Posts by kira

    She seems like a nice girl. She's bubbly, almost, but not quite- just kind enough, just enthusiastic enough to be engaging, though he is not the chattiest bird on the branch. He is busy taking in her current words and the scenery, and mulling over her earlier words, analyzing them when he isn't listening to make sure he doesn't miss anything. He likes to be present in the conversation- being unresponsive is unattractive on even the most platonic of levels. Which, he thinks steadfastly, is exactly where this relationship will stay. He thinks he's made it clear, but he's not sure. In fact, he is so busy wondering about it that he doesn't quite piece together their route through the mansion.

    Kira's face doesn't change as he peers into the neatly-kept room aside from a small prick of his ears and a smaller squint of his eye. The smell of flowers wafts out from the doorway now that it is fully open. The soft edges of it seem so... fitting, though he supposes he doesn't quite know her yet. All she is to him is Ver's granddaughter. Champagne's sister. Another Cartellian. But she is hospitable and kind, and she's excited about her room, so when she invites him in, he supposes he can only oblige. "I suppose I can't refuse a good wine," he hums, entering the room like a shadow. "What would you like to chat about? As unfortunate as it is to admit, I don't think I'm all that interesting." It's untrue- he is obviously very interesting. She is already clearly interested in him for whatever reason, so she must have already figured it out. He finds a seat between a nice cushion and a small pile of flowers, then turns his sharp violet gaze to her again. "And, I'll have a glass of whatever you have, if you don't mind."

    Kira approaches, pale hue settling on Cairo, who was... much smaller than he remembered. Odd. But other than the simple thought, he paid the change little mind, wanting to focus on doing the little tasks they doled out here as they did everywhere else. He still hasn't finished his task from last week, but he intends on doing that one and whatever he gets this week in due time. Things had just been a bit bumpy, settling in.

    "I'd like one, please," he hums, voice more commanding than polite.

    "Welcome back, Asimov."

    There is no particular joy or excitement to see the Godfather, freshly returned from his vacation. There is simply a politeness, an understanding of respect that he hopes is mutual. They had only met one time, on Wind Haven's border, and Kira had asked him what exactly his goals were, to which Asimov had dutifully answered that he was on a quest for justice. It seemed an odd quest for someone in the kitsune's position; with his history. But truthfully, Kira hadn't cared much about that whole thing to be anything more than snippy when the kitsune had visited the Haven, and now he only mildly interested that the man had returned. Cairo had been doing fine on his own, after all.

    He's in the corner of the kitchen, sipping on tea that he's brewed himself, when Asimov waltzes in. It looks like the vacation worked wonders for him. "I would love to tell you everything that's been happening, but I'm afraid I'm too new here," he hums, tone glassy. He pauses to take a drink, ears twitching. "Your crew did well without you, though. Very kind." He returns his attention to the book he'd managed to find in one of the many nooks or crannies around the Peninsula, but is still clearly content to carry on a conversation. "How was your vacation?" He asks the question, inflecting as though he is truly interested.

    He's seen this one before.

    The last time the Flights had crackled red with flames and smelled black with ash, he had been living there, leading there, standing among it all. The sweltering heat had choked them for days before the flames had erupted from the cores of their trees and the cracks of their lands, as if the Volarians were a fever that the Jungle could not quite sweat out. Kira wonders if, perhaps, this is the same sort of issue- but, truthfully, he has little desire to investigate it further. Nonetheless, the scar across his face tingles as he approaches the man approaches Luci's call and the small crowd that formed around him. If everyone wanted to make a big fuss about helping out the Flights (which he is sad to hear has picked up the Cartel as a business partner again), then he was going to be there, since there was clearly no man as qualified as himself to help out. But what to offer?

