#i'm not japanese

[madmarchhare]

I have failed to give you updates on my other stories as I took a break from them, as my brain skipped tracks onto another story I had to get down. So here is an expert in an early-ish part of that one.

It is set in 1908 norther Japan. This is a small excerpt a while after the characters have already been introduced. I hope you all enjoy it. It is called :

The Monk and the Traveller

“I shall come with you to the next town then, I have some letters to send among other things,” he declared, moving to collect all of his belongings back into his rucksack. Cherry spun round to look at Collier, a flustered expression on his face.

“W-why?!” Cherry managed to force out, at a near total loss for words. Collier swung the now packed rucksack back over his shoulder, next to his Lee Speed and Type 35, taking a moment to adjust them then strode forward, ahead of the monk.

“Not everything needs a reason my good sir! Often just being mildly interesting is enough!” he called back in a boisterous yet sagely tone, Cherry staring after the whirlwind that had just blew past him. He took a second to grumble then stormed forward to the man. Even if his company could be… interesting, he was more likely to get a bed and a meal. Collier marched forward at a confident pace, not a single item on his person rattling, near silent as he strode forward a talent he had learned on his travels. It unnerved the monk. Cherry regarded the man oddly, like one would a spirit that had sat beside you for a meal.

“By they way, Cherry,” Collier began in a curious tone, thinning rain pattering off his bucket hat, “why do you dress like a Shinto priest despite being Buddhist?” Cherry looked up at him with a plain expression, less surprised the foreigner knew the difference than he might’ve been before.

“My-the leader of my temple decided to change our vestments and some our rituals to more closely match Shinto traditions around the time the government began to favour it over Buddhism. He thought it would make our temple more appealing to officials and the locals… He was right for the most part, annoyingly,” Cherry explained drolly, a note of annoyance in his voice as he begrudgingly acknowledged the plans’ success. Or more accurately that that man’s plan succeeded. Collier looked at him with an interested but respectful expression, deciding not to pry in his acquaintances life so soon.

“What about you?” Cherry queried in a sober tone, Collier looking back at him with an enquiring expression, “How do you know so much about Buddhism and Shintoism? You are a foreigner after all,” he finished bluntly, glancing back at the man as the rain finally died away, abandoning the light breeze that had accompanied it.

Collier wore an easy expression, one that seemed to say ‘oh is that all’, “I often spend time in the Raj for hunting and other things. I spent a while at some of the old Buddhist temples and monasteries to learn their teachings. Though I went to other ones as well, I spent some time with Islamists for about a year and two with the Sikhs up in the North-west frontier. I cannot encourage you enough to travel there. Beauty beyond dreams…” Collier trailed off wistfully, staring out ahead of him as he walked, holding his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at the traveller with a stunned expression. “As for Shintoism,” he brusquely resumed, “I came here to Japan a while ago, just after your war with Russia. I mostly stayed in Hokkaido and southern Karafuto[1] hunting with the Ainu, but I also learnt a bit about the Shinto faith from a temple further north. Though I should add that I learn most of Japanese before the trip, just enough to get by,” he added flippantly taking a long stride to get past a small stream that had cut across the path, its source likely having flooded due to the rain. Cherry looked at Collier with a bewildered expression as the hunter outpaced him, leaving the monk to watch the back of his head, or more aptly his hat.

He was strange. That was what Cherry decided, influenced by his sour disposition against the man. He followed on nonetheless, he saw no reason to put much effort in avoiding the man. The journey was not long now, and having traveling companion with loose purse strings could be helpful. Especially considering how the monk was nearly always skint. The sky was grey for a while, exhausted rainclouds lingering in the sky like a now silent orchestra. When the sky broke out into sun, around quarter to eleven, the forest glowed with beauty. Though, it had been so before as well.

Collier’s eyes would dance between flowers and trees glittering from the dew like a child in a sweetshop, grinning as he saw animals busy past. He stopped every so often to pull out a book to jot something down or sketch as he observed some odd bit of flora or fauna. Cherry would begrudgingly wait nearby, taking a moment to pray, occasionally hearing the other man mumble to himself in English as he worked, along with one or two other languages he couldn’t identify. Other times he would walk while he jotted down shorthand notes, not that Cherry could read them.

