[Return]  [Bottom[Last Update]
Posting mode: Reply
(Reply to 1709)
  • First time posting? Check out our site rules and FAQ.
  • Supported file types are: GIF, JPG, PNG, WEBM, WEBP.
  • Maximum file size allowed is 4096 KB.
  • Images greater than 200x200 pixels will be thumbnailed.
  • View catalog
Show or hide post box

Hide Thread
Watch Thread
Expand All Images
File 140634343627.jpg - (612.60KB, 816x1062, Sleeveless-Miko.jpg) [iqdb]
The first thing everyone notices about her are, of course, the white detached sleeves. Despite all the other frills and the bright red, it's always the detached sleeves that garner the most attention at first. You can't tell at a distance because they're tied to her arms most of the way up, but when you get closer, it's obvious. I've asked her why several times, but she's never really given a satisfactory answer. I think, way back when, it was her way of distinguishing herself from any other miko on the planet, which is dumb, because she's the most unique miko I've ever met, but then again, I've only met one other one. Anyway...

Usually its the red that focuses your attention on her dress next. She's actually got several different lengths, but the one most people see - and the one I call her "work dress" - is about knee length. The hem of the skirt is frilled with white, and just above the hemline there's a white dashed line pattern that goes all the way around. It's a perfect fit on her, which is more than a lot of people can say about their own clothes, especially my too-big and too-small skirts that I refuse to toss in the trash. Other than the frills, though, it's simple, just like her. Her small size one waist holds the thing up, with a little matching red button right on the front.

The shirt of her getup is the only thing not exclusively red or white. An orange ascot is tied in the center, wrapping around and underneath a white neckline. The neckline has frills as well, extending downward across the main red part of her shirt, with a red dashed line pattern just on the inside of the white. It's the complete opposite of the skirt, intentionally so, to break up the monotony of red-white-red-white. A simple thing to be sure, again, just like her. Underneath that shirt somewhere is a pair of- well, she'd say she's got nothing impressive. It's why she doesn't care when people stare at her chest. There is some truth there; after all, she doesn't eat a lot, and when you don't eat, you don't gain weight, and it doesn't do good for your figure when you don't eat.

Viewed from the side, you can see her sarashi wrapping around her chest. Again, she doesn't care. On cold days, mind, she'll wear her thicker clothing with an orange scarf, but that's rare because during the winter she hibernates like a bear... or I guess, her mentor would be a more appropriate analogy.

When you stare at her face, the first thing you see isn't her actual face, but that gigantic bow on the top of her head. Like everything else, it's red, frilly, and adorned with a dashed line pattern just inside the edge of the bow. The bow ties up her hair, which she's worn in a multitude of ways - ponytail, twintails, loose, even a bobcut once when she was younger - yet the only thing about her hair that remains constant are the twin matching red-white tubes, holding in locks of hair that hand around the side of her face. It's her answer to a braid because she's too lazy to braid it, nevermind that I've offered several times.

Her face is one of stoic beauty. Almond-shaped hazel eyes, a small button nose, soft pink lips... it's the kind of face that would drive many men wild. Sure enough, it has, but behind that calm facade and polite smile are things that you can only see if you've been her best friend for twelve years or more.

It's her eyes. Inside those eyes is a typhoon of emotions, none of which I could charitably call good for you. They're the eyes of a girl saddled with the responsibility of a whole clan; tired eyes, subdued eyes... lonely eyes. There's a terrible sadness to her if you stare at her long enough, behind that cute smile. Maybe I'm waxing poetic, but it's the type of face that makes you want to give her a hug and take all that lonliness away.

I could never imagine being her. An entire country depends on her continuing existence, on her ability to fight "evil" wherever it lies; a country that doesn't know what she's sacrificed to keep them safe. But she doesn't complain; she's not like that. She doesn't talk about her problems, instead offering an ear to listen to yours. You can talk to her about whatever you want, and she'll offer advice the best she can. It won't always be friendly, but it'll be honest, and that rough honesty is sorely lacking in this place, with its white lies and deflected questions. She doesn't seem to mind, but I know it does. After every incident, those eyes... those eyes of hers get a little bit darker, her posture gets a little more slumped, the shrine becomes a little more untidy.

