[CorruptedSong]

mark with a creature that guides newborn kalons spirits into the world--
the split tail represents the growth/splitting of cells to form something wonderful- life.
The halo/glow acts as a torch to guide those in the dark.
They seem really scary but are actually really friendly and sweet? They care a lot about the spirits they help and are a massive softie.
lets hope I have time to do this?? ;-;

[skorch]

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Rain cascades down Kawamura's fur, her paw pads wet with melted snow,
enjoying the almost calming atmosphere of slow winds using her hair as a sail flag,
unwinding the ivory coloured, pearly locks of hair that was loosely knotted into a
bun, the shape of a waterlily, her whiskers twitching in anticipation, and her intact
tail freely waving where the air current took it. She bent to her knees by the clear
river, her kimono resting on her frame as she pulled a bucket carved from wood close
to her, scooping water, cupped in her hands, sipping from the river, trees above her
head whispering slightly as they swayed in tune to the earth around them. It was a
legend in her village that the water held essence, one of deep cleansing. Undoing the
latch of her cowhide bracelet, with a simple charm of silver entwined in the middle, r
eading '村,' or otherwise, 'Mura.' She had made it herself, worn over time, the shiny
coating was marred, handcrafted to represent her dedication to her village. Her feet
dipping into the untainted river, cold as they were, and the drops from the sky bouncing
off her fur in the most satisfying motion, creating smoke, smoke from the water.
It might as well have been freezing, but she laid there, a warm feeling in her heart.
Then, it all felt blurry as she woke up in a daze. The lakes had been warmed up by the
rising stars, the one who marks morning. She'd spent her whole night there, drifting in the river,
but, fortunate for her, kimono's thin fabric caught on a stick and she hadn't moved at all,
giving Mura minutes to catch her breath, one who seemed to have wandered, far away,
and give a prayer to her gods for her fortuitous luck, all the while scrambling back to the
muddy flat where she had left her oak pail.

┌─────────────────┐

name - kawamura (ka•wa•mu•ra)doulovmie
dmeans ‘river village’ - japanese

└─────────────────┘

┌─────────────────┐

art credit: skorchdoulovmovmovie
iwinner can keep

└─────────────────┘

[mango marmalade,,]

you don't know me. you only know half of me, the half that is awake. the other half of me is sleepy and still taking a break.
but soon the other half of me will wake, and when it does.
you'd better run.
better run.

"subjects name?"
-037 [tamashi kishin]
"result?"
-failure.
"okay, begin."

i don't know myself, at least i don't think i do. everyday i wake up in a different body, even though it looks the same. i have mood swings that switch off everyday, from curious to serious and back again. i don't know my thoughts when i wake up, and don't know the feelings on my fingertips. i wake up in different clothes everyday, even though i clearly remember what i put on last night.
or at least, two nights ago.
what's wrong with me?

"can this experiment be replicated?"
-no.
"why is this a failure?"
-complete merging was not reached.
"continue."

i hate everyone here. they stare at me, and then write notes on their tiny little notepads. they think they're so smart for torturing an animal and forcing it to do things. well, i'm sick of it. tomorrow i'll break out of here. i swear i will. they won't be able to stop me, not while i'm me. maybe this will be the day i don't switch.

"keep going. but switch again."

i woke up today with my fingernails gone. they had been bitten off by me, i guess. there was also writing on the walls.
a floor plan? am i planning to break out? but i am weak. they will catch me. i'd better tell them what i plan to do.

"switch."

i hate myself. i told them what i was going to do. now i have to get the floor plan of the second floor. but this time, i'll just keep it in memory. then i won't be able to find it. even i can't remember what i was thinking yesterday, not unless i try really hard.
it hurts my head to do so though.

