Broken Roads: Prologue

“Here’s the thing about bounties. They’re like the waves of the sea. Today, what seemed like a tsunami will be a puddle tomorrow…”

After many months of waiting, writing, hesitating and pondering, this is the official prologue to a ten part series on Takumi’s past, character and home, the Goyohan archipelago. Thank you all so much for supporting me and driving me to write this, and I hope the other nine chapters will please you as much as it was a pleasure for me to write them. Likes and reblogs would be appreciated, as I plan to use these stories to help people understand and see who the wandering vagrant is, and to allow people to peer into his history and past in a more active manner, as well as shed light to the new and reworked lore I have made.

Special thanks to @ionian-storm-chaser, my friend, my love, and my inspiration.

2,335 words long.

5-10 minute read.

Warning: Light gore and violence.

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                   “To live will be an awfully big adventure.”                      

                   Ask/art/rp/writing blog for Efisio, the Voice of Lost Youth.

                                             Penned by Gwisin.

                                   Rules / Ask / Story / Biography

                   “To live will be an awfully big adventure.”                      

                   Ask/art/rp/writing blog for Efisio, the Voice of Lost Youth.

                                             Penned by Gwisin.

                                   Rules / Ask / Story / Biography

Another Icon Commission for @ionian-storm-chaser

Tea n leaves. Leaves n tea.

Unmarked ver. waiting for you in discord

Commissions open

@the-wandering-vagrant

It the Vagrant

@the-wandering-vagrant

The world was swirling.

“Perhaps it isn’t,” he mused, his kisses moving down towards her neck, fingers lightly dragging themselves through the folds of her gown. “But you must agree... It’s a far more enjoyable way to...”

Everything had a certain sway to it, a gentle rocking as his body tingled with warmth, pressed up against her back, savouring her scent, her taste. Takumi nibbled her ear for a moment before scarred hands slipped themselves into her clothing, lightly tracing lines across her hidden breast in anticipation, a playful glimmer in his eyes as the room seemed to fade out from his thoughts.

“I think, perhaps you’re a little too sober tonight, my dear.”

Here’s the finished Conq Karma for my friend, ended up painting it!

His eyes widen for a moment, pushing himself off the Chalked walls as his fingers brushed over his matchlock, keeping his distance from this newcomer. "Who are you."

Already perceptive, his eyes fell upon her garments. Dark purples and indigo, worn dark and frayed mantle as tomes and elixirs hung from healthier belts and carriers, almost reminding him of himself as her fingers gripped around her waist, pain inked upon her brow as the Ionian rolled his eyes, walking towards her, grabbing her shoulder in an effort to stabilise the woman. "Where did you get that wound?"

Frayed ends of his jacket are caught in the playful dance captivating the blades of grass and blossoming flowers alike, the trail of smoke that coiled like dragons to the cloudy band above him was dragged away on the wind, earning Amber eyes that followed the misty haze depart.

Peace was upon the land.

Takumi sighed, soft and without frustration, pressing his pipe between chapped lips once again to fill his mouth with the taste of aromatic smoke. He was not always one to partake in such actions, his mind gently recalling to his mother playfully chiding the wide-grinned elders of his home, pipes between their gnarled fingers as they sat beneath the sun playing games of dice and card.

And yet, something about the scent, the taste, took him once more to his childhood, before the land was drenched with blood, churning mud of sickly bile and the musky stench of corpses. Something from long ago, when the world was calm, when the land was bright.

"What I would not do for another day."

"Only the exquisite ones," he replied, swirling his brush in a dish of ink beside him, pressing his wooden board against his knee once again to continue his work. From behind her, the autumn radiance had already begun it's fall to begotten sleep beneath the stars, the heavens palloured with ochre and bands of amber hue as his muse sat silently before the valley, as if nature itself complimented her form, her symmetry. "And I wish to make you a lasting one indeed."

More streaks of black had found themselves on the paper, forming pianists fingers as the vagrant brushed his cheek with a messy Palm, staining his face with a blurred patch of dark on fair skin. "I think that is enough for now," he mused, blowing on his work lightly before placing a circle of weights carefully around the paper as it dried.

"You did a wonderful job, my dear."