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amiharana · 1 year

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Link is peak older brother energy I feel that is essential to his character. But the odd thing is that he's equally likely to be evil to his sister or the Perfect Role Model (he seems to be good with kids in botw too) and I think that entirely depends on how big the age gap between him and his sister is (bc link probably matured way too fast after he pulled the sword, not that he had no morals before but any mischievousness disappeared after that)

But either way can you imagine being links sister whether you're close or not like😭 And your brother is literally the divinely chosen champion of your nation. how do you live up to that i know those family dinners were tense. Links dad is out here like so proud of my son who just bested a swordsman many years his senior to become the sovereign royal princess' head chosen guard. and also my daughter for getting a C+ in her sheikah basic history exam. 🙂

What do you think revalis family situation is like. Because I have no clue but I know that guy must have Issues

anon i'm so sorry it took so long to answer this but i've been excited about this question since i saw it in my inbox. the "my daughter getting a c+ in sheikah history" bit had me rolling like here's my kid who is prophesied to save the world vs. my kid who gets into fights with cuccos. giving very much gay son or thot daughter

you're absolutely correct that link is very much Older Brother, but because pulling the master sword made him mature too fast and bear the burdens of the world as its adolescent savior, he's an Eldest Daughter by default (more under the keep-reading because i failed again in making this short)

i honestly like both ideas of link's little sister either adoring him and looking up to him like a role model, or despising him and spitting at him every time they saw each other, but it would depend a lot on whether or not link's parents splitting was amicable or not. my original headcanon kind of implied that after link's parents split, they never saw each other ever again because link and his dad were at hyrule castle and link's mother and sister stayed in hateno, but it would be cool if link's parents shared custody and had each kid go travel to see their other parent and sibling lol. i think that link would definitely write letters to his mother and sister, even if they resented him.

from here i'm just gonna refer to link's little sister as aryll until i solidify her character (i'm stuck between two names for her right now) and because it's just easier LOL but the idea of aryll being like a teeny baby 5-6 years younger than link who thinks her big brother is so cool and wants to become a knight just like him, carrying around fake wooden swords with her, wearing an oversized soldier's helm, and telling her mother like "i'll protect you, mama!" is so cute. vs. aryll being a year or two younger and resenting link for being better at everything than her and how no one seems to acknowledge her accomplishments when link's cast a tall shadow over hers. aryll, who does everything to prove that she's just as good of a fighter as her brother is, but her father still brushes her aside for link.

i think the reaction that either version of aryll would have if link slowly went quiet and stopped sending letters or coming to see her after pulling the master sword would be devastating. for teeny baby adoring aryll, she would wonder why link hasn't sent any letters recently and rationalizes it as being busy with being the champion now. as time goes by, link doesn't send any more letters at all and he doesn't ever visit despite there being sightings of the hylian champion everywhere but the necluda region and aryll would slowly become heartbroken and distraught that her big brother isn't talking to her anymore, that he seems to have forgotten about her.

but for resentful aryll, it further proves that link never cared about her and her mother at all and that all he cares about is prestige and status and fulfilling his stupid destiny as the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness (she rereads link's old letters in the middle of the night with nothing but a tiny flame, and cries silently wondering if things would be different if their parents never split or if link was never chosen as a champion).

sorry i made it sad LMAO but yes it would be funny if they still had family dinners with their father being like "today, link bested five men in hand-to-hand combat all at once, fought off ten monster hordes alone, and deflected a guardian beam with a pot lid saving someone's life! how did your day fare, aryll?" and aryll is just like. i fell off my horse shooting 20 bullseyes during practice. their father is just like Hm. That's nice. Your brother can do 50 while standing on Epona's back. cue aryll staring murderously at link, meanwhile link does not give a single shit about this conversation, he's busy shoving his face full of the food that aryll cooked because aryll is a good cook :)

it's would be such a funny perspective, aryll plotting to murder link in his sleep vs. link who is oblivious to aryll's resentment and still thinks that's his little sister who fights well and cooks a great meal. now i'm thinking about link and aryll who used to cook dinners together and learned how to cook from their mother... :(

now revali, my poor dear sweet revali... i've seen a couple fics here and there that mention revali's family situation, but i personally am in favor of the idea that revali was either abandoned or orphaned as a fledgling, and was raised by the elder and the whole of rito village in general. since nintendo gives us no indication of revali's family but implies that revali is around the same age as link, zelda, and mipha as per urbosa's diary, there's a lot of potential and flexibility with this idea.

if revali was abandoned, i think the rito would shun his parents because i like the idea that family and bonds are very important in their culture, and what kind of parents would abandon their baby like that? who even knows why revali's parents would do that but i think there are still no indications of revali's family in age of calamity, so perhaps they fled the village when revali was born and abandoned his egg in the nest. fuck them fr! this could be a good explanation for his motivation as to why he pushes himself so hard to be better as per the DLC champion revali's song memory. his parents didn't want him enough to keep him and even fled the entire village so that they wouldn't be held responsible to care for him anymore, and that stings. it would be a deep-seated insecurity for revali, a sense of betrayal, loss, and desperation to be loved, to be wanted by someone. so he trains to be better, he pushes himself until he collapses, because if his parents didn't want him as he was, then maybe no one else will.

now if revali was orphaned, i would assume that both his parents were revered, formidable warriors who died in battle but most importantly, that they did love and want revali. revali might have already been hatched at this time and present at his parents' funerals, which is actually the saddest thing ever. a tiny orphaned little hatchling who being the one to send his parents off, to honor them for dying a warrior's death. it might be a good origin story and another really good motivation behind revali's character, why he pushes himself so hard to be better. do you think baby revali thought it was his fault that his parents died in battle, that he wasn't strong enough to protect them and that's why he needs to be the strongest warrior there ever was among the rito to make sure he can protect the people he cares and loves for the most? now imagine this version of revali cradling a dying link in his arms lmao

both are good backgrounds for revali but i think at the moment i'm leaning towards the orphaned storyline. it's only thing to be unloved and unwanted, but to know you were loved and wanted but to lose those people so soon is incredibly tragic. to know those people for a short window of time and lose them so soon must tear revali apart everyday. do you think he sits alone in the flight range in the quiet of the night after hours of training, trying desperately to remember his father and mother's faces, how they must have felt to see their son hatch, how they thought they would return home safely to him that day? he's loved and respected by the village and the elder treats him as their own, but it's not the same as knowing you had a mother and father who wanted you as their own too. he's honestly also the village's biggest tragedy. i'm imagining him as a fledgling, fresh out of the funeral, walking past some rito mothers cooking meals for their kids or some shit, openly talking about how tragic it was to lose some of their best warriors and to leave behind a son in their wake. it's too much for baby revali and he runs down the platforms of rito village and hides in a tree in one of the island spires connecting the village to the mainland, crying his eyes out.

my poor blorbo revali, please treat him and link kindly everyone. they're always going through some shit whether it's family trauma or their weird gay courting 😔

#loz #botw #loz botw #legend of zelda #amihan's botwverse #amihan's headcanons #ask #this post is so long i'm sorry it took so long again anon #should i do a post going in depth about my headcanons on link and revali's families respectively?#like fleshing them out as characters?#i might. don't hold me to it but i might.#i really liked this ask a lot genuinely #i started doodling what i think “aryll” would look like #i haven't decided yet but i might try to do an actual drawing idk #the two names i'm stuck between for her are “talei” and “miran”#i searched up 'baby names that mean precious' and those were the two i liked #technically miran is also marvelous in latin? but the 'boy' name meant precious in russian or something #idc i like both names #anyways revali is lowkey an inverse parallel to naruto idk #like naruto also lost his parents in a tragic way #and was meant to be revered and treated with respect because he was a symbol of the sacrifice his parents made to save the village #but the village treated him like a monster for having the demon inside of him and ostracized him #revali is the inverse of that #revali and link but they're literally sasuke and naruto #god i eat that sun-moon symbolism shit up omgg #anyways sorry if there are any mistakes or grammatical errors lmk so i can fix them

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aragarna · 1 year

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Since we're on the topic of the musketeers, please may I ask for your thoughts on the rest of the lads? Thank you kindly! =)

Let's just do that. ;-) We have d'Artagnan and Porthos left.

I have a particular foundness for Porthos because he's the less complicated one. He's loyal to a fault. They say "let's go", and he goes, no question asked. Because he's strong and bigger than life and not as complicated as the others, he's often reduced to a caricature of vaguely dumb and basically just muscle, and it really annoys me (I'm looking at you, Gérard Depardieu). Yes, he's a little vain and he likes titles, but he isn't dumb. Porthos has a good heart, and he's a good friend.

We should all be so lucky to have a Porthos in our lives.

Also, [spoilers for the last book] His death broke my heart. All of them, really, because there's something rather sad seeing our heroes reach the end of their lives, no matter how full and long but… Damn, I still have that vivid image of the vanquished giant in my head…

The last book is rather sad, to be honest, though it is a fact a life that people move on with their lives. It doesn't mean we aren't friends, we just see each other less, if at all. But that makes for a more melancholic read.

Anyway...

That leaves us with d'Artagnan, my old love. I guess because he's the young and innocent one at the start of the novel, he's the one I identified with and fell in love with (as mentioned earlier, I was about 12 or 13 the first time I read it). The book as a whole made a big impression on me, from that iconic first meeting between d'Artagnan and the three musketeers to that siege of La Rochelle. D'Artagnan is young, but he's also smart and quick thinking, ever ressourceful. He's funny and witty, but also uncompromising and earnest. He's full of life! He swears like the gascon he is! He's a great swordsman and the most loyal of friends.

He's quick to make enemies, but he's even quicker to make friends. And even though he's stepping into an already existing trio, he immediatly becomes, not just a part of it, but the natural leader. And all his life, even after they parted ways, he'll always fight to keep their friendship (ie, travel on horseback to go visit them one by one)

And that friendship means everything to them, and everything to me. This is the kind of loyalty that makes me weak in the knees. They'll die for each other, and I'll die for them.

Who do I ship him to? Constance I suppose, though my ace self likes the idea that this story is all about the friendship. Love stories remain secondary. There's no "your life can't be fulfilled without love" idea like in so many other story. On the contrary, it's all about friendship, chosen family. That's probably why that story is so important to me. The most famous friendship story of literature. So let's not ruin it with ships. So I guess my not romantic ship is obviously the title quatuor.

As for what I wish would have happened, I think when I first read it I wished the book would have ended before his death. t's one thing to leave your hero at the end of a story, and another all together to read how they died (it's true for real people too. I've always felt weird reading such celebrity died at such age from such cause. Please let me imagine them immortal).

As for adaptations, I wish there were stories that managed to be more true to the original material. The meeting is usually covered faithfully enough, but the Buckingham affair is usually approximative, which is a shame cause there's so much good stuff! Also I really want an adaptation of Twenty Years Later and that heartbreaking/heartwarming reunion in the dark.

thank you for playing! Time to wrap this up for today! Damn, now I want to re-read the book...

#a meme!#the three musketeers #les trois mousquetaires #now I'm late packing #I'm off for today #thanks for playing!#porthos #d'artagnan

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kazeofthemagun · 3 years

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Kaze - Character Tropes

[A thing I compiled for fun for my portrayal of Kaze and all my headcanons. There is so much stuff on TVTropes that I may keep adding as I go. He does have a page on it but it's lackluster for my taste XD but here it is.]

[Putting all this crap under a read more cuz that is long.]

Purpose-Driven Immortality / Regenerative Immortality - as long as the prophecy holds and Chaos still exists, Kaze cannot die. When his body is killed, he comes back through regeneration, centered on the Magun.

Soul Jar - the Magun, specifically, his heart that had been transplanted into it and bound him to the Gun Dragon sealed in the Demon Weapon. The vial is warded by very potent magic - supposedly, only another Unlimited has the power to break it.

Touched by Vorlons - granted immortality by Bahamut, the Gun Dragon, upon being accepted as Magun's prophecized perfect wielder - Unlimited.

Cybernetic Mythical Beast - the Gun Dragon and how he came to be - made from the slain Bahamut's corpse and infused with tech, animated by his still-living soul. As such, all Summon Spirits that come from the Gun Dragon and his Magun are also biomechanical in nature.

Dracolich - Gun Dragon is technically undead, while also reinforced with machinery to create a "perfect Weapon". He's forged from parts of his own corpse, bones showing through such as the arms, legs, exposed spine.

Draconic Abomination - Gun Dragon.

Dragons are Divine - Gun Dragon as the Windarian God of Destruction - the title gets passed on to Kaze as his chosen and vessel. Also War God.

BFG - Magun is fucking massive.

Bling-Bling-Bang! - Magun seems to be made of gold, but is really composed of an unidentified alien metal. Shiny tho.

He Who Hunts Monsters - fanatical levels of obsession with hunting everything Chaotic. (His title of choice being literally the Hunter of Chaos, Hunter for friends.) Definitely partially a personal vendetta - his whole world was devoured and his own mind was ripped nigh to shreds - but also a purpose felt strongly through the connection with Magun/Gun Dragon, a Demon Weapon forged specifically to combat Chaos that activates only at its scent, pre-repaired verse. Almost leads to a Van Helsing Hate Crime against Ai and Yu - luckily, Kaze is not that merciless and spares the kids for wanting to live as humans and not demons. All in all, Kaze/Gun Dragon are a cosmic force that opposes Chaos till the end of time. Also Married To The Job.

Collateral Damage - piss him off and you're gonna go. Alongside everything in approximately a 5 mile radius of where you're standing. (Thankfully he learns more restraint with time, attempting to minimize casualties where possible. Still, if ending Chaos requires sacrifices.. so be it.) Probably also Inferred Holo//caust in FFU. He had blown up huge chunks of land to end his foes. Likely killed people or at least animals :/

The Stoic - His personality archetype.

Weak to Magic - Blue Elenium, a special type of water magic that corrupts Soil. As an extension, Kaze is harmed more by water magic in general, seeing as the energy messes with Soil flow.

Trauma Button - having his hand held/touched suddenly. It brings painful memories of his sister, Aura, who died holding his hand. Under Chaos' influence, it was one of the only memories Kaze still had of her, rendering the trigger particularly intense and sending him into dissociative episodes. Furthermore, a fear of Gaudian flowers - the blue phantom flowers that herald the arrival of Chaos. Suffers from visions and nightmares of a very gory nature that involve said flowers.

Shell-Shocked Veteran - of the War with Chaos.

Loners are Freaks - he is an introvert born to a society that abhors weakness as disgraceful and sinful. Has trouble connecting with people - but he also (mostly) doesn't need to. Due to the nature of his quest, accepts his fate as the one who will never fit in anymore. "I am the monster who hunts monsters so that you may sleep at night human. It is a thankless job."

Beware the Quiet Ones - his silence precedes a storm. When he speaks, his words boom as thunder - be they a roar or a whisper. This man wastes no words.

Aloof Ally - self-explanatory.

Tranquil Fury - most of the time. Also, Rage Breaking Point applies when facing Kumo mid-show. Except Kumo promptly wrecks him, without much effort involved. It is only later (After-series) that Kaze recovers most of his power and sanity, and gains equal footing to his rival.

Firing One-Handed - can only do so this way. Only has one hand 99% of the time, the other is bound to the Magun and is reformed only to fire it.

Guns vs Swords - him and Kumo - Demon Gunman vs Demon Swordsman. Gun Dragon vs Sword Dragons.

Hand Cannon - Magun, to a lesser degree Orthrus.

I call it "Vera" - with Orthrus, named after the patron shepherd dog spirit of the sun's blood-haired children.

Improbable Aiming Skills - especially with the Gun Demon sight.

Overheating - the Magun when too many summonings are performed too quickly. As an extension of it, Kaze himself. May result in a death via Spontaneous Human Combustion.

Sawed-off Shotgun - Orthrus, double barreled.

Sniper Pistol - Orthrus.

Trigger Happy - self-explanatory.

Ancestral Weapon - the Magun, passed down the line of the Windarian summoner prodigies.

Made of Indestructium - the Magun, which cannot be broken by anyone short of another Unlimited.

Living Weapon - the Magun. Also, Legendary Weapon.

Shapeshifter Weapon - the Magun, a part of Kaze's body - gauntlet, windmill, gun. Replaces his right arm.

Only the Chosen May Wield - the Magun.

They Call Him "Sword" - except, gun. Kaze views himself as more of a weapon than a person at times. Makes sense, considering he is one - his true body is the Magun, which houses his heart, binds his soul and consciousness, and serves as the core from which his regenerative immortalitysets to work.

Nemesis Weapon - Kaze's Magun to Kumo's Maken. While forged for the same purpose, they govern conflicting energies. Also, Sword vs Gun.

Weapon Wields You - the Magun to Kaze with its funky laser-guided teleportation, always going after Chaos. Oh, Chaos' signature is underneath the ocean? Too bad.

Equippable Ally - Kaze, after reducing himself to the Magun and having Kumo and Lisa wield him to bring out the Gun Dragon.

Human Weapon - Kaze, literally.

Become Your Weapon - Kaze with the Magun.

This is a Drill - the Magun's Soil engine that activates Soil through spiral motion. Combined with a wholeass windmill.

Spectacular Spinning - the Magun's windmill. Plainly put, Spin to Deflect Stuff. Also, Blow You Away applies due to the Tornado Move.

Deadly Rotary Fan - the Magun's windmill used offensively.

Swirling Dust - Soil Spiral on the winds generated by the Magun.

Transformation Is A Free Action - seems to be the case in the series. May not be the case always.

Mechanical Lifeforms - Gun Dragon and all its summons.

Badass Cape - of course.

When Things Spin, Science Happens - the Magun's spinning shenanigans empower Soil.

Stock Footage - the summonings. He is become budget, Destroyer of Chaos. Also Transformation Sequence. Guy has a routine.

Running Gag - his spontaneous appearances, seemingly from nowhere.

Emergency Transformation - soul reforged into a Soil bullet, summoning himself as the Gun Dragon.

Elemental Powers - all the summon spirits.

Soul Power - Soil.

Soul-Powered Engine - the Magun/Gun Dragon.

Merger of Souls - Kaze with all of Magun's leftover Soil, as well as Bahamut's soul that animates Gun Dragon. Also Many Spirits Inside Of One - Endless White as the confluence of all the colors.

Emphatic Weapon - the Magun has a mind of its own, considering it is a vessel for the Gun Dragon.

Shoot the Hostage Taker - with Soljashy. Goddammit, Lisa.

Theme Music Power Up - Demon Gun Dissolve and Demon Gun Shot.

Black Blood - Kaze's blood, corrupted by the Magun's smoke. His earring, made of his own red blood mixed with tree sap, is a reminder of when he was still fully human. Technically also Machine Blood - it serves as a coolant for Magun and catalyst for Soil. Furthermore, My Blood Runs Hot - whenever Magun malfunctions. May be dangerous, as already mentioned.

Important Haircut - Kaze wears his hair long specifically as a "fuck you" to Windarian folk beliefs related to the blood hair curse.

Dark-Skinned Redhead - self-explanatory.

Death Glare - his usual go-to method of communication.

Icy Blue Eyes - a cold stare.

Eyes Do Not Belong There - Gun Dragon, with four eyes on the chest and one on the belly in addition to the four already on its head, also, many other summons, such as Phoenix or Raiden.

Glowing Eyes of Doom - Kaze's special Gun Demon crosshairs eyes, for when the time comes to be particularly scary.

True Sight - Kaze is capable of seeing through most basic illusions due to an extremely sharp spirit sense. Can see certain types of ghosts. Also Supernatural Sensitivity.

Cool Shades - wears a dark lens over his left eye to minimize distraction via Orthtus' muzzle flash. Also, Sunglasses At Night.

Megane - lol.

Lean And Mean - also lol.

Jerkass - he is. Sometimes Jerk With A Heart Of Gold.

Facial Markings - the wave on his nose and the solar marks under his eye.

Power Tattoo - the Embrace (Gun Dragon's claws upon the shoulders.)

Fingerless Gloves - wears an archery glove that covers the pointing finger and thumb only.

Eccentric Artist - also outside of battle. Primarily a poet, draws sometimes.

Being Tortured Makes You Evil - by Chaos, after being possessed. Returned to being good-aligned after some time.

Brainwashed And Crazy - by Chaos, to obsessively hunt Kumo. Now recovered. Also Mind Rape.

Laser-Guided Amnesia - his memory loss and subsequent insane pursuit of Kumo mid-show.

Curse - according to his people's folklore, the unusual color of his hair.

Stress-Induced Mental Voices - happens a lot, bothin hallucinations and the Soil speaking.

Heroic Willpower - to stand strong against Chaos.

Dark and Troubled Past - everything about him. Everything. Also Born Unlucky - cursed from the start.

Sole Survivor - of Windaria's fall.

Last of His Kind - last Windarian.

Meaningful Name - Black Wind.

Rite Of Passage Name Change - from the nickname "Wolf" to his current name, as granted by his clan.

Driven to Madness - first somewhat by his pursuit of power, then more so by Chaos.

