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God news: my laptop's back from repairs and its easier to write now cause KEYBOARDS!!!
Bad news: i lost all my music files (which I've been building up since 2012) and pictures. FACK.
Since it took me so fucking long to get this out, here's an extra long update. Well, I say that but it;s really only a little longer than what I usually do cause I kept adding shit and eeeeeehhh.
Also, anyone got some high=quality Sekibanki wallpapers?
Up to you.
You expect a lot of things when you wake up nowadays, but today it smells like [X]someone’s bleeding over the carpet. That’s concerning. So is that brief ringing sound that you pick up and lose in the same second.
Carefully, you tighten your grip on Sekibanki with one arm while the other pries Elly’s arms off you as the knocking on the door continues. With the arm that just pried you loose from Elly, you push yourself up, reaching out slowly and feeling for the staff that you left leaning against the table. Your fingers brush against it, almost causing it to fall, but you catch it in time, breathing a sigh of relief. You carefully set Seki’s head down on said table (wouldn't want a repeat of yesterday, after all) and begin creeping your way to the sound and smell of the person behind the door.
You highly doubt that someone who smells so much like blood has any pure intentions. You place your hand on the doorknob, poised to lash out with your staff at whoever’s there, when—
“Elly? I wish to inform you that Wriggle has eaten your apples again.”
A resounding crash comes from behind you as something tears through the house and tosses you back from the door before you can even react. Then you hear the door being flung open.
“She did WHAT?! I’M GOING TO KILL THAT LITTLE SHIT!”
You hear Elly stomp off as that damned rigning briefly irritates you before disappearing again and the bloody-smelling person’s footsteps enter the house.
“I apologize for the inconvenience,” she says as her footsteps stop in front of you. “She never showed up last night so the mistress sent me to search for her.”
After she says this, you hear something crash from deeper within the house.
“Is a peaceful morning to feckin’ much to ask for?” Seki mutters from the table. The muffled footsteps from further in the house tell you that her body is getting up as well and is most likely the new source of the crashing sounds.
You let out a long-suffering sigh as you push yourself off your ass and forward on your hands so you can feel around for the staff you lost when Elly tossed you.
You hear her step closer to you before something pokes against your hand. You grab it, feeling upwards to make sure it’s what you’re looking for. You're about to thank her once you’re satisfied that it’s your staff, but then you get a fresh dose of that new bloody smell and settle for a small nod.
“Feckin… I swear. No respect fer privacy. Wash! Where the fuck—” Sekibanki’s voice approaches, then pauses. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want, Kurumi?”
You turn your head in the direction of Seki’’s voice, questioningly raising an eyebrow. They know each other?
“It’s a long story,” she replies, “One that *some* people were made to swear they would not talk about.”
You get the feeling that she threw a glare at this Kurumi as she says this.
“My apologies,” Kurumi says. “I was not aware that my status as a one-night-stand was something—”
She’s cut-off when you feel the heat of a bolt flying past the side of your head towards her. You don’t hear a sound of impact, though.
You did hear the other thing, though.
“It’s none of your concern, Wash.”
“I know, but—”
“Irving Washinton, so help me I will rip out your tongue if you don’t shut the fuck up about that now.”
“Does that mean you will be using your mouth? I was unaware that biting your partner’s tongue was a part of that ritual.”
You take a moment to rationalize that Sekibanki’s body is probably still somewhere else in the house, hence why she’d have to use her mouth. Then you realize what was just said and you slowly turn towards the direction of Kurumi’s voice.
“Forgive me, was it something I said?”
In the few seconds that you don’t hear anyone else do it, you decide to do it instead.
“Are you done?” Seki asks, her voice dangerously low.
“I’m afraid not. It is my day off, and seeing as how I have no immediate family or friends, I require your company.”
You hear Sekibanki’s body crash into something further into the house.
“Oh my god, you’re serious,” Seki mutters. And continues muttering as you hear her voice fade deeper into the house.
“Er… Come in, I suppose?” you say to her, unsure and still bothered by the SHEER AMOUNT OF BLOOD YOU CAN SMELL ON HER.
LIKE, HOLY SHIT.
“Oi, Wash,” Seki, suddenly back at your side, whispers into your ear.
You jump in surprise.
“Is something bothering you?” Kurumi asks.
You frantically shake your head. "No, no, just got startled by something is all."
“It’s rude to make that kind of face at people, you know?” Seki quietly continues.
“Forgive me, but I found it hard to maintain my compusure when our ‘guest’ smells like someone’s been murdered. Quite violently, I might add.”
Seki sighs. “Riiiight. Forgot that it’d be you or Kagerou who’d pick up on that. Look, all you need to know is that she’s not gonna kill anyone, and if anything happens, I’ll handle it.”
You emote skeptically towards the direction of her voice.
“Trust me. I may be hungover but I’m not immediately violent and irrational.”
Of course she isn’t. Your bite-marked hand can testify that she’s only immediately violent when she’s sober.
“Oh, fuck off. It’s my house.”
Reluctantly, you shrug. “Fine.”
You follow Seki’s voice, as she had begun to hum an indistinguishable tune as she floated deeper into the house, after you reach out and shut the front door.
The path memorized, you make your way to the table where it smells as though Seki’s body already set the morning tea out. That and bloody murder. Kurumi’s sitting there as well, you realize as you sit down.
