I tried putting in a bunch of different posts of mine. First it told me I write like Cory Doctorow, and then I was HP Lovecraft. And then Stephen King, Douglas Adams, James Joyce, Kurt Vonnegut, and JD Salinger. And then Stephen about ten more times.
— outofcharacter: I got Neil Gaiman four times in a row. Go figure.
lycaeninae started following you
xion-azure started following you
xiv-xion started following you
lycaeninae started following you
Two faces held some uncanny resemblance whilst the other possessed a differing aura. Unsure whether he should be disturbed or simply brush off such unease with a crafty sneer. He merely waited for spoken verse to grace his ears, the glowing ultramarine orbs that were held perfectly by a porcelain visage would stare intently upon the strange folk. An unwavering curiousity that beckoned to be quenched.
“—And who are you?”
It seemed that as the days passed, the star found herself wandering farther and farther away from the only place she knew that connected her to her previous post in the sky. Though, the more vehement her resolutions to remain in the general vicinity of the crater, the stronger the pull of wishes tugged at her bones. Sometimes it was a tree whose heart echoed on the winds. Sometimes it was a bear or a wolf or a dying fawn grasping at stars for a chance to keep breathing.
Most often, though, it was a person, someone who, from their very first breath, cradled the wish to live and continued to hoard wants and desires so powerful and so all-consuming that their very essence— at least to her— was altered. The star with her cheeks like buttermilk and eyes like crayons had trailed behind the figure, fingers clenched in fists as the air hummed like bees. It was impulsive. Unconscious. So when he addressed her, she jolted.
“Have you—”
There was a pause.
The star cleared her throat. “Have you ever wished upon the first star of the night?”
source: rinburevolution
My Brightest Diamond
-
Golden Star
9 plays
- the falling of a star: the awakening -
It was hardly unusual to find the western daiyoukai looking up at the sky. Even when it was not night, he often did so and became lost in his own thoughts. This particular night he stood underneath a large tree, head turned heavenward. In a brief flash his eyes narrowed as something literally seemed to shoot across the sky, and hit the ground a few miles away. Odd. Shooting stars were certainly something he had seen before, particularly because Rin enjoyed pointing them out, but never had he seen one hit the Earth. His curiosity was undoubtedly piqued, and with the knowledge that his retainer and ward were somewhere else, safe, he followed the trajectory of it’s path, noting the distinct lack of youkai in the area.
Eyes narrowing as he entered the clearing, he spotted the being in the middle of it all, dirty, and obviously rather content to simply remain there. Both intrigue and duty kept him there, for even with the female did not look like much, it was not the case. Approaching with ease, he stopped less then a foot away from her, calculating gaze focused solely on her. Inhaling deeply, her scent was strangely clean, because it did not smell like anything he could ever describe. It was as if she smelled of everything and nothing at the same time. How she survived the fall, he could not be sure. “What are you?” The daiyoukai murmured, genuine fascination in his tone as he stared down at her, having the same sense of calm that came whenever he was around the flower, Noa. But he knew she was not a flower; but neither was she human, or youkai. At least, none that he was aware of.
She felt it. Oh, she felt it. As the being slowly approached the area where she rested, the air began to change. The breeze began to change. The gentle hum of trees and ants and rocks and grass gave way, parting like a sea for the new arrival. It was as if this stranger were a god. The hum they brought was deafening, containing the tiny shivers of emotion of the plants and greater, more complex desires that they could not imagine. Though the star was new to the planet, the hairs standing on end from beings so brazen as to be so alive had her wondering if it was normal. If this hum was how wolves felt when they padded along the forest.
If this was how humans felt.
Footsteps. As the distance between closed, the star could make out footsteps. Two feet padding along the grass. They were very close at this point— she could taste the slow-cooking wish radiating from their form— and she wondered if they would pass by, unknowing that a fallen star rested in a cradle of earth, waiting for the fog to clear. She rolled her jaw. The steps continued. Grass just shy of her fingers bent, causing a domino effect, and, now, she felt, the effects of the stranger’s presence.
“What are you?”
It was enough for the star. The question was enough for her to slide her hands beneath her chest, arms shakily pushing torso up. She grit teeth in silent protest of Earth’s gravity before straightening posture, tilting head and opening arms to study the man who had happened upon her. White hair met her gaze. Long, flowing locks that seemed the color of moonlight. Her brow furrowed, and her eyes flickered to take in other details. The clothing was not something she’d seen a lunar being don before, but the skin, the crescent moon upon his face— the latter of which inspired her to reach a hand for the mark on her own forehead— they were all familiar in their own way. This man. He could not be human.
“You look like the moon.”
The star frowned, recalling the question. “I am a star. The south pole star of the moon.” She then waved her hand as if it were a trivial question, one that would not be allowed to supersede her own curiositiy. “You cannot be a denizen of the moon, but you… you resemble them. How is that?”