No Medication For Me - good luck getting him to medicate for his issues. Chances are it would not work anyway due to his altered nature.

There Are No Therapists - on Windaria.

Good Thing You Can Heal - gets injured or killed multiple times during his quest. Good thing he's immortal, right?

I Can Still Fight! - frequently, especially when Kumo is somehow involved.

Organ Dodge - his heart is no longer in his chest.

Wound That Will Not Heal - still feels a type of phantom pain where his heart once was - the surgery scar is the only scar that refuses to heal.

An Arm And A Leg - the Magun essentially removed his right arm below the elbow.

Arm Cannon - the Magun.

Artificial Limbs - the Magun, replacing Kaze's right arm.

Handicapped Badass - despite possessing only one hand (when Magun not thawed).

Don't You Dare Pity Me! - Kaze and most of the Wind Warriors' culture in general.

All Are Equal In Death - as Soil.

Anti-Hero - also Pragmatic Hero.

The Cynic - self-explanatory.

Badass Creed - “From the Glory of Death, for the Glory of Life.”

Battle Cry - “Soil is my power!” Also Catchphrase and Calling Your Attacks.

Pre-Asskicking One-Liner - sometimes. "What is the matter with the Magun? Why won't you use it?"

Giving Someone the Pointer Finger - “The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!”

Big Brother Instinct - around Aura.

Parental Abandonment - never knew his parents, grew up on the streets as an orphan.

Summon Magic - Soil-Adherents train in Soil summonings - the Magun allows Kaze control over all summons, except ones of Mist.

Summoning Ritual - the Soil Charge Triad.

Offscreen Teleportation - played for comedic value. Is actually Soil Spiral teleportation, though.

Forced Sleep - induced by Kumo, causing Kaze to slumber for twelve years. Sleep, bitch!

Mage Marksman - self-explanatory.

Warrior Poet - "The gilding of a blood indomitable... True Sanguine."

Religion is Magic - the Soil poetry is sacred to Windarian summoners.

Dark Messiah - as the Dark Unlimited, Hunter of Chaos.

Duelling Messiahs - him and Kumo, who fits the light end of the spectrum. But will Makenshi's purity serve him? Hmm...

In Love With Your Carnage - You can kill efficiently and potentially kick his ass? Hot. Also Power is Sexy.

Magitek - the Magun and all its summons.

Human Alien - Windarians, Kaze's species. Also Proud Warrior Race.

Martyrdom Culture - the Missionary caste Soil-martyring for the Adherents.

#[[headcanon #[[muse meme #what the fuck am I doing? I dunno

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swordmaid · 4 years

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Hi! I really value your insight into Brienne, and I would love to pick your thoughts. So I noticed that in response to the parts of the fandom that downplays Brienne gentle, romantic side, Brienne fans have really been emphasising that part of her. However, I feel that it almost gone too far in the other direction, and now there is this attitude that Brienne would have chosen the life of a traditional lady with few, if any, regrets, if she had been beautiful. Here is where I struggle.

Brienne has been alienated from the role of lady due to her looks and size, but her decision to become a knight would have faced no more positive reinforcement. If anything, she would have faced more hostility. Westeros is a patriarchal, militant culture where strength is inherently linked to martial power. In becoming a knight, Brienne challenged masculine power, inciting not just ridicule, but disgust and revulsion, and violence born of anger. Therefore, the school of thought that

Brienne only became a knight because she felt she couldn't be a lady doesn't work because she would have been made to feel equally unfit to be a knight due to her gender. That she fought against these views to be a knight shows she feels a clear affinity for the role. Her match with Wagstaff, where she overcame her shyness to fight for her right to continue baring arms, speaks of that true desire.

So becoming a knight as a consolation prize does not fit Brienne's character, or Westeros as we know it. She truly wants both. Family and romance and music, but also to bear arms and fight for justice. As she feels that in becoming a knight she has lost the chance to be a lady, her sadness over that is more poignant, but her desire to be a knight is evident in her actually living that life, despite the roadblocks in her way. Sorry for the ramble! Would love to hear your thoughts. :)

OH thank you so much for sending! I love any chance where I can talk about Brienne lol. Brienne IS about the duality of being both the knight and the lady first and foremost. Even with imagery behind her: the pink and the blue, sun and the moon--hell, even with the castles in Tarth--Evenfall and Morne--it’s all about duality co-existing in one space. That is the epitome of Brienne’s character communicated through imagery. She is both the lady and the knight and I believe her personal story is about achieving that imagery because so far she jumps on one side of the spectrum and never anywhere near the middle.

Rest under the cut because it gets a bit long!

Though I believe that she chose to be a knight because she thought her body would be more fitting for it, there is this quote in her AFFC chapter: ‘[...] but a rose was no good, a rose could not keep her safe. It was a sword she wanted. Oathkeeper’ that I always found rather interesting and if anything, indicates WHY she chose to pursue to leave behind the life of being a lady and pursue being a knight. Brienne is powerless as a lady. She’s already deemed a failure from the start: she’s too big, too ugly, too clumsy, she stumbles over her words, she’s graceless, etc. etc. Society had already deemed her a failure because she fails to live up to the expectation of what a highborn female should look like, and she’s deemed a failure even more when she can’t perform like one. Her encounter with Ronnet and his rose is basically society indicating what happens if she tries to perform that role: after she gets judged for her appearance and mannerisms, she WILL get mocked and humiliated because they already decided from the start that she doesn’t fit that role. And I think Brienne realized that if she can’t be the lady then she’ll be the knight in the songs instead. Hence her training with Goodwin and her using her body for what it’s good for. So the next time around when Wagstaff came along and tried to humiliate her the way Ronnet did, she had something to defend herself with instead of just standing there and accepting their mockery.

I think that’s the biggest point as well, and that’s the difference between her choosing to be the knight than the lady. Because when she’s a knight---even if she gets mocked or ridiculed, she is able to defend and protect herself. The playing field evens out a little bit. When her maidenhood gets turned into a bet, she beats up all those men who played a part in it in the melee. She can defend for herself when she gets thrown into a bear pit, she can defend for herself when she meets the man who captured her before and threatened her with rape. When she was still a lady, she could do none of that; only stand there and accept the humiliation they were giving her.

And it’s just as you said: she’s not FIT to be a knight too, in a sense. Even if she’s a knight, she essentially longs for her home and wonders what her life would be like if she didn’t run off to Renly’s campaign. Even if she’s out there acting as a knight, she’s still very much the lady. Not to mention that her prowess, how she serves, the oaths she takes, etc. they don’t matter because Society still sees her as a woman. Jaime--one the best swordsman in the Seven Kingdom-- hails her as good when he was fighting her but Society doesn’t acknowledge that because her is what they see first. Even when she was in Renly’s campaign she had to WIN her chance of being a part of Renly’s campaign even though she proved that she was better than the knights there. Brienne as a knight has to constantly prove her worth to everyone she meets because her gender is an ever present shroud that clouds the judgement of others, which I find a really interesting contrast to Brienne being the lady who is INSTANTLY judged worthless because her appearance becomes said shroud. She’s not one or the other because Society tells her she doesn’t fit in those roles: She’s too freakish to be a lady, too woman to be a knight. And right now, Brienne is leaning on the ‘knight’ side of the spectrum but she essentially belongs in the middle and I think her personal story is about finding that balance.

Which is why I really like her with Jaime and why my favorite scenes with them is the Bear Pit and the White Tower in ASOS. I like the Bear Pit because it’s essentially boiled down fairy tale trope: lady is being attacked by a monster and the knight comes in to save her but it’s.....twisted and made crude and wrong. Brienne essentially becomes the lady in the songs except it’s made to be a mockery. She gets fitted into an ugly pink dress that doesn’t fit her---mildly unrelated but DON’T get me started on the way george ACTUALLY dressed them to fit the part. Brienne in a dress and Jaime in armor---which is SO significant because before Brienne had always been taking the role of the protector---essentially the knight-- to Jaime especially when they were captured by the Brotherhood. In those parts, Jaime was the lady that was distressed while Brienne was the knight who aids her. Jaime acknowledges her to be his protector, and it is shown in his Weirwood dream where he’s left alone in his doom with no one else but Brienne protecting him. But in the Bear Pit, the roles essentially gets switched--Brienne is the lady, Jaime is the knight who comes to save her but the fairy tale is all so WRONG and it’s so good lol. Jaime tries to defend her but Brienne is still defending him and in the end, they got saved by Steelshanks and his crossbow. On the opposite end with the White Tower Scene, here’s where they actually being the lady and the knight. Unlike the Bear Pit, it’s not made out to be crude or the mockery. It’s a knight and a lady, a sword and a quest. What’s interesting though is that the knight isn’t actively saving the lady, rather, giving her the tool so she’s able to save herself (and she DOES refer to Oathkeeper as sort of her safety blanket. The sword being the very thing that can protect her however it’s meaning gets twisted by the end of feast but I’ll talk about that in a different post because it’s not relevant lol) Jaime is not forcing her to be one or the other; he gives her the dress so she’s able to perform the part of being a lady without the ridicule she usually gets and he gives her the sword and the quest because she is that knight as well. Jaime acknowledges both sides of her and never makes her choose one or the other-- which is so important to her character because she’s always been forced to fill a role and when she does, it doesn’t fit her as well as she would’ve liked. 🥺🥺🥺

And as for the emphasis of Brienne’s more feminine side, I think that’s too contrast the all too familiar characterization of Brienne being just a knight/or just Sansa’s sworn sword. I do believe that if Brienne were--say, beautiful or someone that looks average (less freakish), I don’t think she would’ve pursued the life of a knight because the only reason she did is that she was able to defend herself. Her physique and size is more suited for battle and so she used it accordingly, and she turned out to be really good at it. But even with her prowess, she still has the desires to become a lady though she’s been pushing it away. There’s this part--I forgot which chapter it came from--but a scene where Brienne psyches herself up to ask these people and she mentions something along the lines of, ‘if she was too scared to talk to these people she might as well trade her sword for her knitting needles’. I think that indicates how much she TRIES to fit herself into this role of a knight, and tries to convince herself that the life of being a lady is unattainable because of how much she’s been judged and deemed as a failure by Society.

I think it’s not really the fact that she wants to be a knight, rather, she wants to live a life where she’s able to defend herself and her own worth. She’s able to do that when she’s a knight but she doesn’t fit in that role exactly. Her ideals of what a true knight should be is very black and white, very based on the songs that she so wants to be a part of. I think her plot with Stoneheart and the reason WHY she’s the one who found out about Jaime’s kingslaying is meant to challenge those ideals but rather than turn her away from the role of the knight, it would allow her to actually understand what being a knight is thus letting her to fit herself on that role more fully because she actually understands what she’s signing up for. And with the presence of Jaime for their recent chapters, I hope the side of Brienne the lady gets explored and fleshed out too because currently it’s being repressed.

#i hope this makes sense ?? !!!!!!#but ty for the ask! i LOVE talking about brienne and if u want me to elaborate more #on certain points pls lmk i'd love to do that hehe #Anonymous

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seizethecringeofproduction · 3 years

Text

New Years - Saints Row Fanfic

Featuring: @kiyumiakuji @shuyaakuji @hirokiakuji & @tomoyukiakuji

Is a Ronin Centric Fic; Contains a bit of trolling at the start

2008/1/1 | 8:30 AM

The cool winter breeze flowed gently through the streets of Tokyo throughout New Years’ Day 2008, the first day of January as well as the new year. Even though the sun was just now rising over the western horizon, the city had never been asleep for a second - traffic was still bumper to bumper while the streets themselves were littered with crowds of people walking here and there, be it to their place of work or just to some hangout spots. True that some spots were not as busy as others, but no matter where one went it was still Tokyo. Flashing signs and billboards littered the streets and the sides of the various tall buildings - from high rises to skyscrapers, delivering advertisements to viewers which ranged from the mundane to the far more known wacky if not eccentric type; especially popular were those for that new game show, the one with that pink cat professor that was taking the country by storm.

However, it wasn’t fun, games and heavy traffic for everyone in Tokyo that morning. Case in point being the rather dull boardroom of Tatsubishi - a conglomerate based in the metropolis that is best known internationally for their automobile manufacturing and distribution; ranging from SUVs, Trucks, Cars, Motorcycles and extending even to the likes of helicopters, airplanes and more, it was a name that plenty of people throughout the world would have least heard one time in their lives. What may not be as widely known about it however was the fact that the entire corporation had a rather insidious darker side - seeing as how it was the front for the dreaded Yakuza Oyabun known as Kazuo Akuji. The man was known and feared throughout all of Japan as not only one of the most ruthless businessmen, but also one of the most brutal Yakuza leaders. The crimes which are alleged to be traced back to him are among the most horrifying in Japan’s history, many bodies mysteriously found in rivers throughout Honshu are said to be of those who wronged him. That is, if there’s even a body at all. With a decade spanning career in both the business and criminal worlds, Kazuo is as respected as he is feared. His name instills both honor and dread into those who hear it, as one most certainly does not want to hear it outside of a positive context.

Though it was no secret that the man was not getting any younger. Many debated just how old he was, but regardless of the specific age he was old. Most knew only that he was at least late 70’s or early 80’s. While most of his body, hidden beneath his blazer suit, was littered with innumerous tattoos befitting an oyabun of his caliber, the parts of him that were visible to the naked eye were still very much wrinkled. He seemed to look both perpetually irritable as well as tired - and to be fair, much of the time that would be considered an accurate description of his mood. His hair, long ago a rich shade of black was long since greyed. He still had a full head of it, but it had receded some since the bloom of his youth. While most of his body had seemingly taken a withered and somewhat frail appearance, he was still nevertheless considered to be a mighty swordsman - more than capable of defeating even a much younger man in battle even in spite of the fact his joints would very likely give him hell not long afterwards.

Point was though, he was in the evening of his life. Soon, would be the eternal night. The only surprise left for a man his age. Sitting at the head of the board room with all of his underbosses sprawled about before him, all he saw were men who a few decades ago were introduced to him as the young sons of those who sat before them. Granted, these men themselves were not spring chickens either - most of them were at least in their 30’s or 40’s and at most in their 60’s, but all of them had in common the fact their one and only oyabun during their lives was none other than Kazuo - the man sitting before them on that very day.

Thinking over this fact with a contemplative sigh, he realized one thing that had been on his mind for the past 18 years. That the day he had long since been waiting for had finally arrived. It was time for his own next in line.

As he stood up, he didn’t need to make any sound at all. The entire room of underbosses and bodyguards fell entirely silent - all eyes instinctively turning to Kazuo himself as he moved, his eyes scanning the entire room to ensure their attention before he even began speaking. Not even a cough was made, nor a sip of tea. Any such disrespect would have been grounds for very swift ‘discipline’. Cupping his hands behind his back once the silence of the room was truly deafening, only then did the old man finally speak what was on his mind:

“Gentleman, this has been a very pleasant meeting. I am very proud of the work you have all done over the previous year - the clan has grown ever more honored as it is feared throughout Japan. I have been the oyabun of this organization for longer than most others of my rank have been alive; let alone operating free of imprisonment. I have seen as many of you and your fathers go as I have the winter change into spring, and spring into fall. I have fought in wars, I have married, I have had three children and three grandchildren. I have turned my clan into one of the most powerful and influential not only in our corporate world - but in our criminal world as well.” he then had a particular pause as he finally arrived to the true point of his speech, “However…” he said, “I have come to the decision that there will be more changes this year than simply the succession of my subordinates; I myself will be stepping down as your oyabun.”

His words elicited many wide eyes from all of his underbosses, as well as chills echoing down their spines. Even the famed - and bald - swordsman Jyunichi, standing right behind the old man, was surprised to hear the words. While none of them said anything, they looked at each other in bewilderment, their discussions being as silent as the room itself when Kazuo wasn’t talking. Only when he began speaking again did their attention sharply turn back to him.

“I know that this change is most unprecedented, but after many months - years even, of rumination over it, I have come to the conclusion that it is for the best. My retirement shall be effective as of the first of this April, giving you the next four months to become adjusted to my chosen successor; my son.”

With one of Kazuo’s hands now gesturing towards the double doors used to enter the room, all eyes were promptly on said doors as they - as if on cue, flung open for just a few seconds as another figure entered the room. It was, of course, a young man. A very much younger man than Kazuo, though. In fact, the man was no older than 18 - just barely an adult.

Actually, he was technically 17, though only until April. That was not a coincidence.

His face was completely devoid of wrinkles, and his hair was entirely jet black and slicked back in a ‘respectful’ style. His body was slender - toned well by regular exercise. Even as he stood there dressed in a black blazer suit complete with black power tie that featured a golden dragon etched onto it’s ‘tongue’, while he vaguely looked like his father one would not have guessed their actual relation in a million years. Yet this baby faced, smooth skinned boy was in fact the oyabun’s son. All of the underbosses stood from the seats and promptly gave this late teenager his due respect by bowing in his presence as he walked to be right beside Kazuo - the son exchanging a respectful bow of his own to Kazuo, his father saying to him;

“My son, you have little idea of how long I have waited for this day to come. Counting only the years since you have been born, it has been only eighteen. But counting the years before, it has been since I first became oyabun.”

Looking to his father with the utmost respect, the son returned his sentiments:

“It is an honor to be your successor, father” he bowed again, “I will continue leading the clan to greatness, just as you have before me.”

“I know you will,” the old man replied, “I am the one who trained you. Now..” he then gestured towards one of the open chairs directly to the side of his own, “Let us sit and endure the rest of this meeting, my son.”

2008/1/1 | 1:55 PM

“So how’d it go?”

“Well, I’m going to be the oyabun as of April. Aside from that, most of it was uneventful; talking about finances and operations.”

“Hold on, you’re going to be the oyabun? That’s your birthday gift this year? All he ever gets me is money, literally just money!”

“Don’t worry, Shogo, you know you’re basically going to be my right hand man once I’m in that seat.”

“I know, Hiro, but still! You’re going to be the boss of the entire Akuji Clan!”

“I know, it’s a big responsibility, and an honor. That’s why he’s waiting until April to step down, he wants me to see how he handles things up close before making the switch completely. After that, I won’t have any training wheels.”

The two young men speaking along the side of a kinokuniya international shopping center, and in fact leaning against the walls of said store, were identical twin brothers Hiroki and Shogo Akuji - the sons of Kazuo. Hiroki being the one introduced as his successor mere hours before, though no longer dressed as prim and proper as he was before. He now had a pair of black jeans on rather than silk slacks, with his pants held up by a black leather belt with a dragon styled buckle. Over his smooth body was a yellow polo with a popped collar and white undershirt - and his hair was no longer slicked back but now worn down in a more spiked and ruffled style. His shoes were even exchanged for a pair of black tennis shoes, and around his neck was a golden ‘lucky’ 5 yen coin; all of these clothes and features were copied fully by his brother Shogo save for one - resting on Hiroki’s forehead was a pair of yellow designer sunglasses with black lenses, while on Shogo’s rested a pair of the same brand colored white.

The two brothers stood in that parking lot in the early afternoon, leaning with their backs and one foot each on the wall of the store, the other feet on the concrete ground beneath them as they enjoyed this most casual conversation - the day around them being quite beautiful. The breeze was still very much a cooled winter wind, and the sky was cleared of clouds; it’s blue color joined with the light of the sun to illuminate the entire city of Tokyo in a vibrant and joyous form of brightness.

“Honestly, Hiro” Shogo spoke plainly to Hiroki, “I don’t think you even need those training wheels.”

Smirking, Hiroki gave Shogo a certain cocky look as he retorted:

“I see you’re already brown nosing.”

“No, I’m being serious,” Shogo answered back in a quick yet blunt tone, “You’re totally ready to handle the family business on your own. I mean, it’s basically what he prepared you for the entirety of your life..” and for a moment, Shogo bowed his head in a moment of sudden melancholy that his brother quickly noticed even as the younger twin muttered beneath his breath “Unlike me…”

Placing a hand onto Shogo’s shoulders, Hiroki spoke to his brother in a serious tone of his own:

“Shogo, you’re going to be my-”

“No, I’m not” Shogo interrupted Hiroki, walking away from the store wall, hands in his pockets before he took a deep breath and faced his twin again, “I’m leaving Japan after our birthday this year.”

“What?”

“I’m heading to America” the younger Akuji elaborated, “There’s this place that’s going through total anarchy right now after one of their previous gangs died off, I heard about it from eavesdropping this morning on one of father’s calls. It’s that place those people he wanted to buy parts from come from, I did some research and it’s prime real estate for gangs right now.”

“And you’re thinking of setting up your own gang there?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Wow” Hiroki bounced his brows a bit, remarking “And you did this all without consulting me? What happened to us doing everything together, brother?”

“Well, I hatched this plan during you and father’s meeting today and was gonna bring you into it like always, but…”

“It’ll be difficult while I am the oyabun.”

“Yeah….it would....”

