Imeeji: Memory Registry

[carrionmywaywardsun]

Lists regained memories in chronological order. Will be updated as he takes more memories.

[010] and a mango
[012] happy families are all alike
[007] Do Not Talk Back to Me, I am Head of the Household Now
[004] spending time with unsuitable friends, war is looming
[002] hanging out with his sister until his brother RUINS EVERYTHING
[011] yer a sergeant, *******
[009] meeting ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^^ ^^ ^^^^^^^^
[001] friendship time with Shrike
[013] good riddance to that sad son of a bitch
[003] causing problems mostly on purpose
[005] “Shut up, I need to kill some fucking horses.”
[008] Ghost sakura viewing party
[006] friends with benefits and backstabbing

Comments

003 | causing problems mostly on purpose

[carrionmywaywardsun]

It’s a hot, bright afternoon. The street, lined with grand-looking buildings, is mostly empty because most people are inside, hiding from the heat. Everyone except Valor, leaning against one of said grand-looking buildings. He has a bored expression on his face as he cuts slices out of a red bell-shaped fruit with a knife, eating each slice off the blade.

Valor stands out like a stray splotch of ink against the colorful facades, dressed in black and gray robes. Fragments of bone dangle from his belt and are threaded on cords looped around his wrists; some human, some not. A crow’s skull dangles from his neck. He could stand to blend in more, but fuck that: he wouldn’t be standing here long enough to be noticed if Rain weren’t so fucking late.

A couple guys cross the far side of the street at the edge of his vision; he doesn’t know if they’re soldiers or police or what, but he recognizes a uniform when he sees one. They pause, conferring urgently between themselves, before one of them marches across the street to plant himself right in front of Valor.

“No loitering,” he says. “Move along.”

Valor looks at him, knife pausing halfway to his mouth. Rain’s got until he’s done with his snack to show up, he decides. “No.”

Across the street, his partner hisses something which sounds an awful lot like, You stupid fuck, let it go.

You Stupid Fuck does not let it go. He squares his shoulders. Puts a hand on the baton dangling from his belt for good measure. “No loitering,” he repeats.

Valor looks You Stupid Fuck dead in the eye, chewing lazily. “Nah. I like the shade.”

You Stupid Fuck does not look like he was prepared for this level of resistance. He half turns back to look at his partner, as if to ask to help. This is why he doesn’t see Valor cram the last third of the fruit in his mouth as his knife hand darts forward, because he’s a stupid fuck who showed someone with a knife his soft, bare throat. Some people are just fucking asking to die.

Partner across the street does see it, though, which is why he shouts “WIND!” right before Valor’s knife plunges into You Stupid Fuck’s neck.

Stepping around You Stupid Fuck’s falling body, Valor tosses the knife from the hand at You Stupid Fuck’s neck to his free hand. Partner across the street looks frozen with shock, which is why he makes an easy target when Valor catches the knife and flips it around before throwing it across the street and into his throat.

Blood splatters across the street from both bodies. The scent of life leaking away is familiar by now, and something contented purrs in the back of his head. It’s too bad he can’t stick around to soak in the panic and fear and death; someone’s already started shouting for the militia. Valor quickly crosses the street to retrieve his knife, scanning the buildings for an escape route. But then—a tall pale figure in dark clothes appears a few blocks away.

“Crow!” The figure looks distressed by the scene. Also, pissed off. “What did you—”

“Heyyyyy, Rain!” Valor calls, grinning. Never mind, new plan. This is too perfect to pass up. “Catch!”

Rain is thrown off storming toward him by the knife thrown at her face. She snatches it out of the air—just in time to see Valor duck down a sidestreet, yelling, “THERE’S THE MURDERER! DON’T LET HER GET AWAY!”

Despite Valor making no real effort to stay hidden, no one looks twice at him as he weaves through the growing crowd, not even the militia who storm straight past him toward the scene of the crime.

---

- Valor looks similar to his current self with the sickly complexion, etc. Maybe a couple years younger.
- Rain is a color-swapped version of his good buddy ^^^^^^^ somehow. They are definitely not buddies anymore. :( (And yes it's Shrike.)
- Okay but that was hilarious though have fun dealing with the militia while standing over two of their dead buddies with a bloody knife in your hand. (Inside you there are two wolves…)
- Awareness that he channeled Essence for his little vanishing act at the end.
- Desire for goth jewelry increases.
- Skill Gain: thrown weapons (no stab, only throw)

Visual References Because I Can
- small red bell-shaped fruit
- black and gray robes but with more bones (is this just an excuse to have Crow cosplay Xue Yang? Maybe.)