[䏠xote]

credit for flower images

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┌────────────────────────┐

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"the gremlin and the ogre"
come close, listener, and hear me well, for the tale i shall
weave to you today is one that has been passed down for
many generations.

once long ago, when the land was wild and beasts of myth
roamed the earth, there lived a kalon at the edges of the
village. he was owned by no one, and had no name, a stray
that belonged neither to the wilds nor the village. he was a
creature of mischief, a being that tormented and pestered
those who dwelled in the village relentlessly. he frightened
their horses, and stole their things with his greedy little
paws, in order to make a shiny nest. for years, the villagers
tried to catch him, but had little success in their ventures.

one day, however, the villagers decided that they had an
idea. in the mountains to the east, there was a rumor that
endless gold and jewels had been hidden. an ogre inhabited
winding caves there, and few who entered ever returned.
"this is how we'll get rid of that gremlin." they decided.
the very next day, the villagers waited until the gremlin
made his way out into the fields to cause chaos. when they
caught sight of him, they pretended not to know that he
was there, and talked loudly of the treasure locked away.
the gremlin's interest was easily piqued. "i must have that
gold," he decided, and rushed off to the mountains so that
he might reach it before the villagers. they did not follow,
however, and sighed in relief as they saw his tail disappear
through the grass.

it did not take the gremlin long to find the mountain caves,
and it took him even less time to worm himself through
the small opening in the rocks. (for you see, gremlins are
masters of getting into places where no one wants them to
be.) up the stony path he went, until he reached the room
filled with more glittering gold and jewels than he could
have ever imagined. without a hesitation, he leapt forward
to scrape as many coins and jewels as he could into his
paws. "how wonderful!" he cried, cackling with glee.

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┌────────────────────────────────────────┐

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however, in his hurry the gremlin did not notice the ogre that crept up behind him. with one deft move-
-ment, the beast snatched him up into its big, meaty claws by the tail, and he shrieked in terror.

"HOW DARE YOU TRESPASS HERE!" the ogre roared. it turned and began to stomp its way into another
cave, where a bubbling pot sat over a fire, waiting for ingredients. "I'll teach you a lesson you'll never
forget, you filthy gremlin!"

the kalon cried out, desperate as he was held over the boiling water. "wait!" he screeched, and the
ogre snorted, bringing him close to its face.

"you beg for your life, tiny thief, but i am going to eat you, bones, fur and all."

"that's all fine and well, mighty ogre, but eating me now would be a shame. gremlin meat is tough and
bland--if you wish to eat me, you first need to add butter to the pot, or you simply won't be able to
enjoy me!" returned the kalon, for though he was shaking, he was witty, and he had hatched an idea.

the ogre was pleased by the flattery, and decided that the kalon was right.

"alright," the orge snarled, and turned, grabbing a slab of butter with one bare hand, then plopping it
into the pot. "now in you go, gremlin!"

"hold on! i said tough and bland!" cried the kalon. "you'll need seasonings, or you won't be able to
eat like the king you are! rosemary, salt, and garlic should do well."

the ogre seemed suspicious, but decided that the gremlin was correct once more. "yes, a king should eat
like one!" hurriedly, he turned to gather the ingredients, but his buttery fingers could barely hold them.
as he struggled, the gremlin wiggled free with a cry of triumph.

the mountain shook as the ogre roared with rage, trying to catch the gremlin once more. however, the
kalon slipped through its oily hands, cackling all the while.

"you tricked me!" screamed the ogre.

"and you believed me!" the kalon gloated.

now, the gremlin should have scurried off right away, but he was too prideful not to boast. the angry
ogre snatched up his axe, and brought it down right on the creature's tail, splitting it in two.

the gremlin squeaked in pain, and darted off right away--he had learned his lesson!

the villagers never saw him again, but to this day, if you find yourself wandering into the fields at night,
you might just see three wisps of fairy fire, and hear the laughter of the gremlin as he dances with the
fireflies.

