Rooted [Taichou/Henrex]

The months leading up to this point had become one large, blurring mass. A mass that obscured Taichou's vision to the point where she no longer knew who, or what she was. Emotionally, she was askew; for her last meeting with Mirja had not been pleasant, and she was now a half-Demoness with a hypersexually neurotic, overbearing, obsessive younger sister — that doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it? To say that Taichou was overwhelmed was an understatement, so she flat out removed herself from emotion all together. Physically, Taichou knew she'd changed. Her features had hardened, particularly those of her face, strained and matured undoubtedly by stress; and, her long, ebony tresses had been lopped off, settling angularly above her shoulders.

Dawn was approaching, the light peeping through gaps in the curtains of her bedroom. Taichou struggled free of her younger sister's vice like grip, without waking her, and rose to her feet, her bed clothes hanging in disarray atop her refined figure. Following her swift escape, Taichou concluded that she needed a break from the extravagance that was Arianda, and haphazardly pulled on a pair of sneakers, not even bothering to put on a bloody pair of socks.

She hastily made her way down the elaborate staircase that decorated the parlor of Arianda's manor, practically running to the front door of the foyeur before she halted, dead in her tracks. Taichou rolled her eyes, searching her pockets for a spare piece of withered, delapidated parchment; her eyes scanning wearily for a pen in order to scribble out, "WENT OUT. BE BACK LATER. TAICHOU." Upon completing this action, she set the note in the bowl that held all of the keys to the manor, dropping the surveillance necklace Arianda had created for her on top of it, with a sigh; and set out. She wrenched the door open, making no attempt to conceal the fact that she couldn't wait to step foot outside it, before her delicate, tattooed fingers met the cold metal door handle and pulled it closed behind her once she stepped over the threshold.

Taichou's hair toussled in the wind with each stride she took as she headed southbound from the manor. Quite frankly, the woman didn't care to figure out where she was going. She just wanted it all to end, so she allowed herself to wander under the moonlit, foggy haze of night. Her thoughts drifted, just as her feet did, and a scene formed within her mind's eye:

'My goat-hair paint brush touches the barren white canvas before me, in a dance. Colors of red, burgundy, dark blue and grey swim across it, forming a sea. As I paint, I feel alive; my heart begins to fill as the vast expanse of sky transitions from aquamarine to vermillion. The clouds change also, from the purest white to a flaming apricot hue. My hand takes life as if filled with its own intent; and I suddenly stop as I see the tide start to come in. The cold sea fills my footprints and wipes it away as if it were never there. I feel a sudden loneliness.

I gaze upon the reflective water and the dusky sky turning darker. The sun seems to be dancing as if with a twin on the red mirror-like sea water.'