He spoke in long, drawn out tangents about various animals or other things, denoting how he had seen them when he was out hunting or had gone out specifically for them. He rambled about this that and otherwise while the monk occasionally chimed in, mostly tuning the man out when he spoke. And yet, so much of the journey was silent, the golden atmosphere shining under the summer sun. It was in this silence that Cherry noticed another thing about Collier, how he seemed a presence near you. Distinct and clear. Yet, he walked silently, indeed none of his equipment rattled or made a distinct noise, bar from the swish of fabric or his deliberate steps, somehow light despite his heavy boots and height. He had the presence of a hunter, even as he stood by you smiling like you were a decades old companion, he felt like a hare watched by a kitsune.[2]

They walked for a long while until they came close to the town, encountering a pair of young men with nets draped over their shoulders, one walking barefoot while the other wore sandals. Both wore plain yukata’s the one who wore sandals having his much more finely adjusted.

“Good morning my dear sirs,” Cherry declared, bowing to them as he offered a prayer to them, Collier smiling at them as he tipped his hat to the two men, who bowed in response, the barefooted man ducking out of it before the other and staring at Collier curiously. “I am currently traveling in hope to bring aid and enlightenment to myself and any I may meet. I am looking for Aisuge, am I correct in assuming it is this way?” gesturing with his staff as he smiled at the men, a wide Cheshire cat grin once again fixed on his face.

The man in sandals nodded, pointing down the path before he spoke, “yes, if you just follow this path, you will find it shortly,” he instructed, his words stilted as if he had trouble talking, though his face seemed quite intelligent.

“Thank you for your kindness, may the Buddha bless your endeavours,” Cherry bade them, a grace like that of a priest surrounding him as he did, bowing as he offered them a prayer. He spun and continued down the path determinedly while Collier stopped to talk to the, as he discovered, fisherman. Cherry walked on while Collier chatted to the two men about fishing spots, and what they recommended as certain baits for the area or where waterfowl tended to be. The town was much larger than the last one, the streets being paved and a few western style buildings rising out of construction sites, though not many. He smiled and waived at a few people as he passed, offering brusque but sincere prayers to them as he dashed to the post office, near single minded in his search.

He found it after a while, a rather small building made of wood constructed in a western style, comparatively new compared to the buildings that pressed against it on either side. A post man was walking out of the entrance as Cherry approached, tipping his hat to greet the Monk, rushing off to his deliveries. He pushed open the door and walked in, the clerk looking up from the newspaper he was reading with a surprised expression. He was a young man dressed in a postman’s uniform, a dark blue hakama with white kanji characters on it denoting his job, a white scarf pattered with flowers at the tips wrapped around his neck seemingly his own personal touch. His hair was done in a bowl-cut but with a trimmed back fringe, pitch black like ink. “Good afternoon,” he muttered weakly, offering a nervous smile to Cherry.

“Good afternoon,” Cherry replied kindly, smiling at the man with a look of zen on his face, “do you have any mail for a Nekomata Sakuranbou?”[3] He leaned over the man as he asked, a pensive smile pulled over his features.

The clerk seemed to settle down, and nodded jerkily, “yes, I do believe we have some mail for that name. I was wondering why the address was so strange,” he replied, rifling through a assortment of letters then picking one out, “but I suppose a wandering monk wouldn’t have one would he…?” he trailed off weakly, smiling at his own joke. His voice was frail, thin, seemingly straining just to be audible though he smiled at Cherry. His face then shifted into a harder expressions he pulled the letter away, almost shielding it with his person, “you are Nekomata-san? Aren’t you?” he questioned sternly squinting at the monk.

Cherry smiled at him still, rolling his eyes underneath his eyelids, “yes, I am, why else would I ask for that name?” Cherry responded, forcing his words to sound sweet, cocking his head at the man while he gripped his hands together, balancing his staff in the crook of his arm.          