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└────────────────────────────────────────┘

[Caeleesi]

闇夜 Yamiyo "dark night"

┌──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┐

~It's said that a large black feline with two tails dwells in the mountains. Flames cloak her body, her eyes gleam gold, and anyone who comes into contact with her is never seen again. It's said that to peer into the eyes of this feline is a curse, and any sins you have committed are returned tenfold. Known commonly as Seigi no kyūsai-sha, or "deliverer of justice", this feline is also called a Rīpā "reaper", due to her apparent hand in death.~

The fire burned brightly in the surrounding darkness, the flames flickering, light dancing along the blackened floor. A large figure resembling a wild cat was seated in front of the fire, two tails that seemed to be bathed in flame occasionally twitching. Shock hit with the realization that the flame was not, in fact, in front of the figure- but rather resting on their head.

"Will you listen to my story?"

The figure turned its head, eyes glowing in the dim light- Her voice was rather calming, flowing like molten lava into the ears of those who dared approach and listen to what she had to say. Feeling drawn to the gleam of her eyes, her voice lured you closer and you seated yourself a little bit away. A small smile seemed to pull at the creature's lips, large claws scraping against the ground as she turned her head to face you, sad eyes staring through you.

"When I was young, I was like all the other kalons you see around, but... I wasn't happy with how I looked. I was plain coloured, simply black with golden eyes that gleamed like a flame. Sure, some people loved the way I looked, but I felt...boring in comparison to the rest of them, with their pattern covered bodies, and multi-coloured eyes."

She let out a deep sigh, regret showing in those gleaming eyes of hers, her mouth now turned down in a small frown.

"Well, I decided to change myself. I went for a walk up into the mountains, because I heard that there was a witch up there that could completely change your appearance. Of course, I thought that I wouldn't have to pay a price- isn't that the way it always goes?"

A small grumble seemed to reverberate inside the kalons chest- a chuckle, maybe? She seemed mildly amused about the situation.

"So I went up the mountain to the witch, and I made a deal with her. She confirmed that she could indeed change me in whichever way I liked, but I didn't exactly specify anything. I kind of just said that I'd like to have a more... 'complicated' pattern on my body... Well, apparently the witch decided that my payment was paid by completely changing me instead. As I drank the potion I was given, my eyesight went blurry and I felt a sharp pain from my tail and front paws.

I passed out shortly after, and when I awoke I seemed to have become a completely different creature. My tail was split in half but miraculously healed, claws the size of a leopards' jutting out in front of me. Now my sight is constantly being obstructed by the flickering from this- glowing flame thing on my head. It's rather annoying- but I suppose in the end I did get my wish. I'm not as 'boring' as I was previously, and I rather like the pattern on my body now, but... I'm frightened that the other kalons won't accept me anymore. I know there are some pretty crazy variations in us, but I still feel as though I'm going to be judged for the choices I made to get to this point. I sort of regret making them."

She tilted her head to peer at you, and you found yourself wondering if the world was constantly a shifting shade of colour for her. You decided to work up the courage to ask what her name was, your curiosity perked by this strange, but possibly harmless? creature. You were sure she could inflict damage if she so decided to, but you didn't think she would do so without good reason.
"What's your name?" You stuttered out, shuffling back a little when her ears perked up in what you assumed was surprise.

"Nobody has ever, uhm... asked me that before. I was probably too dull and conserved to draw attention to myself... Ah, yes- my name! My name is Yamiyo. It translates roughly to 'dark night', rather suiting for a black kalon like myself, right? It's nice to meet you."

You'd smile back at the kalon, a little more comfortable now that you knew her name.
As you left the area, you discovered yourself happy. Perhaps because you knew her real story? Who knew.
[800/800]

└──────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────┘

[olivionary]

He was the one who told the world my story. He was the only one who shared the truth, my truth.

Kukiko
The following fictional excerpts have been taken from 'The Journal of Charles Washington'.

