- Invitation Status
- Not accepting invites at this time
- Posting Speed
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Primarily Prefer Male
"Oh, yes." His eyes twinkled with the same sense of teasing the miko had. "Such vicious dogs are dangerous to everyone who walks in the forest. You know, Hotaru, you should be careful if you leave the village these days." The god wasn't wrong after all, he was sure the hunters would be making their rounds often in these parts. An old lady like her wouldn't stand a chance if she was fired at or ran over by the stampeding buffoons, ambushed by these hunters out there in such hostile environments. Even though Nishibyakko was not absolutely convinced that Hotaru was completely innocent, as a villager in Ochibamura, he would feel something if she was killed by the men and women intended for him.
He wasn't one to argue with an old lady, and quietly took in the words she said. The frown on his face deepened at the mention of her lack of friends, not surprised with her reception in the village. Nishibyakko was surprised at first, but now the realization of how severe it must have been for the priestess dawned on him. As a child, a cub in the founding of the religion of Yamato when it was first established many years ago, he had others to play with. Suzaku, at the time a little chick, was whom he considered a friend at the time. A blue lizard playing with clouds and a shy onyx turtle that kept to himself. Then, the minor gods were created as more and more mortals came into existence, the god of the west always had company. A girl like Kiyoko who was treated like a witch from the underworld must have grew up alone.
The name of this 'Katsuo' perked his interest. The miko didn't talk much about her past, and she had no reason to. He wondered who this person was, and who they meant to his follower. Perhaps another miko that attended to the temple? Many other places had more than one miko, or even younger boys working as cooks or cleaners. A temple accepted everyone. Not that it mattered to him now, since he did not have many remaining.
He spent the rest of the day at the old lady's house surrounded by the aroma of herbs. The god found himself being ordered to do heavy lifting, which he begrudgingly followed. He wasn't one to take on other's commands, as he was a deity, someone whose orders were followed, not the other way around. Finding himself a little more forgiving and less cautious around Hotaru, he made himself comfortable in the corner he had made his home, watching the lessons unfold with mild interest, and never letting up a chance to show off his knowledge and wisdom, much to the chagrin of Kiyoko.
The two of them left as the sun was starting to set, the sky painted a gradient of oranges and reds. The villagers took refuge in their homes, hiding away from the approaching darkness. Farmers usually returned home during this time, and the few they passed by shot the priestess dirty looks as they walked past, though they said and did nothing at the presence of the tall and imposing cloaked figure that lingered behind her like a long shadow. The only possessions they had with them were a small box of herbs that the miko had took with her, and it was a light travel back towards the temple pass the barrier.
Nishibyakko sniggered at her, "Who is this Katsuo the old goat mentioned to me?" he asked curiously, but mockingly. "I wonder what sort of mother names their daughter or son after a tuna..." The god's eyes lit up at a thought, "Don't tell me it's a boy? Childhood crush? Puppy love?"
He wasn't one to argue with an old lady, and quietly took in the words she said. The frown on his face deepened at the mention of her lack of friends, not surprised with her reception in the village. Nishibyakko was surprised at first, but now the realization of how severe it must have been for the priestess dawned on him. As a child, a cub in the founding of the religion of Yamato when it was first established many years ago, he had others to play with. Suzaku, at the time a little chick, was whom he considered a friend at the time. A blue lizard playing with clouds and a shy onyx turtle that kept to himself. Then, the minor gods were created as more and more mortals came into existence, the god of the west always had company. A girl like Kiyoko who was treated like a witch from the underworld must have grew up alone.
The name of this 'Katsuo' perked his interest. The miko didn't talk much about her past, and she had no reason to. He wondered who this person was, and who they meant to his follower. Perhaps another miko that attended to the temple? Many other places had more than one miko, or even younger boys working as cooks or cleaners. A temple accepted everyone. Not that it mattered to him now, since he did not have many remaining.
He spent the rest of the day at the old lady's house surrounded by the aroma of herbs. The god found himself being ordered to do heavy lifting, which he begrudgingly followed. He wasn't one to take on other's commands, as he was a deity, someone whose orders were followed, not the other way around. Finding himself a little more forgiving and less cautious around Hotaru, he made himself comfortable in the corner he had made his home, watching the lessons unfold with mild interest, and never letting up a chance to show off his knowledge and wisdom, much to the chagrin of Kiyoko.
The two of them left as the sun was starting to set, the sky painted a gradient of oranges and reds. The villagers took refuge in their homes, hiding away from the approaching darkness. Farmers usually returned home during this time, and the few they passed by shot the priestess dirty looks as they walked past, though they said and did nothing at the presence of the tall and imposing cloaked figure that lingered behind her like a long shadow. The only possessions they had with them were a small box of herbs that the miko had took with her, and it was a light travel back towards the temple pass the barrier.
Nishibyakko sniggered at her, "Who is this Katsuo the old goat mentioned to me?" he asked curiously, but mockingly. "I wonder what sort of mother names their daughter or son after a tuna..." The god's eyes lit up at a thought, "Don't tell me it's a boy? Childhood crush? Puppy love?"