Post by Awaikage Kaede on Dec 17, 2013 10:14:17 GMT -5
| [atrb=cellpadding,10,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=width, 460, true][atrb=rules,none][atrb=valign,top][atrb=style, background-image: url(http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v303/WholeLottaChaos/asian-rice-paper_zps6ad0fe3b.jpg); -moz-border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; -o-border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; -webkit-border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border-radius: 20px 20px 20px 20px; border-bottom: #101010 solid 6px; border-right: #101010 solid 6px; border-left: #101010 solid 6px; border-top: #101010 solid 6px;][atrb=style,padding-top:10px;][atrb=align,center] The silent transition from dusk till the lavender eve was swift, swallowing the sky and tender lands below in a wash of black that stripped the warmth of the day bare. In the wake, a cold touch of spring evening had nestled in place, ushering stillness in abundance across the earth, save for the delicate breaths of silence that provided the divertimento of this idle nightfall. Fireflys provided the gentle luminance which the cloud covered moon was lax with, mixing the glows with soft neon and the sterling pristine touch from the glistening pearl within the sky. The nearby pond whispered cautiously to the emptiness, providing the chorus in the lullaby which all was drawn into perpetual harmony. The manor, one of modest luxury at best, was the only anomaly in the picture of genuine tranquility. For while the world was beckoned to slumber and peace, that of this estate owned by Takeda Hoturi, was livid and wild with celebration. Laughter joined the song and ectasy of cardinal pleasures manifested with wanton reservation and reckless abandon, married at the hip with the spilling of alcohol and rhythm less dance. The prostitutes twirled around the many men in raised spirits about the courtyard grounds, many, or rather the ones that weren't providing entertainment in the means of eye candy or games, indulged themselves with those of eager desires and gluttonous coin purses. The men, majority, if not all of samurai or martial status, were jolly in the atmosphere of the festivity, amusing themselves in the spectacle of sex, song, and satire. And beyond the outer walls, the inner walkways, through the several spans of rock gardens, dual courtyards, and the first layer of the interior manor, Takeda Hoturi was separated from the grand bulk of his elated guardsmen or the party he held for them. In the large expense of the private quarters, he lay on his bed within the dimlit chambers. A woman ontop of he as she whispered and purred images of desire with inviting lips and snaked across his body with the smooth strokes of the seductress she was. Yet, he seemed distant. Merely playing the part, affected only slightly not because of any conscious wish but only of the body's natural reaction in the circumstances of coupling. "Why so dispirited my lord?" the mistress finally sighed. "In a few days, this providence will all be yours and then all that is left are the minor vassals, yes?" Hoturi said nothing. "Darling, really? What's wrong? You've always been my favorite tonight is a real disappointment..." The lord of the manor stirred. "Masada Ijen was killed last night." "Oh? I'm sorry. He was a friend of yours right?" She offered a consoling look, applying deft, comforting kisses to his exposed neck. “I can't wait,” she continued to purr, “for us to be completely rid of those Rock dogs...” Hoturi said nothing at first, merely being placid as his mistress off choice provided all the comforts she could offer, his own sensuality deafened by the heavy thoughts that weighed on his mind. In the time that had passed, Taki had pushed back Iwa into small, scattered camps over the nation, nearly completely thwarting their underground Seige. But the leaders pushed for them to be resolute. Still, his fellows grew drunk with their assurance that the fighting was over...that Hidden Rock had finally been humbled. “I think it is far from over...” --- Meanwhile, a lone, bored, and frustrated patrol made his paces in deep dissatisfaction. While his brothers and fellows enjoyed ripe drink and fornication, he was stuck with filling in with basic watch, a punishment unbefitting the crime which he now couldn't even remember. A string of curses rolled over pursed lips while his pike dug into the earth with each step in rhythm of the disgruntled mutters and slanders of his lord's name. He gave a distant nod to the other unfortunate patrol way to the other side of the large grounds before he fell out of site in the heavy darkness. Naturally, this one would have offered sympathies for being in the same plight...but he questioned that others tastes-assuming he even did have a taste for women that is. But he wouldn't get a chance to ponder this more. For in his ill fortune, though likely fate, his story and thoughts would come to their inevitable conclusion. For the darkness of the nearby woodlands moved, the one he mistakenly got too close to without any regard to his surroundings. And when it reached out to him, he was plucked subtly from the face of the earth, where even the footsteps were filled with the falling gains and covered them once more. He disappeared without a sound into the woods. No screams, no sound of struggle, no evidence. And a pair of violet eyes pierced the blackness and stepped out from the woods. "That's one. You're up." |
