A Mukuro backstory. What if he wasn't an Old Soul? What if the Old Soul found him?
He's travelled across decades, treaded on the delicate, duckling faces of humans. He's swallowed their stories, hook and sinker. They fascinate him; the tiny ones with tiny fists, and the dying ones, quiet, convulsing, swimming upstream towards the light.
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He's visited them, studied the unlikely way their skin folds around their bones. )
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It goes without saying that this is my favourite of your works so far. I think it captures well the strange place in existence that is Mukuro .
I liked the premise of your story: I've not seen that angle explored anywhere else before, so this was a fascinating read:
He's travelled across decades, treaded on the delicate, duckling faces of humans. He's swallowed their stories, hook and sinker. They fascinate him; the tiny ones with tiny fists, and the dying ones, quiet, convulsing, swimming upstream towards the light.
Two more favourites, because I like the way you put these words together and what you build with them:
( God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. And Man loved himself more than he loved the birds. So you ( ... )
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There is something about your style, I think, that is naturally at home with Mukuro and his world of shadows and illusions. This comment makes me ridiculously happy.
Writing Kokuyo is actually my way of getting closer to Mukuro's headspace. I tend to favour outsider/observer POVs, and I'm working up to another fic from Chikusa's that will hopefully reveal something (at least to me).
...As for longer stories, it's always been a goal of mine, but the truth is I'm lazy and haven't even hit the 1k barrier yet. XD I'm sort of a one-trick-pony with the whole gloomy introspective thing. I worry that the more I write, the more I'll lose impact.
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