle, a small photo.
The air was impregnated with dense, thick air, a soft breeze flowing around in a counter clockwise motion, coming to curl at the figure’s feet, slightly shifting the cloak he was wearing. A dark, heavy chuckle left the figure’s lips as he lifted his hands upwards, words hanging in the air as he recited a long, sinuous chant in a foreign language that was no more.
The breeze suddenly mounted, and all the torches burned out, dropping the whole room into complete darkness.
“Ach… this wasn’t supposed to happen” England stated worriedly, blinking rapidly and waving one hand towards the torches.
A small Fire Elemental flared in the darkness, and the torches started burning again. England smiled gently at the creature, a complete contrast with how gloomy he had been until moments before.
“Thanks, Agni” he murmured, checking what could have gone wrong with his curse. “I don’t understand. Things like these are easily done and bring forth no problem. Actually, they’re the easiest and less dangerous, and yet… what did go wrong?”
Not knowing what to do, after some more minutes checking the ritual, England shrugged and left the room, figuring that since there had not been any reaction apparent other than the torches, the ritual had been nullified.
He didn’t notice the small butterfly that was now on the photo in the pentacle.
Somewhere far away from England territories, on the two opposite sides of the world, two Nations sneezed in their respective beds, breeze flowing around them, flickering in the dark.
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Flap your wings in Tokyo, and rain will pour on New York, Little Butterfly
The room was dark -darker than dark, with shadows looming over the walls, barely lit by some torches, old fashioned and burning with passion on the stones and the altar. And even with the torches, it still looked unworldly dark.
Some of the shadows were moving, not because of the flames, but because they were… alive, in a way, and not alive at the same time, but still were attracted together by the white lines on the ground, roughly done by the lone figure standing in front of them.
When magic opened the Doors to their realms, be it for short, pointless rituals or darker, mean ones, they were always attracted by the shimmering threads of magic.
The lines traced on the stoned floor were rough but steady, and formed a complex sort of pattern, that of a circle surrounding a detailed pentacle, with all sort of ancient ideograms representing elements and directions.
On each of the five elements present on the pentacle there was placed a small token to be the materialised expression of the power, with one candle on the top point, the one on the opposite side of the figure, a piece of bark on the left top, a cup of water on the lower left corner, a small metallic dagger on the lower right corner, and finally a fistful of soil on the last point.
In the exact centre of the pentacle, a small photo.
The air was impregnated with dense, thick air, a soft breeze flowing around in a counter clockwise motion, coming to curl at the figure’s feet, slightly shifting the cloak he was wearing. A dark, heavy chuckle left the figure’s lips as he lifted his hands upwards, words hanging in the air as he recited a long, sinuous chant in a foreign language that was no more.
The breeze suddenly mounted, and all the torches burned out, dropping the whole room into complete darkness.
“Ach… this wasn’t supposed to happen” England stated worriedly, blinking rapidly and waving one hand towards the torches.
A small Fire Elemental flared in the darkness, and the torches started burning again. England smiled gently at the creature, a complete contrast with how gloomy he had been until moments before.
“Thanks, Agni” he murmured, checking what could have gone wrong with his curse. “I don’t understand. Things like these are easily done and bring forth no problem. Actually, they’re the easiest and less dangerous, and yet… what did go wrong?”
Not knowing what to do, after some more minutes checking the ritual, England shrugged and left the room, figuring that since there had not been any reaction apparent other than the torches, the ritual had been nullified.
He didn’t notice the small butterfly that was now on the photo in the pentacle.
Somewhere far away from England territories, on the two opposite sides of the world, two Nations sneezed in their respective beds, breeze flowing around them, flickering in the dark.
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