"You want some tea?" she asks me. Of course I say yes, but that I'm good for it and I'll pay her back. She waves it off. She always does. "If you want to thank me, leave a donation."

You'd be surprised to learn that I do in fact leave donations whenever I have the spare change. But this isn't about me.

"What are you writing about?" She asks me, pointing at the wire-bound notebook sitting on my lap. I gesture with my pen, telling her that I'm writing things about things, and she shouldn't snoop. She grins and tries to take the notebook from me, but I fight her off by pushing her face away. When she finally settles down with a pout, I offer to let her see it later. Maybe.

I ask her if she wants to talk about anything in particular, just like always. You can tell a part of her is begging to release the floodgates, but it's not in her job description to ever appear weak. If she did, even for a moment, she'd never live it down... well, that's what she believes. "I'd rather hear about you," she says in a quiet voice. "Tell me, how was your day?"

So of course I humor her by launching into a tirade about stupid fairies and puppeteers. It's what she wants to hear, and she laughs the right moments, smiles at the others, shares my frustrations. She never complains about having to bear the pressures of another person's life. But... I guess that's why to many she's the perfect maiden.

I hate it. Hate it hate it hate it. But when her closest friend can wring out her problems, then there's nothing that can be done. But I'll keep trying.

Because to me, Reimu isn't just a depressed miko living on the edge of civilization. She isn't some great barrier against the evils of the world. She isn't a loadstone capable of bearing the weight of the world on her shoulders.

She's my best friend. She's the only one who deserve all the adoration and loyalty the Buddhists, Taoists, and Kochiyas of the world get. She's the one who needs to be allowed to lie down and relax for once in her life.

She's my miko.

...oh my, listen to me, the hopeless romantic.

It doesn't matter. I'll keep trying. One day, the floodgates will open.

One day.


Something of an experiment. I'm trying this thing where I describe touhous from other touhous viewpoint.
File 140634751877.jpg - (100.87KB, 724x1000, Reimu's Sketch.jpg) [iqdb]
I have no idea what I'm doing, Marisa, just so you know when you read this later. Why you've made the ink on the previous pages invisible is beyond me, too; I know you want it to be a secret, but I would have just not looked. You know me better than that.

I guess you have a reason. Or maybe it's because you're silly. I don't know. I don't think I've ever really stopped to think about you, and now that I'm having to, it's kind of odd.

...I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so rude to you in your own book. I'll try and describe you anyway, because that's the whole point of this I guess.

We're sitting here in Alice's house. You're sitting across from me, legs crossed, with one arm propped up on the back of the air and the other gesturing wildly as you speak to your... what is Alice to you anyway? You fight like an old married couple but then you act like you don't know her. You should talk to me about her sometime, in depth. I'll help anyway I can I'm sorry, I'm rambling again. I could fill your entire notebook up with that.

Right. Describe you in so many words. I can do this.

You're sitting I already said that I think the first thing I noticed about you was that hat. Back then it was purple and fairly normal I guess, but one day you showed up wearing that huge black thing. You called it a traditional witches' hat, whatever that means but it's not traditional at all. At the least, you've definitely made it your own. The white frills underneath the black main body betray your girliness. Well, not that you've ever been not-girly but sometimes you act like a tomboy The black hat is always adorned with a bow of some sort. Usually its white, but sometimes it's green or purple or I think one time it was blue. Sometimes it's not even a bow, just a star-shaped pin. You've got a lot of accessories for your hat and you like switching them out. It's completely random, and I think that's why you do it. You aren't one to just sit around.

Anyway, the second thing I noticed about you is... well, you're blonde. It's not unusual in Gensokyo, but it's such a stark contrast to my own hair that it stuck out to me. Unlike Yukari's, your hair is always wavy, and sometimes it looks like you don't brush it. I've always been jealous of your hair There's always a side of it in a braid that goes down past your neck. Then again, your hair does fall to the middle of your back; you've always had it cut that way. You've always liked your hair, and so have I. Like now, with your hat off, you let your hair down a bit more. It's... it's bright. Yes. Bright, like yourself.