The two brothers then shared deep breaths, sighs. The realization that things were changing between them wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, often Hiroki was all Shogo had through his youth - seeing as how Kazuo would often leave Shogo alone while he spent time with Hiroki, and their sister being a teen girl at the time was not interested in giving her younger brothers much company. After their mother died, Shogo came to cherish the times when Hiroki was with him, allowing him to escape from the fact that Kazuo all but neglected his existence save for when it was time to be mad at him or berate his lifestyle choices. Yet now the brothers were growing up, and while Shogo would love to rule the family organization at his brother’s side - he also wanted to spread his own wings and make a name for himself,rather than only live in Hiroki’s shadow. Perhaps in time, their father would be proud of both of his sons rather than only his first.

Yet still, they were brothers. Though it hurt both of them to an extent, they both understood each other’s needs and desires - though it was hard for him to fully understand, Hiroki understood without being told what Shogo desired more than anything else. Approaching him and placing a hand to his shoulder, the older twin said:

“Well, brother, I look forward to working with you and your gang, even from a few thousand miles away.”

Smiling at his brother giving his approval and nodding as he patted Hiroki on the shoulder as well:

“Thanks, Hiro.”

“Of course, Sho” Hiroki replied, “Besides, lord knows we both need to move out of that crazy house.”

“Speak yourself” Shogo answered before replying with a rejuvenated cocky tone, “If I were, I’d tell Kiyumi to buy her own place and kick her ass out as soon as I get the chance. That place is pretty bitching.”

Smirking and even nodding as he genuinely imagined the scenario which his brother planted into his head, Hiroki’s only response was an agreeing:

“That is also an idea.”

The two brothers then shared a laugh with each other at that moment as they both looked out to the streets surrounding them, as well as all of the people walking and driving about who paid them no mind at all. Shogo couldn’t help but remark:

“To think” he quipped, “You can become the oyabun, but you take an hour on Pumpkin Hill.”

“Oh shut up, ‘How was I supposed to know about the air necklace’.”

“Well, at least we both kinda suck at Yakuza, I guess,” Shogo laughinly confessed, “Though I’m pretty sure I beat the first game before you did.”

“Only because we shared a save file and it happened to be your turn at the time, Sho!”

“Fair enough, but you know one thing I know for a fact you can’t beat me at?”

“What?”

“Getting back on my bike first!” Having been looking right towards him and his brother’s parked kanedas right by the sidewalk on the other side of the avenue road facing them - right in front of a building they liked to refer to as ‘MaxMara’ due to the sign on the front of it. Shogo then darted right towards his - the one that was silver colored with etched in dragon decals and accents of glowing yellow lights throughout it’s form. Hiroki’s was of course, golden colored.

Accepting his brother’s offer for a race, Hiroki soon darted right after him:

“Alright, but you know that getting on is only the first leg of the race!”

“You’re on!”

Managing to quickly break into a sprint as he crossed the street, Hiroki was able to catch up to Shogo in a surprising amount of time as they ran through the parking lot with youthful vigor, Hiroki’s last words before he would have overtaken Shogo being:

“I’m catching up to you, Shogo!”

“Not anymore, Hiro-”

BAM

All it took was a single moment

The loud echoing sound of a gunshot from a tall building located just across the street from the store could be heard from some feet away, though the form of the gunman could only be seen fleeing the rooftop for but a fraction of a second. By the time he had actually heard the shot itself, Shogo had just planted his body down onto his kaneda - and excitedly proclaimed victory:

“Ha!” he laughed, “I won leg 1! Get ready to….Hiro?” the first thing Shogo noticed was that his brother was neither on his bike, nor standing behind him. Instead, much to the younger brother’s horror, he was laying on the ground - a pool of blood forming on the concrete just beneath his head. The left side of Hiroki’s head was marred by what looked like a line of flesh and hair torn right open, with the tip of his left ear being blasted clean off. Blood was absolutely covering the entire left side of his head, though also along the ground were chunks of what was no doubt his skull bone. Despite the occasional twitch, it was clear that Hiroki was not conscious by any stretch of the word - and just looking at the scene, Shogo feared the absolute worst.

“Hiroki!” Without any hesitation at all, Shogo ran towards his brother and almost tripped onto the ground once he knelt down close to him at the speed he had been going. With one hand he scooped up his brother’s head while the other tried to shake Hiroki’s head, desperately trying to just get his brother’s eyes to open; “Hiroki! Wake up! Wake the fuck up, Hiroki!” he couldn’t help but then lash out at the crowd forming around him, “What are you looking at?! Why are you just standing there?! Someone call the fucking ambulence!”

Looking at Hiroki’s face at this moment, in broad daylight, Shogo could see not only the coat of blood dripping from the side of his own brother’s head, but also the heartbreaking fact that his brother was not making any response at all. Whatever he was, he was not asleep. Tears formed from Shogo’s eyes as he realization was striking him oh so hard:

“Don’t die on me, Hiroki” he said while trying and failing to hold his tears back, “Don’t you fucking die on me, Hiro!”

Shogo was able to overcome his tears for long enough to call medical professionals himself, though he shook as he dialed the number - cursing every time he accidentally dialed them incorrectly. He wasted very little time in yelling the moment he had the operator on the line:

“Get the fuck over here! My brother was fucking shot in the head by some, by some fucking assassin or hitman or something! Get over here now, he’s bleeding to fucking death!”

“Okay, okay, sir, I need you to tell me where-”

“I’m, we’re, by the curb on Aoyama-dori Avenue!” Shogo tried to speak more calmly, though he still was in an incredibly frantic tone, “Right in front of that building with the MaxMara sign on it, you know, the Mar’s building! Just, get here fucking quick before he dies!”

“Okay, sir, we have ambulances heading for your location right now, but I need you to please try to remain calm-”

“Remain calm?! My brother is dying in my arms right now!”

“I understand sir, but it will be best for both of you in this situation. I suggest please finding some kind of tourniquet to slow or stop the bleeding-”

Before the lady on the other end even finished, Shogo quickly gasped as he realized he had completely forgotten that. Without even thinking he removed his polo shirt, leaving his body dressed only in the white sleeveless shirt he had underneath. He didn’t care about any of that though, how he looked for once was last on his priorities list - instead he just tied his polo tightly as he could around his brother’s head, desperately trying to do anything he could to slow down the bleeding. He could see the deep stains forming across the fabric even while still tying and tightening it - and it was a hard sight for him to look at. He was no stranger nor fearful of blood, but he was also not ready to watch his brother die. Just beginning to hear the sirens approaching, he looked in their direction with a renewed sense of relief as he said to Hiroki:

“It’s alright, Hiro, I’m not gonna let you die. They’re gonna have you up and walking in no time, I know they will. They have to...you’re gonna wake up...you hear me? You’re gonna wake up…”

Please wake up….

F-Father!

Shogo? Why are you calling me. How much do you need me to pay to get you out of your problem now?

This isn’t anything to do with me, father!

Then what is it Shogo?

It’s Hiroki...he’s in...he was...he’s in the hospital right now!

….

Which hospital?

2008/1/1 11:30 PM

There was a most uncomfortable silence in the hospital room on the night of January 1st, the day of the fateful gunshot. Hiroki now had proper bandages across his head, a respiratory mask across his mouth and IV’s in his veins to keep him alive - though his eyes remained closed in what only looked like the purest and most silent of sleeps. Kazuo himself sat in a chair right beside his bed, gazing at Hiroki’s motionless form with a look that had innumerous emotions running through it at once. The chief among them being shock, grief and utter rage. From the moment he had finally gotten it out of Shogo what happened, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind what had happened - he knew exactly who did this. Who would target his heir in broad daylight like this, killing him in one of the most dishonorable ways imaginable; on a holiday no less.

He repeated the name many times in his head…

Wong.

Wong was the only person Kazuo could think of who not only had a motive, but also the willingness to strike that which Kazuo prized the most. As much as the oyabun understood very well why Hiroki was targeted, he had neither sympathy nor tolerance for it. Watching solemnly as Hiroki fought with all he could to stay alive, it was a sight that no father wished to see in their lives. It was a sight that made Kazuo’s blood boil knowing in his heart and mind who was responsible, wanting nothing more now than to see Wong be put into the ground for this transgression.

With every beeping of Hiroki’s heart monitor, Kazuo’s rage grew beyond his own expectations. Put bluntly, it would be within Wong’s best interests - if one were to ask Kazuo, if Hiroki made a full recovery.

So far however, none of the doctors or nurses were confident in the chances of that happening.

Seated across from Kazuo in the room, the scene was not much different. Shogo waited, covered across his arms and torso in the now dried blood of Hiroki from earlier. His eyes were wide in fear, and body shaking. He could hear the beeping of the heart monitor on account of the door being opened, and was deathly afraid that any moment soon he would hear it flatline. Only by a miracle did that not happen yet. Sitting next to him was the rest of the immediate family - that is to say his older sister and her children. Jyunichi was standing guard by the open door.

As for the sister sitting next to Shogo, Kiyumi was a 25 - going on 26 in February, year old woman. She has been described before as the spitting image of her late mother, though very unlike her in personality. Her hair was long and straightened, and her slender, figured and beautiful young body was dressed in a golden dress - with matching heels and a black designer leather jacket to cover herself in the winter cold. She only looked so fashionable and had makeup one because she was out shopping at the time of Kazuo furiously calling her. Sleeping on either side of her lap were her youngest children, Tomoyuki and Mitsuko. A boy and girl respectively, twins of four years old, to be five in June. On the far side of the bench, next to his younger sister, was Kiyumi's first born - her 9 year old son Shuya, though he will be 10 come November. While not asleep like his siblings, he still sat there surprisingly quietly; largely on account of being bored and increasingly tired.

Speaking of which, that was a reason why eventually Kiyumi quietly stood up - waking up her younger kids and prompting them to softly whine and rub their eyes as she walked towards Kazuo, softly whispering to her father:

“I mean no disrespect father, but my children should be returning home now; it’s getting late and school starts up again as soon as next monday.”

Kazuo first responded with a sigh, looking to Hiroki one last time before looking to his daughter;

“Go. I am not forcing you or them to stay. Just leave me in peace.”

Giving her father a respectful bow, she then turned back to her kids as she began walking towards the door - gesturing for them to follow her. Shuya got up first, followed by the younger two. However, it wasn’t long before Tomoyuki with another whine said to his mother:

“Mother, I have to pee, can I go before we leave?”

Followed not very long afterwards by his sister in a very similar manner:

“I have to pee too, mother!” she whined. Shuya rolled his eyes in annoyance, while Kazuo was too fixated on Hiroki. As such, Kiyumi centered her gaze onto Shogo as she spoke up just enough to grab his attention:

“Shogo” she said, he was at first startled because of his own mindful gaze being locked on Hiroki, though calmed once he realized it was his sister speaking to him as she continued with “Can you take Tomo to the bathroom while I handle Mitsu?”

At first, Shogo tried to deflect the order;

“Why don’t you just ask Jyunichi like you did a few hours ago?”

“Because Jyunichi is in the bathroom of his room right now” Kiyumi said, gesturing to the small room offered within the patient room itself. The door was currently closed. “He’s napping in it, since he needs to have as much energy as possible - father having assigned him to guard Hiroki 24/7, remember?”

“Oh...right…”

“Mother!” Tomoyuki whined again, this time a bit louder, “I really have to go!”

“Okay, okay” Shogo responded, standing up and taking the five year old’s hand, “I’ll take him.”

Leaving the room wasn’t easy for Shogo though, even with the preschooler basically leading him out. He still gave his brother one last look before he was back out in the hall, leading his nephew towards where he remembers the bathroom was. It must have been very weird for those few others in the hall at this hour to see a teenager with so much blood on him walking down the hall with a four year old in hand, let alone the mother so casually holding her daughter not far behind them, the eldest child trailing behind. Nevertheless, nobody said a thing about the sight.

Upon reaching the bathrooms, Kiyumi led Mitsuko right inside of the ‘ladies’ bathroom - and Shogo did much the same in regards to the ‘men’s. There wasn’t really much to it, being a public restroom and all. The room was tiled from the floor to the walls, and while it attempted to match with the white and sterile look the rest of the building had - albeit with a bit more blue, it being a bathroom used by men it had its share of grime and dinginess. On one side of the room was a line of stalls followed immediately by urinals - opposite to the row of sinks on the other side, as well as mirrors.

“Alright, so, you do know how to use a urinal, right Tomo?”

“Mmhm!” Tomo nodded, not even having to be told to walk on over to any urinal and begin fidgeting with his pants. Shogo decided to let him handle his business on his own, and turned away towards the sinks. It was then that he was staring right back at himself in the mirror. At his brown eyes, still looking as though they were in shock - and sporting dark circles beneath themselves from how tired they were. The fact he only had his white tank top on, with it being covered in blood - just as his hands and arms were. Normally, he would take pride in that - but knowing this was the blood of his own brother, he couldn’t help but freeze at the sight. Memories of just a few hours ago flashed again in his mind - cradling Hiroki’s head in his hand, wrapping his polo around Hiroki’s head to stop his bleeding, even the ride to the hospital in the back of the ambulance; staying at Hiroki’s side right up to this very moment. He could picture it all as if it was happening in that moment right before his eyes.

Taking a breath, Shogo approached one of the sinks and decided to at least wash the blood off of his arms and hands to the best of his ability. It wasn’t hard to do, but it was hard to look at. Seeing the blood flow off of his limbs with the knowledge of who it all belonged to, it made him stare not at the mirror but instead at his hands as if in a trance. Shogo was not normally like this, if this was anyone else he wouldn’t even be here - but this was his brother. Not some ordinary person, and not some clan member who happened to get bumped off in front of him. This was someone he actually cared about, and one of the only people in his entire family who he felt truly was there for him these past 17-18 years. Not only did he feel lost, but he also couldn’t help but to feel even colder than he actually was as he looked after his now cleaned hands, tuning out even the sound of the sink’s running water as he just silently gazed down onto his palms - in this moment unsure of what to do anymore.

THUD

That sound, followed by the whine and cry of a small child, quickly diverted his attention. What he saw was something to no surprise, but too much irritation. Tomoyuki was on the ground, having been shoved into the wall of one of the stalls by none other than Shuya. Letting out a very irritated sigh, Shogo walked in between of the brothers - at which point Tomoyuki did manage to get up and hid behind Shogo’s legs for protection.

“Stop” Shogo said as firmly as he could, not having the patience for this right now, “Just, stop.”

Shuya was completely unmoved by Shogo’s tone of voice, and the words he said only egged his uncle on even more:

“He brought it on himself, he was taking too long to finish!”

“Kid, you can’t control how long you have to go” Shogo said, looking down at the petulant brat, “I get you’re tired and wanna go home, but have some fucking patience.”

“You mean like you did, waiting until this moment to become the next in line?” Shuya callously remarked with a smirk across his face as he watched Shogo’s reaction turn from annoyance into full anger, “I guess once we leave you’ll be sucking up to grandfather to seal the deal in?”

Shogo didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t even think. He only acted. His face now red with anger, his hands curled into a fist before he punched Shuya in the face. Shogo himself wasn’t the strongest person by any means, but Shuya being so smaller and even less of a fighter than him meant that the young boy was sent back - letting out a high pitched squeal as he fell to the floor, holding his eye in shock. Tomoyuki flinched at seeing the contact, having peered from behind Shogo’s leg. His mouth was actually agape as the reality of what Shogo did came over him; he froze, not knowing what to do in this situation. Shogo just looked down on Shuya with a face of silent rage, not feeling any regret at all for what he did - in fact, if anything he felt satisfaction over it.

Shuya, starting to immediately tear up as he held a hand over his now sore eye, sobbingly whined:

“I’m...I’m telling mother!” and with that, Shuya immediately ran out of the room - the door slamming behind him in his hurry. Only after it closed did Shogo realize what would likely happen now after what he just did, and let out a sigh. He then turned to Tomoyuki though, who had still been behind him up to this point - the boy flinched a little, but then Shogo in a softer tone asked him;

“You okay? No serious damage or anything?”

Shaking his head, the four year old replied “Nu-uh...I’m okay....”

“Okay” Shogo nodded, “Good.”

After a brief pause, and a bit of twiddling his fingers, Tomoyuki asked in a soft though concerned tone:

“Is….is Uncle Hiroki going to be okay?”

That was not a question Shogo was at all prepared to answer. He looked down at those big, innocent young eyes of his nephew for what felt like a while, desperately wanting to tell him ‘yes, duh’ yet knowing that he had no idea at all whether that was going to be the truth or not. Gulping and kneeling down to be level with Tomoyuki’s eyes, Shogo said the most truthful answer that he could:

“I hope so, Tomo. I really hope so.”

Tomoyuki without saying anything more than gave Shogo a hug, something which Shogo was not expecting - but he couldn’t help but feel a bit better. As ‘badass’ he wanted to pretend to be, he couldn’t deny that this sweet little moment made him feel at least the smallest bit better. Smiling for just a bit, he even patted the young boy on the back. It was a shame that this moment didn’t last longer than it did, because it was just as that face of his broke into that smile when it came crashing down.

Shouting from outside in the hall was the booming voice of his father:

“Shogo!” he yelled, “Attacking your own nephew?! Are you demented?! Must you shame me everywhere we go?! Get out here immediately!”

Shogo could only sigh.

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monkey-d-momo · 4 years

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Another swordsman

Title: Another swordsman

Characters: Zoro and Sanji

Disclaimer: The characters and the univers belongs to Eiichiro Oda

Notes: It is the translation of my fic Un autre épéiste. I wrote it back in 2019, but I translated it recently. It was edited by @nopleaseexplain

You can also read it on ao3 or ff.net

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“Oi! Sanji, I’m hungry!” screamed a young man with disheveled raven hair.

The apprehended man sighed in annoyance. It was at least the ninth time today that the captain repeated this sentence. Before answering, he put down the refreshment he was carrying to his ladies who were sunbathing.

“I know, I know!” he screamed back. “There’s a snack in the kitchen.”

In a cry of joy, he rushed out towards the stairs to go to the kitchen and while not paying attention to the swordsman who was in the way.

“Luffy, be caref…!”

The pirate collided with a green haired man. With the shock, one of the swordsman’s katanas flew out of its scabbard and started to fall towards the deck, exactly where the cook and the two women of the crew were. The protective instinct of the blonde flared up and without thinking, he caught the sword, stopping it in its fall.

“Shitty marimo bastard!” he screamed. “Be careful, you could have harmed Nami-san and Robin-chan!”

“You’re the bastard!” answered Zoro back. “You be careful with my sword, it’s not a toy!”

“Don’t worry marimo! It’s not the first time I've handled a katana!”

Sanji had spoken thoughtlessly. He didn't immediately understand why everyone went silent...and was looking at him with big eyes.

“What? What did I say?”

“Since when have you handled a katana?” the swordsman asked, clearly surprised by this new information regarding his rival.

The cook felt his heart stopping.

“Knife! I said knife” he tried to take it back, “I’m a cook!”

“No, you did say katana”Namie replied.

“Yeah, we all heard it clearly” Luffy added, finally showing up after everything.

All confirmed the captain’s words. Sanji cursed.

“So, care to explain?” Zoro asked eagerly. The one who wanted to be the best swordsman in the world was very interested that his rival in the crew could also use a sword, especially after defending the fact of not using his hands or a blade in combat and fighting only with his legs. And why was he trying to hide this at all cost ?

“It’s been a while” the blond replied. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

With these last words, he stuck the sword he still had in his hand in the ground and went to lock himself in the men’s quarters, slamming the door behind him and leaving the pirate crew speechless. The cook never acted this way.

“I think it’s a sensitive subject for him” commented Robin after a moment.

“Me, I’m hungry” declared the captain, going to the kitchen for a second time.

The common lethargy wore off and all resumed their activities. Zoro, however, was not finished. There was another swordsman on board, besides him and Brook, and he wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery.

He went downstairs to get back his katana before going to take a bottle of alcohol from the pantry. The cook would maybe be more prone to talk with some sake. His goal in mind, he entered the men’s quarters. The blond was lying down in his bed, using his hands as a pillow, looking up, lost in his thoughts. He still noticed the swordsman coming pretty quickly.

“Go away! I said I don’t wanna talk about it!”

“No.”

Sanji grew annoyed. “No what!?”

“I’m staying.”

He took a seat on his own bed which was right next to his rival’s – got to find out why it was chosen that way – and filled two cups of sake before offering one to the other man.

“You want to get me drunk so I’ll talk…”

“Maybe. But alcohol has always been good to keep bad memories away,” replied the green haired man.

The cook sighed before taking the cup and drinking it in one shot. “How did you know it reminded me of bad memories?” he asked after a while.

“It was the most obvious option,” Zoro replied, filling the blonde’s cup once again

“You’re not so stupid, it seems” Sanji mocked.

“And you’re trying to change the subject by starting a fight.”

“What a shame, it normally works.”

“Not this time. I’m serious.”

Indeed. The swordsman was looking at him in the eyes with a stern look. He was extremely stubborn and the cook knew that he would not drop the issue.