    The former Volarian Emperor lets his gaze fall deftly on the child, brows drawing together as he mulls over ideas. Offering intelligence or a plan just seemed like it would be stepping on someone's toes, and that is not the impression he wants to make. When Champagne mentions family, though, he realizes something: Toulouse-Anne is still in the Flights. Is she not? She... she had been last he checked. Kira's lips thin as he presses them together. "I've lived through a Sundran fire before," he comments. "I'll be over to help." Perhaps leaving his assistance as vague as possible would help him in the long run- nobody would question him if he never told them what he'd be doing.

    GKLDSJFKL A VIBE.... and no worries and take ur time!!!! god knows i have schoolwork i should be doing instead of catsite lmao so i feel ur pain ✊🏻😔 tysm for making though!!!

    Kira is quick to follow everyone to the party, coming up behind Dee with a calculated grace in his step and an expectant glint in his eye. Single pale hue falls on Jasper, listening to the types of tasks he was giving out- thankfully they all seemed purposeful. Kira hates busywork. "I'd like a task, too," he states simply, wondering what the the Lieutenant might assign him.

    Kira is among the first few to approach, though for a moment, he wishes he'd turned around. The sound of pounding hooves and the familiarly accented call should have clued him as to who the stranger was long before he was standing in front of her, but apparently his ability to recognize past clanmates was suffering his evening. The minute he sees her silhouette, he recognizes her- after all, there are not many horses in Agrelos -and he almost leaves before he is within eyesight. But his leaving the Veil is old news now. They would be past expecting to see him elsewhere, would they not? He should be past expecting them to care about how he's doing, anyway.

    He stops himself behind Mysticpaw, and alongside Heavensdoor, turning his pale violet hue up to Orfhlaith with particular care. She smells of the pine needles that he now associates with abandonment. He wonders how the clan is doing, or why she's here, though last he checked, the two groups were allies. Maybe she's come as an ambassador, then.

    "Orfhlaith," Kira greets, keeping himself casual. "It's good to see you."

    OH I DIDNT REALIZE U HADNT FINISHED!!! take ur time bro but yeah just let me know when u are ready and we can figure something out :3c

    She's right- he knows very little of Ver's life in the Ruins, as he was never a part of it. But contrary to Brandy's belief, he met Ver far before he'd moved to the Veil. She had come to his clan, the Volary Flights, seeking a medical teacher (he suddenly wonders if that, perhaps, is part of what helped her evade death all those months ago), and though they had certainly had their quarrels then, she slowly became one of the chosen few that he allows into his heart. He wasn't always close with her, and there are still many mysteries about her that he has yet to learn, but the same can be said for him. They did not often delve into the deep secrets of each other's lives (he's not sure either of them particularly want to do that), but the company that she provides him is some of his favorite company to have. Though, what that means for Brandy, or what it could have meant, is a mystery.

    He glides his attention to her as she answers his question. Asimov's on vacation. Well, that would explain things, though he's not sure he's heard of an Agrelosian vacation before- perhaps it is a new trend. The blonde man offers a simple "Hm." of acknowledgement. He meets Brandy's golden gaze, ears pricking as she offers him a tour. A minute frown, smaller than even his small smile, clouds his serene expression as she mentions her role as a hostess, however- he wants nothing to do with any of that. He convinces himself he wouldn't want any hostess under any circumstance, but the fact that this one is Ver's granddaughter repulses him further. He wonders if she's offering as a businesswoman or as a clanmate- has her working life trickled so deeply into her private one? Or are tours a part of the job? "I hope you don't mind, then, if I see you as a clanmate before I see you as a hostess," he rumbles. His tone makes it clear that he will not be budging on his stance, whether she tries to argue it or not. But, he is quick to soften again, and his slight frown settles into a flat, neutral line. "But a tour would be lovely, thank you."

    He doesn't notice much of Champagne's scrutinizing, too busy with his focus on Brandy to notice. But, as she announces her leave, he returns his attention to her, watching the mischief sparkle in her eyes. He resists the urge to display his suspicion in his body language, instead letting the feeling prickle in his pawpads as he pushes a smile to his lips and wonders how many pleasant expressions he has left in his reserve for the day. He would hate to be rude, and it would be quite out of his character as a man raised on politeness and manners (or, at least, raised to perform these things despite how he may feel inside). "Of course," he hums in response. Then, he promptly turns back to Brandy, expectant gaze falling lightly on her.