“You could want to know his information so that you could rob him,” the clerk offered innocently, Cherry cursing that the man didn’t get that the question was rhetorical, “or you could be trying to steal his identity, or wanting to curse him for despoiling the shrine you work at… Or you could be a yokai!” the young man cried excitedly, smiling giddily.

“I am not a yokai! I am a monk!” Cherry snapped indignantly, waiving his staff at the young man, who flinched back in response.

“A tanuki then? Though you being a Nekomata would be more obvious…” he again muttered weakly, still recoiled like a frightened cat, his arms splayed ahead of him.

“No!” Cherry again snapped, then calming down and sighing, “I’m just here for my mail please, I’m not a yokai, I am the Nekomata the letter is mean for,” he droned exhaustedly, wanting to move past the charade quickly.

The young man blinked then relaxed, “oh, yeah sure,” holding the letter out for the monk who quickly snatched it from his hands and tore it open, pouring over it quickly, panic in his eyes. Then he saw a specific line on the letter and visible slackened, his face relaxing significantly as he read on at a more leisurely pace. When he finished the letter he lowered it, a relived expression on his face as he tucked it into the sleeve of his robe.

“They’re alright,” he muttered serenely, smiling to himself as he turned back around to the clerk, now back by his desk. “Do you happen to have a piece of paper? I need to send a reply,” Cherry asked levelly, smiling slightly at the man.

The clerk flustered for a moment, “oh, yes, sure,” he babbled quickly, sifting through shelves to grab a piece of writing paper and an envelope before shoving the former towards the holy man.

“Thank you,” Cherry replied dignifiedly, drawing the piece of paper closer while he pulled out a yatate[4] from his belt, a beautiful piece made of shakudō[5], the metal having darkened into a deep black-indigo colour. He opened it and withdrew the brush from it, the smoking-pipe shaped piece holding it in its neck, and snapped open the lid of the ink box with his little finger before he pressed the brush’s bristles into the oil-damp cotton that was sat inside it. He pulled the genkō yōshi[6] paper under his pen and began writing.Cherry’s witing was somewhat scruffy, often taking liberties in how he would form kanji or katanaka where he assumed the letters recipient would know what he meant. His prose, however, was not lacking. The words he wrote were quite eloquent, though he flip-flopped between formality and closeness depending on who he mentioned in the letter. He finished after a moment, washing and drying the brush before slotting it back into its compartment and snapping shut the ink box before hiding it back around his belt.

“Please may you deliver this,” pressing the paper towards the clerk who was ready with an envelope, “to Nekomata ­­__ , they live at the Buddhist ­temple near Yamagata. If you can’t find it, give the letter to Akisei Makoto, he’ll get it to her,” he instructed dully, seemingly used to giving these orders.

The clerk flashed a cheeky smile at his customer, “a letter to a fiancé or wife?” he asked slyly, but received a look of horror and disgust from the monk in response.

“It’s for my Onee-san[7],” he responded insulted, seeming to cringe away from the clerk.

“Ah, sorry,” the clerk blurted out flustered, looking somewhat hurt at his won joke reception regardless. He sealed the letter in an envelope and pulled stamp from a drawer in his desk, “Alright, that’ll be six yen,” the clerk declared, moving the stamp and letter towards Cherry, though keeping his hands on both. The skint monk looked at him silently for a moment, before shifting his staff to his other hand.

“My dear sir,” he began darkly bowing his back to he was closer to eye-level with the man, “I have neglected to inform you until now, but I believe you may be possessed by a spirit,” he fabricated, though the other man seemed to twitch at that, his scarf fluttering from the movement longer than it should’ve, though Cherry decided to put it aside for the moment. “But, I am more than willing and qualified to aid you. I simply need six yen to begin the exorcism,” he finished grandly, again his eyes being caught by the scarf around the clerk’s neck, now seemingly tighter than before. The clerk tugged at the scarf with one finger nervously while he smiled at Cherry, and uneasy smile on his face.

