There is a picture, a painting, of a person. With silver hair and a sly smile. It was hard to tell if that person was a woman or a man, their rather androgynous features showing, telling, nothing save that this person is strong. Something else. Something more.
Sharp, piercing eyes stare down from where the painting hangs. Dark, all-encompassing eyes that enraptured anyone that looked like a void.
Their sly smile tells nothing save danger. Danger and fear emanates from every stroke of that smile. Sharp fangs poke out from that close-lipped smile almost as if he-she--they were hiding something. As if they weren't intentionally trying to scare them but...it was there. However there is a kindness there, a softness that just doesn't fit with the predator that watches. Waiting. It's a hungry smile but it's still kind. Somehow.
Behind them a katana's sheath pokes out. The tsuka is black with small white triangles, capped with silver. It glows from behind the person. Well-polished. Recognizable. It's the ceremonial katana that hangs from the walls of Lightning Country's Daimyō. Said to be given to them by a great...someone. Some say a god, a warrior, a warlord, an emperor, or maybe a beautiful princess. As a safekeeping. There are many stories about the blade but it is agreed that only someone great could have gifted this to the First Daimyō. Who handed it to the Second then to the Third and so on. It is tradition to hand this blade down from each leader to the next.
The blade is called Thunder-Striker.
The painting is named 'The Scarecrow.'
How odd. They did not look like a scarecrow.
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Midnight Storm (Uncompleted)
RandomOnce upon a time, there was a Moon goddess that fell in love with a silly wolf. The silly wolf had sung her many songs of loneliness and misguided hope, and she felt pity for him. So one day she came down, and the silly wolf mistook her for a sign...
