/vt/ - Virtual Youtubers

RATE THE STREAM

>>38167781
https://rentry.org/morig-coins
>>38109100
Anchor under /morig/, please.

>>25409479
In a heartland town, Keiji is cleaning up the last of the drunks before closing bar. The patrons had been few but the regulars had been generous. He locks the building and sets his way home. The night is fair.

Along the way, a pair of men appear ahead of him on the sidewalk. Keiji can’t tell if they’re raving drunk or just raving, but they’re impossibly loud, irritating, as well as blasphemous with the kinds of things they were proclaiming. He prays for them to at least quiet down as they pass, but they get even more raucous and crude as if in response, suddenly talking about other blasphemy he doesn’t understand. He turns his head as they pass.

The sight of something underfoot catches his eye and he stops. Keiji considers the small, bound blue book he thought he briefly saw one of the men waving before he evaded eye contact.

Before he wonders, the sudden feeling of a presence touches the back of his neck at the same time the sound of the men is no more.

Blankets of red and sable descended from soundless flight like an owl. Sleekly-fitted arms underneath heavy black cloak. Gripped in knife-like fingers, an ornamented nodachi. Underhood, its face was a fox’s, long of eye and marked by intersecting umber.

Standing but twenty meters away, it looms like a phantom, feeling at least seven feet tall from where Keiji stood.

>like a phantom

Keiji reflexively drops the book, but even his body’s knee-jerk response in flight mode felt eons too slow. An eternity of quiet passes between an unbroken exchange with the fox, punctuated by the sound of leather meeting pavement. He doesn’t know if his wits will leave his mind before the last of the air escapes his lungs.

Mere seconds had passed.

The figure silently raises a finger to its painted lips. With as delicate a movement as it is, its weight in sheer presence exudes immense gravity over Keiji’s entire being, his eyes drawn to the slender black digit like a world to its star.

Keep silent.

The message was clear.

Keiji is more than halfway down the block before he knows it, set on no destination except away. He rounds the corner with shut eyes, desperate to turn away from what he’d seen. He cast that memory and the implications of it down the boulevard and into the darkness of night.

Black robes flow and melt against the backdrop of night—alongside the two men and their blue book—vanished like smoke.

New kimono with long hair art. I remember an anon talking about it a couple threads ago
https://twitter.com/namiorii/status/1518417744588570625?s=21&t=qt88dPjiQncUKaaoh34WFw