“N-no, I’m fine, thank you,” he replied, stammering slightly.

“Are you sure?” Cherry replied in slight surprise. Though how much of it was a show was anyone’s guess.

“Yes! I’m quite fine, but I don’t mind paying for your stamp! It’ll be delivered as soon as the postman comes back,” he babbled out nervously, squirming in his own clothes under the monk’s gaze. Cherry looked slightly perturbed in response, narrowing his eyes at the man to study him further.

“Very well… But, I must insist that you call for me if you need help with spirits or if you simply wish to talk,” the monk offered sincerely, a stern faced look on his face.

“Thank you for the offer, Nekomata-san,” he called back nervously as the monk moved to leave, chuckling slightly, “I’ll, uh, keep it in mind.”

“Thank you…” Cherry began to say as he left, trailing off as he came to the unknown of the clerks name.

“Okade,” the clerk blurted out, trying to rush out the monk.

“Okade-san, again I am more than willing to help. May you find great fortune,” he called as he spun to leave, waving to Okade with one hand as he gave his blessing. Okade stared out after the Buddhist as he left, placing a shaking hand on his scarf which shifted under his touch.

Cherry strode calmly out of the post office, glancing down at a cluster of young children who were playing near the patio’s edge. When the first one spotted him his face twisted into the shock horror of a student seeing their teacher outside of class, turning tale and running before he even considered telling his friends. A few other boys looked up, taking on similar looks and dashing away like petty thieves who spotted a policeman. They abandoned the rest.

“Children seem to take after sparrows”, Cherry muttered to himself, sauntering over to the remaining boys, along with one girl who had not been warned. He loomed over them watching what game they were playing. Marbles, it seemed. They had quite a few, ranging from dull clay to beautiful pattered glass. After a moment, the girl seemed to notice the shadow that now hung over them and looked up at Cherry, the other boys looking up as well. They all again stiffened, worried they would be told off or cursed.

“Who’s winning?” Cherry asked simply, a deadpan expression on his face, bar a slight smile at the corner of his lips. They looked perplexed at first but seemed to brighten up once they realized he was not there to scold them.

“I am!” the girl piped up in a boisterous tone, smiling a widely, revealing a pair of missing teeth, one on the left of her top jaw, the other on the right of her bottom jaw. One of the other boys, this one with shirt cropped hair, turned to her with an irate expression.

“That’s because you’re cheating! I’m winning really!” the boy accused her, looking up confidently as he finished his retort.

“No I am not!” the girl snapped shoving her face into the boys with a snarling expression.

“Yes you are!” the boy disputed. They continued on returning shots to each other as if passing a ball while the other boys looked at them boredly, likely having seen the performance multiple times before.                                 

[1] Japanese name for Sakhalin, an island to the North of the Japanese Island of Hokkaido and to the East of the Russian region of Siberia around Vladivostok. Fully controlled by Russia after the Second World War.

[2] Kitsune, a type of Japanese Yokai (Spirit or monster), that looks like a fox. Some may have multiple tails.

[3] Cherry’s full name. Sakuranbou, his given name, means Cherry, which he prefers to be called. But, in Kanji it literally means ‘a deranged monk’. Nekomata, his family name, means ‘Cat Spirit’.

[4] A portable Japanese writing implement

[5]

[6]

[7] A Japanese honorific used to refer to ones older sister, or a female friend you are friendly with, with their permission.

@thewormsheep @ninety-s-kid @mimigoey @https-true-egoist @httpghostface @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @sleepy-gry

@shax-lied @shandzii @shark-smuggler

#creative writing #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #fiction #japan #i'm not japanese #if i make errors please god do advise me #i'm trying my best with wikipedia #google maps #and some documents #HMAD #the monk and the traveller #Elisah P Collier #Nekomata 'Cherry' Sakuranbou

[duckprintspress]

when you reblog, tell us what languages in the tags!!

