Obon Festival
Who: Kuronue and Shiori
Where: RakuenTaisha (The name of the shrine where Kuronue lives and works.)
When: First day of the festival. (July 13 th-15th)
Summary: For Obon Shiori visits a small, quaint temple to honor the memory of her first husband. There she meets the mysterious caretaker of the grounds, Katsu. The situation deteriorates after that…
The temple lay quiet, all but deserted as it sat adjacent a resplendent, verdant bamboo forest. The air was a mix of muggy heat and suffocatingly still air in premonition of a large thunderstorm to arrive later that evening. Most likely it would be a loud and violent one as well, from the looks of the imposing thunderheads on the horizon. But for now, Kuronue was enjoying his surroundings despite the heat and sticky feeling coating his skin.
“This is paradise.” He sighed in content, shifting a little to the right to lean on a pillar as he sat on the walkway in the shade of the main building. Resting before he had to go and finish further preparations for the human festival of Obon. His form was clad in a dark navy blue yukata, with hints of silver embroidered fish darting in and out of white pools, the fabric a little rumpled from his having worked on more of the temple's chores earlier that morning.
The owner of the building had given him the yukata as a gift for the Obon Festival, stating rather imperiously that the shrine had to look ”Grand” and so the caretaker of the old place had to look at least suitable to that splendor as well. It didn’t matter to him what he looked like, he accepted the gift without a word and wore it along with the waraji so the man wouldn’t make a fuss. Now he realized he’d have to thank the guy later, the light summer clothing made it easier and more comfortable to work in than his more practical shirts and slacks; even if the design was a little flashier than he was used to. And it would make it easier for him to move around later, when he scouted out the area and other temples holding the main entertainment of the festivities.
Obon; Apparently special days where the humans visited temples to honor the dead, guide them home for those three days then guide them to return back from whence they came by way of lantern light.
“Honor and Guide, hmn?” He mused disinterestedly, the cynical look he had hidden under closed lids; he really could not understand the tradition of a holiday where families got together to honor ancestors. He had no family since his birth but he could sympathize well with the feeling of content a dead person might feel in being remembered. He only wished his one and only adopted kin remembered their bond and returned to him someday. If not, he would take measures to return him. Forcibly if necessary…
Where: RakuenTaisha (The name of the shrine where Kuronue lives and works.)
When: First day of the festival. (July 13 th-15th)
Summary: For Obon Shiori visits a small, quaint temple to honor the memory of her first husband. There she meets the mysterious caretaker of the grounds, Katsu. The situation deteriorates after that…
The temple lay quiet, all but deserted as it sat adjacent a resplendent, verdant bamboo forest. The air was a mix of muggy heat and suffocatingly still air in premonition of a large thunderstorm to arrive later that evening. Most likely it would be a loud and violent one as well, from the looks of the imposing thunderheads on the horizon. But for now, Kuronue was enjoying his surroundings despite the heat and sticky feeling coating his skin.
“This is paradise.” He sighed in content, shifting a little to the right to lean on a pillar as he sat on the walkway in the shade of the main building. Resting before he had to go and finish further preparations for the human festival of Obon. His form was clad in a dark navy blue yukata, with hints of silver embroidered fish darting in and out of white pools, the fabric a little rumpled from his having worked on more of the temple's chores earlier that morning.
The owner of the building had given him the yukata as a gift for the Obon Festival, stating rather imperiously that the shrine had to look ”Grand” and so the caretaker of the old place had to look at least suitable to that splendor as well. It didn’t matter to him what he looked like, he accepted the gift without a word and wore it along with the waraji so the man wouldn’t make a fuss. Now he realized he’d have to thank the guy later, the light summer clothing made it easier and more comfortable to work in than his more practical shirts and slacks; even if the design was a little flashier than he was used to. And it would make it easier for him to move around later, when he scouted out the area and other temples holding the main entertainment of the festivities.
Obon; Apparently special days where the humans visited temples to honor the dead, guide them home for those three days then guide them to return back from whence they came by way of lantern light.
“Honor and Guide, hmn?” He mused disinterestedly, the cynical look he had hidden under closed lids; he really could not understand the tradition of a holiday where families got together to honor ancestors. He had no family since his birth but he could sympathize well with the feeling of content a dead person might feel in being remembered. He only wished his one and only adopted kin remembered their bond and returned to him someday. If not, he would take measures to return him. Forcibly if necessary…