The adventures of Fushishi part 2Days at the forest-villageThe adventures of Fushishi part 2 by Master-Kankuro
A lively place and a visit at another Kabuki-theatre
Fushishi, his student Glion and the others of the the Aragoto-clan, continued their trip to the first bigger stop at Noir Vale.
After the mourning moment at the former home-town "Kabuki no Ken" they finally reached the deep forest surrounding Noir Vale. Before reaching it, they did some spare stops for throwing few plays.
Right before reaching the region´s main-village, a mysterious hut appeared and a loud bang was heard by the travelers. Rememberig, who Fushishi was suggested to search, he hoped it was Mari the Mismagius-lady. But the explosion-like noise made him and the others worry about her wereabouts.
Luckily it turned out to be one of her experiments, which backfired just at the moment.
After shortly introducing everybody were invited into Mari´s homeplace.
The Mismagius was already informed and prepared for the Aragotos´ arrival.
In her house, she showed and explained s
03 - New Grounds03 - New Grounds by KiriRamdeo
Raylan leaned on the wood desk and pushed his forehead against the heels of his hands. There was no way this was happening.
Two years since the night in the cabin and still this rose from the depths to dig its claws into his back. It was the same as the wolf running wild in the forest enjoying the feel of the dirt under its paws when suddenly it comes upon a fence. Then it realizes it is trapped, boxed in on a reservation that protects it from outsiders but limits its freedom. He was having such a damn good run too.
The letter before him was long and eloquently penned by his mother. She filled the page with congratulations for his earned detective’s badge and an invitation to a clan reunion, but he could pick out the hidden messages: Chloe’s life is still in your hands. Come home now.
Jaeda shoved her body upwards, reaching for the next fissure in the rock
01 - Ointment01 - Ointment by KiriRamdeo
White blinds lay still behind the window and a faint glow surrounded the heavy curtains, hinting at the daylight beyond. Melancholy music crawled across the floor from a digital clock radio by the bed and formed a hub of sound around the figure in the back corner wrapped in a maroon comforter. A plate with stale crumbs rested on a stack of books and a spider danced across the wall to an old cobweb overhead.
He rubbed damp, dusty cloth on the raw skin under his eyes and sniffed; there was nothing to smell except his own stink. He did not remember the last time he had taken a shower, and the food from the plate had been flushed away with whatever meager waste his body had struggled to produce.
The shelves of books had ceased to amuse him, failed to drown him in their worlds. In each chapter the text he read was superimposed from his mind’s eye: the teasing games of chase around the apartment, the kiss of bodies spread across the sheets, her touch on his back while he spoke to photo