The old cherry trees in the courtyard had decided to bloom with impeccable timing, transforming the entrance of the Susono Inn into an explosion of color. Pink petals collected between the stones of the courtyard's walkway, on the overhang of the foyer... oh, and if you got anywhere in a fifty foot radius of the place, you probably got a few on you, too.

( Read more... )

The weather was cool and the air slightly crisp beneath the shade of the old trees. There were some wines and sake available for the older guests, and juice for the younger ones (both rescued from the Inn's storehouse). And of course, there was cake.

Mmm, cake.

[Subthreads are A-OK, feel free to threadjack. If you want a super-pathetically detailed map of the Inn for some reason, check here. The invitation post is here. Again, if you've threaded with Allenby/Zouichi a couple of times/are on good terms with them, consider yourself invited! Just ask if unsure]

Kaya had, upon beig able to live in the W.I.T.C.H. bus for the time being, happily cooked meals for the inhabitants where she could, pleased that she could finally do her part. Today, when she woke up, she hadn't seen Matt. Thinking he might be out for a Council related activity, Kaya had let this pass, exercising in Will's classroom, training her body, and then popping over to visit Billy. When she came back, she got the feeling that Matt was still gone, and she started to worry, just a little bit. She asked around for him, but no one, not even those on Council, had seen him that day. Still, she was willing to ignore this, wait because it wasn't possible. How could it be? He was a Concil member, he was the W.I.T.C.H. bus person, it wouldn't make sense.

But she knew it was true. Felt it as surely as if she'd been told, and she couldn; bear to be around anyone, bemoaning his loss. After all, these were feelings only she knew right now, that loss of something she'd had after she had weathered so many changes. She had not thought it possible to be this cruel, after all of that.

And so she wandered to the baths, stripping down and sinking into the baths. It was perfect: she coudl cry all she liked adstay underwater so no one was the wiser.

She really wished Stacy would have given her more of a warning, before filling her head full of memories she wasn't sure she was prepared for. She had to excuse herself from a council meeting, apologizing profusely in half-panicked signing.

Kinase was dead. She remembered that now. He wouldn't be waiting in the pods for her when this was all over, he wouldn't kiss her cheek or remind her that she was overreacting (even when she was sure she wasn't). She wouldn't hear his laugh, or roll her eyes when he wore some gaudy, bright-pink shirt, claiming to be the height of Draenic fashion. He had been an idiot who had, somehow, agreed to marry her - first as a joke, then seriously, as someone who loved her. It figured that a man who'd survived the Cataclysm of Azeroth, and the Exodus from Draenor would somehow be unable to survive the Ohm's rampant destruction of everything.

But now he was gone, and she remained. If she'd been able to, Nehaalista would've screamed her frustrations. Her hooves found her pointed to the sensoriums, and she conjured up the home on Azuremyst they'd built and then subsequently hid in when Vaals was born.

Vaals, her little, little Vaals. Vaals was safe. He had to be. He was little and sweet, and she refused to believe that his big eyes, soft hair, and even, gentle voice was taken from her, too. Nehaalista's hooves tore up the half-finished pathway to the house and she threw the door open. Her little boy played on a blanket before several lighting crystals, safe and sound thanks to the illusion of the sensoriums, and somewhere floating in a pile of mucus down in the pod caverns if she were lucky.

Nehaalista picked the little boy up, who protested slightly, and sank into Kinase's chair. She buried her face into Vaals' light-colored hair and breathed shallowly. Why couldn't anything have simple and clean resolutions?

He really only intended to talk, eyes dark with rage and head throbbing in an almost rhythmically.

But he needed to know. An accident, sure. He could handle that. He could be frustrated and push for a policy change, but he could accept it. Accidents happened, they were frustrating, but dwelling on them only made the situation worse and lowered his effectiveness. He knew that. He'd learned that practically on the first day at the hospital. Things happened, and then you moved on and dealt with the next things happening.

But this...if Conner was right, if Tim was right, and he had no reason to believe that either would lie or make this sort of assumption.

An attack. On his family. That could not be tolerated.

'Never start a fight, it's ok to walk away, Rory. Strength is knowing when to walk away.'

'When what you love is threatened, spare no effort in protecting it. Mercy is for peacetime, kindness for your allies. To your enemies, show only the edge of your blade.'

He was fairly certian he was slowly losing his mind. Memories that weren't his pounding against the back of his temples until he just wanted to retreat, meekly, back to Conner and Molly and Amy.

But he couldn't, his legs wouldn't stop, his fists clinched furiously at his sides. Nothing in his face showed any of the mental turmoil, only rage that his family had been threatened.

He felt like something had possessed him, as though he might explode if the right sequence of buttons was pushed.

The door to Neuropathy swung open easily under his hand and it wasn't hard to spot his quarry. "Did you think no one would notice?" The words were cool, controlled, tightly leashed with threat and fury.