“Why do you want to know?” he sighed.

“You know why.”

Yes, Sanji knew. Despite their rivalry, the two men were like brothers. And he knew Zoro felt the same. When one was hurt, the other was hurt as well. He would not let go before the cook told him everything. It was his way of demonstrating his support and giving a little comfort.

The blond sat up in the bed. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. After taking a drag, he spoke.

“I won’t go into detail,” he started, “but my biological father is the head of an army..Basically”

“Your biological father!?” Zoro exclaimed, surprised. “You’ve never talked about him, I thought Zeff was your father!”

“Zeff is my dad. At least, I consider him as that.”

“And he’s at the head of an army? He’s a king?!”

“Yeah…”

“So, you’re a prince!? All my respect, your majesty” Zoro joked.

“Stop that,” Sanji said menacingly. He wasn’t in the mood for that. “I rejected my family long ago. I’m not a prince anymore.”

“Sorry, sorry. Go on.” To encourage him, Zoro served him another cup of sake. The cook looked at him suspiciously before accepting the cup and drinking it in one shot. He preferred wine, but at this moment, the rice alcohol was helping him feel better.

“So, my brothers and I…”

“You even have brothers!?”

“Yes, we’re four twins. And a big sister.”

“So, there are more like you?” Zoro laughed.

“No. I’m different.” The green haired man felt a hint of sadness in his rival’s voice. He didn’t like it. Sanji was obviously hiding a deep scar and he hated seeing that it was still hurting him. He filled the cups once more.

“Anyway. At a pretty young age, our father was training us to become commanders for his army” the blonde continued. “I was assigned as a swordsman. I trained for it until… I left my family.”

Zoro couldn’t believe it. His friend could have been a swordsman too. “How good were you?”

“Plain bad. Let’s just say my father wasn’t pleased about it.”

“What did he do?”

He shook his head. “I’ve said too much. Maybe another time.” He closed himself off. He wasn’t going to say any more, for now.

“Don’t worry. It’s in the past. You’re here now.”

Sanji looked up at the ceiling once more while laying down in his bed again. His rival did the same and the room became quiet. In the swordsman’s head, however, it was not quiet at all. He was really curious to know what his friend has been through and he was imagining so many scenarios. It wasn’t going to help him much. An idea popped in his mind.

“Let’s have a fight,”Zoro suggested, breaking the silence that had been going for few minutes now.

“We do that at least ten times a day, marimo.”

“I mean, a sword fight.” The concerned one looked at his crewmate like he'd grown a second head.

“Have you lost your mind? I’m not a swordsman! And I never use my hands while fighting, you know that!”

“A friendly sparring match,” he justified himself. “You’ll at least have a good memory of sword training.”

Sanji was speechless. He didn’t know what to do with the marimo’s proposition. The latter then handed him one of his katana.

“Come on!” he insisted “see it as a revanche on your father.”

The blonde’s heart squeezed. How did his friend understand how many scars his biological father left him with? He looked at the sword in Zoro’s extended hand. It was Wado Ichimonji. The young man’s biggest treasure. He was dead serious and had just given the cook a great sign of trust.

“Okay” he obliged, not able to say “no” any more. He took the katana and the two men went to the ship’s deck under the surprised eyes of their crewmates. The whole crew had fallen silent when the two rivals each drew out a sword.

Zoro noticed that Sanji’s position was perfect. His hands were holding the handle at a good height, the blade in front of him. His feet were at a good distance apart and his whole body looked like it was ready to parry any attack. Everything in him showed sword training. How had he not noticed before? How had he not made the link with his cutting skills when he was cooking?

The green haired man did not have time to think, the cook was coming with a front attack. He didn’t have any difficulties blocking it, but was surprised by the precision and the strength of the strike. He counterattacked, but the blonde saw it coming and parried it effectively.

The match went on for a few minutes before the two men stopped. The whole crew stayed quiet during the fight.

“You could have been a really good swordsman,” Zoro commented, “you got skills.”

Sanji knew his rival hadn’t used his full potential, but he knew that he wasn’t the type to give compliments out of nowhere.

“I’m leaving the role to you” he said back with a smile in his voice.

“Uhh.. can somebody explain this to me?” asked Usopp. The crew looked like they were waiting for the answer eagerly. They were obviously confused by the whole scene they just saw.

“No,” the swordsman replied. “It’s between the cook and me.”

Life on the boat went on, as lively as usual. In the evening, when Zoro went up to the crow’s-nest, he saw a bottle of sake and some perfectly sculpted onigiri.

----------------

Thank for reading!

#one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #zoro #roronoa zoro #sanji #zoro and sanji #zosan #my fic

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ryanmeft · 4 years

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Movie Review: Shadow

Zhang Yimou has taken the sort of plot that could occupy an entire TV mini-series and effectively told it in 116 minutes, replete with visual splendour and larger-than-life heroics which he somehow manages to balance with near-perfect grace. Like other films in the Wuxia genre, the specifics can be hard to follow, and I sometimes got lost on exactly who was supposed to marry, fight, mimic, and impress who. Things come full circle in the end, and along the way there’s more than enough massive ships rolling through tiny canals and battles with spinning bladed umbrellas to keep our eyes mesmerized.

In an indeterminate time and place, two kingdoms are in an uncomfortable stalemate. Pei seems to be a largely indoor kingdom, consisting of halls and courts done in the graytone colors of Yin and Yang. The cowardly and power-hungry King Peiliang (Zheng Kai) has an agreement with the militaristic kingdom of Yang, situated among mountains facing the ocean. Pei must have some wilderness and Yang must have courts and buildings, but Yimou and cinematographer Zhao Xiaoding have chosen the sterile, largely sunless halls of Pei to contrast with the open air latitudes of Yang for stylistic reasons. Those halls represent the paranoia of the crooked king, compared to the more straight-forward style of Yang’s leading general, Yang Cang (Hu Jun).

Like all bullies, Peiliang is weaker than he knows. His top swordsman and right-hand man Ziyu (Deng Chao) has challenged Cang to a duel to redeem his honor from an earlier defeat. This duel will also mean war between the kingdoms, and Peiliang fears his pampered lifestyle and power will be crushed by the stronger rival kingdom. Secretly, that is what Ziyu wants---or at least, the real Ziyu does. In a rather labyrinthine plot, the man we first see, Jingzhou, has been abducted at a young age and trained to mirror Ziyu, forced into slavery in the event Ziyu becomes injured. This he has done, and now hides recuperating in a concealed cave, his hair a bedraggled mess, his eyes those of an animal more than a man. He plots to overthrow the kingdom and take the throne. This is made easier when the king generates outrage by attempting to sell his sister (Guan Xiaotong) to Yang to ensure his own power.

This plot is, honestly, very convoluted, and you may find your eyes crossing after a while. No matter: as long as you’ve got the basics, you’re fine, because the movie is less about story and more about panache. From Peiliang’s first appearance, maniacally demanding that Ziyu/Jingzhou and Ziyu’s tired wife Xiao (Sun Li) perform music just so he can mock them for it, we know Yimou, as usual, is not dealing in half measures. Characters are painted in broad strokes and perform more like they are on stage than on screen. Peiliang is a villain worthy of a grand RPG: he struts, peacocks and gloats, inflicting his will on everyone in a desperate attempt to deny his own weakness. The real Ziyu is little better, as he takes out his anger at his physical decay on the man he abducted, forcing him to train constantly in order to do his bidding. The two baddies are absolutely detestable, in the grandstanding way of great screen antagonists. The story, co-written by Wei Li, is based on real people from 2nd and 3rd century to Japan, but it is hard to believe anyone was ever this magnetically flamboyant in real life.

Other characters are more along the lines of archetypes. Jingzhou and Xiao, in particular, are not very deep, so interest in them must be sustained through action. This has been accomplished through a mixture of special effects, choreography and cinematography. It is not possible, or at least it is highly dangerous, to physically do or create some of the things we see. The battle that is the centerpiece of the film involves weaponized umbrellas that protrude razor blades which spin like wheels, and the duel is surrounded by a larger battle with multiple competing forces and interests. It begins as a ship squeezes between the tight cliffs of Yang (the ship is conveniently designed to be exactly the right size), with Jingzhou waiting on top a large Yin-Yang emblem, and eventually expands to involve a massive charge in the gray rain down city streets. There are moments that seem more like something out of Mortal Kombat than real warfare, including a ridiculously fantastic scene of soldiers sliding down a street behind their knife-umbrellas. It hovers just this side of nonsense, in a good way. This is a bleak world, with muted colors and gray skies, and a little bit of over-the-top being injected creates an interesting contrast with the serious plot.

It could be said that if you’ve seen one film in this genre, you’ve seen them all, but that’s not quite right. Yes, there will always be insane stunt choreography and almost-too-convoluted plots, but Yimou is such an inventive artist that he could copy the same plot every time and find new and fascinating ways to show it to us, and we might never tire of it. In an age where lazy CGI handles, it seems, nearly everything, simply having someone use it and their natural visual skill to create something that feels artistic is more than enough of a treat to recommend repeated helpings.

Verdict: Highly Recommended

Note: I don’t use stars, but here are my possible verdicts.

Must-See

Highly Recommended

Recommended

Average

Not Recommended

Avoid like the Plague

You can follow Ryan's reviews on Facebook here:

https://www.facebook.com/ryanmeftmovies/

Or his tweets here:

https://twitter.com/RyanmEft

All images are property of the people what own the movie.

#zhang yimou #shadow #china #wuxia #movies #zheng kai #hu jun #zhao xiaoding #guan xiaotong #deng chao #wei li

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ofstormboys-blog · 4 years

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⧼ matthew daddario, cisgender male, he/him / old pine by ben howard + a lone black wolf standing on an overcast hill, thunder in the distance on a lonely night, the sound of rain through an open window as music softly plays, worn leather jackets, a loyal pet never leaving your side ⧽ ━━ don’t look now, but that’s GABRIEL O'CONNELL. the THIRTY-TWO (536) year old VAMPIRE has been here in seattle for NINE YEARS, and is considered to be a NOMAD. they’ve always been EMPATHETIC & MYSTIFYING, but i guess this town just brings out the worst in people ; apparently, they’ve been way more UNFORGIVING & DISTANT than usual. it wouldn’t surprise me if they knew what was going on. [ shiloh, twenty-five, cst, he/him ]

BASICS.

BIRTH NAME: unknown. CHOSEN NAME: gabriel beckett o'connell. NICKNAMES: gabe, beckett, beck. BIRTHDATE: september 21, 1483 ad. AGE: thirty-two (536). BIRTHPLACE: scotland. GENDER: cisgender male, he/him. ORIENTATION: bisexual biromantic. SPECIES: vampire, feeds on humans. OCCUPATION: artist. PORTRAYAL: matthew daddario.

PHYSICALITY.

HEIGHT: six feet, five inches. POWER: darkness manipulation, also known as umbrakinesis. gabriel can create, control, and shape darkness to his every whim and has in the past used his abilities offensively and defensively. gabriel can create structures of shadow that can vary in solidity but are not entirely bound by any certain laws. a construct made in the image of a gun will shoot a solid bullet of shadow, a wall of darkness will act as a shield, and tendrils of shadow can be used as deftly as his own hands and still slice through others like a sharpened blade. naturally his ability is weaker in sunlight but he can still draw upon darkness even then, though not to the same extent as if it were night. gabriel can see through shadows and even track others via their own shadow if he wishes, though the further a shadow the harder it is until they ultimately disappear if they get too far away. his most prominent use of his ability allows him to meld perfectly into shadows to become intangible and move between them from shadow to shadow. at night he can practically teleport through the darkness. of course, his ability does take its toll and without proper feeding he can find even the most simple use of the ability to be detrimental. ABILITIES: over the centuries gabriel has amassed a wide assortment of abilities. he is trained in the martial arts and has mastered nearly every form available, only stopping out of boredom than anything else. he is a skilled thief and detective, his skills are usually put to use when he feeds as he only feeds only those that harm innocent people. he is also a skilled archer and swordsman, though he is much more deadly than any human weapon and so he doesn't ever use the skills unless for show. his most accomplished talents reside in the arts as his way of making money. from music to painting, art has been his true passion for centuries. CLOTHING: dark leather jackets, wool sweaters and the occasional turtle neck, dark denim with leather boots, sunglasses to hide his eyes, an old ring from his best friend's noble house usually on his right middle finger, button ups with the sleeves rolled up, darker colors in general.

HISTORY.

(content warning: murder, slight descriptive vampire feeding, amnesia, loss of identity, imbalance and emotionally abusive relationships.)

the earliest memory he has is the waking from transition in the lap of his sire, hands stroking his hair. after this there is burning hunger, so white hot and his sire coos when he kills an innocent farm girl the second they step outside. he has no name - no home or family to speak of. his sire claims that they don't know of them, but they always call him sweet pet names like darling or beloved or dearest. on the bad days he is it or the man, something less than human and he has to work hard for the forgiveness of his maker in those days when he somehow earns their ire.

together they carve a bloody trail through europe but never stray close enough to italy. they feast on innocents every night, and for a time he relishes in the decadent debauchery and cruelty of it all because they look at him like he's the brightest star in the sky. in time he begins to question though - who is he really? he wants more than to just be a senseless killer.

in time, about half a century later, his sire grows bored of him - of the conscience starting to grow inside him. they tell him the ugly truth - they had courted for awhile when his sire manipulated their way into his family's home back before it all. when they were found out, instead of just leaving his sire had killed his whole family and turned him for the fun of it.

he fled his sire and didn't look back, content to be nothing but a senseless monster once more. that was when an older, more mature found him and literally as well as figuratively kicked his ass. in a way they adopted him and taught him how to be more than monster with no soul. they gave him a name and even helped him to at least discover he came from a long destroyed village in scotland.

eventually, gabriel found some semblance of peace in his situation - he could never regain what he lost but he could build something new.

TL;DR - gabriel was a scottish human living a simple life when his future sire shacked up in his family's home under the guise of a poor stranger needing safety of course, gabriel being young and easy, fell into bed with his sire while still human. eventually after catching said vampire in the act of feeding - his sire killed his family and turned him to be their new plaything. maybe it was the trauma of watching his family's senseless murder or outside forces but gabriel developed total amnesia about his identity - amnesia that would never fade in time. they made a mess of europe for some fifty years before the truth came out and gabriel fled only to be eventually found by his future best friend who would help him figure himself out.

MISCELLANEOUS.

AESTHETICS: a lone black wolf standing on an overcast hill, thunder in the distance on a lonely night, the sound of rain through an open window as music softly plays, worn leather jackets, a loyal pet never leaving your side, piano music in the early morning hours, low growling from a dark treeline, hooded figures protecting innocents from criminals, blood smeared across chiseled jawlines, calloused hands gripping supple thighs, bruised knuckles left bloodied, darkness creeping along arms, two red eyes staring in the darkness, a full moon on a moonlight night, claw marks on sweaty backs, the sound of a paintbrush on canvas, full libraries, perfectly tailored suits with fancy watches, paint stained hands, gently strumming a guitar, a lonely figure strolling on a rainy day. SOUNDTRACK: sky full of song by florence + the machine, old pine by ben howard, mr. sandman by syml, river flows in you by yiruma, i am not a robot by marina, medicine by daughter, broken crown by mumford & sons, the fear by ben howard, believe by mumford & sons, cover your tracks by a boy and his kite, all these things that i've done by the killers, darkness keeps chasing me by grace vanderwaal, the troubles by u2 featuring lykke li, cold by aqualung featuring lucy schwartz, arsonist's lullaby by hozier, the loved ones by sanders bohlke, ghosts by james vincent mcmorrow, thousand eyes by of monsters and men, i'll be good by jaymes young, an unkindness of ravens by sanders bohlke, in the woods somewhere by hozier, come back for me by jaymes young, short change hero by the heavy, beauty of the dark by mads langer. DOPPELGANGERS: jonathan reid (vampyr), stefan salvatore (the vampire diaries), edward cullen (the twilight saga), geralt of rivia (the witcher), angel (buffy), adaline bowman (the age of adaline), emma swan (once upon a time), bruce wayne (dc comics), elijah mikaelson (the vampire diaries), dean winchester (supernatural), matthew murdock (marvel comics), alice cullen (the twilight saga), magnus bane (the shadowhunter chronicles), alexander lightwood (the shadowhunter chronicles).

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

SIRE/PAST: the vampire that made it all happen. they're conniving and manipulate and seductive and totally bad for gabriel which would totally be fun to see play out in present day now that gabriel has an identity and self worth. SAVIOR: the vampire that saved gabe from himself. they're pretty much the lexi branson to his stefan salvatore tbh. DEFO NEED THOSE BFF FEELS. DESCENDANTS: it would be cool if somewhere down the line gabriel discovered he has living descendents - like maybe a sibling survived and went on to have children that passed on legends of the supernatural or something. BUYER/INTEREST: someone that buys his art but is also more than that. they actually push him and seek him out instead of letting him run away - they intrigue him and he finds himself wanting to actually know someone for once.

#equinox.intro #sometimes the world needs a monster. ( gabriel musings. )#hello all this is a mess !

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tabletopinfinities · 5 years

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7th Sea

Swashbuckling and Sorcery Piracy and Exploration Espionage and Intrigue Welcome to the New World

What’s the premise?

7th Sea is a world of swashbuckling fantasy, in a setting that’s very much like our Earth circa the Age of Sail, but filled with sorcery, monsters, and the mysterious ruins of a pre-human civilization. The core book focuses on Théah, the 7th Sea world’s equivalent of Europe, which is currently recovering from a bloody war between the traditional Vaticine Church and the reformist Objectionists and emerging into a new age of nationalism and humanism. Monarchs play games of espionage while secret societies work behind the scenes. Traders sail to the New World in search of exotic treasures and pirates follow in their wake. Some nations are even beginning to experiment with a bold new idea - democracy.

The technology level of Théah is slightly higher than our world’s was at the time, thanks partly to a Vaticine Church that values knowledge and discovery and also partly to ancient Syrneth artifacts that are centuries beyond human science. Sorcery and magic are not uncommon - but are primarily the domain of the nobility. Spirits, monsters, and other beings haunt the wild places, and any given folktale has a chance to be true.

The characters you play are all very explicitly Heroes, doing noble deeds to fight tyrannical Villains. The world of 7th Sea has a lot of problems besieging it right now - the looming specter of the Castillian Inquisition, the depredations of the Atabean Trading Company, the tyranny of l’Empereur du Montaigne, just to name a few. It’s a world on the brink of becoming something wonderful - it just needs a few good heroes to show it the way.

You’d like it if you’re into: The Princess Bride, Pirates of the Carribean, Zorro, The Three Musketeers, Brotherhood of the Wolf, old Errol Flynn movies

Why do you recommend it?

If you’ve ever wanted to swing from chandeliers, plunder treasure, cut feathers off caps with a swish of your rapier, and woo the fair maiden / handsome prince / other attractive individual, 7th Sea is the game for you. Magic and strange technology add a great twist to an otherwise straightforward historical fantasy.

7th Sea, the new 2nd edition in particular, is one of the most inclusive and welcoming mainstream RPGs out there. Women and people of color can be characters of all kinds, and queer, trans, and nonbinary characters are littered throughout the books and accepted within the setting itself. That, plus the emphasis on your character being a capital-H Hero, make 7th Sea an unapologetically wholesome game. It’s lighthearted and silly, while still allowing for serious dramatic moments.

Plus your character practically cannot die, no matter how much you screw up.

What are the rules like?

The core idea of 7th Sea is that you will almost always succeed at what you’re trying to do. You’re a Hero, after all. If you don’t roll well enough, though, your success might not be total. The way they mechanically represent this is very narrative-driven and plays quite differently from the standard RPG.

There’s three kinds of rolls to make in 7th Sea. The most basic, the Risk, is when your character is trying to bypass a simple obstacle. For instance, they might be trying to escape from a burning room. You decide what your character’s Approach to that will be, and what combination of skills and traits to use. In this case, they might use Finesse + Athletics to dodge and and jump over falling beams, or perhaps Brawn + Weaponry to use their axe to hack a hole in the wall, or even Panache + Tempt to bat their eyes at the fleeing henchman and tell him that if he rescues you, you’ll surely owe him a favor. Then you roll a d10 for each point you have in the chosen trait and skill. If you’re using a skill you haven’t used yet this scene, roll another die, and if you take the time to describe your action a little, roll a further die. Each set of dice you can add up to 10 is one success - here called Raises.

All it takes to succeed in the Risk is a single Raise. The catch is: there will always be Consequences and Opportunities associated with the Risk. You’ll need to spend additional Raises to either avoid the Consequences or activate the Opportunities. In this scenario, the consequences might be something like “take 3 damage from fire” - and each Raises you spend towards that will remove 1 damage from that. Or perhaps you’ll need to keep your clothes free of ash so you can sneak into the ballroom after like nothing happened. For Opportunities, it might be something like “grab the important-looking letter on the table before it burns” or “lead the poor henchman along enough that he switches sides.” So success or failure is never just binary - unless you roll really well, you’ll have to make some choices about what the effects of your actions on the story will be.