You can hear some more shuffling sounds and plates being moved around off to the side where you assume Sekibanki is (you note that her humming comes from there as well, meaning her head’s rejoined her body). The faintest ‘whoosh’ reaches you followed by… something you don’t recognize. It smells odd, almost like a swamp but not quite. You hear the sound of something sizzling and something sniffing really close to you.
You jerk your head to the side, facing the source of the sniffing sound and are rewarded with a barely-audible startled catching-of-breath.
“Were you… smelling me?”
Kurumi clears her throat. “Indeed.”
You hear the briefest and strangely-softest of high-pitched whines.
“Forgive me. There is no reason.”
You slowly turn away from her, focusing on the scent of tea before you and ignore what had just happened in favor of feeling around for your teacup.
‘Sssip.’ Kurumi sipping her tea, you presume.
‘Ssssss.’ Seki’s cooking something. You smell eggs shortly after the sizzling sound.
Your hand finally brushes against the teacup, which was much farther to the right than you anticipated, but find yourself unable to drink your tea. Why?
She’s taking a drink in front of you.
It’s not something you can just ignore. After all, blood was precious. Not necessarily for bloodletting, though. Apparently there were newer, “proper” ways to go about medicinal usage of blood. You like to think that, operating with only one working eye belowdecks where the sun rarely shone except through the gaps in the planking and often having to assist in bloodletting back on the ship as the only other person with a modicum of experience in the matter, you can tell what a person going through a bloodletting smells like.
Then there was that one time you bought a whole pig from a merchant who didn’t get the memo that you wanted it slaughtered before delivery and you made the mistake of leaving the bucket of blood on a shelf. Somebody. Had an accident and long story short, the two of you had a grand old time giving everyone nightmares.
Kurumi smelled like that, only it was a disturbing mix of different kinds of blood (you can identify pig, chicken, cow, human, among other things), and tea. What kind of tea? You wish you knew.
The smell of eggs is closer now, much closer and there’s no more sizzling sounds. It’s… rather bland, to be honest, but a fragrant bland. Clean, if not for the blood, which mixes. Metallic. Not necessarily pungent. Natural, you dare say, but sickening because of your memories of the times when such a large amount was involved. Lars’ bloodletting. The pig blood incident. Isaa-
.,,damn. It’s gone.
The smell isn’t though. It’s not. It’s so obvious it might as well be intoxicating.
The clatter of plates. Scraping across the table, ceasing in front of you and the smell of eggs. And blood. Lots of—
“I must say that I was quite surprised,” Kurumi suddenly says. “I had known about Imaizumi and Hime, but I did not expect one of Sekibanki’s associates to be a bat youkai.”
You don’t… how did she…?
Fucking hell you don’t even. Just… no.
“That is so wrong on so many levels,” Sekibanki says, perfectly vocalizing your thoughts as your palm meets your face. Around the same time as Seki’s if the sound’s anything to go by.
“Oh? Am I mistaken?” Dear lord you can imagine her tilting her head to the side in curiosity. Is that what she’s doing? Probably. “I had noticed your reacting to my scent and sound earlier, so I’d just assumed—“
“Firstly, no. Seven circles of hell no.” You weren’t always blind, after all. “Second, how can anyone not notice the smell?! Who the hell died and bled all over your?!”
“Hmm?” Fucking shit she’d definitely got her head tilted. “I beg your pardon?”
“Kurumi, we’ve talked about this,” Seki says. “Not everybody knows that you live near the Lake of Blood!”
You whip your head to the side towards the sound of Seki’s voice with an expression of disbelief on.
“Yes, Wash, a literal lake of blood. Don’t ask, nobody died.” She pauses, as though having an afterthought. “...recently.” There we go.
“It is not so bad,” Kurumi politely protests. “While I understand that not all youkai are so-inclined, it is quite the place to live for a vampire such as myself.”
“You. A vampire,” you say. Not so much in disbelief, but inwardly you may as well be saying: “of course she is. Why am I not surprised.” It’s something you could hear in your head, right after the strange initial reaction to either whip out a crucifix or just run away. Strange.
“That is correct. I believe I had just stated so.”
There’s so many things you want to say, most of which are behind the veil, but at this point what’s really bugging you is how unaffected you are. Hello? This is the affected side talking. Run.
Hmm… nah, what could happen.j
“Okay,” you say, finally mustering the nerve to ignore the bloody smell and take a sip of your tea. “That’s nice.”
“Well, I lean more towards a vampire’s nature as a bat than my distant relatives in the mansion so the near-useless eyesight is awfully inconvenient, but I suppose it has its charms.” ‘Sssip.’
Now that catches your attention. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“I’m not completely blind, you know. I can tell you’re not even holding anything up.”
“That so?” You take another sip while utensils continue to clatter on a plate (probably Seki’s). “You get that a lot?”
“Quite often, actually. On bad days I do not even have the luxury of a rebuttal.”
“That bad, huh?” You’re not sure if your guess about having that kind of eyesight is correct or not. Not because yours was half gone followed by the rest and it all happened immediately when it did, but because you can’t remember the specifics of those yet
“Shall I assume you’ve been a victim of a hand-waving as well?”
Well… You think you were. “I’ve been a victim of many things.”
“Oh, dear. You are a newcomer, are you not? Has Gensokyo been so that bad to you?”
You unconsciously take note of how the sound of Seki eating breakfast is no longer there.
 “Eh… It has it’s charms.”
 “Pretty much, yeah.”