e m b e r s//o p e n

[{{Roxï-kun-+]

I'm a
{SLOW DYING FLOWER}

Cold, almost to the point of being bitter, laid over land as a whole like a blanket. Of course most blankets were warm though, the thought before sounding more of something to describe spring instead of a piece of the winter. Snow littered the ground, mush in some places and densely packed against the dead ground in others. The kingdom of Sanchu was no exception, a lot of powdery snow stacking onto itself until it was all just one layer everywhere in the city of Yamanash. It no longer snowed, for the moment, and some of it on the popular main cobble stoned roads had been painstakingly taken elsewhere. Usually this meant piles leaning against nearby buildings and shoved roughly into side roads and alleyways. No matter though, it was snow. More came and some melted, though it wasn't much of a run off. The melted snow would merely freeze into harder snow or, worse, slick ice that hid itself until it decided to trick you into taking a step onto it. Many children were playing in the streets despite the cold and the darkness of a long night. Their eyes were lit in various shades of awe and happiness while their cheeks were rosy red or pink and hair wet with snow. Parents watched on, either in their own world or chatting with one another about something no one strained to hear. Some even were playing with the children and celebrating in their own way while amusing the whims of their offspring or anyone else nearby. Overall, though, the city was unusually quiet. It was a home holiday, one that no festival was held for and might never be according to tradition. A new year was being brought in that very night, most shops closed or closing and most parents now looking at the sky for the time before nodding to their children to settle down, that it was almost time to go home. The landscape, usually bright for all the senses, now seemed muted. In such a scene, walking down one of the uncleared side roads, walked a lone figure. This figure wasn't a shadow, or anything that seemed that evil or dark as most figures would be described. Instead it was a lone female who could be taken for young and foolish. But if someone was to look into the eyes of this figure, they would realize no love-drunk sixteen year old stood before them. They were older eyes, not of the immortal kind but simply elder then the eve of sixteen. The slim figure, all short inky blackness for hair and porcelain china for skin, was nineteen years old but for all reasons looked to be a younger girl. A younger girl that perhaps could be lured, as many men tried while she readied herself for whatever fire dancing she would do. But they learned quickly otherwise when she bluntly cut them with the carefully sharpened tongue of hers. This figure -- this female -- was in her performance outfit. It was a sleeveless dress, which started below her fragile-looking collarbone, who's skirt went to the sides at an angle almost as if it was a ballerina's dress. The overall color was black, though flowers and petals made of fabrics were in all colors that radiated warmth such as red, orange, and a golden color. Black gloves, almost to her shoulders, and tights were black with lace at the ends of them, though the tights had white lines as well. Her shoes were simple black flats instead of the normal high heeled shoes she wore on stage. After all, it wasn't wise to break her neck on some flash of hidden ice. Axel Uzanami should have been cold. But she wasn't, without jacket or any sort of warmth to account for. Except her own, of course. This lady wasn't human, though for all purposes she appeared to be. Instead this figure was a fire elemental who's body temperature even told people that. Axel Uzanami, however impervious to cold she was, didn't exactly have a smile on her face as she looked up at the dark sky and saw that it had begun to snow again.

Sweet turning sour and
{UNTOUCHABLE}