Writing Prompt #3 - Twofer! - (10/10 - 10/24/16)

[Custodian]

Welcome to our special Two-for-One writing prompt, courtesy of your friendly neighborhood admin's bad memory! Here are your topics for the week:

WARM FUZZIES
Write about a memory that makes your character smile/laugh whenever they think about it.

HARD CHOICES
Write about a time that your character had to make a hard choice — maybe even one that they regret making to this day.
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[Kuro-Hebi]

Hard Choices
This is something I wrote a year ago but it can't be more relevent. Kuro had to chose between two person... and he made the wrong choice initially. Good thing that Theodore's love for him was strong enough to forgive him.

A moth to the flame
Oct. 20th 2015

His one hundred and fifty dollar bottle of sake laid empty on the coffee table, next to equally empty bottles of cheap Korean beers. Katsuro let out a long sigh as he drained the last cup of the clear liquid and fell back heavily on the couch. He hadn't bothered to lit any lamp, thus the living room of his little house in Seoul was draped in darkness. Through the double sliding doors leading outside, he could see the night sky, yet the stars were merely a blur; he'd drank a lot and his head was spinning and heavy, just like the rest of his body. He didn't care. Right here, right now, he couldn't give a fuck about anything. His highly inebriated state didn't help ward off the spirits that haunted him in this time of year either. His emotions were riding a damn rollercoaster and he'd burst out laughing one moment and cry the next. But it was all aimed at himself; laughing about his own stupidity, crying about the pain he couldn't push away.

His phone vibrated a few times that evening but, after lazily looking at the sender, he'd thrown the damn phone somewhere in a dark corner of the room. His handler, asking for his services again. Katsuro had never refused any assignments but there was a first for everything, wasn't it? Beside, going out as he was now would be mere stupidity. He rubbed a shaky hand to his face and felt the roughness of a two days old stubble; he probably looked like shit. Sleep was tugging at his brain, his eyelids heavy and the whispers poking at his mind. He just wanted to forget... forget him...

Dylon. How bright and fiery! He'd been mesmerizing. With him, Katsuro had indulged in selfish pleasures that turned to bad habits. But like a moth to the flame, he got too close and paid the price. Dylon had consumed him, possessed him, yet he'd never realized it until someone else appeared in his life. And Katsuro had been torn in two. One was burning passion and lust while the other offered a soothing embrace, like a cup of fresh water to his parched and burning heart. In the end, loyalty had decided for him and Katsuro pushed one away and walked back into the inferno.

But his eyes had been opened and he kept looking back at the decision he had made. It was too late to turn around but maybe he could escape from the flame, avoid the fate of the moth... He'd told Dylon it was over. Put all the blame on himself, apologized until he was out of words. And now he was alone again, cold and empty inside, blaming himself for the pain he had caused and for that expensive bottle of sake he emptied all by himself.

Sleep won the battle and covered him like a blanket, while the spirits and ghosts drew nearer, ready to feast on his fears and nightmares. He'd wake up often that night, shivering and confused, and more often than not running for the bathroom. In the end, he simply laid there on the cold ceramic floor until the first rays of dawn... and the worse hangover of his life. Even his splitting headache was no match for the aching in his heart. Despite it all, he rumaged through the living room for his phone and went out, walking the streets of Seoul aimlessly. When the rain came, he didn't seek shelter but only sat down by the side of the road, a part of him hoping the water would purify him in any way. As he sat there, drenched and shivering, he pulled his cell phone from a breast pocket and sent out a single text message.

@TeddyLareaux: Can you ever forgive me?

 

[Kuro-Hebi]

2016.10.16 - Warm Fuzzies
Write about a memory that makes your character smile/laugh whenever they think about it.

Theodore Lareaux stepped up to the door of one of those traditional house in the Bukchon Hanok Village in the heart of Seoul , balancing two large duffel bags over each shoulder and a smaller bag against his hip. Another satchel was under his arm and, despite it all, he managed to knock on the door without dropping everything. When the door opened, he was greeted by an amused snort coming from an Asian man at least a head shorter than him - granted the black man was towering over everything with his 6'4.

"You know you could have asked for help, Come on, give me a few of those." The Asian man - Katsuro - replied as he grabbed a few bags and stepped away from the entrance. Unusually heavy, he left them near the wall leading to the kitchen.

"I managed to bring it down to the essential." Theodore exclaimed, though, knowing the man, Katsuro was sure those were filled with guns and other nonsense.

"Just the essential? How often do those things break if you need so many? I hope the trunk at the foot of the bed will be big enough to store most of that. If you still need more space, we can hide another trunk behind the decorative screen in the living room." Katsuro half sighed. Yet this was merely a facade, for he was truly happy to have the man here with him.

"I can disassemble most of them so they should fit... I like having them around... you know for emergencies. Certain operations require different stuff," Theodore replied, eyeing Katsuro's sword on its stand in the living room. "Well for me anyways," he shrugged, setting the smaller bag down "Can I put my clothes in the wardrobe?"

Katsuro led him to the bedroom, pointing at the big wardrobe on the wall and the other furniture that were empty and only waiting to be appropriated. He sat on the bed as the other man began putting his guns away very neatly - though he was less thoughtful with his clothes, shoving them away and out of sight rather quickly.

"I uh.. forgot to mention the shower here is well... a Korean shower? Same as Japanese ones really, without the bathtub sadly. I miss those. So I hope it's alright. I know not everyone likes them." Katsuro finally confess. Theodore took a peak in the small bathroom and simply nodded.