The dim light of candles lead up the carved staircase from the softly glowing village up towards the tall mountains lining the deep plum-coloured sky. The local people claimed that among those mountains lived "a creature of many eyes and flame", while the travellers from my ship stated that they had likely seen the shadow of a creature with "Nekomata disease", otherwise known as Rabies. The creature has been seen "violently jerking it's head as it walks amongst the rocks, dragging it's leg as it scales the cliff faces". The lights that mark the path to the village are said to guide the Nekomata to the offerings of food that the villagers provide.
-----
Having spoken to many of the natives, I have

found that this creature is called 'Kukiko', which from my understanding, means 'Snow Child'. Tonight myself and my companions shall be trekking up towards where the villager's claim that she lives in the hope that we will catch of glimpse of her shadow. The villagers have warned us that she may be dangerous. I shall take my gun.
-----
I will begin by mentioning that I did not need my gun. Kukiko saw us and left with such elegance, as if she was an apparition floating above the ground until she suddenly swung her head to the left. She quickly regained her composure and vanished into the night. The locals were shocked to see us return, having reminded us on multiple occasions that those who ventured into the mountains rarely returned. Personally, I believe that to be due to their inability to navigate the cliffs without appropriate equipment.

Whilst we were in Kukiko's presence, I noticed that her tail was split, resulting in a 'y' shape and two glowing flame shines. I had the opportunity to speak to a village elder and inquire about Kukiko's legend.

She told me that long ago Kukiko was a "Guardian of Winter", bringing it forth from Autumn and releasing it for the Spring. "No one likes winter" since the crops do not grow and the houses can not keep out the cold, thus Kukiko was an under appreciated Guardian whose sadness, hatred and fear of being forgotten festered. This led to the Guardian attempting to stop the Spring from returning to the lands through an attempt at removing the mystical powers of the Spring Guardian, whose name I did not catch. A battle ensued, the weather fluctuated for days as this took place: avalanches fell from the mountains one day, floods flowed through the streets the next only to be followed by the sun beating down to turn the crops to wilting crisps.

The battle ended when a jagged boulder fell upon the Guardian's tail, splitting the tip into two. Her markings glowed, her abilities and position as a Guardian now lost. The elder said that it is unknown how the boulder fell, but it is believed that Summer and Autumn came together to push it from the cliff. I was told that Kukiko's tail was what held her power to control the Winter. Her betrayal of a pact that was carved into the steps up to the mountain led her to be banished into the small nooks of the cliffs in a mortal land, forced to watch as seasons pass and the world decays around her. I understand why they may fear this creature for she wanted to suspend them in an eternal winter where they suffer and struggle to survive, yet I can see that Kukiko is not the beast that some believe her to be. She appears very 'human': she simply longed to be appreciated and wanted by the people that she helped to care for.
-----
We leave for home tomorrow. The Elder that told me of Kukiko's legend approached me again today. She told me that she feared that I would present Kukiko to the world as solely an evil creature. I won't. We sat down on the steps up to the mountain where she told me a story from her childhood. A boy had gone missing in the mountains while chasing an escaped goat. No one went to look for him from fear of Kukiko and the family began mourning that night. The next morning the boy returned with her at his side, he clung onto her white locks, gripping tightly as the creature returned the child safely to his family. As she relayed the story, the elder traced the text written into the rock beneath us: Kukiko's promise to protect them.

[ghostmaker]

maRK !

[∘Raven∘]

Mark

[teddy.]

υѕєяиαмє;
тє∂∂у.

иαмє;
αρσℓℓσ
gєи∂єя;
мαℓє
gєи∂єя fσя вяєє∂ιиg;
мαℓє
ѕтσяу σf нσω нє ѕρℓιт нιѕ тαιℓ;