I can't do this
I'll do it for you though

You're beautiful. There's really no other way to put that. Compared to you I look like a hag average. Normally your eyes are a bright green but today they seem to have subdued themselves into a more common light brown. I don't know how they do that, Marisa. I always thought it was magic, and I could be right. They always seem to reflect your emotions, though, which is why, even though you used to lie a lot, I could see right through them. It put me at peace to know what you were thinking. I'm okay with that, I think you are too.

When we were growing up I know you caught hell for your nose, if only cause it's bigger than mine. Not much though. But most people don't see that, just your smile. That smile has lit up many of my bad days. You know that.

I've fantasized about kissing those lips
I'm not into girls just you

You have about four black vests, all of them the same except the design. The one you're wearing now is plain, no buttons or frills, hanging loosely off of your white long-sleeved shirt. I know that shirt's magic, otherwise you couldn't take explosions like you do and come out with it still on. Sometimes you wear a vest with gold buttons, other times there's a bow attached. It's all random, again, just like you. I don't think you'll ever be stable It's nice to watch you change your pace every single day, and you reflect that with your vest and hat. Your skirt too.

You uncross your legs and stand up to help Alice despite her protests. It allows me to actually pay attention to that black thing you call a skirt. It's honestly could probably be better called a dress for as long as it is, stretching all the way down to your ankles. But that's not true either, cause you have skirts that barely even hide your bloomers. There's always an apron to match the length of the skirt, stuffed with all sorts of things - mushrooms, canisters, I know you keep a flask on you at all times. We really need to talk about how much you drink I used to think it was silly but then I realized how much you relied on that set, with the frills and the black-white combination that gave you your nickname.

I wish you'd come live with me
Is it wrong that I'm in love with you

You wear all that heavy stuff for a reason. I never figured it out, but now as I sit here and think about it, watching you help Alice cook, I figured it out. You're a woman, much more than I am, and you don't like letting that show. You cover up your figure in huge clothes and that hat. But I've seen you without all that getup, and I've seen the scars on your back. You don't talk about it but you don't have to. I know it was Mima. She meant well, but sometimes she got a bit aggressive with you. She was trying to teach you the best way she knew how, and we both know that what you experienced was but a shadow of the ordeal she went through.

That's why she was already dead
I'm so jealous of Alice why does she touch your hand like that the smile she gives you

This is going to sound weird but you should show yourself off more. I don't think anyone would complain.

Your personality is a bright, chaotic, wonderful mess. You are a star. You're light. You're bubbly and happy and always smiling. There's not even a trace of regret or doubt in who you are and that's astounding. You're unreasonably reckless and you do what you want, unconcerned about the dealings of the real world while simultaneously carving your own path forward. Logically we should hate each other, since you represent change and I represent tradition, but maybe... maybe that's why we're friends.

You turn to look at me. "Reimu, how's your progress?" You flash a smile at me. I focus my stare downward and nod an affirmative. I'm blushing, I know I am. I can't help it. You're that much prettier than me. Hell, Alice is prettier than me and you make her look about equal to myself. That takes something that just can't be magicked into existence. It's a natural charisma, a certain charm. You say you work with love, and I believe it. I don't think there are many who don't.

Anyway, that's all there is to say about you. My descriptions suck, but it's the best I can pull off. You're still looking at me, and it's embarrassing.

I want you to take me home and hold me and kiss me and make love to me and
Marisa I'm so alone please help me

"You about ready to eat?" Your grin never fades, never falters.

I wish I could tell you how I feel
I wish you would notice me

I nod an affirmative. I can't bear to look at how bright you are sometimes. Even Alice has to turn away from you. "Well get off your bum and let's eat!"

I nod again, squeaking out a yes. It's embarrassing to speak right now.

I love you.

