manuscripture | ( IC INBOX / BUSINESS CARD )

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, ROHAN KISHIBE. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 512.66.730.91 * USER has joined 512.66.730.91 <AUTOMATED REPLY, DO NOT RETURN:> You have reached the inbox of Rohan Kishibe. I am currently away and unable to answer messages. Leave a BRIEF** message with a subject line below. Messages will be replied to in order of importance and subject matter. Advertisements and junk mail will be ignored and blocked from this server.

[ Somewhere around town-- at the bookstore, the Tomoe-Kaname Bakery, attached to posts and notice boards --you find a small white notecard. On it is printed a little message and some numbers in ornate lettering. If you look closely, it reads the following: ]

Rohan Kishibe, Mangaka & Visual Artist
Owner Pro Tempore of Ebony Threads Tailor Shop
Highly Experienced.
Commissions & Advertising For Hire
Pay Negotiable.
Contact At: 512.66.730.91 for inquiries
Castle Lüvchaque - Directly North of Bavan per appointment ONLY.

(( feel free to use this as an action-based prompt too. any random interactions will MOST LIKELY take place in the form of walk-ins at the tailor shop unless it's pre-planned. just drop a starter in here! ))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[She doesn't know what to do.]

[It just, it all happened so quickly, it happened so quickly and she doesn't know what to do and her heart is pounding in her ears and she doesn't know what to do.]

[She can't focus. She can't think. She knows she needs to get away, to get help, to find the police or the nearest passerby who might help her but she can't. Fear has paralyzed her, it's robbed her of her wits. She cannot think of what she ought to do, only what she feels, what she wants, and more than anything she just wants to go home.]

[She wants to go home, and with a burst of flame that is exactly where her instincts take her.]

[A ring of fire roars to life just outside Rohan's bedroom, scorching the floor and filling the air with the acrid stench of burnt carpet. Within seconds the fire dies away, leaving behind a ring of smoke and ash - and within it, Lorna, whose shaky legs have finally given out beneath her. She sinks heavily to her knees, her eyes wet and wide as she stares at her hands in both awe and growing horror.]

Mr.Kishibe...

[Her voice is quiet, shaky, as small as she feels.]

...Sir?

[Her claws are gone. Her claws are gone and in their place are soft pink nails and oh God in Heaven her legs feel as though they're splitting apart.]

--Rohan!

[ Ever wanted to get an actual nap? Ever wanted to curl up on top of your blanket pile under your favorite window to be toasty?

that's great and all but

If there is anything that is going to jar Rohan out of a nap, it's fire. Whether he sees it or not-- or how much exposure he's had to it???? --it's always going to give him Anxiety.

Particularly when it explodes.

As with EVERY SINGLE TIME he spooks, Rohan inhales harshly and puffs his body up from his cheeks down through most of his back. His scales are stuck up in many places like rows of spines, his hollowed-out chest expanding quite a bit. ]

Lorna-- [ Getting startled is nothing compared to Lorna's alarmed wail and her crumpled up form starting to wither on the floor.

Ignore his body's Attempt at being scary on the fly because GOSH DANGIT he's all over this. Scooping the poor girl into his arms, he plops her right onto his quilt pile. ]

Lorna, what happened--? [ Oh Man, it's like when everybody changed monsters all over again. ]

Any other time, she might have been embarrassed - she's too old to be coddled like this, too old to be scooped up and tended to like a child with a scraped knee, but she doesn't protest. She doesn't do much of anything, really, beyond stare at her shaking hands and try with all her might to not imagine what must be going on behind her.]

[Her wings are - they feel like they're going to--]

[Nonono no no. She's not going to think about it. She's not going to think about it. Rohan said something, didn't he? She'll think about that instead.]

There was a man, he - he did something to me, he poured poison in my veins and now I've gone to rot.

[Her eyes tear themselves away from her hands, looking instead to Rohan, desperate and pleading.]

[Though she is far from a child, she cannot help but look to Rohan in the way of one; eyes wide and fearful, hopeful that somehow he can fix this, fix her.]

[ He can fix a handful of things. Whatever's going on here... Probably not but the look in her eyes twists the knife in his chest. ]

Poison?

[ Oh no. ]

Poison. Those filthy beasts-- [ He bites at the air the way he would a person. Someone set a hand on Lorna and put that human swill in her. Disgusting. ]

You aren't rotting. [ His voice does not waver. It stays smooth and as soothing as he can manage as his tail whips around to press coolness to her forehead. What he DOES know is that she isn't dying. ] Lorna... Eyes here... [ He has an idea.

She is afraid and as much as he does not want to enjoy that, he can't help it. Rohan's eyes pop wide open and his eyes go all aglow... He lingers near her face and if she looks at him, there will be a camera-flash of light-- a soothing light that is meant to relax her. Snanax (snake Xanax). ]

Easy now...

[ It isn't much. It's Something. ]

[She isn't rotting. Ha. She has never known Rohan to lie, nor would she ever accuse him of being anything less than truthful with her, but surely his eyes do not see what hers do - she sees her claws falling out, she sees her tail withering away. If that isn't rotting, she isn't sure what else it could possibly be.]

[In the back of her mind, she hears a small, reasonable voice suggest that she may be just a touch hysterical at the moment. She honestly can't say she disagrees with it.]

[She looks up when asked, the gesture more mechanical than deliberate. Even if she can't rely on her conscious mind to make decisions for her, her obedient nature can be trusted to take over in its stead.]

[She looks up at Rohan, her trust in him tempering the fear in her stare. She meets his gaze readily, and in a flash - a literal and figurative flash - her fear subsides, giving way to a quiet shock.]

[She blinks, suddenly bleary-eyed, then sniffs. Her mouth quivers a bit, and after a short pause she sniffs again and lets out a shaky breath, her eyes falling shut as she leans forward to touch her forehead to Rohan's chest, seeking shelter in closeness and privacy behind the curtain of her hair.]

Forgive me, I'm sorry, 'm so sorry-

[ He'll take shock over hysterics.

His chest rises and then heavily falls with a sigh. ]

... I don't know why you need to apologize. [ Rather, he DOES because it's in Lorna's nature but it doesn't mean he wants her to. He sets a hand atop her head and holds her there. ] This isn't your fault. They have been distributing a chemical... I'm not sure what it does but it turns you inside out like this.

Somehow. It's a thing of sin and now they are forcing it upon those they can catch with it. Despicable. Vile...

( IC INBOX / BUSINESS CARD )

July 11th - get rekt dad

what is with you people and setting his shit on fire

Well maybe stop buying flammable things Rohan

oh im sorry shit iS MADE OF WOOD

Snanax god fuckin bless

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