"αℓяιgнт, αℓяιgнт. ѕєттℓє ∂σωи! иσω, ωнαт ѕтσяу ωσυℓ∂ уσυ ℓιкє тσ нєαя тσиιgнт? ... тнαт σиє αgαιи? ι'νє тσℓ∂ уσυ нιѕ ѕтσяу ℓιкє, α мιℓℓισи тιмєѕ! .. αℓяιgнт! αℓяιgнт! уσυ ωιи, ι'ℓℓ тєℓℓ ιт, ѕσ ѕєттℓє ∂σωи иσω."
" иσω тнєи, ωнєяє ∂ι∂ ωє ℓєανє σff ℓαѕт тιмє... αн, тнαт'ѕ яιgнт! ωнαт α ρяє∂ι¢αмєит αρσℓℓσ нαѕ ℓαи∂є∂ нιмѕєℓf ιи тнιѕ тιмє. нє'ѕ υѕυαℓℓу α gσσ∂ кαℓσи, тнσυgн нє ѕєємѕ тσ αттяα¢т αℓℓ ѕσятѕ σf мιѕ¢нιєf ѕσ мαиу ρєσρℓє αяσυи∂ тσωи ѕєє нιм αѕ иσтнιиg вυт α тяσυвℓємαкєя."
"тнιѕ тιмє нє σνєянєαя∂ ѕσмєтнιиg тнαт ѕσυи∂є∂ ѕυѕρι¢ισυѕℓу ℓιкє ιℓℓєgαℓ вєнανισя, ѕσ нє ∂υ¢кє∂ нιѕ нєα∂ ιитσ тнє αвαи∂σиє∂ ωαяєнσυѕє тσ gєт α ℓιттℓє ρєєк. нє ∂ι∂и'т ѕєє αиутнιиg αи∂ ιт ωαѕ ѕтαятιиg тσ ∂яιzzℓє, ѕσ нє ∂υ¢кє∂ fυℓℓу ιитσ тнє ωαяєнσυѕє, ѕнαкιиg тιиу ωαтєя ∂яσρℓєтѕ fяσм нιѕ ѕιℓку вℓα¢к ¢σαт. ιт ωαѕ тнєи нє fєℓт єуєѕ σи нιм, вσяιиg ιитσ нιм fяσм αℓℓ ѕι∂єѕ. нє ωнιρρє∂ αяσυи∂ αи∂ ѕαω иσтнιиg, вυт нє ѕтιℓℓ fєℓт υиєαѕу. нє ωαѕи'т αℓσиє ιи нєяє, нє ωαѕ ѕυяє σf ιт. яαιи вαттєяє∂ тнє тιи яσσf σf тнє ωαяєнσυѕє, ρι¢кιиg υρ тσ α ∂єαfєиιиg яσαя. ιт ωαѕ ∂ιм ιи нєяє, вυт fℓαѕнєѕ σf ℓιgнтиιиg яєνєαℓє∂ нυgє ѕнα∂σωѕ ℓιкє мσиѕтєяѕ σи тнє ωαℓℓѕ, ℓєαиιиg ιи αѕ ιf αвσυт тσ ρσυи¢є. fιиαℓℓу, нє gσт тнє gυтѕ тσ уєℓℓ συт."
"'ω-ωнσ'ѕ тнєяє?!' ιт ¢αмє συт α ℓσт ℓєѕѕ ¢σσℓ тнαи нє ωαитє∂ ιт тσ. тнєяє ωαѕ α ¢ℓαиg ιи тнє ωαяєнσυѕє иєαя нιм αи∂ нє ωнιρρє∂ αяσυи∂, нєαят ρσυи∂ιиg ѕσ нαя∂ ιи нιѕ ¢нєѕт нє тнσυgнт нє мιgнт єχρℓσ∂є, αи∂ ∂ι∂ α ∂συвℓє тαкє. α мιяяσя. ιт нα∂ тσ вє α мιяяσя. вυт ιт ωαѕи'т, тнє ι∂єитι¢αℓ кαℓσи ιи fяσит σf нιм ωαѕ νєяу мυ¢н нιѕ σωи кαℓσи, αи∂ ωαѕ ѕтαяιиg нιм υρ αи∂ ∂σωи ωιтн α ѕ¢яυтιиιzιиg єує."
"'ω-ωнσ.. αяє уσυ?' αρσℓℓσ αѕкє∂ qυιєтℓу, нιѕ вяєαтн вιℓℓσωιиg ιи тнє ¢нιℓℓє∂ αιя. συтѕι∂є тнє яαιи ωαѕ ѕℓσωιиg α вιт, ιт'ѕ ριттєя-ραттєяιиg є¢нσιиg тняσυgнσυт тнє ωαяєнσυѕє. тнє ѕтяαиgє кαℓσи ¢ιя¢ℓє∂ αяσυи∂ нιм αи∂ нє ∂ι∂ тнє ѕαмє, иσт ωιℓℓιиg тσ ℓєт нιм συт σf ѕιgнт qυιтє уєт.
"ι'м уσυ, σf ¢συяѕє." тнє σтнєя αρσℓℓσ ѕиєєяє∂, ℓιfтιиg нιѕ иσѕє αи∂ ρυffιиg συт нιѕ ¢нєѕт. αρσℓℓσ тσσк α ѕтєρ вα¢к, ωαяу.
"ωнαт ∂σ уσυ мєαи? αи∂ ωнαт ∂σ уσυ ωαит fяσм мє?" αρσℓℓσ ѕαι∂ ιи α ѕнαку νσι¢є, иσт ѕυяє нє ωαитє∂ тнє αиѕωєя. тнє σтнєя кαℓσи ѕιмρℓу ѕмιℓє∂ иєfαяισυѕℓу.
