themouthofhell: ([ ❀ ] lament)
Oichi ([personal profile] themouthofhell) wrote in [community profile] rakuen2011-01-02 10:30 pm

Courtyard [ open to all! ]

Oichi's wakening is from the chatter of people, the clatter of feet against the floor. It's a cruel awakening she thinks, when her dreams had been ever so warm, ever so kind. The waking world is far too cold. She shivers and rubs her hands along her arms, standing from the soft, strange thing she'd been laying on. It seems to be a futon of some sort, and she thinks it quaint. Strange.

The small torches along the walls are lit up, and she wanders out of the room. The doors are strange; the ceilings are strange; the walls themselves are strange. And she thinks it not so strange at all, that everything else is-- after all, she'd woken up somewhere different than she'd fallen asleep, been brought here as if by sorcery.

There's the faint memory of something being explained to her, of agreeing to something, but Oichi can't recall it properly. It must have been a dream.

Wandering down the hall and out the back, she explores this strange place she's found herself in.

It's a pretty place, a pretty picturesque fairytale land she never even could have imagined-- the buildings stand in a way she's never seen, the flowers are new and bright and colorful and the people are of all sorts. In the courtyard, Oichi kneels before a flowerbed, picking one of every color, every kind.

"On and on the road does go," she sings, voice high and airy, loud in the stillness of the courtyard. "Down into the depths below…"
tenwholeryou: (you are making no sense at all)

[personal profile] tenwholeryou 2011-01-04 12:11 am (UTC)(link)
Kotarou had been dozing off against one of the slim, meticulously-pruned trees in the middle of the flowerbed, waking occasionally to check the time or more abruptly if someone made any degree of noise passing by. It had been a good plan, he thought. It was open, sunny, and had any number of bolt-holes. And it was within earshot of Dave if he needed help from the older boy. Classes were out; he'd tried to poke his head into one on the prompting of one of the women in the first hall, and hadn't understood a word their teacher was saying. Although he was assured that this only happened in mathematics, he remained intensely suspicious. Hiding out in the flowerbeds it was.

Until someone else wandered into them, that was. He perked up at the song, and scrambled up and onto his knees so he could peer around the trunk of his tree.

"What're you singing?"
siscon: (( 04 ))

[personal profile] siscon 2011-01-05 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ FACE PLANT INTO THE GROUND NEARBY ]