The two other kinds of rolls work in a very similar way. Action Sequences represent fights, chases, and the like, and Dramatic Sequences are extended challenges like sneaking into the castle or snooping around town to find information on the wicked viscount’s plans. You make your Approach, and then each character gets to spend Raises from their pool to take actions. As before, all you need is a single Raise to do something, but if a Hero and a Villain are trying to contest, whoever spends more Raises on it wins. During Action Sequences, you can spend Raises to do damage - yes, this means anything can be used as an attack skill if you’re creative enough (“I use Wits + Scholarship to whip up a gas grenade and throw it at her!”). Action Sequences can have Consequences and Opportunities just like a Risk can, including Brute Squads, which are the nameless flunkies your hero mows through without a second thought. A single point of damage takes out a single brute, but any brutes left alive get to deal damage at the end of the round. There might also be events that happen at certain points in the Action Sequence once everyone’s down to a certain number of Raises - the storm hits the ship at 4 Raises, and it hits the rocks and starts to sink at 1.

Dramatic Sequences are the same but paced over a more extended period of time, and are more about seeing how far you can get in your task before you run out of Raises. As before, each Raise you spend lets you change the scene in some way - climb over the castle wall, for instance. Next, you might have to spend a Raise to sneak past the guards, then to steal the jailer’s key. If you run out, though, you’ll be unable to change the scene any further - so after you’ve rescued your ally from jail and you hear someone’s footsteps approaching, if you don’t have another Raise left to hide you may just have to fight your way out.

Every character is pretty tough and can take a fair amount of damage before going down. For every 5th point of damage you take (or any time you get hit with a firearm, because those things are nasty), you take a Dramatic Wound. Your first Dramatic Wound actually helps you - just like the hero in an adventure story, you become driven to succeed and get a bonus on all your rolls. For your second Dramatic Wound, the tables start to turn and now all the Villains get a bonus on their roles. For the third, you get an even bigger bonus as your heroic determination kicks in - and then at the fourth, you become helpless. Not dead, just unconscious or incapacitated - it takes an explicit act from the GM to actually kill you.

Finally, there’s Hero Points. These work a bit like an expanded version of Inspiration from D&D 5E, and other similar mechanics. Basically, you can spend them for bonuses to your roll, a bonus to someone else’s roll, to fight on for a round after you’re incapacitated, and a few other things. You can also spend them to activate your Knacks, which are big character abilities with effects like “knock out an entire Brute Squad in one go” or Come Hither, which lets you lure a character into another room and return without them… no rolling required. Everyone gets one Hero Point to start, and you can earn more by acting in accordance with your character. You can also get one at any time by choosing to fail a roll - so if you think the odds are overwhelming, or you just want to see what happens if your character gets captured or can’t stop the villain’s plan from succeeding, you can just say “I fail” and bank up another Hero Point for the challenge ahead.

What’s my character like?

Your character is a Hero. They come from a particular Nation that gives them some bonuses, and they have two Backgrounds that tell you what their professions are/were and give them some bonus skills and Advantages, as well as determining what in-character actions give them Hero Points. They have a Virtue and a Hubris, each based off the Major Arcana of the tarot (or Sorte deck, in this world). The Virtue is a powerful special ability they can activate, and the Hubris is a character flaw that you can get a Hero Point for roleplaying. Beyond that, there are no classes per se - the character is yours to define as you see fit. Advantages are the main way of customizing your character and giving them special abilities.

You can choose to take Advantages join a Swordsman School or take Sorcery from your nation of origin. Swordsman Schools give you the option to do some fancy Maneuvers in combat, which let you hit for lots of damage, parry opponents’ attacks, etc, as well as a unique Maneuver for each school based on its preferred weapons and fighting style. The difference in combat effectiveness between a swordsman and a non-swordsman is huge, so if you’re planning on making a character that excels at combat, swordsman is definitely the way to go. You also get to be a part of the Swordsman’s Guild, who are legally allowed to challenge people to duels.

The Core Rules present character creation options only for the primary Théan nations - if you want to play a character from another culture, you’ll need the appropriate book. (See What books should I get?, below.)

Avalon, seat of the Triple Crown, is a green and enchanted land touched by the Sidhe - elves, faeries, goblins, and other creatures. The Sidhe are sometimes beautiful, sometimes hideous, always inhuman, and frequently downright nasty. Queen Elaine recently ascended to the throne after recovering the Graal, throwing off the yoke of Montaignois conquest and bringing the Sidhe back to our world - but now the Sidhe are starting to encroach on human lands. This is a land of faerie tales, and those don’t always end happily.

The other two nations in the Triple Crown are the Highland Marches, a craggy land of proud clans and chieftains, and Inismore, a land with a fondness for stories, whiskey, and a good bar fight. Neither of these two is necessarily happy about being part of the Triple Crown, and there’s a growing separatist movement looking to break the alliance, no matter how much gunpowder and blood it takes.

Avalon’s Sorcery takes the form of becoming one of the Knights of Ellilodd, each one the embodiment of an ancient knight of legend. In exchange for taking a vow to the Graal to be a righteous protector of justice, you can tap into that knight’s legendary powers. Should you break your vow, you’ll need to atone before you can regain your powers, however.

Castille is a sun-dappled nation with a deeply passionate people. They recently held off a Montaignois invasion at dear cost, only to fall under the yoke of the Inquisition. Cardinal Verdugo controls their young king like a puppet while he conducts a reign of terror across Théah aimed at rooting out anything he deems heresy. Castille is the seat of the Vaticine Church, and its people are often devoutly religious and very highly educated thanks to the nation’s excellent universities.

While Castille has no Sorcery in the Core Rules, Nations of Théah, Volume 1 introduces Alquimia as an option, letting you invent various alchemical and technological marvels and advancing along a path of self-improvement towards a grand goal.

Eisen was the center of the fighting between Vaticine and Objectionist, and it left the land a blood-soaked mudhole full of traumatized survivors, divided between small princedoms, some of which seek to unite the nation under their banner. Worse, something about the concentrated misery has spawned literal Horrors, monsters of all shapes and sizes that roam the land and prey on innocent victims. But the people of Eisen are a grim, determined lot, and the nation’s not ready to give up without a fight.

Eisen’s Sorcery, Hexenwerk, is a particularly gruesome art dedicated to refining potions and unguents from dead bodies - and then consuming them to gain powers to fight undead horrors and other foes. Hexen are often hunted down as grave-robbers, but they do what they have to do to survive and stop the Horrors.

Montaigne is often considered the center of Théan culture, or at least the Montaignoise themselves certainly think so. Their courts set the standard for fashion across the continent, and their nobles throw the most lavish parties. Unfortunately, all of this has been built on the backs of the peasantry, who have been pushed to their limit by harsh taxes and conscription to serve in L’Empereur’s frivolous wars. L’Empereur sits on his grand throne, surrounded by an endless party of gilded nobility, oblivious to the whispers of revolution coming from below.

Montaignois Sorcery is passed down through noble bloodlines, but it’s quite ungenteel. The art of Porté lets you rip bleeding holes in reality and slip through the space between to walk to other places, or to pull objects out of thin air. Just never open your eyes while you’re in-between.

The Sarmatian Commonwealth is actually two lands under a single crown - the cosmopolitan Reczezpospolitans, and the more traditional Curonians, who still venerate the old spirits. Recently, the king, disgusted with gridlock in the houses of parliament, made a proclamation of Golden Liberty. This made everyone in Sarmatia was now a noble with voting power, marking the beginning of a chaotic experiment in democracy. Some Sarmatians seek to lead their country into a populist new era, some try to take advantage of the chaos to seize power, and others, resentful of the new order, plot to depose the aging king.

Sanderis, the Sarmatian Sorcery, is about making deals with devils. Dievai, to be more precise. They’ll do anything you wish, from snuffing a candle up to unleashing a firestorm that destroys an entire city - provided that you are willing to pay their price.

Ussura is a massive, wild country with long winters and sparse civilization. The Ussurans are pragmatic and hardy folk, and highly superstitious with good reason - spirits both good and evil thrive in these lands. The greatest among them, Matushka, watches over the Ussuran people like an overprotective mother, rewarding the just and punishing the wicked. The Czar recently died under suspicious circumstances, leaving the nation divided by two potential successors - one dedicated to modernization, the other seeking to preserve the old ways.

Ussura’s form of Sorcery, Dar Matushki, are the gifts of Matushka herself - often given as the reward for overcoming painful lessons. Those who fall out of favor with her will earn her wrath, however.

Vestenmannavenjar, another cold northern country, is a land of fierce raiders and warriors who have completely reinvented themselves as a modern nation. In recent years they presented the world with a standard, unified currency - the Guilder - that has come to dominate world trade and finance, all to the benefit of the Vesten, of course. Rather than the High King of olden times, they are ruled by the Vendel League, made up of the heads of all the various trade guilds. Now, rather than conquest and pillage, they extract their plunder from fees and interest. Some Vesten mourn for what used to be, a nation of honor and blood replaced by silver and greed.

Vesten has no Sorcery in the core book, but Nations of Théah, Volume 1 introduces Galdr, a magic derived from runic words of power. Each rune grants strengths tempered with weaknesses, to maintain the balance.

Vodacce is a nation of intrigue, divided up between seven Merchant Princes who constantly scheme against each other. Like Castille, they are devoutly Vaticine, but they have a very unorthodox interpretation of sin, believing that it is better to indulge yourself than let desire fester in your heart.

Vodacce’s magic, Sorte, is the exclusive province of women. The Sorte Strega can manipulate the strands of Fate itself, and can be distinguished by their long black veils, to hide the glazed look they get when manipulating destiny. Too much tugging on the strands risks them lashing back out at you, however, giving you bad luck at the worst times. The men of Vodacce all fear the power of Sorte, and keep the women of Vodacce oppressed and illiterate.

In addition to being from a particular nation, your Hero can also join a secret society. In 1st edition, all of these societies had hidden secrets to them that were presented in their own books. Given that some of the 2nd edition versions differ radically from their older incarnations and the book devoted to secret societies hasn’t come out yet, it’s unknown if those secrets still hold true, or if they hold the keys to different world-shattering truths.

Die Kreuzritter are a former order of crusader knights, since gone underground. They hunt monsters and defend the innocent, using the legendary metal called Dracheneisen, which has great powers against monsters and the supernatural.

The Knights of the Rose and Cross, one of the few secret societies with a significant public face, publicly fight injustice and protect the society’s Patrons. There are rumors of hidden occult secrets only revealed to the initiated.

The Invisible College are a loosely-affiliated band of scholars, artists, scientists, and philosophers who seek to preserve knowledge from those who would destroy it - especially the forces of the Inquisition. They have access to devices on the cutting edge of Théan science.

The Brotherhood of the Coast are pirates who have banded together under a shared code of honor, providing protection to ships that pay them and plundering those that don’t.

Močiutės Skara, “Grandmother’s Shawl,” is in its public face an order of nice old ladies who tend to the victims of disasters and wars, and are welcomed across Théah. In private, however, they seek to prevent wars and achieve peace through any means necessary.

Los Vagobundos are dedicated to upholding the reigns of good monarchs and overthrowing unjust ones. Their leader, the masked man called “El Vagobundo,” can appear many places at once - but unbeknownst to outsiders, it’s always a different member under the mask, channeling the power of the legend.

The Rilasciare are anarchist free thinkers who oppose oppression and tyranny in all its forms, but especially seek to do away with the very concept of monarchy. Some accomplish their goals through pranks and subterfuge, others through bombs and daggers.

Sophia’s Daughters, a small branch of the Rilasciare, are more specifically dedicated to aiding the Fate Witches of Vodacce, spiriting them to safety in other nations, educating them in secret, and making strides towards liberation whenever possible.

What’s the campaign like?

In a game where the characters all play Heroes, there’s a strong focus on defeating Villains. Before you fight them directly, you have to defeat their Schemes, upon which they stake some of their influence. Stop the Scheme, and they lose what they wagered, otherwise, they gain back double their investment. Foil enough Schemes, and they’ll be dramatically weakened for the final confrontation. Thus, most campaigns are focused around a central Villain and their underlings that the Heroes can work their way through.

Each of your characters also has their own separate Stories to pursue, which is how the experience system works. You pick what story your Hero will follow, such as “avenge my father’s death,” figure out what benefit they get at the end of the Story, like “Weaponry 5,” and then figure out how many steps the story will have in the story based on what you want. Although you probably know the beginning step of the story (“find the name of the woman who killed my father”) and what the end will be (“I challenge her to a duel”), you and the GM can work together to figure out the most interesting twists along the way (“Step 3: I discover she was secretly my half-sister”). If you want, there’s nothing stopping you from making the ending a tragic one at the last minute, or even deciding that your Hero should fail so that they can be led into a future Story (“She defeated me into the duel and threw me into the sea - but not before she told me the real reason she killed my father!”) In between these main story points, the GM will also weave in their own side stories and recurring stories, which grant rewards in the same way as you complete them.

Odds are also good your party will get access to a ship at some point, this being a setting with an emphasis on seafaring. Ships have their own abilities based on where they were built and their history, and can gain new abilities as the party completes various types of adventures, like unlockable achievements. Players are encouraged to work with the GM and flesh out the ship’s NPC crew. Of course, the crew will also need to be paid regularly lest they turn mutinous.

What books should I get?

It should be noted that 1st edition and 2nd edition are radically different, both in rules and setting. While the 1st edition books are still useful as inspiration, most of the material in them isn’t canonical any more, and a good chunk of the setting is completely new to 2nd edition anyway. Frustratingly, there’s some characters in both editions that didn’t get described in the 2nd edition books on the grounds that they were already described in 1st edition. If you prefer rules that work like a more traditional RPG, 1st edition is probably more for you (and it also has cross-compatibility with the d20 system in its later supplements). Otherwise, stick to the 2nd edition books. You’ll need a copy of the Core Rulebook, and then the other books describe and provide character creation rules for the other nations and continents not described there.

Nations of Théah, Volumes 1 and 2 flesh out the western and eastern nations respectively, adding some more geographical and historical material as well as some new character rules suited for those nations.

Pirate Nations is very useful for a seafaring campaign, covering the various groups in the Atabean Sea, from pirate republics to native sea-monster hunting Rahuri, a slave colony that cast off its chains, and the villainous Atabean Trading Company. It also includes the Théan nation of Numa, once the cradle of Théan civilization.

The Crescent Empire introduces the Middle Eastern-inspired nations, flourishing under a new Caliph who banished her wicked brother from the throne. These five nations are united as one despite their differences, but loyalists to the old Caliph still plant seeds of dissent for his return.

The New World has the Central/South American continent of Aztlan, once ruled by Old Gods that caused a great cataclysm when they were overthrown that made the land itself shift and change. The Aztlani now venture into this uncharted territory to reclaim what they once had, balancing cultural independence against unifying the continent under one flag, whether by alliance or conquest, while wondering how long they can hold back the greedy Théans eyeing the continent’s treasures.

Lands of Gold and Fire presents the African continent, Ifri, home to several wealthy and highly advanced civilizations. They are under threat both from expansionist Théan powers and the Atabean Trading Company, whose campaign of slavery has empowered an ancient evil in the land.

Several other books are forthcoming for 2nd edition, including one with more information on the secret societies, and The Colonies, which will detail the North American continent. Khitai, the Asian continent, will have its own separate game system (called, appropriately, Khitai), with similar but slightly different rules.

What equipment do I need?

7th Sea uses d10s only, and you’ll want about 6-8 on hand per player, plus a decent stockpile for the GM. Sharing dice isn’t recommended here because it’s easier to keep the dice you rolled in front of you to count Raises during Action Sequences. You’ll also need some method of keeping track of Hero Points - poker chips work well, but you can get creative. Official 7th Sea versions of both are available.

There’s also the Sorte Deck, which makes a great in-universe prop (especially for Fate Witches), although you should note that it differs slightly from real-world tarot decks and has a few arcana cards that aren’t detailed even in the Core Rules. You could use it to guide your characters’ fates, or suggest the next step in their Stories.

Notecards are also helpful for tracking ongoing Stories.

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tumblunni · 5 years

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Misc thoughts of rambling development for my new yokai watch ocs family of hugs and sadness (blythe the Dimmy and amber the Gorgeous Ambassador)

* Amber was totally still Gorgeous Ambassador at heart even back when he was human. I feel like he probably dressed very plain and was very self concious for a long time, as well as also being poor as dirt so it wasnt really easy to be super fashion time. Perhaps the only way he was really able to be remotely flambouyant or pretty was just having a long ponytail that he was very proud of. It would have been easier to maintain a shorter hairstyle when you're struggling to even find somethibg to eat each day let alone a bath, but it just helped him hold on to a tiny bit of confidence. Even when he reincarnated as Gorgeous Ambassador he was still unconfident for a long time and it took all these centuries to fully embrace The Power Of Gorgeous. He was probably really shocked when he got his medal registered and heard his new yokai name, like uhh excuse me "must beautiful man who spreads beauty through the world with his smile" are you sure there hasnt been a mixup??? And nowadays he's become so happy with himself that he maybe dresses a little bit gaudy sometimes, but if you saw how he used to feel then you'd absolutely be cheering for him!

* he was probably worried that Blythe wouldn't recognise him when he finally managed to reunite with them, but i think the lil shadow ghost instantly knew it was their brother and ran straight into the biggest hug ever. "Im worried they'll think im all cringe and gaudy" NO UR LIL SIB IS IN AWE OF YOUR FASHION POWER AND HAPPY FOR YOUR CONFIDENCE

* I also think Amber would absolutely be proud of how much confidence Blythe has gained through travelling with the protagonist and co. Like "aaa the last time i saw you you were so tiny and shy!" "Yes, now i'm tall and shy!" "NUUUU STOP PUTTING YOURSELF DOWN"

* basically they are absolutely Shyness Fam, and Amber just approaches his anxieties differently with over-the-top fake boasting about his greatness instead of being honest about how bad he feels. So thats why itd be so heartwarming to see him genuinely making progress and genuinely seeing good parts of himself. ALL THANKS TO THE INTERNATIONAL GORGEOUSNESS ASSOCIATION OF THE AFTERLIFE, YES *cheesy makeover ads fly by in the background*

* Dimmy's fave food is rice balls not just cos ninja monster = rice balls, but cos for Blythe specifically it brings back happy memories of backstory ninja Amber in ye olden days packing lunches of love for his tiny friend. He was always broke in between finding bountys to hunt, so he was never able to cook anything too fancy, but those simple meals became associated with childhood in Blythe's heart. All the times this big strong human swordsman would have a moment of gentleness and offer his last bit of food to a useless little yokai like them. ("No!! You're a valued part of the team!! And growing children need this more than i do!! Besides, i'm so tough i don't need to eat." *stands up for a minute and blacks out*)

* Since this backstory took place before thee yokai watch was invented, you cant technically say Amber was Blythe's previous watchholder but like.. He totally was? Same formula of being a human you partner with and then go around fighting/befriending other yokai. I like to think that maybe before yokai medals became the latest trend and they set up the whole official regulated medal registration process, yokai would still give their human friends some sort of token of their friendship but it was just less organised. Like imbuing their soul energy into all sorts of shit like This Leaf I Found or One Shoe. Which could be used in the same way to summon them but obv was less conveinient, haha! I'm thinking maybe Blythe's bond object was just a neat rock, cos they were so young and didnt really own anything else to gift to this human. Like all they had was the coal from the hearth in the house they used to haunt, but thatd be too crumbly so they dug through to find the sturdiest and prettiest rock and Amber was like straigjt up crying from how touched this whole thing made him. I WILL TREASURE THIS PEBBLE MY TINY MONSTER CHILD...

* oh but just to rub salt in the wound i think he couldnt find it again when he woke up floating over his own burned corpse in the wreckage of his final fateful battle. There uhh..wasnt much of himself left, let alone anything he was holding. Itd kinda have to be that way cos if it worked like a yokai medal itd mean Amber could have instantly reunited with his friend and cut out all of these years of sad backstory, alas

* ok but imagine the cute and sweet emotionalness of then being able to swap medals when they see each other again, and have an actual magical guarantee of never losing their family ever again.

* I feel like Amber only initially agreed to join the Gorgeous Association because he wanted to get a job in the yokai world and save up to buy a decent house and decent level of income so that there would be a hapoy home waiting for his child whenever he finally found them. He didnt really believe that he had the potential to be a fashion icon, he just went along with it as an employment opportunity in his weird new ghost life. But OH NO, accidental self confidence!! (We are all very proud of him)

* oh and the Gorgeous Association doesnt work 100% identical to the anime version, i just like the anime's general concept. I feel like Gorgeous Ambassador is indeed a yokai species and not just a title, its less 'you were chosen by random lottery' and more 'you were chosen by destiny'...? Shy people who have potential to be fashion icons just tend to end up becoming the shy-people-with-potential-to-become-fashion-icons yokai, aka this. And the Gorgeous Association takes responsibility for finding all new Gorgeouses and training them to use their new powers instead of just staying in their shyness. Its more of a self help club? Oh and also the membership is full of other types of fashion yokai too, its not just Gorgeous Ambassadors. Just its only Gorgeous Ambassadors that get visited by the president as soon as they die and given a special invitation to join. So basically interpreting Gorgeous Ambassador as more 'this yokai is named that cos its powers are about encouraging people to be more confident aka introducing them to the world of fashion'. And less the idea that all Gorgeous Ambassadors used to be a different type of yokai and you can only become one by being picked by the club lottery. And also that its just a costume with no actual powers?? That was funny in the anime but i prefer if they actually could inspirit people and make them more confident and stuff.

