bluerhythm

Rυιη Yσυя Rнутнм

✯○ ✯ - ]] Puffed out cheeks were turning rosie from how long he’d had them that way, chin rested on the heel of his palm before his free hand pressed the top of juice pouch into his mouth, teeth chewing away at the packaging in mild thought as amaranth hues seemed full of emotion, most of which was concern. He still hadn’t found a single person to enter the swim club he’d insisted on starting. As bad as it sounded, the first year was beginning to think trying to start the club was a mistake. 

Rose eyes closed as a slight whine came from his throat as he sat the bench of the train stop as he waited to head home. His free hand held his drink pouch to his mouth and he fell into his cloud of thought and planning, ignoring as his grip slowly tightened on the pouch until– 

“Ahh-!” His grip loosened right away, practically ripping the drink out of his mouth as he felt it all spill over his face and, unfortunately, his uniform, soaking the material thoroughly as he tried to catch his drink before it fell, “No, no!” He cried out and was relieved when he caught the pouch in his hold. Standing, the swimmer frowned somewhat and looked over his clothes. They’d need a very deep washing right away to avoid any permanent staining… Heaving a heavy sigh, Nagisa sat back down, head dropping somewhat. 

ƑƖƓӇƬ ƠƦ ƑԼƖƓӇƬ || ᴬᵁ ʷᶤᵗʰ ᵇˡᵘᵉ-ʳʰʸᵗʰᵐ

♁▣♁ - ]]   A blistering warm sun. It was such a regular climate the people, their bodies dressed to endure the sun’s painful rays. Locals were tanned by it’s warmth, their skin all bronzed from their daily lives outside. Despite it’s sweltering temperatures, everybody lived regularly, far too adapted to the desert climates. 

With the town being so small, locals knew who belonged and who didn’t, and when a travelers came, they did not hesitate to show their disdain of them, especially to the lowly and homeless gypsies, the beauties that merely drifted through in hopes of finding a shard of hospitality until they moved on. But they weren’t at all startled when they were looked at with glares and practically chased away by every shop keep and villager. It didn’t take long for the locals to begin crying for “justice” against the filthy “harlots” as they called them, and one by one, the innocent travelers were taken away, disappearing off the streets at the hands of local guards from the palace. Some fled before they were taken, abandoning their companions and possessions, others were sold off to wealthy families as slaves or to harems. It was a dangerous time for the homeless bands. They meant no harm. They simply wanted a place to stay for a while, finding a shred of peace. 

“You thieving rat! I’ll have you thrown in a cell, you animal!” 

An angry shop keeper shook an angry fist, a plank of wood in his other hand as he gave a brief chase to the colorfully dressed gypsy. He spouted angry words to the fleeing youth but gave up the chase, knowing full well that these people were quick on their feet. 

The aforementioned “rat” continued running, however, taking empty alleys and turns until he felt safe tucked away in an alley, locals passing by and failing to see the hidden youth. Nagisa, the lithe blond rover, gave a slow sigh and smiled at his prize. He’d risked his own neck for this. 

A scrap of bread.

Hardly enough to fill his stomach but it did enough to quell painful hunger that set in near the beginning of sunset. With little regret or guilt, he shoved the scrap right into his mouth, indulging in the satisfying “feast” and dreading the oncoming dryness of his mouth afterward. He didn’t care though. With enough care, he could run out somewhere to one of the wells and sneak a drink before a civilian chased him away. And so he sat alone, fighting hunger and eating his pathetic meal with much gratitude, wondering how much longer he could keep up this entire thing. How long until he too was taken away by the palace guards and auctioned or sold away to some dank cell? 

blue-rhythm-deactivated20150105 asked:

"Face Book." [ B) ]

✯○ ✯ - ]] You expect a lot of things to come your way. A wad of paper, a bug, even a french fry or grape! But a book?! 

“Rei-chaaan!!!” Rubbing the back of his head with his fingers, Nagisa whined, the corners of his eyes sprinkled with little tears as the soreness stayed where the book had whacked him, “That hurt! Why did you hit me?!” he cried, turning slightly to face his classmate.