Post by Deleted on Sept 27, 2016 1:02:59 GMT -5
Heaven wasn't very heavenly if you think about it. People go their entire lives in that realm just beyond the paths of the Dangai, dreaming of the serene pleasures that heaven should promise them for a life well lived. But instead they were destined to wind up here, in a world not really all that different from the one they came from really. People suffered. People died. They cried, they mourned. It's all kind of a bum deal really.
There were the thoughts that crossed through the cotton stuffed head of the small fabric figure that found itself lying beside the tattered, dirty, and blood stained black colored robes that acted as the uniform of members of the Gotei Five. It was on its back, it's limbs splayed out haphazardly as the black round circles that made up its eyes stares blankly at the rotten planks in the ceiling above. The peach colored fabric at the very end of its right arm pressed to the robes fabric, yet being made of merely fabric and cotton it could not feel its soft texture. It's mouth flap hung open slightly, exposing the darkened pink fabric within.
The fabric figure had spent some time in this position at this point. Enough time that the dust and dirt on the floor had begun to claim its fabric. a thin layer of dust clinging to it as if it had an irresistible static charge. Light shone through the various holes and cracks in the small wooden shack in which the scene was set, the grey wood cracked and scared with a lifetime of hardships. In a way it was like its latest, and last, resident. She had been a relatively young soul, hair and skin of pale white and eyes of crimson red. Despite her suffering she had had a good heart. To good for the fate that had befallen her. But befall her it did, and the robes that sat within the shack was all that remained of her coporeal form.
Some might say that she was still around, part of the greater essence of this land was call heaven now. Destined to reenter the never ending cycling of rebirth that all souls must adhere to. Others might say fuck that. This is heaven. Why are people allowed to suffer and die here? Either way what was done was done and there was no bringing her back, no matter how hard one tried to pull her essence back from the fabric.
The beams in the roof creaked loudly as dust began to fall down onto the pair of objects laying on the floor of this old abandoned shack. The fabric figure watched silently as a beam above finally gave in, unable to contain the weight placed upon its rotten form any more. If you looked close one might of seen an ever so slight movement from the figure, its mouth flap no longer slightly ajar as what could almost be heard as a slight sigh might be heard on the air.
As the shack finally collapsed in on itself, burying the figure below its debris, a faint word echoed just barely echoed on the wind. Of coarse none of the souls around the shack could hear it, being so caught up the the activity of their daily life that few actually bothered to take notice as the shack fell in upon itself. "Well, there it goes." Remarked one older looking man who sat against the side of a tea house nearby, lazily gumming on a cannabis leaf. He wore a ragged brown tunic made from an old rucksack, the word potato still imprinted on the side of it. His skin was almost black from the amount of dirt on him. His hair, once blond, was now more of a grey brown.
He spent several moments chewing the cannabis leaf before finally swallowing it, using the wall of the tea house to guide himself up as he got to his feet. On unsure footing he stumbled forward, vision slightly askew from a day of drinking saki and chewing hemp. Upon reaching the debris pile where the shack had once stood he took a moment to scratch himself thoroughly before placing his hands on his hip and leaning back. He then clapped his hands together, pushing aside the debris as searched for the treasures he knew had been inside.
As he moved aside the rotten wood he saw a small item jutting out slightly through the dirt. He reached down, grabbing onto a small cylinder like bit of fabric as he pulled it out. Shaking it around to knock off the dust he stared at what appeared to be a child's hand puppet, its body scuffed up and almost as filthy as himself. He smiled, backing away from the debris as he laughed just a bit to himself. Slipping his hand into a slot in the back of its head he started to flap the puppets mouth, making up a silly voice as he fooled around. "Durr durr durr!" He said, moving his arm left to right as he pondered the what such an object would be worth. Then more inappropriate thoughts entered his mind as he grinned. "Looks like I found me a new girl friend~" He said, his voice trailing off as he brought the puppet closer to his face. Suddenly he felt it compressing around his hand, and suddenly the mouth flap moved without his hands assistance. "Sorry Pal, this puppet only flaps for the ladies. Real flattered though. Woul-" The man swung his arm to the right wildly, sending the puppet soaring several feet into the wall of a building nearby. The hand puppet hit the wall with a soft thud, then fell face first to the dirt as the man looked from his hand to it, then back to his hand.
