Post by Greer Tayler on Jan 14, 2012 2:09:58 GMT -5
This is a Shinigami Social thread between Jisho Juzu and anyone else that wishes to join. I intend to have shinigami that wish to eventually befriend Jisho join this thread.
The setting of this thread is a beautiful spring day in seireitei. There is no work to be done so most shinigami have the day off. Drifting on the breeze with the glorious cherry blossoms one can hear the sounds of a flute.
listen to this, this is the song he plays
The breeze had that wondrous effect of feeling so cool and refreshing. That playful breeze that would make the cherry blossoms flutter as if pulled by invisible strings. That manipulating breeze that would tug and toss each individual strand of hair. That breeze that one may wish oneself to be like. Yes, it was that kind of breeze. The scents on the breeze were oh so luscious. The smell of morning dew on the freshly cut grass. The aroma of the hundreds to thousands of blossoming flora. The delicate scent of sweet buns fluttering about the playful breeze. It was all so wondrous.
The sun had naught a single cloud to hide itself behind. Its glorious rays would glimmer down upon the inhabitants below it filling everything and everyone with warmth and life. Oh so beautiful. The birds sang their lovely songs of adoration to one another. The cherry blossoms danced their elegant dances on the intricate breeze. Then there was the sweet melody of a flute intertwining with the beautiful day. The delicate notes drifting softly on the breeze as though it were always one with the kind gale.
The delicate notes would continue to flutter about the breeze so long as he continued to play them. His soft fingers would glide up and down the intricate bamboo instrument with ease. Every now and then the music would pause for a brief moment as he drew in a quick breath before continuing to play. It was a lovely song he played. It was a song that was motivational. A song that was inspiring. A song that was full of joy. It was a song that would definitely make one feel much more at peace. It was a song that would pick on up if they were down. It was a beautiful song, played on a delicate bamboo flute by a most interesting shinigami.
His fingers would glide up and down the delicate tool as the breeze tossed his crimson bangs that drooped just slightly before his half shut eyes to and fro. His downcast yellow ringed green eyes seemed to have a look as if in one's own place of tranquility. His face with that tranquil look upon it would also be slightly hidden behind the light that would glimmer off of the ellipse shaped maroon rimmed glasses that rested precariously close to the tip of his nose, evident that he had not bothered to adjust the eye wear for quite some time now. His soft pale hands continued to glide ever so gracefully across the instrument.
The male with his long crimson locks and yellow green eyes would continue to play his instrument as he rested under a lone cherry blossom tree. The tree's charming pink petals strewing about the field around him, one petal being so inclined as to land right on his knee where it would contrast greatly with the ebony fabric that made up his sleeveless shihakushou. The blossom looked almost as if it belonged as it paired up greatly with the crimson undershirt and the long crimson tail that draped over his right shoulder. Even so though, the blossom the would appear it belonged would be gone with the next gale. It would be gone in the wind, carrying the notes of the flute along with it.
The setting of this thread is a beautiful spring day in seireitei. There is no work to be done so most shinigami have the day off. Drifting on the breeze with the glorious cherry blossoms one can hear the sounds of a flute.
listen to this, this is the song he plays
The breeze had that wondrous effect of feeling so cool and refreshing. That playful breeze that would make the cherry blossoms flutter as if pulled by invisible strings. That manipulating breeze that would tug and toss each individual strand of hair. That breeze that one may wish oneself to be like. Yes, it was that kind of breeze. The scents on the breeze were oh so luscious. The smell of morning dew on the freshly cut grass. The aroma of the hundreds to thousands of blossoming flora. The delicate scent of sweet buns fluttering about the playful breeze. It was all so wondrous.
The sun had naught a single cloud to hide itself behind. Its glorious rays would glimmer down upon the inhabitants below it filling everything and everyone with warmth and life. Oh so beautiful. The birds sang their lovely songs of adoration to one another. The cherry blossoms danced their elegant dances on the intricate breeze. Then there was the sweet melody of a flute intertwining with the beautiful day. The delicate notes drifting softly on the breeze as though it were always one with the kind gale.
The delicate notes would continue to flutter about the breeze so long as he continued to play them. His soft fingers would glide up and down the intricate bamboo instrument with ease. Every now and then the music would pause for a brief moment as he drew in a quick breath before continuing to play. It was a lovely song he played. It was a song that was motivational. A song that was inspiring. A song that was full of joy. It was a song that would definitely make one feel much more at peace. It was a song that would pick on up if they were down. It was a beautiful song, played on a delicate bamboo flute by a most interesting shinigami.
His fingers would glide up and down the delicate tool as the breeze tossed his crimson bangs that drooped just slightly before his half shut eyes to and fro. His downcast yellow ringed green eyes seemed to have a look as if in one's own place of tranquility. His face with that tranquil look upon it would also be slightly hidden behind the light that would glimmer off of the ellipse shaped maroon rimmed glasses that rested precariously close to the tip of his nose, evident that he had not bothered to adjust the eye wear for quite some time now. His soft pale hands continued to glide ever so gracefully across the instrument.
The male with his long crimson locks and yellow green eyes would continue to play his instrument as he rested under a lone cherry blossom tree. The tree's charming pink petals strewing about the field around him, one petal being so inclined as to land right on his knee where it would contrast greatly with the ebony fabric that made up his sleeveless shihakushou. The blossom looked almost as if it belonged as it paired up greatly with the crimson undershirt and the long crimson tail that draped over his right shoulder. Even so though, the blossom the would appear it belonged would be gone with the next gale. It would be gone in the wind, carrying the notes of the flute along with it.