Although there is one thing.
I notice that I'm the only one you call "-chan".
I think that accounts for something.

I know.

I'll draw you.
This is really cute! I think I needed that after the week I've had. You planning on writing any more?

Used sage because I'm late to respond.
Eventually. I'm not doing all the touhous because that's like one hundred plus characters. I'll probably just go in a random order or something, bouncing off the last one for the nexrt one. Should be done.
That was quite good. I'm looking forward to future installments.
I actually teared up a bit in both parts. Really, really, really well done, and I hope to see more.
File 140842801893.jpg - (120.94KB, 850x903, Reimu's Sketch.jpg) [iqdb]
Sure, I can do this. It's no big deal. Reimu's tagging along for the ride, of course, because who in their right mind would go to visit Yuuka Kamazi alone?

...that's what people expect to hear, right? That Yuuka is some mass murdering monster who will kill everyone if she wakes up on the wrong side of the bed? That's stupid. You will not find a gentler soul in Gensokyo, so long as you don't hurt her children. Even then, she's willing to accept that accidents happen. It's when you deliberately hurt her things that she gets mad, and isn't that understandable? If someone came to your home and broke your things, you'd be pretty mad. Remember that next time you decide to break in while I'm working, Marisa.

Anyway, we're sitting here at a table that Yuuka has provided us. She's just served us tea and is standing patiently as Reimu sketches her on another sheet of paper. I'm going to take the effort to describe Yuuka, per your request, but only because for one, we're friends, and for two, I promised to deilver this new set of clothing to her for the oncoming winter, and I think it'll look really good on her. She smiles at us from under her parasol, which from what I understand is actually a giant flower of some sort. I know it's pretty resilient; she's shown me that much when her and I fought. She hardly opens it, but as she twirls it in her left hand, it unfurls on its own, taking in the rays of the radiant sun.

Honestly, I can't figure out why people are terrified of her. I used to think it was the red eyes, but honestly, how many people in Gensokyo have red eyes? There's quite a bit, and no one is going to honestly tell you that Reisen is a dangerous monster. Anyway, off track. Yuuka's eyes are gentle. Her smile really brings them out, and for the most part, she's a happy youkai. Those eyes do hide behind them a great intelligence; if you don't believe me, try to ask her something about anything. She knows a lot, and is one of the few people who can keep up with Yukari's machinations. That alone should tell you everything you need to know about her intellect.

Other than that, she's pretty simple. She doesn't like it when her stuff gets too complex, anyway. She always keeps her meadow-shaded hair short, neck length at its longest. Her outfit is just two pieces, really; a white long-sleeved shirt and a long red plaid dress that covers everything up. She wears a yellow bow on the front of it, tied up neatly. It's got some white frills along the bottom, but other than that it's very plain. She likes that.

She does a twirl for Reimu as she sketches. Reimu laughs, and I smile. Yuuka is a kind soul. I hate it that people think so poorly of her just because she stands alone in her Garden of the Sun. Sure, her humor is... off.. but when you're as old as she is, you develop some weird habits. Of course, I write all this as a personal friend of hers. Yuuka and I go way back when I was but a child... well, we were all children then, weren't we? Even you, Marisa.

"Would you like some more tea?" Asks Yuuka. Of course I do; it would be rude to turn her down. She gladly pours me another cup as Reimu pouts a bit, having lost her model. But, Yuuka quickly reassumes her unassuming stance, her smile still on her face. Reimu's drawing in earnest now, and Yuuka and I share her smile. "Please, Alice, don't make me embarrassed. You're staring so hard," laughs the youkai.

I can't help it. She's quite beautiful. Reimu knows it too, as she keeps pausing to wave away her blush.

Please be nicer to Yuuka, Marisa. You might have stolen Master Spark from her, but did you ever consider repaying her for that?
Aw. That's sweet.
So Reimu's new habit is drawing people?
Sure, why not? Seems like this should be a thing, so now it's a thing.
[Return]  [Top]

Delete or Report
Delete post []
Report post

- Took 0s -
Thread Watcher x
Reply toX