![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
[closed] tanabata blues
⌛ Who: Kaito Nagano and The Real Folk Blues (Setsura Yamaguchi too I guess)
⌛ What: Actually Tanabata
⌛ When: July 7th
⌛ Where: Shibuya, Tokyo
⌛ Warnings:Who knows! It'll probably get spicy or stupid or both Naked people doing the horizontal tango and also maybe a lil teeny tiny bit of body horror 🙂
[ Standing atop one of Shibuya's taller buildings is one (1) Kaito Nagano. It's just a guess, but he's approximated that this is roughly where his apartment complex would stand if he were back home. On the ledge in front of him stands a tall potted bamboo plant. In his hand he has a turquoise-colored paper tag. Some kanji have been brushed onto one side—the empath's wish.
As he reaches forward to hang the paper slip on one of the bamboo's branches, a flood of thoughts clamor in his mind. He's barely been in Nippon for a week, maybe two, yet it feels like an eternity since he last pet his cat, or phoned home, or helped his brother with his homework. The food here is so similar to what he has at home, but the taste becomes bland within bites.
He hasn't eaten since returning from Kyushu.
There's too much familiarity. He feels like he's back in Japan, yet there are no signs of what make Japan home anywhere to be found.
How long will it take to adapt?
Will he adapt?
Kaito finishes adjusting his wish on the bamboo tree before slipping an orange Zippo lighter out of a pocket. With a few flicks, he's ignited a flickering flame—and the paper is set alight. He makes sure to douse the growing blaze before it touches the bamboo's flesh. ]
⌛ What: Actually Tanabata
⌛ When: July 7th
⌛ Where: Shibuya, Tokyo
⌛ Warnings:
[ Standing atop one of Shibuya's taller buildings is one (1) Kaito Nagano. It's just a guess, but he's approximated that this is roughly where his apartment complex would stand if he were back home. On the ledge in front of him stands a tall potted bamboo plant. In his hand he has a turquoise-colored paper tag. Some kanji have been brushed onto one side—the empath's wish.
As he reaches forward to hang the paper slip on one of the bamboo's branches, a flood of thoughts clamor in his mind. He's barely been in Nippon for a week, maybe two, yet it feels like an eternity since he last pet his cat, or phoned home, or helped his brother with his homework. The food here is so similar to what he has at home, but the taste becomes bland within bites.
He hasn't eaten since returning from Kyushu.
There's too much familiarity. He feels like he's back in Japan, yet there are no signs of what make Japan home anywhere to be found.
How long will it take to adapt?
Will he adapt?
Kaito finishes adjusting his wish on the bamboo tree before slipping an orange Zippo lighter out of a pocket. With a few flicks, he's ignited a flickering flame—and the paper is set alight. He makes sure to douse the growing blaze before it touches the bamboo's flesh. ]
2/2
no subject
[ Snickering, Kaito reaches the fourth floor and rounds a corner before slowing down to a meandering pace. He proceeds to shuffle his way down to the very end of the hall before turning right and slipping a key into the doorknob.
What awaits within is an extremely... normal 1920s Japanese apartment. But tiny. Like the other eastern refugee apartments, it's kitted out with all of the typical 'modern' amenities, including heating and cooling. The door opens directly into the living room and a small space for slipping out of shoes, which Kaito does.
Everything's tidy and... well, almost sterile. The apartment doesn't look very lived-in. ]
I don't know about you, but I'd like to cool off and wash up. You can make yourself at home or I can set you up with a nice birdbath.
no subject
She takes in the apartment curiously, keenly, quietly critically. He isn't wrong. She does tend to prefer have more information than less and she's a watchful thing, skilled in collecting it. She doesn't snap her head to him immediately when he drops the word "birdbath," but she does turn her gaze from the apartment to him within a brief moment. ]
The sun has been harsh today. A bath sounds nice.
[ To say the least. The tiny, glittering sparkles appearing around her like something out of an anime suggests much more than that. ]
no subject
[ Without any fanfare, Kaito places his bag down on the floor and proceeds to start stripping. His scarf is casually tossed onto a hat rack, and he waits for Setsura to flutter off his shoulder before placing his jacket on a chair back—where it lands rather heavily. He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt underneath, and that's peeled off before being folded neatly onto the chair.
Black Sparkle is treated to a rather jarring juxtaposition. Above the neck, Kaito doesn't have a single scar marking his features. Clearly it's because all of them exist below. Long and short, deep and shallow, scars of all types litter the empath's back, front, arms...
He cocks a glance over his shoulder and gestures to an open doorway before hooking onto the waistband of his pants. ]
Bath might be a stretch, by the way. I've got a shower, a stool, and a bucket in there. No western tub. I can wash you if you need a hand.
[ Yoink! Kaito unceremoniously pulls his bottoms off in one (perhaps practiced) motion and folds the garments into a square before tossing them onto the chair. Plop.
Just like upstairs, many scars are carved into his legs. ...And he's a little caked. It's not bad.
Into the
shower roombathroom he vanishes! Sure enough, it's a tiny nook in the apartment, off-white tiles and ceramic formed into a shower stall. A sturdy wooden stool and a small hand bucket are included for what was probably quoted by the apartment manager as 'comfort'. ]1/?
She should have known. Refugee housing is barely more than basic when and where it is and "of good quality" is not something anyone would ever claim of it regardless of a unit's size. Still, the word "bath" inspires certain expectations, expectations that have been unceremoniously dashed and those glittering sparkles with them. She's more than a little partial to baths and there isn't a proper tub; that doesn't detract certain other observations and finely stirred interest, curiosity.