    The man turns his eye to Brandy as she approaches, the pink hues of her pelt, and her similar mutations, making him wonder if she was related to Champagne. The horns were a bit different, a touch harder to discern from any regular mutation, but the wings and the hues and the small heart on the cheek- there was no doubt. She smiles, though there is a moment where she falters, and he wonders if he is being perceptive or if his eyesight is getting worse. As far as he knows, there is no reason to be upset. He's never seen her before. She shouldn't be one of the few who know about his past (and present) grievances with the Cartel. But he is practiced enough that he is able to maintain his easy professionalism even through his doubts, and he bores his gaze into the girl as she studies him. She smiles pleasantly, speaks briskly and sweetly- perhaps it was just his vision, then, that made her seem uncertain.

    "How lovely," he replies, though his tone cools slightly. He knows he's older than Ver, but hearing that she is a grandmother makes him feel older, too. He doesn't dwell on it. He lets his lost pleasantness trickle back into his tone before he replies again, though, managing to maintain some semblance of warmth in his words. "Thank you, Brandy," he hums. "I look forward to settling in." Oh, what a lie! But he has spent much of his life telling lies in one way or another, and it rolls off his tongue as easily as his name does. He makes a mental note that she and Champagne are sisters, as though their appearance alone is not enough of a clue.

    Cairo is lucky that Kira did not catch his hesitance in his approach. His critical eye is always on the hunt for a flaw of any sort. Had he known that Cairo's extra caution was taken because of an intimidation factor would have only worsened things- surely the knowledge would go to Kira's head. He had built a fearsome reputation in his time leading the Flights, and there are certainly days where he longs to be known that way again. Perhaps that is part of the reason he seeks the Cartel now.

    He casts his razor gaze to Cairo as the catsune approaches. The Cartel welcomes you. How grand. The upwards turn of his lips grows slightly; he wonders if this is really all it would take for a change of heart, however. "How kind of you," he muses, ears twitching. "It's a pleasure, Cairo." The catsune continues- I'm the Godfather of the Cartel. Ah, um, for now. At least. An eyebrow raises, and his remaining eye squints slightly, distantly curious. "Oh?" His weight leans slightly forward towards Cairo as the other bows his head. "For now? I do hope nothing horrible has happened to Asimov." He's lying, effortless. He prefers this Godfather, however temporary, anyway- but, then, maybe that is his bias speaking. Past grudges would get him nowhere here. Hell, if he'd kept the same steadfast hold on all of the grudges he'd ever formed, he wouldn't be on this border in the first place. Would things be better that way?

    The air has been silent for long enough. He looks between the three gathered, as warm as whiskey. "Might I trouble any of you for a tour?" he asks, disgusted with the grace he is giving these people. Thankfully they are new faces, making niceties easier, but his old philosophies still fight with him as he struggles to force himself to adjust to this decision. His smile does not waver as he glances between them, equally expectant (though, once he fully realizes Champagne is pregnant, he also realizes he would not like to force her to walk any further than she has to- it would reflect poorly on him).

    reaches for dee bc im love him

    i think he and kira have a lot of interesting dynamic potential! they both seem to be very focused on business & professionalism but with very different approaches to how it should operate; dee puts a lot of genuine heart into his work while kira is convinced that a cold and impersonal approach is better while maintaining a mask of politeness. i would love to see them be friends (or rivals!) that get close over time :3c kira would also love to have a friend to show off his wine knowledge to if u would ever be interested in a friend like that

    He can recognize Champagne as a Tormenta-Million the minute he lays eyes on her. The stranger's pale coloring is not one he has grown to associate with Ver's family, but the crown of three horns and the wings she sports are certainly clues to it. It looks like the Cartel is not as isolated as he thought it was. Or, maybe more accurately, Ver's family is far more spread out than he ever thought it was. The scarred blonde man flicks his gaze over her critically, but with a bit of a softer expression than normal. Ver is his friend, after all- then why are you running from her? -and he would hate to be rude to one of her kin. Besides, she looks sweet enough. Kira manages a smile. Pity she lives here, but then, he'll be living here too, if things go as he wants them to.