* I FEEL LIKE IM EXPLAINING THIS BADLY, SORRY! Ok so uhh like yknow some clubs are all exclusive entry "you are not this thing til you join"? Like you cant be a country club member til you join the country club, and the sense of comeraderie there is just all being rich enough to pay for membership rather than having anything in common. But then there's stuff like lgbt groups or mental health support groups where youre all already the same thing and thats WHY you join the club. Anime version had Gorgeous Association be a country club and Gorgeous Ambassador be just a membership name rather than a real yokai form. Which, again, was really funny but i feel like it only works in a more gag focused series like the anime. Here i'm interpreting it that you can just be born in the species Gorgeous Ambassador, same as any other yokai like jibanyan or whatever, and it actually does have its own special powers and stuff. And its just that the Gorgeous Association sends out invites to any newborn yokai that have fashion related powers. So not all Gorgeous Ambassadors actually join the Gorgeous Association. Oh and Kageusuo is the actual yokai species name for those unaffiliated ones. The anime seemed to say that kageusuo was an unrelated new yokai that isnt in the games, that was just invented to have a form that Gorgeous Ambassador had before he became Gorgeous Ambassador. But i have Other Ideas

* i'll make it a new bullet point cos im getting all disorganized now aaaa

* ok so Kageusuo (or my fanmade eng dub name Shamshade) is Gorgeous Ambassador. Same thing. Same species. Kageusuo is a yokai personifying the idea of a fashionable beautiful person who never reached their potential in life due to social anxiety/bullying. Like an 'ugly duckling' story. Their default form is this shadowy looking depressed dude because their power is that they drain shadows from people, vampire style. This makes you 'less overshadowed", so you become more confident and people notice your unique style! But kageusuo cant use its powers on itself, so a lot of them stay in this shy form forever and just continue repeating the same overshadowed life they have as a human. The fabulous form that Gorgeous Ambassador has in the games is just simply the same yokai dressing differently- a kageusuo that managed to conquer its anxieties from its past life and take steps to embrace its true self! But theyre not actually any different in terms of powers, theyre still shadow vampires and their power to make people fabulous is just them eating your shadow. It was something they could already do before they became fabulous themself, now theyre just confident enough to match their powers, yknow? And also unrelatedly there's a club called Gorgeous Association that this particular kageusuo joined, which personally helped him in his journey of self confidence so he goes by the nickname Gorgeous Ambassador to advertise it. (Which is even more nicknamed into Amber cos he thinks it sounds cute)

* WHY ARE MY HEADCANONS SO OVERCOMPLICATED AAAaa

* anyway just imagine a vampire movie but its a supermodel lurching out of the shadows groaning "I VANT TO SUCK YOUR ANXIETY" and then when he bites you you become more confident. This is a Good Concept so i will somehow find a way to use it, dammit!! *b movie music* "OH NO THE MONSTER GOT TERRY" *terry suddenly wearing applebottom jeans*

* also imagine all of that but also the dude is a weird samurai being all "wow the wonders of the future" about thos applebottom jeans

* why do all my headcanons start as angst and end up as nonsense like this

#bunni plays yokai watch

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jinkisbelly · 6 years

Text

Wildest Dreams - 2/?

AFF link

Pairing: Onkey

Rating: pg-13 for the brief attack

w/c: 8.8k or so? I apologize if the read more doesn’t work on mobile

Summary: Prince Kibum of the Kingdom of Joesan is saved by a mysterious, young swordsman who becomes a lot more than just his personal guard.

His fork made the ceramic dish wobble a little as he picked up the last bit of his breakfast from it. He was so pleased that today was Jinki’s first day, meaning that the basically squadron of guards were no longer coming in and out of his rooms. When the door opened he heard Jinki’s soft, yet deep, voice call out, “Your Highness?"

“Come in, Jinki.”

The door was pushed the rest of the way open so Jinki could slip through. His footsteps were still silent, that if the door hinges didn’t slightly squeak and the boy hadn’t been speaking, Kibum wouldn’t have even known he had entered. “Good morning, Your Highness.”

“Good morning Jin-” His voice stopped in his throat when he lifted his gaze to look at Jinki’s new uniform. He blinked rapidly, trying to process his appearance. He hadn’t been too sure in Jinki’s choice of coloring, but it seemed to suit him greatly. Even being as dark as it was, the crest was still visible on his breast. He hadn’t chosen to take shoulder pads, but his hands were covered with leather gloves, tight against his fingers and forearm. Kibum was caught watching the way Jinki carefully moved his braid back over his shoulder when he remembered he needed to finish his sentence. “-Ki. Jinki.”

“Are you quite alright, Your Highness?”

“Yes. You look good.” His cheeks turned pink when he realized how bad that sounded. “The uniform I mean. Looks good, not you. Not that you look bad I just-”

Jinki just smiled, saving him from digging his own hole. “Thank you. I’m glad you approve of it.”

Kibum cleared his throat, fussing with the cloth napkin in his lap. “Are your quarters satisfactory?”

“Very much so, thank you.”

“That’s good.” He hummed as he pushed from the small table, moving toward his closet. “How do you feel about beginning your language lessons today?”

“Oh,” Jinki was looking out of the window, trying not to look at Kibum tossed his robe over the divider to get dressed. “Whenever you feel is appropriate. I don’t want you teaching me the language and culture to distract you from more pressing duties.”

Kibum’s head popped out from the divider, a goofy smile on his face as he tried to gesture to his boots by his bed. “Do you mind handing me those?” Jinki walked over and lifted the boots, and handed them over easily. “Thank you.” His head popped back behind it again until he was stepping out from behind it fully dressed. “I have history from 8 to 10 and politics from 11 until lunch time. We can use the time between the two study sections to work on your learning. Maybe you can even join me when I have my sword fighting lessons with Hyunji this afternoon.”

Jinki hummed thoughtfully. “I’m not quite sure if Sir Hyunji thinks fondly of me since my test.”

“Oh, posh. He’s just got his knickers in a twist because you disarmed him.” Kibum paused in the mirror to ruffle his hair about his head before it settled messily around his ears. “Come, we must not be late for Ms. Sungkyu. She often gets quite grumpy when I’m late.”

-----

The following morning when he arrived to begin his duty hours Kibum was already fully dressed and in front of him was a small, bowed box instead of his breakfast. “What is that, Your Highness?”

“This, Jinki, is a gift.” Kibum looked almost too excited. “I noticed you still have your old cloth around your head and I figured you deserved something a bit nicer.”

Carefully he wiggled the top of the box off and inside was a folded, black silk hairband. About the same thickness as his, but without the grime and ware of his own. He smiled warmly, “Thank you.”

“Why don’t you put it on?”

Slight panic filled his chest. He couldn’t possibly say the illusion spell without Kibum hearing and wondering what he was doing, and he really didn’t want to explain the point to his ears, so instead, he hummed, trying to mask the fear of being found out. “This is pinned in. It’ll take some time, but thank you. I’ll wear it starting tomorrow.”

Kibum seemed convinced, but Jinki was still wary as he put the top back on the box. “We will see how well you fare on horseback today.”

“Horseback, Your Highness?” The subject change was welcomed, but as he took in Kibum’s appearance and noticed the higher, riding boots on his feet, he was curious.

“Many items on my itinerary have to do with traveling to various parts of town and places on horseback. You cannot very well protect me if you cannot ride, Jinki.” Kibum rose an eyebrow. “You have been on a horse before, right?”

If his lessons at the age of eleven before going to visit his maternal grandparents counted.

------

It turned out that Jinki remembered more than he had thought he would. Kibum led him to what would be his horse as long as he was apart of his guard. The horse was a two-year-old stallion, black as night. Kibum was rambling about how reports have stated he was a bit reckless and that maybe he wasn’t the best fit for him, but Jinki didn’t focus on much of it. He was smiling as his horse pushed his head against his hand, petting his mane with his other. On his harness was his name, Midnight, engraved in the silver metal. Greeting him in his native tongue he was acutely aware of Kibum watching him. “Is something wrong, Your Highness?”

“Your language sounds beautiful.” He quickly replied, ducking behind the horse whose reins he held in his grip. “You should speak more in it.”

“But you cannot understand it.”

He could only see half of Kibum’s face from where he was petting his own horse with the name Duke on the harness.“But maybe one day you’ll trust me enough to teach me it.”

“Yes. One day.” The conversation was dropped as a stable aid led Jinki toward Midnight’s saddle. It was there he remembered how to saddle a horse, images of his Father’s sturdy hands holding his moving through the steps. Soon he was swinging his leg over and getting a feel from on top of the already big horse. He grinned as Kibum mounted Duke. The Prince was wiggling his gloves onto his hands before taking the reins from the stable hand.

“You ready to show me what you got?”

“If it’s a race you’re looking for, that’s quite unfair.” Jinki flexed his fingers around the leather of his reins, but there was a smile on his face as he quietly added. "I don't know your lands as well as you."

Kibum grinned, and it gave Jinki an uneasy feeling in his stomach as if he was about to be put in guard hell. "Then I guess it is about time you learned."

And then his boot was hitting the side of Duke and he was shooting out of the stable’s open doors. Jinki cursed lowly in his language before following after his charge.

-----

Jinki pulled the reins tight as Kibum came to a complete stop. It was only then he realized that there was maybe a foot from them and a hundred foot drop into the sea below. He huffed, slightly annoyed at his charge's antics, before softly chiding. “I must say, Your Highness, that was quite unbecoming.”

Kibum laughed, eyes crinkling in his amusement. “You wished to see the Castle grounds, did you not Jinki?”

“I suppose I had.” Jinki glanced at him for a moment before looking out at the Sea. It was then he noticed the dock along the shore. “What is this place?”

“My great Grandfather had this built to prevent visiting dignitaries from having to go through the city with the common folk. It is where members of the Royal Family also depart for overseas travel.” Kibum softly explained, hand waving with his words. “You need special permits with our seal to dock here. Without the permits, the guards will react and arrest you.”

Jinki gently cleared his throat. “That seems awfully reactive for what could be just a common mistake, Your Highness.”

“It is, but you can never take chances when it comes to pirates and other dangers.” Kibum flexed his fingers around his reins, “Come on, I want to make it to the forest to the west of here before we must return to the Castle.”

Their horses were moving slowly along the cliff edge when Jinki quietly asked, “How are these grounds protected? The area is so vast.”

Kibum grinned. “You’ll see the wall soon.”

And he sure did. It was at least twelve feet tall, expanding from where the cliff ended as far as he could see, curving in the distance around the looming trees. To their left, the Castle was blurry and small in the distance. A part of him wished to explore these entire grounds, feel the way the bark of the trees against his fingers, smell the flowers and hear the leaves rustle in the breeze. Until he had that opportunity, he’d focus on making sure Kibum didn’t get too far ahead of him.

-----

Days turned into weeks and then months, and they found a rhythm of the day to day for Jinki to learn the language. He was a quick learner, being almost fluent a little under five months of becoming Kibum’s personal guard. Between the language lessons, he held up the other condition in teaching Jinki the culture and traditions of his land. He still couldn’t seem to understand the way each section of the Monarchy should be referred to as other than the King and his heirs, but for the most part, he hadn’t needed to know yet. Here they were sneaking off to the old section of the library to hide from Kibum’s tutor. Jinki was relaxed, as much as the boy ever did, sitting on the couch across from him reading softly. It was an exercise to help his language retention, but also helping him learn about the Kingdom. “Have you ever been with a woman?”

Jinki slowly lifts his head, blinking, before replying calmly, “No. I have no desire to.”

“Oh.” Kibum’s face twists slightly in the realization that Jinki’s some type of mystic monk or something that’s sworn to some kind of celibacy. Like the Priests in the Temple.

Jinki hasn’t looked away from him, gaze soft, yet guarded as he asks, “It’s illegal here to love a fellow man, is it not?”

Kibum swallows thickly. Oh. “It is looked down upon. Highly by the Temple.”

With a quiet hum, Jinki taps his fingertips on the page of his still open book. “I hope it doesn’t affect how you act around me, Your Highness.”

“Of course not.” His voice softens when he repeats it, “Of course not.”

“Thank you.” In the silence that follows both returns to their books. Jinki is turning a page as he asks without looking up, “What made you ask such a question, if I may ask?”

“Oh, I heard some of the servants talking about sex and I had questions.” He lied.

Jinki laughs quietly. “Well, it would seem I am not the source for your answers. I apologize Prince.”

“Just fine, Jinki, no need to apologize,” He smiled, flicking his fringe from his face before quickly changing the subject. “How’s the reading going?”

“Quite alright. There are a few words I am having trouble recollecting in this tongue, but,” He flashed a quick smile, “It’s quite interesting to know.”

Jinki returned to the pages of the book and Kibum returned to his thoughts, or at least, trying to wade through them as they swirled around his mind.

-----

They were sure once they returned to the Castle, someone would voice their anger at Kibum skipping all of his lessons and meetings, disappearing out of the stables in a streak of white and black. Until then, however, the two of them were enjoying the lunch that Jinki had gotten from charming one of the girls down in the kitchens. It wasn’t much. A loaf of bread, some jerky, and a jar of fruit juice freshly squeezed that morning. Kibum was leaning against a thick tree trunk, making tiny sandwiches of jerky and bread, and taking turns with swigging juice from the bottle when Jinki passed it over from his spot against a huge rock just in front of him. “You like it here, don’t you?”

Jinki chewed on his bite of jerky until his mouth was clear before asking, “In your Kingdom, or here, now specifically?”

“Now, you seem more relaxed here.”

“My home was in the middle of a forest much like this one.” Jinki hummed, swirling the juice in the bottle, “You have to understand that your stone walls of our Castle, while lovely, quite feel like a prison sometimes. There isn’t enough sunlight, enough nature within, to make it feel... Like a home.”

The conversation shifted to other topics, but Kibum’s mind was already planning on how he could get plants into Jinki’s quarters without the boy knowing.

-----

Jinki pressed his lips together, looking past Kibum’s shoulders down the servants' hallway. Everyone seemed to be looking at them, people filtering out from their rooms as the whispers of a Royal down in the servants quarters. “Your Highness.”

“Yes, Jinki?”

He whispered, “What are we doing down here?”

Kibum only smiled over his shoulder as he turned down a hallway Jinki recognized as the one to his own room. “You will see.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, but then they were stopping in front of his door. Wordlessly he slipped past Kibum to unlock his door. He failed to notice the way Kibum was smiling, the glint of mischief in his eyes as he walked into the room first. Following, his repeated question died on his lips as he saw the almost sea of green around his room and the new, bigger window above his bed. Kibum looked as pleased as a peach. “What is this?”

“You said that this Castle didn’t have enough green or sunlight to make it feel like home, so I had them do this.” Kibum softly sat on the bed, crossing his legs, and smiling nervously, “You do like it, right?”

Jinki was softly smiling, smelling a flower hanging from the basket to the left of the bed. His glove was held in his left hand, right hand touching the delicate petals. “It’s beautiful. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know.”

“And yet, you have.”

“Mhmm.”

“And, may I ask how you managed this?”

Kibum was fussing with a bit of lint on his pants as he answered, “The plants were easy enough to do, but the window... I had them to it when we were at my lessons.”

Jinki hummed, turning his back to him to hide the pink of his cheeks he knew was there, playing with the potted plant on his dresser. “If you keep this up, my special treatment will be the talk of the servant’s wing.”

“If I cannot give my personal guard gifts, what is the point?”

“Mm, people will start thinking things, Your Highness.”

“Oh? What type of things?”

Jinki coughed, clearing his throat, “Romantic things.”

“OH.”

“Oh, indeed.” Jinki closed his eyes for a moment, breathing through his nose before turning with a smile, “Thank you for the plants. I feel more at home already.”

Kibum looked relieved, perfect posture relaxed slightly as his shoulders slouched. “I am glad.”

-----

The birthday party for Kibum’s 15th year was extravagant, and nothing Jinki was told about prepared him for it. There were so many people in such fine clothes he wondered where someone could get so much fabric. The music swirled around the ballroom, drifting from all the open windows in the late summer air, and he was sure those in the huge city below the castle grounds could hear it from their homes.

When Kibum retired to his rooms Jinki couldn’t voice how grateful he was. He had never been to such a vast gathering of people and it made him uneasy. Kibum had dropped his elaborate coat on the cleared breakfast table and promptly fallen into the softness of his chair at the head of it. He huffed loudly, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. Jinki cracked a slight smile as he turned from the then closed door. “Are you too exhausted to open one last gift, Your Highness?”

Kibum’s gaze was soft and tired, but he lifted to a more proper position and smiled. “Did I miss one earlier?”

Jinki shook his head before moving to the bookcase just to the right of the bathroom door, to grab the wrapped gift he had hid there that morning when Kibum was getting dressed. He carefully placed it on the table, pushing it over with two fingers. “It’s not much, but I have been working on it for some time. Happy Birthday, Kibum.”

“You got me a gift?” Kibum gently asked, fingers brushing against the brown paper of the wrapping. Jinki was watching with soft, yet nervous, eyes, but he nodded. Curious, Kibum pulled the brown twine and carefully unwrapped it. A book soon came into view. An eyebrow raised as he ran his fingers over the blue of the cover before gently opening it. He recognized it as a dictionary of some sort, one of the languages being Ki’jash. The other was unknown. “What is this?”

“You once mentioned your interest in learning my native language when I trusted you enough to share it with you.” Jinki softly explained, gaze falling from Kibum’s face. He looked sort of small then, and vulnerable and Kibum knew how much this meant for him just by that alone. “I figured that being as my language is widely unknown and that there wouldn’t be a text for you to study as you’ve given me to learn yours... I’d make you one.”

“Jinki…” He slowly breathed out, fingers running over the carefully written out words. “Thank you.”

“I know it’s not anything like your other gifts but-”

Before he could finish Kibum held up a hand to silence him. “Enough of that. You’re right it isn’t, but only because this one means something. Really. Thank you for sharing something so dear to you with me.”

Jinki gave a sweet smile, “You’re my best friend Kibum, even if you like bossing me around.”

“HEY!” Kibum pouted deeply, “I do not.”

In response, Jinki chuckled behind his hand and Kibum’s pout disappeared, a smile replacing it.

----

One late afternoon as the leaves in the courtyard fell around them Jinki watched carefully as Kibum engaged Hyunji in their daily weapon lesson. Today was the long sword and Jinki was going to fall asleep if they didn’t move past basic forms soon. “You’re holding the hilt too tightly.” He quietly commented. Kibum quickly loosened his grip slightly and Jinki noticed how much that irked Hyunji.

A few more rotations and he noticed Kibum’s feet weren’t balanced and if in a real fight he’d be easily overpowered. “Stop stepping on your heels, Your Highness. Balls of the feet. Balls.”

It was then Hyunji lowered his sword and glared at Jinki. “Do you think you can teach him better than I?”

“I beg your pardon, sir?” Jinki quietly responded. He noticed Kibum walking over to the table where there was an umbrella open and lemonade sitting on a tray.

“Every time you give some type of feedback to him, you are stepping into my lesson. It’s rude. So,” The anger and frustration was rolling off the Master at Arms easily. “Do you think you can teach him better than I?”

Jinki’s gaze flicked over to Kibum again, as if asking permission to speak freely. While he was casually sipping his glass, there was a smirk to his lips as he waved his hand in a gesture to go on. “Actually, Yes. I do. You’ve been going over basic forms for weeks now. He’s fifteen. I mastered the lessons taught to me at age twelve.” He took a breath before adding, “Sir.”

Hyunji opened his mouth, jaw slack, before pressing his lips in a tight line and turning, storming off up the stairs toward the Castle. Jinki leaned his head a little when Kibum came close, asking quietly. “How much trouble do you think I just got in with the King?”

“None. I’ll protect you. Don’t you worry.” Kibum grinned, nudging him with his elbow. “So, are you ready to show me something new, Teacher?”

Jinki groaned.

-----

Sweat was dripping down their brows, even with the cool nip in the air as the temperature outside the large ballroom windows decreased with winter fast approaching. Jinki has his left hand behind his back, posture straight, yet relaxed as he moved his sword to block Kibum’s fury of attacks. He could see how hard Kibum was working to get through is defenses, but even in his frustration, his movements were controlled and thought out. He wasn’t fighting on just emotion. In the last few months since Jinki had taken over as his sword fighting instructor, Kibum had made an immense improvement. At least one of their three weekly sessions were full blown sparring matches. Sometimes it was annoying how Jinki would never push on offense, always defending himself with calm and precise movements, but Kibum also knew that when the young man did in fact attack, that it was much more difficult than catching his defenses by surprise.