#polls #for me it's english japanese korean italian spanish and german #remarkably there's no chinese that i can think of #i need to change that srsly #now i'm just running through languages and songs in my head to make sure i haven't missed any lmao #oh there's a swahili song i love and it WASN'T on my playlist BUT IT IS NOW #okay yeah I think that's everything #also if you saw this for a split second and then it disappeared no you didn't #i forgot to set time to a week oops

[sealsdaily]

Today's Seal Is: Super Hyper Ultra Ultimate Deluxe Perfect Amazing Strong Cute Beautiful Galaxy Baby Infinite Undefeatable Warrior Nenechi

#seals #pinniped #daily #spotted seal #Just as a preface i am not versed at ALL in japanese but i think the “dou?” at the end could also be like a “well?” #like “whaddya think about that huh” but dont @ me. I'm just the seal guy

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Interiors

As a followup to the very popular post on architecture, I decided to add onto it by exploring the interior of each movement and the different design techniques and tastes of each era. This post at be helpful for historical fiction, fantasy or just a long read when you're bored.

Interior Design Terms

Reeding and fluting: Fluting is a technique that consists a continuous pattern of concave grooves in a flat surface across a surface. Reeding is it's opposite.

Embossing: stamping, carving or moulding a symbol to make it stand out on a surface.

Paneling: Panels of carved wood or fabric a fixed to a wall in a continuous pattern.

Gilding: the use of gold to highlight features.

Glazed Tile: Ceramic or porcelain tiles coated with liquid coloured glass or enamel.

Column: A column is a pillar of stone or wood built to support a ceiling. We will see more of columns later on.

Bay Window: The Bay Window is a window projecting outward from a building.

Frescos: A design element of painting images upon wet plaster.

Mosaic: Mosaics are a design element that involves using pieces of coloured glass and fitted them together upon the floor or wall to form images.

Mouldings: ornate strips of carved wood along the top of a wall.

Wainscoting: paneling along the lower portion of a wall.

Chinoiserie: A European take on East Asian art. Usually seen in wallpaper.

Clerestory: A series of eye-level windows.

Sconces: A light fixture supported on a wall.

Niche: A sunken area within a wall.

Monochromatic: Focusing on a single colour within a scheme.

Ceiling rose: A moulding fashioned on the ceiling in the shape of a rose usually supporting a light fixture.

Baluster: the vertical bars of a railing.

Façade: front portion of a building

Lintel: Top of a door or window.

Portico: a covered structure over a door supported by columns

Eaves: the part of the roof overhanging from the building

Skirting: border around lower length of a wall

Ancient Greece

Houses were made of either sun-dried clay bricks or stone which were painted when they dried. Ground floors were decorated with coloured stones and tiles called Mosaics. Upper level floors were made from wood. Homes were furnished with tapestries and furniture, and in grand homes statues and grand altars would be found. Furniture was very skillfully crafted in Ancient Greece, much attention was paid to the carving and decoration of such things. Of course, Ancient Greece is ancient so I won't be going through all the movements but I will talk a little about columns.

Doric: Doric is the oldest of the orders and some argue it is the simplest. The columns of this style are set close together, without bases and carved with concave curves called flutes. The capitals (the top of the column) are plain often built with a curve at the base called an echinus and are topped by a square at the apex called an abacus. The entablature is marked by frieze of vertical channels/triglyphs. In between the channels would be detail of carved marble. The Parthenon in Athens is your best example of Doric architecture.

Ionic: The Ionic style was used for smaller buildings and the interiors. The columns had twin volutes, scroll-like designs on its capital. Between these scrolls, there was a carved curve known as an egg and in this style the entablature is much narrower and the frieze is thick with carvings. The example of Ionic Architecture is the Temple to Athena Nike at the Athens Acropolis.

Corinthian: The Corinthian style has some similarities with the Ionic order, the bases, entablature and columns almost the same but the capital is more ornate its base, column, and entablature, but its capital is far more ornate, commonly carved with depictions of acanthus leaves. The style was more slender than the others on this list, used less for bearing weight but more for decoration. Corinthian style can be found along the top levels of the Colosseum in Rome.

