The (Un)Real World
Location: Tokyo | Tokyo Prefecture | Kanto
Time: Midday
Klaara picked at her bento idly,
"Lay off that Mr. Nguyen, it was a slip of the tongue, nothing more." She placed a clump of white rice into her mouth and chewed slowly,
"This isn't one of your high-school dramas, there's nothin' psychological about anything."
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Avatar Adventure
Location: Rising Dawn
Time: Night
A whisper in his heart radiated outwards, as if a single spark had lit ablaze an unstoppable inferno. Each unit caught this fire and turned about in writhing agony, to be consumed by this utter blackness, this darkness, this terror. The cold unflinching waves of change flowed through Black Heart.
What once was a formless beast now lay Puce and Kurumu on the bed with solid human hands, and gently disrobed his young red-headed master and cleaned each garment with care. He wiped the blood off of the leather and he polished the chainmail until it shone as bright as the silver moon. His body felt hot and warm inside, blood flowed through his veins.
It was without a thought that he borrowed the material of the ship and crafted himself something suitable to wear, to cover his nakedness, for he felt shame. With two strong, tanned, and well muscled arms he lifted Puce and Kurumu off of the bed and placed them on the adjacent side of the room, in two lounge chairs before taking a seat next to his young master.
She looked so peaceful, pale skin unblemished with scars, burns, or tattoos, soft and supple under his rough hewn hands. BlackHeart smiled to himself, looking over Kyre with blazing green eyes, almost alight in the darkness of the room.
"Young Master, I failed. I couldn't fix you after all." He turned Kyre so that she faced up and grimaced at her face. The scar across the bridge of her nose was bleeding, and the red blood stained the whiteness of her skin. She wasn't so old anymore, she was shorter, thinner, her muscles not as honed nor as well built. Her clothes lay folded to her side upon the bed. They would still fit her, he hoped.
"You lost seven years Master."
BlackHarte turned around and smoothed the collar on his crafted dress shirt. His body was strong. Broad shoulders and a great height, with muscles hidden underneath his olive skin, constantly being rewoven into better configurations by countless surviving nanites. He had long brown hair, just enough to drop down to his shoulders and over the hole upon his neck.
"Live a good life Master Cwanuld. When you awake you won't remember me, and I hope when we do meet. You will allow me to serve you," BlackHarte laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. The Heart of Darkness, the Shadowy Soul, the Creature of the Abyss sealed within the Stone of Darkness... was humanity. What a joke.
BlackHarte headed toward the Canteen. He felt hungry... what a bother.