[The sound of laughter is raucous in the air, a cluster of people together, all smiling. One is a tall young man with pink hair and a sword to match Raimei's, several short with dark hair, a grumbling Westerner, a one-armed blond man, and one boy with white hair. Raimei is among them, even bubblier and more vivacious than usual, and if your character approaches she'll include them immediately, bounding over to them.]
You're here! [Raimei lurches in to wrap her arms around them and hug them tightly, half-laughing.] You have to smile, okay?
[ 2 | cw: violence, death ]
[In direct contrast to the dream before, this one is dark. The sky is black, and vaster for the leaping, roaring flames that consume an old, traditional style Japanese compound. Shoji screens and walkways go up in crackling red and orange, burning down to ashes and embers, and there is charred, disfigured flesh scattered as corpses.
Those looking closely will realize that most of the bodies were killed not by the fire, but by sword wounds, and most have their own swords in hand.
Raimei stands at the entrance, holding hers loosely in a grip at her side, and her eyes are blank as she stares at it. Unmoving, she'll need to be interrupted to gain a response; but as time goes on, her expression contorts more and more into a deep countenance of hate.]
Raimei Shimizu | OTA
[The sound of laughter is raucous in the air, a cluster of people together, all smiling. One is a tall young man with pink hair and a sword to match Raimei's, several short with dark hair, a grumbling Westerner, a one-armed blond man, and one boy with white hair. Raimei is among them, even bubblier and more vivacious than usual, and if your character approaches she'll include them immediately, bounding over to them.]
You're here! [Raimei lurches in to wrap her arms around them and hug them tightly, half-laughing.] You have to smile, okay?
[ 2 | cw: violence, death ]
[In direct contrast to the dream before, this one is dark. The sky is black, and vaster for the leaping, roaring flames that consume an old, traditional style Japanese compound. Shoji screens and walkways go up in crackling red and orange, burning down to ashes and embers, and there is charred, disfigured flesh scattered as corpses.
Those looking closely will realize that most of the bodies were killed not by the fire, but by sword wounds, and most have their own swords in hand.
Raimei stands at the entrance, holding hers loosely in a grip at her side, and her eyes are blank as she stares at it. Unmoving, she'll need to be interrupted to gain a response; but as time goes on, her expression contorts more and more into a deep countenance of hate.]