Tuscan: The Tuscan order shares much with the Doric order, but the columns are un-fluted and smooth. The entablature is far simpler, formed without triglyphs or guttae. The columns are capped with round capitals.

Composite: This style is mixed. It features the volutes of the Ionic order and the capitals of the Corinthian order. The volutes are larger in these columns and often more ornate. The column's capital is rather plain. for the capital, with no consistent differences to that above or below the capital.

Ancient Rome

Rome is well known for its outward architectural styles. However the Romans did know how to add that rizz to the interior. Ceilings were either vaulted or made from exploded beams that could be painted. The Romans were big into design. Moasics were a common interior sight, the use of little pieces of coloured glass or stone to create a larger image. Frescoes were used to add colour to the home, depicting mythical figures and beasts and also different textures such as stonework or brick. The Romans loved their furniture. Dining tables were low and the Romans ate on couches. Weaving was a popular pastime so there would be tapestries and wall hangings in the house. Rich households could even afford to import fine rugs from across the Empire. Glass was also a feature in Roman interior but windows were usually not paned as large panes were hard to make. Doors were usually treated with panels that were carved or in lain with bronze.

Ancient Egypt

Egypt was one of the first great civilisations, known for its immense and grand structures. Wealthy Egyptians had grand homes. The walls were painted or plastered usually with bright colours and hues. The Egyptians are cool because they mapped out their buildings in such a way to adhere to astrological movements meaning on special days if the calendar the temple or monuments were in the right place always. The columns of Egyptian where thicker, more bulbous and often had capitals shaped like bundles of papyrus reeds. Woven mats and tapestries were popular decor. Motifs from the river such as palms, papyrus and reeds were popular symbols used.

Ancient Africa

African Architecture is a very mixed bag and more structurally different and impressive than Hollywood would have you believe. Far beyond the common depictions of primitive buildings, the African nations were among the giants of their time in architecture, no style quite the same as the last but just as breathtaking.

Rwandan Architecture: The Rwandans commonly built of hardened clay with thatched roofs of dried grass or reeds. Mats of woven reeds carpeted the floors of royal abodes. These residences folded about a large public area known as a karubanda and were often so large that they became almost like a maze, connecting different chambers/huts of all kinds of uses be they residential or for other purposes.

Ashanti Architecture: The Ashanti style can be found in present day Ghana. The style incorporates walls of plaster formed of mud and designed with bright paint and buildings with a courtyard at the heart, not unlike another examples on this post. The Ashanti also formed their buildings of the favourite method of wattle and daub.

Nubian Architecture: Nubia, in modern day Ethiopia, was home to the Nubians who were one of the world's most impressive architects at the beginning of the architecture world and probably would be more talked about if it weren't for the Egyptians building monuments only up the road. The Nubians were famous for building the speos, tall tower-like spires carved of stone. The Nubians used a variety of materials and skills to build, for example wattle and daub and mudbrick. The Kingdom of Kush, the people who took over the Nubian Empire was a fan of Egyptian works even if they didn't like them very much. The Kushites began building pyramid-like structures such at the sight of Gebel Barkal

Japanese Interiors

Japenese interior design rests upon 7 principles. Kanso (簡素)- Simplicity, Fukinsei (不均整)- Asymmetry, Shizen (自然)- Natural, Shibumi (渋味) – Simple beauty, Yugen (幽玄)- subtle grace, Datsuzoku (脱俗) – freedom from habitual behaviour, Seijaku (静寂)- tranquillity.

Common features of Japanese Interior Design:

Shoji walls: these are the screens you think of when you think of the traditional Japanese homes. They are made of wooden frames, rice paper and used to partition

Tatami: Tatami mats are used within Japanese households to blanket the floors. They were made of rice straw and rush straw, laid down to cushion the floor.

Genkan: The Genkan was a sunken space between the front door and the rest of the house. This area is meant to separate the home from the outside and is where shoes are discarded before entering.