He was breathing heavily now, unsure what had just happened. Perhaps it had been the cannabis leaves he had been chewing on lately. He knew they had been far to good a deal. Why hadn't he just trusted his gut? He was shaking now as he started to take a step towards where the puppet had landed, unsure of what else to do at this moment as he mentally tried to calm himself. Suddenly the puppet started to get up, using it's tiny cylindrical arms to push itself up. It got itself to what could only be called its knees, then literally stood up on the lower limb like protrusions of fabric. It started to use its arms to dust itself off, continuing its sentence as it did so. "As I was saying, Would be a more tempting offer if you like...bathed or something. Probably the reason you don't have a real one." With that the hand puppet started to move forward, one leg in front of the other as it moved past the visibly shaken man. After a few feet the hand puppet turned back towards the man who had turned to watch as the puppet had walked past him. It turned its head slightly as it looked back at him. "Oh, all this is because of those mushrooms you are for breakfast or something, and you should probably lay off the Saki too. Or not. I'm a puppet not a doctor." With a movement that could only be described as a shrug the puppet made its way to the nearby tea house, walking under the swinging door before disappearing from sight.
With a heavy sigh the hand puppet moved into the dimly lit tea house that sat just across from the shack in which he had spent those long months in meditation. It's head was turned down, and its black fabric eyes stared down at the horribly scuffed wooden floor as it made its way along. It was busy in the tea house, scantily clad women moving from table to table with bottles of saki and tea. No one even took notice of it, most of them either being to drunk or to deep in enthusiastic appreciation of the bust and/or derrieres of the wait staff to take any notice. The puppet finally arrived to the bar, turning its head from the floor to look upwards at the seemingly impossible task of reaching the top. How was a puppet expected to order a drink at a service station like that? discriminatory is what it was. But these were things that puppets had to accept in this world, and so he turned to look at the patrons in the tea house to see what he could spot. In the left hand corner was a man with his head bowed, obviously passed out. He still had a bottle of saki in front of him, and maybe just maybe it still had some left in it. The puppet made its way towards the passed out patron, glancing upwards only once as a waitress with a particularly nice set of legs passed by on her way to bring someone a drink.
The puppet reached the passed out man and stared at him for a long moment. The guy looked horrid. His clothes were ragged, stained with what it hoped was just drink. Whispering the puppet extending its right arm, prodding at the mans knee. "Hey. I'm taking your saki. Is that cool? Hey." After a moment of trying to get a response from the man the puppet was satisfied that his hunch that the guy was passed out was correct and moved to wrap its fabric arms around the small saki bottle. Dragging it back out of the tea house the puppet now looked around as it sat the saki bottle on the ground beside him. Where would he even go now? He had always just followed others, and this was the first time he could remember having a real choice in where he would end up next. East? West? North? South? It was all open to him. With a slight flail of his arms the puppet shrugs, taking the saki bottle with his right arm and lifting it up just enough as to not drag on the dirt as it moved towards nothing in particular. He'd end up where ever he needed to end up he figured, bringing the saki bottle to his mouth flap and pouring the liquid onto the fabric.
1735- 23
There were the thoughts that crossed through the cotton stuffed head of the small fabric figure that found itself lying beside the tattered, dirty, and blood stained black colored robes that acted as the uniform of members of the Gotei Five. It was on its back, it's limbs splayed out haphazardly as the black round circles that made up its eyes stares blankly at the rotten planks in the ceiling above. The peach colored fabric at the very end of its right arm pressed to the robes fabric, yet being made of merely fabric and cotton it could not feel its soft texture. It's mouth flap hung open slightly, exposing the darkened pink fabric within.
The fabric figure had spent some time in this position at this point. Enough time that the dust and dirt on the floor had begun to claim its fabric. a thin layer of dust clinging to it as if it had an irresistible static charge. Light shone through the various holes and cracks in the small wooden shack in which the scene was set, the grey wood cracked and scared with a lifetime of hardships. In a way it was like its latest, and last, resident. She had been a relatively young soul, hair and skin of pale white and eyes of crimson red. Despite her suffering she had had a good heart. To good for the fate that had befallen her. But befall her it did, and the robes that sat within the shack was all that remained of her coporeal form.
Some might say that she was still around, part of the greater essence of this land was call heaven now. Destined to reenter the never ending cycling of rebirth that all souls must adhere to. Others might say fuck that. This is heaven. Why are people allowed to suffer and die here? Either way what was done was done and there was no bringing her back, no matter how hard one tried to pull her essence back from the fabric.
The beams in the roof creaked loudly as dust began to fall down onto the pair of objects laying on the floor of this old abandoned shack. The fabric figure watched silently as a beam above finally gave in, unable to contain the weight placed upon its rotten form any more. If you looked close one might of seen an ever so slight movement from the figure, its mouth flap no longer slightly ajar as what could almost be heard as a slight sigh might be heard on the air.
As the shack finally collapsed in on itself, burying the figure below its debris, a faint word echoed just barely echoed on the wind. Of coarse none of the souls around the shack could hear it, being so caught up the the activity of their daily life that few actually bothered to take notice as the shack fell in upon itself. "Well, there it goes." Remarked one older looking man who sat against the side of a tea house nearby, lazily gumming on a cannabis leaf. He wore a ragged brown tunic made from an old rucksack, the word potato still imprinted on the side of it. His skin was almost black from the amount of dirt on him. His hair, once blond, was now more of a grey brown.