It was a slight shift in his form, his right foot twisting slightly, and Jinki was pushing against his blow. Kibum’s eyes widened as in quick movements Jinki had him backing up, losing his footing as he tried to counter his attacks. In short work, he was disarmed and Jinki had his sword a few inches from his neck, a huge smile on his face. Kibum frowned, whining. “Can’t you let me win, ONCE?”

“Is it really a win if I give it to you?” Jinki cheekily asked, lowering his weapon and helping Kibum up from the ground. Whatever was grumbled Jinki couldn’t hear, but he watched amused as Kibum brushed off his clothes. “Care to repeat that, Your Highness?”

“Oh, take the ‘Your Highness’ and shove it up your twisted knickers.” Instead of getting mad or upset, Jinki snorted, deep laughter flowing through the almost empty room. Kibum straightened, blinking rapidly, as he looked at the young man. Jinki’s eyes were almost completely closed, amusement dripping from his very being. He was beautiful. Even with the dripping sweat off his chin and his hair in disarray.

As his laughter lessened Jinki ran his hand over his hair, pushing it back as best he could. His nose scrunched unpleasantly. “We probably smell.”

Kibum scuffed as he picked his discarded sword, handing it to the servant by the door to be taken to the armory. “Speak for yourself.”

“Okay.” Jinki made a point to breathe loudly behind him, and cough, “You smell Your Highness.”

“Take my prior statement and add damn somewhere in it.” He snipped before grabbing his towel and shirt he had thrown on the ground before their lesson began. He then headed up the right set of steps, heading back to his rooms to clean up before dinner. He paused at the top, hand softly falling on the railing, “Are you coming?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Jinki sweetly answered, and Kibum wasn’t sure if the tone was sarcasm or not as the young man jogged to catch up with him.

-----

Snow was falling steadily outside, wind softly howling, as Jinki closed the window yet again that had blown open. He was shivering slightly as he returned next to the fire where Kibum was wrapped up in his robe and a blanket, cocoa in the mug held in his palms. Jinki mumbled bitterly. “Love the snow, hate the cold.”

“Ah, before you sit down, can you fetch something for me?”

“Of course, what do you need?” Jinki easily asked, masking the way his teeth had just clinked a little.

“In the chest at the bottom of my bed, there’s a box wrapped in a red velvet cloth. Bring it to me will you?” Jinki left with silent footsteps with a bow of his head, appearing a few moments later with the requested item held carefully in both palms. He went to place it in Kibum’s lap, only to have the young man hold his hand against it. “No need, it’s for you.”

“For me?” Jinki blinked, frozen half bent still. He straightened, confused, box still held from his body. “Why would it be for me?”

“Your birthday is the fourteenth of this month, is it not?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Then sit your pretty ass down and open that.”

Jinki ignored the fact Kibum had just called him pretty and sat like he was told instead, carefully unwrapping the cloth from the box. He gave Kibum an uneasy glance before returning to pull the brown paper wrapping from it. The box was made of polished dark wood with a golden clasp. He carefully opened it to reveal a dagger almost the length of the box. It was an expertly made ebony blade, the hilt trimmed with gold and on the bottom was a ruby. He lifted it from the box, gingerly, as if afraid he’d break it. “Is this real?”

“The gem? Yes, or well I sure hope so.” Kibum teased, smiling. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful, Kibum, but I couldn’t possibly except it.”

“Nonsense.” He sounded offended, which he probably was, as he laid his cup down on the table near him. “I figured that I’d match your sword as much as one can. You don’t have many nice things Jinki, and I wanted to give you something nice. It can fit in your boot along the side.”

Jinki slid the dagger into the sheath carefully, wanting to take his gloves off to feel the smoothness of the craftsmanship, but not wanting to get his fingerprints over how pristine it was. “Thank you. It’s very beautiful.”

�� “You’ve said that already.”

“To take a phrase from your book, stick it up your twisted knickers.”

Kibum beamed. The saying quite fit Jinki’s slight accent. The dagger was returned to it’s box for the moment, but starting the next morning it’d always be stuck inside of his left boot.

------

In a statement of good faith, neither the King nor Kibum were in a carriage as they would be normally traveling in the open such as this. In the front were a few guards, followed by the King, Kibum with Jinki right beside him, and a fair number of guards behind them. It was early spring, a slight nip in the air as winter slowly faded away. Jinki kept Midnight almost completely parallel to Duke, just two steps behind to show that Kibum was the Prince. He was glad Kibum was wearing his heavy armor. It gave him more protection than those silly formal suits. He had a bad feeling about this in his stomach, the same bad feeling he had the morning he had first met Kibum.

The morning had gone by without much incident. The townspeople on the far edge of the Kingdom were hospitable and kind. Kibum handed out various supplies, walked through shops in the main section of the small town much to the dismay of his father and then after an early afternoon lunch given in their honor, they had saddled their horses and began the long ride back home. They’d stop in a town halfway for the night, of course, as they had on the way here. There was silence, a type of silence that put dread in Jinki’s bones and his hand closer to the hilt of his sword, bringing his horse closer to Kibum’s. The Prince rose his eyebrow in question but didn’t say anything.

Jinki hissed under the sound of the two dozen horses hooves hitting the dirt of the road. “Be vigilant Your Highness.”

“Do you know something I don’t, Jinki?” He quietly asked, ignoring the way his Father glanced over his shoulder.

Before he could answer he heard the hiss of an arrow cutting through the air. He had just but a moment to get his feet from the stirrups, lifting until they were on the saddle and tackling Kibum from the horse, just as the arrow whizzed past them and thunked into the trunk of a tree behind them. Kibum couldn’t hear anything over the panic from around them and the rush of blood past his ears, as his body took the full impact of falling from the back of a horse. But through the dust created from all their horses, he saw the pain exploding through Jinki’s tightly held together facade. He looked over him, searching for the arrow, but stopped moving when Jinki painfully hissed. “Stay down, Kibum.”

Jinki didn’t move from his place pressed over him, and it was then he realized Jinki was protecting him from possible arrows with his own body. “You’re hurt.”

It felt like time slowed down when Jinki’s eyes lowered to meet his. The pain he was trying really hard to mask visible easily through the dark depths, but he still managed to smile to try and reassure him. “I’m quite alright.”

“Bullshit.” Jinki looked at him apologetically, but before anything else could be said the call it was clear came. Jinki rolled off of him, grimacing as he hit the ground next to him. Kibum carefully stood up, glancing around to see the damage. A few guards were injured, but there were no casualties, including the shooter that had been apprehended from behind the treeline to the East. A guard by the name of Hongbin handed him Duke’s and Midnight’s reins, but when he turned to hand Jinki the reins, he wasn’t standing where he thought he’d be. Instead, he was still on the ground, hands pressing against his right knee. Concern washed over Kibum quickly as he stepped closer. “You ARE hurt.”

Finally, Jinki relented, being honest. “I think I landed wrong on my knee when I took you down off Duke. Moving or putting weight on it hurts.”

When Kibum walked behind him, arms moving under Jinki’s armpits to help him up, the young guard actively protested. Something about how improper it was for a Crown Prince to do such a thing, but it fell on deaf ears. Kibum wrapped his left arm around him, right hand on his tummy as he helped him stand on one leg. “Do you think you can ride?”

Jinki nodded slightly. “I just need help on.”

Doing so was easier said than done, and in the end, Jinki almost screamed in pain at the movement, barely able to grip onto the saddle to steady himself before he fell off. “You have to wait until we get to the next town. We’ll find you a doctor there, Jinki.”

Even with the sweat on his brow from his obvious discomfort and pain, he smiled, whispering, so the guards around them didn’t hear him.“Thank you, Kibum.”

-----

They had managed to find a physician in the town they stopped in for the night. From what they understood there wasn’t much he could do but stabilized Jinki’s knee, order him to be off of it as much as he could, and offer crutches to help with until then. When Kibum entered the room after the physician had left, Jinki was prompt up against the headboard, knee lifted by a few pillows. He smiled easily when his gaze fell on his Prince, but Kibum could tell he was in a lot of pain and was exhausted. Still, he quietly asked as he carefully sat beside him. “How are you faring?”

“I will be needing some time off, I think,” Jinki hummed, “I doubt I can protect you very well wobbling around on poorly made crutches.”

“Well, I think you’ve earned more than a few days off, Jinki.” Kibum softly patted his hand resting on his stomach, careful not to jostle him too much. “You saved my life today. I’m not quite sure if that arrow was meant for myself or my Father, but it had hit me without you.”

“It’s my duty to protect you.”

“Still.” He slowly withdrew his hand, gazing at the pattern of the quilt under them as time passed around them slowly. “I guess I should let you rest. You must be in a reasonable amount of pain.”

When he looked up, Jinki’s head was turned toward him, right cheek squished slightly against the pillow propped behind his head. “If you wish to retire I won’t stop you, but I would enjoy the company is you decide you wish to stay.”

“I- alright.” He gave a shy smile, before pulling off his boots and rounding the bed to climb into the space beside Jinki. He fluffed a pillow, wiggled just a little to get comfortable, before looking up at him, head held up by his palm. They talked for what seemed like hours. About nothing, and yet everything. Jinki talked about the way the stars looked in the night sky when he’d sneak out of his house when he was younger, lay in the field of tulips by his home, and the way fireflies blinked against the dark sky. Kibum talked about his mother, how beautiful he remembered her to be, and how much he missed her. At the sad turn to their conversation Jinki laid his hand over Kibum’s resting between them, and without a word, a bit of understanding traveled through them. Jinki knew very well what it was like to lose a parent, to miss them terribly and not be able to do anything to change the fact they were gone. Even after the conversation had shifted again to lighter topics like the sound of the town through the window and how the candle wick crackled a bit, Jinki didn’t move his hand and Kibum didn’t make him. It stayed there until Jinki asked Kibum to help him down to lay flat, to sleep, and even then Kibum curled up on the other side of the bed, talking until sleep pulled them both under.

-----

He wasn't sure when the small red vials were being placed in his room exactly, but he knew every morning that he awoke sitting on the table just inside the door next to the potted daisies it would be. He knew they were sent by Kibum. There was a little note the first morning, To help with the pain. Take it easy ~ Kibum. Whatever the vial was, it worked very well. The dull ache in his knee when it wasn't moving was gone, and the sharp pains when he moved or tried to walk was lessened significantly. He almost wanted to stay up, figure out if it was a servant, or Kibum himself, but each time he tried, sleep tugged at him before whoever dropped the medicine off appeared. He knew there were only two other people with a key to his room. Kibum and his Father, both because of security.

Instead, he left a note in his language, knowing that only Kibum would understand the words. You know, you could visit me to bring me the vial, Your Highness.

In the morning, the note was gone and there wasn't a vial. Instead, when he was having his lunch there was a quiet knock at his door. Before he could stand up, a key was pushed into the lock, and he softly heard Kibum's voice. "Are you decent?"

"I sure hope so being mid-morning. Come in Your Highness."

Kibum slowly slipped in, a nervous smile on his face, before quickly closing the door behind him. In his fist was the red vial, "I got your note."

"So you were the one sneaking into my room in the middle of the night."

"Don't sound so amused Jinki." Kibum scuffed. "I spent the last thirty minutes trying to shake my replacement guards to come here alone."

Jinki patted the bed next to him gently. "I apologize. Please join me."

And he did. Softly laying the vial into Jinki's outstretched palm. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better, but even more as soon as I take this. Thank you for giving it to me."

"The court physician said that it would help with the inflammation, I think that's what he called it." Kibum chewed on his bottom lip before gazing over at him. "I miss you guarding me. I hope you come back soon."

"I will try my best." Jinki wiggled the cork from the vial, taking it back quickly. His face scrunched up as the bitter taste hit his tongue, but as quick as it was there it was gone, and he was placing it on his table next to the bed. "I'm quite sure your guards will go into a full wide panic if you stay any longer."

"Come, visit me then." Kibum huffed. "Hyunji has taken over my sword lessons and he won't spar with me."

Jinki squinted, "Do you just like me for my willingness to spar with you?"

"Completely." But he was smiling, and both knew he was joking. He touched Jinki's left knee ever so delicately as if it was the one that was injured. "Get well soon."

-----

It was a few weeks later when Jinki was on duty once again, held up by the cane that Kibum had made for him when he realized he was using a broken mop handle to aid him in walking after he no longer needed his crutches, that he voiced he wished to talk more about his parents. It was late, a few hours before the moon would be at it’s highest point in the sky. Kibum had poured them both tea, sitting by the fireplace in one of his adjacent rooms. He knew how much of his past Jinki held close to his heart, but as well, from the little he had disclosed that he had no family waiting for him back home. Jinki sipped at his tea, holding it gently between both palms, finger through the little loop of the cup, knee propped up against the arm of the chair he was sitting in. “Of course, if you wish to not know, I’ll keep what I have to say to myself, Kibum.”

“Nonsense.” He scrunched his nose as if disgusted by such a thought. “I’ll happily listen to anything you trust me enough to hear.”

Jinki was gazing at the bit of tea still left in his cup held just above his lap, as he began. “My father was a farmer. He grew many things, but his favorite was his strawberries. He’d make jam that my mother adored from them. We didn’t have much, but we had many family heirlooms, things passed down from generation to generation. My sword is one of them, given to me when he believed I had mastered all he had to teach me at twelve, a book of recipes I’ve never attempted from my mother’s side. My Father died just after my fifteenth birthday. The reason I was running from my home was that my mother felt I wasn’t safe anymore where we lived... She gave me all the money she had, a kiss upon my head, and she sent me off. I don’t know what has become of her. I can only imagine nothing good.”

“Jinki, I never knew, I’m sorry.”

He flashed a little, sweet smile, thumb moving over the white porcelain of his cup. “It’s quite alright, Kibum. I’ve come to terms with why I needed to leave and that no matter what my mother sent me away out of love. I miss her, them, terribly, but my people believe the spirits of those you love to protect you even if you no longer feel them around you. They were there when I heard that arrow and they’ll be there the next time I have to save you from something out of either of our hands.”

Kibum smiled, quietly teasing, “What makes you so sure I wouldn’t be saving you for once?”

Jinki gave him a pointed look before sipping his tea, gaze flicking to the fire, but said nothing. Kibum snorted. After a moment, Jinki quietly stated, “Thank you for giving me a home. I know my quarters aren’t much, but I haven’t felt safe enough to stay somewhere as long as I have here, since before my father died.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. Jinki was looking at him in a way he hadn’t seen before, warm and soft around the edges, trusting. It made a lump form in Kibum’s throat he had to swallow down, hiding his face by dipping down to quietly mumble, “No need to thank me for that.”

“But still I do.” Jinki hummed as he finished his cup of tea, a glint in his eye over the rim when Kibum rose his gaze once again. Soon Kibum would retire to bed, Jinki residing outside of his door until his replacement came so he could get some rest. Until then, both would enjoy the warmth of the room and the sweetness of conversation with a dear friend.

------

Kibum’s sister, Princess Sonkyu, was turning 18, and Jinki was sure every single available bachelor in all the nearby Kingdoms were descending upon the castle in droves. He almost wanted to ask Kibum if he could be exempt from going, but he couldn’t trust anyone else protecting him during such a hell fest as a ball was for a guard. At the moment, Kibum was sitting in his smaller throne to the left of his Father’s, watching his Sister be twirled around the room by different young men as the dance progressed. His annoyance should be obvious to anyone, but to Jinki it was especially so. Forgetting the sense of duty and what was expected of them, he stepped forward and gently laid his hand on Kibum’s shoulder. When Kibum looked over at him, slightly alarmed, the Prince softened. “Is something wrong, Jinki?”

“No, but,” Jinki gave the King a quick glance before whispering with a little smile, “Do you want to get out of here, Your Highness?”

“More than anything.”

“Than follow me. We can slip out onto the back balcony.”

Kibum squinted, voice hush still. “Are you trying to kidnap me, Jinki Lee?”

“Quite so.” Jinki gave a cheeky grin. “Are you coming or not, Your Highness?”

In reply, he cast his Father one more glance, making sure he wasn’t looking, before he quietly slipped from his seat, taking Jinki’s hand and following him through the thick curtains behind them. The glass door of the private balcony was closed and it wasn’t until they reached the railing that their hands fell to their sides once again. The summer sky was beautiful, the sun setting in the distance casting the entire Kingdom it seemed in it’s warm, pink and orange light. It was there that Kibum noticed Jinki softened around the edges, leaning against the stone of the railing, eyes falling close to enjoy the breeze. He had to quickly look away from his daze when Jinki’s head began to turn toward him. He tapped his fingers against the balcony, nervous for some unknown reason, before asking, “Was my boredom so loud that you could notice it without even seeing my face?”

“I could have been on the other side of the castle and I’d have known.” Jinki laughed quietly. “You hate parties like this, after a while. Your enjoyment ran out right around the time the cake was cut.”

Kibum shook his head, almost fond, not wanting to know how Jinki knew him oh so well. “Well, thank you for getting me out of there.”

“Is it not my duty to protect you, even if it’s from frilly dresses and that violinist who can’t seem to play his piece without being shrill?” Jinki hummed, content as he gazed out at the horizon. “You know, I can almost smell the sea. I spent so much time on it before finding that caravan that brought me here. I sort of miss it.”

“We’ll have to go sometime.”

“You make it sound like we can just go saddle the horses and ride out of here.”

Kibum shrugged, leaning against the railing, so close if he leaned just a bit their shoulders would be touching completely. His voice sounded almost sad when he spoke, longing. “Sometimes I wish I could.”

“Do you not enjoy being a Prince, Kibum?” Jinki softly asked head turned just enough to look at him.

“Most of the time. I know I have so much more than I could ask for. It’s the treatment, the fake smiles out of respect, not knowing if someone is my friend because they like me for me or because they’re worried I’ll order their head to be taken from their shoulders. It’s not being able to go into town without an entire squadron of guards and only have the worry of a normal citizen of being robbed. Normal stuff, ya’ know?” Kibum sighed. He lifted a hand to pull his crown from his head, laying it on a bench beside them, before returning. His head lowered until his chin was basically against his chest, and he was watching as his fingers fidgeted with the chip in the stone of the railing. “It’s why having only you as my guard means so much to me. I don’t feel any less safe, most of the time more so, but I feel more like a normal being. Like I have more freedom than if I didn’t have you.”

Silence falls between them, but it’s not awkward or tense, just warm. Jinki is the one to break it when he leans just enough until his shoulder brushes Kibum’s, causing the young man to look at him. The image awaiting him is Jinki smiling, cast in such a golden glow from the setting sun. “If it’s any constellation, Kibum, I do care for you because I want to, not because I fear you’ll take my head. You’re my friend because of what makes you Kibum, not because of that Crown.”

“Being with you is the one place I feel free, Jinki.” He warmly confessed, voice falling to an almost whisper as he lost his courage toward the end. To taken the seriousness out of the atmosphere, he cracked a joke. “I don’t think you’d let me take your head, even if I wanted.”

“Oh, definitely not.” Jinki grinned. His smile softened then, a light chuckle to his voice. “You don’t have to joke to hide behind your feelings Kibum. Did you know that the rumor around the servant quarters is that I used to be an elite assassin?”

Kibum snorted, that not being anywhere near where he thought the conversation was going. “You can’t be serious.”

“Completely. They heard me curse in my native tongue and they all scattered.” His expression fell then and Kibum felt his sadness so prominent he was sure he could reach out and touch it with his hand. “It’s not the same as the way you feel being a Prince, but I do understand what it’s like to be feared for who, or what, people think you are.”

“I hadn’t known about it.” Kibum pressed his lips in a thin line. “I can say something if you’d like.”

Jinki shook his head, a soft smile on his face as he gazed out on the horizon. “I don’t quite think that would help either of our causes, Kibum, but thank you. You always seem to be protecting me without realizing.”

“I doubt it.” He scoffed, turning away.

“But you do.” Jinki reached over to squeeze his hand, but only for a moment before pulling away and returning to his place beside him. “You protected me when you came to get me from my cell and offered me this job. You could have very well had just left me to rot for murdering your attackers, but you didn’t. You protected me from your Father’s judgemental gaze and even when I told off Hyunji. Both of which I could have been dismissed from your service for. While it’s different than my physical protection of you, you still protect me all the time. You shouldn’t mind you, but I have a feeling I couldn’t convince you not to even if I tried.”

Kibum opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly when he realized he had no idea what to say to that. Instead, he hummed and replied. “You’re right. You couldn’t.”

There was another brush of their shoulders and when he looked over Jinki was softly smiling, just a slight curve to his lips. Maybe parties weren’t so bad after all.