Japanese furniture: often lowest, close to the ground. These include tables and chairs but often tanked are replaced by zabuton, large cushions. Furniture is usually carved of wood in a minimalist design.

Nature: As both the Shinto and Buddhist beliefs are great influences upon architecture, there is a strong presence of nature with the architecture. Wood is used for this reason and natural light is prevalent with in the home. The orientation is meant to reflect the best view of the world.

Islamic World Interior

The Islamic world has one of the most beautiful and impressive interior design styles across the world. Colour and detail are absolute staples in the movement. Windows are usually not paned with glass but covered in ornate lattices known as jali. The jali give ventilation, light and privacy to the home. Islamic Interiors are ornate and colourful, using coloured ceramic tiles. The upper parts of walls and ceilings are usually flat decorated with arabesques (foliate ornamentation), while the lower wall areas were usually tiled. Features such as honeycombed ceilings, horseshoe arches, stalactite-fringed arches and stalactite vaults (Muqarnas) are prevalent among many famous Islamic buildings such as the Alhambra and the Blue Mosque.

Byzantine (330/395–1453 A. D)

The Byzantine Empire or Eastern Roman Empire was where eat met west, leading to a melting pot of different interior designs based on early Christian styles and Persian influences. Mosaics are probably what you think of when you think of the Byzantine Empire. Ivory was also a popular feature in the Interiors, with carved ivory or the use of it in inlay. The use of gold as a decorative feature usually by way of repoussé (decorating metals by hammering in the design from the backside of the metal). Fabrics from Persia, heavily embroidered and intricately woven along with silks from afar a field as China, would also be used to upholster furniture or be used as wall hangings. The Byzantines favoured natural light, usually from the use of copolas.

Indian Interiors

India is of course, the font of all intricate designs. India's history is sectioned into many eras but we will focus on a few to give you an idea of prevalent techniques and tastes.

The Gupta Empire (320 – 650 CE): The Gupta era was a time of stone carving. As impressive as the outside of these buildings are, the Interiors are just as amazing. Gupta era buildings featured many details such as ogee (circular or horseshoe arch), gavaksha/chandrashala (the motif centred these arches), ashlar masonry (built of squared stone blocks) with ceilings of plain, flat slabs of stone.

Delhi Sultanate (1206–1526): Another period of beautifully carved stone. The Delhi sultanate had influence from the Islamic world, with heavy uses of mosaics, brackets, intricate mouldings, columns and and hypostyle halls.

Mughal Empire (1526–1857): Stonework was also important on the Mughal Empire. Intricately carved stonework was seen in the pillars, low relief panels depicting nature images and jalis (marble screens). Stonework was also decorated in a stye known as pietra dura/parchin kari with inscriptions and geometric designs using colored stones to create images. Tilework was also popular during this period. Moasic tiles were cut and fitted together to create larger patters while cuerda seca tiles were coloured tiles outlined with black.

Chinese Interiors

Common features of Chinese Interiors

Use of Colours: Colour in Chinese Interior is usually vibrant and bold. Red and Black are are traditional colours, meant to bring luck, happiness, power, knowledge and stability to the household.

Latticework: Lattices are a staple in Chinese interiors most often seen on shutters, screens, doors of cabinets snf even traditional beds.

Lacquer: Multiple coats of lacquer are applied to furniture or cabinets (now walls) and then carved. The skill is called Diaoqi (雕漆).

Decorative Screens: Screens are used to partition off part of a room. They are usually of carved wood, pained with very intricate murals.

Shrines: Spaces were reserved on the home to honour ancestors, usually consisting of an altar where offerings could be made.

Of course, Chinese Interiors are not all the same through the different eras. While some details and techniques were interchangeable through different dynasties, usually a dynasty had a notable style or deviation. These aren't all the dynasties of course but a few interesting examples.

Song Dynasty (960–1279): The Song Dynasty is known for its stonework. Sculpture was an important part of Song Dynasty interior. It was in this period than brick and stone work became the most used material. The Song Dynasty was also known for its very intricate attention to detail, paintings, and used tiles.