"ι'м α кαℓσи נυѕт ℓιкє уσυ! ι'νє ℓινє∂ ιи тнιѕ тσωи яιgнт υи∂єя уσυя иσѕє fσя уєαяѕ. ¢αυѕιиg тяσυвℓє αи∂ ℓєттιиg уσυ тαкє тнє вℓαмє. вυт fσℓкѕ αяє ѕтαятιиg тσ ¢αт¢н σи, ѕσ ι вяσυgнт уσυ нєяє тσ fιиιѕн уσυ σff αи∂ тαкє уσυя ρℓα¢є ιи тнιѕ ωяєт¢нє∂ тσωи." тнє σтнєя αρσℓℓσ ѕρσкє ωιтн нυgє ¢σиfι∂єи¢є, нιѕ ρℓαи ѕєємιиgℓу gσιиg ωєℓℓ. αρσℓℓσ ѕqυαяє∂ нιѕ ѕнσυℓ∂єяѕ,
"тнαт'ѕ α ρяєтту gσσ∂ ρℓαи! ι'м ѕυяρяιѕє∂ уσυ ωєяє αвℓє тσ кєєρ ιт gσιиg тнιѕ ℓσиg. вυт уσυ fσяgσт тσ ρℓαи fσя σиє тнιиg.." αρσℓℓσ ѕαι∂ ιи α ℓσυ∂ νσι¢є, тяуιиg тσ α¢т נυѕт αѕ ¢σиfι∂єит αѕ тнє σтнєя. нιѕ νσι¢є ѕнσσк ωιтн єνєяу ωσя∂ αи∂ нιѕ ѕнσυℓ∂єяѕ тяємвℓє∂, яєνєαℓιиg нιѕ fєαя. σтнєя αρσℓℓσ נυѕт ѕиєєяє∂ αgαιи, нιѕ fα¢є α мαѕк σf ∂ιѕgυѕт.
"αи∂ ωнαт'ѕ тнαт?" нє мσ¢кѕ, тαιℓ ℓαѕнιиg ιи αитι¢ιραтισи. αρσℓℓσ ρυтѕ σи α вяανє ѕмιℓє, вяα¢ιиg нιмѕєℓf. нιѕ нєαят ωαѕ ρσυи∂ιиg ѕσ нαя∂ αи∂ ℓσυ∂, нє ωαѕ ¢єятαιи тнє ωнσℓє тσωи ¢συℓ∂ нєαя ιт. ιт fєℓт ℓιкє ιт ωαитє∂ тσ вυяѕт συт σf нιѕ ¢нєѕт αи∂ яυи αωαу.
"уσυ ∂ι∂и'т єχρє¢т мє тσ fιgнт вα¢к!" нє ℓυиgє∂ αт тнє σтнєя, тαкιиg нιм ∂σωи ιи α тα¢кℓє. тнє ∂αяк ωαяєнσυѕє вє¢αмє α ωнιяℓωιи∂ σf тнєιя вαттℓє, αℓℓ тнαт ¢συℓ∂ вє нєαя∂ ωαѕ тнє ρσυи∂ιиg σf тнє яαιи αѕ ιт ρι¢кє∂ вα¢к υρ αи∂ тнєιя нσяяιвℓє ѕиαяℓιиg. тнєу ωяєѕтℓє∂ fσя ωнαт ѕєємє∂ ℓιкє нσυяѕ, fℓιρριиg σνєя αи∂ σνєя. σиє ωσυℓ∂ вє σи тσρ fσя α ωнιℓє αи∂ ιт ωσυℓ∂ ѕєєм ℓιкє нє ωσυℓ∂ ωιи, вυт נυѕт αѕ тнє тнσυgнт ¢αмє тσ мιи∂ тнє σтнєя ωσυℓ∂ fℓιρ нιм σитσ нιѕ вα¢к. тнєу вιт αи∂ ¢ℓαωє∂ αи∂ нιѕѕє∂ αи∂ ѕиαяℓє∂, тυяиιиg σνєя αи∂ σνєя ιи тнєιя fяєиzιє∂ вαттℓє. αи∂ ωнєи тнє ∂υѕт ¢ℓєαяє∂, α fℓαѕн σf ℓιgнтиιиg ѕнє∂ ℓιgнт α¢яσѕѕ тнє fα¢є σf α ѕιиgℓє кαℓσи, нιѕ тєєтн вℓσσ∂ιє∂ αи∂ ¢σνєяѕ ιи ѕ¢яαт¢нєѕ, вяєαтнιиg нєανιℓу. нιѕ тαιℓ ωαѕ ѕρℓιт αт тнє єи∂ ιитσ тωσ-ρяσиgѕ αи∂ нє fєℓт α нєανу вυя∂єи σи нιѕ ¢нєѕт. тωσ ρєяѕσиαℓιтιєѕ, ѕнσνє∂ єχρєятℓу ιитσ σиє вσ∂у. нє ωαѕ мιѕ¢нιєνσυѕ вυт кιи∂, яσω∂у вυт ¢αℓм, αи∂ νєяу, νєяу тιяє∂.
αfтєя тнαт, тнє тσωиѕfσℓк ∂ι∂и'т ѕєє αρσℓℓσ αgαιи. тнєу ѕαу нє яαи σff ѕσмєωнєяє αℓσиє. αѕ fσя мє? ωєℓℓ, ι нєαя нє'ѕ ѕтιℓℓ тєℓℓιиg ѕтσяιєѕ тσ gυℓℓιвℓє кι∂ѕ αвσυт нσω нιѕ тαιℓ ѕρℓιт!"

