白い骨

K U C H I K I
B Y A K U Y A

the purest emperor
a heart of gold
a soul of platinum
he is la lune
the star of heaven
royal beauty bright

roleplay blog for the rokubantai-taichou from BLEACH.
est. 2012
as beloved by abigail.

白い沈黙

CURRENTLY: hiatus.

TIME ZONE: currently CEST.

vvulfric:

His face veneers, voice on the dead ebb
of a half-baked comedian, ’ Funny. ‘

The sense of a chest belted tight settles.
Jaw jutting to the side, Derek stays in the weight of it. 

Smells like chub burnt in carbon dust flakes, stripping dye through
the outer white he doubts is really there ( beyond a glimpse, beyond two ),
rooting everything from within.

image

   ’ Same goes to your presence. ‘

The Hales’ myths don’t cover.
Or rather — he doesn’t want them to.
Crosswords bursting labyrinthine, stories spat on paper with one
corner inked and its edge scribbled-down —-
                                       they all taper to one.

    HE COULD NOT REALLY GATHER WHY THE DOG SNIFFED SO BEGRUDGINGLY. The preference egregious in its obviousness: that they should both discontinue realization of the other and continue into their separate oblivions. The intoxicating assurance, presence, and overall existence of A DEATH GOD was arguably difficult to overcome (then again, the same could be said for the smell of death in their midst). Indeed, one such as a Hale should make friends with the SHINIGAMI (normally invisible, yet always by one’s side). DEATH IS ALWAYS WITH YOU, DO NOT BE AFRAID (and if men embraced such an ideal, they would not resort to hope so often). For every reaper knows that MEN HAVE HOPE, AS THEY CANNOT SEE DEATH BEHIND THEM.

image

“… Continue on.
  I shan’t stop you.”