- Username;; rainichi
Deer Name;; misa
Art/Writing;;
- like an old memory, recovered from the dust and beginning to dance in front of the mind’s eye. a wistful feeling, like she's anywhere else. a scent that carries strange nostalgia, that whisks them into a time passed.
well, many things bring misa to remember old events, old conversations, old feelings. but there’s something to the smell of a book that brings misa to recall only the best of times. perhaps the reason isn’t all that mysterious- her father, an avid librarian, always finding new and unusual stories to bring home to misa. every night she’d hear another, just before falling asleep.
she had her favorites though, specific tales that she made her dad read her over and over and over again, countless times and still she’d never grow tired of them. maybe they would have grown boring, if her dad hadn’t been there to act them out and put such life into them.
now, she hadn’t heard one of his infamous reenactments in a while.
even so, his voice so clearly rang in misa’s head, and whenever she flipped open a book its words sang to her. she liked to try to put on voices like he used to. she liked to imagine the scenes just as she did when she was little. so vivid and real, like she was almost there.
but the smell of a book, or even the story within, that’s not specifically the part that misa enjoys the most. it’s not even quite the book, really, or the memories. actually, it could be a combination of those things, but more so, it’s the act of collecting stories. traveling from town to town, land to land, receiving both tales old and new.
in the form of a book, of course, or an ancient scroll, or even local folklore that’s never been committed to paper. misa collects a story in any form, and then she’ll be off to find the next. she’ll share the stories she’s heard or read to children she passes by, or if she ever finds herself with too many books, she’ll pass them onto the nearest library. though, most of the books- or otherwise- that come into her possession ultimately end up in the care of one library in particular:
the one her dad used to own, so he’ll never run out of stories to tell no matter where he is.
[398/400]