Nudity has never been something that's phased her. The additional long sleeved shirt saw her pause and those scars -- well, she'd canted her head at them. She still is, wondering after them, him. She's always loved scars. Cake, too, but scars are a different sort of story of the flesh with some sort of varied story in accompaniment. ]
2/?
She thinks twice about that. It's no less a proper consideration than the former after being treated to such a sight; though, that begs another question. A few, actually, and she can't very well get the answers to them from her present perch. She can't get clean from there either, so she hops into the air without a lick of ceremony and flits into the bathroom after him.
She lands on the floor and turns an eye about in observation, thinking. She hadn't missed what he'd said, after all. Her hearing is much too keen, her mind too quick. ]
3/3
[ That isn't a "no, thank you," not at all, and she isn't at all concerned about being tossed about by the shower itself despite her present form. She wonders if he is, though. She's wondering quite a few things about him, actually. ]
no subject
Once inside, he casually flicks a (still-gloved) hand forward. A tendril of water whips out from the gesture, latching onto the bucket's handle before rubberbanding back to him. He catches it and moves to start the shower when a wisp of black flickers into his peripheral. ]
You saw earlier. I'm a hydrokinetic. I don't need to call on this world's magic to do stuff with water. That, and I can turn this into a mini-tub for you. [ The bucket's quite spacious for a sparrow. ]
Also...
2/2 but i didn't mark 1 and i'm too lazy to
What are you staring at? It's not a worm. No pecking.
no subject
1/2
no subject
[ Her voice and aura are a dead giveaway that, were she human-shaped, she'd be leering like a pervert at his Naganoodle right now...
How come this amuses him more than it annoys him?
Stepping around her, Kaito turns the shower knob and cold water immediately pours out and onto the floor. Despite most expectations given the fact that he lives in a hole in the wall, it's quite quick to heat up. The empath puts his hand under the spout and hums.
Flecks of turquoise begin to speckle sharp golds, and the water level begins to gradually rise despite the drain being unobstructed. Rather than flow out all the way to the end of the bathroom, it instead begins to rise as if some invisible force is keeping it compacted into a general rectangular block-like shape.
Within a few minutes, there's enough water for the empath to simply walk through and rest his back against the wall before sliding down into a... """""bath."""""
The water's at around male-presenting nipple level and stops rising after a certain point, despite the shower still being on. Must be the drain. Eyes completely overtaken by that enchanted shade, Kaito looks sidelong towards Setsura. He's opted to just let the bucket float in front of him. ]
On second thought, I figured using my power like this for a little while won't kill me. The water's hot. Hop on in.
no subject
To say that she's pleased might be something of an understatement. She'd wanted a bath and now there's a bath. What's not to be pleased about? Her entry provided immediate full coverage of her feathered body by the water, even, and she isn't at all concerned about how she'll manage to get dry.
She does want a good look at his eyes, though. In a minute, after she's properly basked in the heat of the water. ]
Do you do this often? There are public bath houses, you know.
[ But this? This is nice and it's perfectly apparent in her voice. She's relaxing. ]
no subject
Kaito cracks a smirk, shifting gloved hands beneath her floating form before lifting them on either side. What strange leather—the material seems to be waterproof...
Well, she'll feel for herself once he closes in, carefully stroking down her wings with his thumbs. ]
I can appreciate a public bath house, but the less I'm surrounded by people, the better. Less noise. If I'm going to be spending a lot of time in this apartment, I'm eventually going to learn earth magic and make a physical wall so I don't have to hold the structure of this 'bath' on my own.
1/?
With them, it's -- ]
2/?
His thumbs at her back feel more than a little nice and it's in this moment Setsura realizes her error. She should have mentioned it, that he should avoid any sort of repeating stroking or petting-like motion down her back, under her wings, her chest -- there's a few areas, actually, and it's fortunate he didn't attempt anything full body.
She isn't simply a simple, regular bird. Her mind is certainly not that of a simple, regular bird, but her body is distinctly avian at the moment and those motions in those places -- she begins to puff up before she realizes it and it's likely a comical sight given that she's soaked to the bone.
No, her mind is not that of a simple, regular bird, but she is a bird. She's a bird acutely aware of and affected by the time of year on the physical level and her tiny body shudders at the flood of hormones triggered by that pleasurable contact. ]
3/3
H-hey--!
[ -- is all she manages in this instant and it's not out of anger or fear, but surprise, realization. She needs to cut that physical contact immediately. Then, she can maybe explain. Maybe.
Her wings flutter once. They're wet. ]
no subject
[ A rush of emotion smacks Kaito in the face, and he finds himself quite familiar with the sensation: the sudden urge to Separate™ after being inadvertently touched. At the very least he doesn't detect any pain... but she's flailing quite a bit in the tub.
Ah. It's probably because her wings are soaked. ] Hang on, hang on, you're going to exhaust yourself like that.
[ Muttering a quick apology, the empath closes his hands in again. At risk of getting his gloves shredded, he attempts to cup them around Setsura's entire body, with thumb and forefinger grabbing each fluttering wing. It's likely that he'll slip a bit, but that's better than her wearing herself down.
Probably. ]
no subject
1/?
2/2
In reality, he simply stares at what is probably about to be a bird transforming into something much bigger that he will then be forced to catch.
So, in preparation of the inevitable, he just holds his arms out and waits. ]
cw: v brief mention of potential body transformation squicks
At the center of that unceremonious eruption of darkness and wind, beneath and within it, rapidly receding feathers give way to skin as Setsura's tiny avian body all at once shifts and changes and grows. Bones crack, skin stretches, tissue rapidly reforms into something, someone far less avian and distinctly human presently falling directly into the water and Kaito's waiting arms with a splash. ]