------

There was still a month to his own birthday, and yet presents had been arriving for weeks now from Kingdom’s near and far. Kibum hadn’t opened any of them yet, instead, having servants place them in one of his empty rooms to be looked through at another time. He usually gave most away to charity, keeping a few that interested him, or ones that he’d have to have if the gifter ever came to visit. There was one, however, that he did open as soon as he received it.

It was in a small, white velvet pull tie bag, on his nightstand. Near it was a note with his name on it in Jinki’s language. He realized quickly he had somehow woken up a few hours before sunrise, and he wondered when Jinki had placed the gift. Propped up on his elbow, he opened the note carefully. I know it’s not much, but it means a lot to me to give something such as this to you ~ Jinki

His curiosity was growing so big it was threatening to overflow as he laid the note on the table and pulled open the bag. Reaching in he felt soft to the touch string and then a wooden pendant. Flipping it over he squinted to get a good look at it from the dim light given off from the moon through his window. The dark wood of the pendant had a character engraved on the front. In Jinki’s language, it represented C’ovous. Safety. A smile grew across his features as he ran a thumb over the small, but meaningful, present. He placed the bag on the table by the note before pulling the necklace over his head.

As he fell asleep again it rested against his chest.

-----

He didn’t fail to notice the big smile on Jinki’s face when he saw the pendant around his neck the night of his birthday party. He had reacted similarly a couple hours the morning Kibum received it when he came in to start his shift. Still, Jinki forced himself to have a blank face, looking through a book far too quickly to really be getting anything from it’s pages, asking, “Shouldn’t you be wearing something more formal?”

“If I have to wear that God Forsaken Crown that’s been two sizes too small, I can wear the one gift I’ve received this year that means something.” Kibum’s attention then fell on his reflection in the mirror before he sighed, satisfied. “Come. Festivities await and I’ve passed the point of being reasonably late to my own party.”

Which they didn’t stay very long at. It was an innocent glance behind him as he sipped his little bit of wine he was allowed. Anyone else would have thought Kibum was just taking a look around the room, but Jinki knew it meant he wanted to leave as soon as possible. For the next few songs, he looked for a way out, to leave without being considered rude. It happened when Kibum fell into step with him, whispering about how he had to use the restroom. Jinki hid his smile easily, nodding curtly and saying, loud enough for people near them to hear, but quiet enough he wasn’t broadcasting it. “This way Your Highness.”

It was some time before they reached a part of the castle that was barely lit, and off limits from the party goers. Immediately Kibum lost the high chin confidence he had be expertly exuding. “I can’t wait to get out of this cage of a costume.”

“Just a little bit longer, Kibum.”

He flashed a small, kind smile. “Thanks for getting me out of there. Again.”

In silent response, Jinki squeezed his hand, and he could feel the warmth of his grip even as the young man had long ago let go.

----

#onkey #jinkibum #onew #key #shinee #jinki #kibum #wildest dreams au #I've edited it a bit took things out added some in #it'd have been 11k if I had kept the original chapter ending

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otoroll · 6 years

Photo

This is a Japanese game, and we have to have one overtly Japanese character. So we get Zekuu. (There’s also Higan, but Zekuu really emphasizes his Japanese influences.)

And now that you’re done laughing about his name-

Okay, I’ll give you a little more to finish laughing.

Zekuu: Lady Hero. I’m a swordsman from the Kingdom of Izuruno, Zekuu. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

Heroine: I look forward to working together with you.

Z: ...that a person like you would become the legendary Hero...

H: Excuse me?

Z: No, it’s nothing. I’m certain there must be a reason you were chosen. First, I would have you show me your abilities.

So Zekuu is the successor to a noble family with a long lineage, so he’s probably got stiffness inbred in him. But he’s so stoic he gets called the Icy Samurai. He’s doing this Road of Glory thing to basically bring further honor to the family name.

I’m a sucker for the Japanese-inspired fantasy designs but I don’t like these stoic types normally. Except... He’s voiced by Ono Kensho, who I also knew nothing about, but whose wiki page has been very informative. Like that he’s the official Dan Radcliffe dub voice.

...we’re gonna go on a journey with Blue Ninja Harry Potter!

Otome Yusha character page

#otome yusha #character introduction #zekuu #his name is a gundam #yes i know the actual mobile suit is a zaku

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shukuchiisms · 7 years

Note

Share a canon of your character that you never shared.

ALL IN THE NAME OF CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT…

I have written it on the forums and it becomes the curent canon lore for the bloodmoon but it seems like i never shared it on tumblr for some reason.

The bloodmoon cult is a shadowy cult whose true intentions are obfuscated, steeped in ancient ritual and demonic power. A deadly and heretical force, they perform these rituals on nights of the Blood Moon to summon demons and spirits that imbue them with incredible (and often uncontrollable) power. Each member’s mask depicts their own demon or spirit, which only the most powerful and committed members gain during a trial deep within their stronghold. It is said that there is a shadow realm parallel to our own where a demon or spirit awaits for each of us, constantly looking for a way to tear through and consume us. The trial must have something to do with communing and reaching an accord with your own demon or spirit to share power in exchange for a night of freedom. There are a number of roles within the cult.

Leaders:

Zilean - serves as the face of the cult, leading members in rituals to summon spirits on the night of the blood moon.

TF - is the true leader, remaining in the shadows and behind the scenes but forever present in the actions of the cult. It is said that he is the one to have first passed the trial of masks.

Guardians:

Shen - serves as personal bodyguard to the leaders of the cult. The most indomitable disciple in mind and body, his devotion and loyalty can never be shaken. His splash depicts Zilean watching over him as he performs the trial of masks within the mask room.

Yasuo - is the ceremonial executioner, a swordsman whose bloodthirst can never be quenched.

Priestesses:

Priestesses walk their own path. Chosen of the Blood Moon, they carry tremendous power but choose to travel far from the cult finding their own truth.

Diana, Elise & Akali - chosen of the moon, the favoured daughters of night seems destined to be peerless assassins of the cult.

Demons & Spirits:

When the blood moon waxes and the ritual of summoning is complete some members of the cult are completely overcome by the demonic power, transforming into true terrors bent on carrying out the will of the Blood Moon.

Thresh - demon: He guides the new acolites during the mask trials and summons the lesser spirits to serve as an army for the cult [the little things on the game mode]

Kalista & Talon - spirit / demon: They are responsible for choosing the new sacrifices for the ritual

Jhin - demon: He is responsible for keeping the secrets of the cult and serve as a chronicler for them.

Now let’s talk about luna here,Her spirit is called Saibankan sanyangkkun [The spirit who kills spirits]. Luna’s sole purpose is to judge and resolve internal conflicts inside the order. She exists outside of any hierarchy into the cult of the blood moon.

Possessing even authority to go against Zilean or TF if she thinks she should. Also she is the only one capable, and with authority to kill other members. Being loyal only to her spirit guide and to the main objective of the cult that is to unite the spiritual and the physical world.

[Basically if someone starts a fight or is doing some bullshit in the cult, they call angry small foxy to kick your ass]

#Nv #lore #Hc #bloodmoon #if someone wants #i can talk more about it later #league of legends

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sithhoplite · 7 years

Text

The Duel

Lakadimos was fairly certain she had never trained as hard in her life as she had in the past three weeks, even on Felday when she should be resting she would train and it was paying off. She was once again able to hold her ground against her coach and had renewed confidence in her abilities. The hesitation she had shown earlier regarding her head injuries was gone. Lak attacked with full force and no fear. She did have to alter her attacks to a more hit and run style which compensated for the strength and experience that Emperor Marr had. The last thing she could have happen was to get in too close for too long. Once that happened his experience would show and the duel would end in short order.

Tomorrow would be the day she stepped into the ring with the Emperor and dueled him one on one. With the Dromund Kass Dueling Tournament starting, as the reigning Imperial Champion she would open it with an exhibition match. She had asked the Emperor to be her opponent not really expecting him to agree but he did. Lak considered it an honor that he agreed and was thrilled for the chance to face him in the ring. A small part of her was ruffled when she realized the Emperor would be the crowd favorite, not her. Despite the nerves that hit her the night before, she fell asleep fairly quickly next to Domisan.

Awaking the next morning she went through her usual pre-match routine, finding comfort for her nerves in it. Heading to the Veledrome three hours early she stepped out into the dueling ring and looked around the empty arena. Last time she set foot in here she had realized her dream and become the Single Saber Dueling Champion, the celebrations later that night were just as memorable. It was then that she and Darth Gravus had become lovers. Lak let the memories flood in and used them to steel her determination. Pulling out her saber she went through some general exercises to limber up and get a feel for the ring under her boots.

Darth Septum walked out and observed her doing her basic run through, waiting until she was finished, “ How are you feeling Lak? Nervous, scared, excited?”

“ Anxious but not nervous or scared. I look forward to the challenge. I won’t go down as easily as many people think.”

“Be mindful of your arrogance Lak, being confident is one thing, arrogant is another. You are the best among your peers, the Emperor is a whole other category.” Septum lectured

“I am well aware of that coach, all I am saying is those who think I will lose in under a minute will be disappointed. I have no illusions I will actually defeat the Emperor but I won’t be embarrassed either.”

“ Good. I am glad you are being realistic at least. For a moment I thought you might actually think you could beat him.” Septum teased

“Yea I might be confident in my abilities but I am not blindly stupid about them either. Marr has been holding a lightsaber longer than I have been alive. If I can manage to last more than 5 minutes that will be a victory for me. “

“Come on,” Spetum motioned,” Let’s get you ready, people will start coming in soon.”

Domisan and Darth Mortis walked into the locker room and saw Lak sitting in her locker, eyes closed, head bobbing to the music coming from her headphones. Her armor was polished but she had chosen to not wear her cape for the duel. Looking up at the two she nodded. Domisan gently probed the bond they had and found it open.

Are you ready Lak?

As ready as I am going to be. This will be the biggest challenge I have faced but I am ready and looking forward to it.

I look forward to seeing you out there, I love you

Love you too Dom

Domisan noticed she smiled at the same time she told him she loved him then the serious look came back to her face, all concentration. Mortis watched the interaction between the two realizing they must have been talking via telepathy.

“Shall we head to my box Domisan?”

“Yes my Lord of course.”

The energy of the Veledrome was electric, Imperials and Sith alike placing bets on how quickly the Emperor would dispatch Lakadimos. The Imperialis stood guard at the Royal Box where the Empress stood talking to her two apprentices. Mortis frowned at the sight of her still taken aback at how Marr had not only named her Empress but planned on marrying her as well. Darth’s Atroxa, Otium, Vowrawn and Tenere were in attendance for this exhibition bout.

Looking over at Domisan, his loyal second and now current love interest of his daughter he shook his head. He could not ignore the positive influence Domisan seemed to have on Lakadimos and the bond they had created seemed strong and firm. Mortis never would have guessed when Lakadimos returned to the Citadel after the debacle on Leritor her path would have taken her the way it had. She had seemed to heed his warning about being careful with their relationship. While he had been told they were often out on the town together they never let it influence their work thus he had been happy to let it progress. He ideally wondered what Gravus would think about her choice in lovers if he was still alive.

The crowd began to quiet down as the time for the duel approached. Over the loud speakers the announcer began.

“Welcome all, Lord and Imperials to the Veledrome. Tonight we will be treated to an exhibition match between two excellent swordsman. Their bout will usher in the beginning of the Dromund Kass Dueling Tournament!” A loud roar of applause came from the crowd. “ Coming out first, she is the current Imperial Single Saber Champion and will be defending her title in a years time, Lord Lakadimos.” Lak nodded to the crowd. Mortis noticed she was sans her helm.

“Her opponent is an Imperial Legend, a Sith whose record in battle is unparalleled. Let us welcome our Emperor Darth Marr.”

A loud roar came from the crowd as the Emperor entered the ring. Lak had to admit she was still getting used to seeing him without his mask. They both entered the ring, Lak bowed at the waist towards Marr then unsheathed her saber. He ignited his and they circled one another.

Looking at him with a smirk on her face, “I may fear you outside of this ring Emperor and I have the utmost respect for you, but this ring is my playground. I look forward to testing myself against you.”

She was barely finished when Marr leapt at her with a fury, she stumbled back and assumed her fighting stance. He tried to reign down a series of blows but Lak dodged to the side and parried them never getting too close. She lunged and stabbed to try and draw him off balance but he just swatted her strikes away. Realizing she was going to have to go in for quick bursts to do any damage at all she leapt and drove Marr back. He was on the defensive but quickly recovered. Turning away she could feel him take the initiative away from her and that was her cue to back up quickly. More than a few bets on how long she would last were paid up as they hit the three minute mark.

Lak almost lost her footing when Marr used a double handed blow, augmented by his strength advantage but she was able to absorb it. It was at this moment she realized Marr had been toying with her and was going in for the kill. Knowing she was no match for his strength or skill she pulled back and tried to put distance between them, Marr however was having none of it and closed just as quickly. Lak was now totally on the defensive and fighting for her life, she wondered for the briefest moment if Marr was going to actually kill her tonight.

She was trying everything to get him away from her but it wasn’t working and she knew it. There was only one thing left for her to do, go down swinging. Her pride would not let her do anything less. Knowing this bout was already lost she decided to give it everything she had before he won. Calling on all the anger, rage and skill she had she lept at him. Parrying his blows she lunged and tried to push him back. She could see he had an amused look on his face and that angered her more. Marr absorbed the strikes and a few times had to parry her well timed lunges but they never really were a threat to him. In the end he let her deplete her energy as she attacked while he conserved his. With a lunge he turned to her right, and caught her in the jaw with his hilt. Lak stumbled at the vicious hit and with one more blow she fell onto her back and looking up at him. It was over and she had lost.

Lak looked up at him, defiance written all over her face even as his lightsaber was pointed at her heart. Seconds seem to turn into minutes as she waited for the death blow to come. Instead of a lightsaber running her through she felt his boot on her right arm holding it down. Crying out in pain she began to turn to try and knock it off but was stopped by his boot kicking her back down. His foot pressed harder on her arm, pain ripping through it she cried out again.

“Do you yield?” it was framed as a question but for her to say no would mean a broken arm at the least and more than likely death

Mortis and Domisan stood up in his box watching this unfold. They could both feel the pain, anger and defiance coming from her. Through their bond her father’s voice came through clear.

Yield dammit, that is an order

Looking up at Marr, pain etched in her face but defiance in her eyes she nodded and gritted out through a clenched jaw, “I yield to you my Lord Emperor.”

Suddenly she felt her lightsaber force pulled from her hand. Marr clipped it to his belt and looked down on her ,”This will make an excellent gift for the Empress, she thanks you.”

Lak was beyond angry and knew he was taunting her, for a moment she wanted to say something but didn’t. She was already trapped and she could feel the bones in her arm starting to crack.

Turning to the now silent crowd Marr brought the full force of his boot onto her arm and it snapped. Her cry of pain rang out across the now silent Veledrome. Mortis hand dropped to the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared at the Emperor. Marr looked up at Mortis letting him know he saw where his hand was, his threat was not missed.

“Let this be a lesson to you, one can be an excellent swordsman as she is, but if one lacks respect for their superiors punishment will meted out to correct their behavior. Dueling is more than just a blade, it is also using your opponent's weaknesses against them. She fought well but using her eagerness to win she depleted her energy and left herself open to my assault. Even the best swordsman will get beaten when exhausted.”

Finally the pressure from his boot lifted off of her arm and she scurried backwards as quickly as she could. Fear was clear in her eyes as she retreated from the Emperor, he watched her leave wounded and afraid. Clutching her arm to her chest she walked back to the locker room, her pride wounded, arm broken and defeated for the first time in over a year in the dueling ring. Waiting for her was Dr. Wager, Darth Septum and Domisan.

“How long did I last out there?” she asked trying to deflect any yelling that may be coming her way

“A little over 6 minutes Lak, not bad.” Septum told her

“My Lord let me look at your arm please. I need to see how badly it is broken.” Wagner asked

Reaching out to Domisan with their bond,

How angry is Mortis?

He is rather angry, although less at you and more at the Emperor. Why did he take your saber and break your arm?

Our Emperor thinks I didn’t show him enough respect at the start of the duel and felt I needed to be punished.

Lak cried out as Wagner splinted her arm gently. “What the hell Doc you know it’s broken.”

“Look at me like that all you want, perhaps your arm wouldn’t be broken if the Emperor hadn’t put his boot on it my Lord. You need to come to the medcenter. The break is bad Lak, you are going to need surgery.” Wagner told her, showing no fear of her

“You could at least act like you fear me once in while Doc.”

“I will take it under advisement my Lord.”

Mortis came into the locker room, Lak quickly looked away still cradling her arm preparing herself to be punished by him. “Would you like to explain why the Emperor felt the need to take your lightsaber and break your arm? Think carefully as to how you answer this apprentice.”

“He told me I could have it back when I learned respect Master.” she told him, her voice quiet and posture submissive

“I see, and what did you do or say to him that made him think that?” his voice was cold and Lak knew that meant he was holding onto the last thread of his temper.

“I told him that I feared him outside the ring, but not in it. I looked forward to testing myself against him and the ring was my playground.” she braced herself for whatever was about to happen to her but nothing did

“Once again your inability to control your mouth has won over. I am proud as to how well you fought, much better than I expected but am very disappointed at your inability to show a modicum of maturity. That is not to say I am not unhappy with the Emperor humiliating you by breaking your arm and taking your saber.” He could feel her disappointment and self loathing.

Dropping to one knee and ignoring the shooting pain in her arm. Her head was bowed and eyes cast to the ground in total submission, “I’m sorry I disappointed you once again Father. I expect no mercy for my actions. My life is yours to do with as you wish.”

Mortis took a moment to decide what to do with her, she knew she had made a rather large mistake and had paid for it with a broken arm and public humiliation. As her Master he was in his right to punish her for her disrespect but in the end decided against it.

“Go to the medcenter Lakadimos and have Wagner fix your arm then tend to your wounded pride. The humiliation meted out by the Emperor is enough for tonight. Go be with Domisan.” Mortis turned to walk away when he felt an enormous surge of guilt, self loathing, and pain coming from her. Even with their bond muted he could still feel it.

The battle between the father and master was waging for Mortis. Part of him knew he should just leave and let her learn from this and another part, the steadily growing familial part wanted to comfort her. In the end he decided to let her tend to her own wounds and pride for the night. He was angry at the Emperor for breaking her arm but realized the need for her to be punished as well. One day he hoped she might actually listen and learn to control her mouth. Looking back he could see her leaning into Domisan, cradling her arm.

Dromund Kass General Hospital

Domisan arrived with Lakadimos at his side, the pain from her arm was radiating out. Doctor Wagner walked out and guided her to an examination room. As he looked over her arm, and the scans from it he had a grim look upon his face.

“I will be frank with you Lak, your arm is badly broken. This won’t be just a cast and wait, you are going to need at least a small plate and two screws in it. The Emperor’s boot didn’t just break your arm, in a few places it crushed it.”

“How long will I be out?” she gritted out

“At minimum 8 months, the plate, new bone and screws need to fuse and that is without a possible infection or your predilection for going back into training before being fully healed.” seeing the look on her face and knowing the question she was going to ask he answered it for her, “No, you will not be healed in enough time to defend your title. “

Two hours later

Lakadimos slowly came back to the land of the conscience and looked around. Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton and it took her a moment to get her bearings. Next to her Domisan was sleeping in a chair. A few moments later Wagner walked into the room and picked up her chart.

“Welcome back my lord,how do you feel?”

“Woozy and still out of it.” she shook her head trying to clear it. Domisan awoke and walked over to her, he brushed a lock of hair off her forehead. “How bad was it Doc?”

“It could have been worse but it was still bad. You now have three screws and a plate in your forearm. If all goes well it will take at minimum a year to get you back to normal and that is if you have zero setbacks, which honestly is very unlikely.”

“Thank you doctor.” her tone told Wagner he was dismissed

She turned her head away from Domisan as a tear ran down her face, the reality of what happened just hours before started to dawn on her. Closing her eyes and trying to force herself to say in control she closed herself mentally to Domisan and Mortis.

Domisan however was not going to let her do this. “No Lak you are not going to shut me out, not again. I am here for you even if you don’t want that right now. You would have done the same thing for me when I was injured a while back. Let me help you.”

Turning to look at him, the despair was clear in her eyes.

“So much for defending my title huh. Has anyone spoken to my father since I went into surgery?”

“Wagner has kept him updated on your condition. I would wager he will be here tomorrow to see you. Rest tonight agapi, you need it. I will be asleep next to you.”

Lakadimos drifted off to sleep despite the pain and despair she felt. Her dreams of defending her title crushed, her arm badly damaged and ego bruised. As Domisan watched her sleep he knew the recovery from this was going to be long and not just physical but mental and emotional as well. He also hoped that perhaps tonight the brutal reality of her actions would finally get her attention and put her right.

@inquisitorhotpants see how mean Marr is. ;)

#Lord Lakadimos #Lord Domisan #Darth Mortis #Darth Marr #Dueling #Snotty Sith

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