He spent several moments chewing the cannabis leaf before finally swallowing it, using the wall of the tea house to guide himself up as he got to his feet. On unsure footing he stumbled forward, vision slightly askew from a day of drinking saki and chewing hemp. Upon reaching the debris pile where the shack had once stood he took a moment to scratch himself thoroughly before placing his hands on his hip and leaning back. He then clapped his hands together, pushing aside the debris as searched for the treasures he knew had been inside.
As he moved aside the rotten wood he saw a small item jutting out slightly through the dirt. He reached down, grabbing onto a small cylinder like bit of fabric as he pulled it out. Shaking it around to knock off the dust he stared at what appeared to be a child's hand puppet, its body scuffed up and almost as filthy as himself. He smiled, backing away from the debris as he laughed just a bit to himself. Slipping his hand into a slot in the back of its head he started to flap the puppets mouth, making up a silly voice as he fooled around. "Durr durr durr!" He said, moving his arm left to right as he pondered the what such an object would be worth. Then more inappropriate thoughts entered his mind as he grinned. "Looks like I found me a new girl friend~" He said, his voice trailing off as he brought the puppet closer to his face. Suddenly he felt it compressing around his hand, and suddenly the mouth flap moved without his hands assistance. "Sorry Pal, this puppet only flaps for the ladies. Real flattered though. Woul-" The man swung his arm to the right wildly, sending the puppet soaring several feet into the wall of a building nearby. The hand puppet hit the wall with a soft thud, then fell face first to the dirt as the man looked from his hand to it, then back to his hand.
He was breathing heavily now, unsure what had just happened. Perhaps it had been the cannabis leaves he had been chewing on lately. He knew they had been far to good a deal. Why hadn't he just trusted his gut? He was shaking now as he started to take a step towards where the puppet had landed, unsure of what else to do at this moment as he mentally tried to calm himself. Suddenly the puppet started to get up, using it's tiny cylindrical arms to push itself up. It got itself to what could only be called its knees, then literally stood up on the lower limb like protrusions of fabric. It started to use its arms to dust itself off, continuing its sentence as it did so. "As I was saying, Would be a more tempting offer if you like...bathed or something. Probably the reason you don't have a real one." With that the hand puppet started to move forward, one leg in front of the other as it moved past the visibly shaken man. After a few feet the hand puppet turned back towards the man who had turned to watch as the puppet had walked past him. It turned its head slightly as it looked back at him. "Oh, all this is because of those mushrooms you are for breakfast or something, and you should probably lay off the Saki too. Or not. I'm a puppet not a doctor." With a movement that could only be described as a shrug the puppet made its way to the nearby tea house, walking under the swinging door before disappearing from sight.
With a heavy sigh the hand puppet moved into the dimly lit tea house that sat just across from the shack in which he had spent those long months in meditation. It's head was turned down, and its black fabric eyes stared down at the horribly scuffed wooden floor as it made its way along. It was busy in the tea house, scantily clad women moving from table to table with bottles of saki and tea. No one even took notice of it, most of them either being to drunk or to deep in enthusiastic appreciation of the bust and/or derrieres of the wait staff to take any notice. The puppet finally arrived to the bar, turning its head from the floor to look upwards at the seemingly impossible task of reaching the top. How was a puppet expected to order a drink at a service station like that? discriminatory is what it was. But these were things that puppets had to accept in this world, and so he turned to look at the patrons in the tea house to see what he could spot. In the left hand corner was a man with his head bowed, obviously passed out. He still had a bottle of saki in front of him, and maybe just maybe it still had some left in it. The puppet made its way towards the passed out patron, glancing upwards only once as a waitress with a particularly nice set of legs passed by on her way to bring someone a drink.
The puppet reached the passed out man and stared at him for a long moment. The guy looked horrid. His clothes were ragged, stained with what it hoped was just drink. Whispering the puppet extending its right arm, prodding at the mans knee. "Hey. I'm taking your saki. Is that cool? Hey." After a moment of trying to get a response from the man the puppet was satisfied that his hunch that the guy was passed out was correct and moved to wrap its fabric arms around the small saki bottle. Dragging it back out of the tea house the puppet now looked around as it sat the saki bottle on the ground beside him. Where would he even go now? He had always just followed others, and this was the first time he could remember having a real choice in where he would end up next. East? West? North? South? It was all open to him. With a slight flail of his arms the puppet shrugs, taking the saki bottle with his right arm and lifting it up just enough as to not drag on the dirt as it moved towards nothing in particular. He'd end up where ever he needed to end up he figured, bringing the saki bottle to his mouth flap and pouring the liquid onto the fabric.
1735- 23