    "It's a pleasure to meet you, Champagne," he replies to her greeting, his voice warm and deep in its timbre, a late-night bonfire. He wants to rush through this process so badly, but he wonders if he ought to take his time, if only to return the respect she was dealing to him. "Are you related to Ver? She's a good friend of mine." He can't help but ask, but her question is more important. "And- my name is Kira. I would like to join you all." The words are out, and now he can't take them back. This is for real. He lets his pale gaze rest on the young girl's face, waiting for her answer, and hoping no one might try to intercept his acceptance into the group.


    current inventory:

    past inventory:


    carved for the shadow veil tradition, kira owned a small handful of runes (both carved by himself and others) that had different meanings according to the color of stone they were carved on. the most notable of his were the ones he carved for enjolras and for rohan. they were lost when kira abandoned the shadow veil.

    purple sweater.

    suggested by adara to wear in the winter months, kira owned a purple sweater that he donned most often during the blizzard. edo's encouragement also helped it stick around as a staple of his winter fashion. it was lost when kira abandoned the shadow veil.

    tea set.

    gifted to him by sweaterpaw, kira treasured this tea set as a symbol of kindness among an ocean of stress. he had grown very cynical of any attempt to get close to him, but this tea set was different. sweaterpaw gave this gift to kira simply to be kind, not expecting anything in return. it was lost when kira abandoned the shadow veil.

    family photo.

    a picture of himself, his mother, and his father. it was lost in the sundran jungle fire of 2019.

    This is, quite honestly, one of the last places Kira assumed he would end up.

    The Cartel has never been among his list of favorites, but it had been making its steady decline out of his good graces for a long time now. Ryad, parading Rohan's skin like it were some kingly robe still haunts his memory. He recalls when he faced the Cartel with a humored ambivalence following Lucantine's fumbled approach to business, and he recalls just when that mirthful annoyance had shed its skin and become a much deeper, richer distaste- dare he say a hatred -for the merchant rats. He still finds much of the Cartel's business ventures to be below him in terms of morality. And yet, he stands on their border, pale hue burning as he gazes inward. The grass is disgustingly lush thanks to the criss-crossing of the many streams the Peninsula hosts. He dislikes the idea that this territory is at all nicer than any of those he has housed himself in before, but then, if he is to make the Cartel his home, he should learn to appreciate these things, hm?

    He fixes an expression onto his face that is somewhere between neutral and pleasant. Kira knows that anyone old enough to have visited the Veil when he lived there would know his attitude towards this place has been rather unpleasant in the past; he also knows that he has been unkind to Asimov himself, though only in implications. But he is nothing if not determined. He wants to remove himself fully from his past, to turn over a new leaf, and what better way to do it than by joining one of the places he has so often damned? Toulouse-Anne would never think to find him here. This ratty night market is below her, and it should be below him, too, but he stands here expectantly in spite of that feeling. Ver would never see him here, either (he assumes), nor would Mercy or Calina or Ulla or anyone else who has ever cared about him, pretending or otherwise. He'll blend in with this crowd as he has so many others, at least for a while. But, truly, Kira wants much more for himself than to blend in.

    The feline taps his paws impatiently against the earth, ears flicking towards any small sound they can detect. He is waiting for footsteps, a small hello, a 'name and business', but he feels so restless. Perhaps he's afraid that Ryad will emerge from the soft green with a vengeance. Perhaps he's hoping for it, so that he can burn the coyote the rest of the way through. Much of him just wants to get this process overwith, though- he has never been too patient.