crayola-skies

Prompt; Free time. With unquestionable grace Linneus carried a tray from the kitchen to the gardens, unfaltering-- perhaps Claret could take lessons from the pinkette. He set the silver platter down on one of the garden tables, pouring himself a steaming cup of tea-- the sweet scent of Earl Grey filling the air, mixing with the aroma of the flowers-- roses in particular. Pulling out his chair, Linneus sat down, dropping three sugar cubes into his cup, stirred, then took a sip, letting out a sigh of steam, a small smile gracing his lips. Having free time was rare in the Teahouse-- there was always something to do, but on slow days like today,

No one knew the true weight Ritsu carried on his shoulders-- to them he was just an overly apologetic cross-dresser. No; his issues went much deeper than just his anxiety. The monkey of the Zodiac was kind at heart and rather on the innocent side, but he was not ignorant to pain. Not in the least, actually. No one knew exactly where his insecurities originated and no one bothered to ask, either. Did it matter? Of course not. Akito had never liked Ritsu, not a single bit. Everything about the timid monkey seemed to infuriate their God-- how he talked with a stutter, and how he was just so damned innocent about things. Not to mention that he w

Death is a peculiar thing. To lose someone is a cold and terrible feeling; it's like you're stumbling around in the dark, with no guiding light to shine through and bump into everything that crosses your path. To lose two people very dear to you is unimaginable—unless it's happened to you. Throughout the funeral he didn't say a single word. He sat there quietly with his hands in his lap and his gaze straightforward. He didn't bow his head to pray, but the look on his face said that he was. No tears fell from his eyes, which surprised everyone, it seemed. Ienzo was only a child of seven when the accident happened. Ansem the Wise knew ev

Zexion expected the news to hurt much more than it actually did. He had anticipated a crippling pain to wash over him—after all, Even had been like Ienzo's adoptive father, and though that bond did not very well carry over after they lost their hearts, the Basement Trio had still been nearly inseparable. Even so, upon receiving the news that Vexen was dead, he felt nothing. It was no huge surprise being that he lacked a heart, but he felt only a vague sorrow, though it was distant. It was not true sadness, just the memory of it. He continued about his day, making tea, sitting in the library, reading—all his motions were pantomime.

The little flower With her skin so fair And two lilies in her hair. Hands tied She believed him when he lied. Oh this little flower She never knew she had the power, To think, to feel To be like her sister, and heal. This little girl Her head is in a whirl. All these knew things she doesn't understand No longer her father's right hand. One by one, the stars blink out The little flower, lost in doubt. Her world has lost it's sun, Now she's the only one. "Take them with you," Daddy says, And the little flower, will wither and lose her hue, Much to her dismay, she she reflects to time lost in the rain.

Kikyou looked into the mirror, perfectly focused on her features, wanting to be perfect. I'm better than Yura. Her lips were perfectly red like roses, soft and succulent. She slowly brushed bangs away from her eyes, carefully overdriving each of her delicate features. Her stark black hair fell perfectly, hanging loosely around her shoulders, the layered bangs framing her face quite nicely. "Well don't you look lovely?" A bitter voice called from the doorway where a willowy woman stood, arms crossed over her prominent chest. Her lips were incredibly thin and lacked much color, very pale, making her look sick. Bags hung under her sunken brown

At the sound of his phone going off, Naraku lifted it, looked at the number briefly, and flipped it open, holding the phone to his ear without offering a greeting. The soft, feminine voice of Jakotsu came through the phone, "The bird is in the cage. He's a cute one, won't be long now 'til your little bird comes looking for 'im." "Perfect," the Eastern gang leader mumbled before hanging up, turning on his heels and approaching his twin, Onigumo, grinning like a mad man. "See, brother, I always get my way." His cocky attitude and over confidence radiated off of him, in magnetic waves. Of course, he knew things would not be so easy since the

Fumbling with her keys, Sango stepped out of the elevator—her apartment was on the top floor, four stories up with a walk-out roof and a shitty view of the city. If you were not from Tokyo, you may think it was a nice view, but to her it was just a reminder of the dangerous streets she walked down each day. Looking up—her heart stopped. The door was ajar—which meant someone must have gone inside—or even worse. Come out. Suddenly she found her feet moving quickly towards the door and throwing it open, going inside, hand on her pocket knife, which permanently sat in the pocket of her leather jacket, in case of emergencies.