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|Subject: contemplation of cute things [Private/Training] Sat Jul 08, 2017 5:41 am|| |
'It's funny,' the saturated Blacksmith idled to himself as he took one step in front of the other in search of salvation. The family function he had been attending quickly disppitated as quickly as the good weather had. With cheery disposition and adequately few clouds, the morning's promise had been one of an idyllic spring day. Bright and burning with energy, it had been like an infectious fever. Whereas normally lethargy and inertia flourished in the youngest of the Heureux tribe he found the beckoning day too perfect to resist. 'Funny at how readily a day sours at the drop of a hat.' He bemused to himself, the ticklish sensation of raindrops frantically slipping and sliding down the curve of his nap and disappearing into his clothing where the individual droplet spread out as an ugly besmirching mark against otherwise perfectly serviceable cloth. On its lonesome, this fierce little warrior posed no threat beyond a minor inconvenience to the colbalt collared linen shirt Inari wore. It bore no design worth mentioning save the logo of its merchandising brand on the cuff of his left sleeve. An insignia now hidden from view as the sheath of cloth had since been rolled up, exposing skin and bone to the rain but hopefully preserving the cloth from the rapidly increasing dampness. His normally unruly alabaster hair lay, defeated by elemental fury as Inari moved from tree to tree, counting the seconds between the abrupt wraith-like apparitions of the tempest; lightning streaking across the sky before the resounding applause of the heavens echoed out at the display.
The Blacksmith found himself in no position today to appreciate the display of mother nature at her most disreputable and instead preferred to attempt to find some form of shelter. However the thick sheets of rain provided ample camouflage that little else could be seen outside of the dim outlines of the world. Trees appeared tall and grey, giants stripped of their colour and welcome. The ground was transformed, little more than a sorry excuse for a swamp, the torrential floods and consumed what there was of dry verdant green. Tufts of grass could be seen here or there between rippling sordid reflections of the outside world. It was through one of these that Inari caught a hazy impression of himself, clothes darkened and hair plastered like an primary schooler's art project gone wrong. His fell orbs glowered back at him, defiant despite the oppressive weather and he soldiered on, having little taste to ogle his appearance.
Coming to a rest outside something of a kiosk Inari fumbled a hand inside a damp pocket and withdrew some change, credits clenched between numb fingers and gently sidled up to the vending machine. Dumping the currency into the machine he selected the hot chocolate icon, steam wafting from the miniature ceramic design with the letters H. C. imprinted next to it. As he waited, fingers trembling in anticipation for the drink his ears fancied that they picked out some disturbance in the heavy downpour but made no attempt to further investigate the phenomena. After all, who else would have the misfortune to be caught in such horrendous weather.