[76heart]

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甘 い ダ ー ク ワ ン
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After the first few visits, it was not long before the
man started to call her, "Amai Dākuwan", meaning
'sweet dark one' in Japanese.
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Amai is indeed a female as well, but it is not a fact
that any wandering story teller would care to know,
or a detail most would care for. She is simply a
another monster in another tale to them, a beast
to get pesky children to sleep, why would they give
her the luxury of that?
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information I used on nekomatas + inspiration
part two of the first article
more information
bakeneko
broken arch ref
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this story is largely based on the one story of a
benevolent bakeneko, and the fact nekomata's
traditionally live in mountains and are always vicious.
I also had to cut it down so many time so it's lost a
lot of value to it and I'm sorry ahhh
it went from 1308 words, to 1176, and then to 835
if I removed the italics at the beginning
I'm also a few minutes late so ffffffff I hope this still
counts since I have worked hard and fallen in love
with it
also pretend she got the fluff while being trapped
inside since it's not in the drawing
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Once upon a time, a great many years ago, in an ancient mountain of great height,
hidden in between a space of tall jagged rocks, in a stretch of lush swaying grass
and soft green moss, there was once a most glorious temple.
Where that temple once stood, there was now only crumbling gray stones, and
broken lengths of wood painted in vibrant colors that had long since faded with age
and bleaching from the sun.
Where there had once been fertile soil, untouched by cruelty with soil warmed by
the sun, there was now only cracked, wounded earth, tainted by sorrow now
intrinsic with the land.
Where there was once a temple of great importance and prosperity, there was now
nothing but a feared monster's prison, sat upon a forbidden land, surrounded in
darkness, and all alone.