"Beats a garden hose, or a camp shower; the pumps on those are terrible." The big man then walked to Katsuro and sat on the bed next to him. "Best of all, I'm with you." He added, running his fingers through the Asian man's thick mess of black hair. They talked of simple things, what Theodore would like to have in here (a TV for instance), but truth be told, Katsuro couldn't remember it all. His proximity, his hand in his hair and that warmth in his chest; that's all that mattered. He did remember the tall man knocking his head on the low doorframe when getting out of the bedroom - that was quite funny, though by now, Theodore had learned to duck. Those ancestral homes had not been made for a tall American man after all.

After showing Theodore around - which didn't take long, the place was rather small - they ended up in front of the sliding doors leading outside. Through the glass they could see the small garden and the two adjacent houses, one a guest house that was empty most of the year but at the tourist season, and the other belonging to a sweet old lady that was apparently very used to things of the Secret World, though she would never tell her story. Katsuro respected that and simply enjoyed her company when he had time to meditate in the garden. Theodore had wrapped his muscular arms around the small Asian man. Shô, Katsuro's ghost cat, ended up purring around Theodore's ankles. That was a good sign that the man was welcomed here.

Katsuro couldn't remember how long they stayed like that, talking of ordinary life. It was a welcomed change from his usual busy life dealing with the supernatural. He felt safe from the world in Theodore's embrace. It had definitely took him by surprise when the big man had crouched down to sling him over his shoulder.

"How about we visit the bedroom again?" He offered with a grin. To which he was rewarded by Katsuro's laughter.

"You better not knock me on the door frame. ... I feel like some kind of Neanderthal ... " Which only made him laugh even more.

Well, the rest is up to the imagination. Thinking back on that day, Katsuro can't help but smile. The day Theodore moved in with him. Their little house in Seoul, nested in the Dragon's Coils, has become so much more than simply a place to sleep before the next day of work. The meals they shared, the movies they watched curled up in each other's arms, that little garden that they now take care of together. The little bathroom got renovated by Katsuro's request and now features a deep Japanese bath in which they can lazily end a hard day of work. It's become a proper 'home' because really....

Home is where the heart is.

 

[Fushichou]

Hard Choices

Aka bowed low upon entering the room and moved in before sitting seiza when the figure in the darkest part of the room gestured him to approach.

"Aka-san, you know this is a time of change and the new messenger of the Dragon requires new faces for our family as well. As such in light of the recent events in Seoul I will step down from my position of leader of our Clan..."

Aka did not show emotions as he was expecting this to happen and his brother to take up the mantle of his grandfather as even if Buru had been branded a traitor by some among the Clan, he had the full support of the Korinto-kai's mysterious leader.

"and I want you to rule in my stead."

Shiba Masato took the katana that was resting next to him and holding it, offered it to Aka.

When at a crossroad, always choose the hardest path.

He was genuily surprised but quickly bowed low to the ground:
"I can not accept, Masato-dono, like Yukihime-dono often said, I am too soft for this; I do not have what it takes to be the Oyabun. I am sorry to disappoint you but I shall better serve as a mere kyodai."

Masato's fist clenched to the red saya as cold anger coursed through his eyes:
"iie, you either shall serve as an Oyabun or not at all!"

Aka kept his submissive posture and stayed silent.

"Very well then I shall hand Fushichou to a more worthy wielder..." saying this he put the katana back at his side "Now leave, Aka-san, and never return else your life will be forfeited."

"Hai, Masato-dono!"

Aka rose and bowed one last time to his grandfather before leaving his home forever.

As he moved out of the room the image of a flying phoenix passed in his eyes.

 

[Cen]

Warm Fuzzies

Cen laid her small head against Offero-sensei’s chest, spindly legs swinging, childlike, from her place on his lap. They sat on a swing in the park, the large bald man holding the tiny dark girl, his kendo kit at his feet. One might mistake them for father and daughter, except for their drastic difference in coloring.

“Sometimes it's so hard to be so big in world that is so little.” She sighed.

She could feel the tension in his chest as he lifted an arm to pat her awkwardly on the back. He was completely out of his depth and it was obvious. But what was she supposed to do? Her skin was stuck and he was the only kind thing in the vicinity. And he was very brave, letting the unpredictably dangerous wild girl sit on his lap.

Cen sighed and slid to the ground. Instantly her mood changed and she was once again the wild girl of old.

“I’d like some sugar, please. Can we walk to the shop for some milk tea?” Hopping from one foot to the other she grinned up into his face.

He stared into Cen’ dark gamine face and wondered once again how he had become her caretaker. Although, caretaker implied that he had more power over her than he actually did. Cen lived in the park across from his second story apartment. The landlady would often leave dishes of water and seeds out for the local birds. Little did Oba realize that the wild girl she often lamented over, was who she'd been feeding for a year.

Offero shook his head, picked up his kit which included Cen's tiny practice sword, and led the way. “I might as well. You’ll get your sugar no matter what; even if that means stealing it from the grocer. You know that, that is bad, right?”

Cen was skipping next to him humming a little tune that he wasn’t familiar with. “No. He has so much, he won't notice a little missing. I am only borrowing a little after all.”

“Borrowing means that you’ll give it back later.”

“Really? That’s silly. How am I supposed to give it back if it's in my belly?” Cen made a face trying to think through the puzzle. “No one would buy it then.” He laughed and swung their clasped hands, she was a mystery.