xxxIt had all begun with a young Kalon many years ago, either blessed or cursed with a tail of great length, living alone in the mountains, their fur as black as the darkest night, climbing the steep crags, and learning to survive at a very young age. One day, as they climbed a particularly rough part of the mountain, with the pads of their paws cracked and aching, they stumbled upon a path. Curious, but wary, they continued down it, their steps quiet and careful, their form hunched low, and their tail cautiously testing the air. After following it for awhile, their mouth slightly ajar to better catch a scent, they came upon a colorful temple, with bright reds and blues leaping from the beautiful architecture. A young man sat outside in silence on his knees, seeming to be deep in thought, and warily, the kalon began to approach. If he heard their quiet paw steps, he made no indication. When they drew closer, and began to peer at the man, he then turned, and held out his hand, a smile upon his friendly face. Slowly, they came forward to sniff the man's hand, and then looked up at him, searching his face. His hand came toward their shoulders, and gently left a soft stroke down their back. They bristled at first, and began to crouch down and back away, but the man spoke softly; his voice sounding of rough gravel, but soothing and reassuring all the same, and gently gave them another tentative pet, carefully continuing the movement while kalon began to lean into his touch, and gently rubbed their head against his hand. They had never felt such kindness before, such comfort, and after leaving for the night, they returned the next day, where they received more pets, and then water and food. They continued visit the temple everyday from then on, until they began to change, and the visits grew sparse. There was a point where the visits briefly picked up again as often as they had been before, until once again they faded into nothing, and it was a great many years before the kalon went to visit again; when they had become what many would call a nekomata, however, unlike most nekomata who sought to torment and kill, this one remembered the kindness of one human, a man with kind eyes, a man they wanted to see again. They longed for the company of their friend, the one human who had never shied away, for he had always shown them nothing but kindness, even with his face worn with age, and his hands too sore to move. When they arrived however, after walking the path they knew so well, it did not feel the same. There were more present, more men in armor with swords, and no face of the kind man to be seen. It had changed. All that looked the same was the temple itself, and a rusted metal bowl devoid of food sitting outside; the bowl the kind man had once used to give them water, and instantly they new something was wrong. The man was gone, and something told them that they would never come back. The man that, even after it had become a bakeneko, a creature most often feared, had still shown them kindness, his eyes continuing to hold nothing but the warmth they always did, was gone. With that knowledge, something within them rapidly began to break, and crumble into pieces that could not ever be put back into place again, and before they knew it, all the temptation and desire, and all the chaotic nature deeply engraved into their bones began to come out, and before anyone, including themselves could do anything, a flame had left them, and the temple was now ablaze. They leapt viciously at anything that moved in a blind, heartbroken fury, killing them quickly, and soon found themselves inside the temple, the walls and roof crumbling around them, with only one human remaining. In their hand was a sacred scroll they had gone back in to retrieve, and a sword in the other. The nekomata leapt at the samurai, but missed as he dodged out of the way, and instead crashed into the wall by the door, causing a heavy piece made unstable by the inferno begin to fall, and the solider realized that now was their only chance to get out. They began to dash for the door, and as the slightly shaken and disoriented nekomata gave one final leap toward them, the soldier slashed out with their sword, slicing the tip of the nekomata's tail in two, and a split second after they were out, the piece fell, and trapped the beast inside. That was where they had remained ever since, sitting in the darkness, with their head hanging low, their eyes closed in disgrace, growing ever larger, but too heartbroken to leave, with their heart aching for the kind man who was no longer there.