Ming Dynasty(1368–1644): Ceilings were adorned with cloisons usually featuring yellow reed work. The floors would be of flagstones usually of deep tones, mostly black. The Ming Dynasty favoured richly coloured silk hangings, tapestries and furnishings. Furniture was usually carved of darker woods, arrayed in a certain way to bring peace to the dwelling.

Han Dynasty (206 BC-220 AD): Interior walls were plastered and painted to show important figures and scenes. Lacquer, though it was discovered earlier, came into greater prominence with better skill in this era.

Tang Dynasty (618–907) : The colour palette is restrained, reserved. But the Tang dynasty is not without it's beauty. Earthenware reached it's peak in this era, many homes would display fine examples as well. The Tang dynasty is famous for its upturned eaves, the ceilings supported by timber columns mounted with metal or stone bases. Glazed tiles were popular in this era, either a fixed to the roof or decorating a screen wall.

Romanesque (6th -11th century/12th)

Romanesque Architecture is a span between the end of Roman Empire to the Gothic style. Taking inspiration from the Roman and Byzantine Empires, the Romanesque period incorporates many of the styles. The most common details are carved floral and foliage symbols with the stonework of the Romanesque buildings. Cable mouldings or twisted rope-like carvings would have framed doorways. As per the name, Romansque Interiors relied heavily on its love and admiration for Rome. The Romanesque style uses geometric shapes as statements using curves, circles snf arches. The colours would be clean and warm, focusing on minimal ornamentation.

Gothic Architecture (12th Century - 16th Century)

The Gothic style is what you think of when you think of old European cathedrals and probably one of the beautiful of the styles on this list and one of most recognisable. The Gothic style is a dramatic, opposing sight and one of the easiest to describe. Decoration in this era became more ornate, stonework began to sport carving and modelling in a way it did not before. The ceilings moved away from barreled vaults to quadripartite and sexpartite vaulting. Columns slimmed as other supportive structures were invented. Intricate stained glass windows began their popularity here. In Gothic structures, everything is very symmetrical and even.

Mediaeval (500 AD to 1500)

Interiors of mediaeval homes are not quite as drab as Hollywood likes to make out. Building materials may be hidden by plaster in rich homes, sometimes even painted. Floors were either dirt strewn with rushes or flagstones in larger homes. Stonework was popular, especially around fireplaces. Grand homes would be decorated with intricate woodwork, carved heraldic beasts and wall hangings of fine fabrics.

Renaissance (late 1300s-1600s)

The Renaissance was a period of great artistry and splendor. The revival of old styles injected symmetry and colour into the homes. Frescoes were back. Painted mouldings adorned the ceilings and walls. Furniture became more ornate, fixed with luxurious upholstery and fine carvings. Caryatids (pillars in the shape of women), grotesques, Roman and Greek images were used to spruce up the place. Floors began to become more intricate, with coloured stone and marble. Modelled stucco, sgraffiti arabesques (made by cutting lines through a layer of plaster or stucco to reveal an underlayer), and fine wall painting were used in brilliant combinations in the early part of the 16th century.

Tudor Interior (1485-1603)

The Tudor period is a starkly unique style within England and very recognisable. Windows were fixed with lattice work, usually casement. Stained glass was also in in this period, usually depicting figures and heraldic beasts. Rooms would be panelled with wood or plastered. Walls would be adorned with tapestries or embroidered hangings. Windows and furniture would be furnished with fine fabrics such as brocade. Floors would typically be of wood, sometimes strewn with rush matting mixed with fresh herbs and flowers to freshen the room.

Baroque (1600 to 1750)

The Baroque period was a time for splendor and for splashing the cash. The interior of a baroque room was usually intricate, usually of a light palette, featuring a very high ceiling heavy with detail. Furniture would choke the room, ornately carved and stitched with very high quality fabrics. The rooms would be full of art not limited to just paintings but also sculptures of marble or bronze, large intricate mirrors, moldings along the walls which may be heavily gilded, chandeliers and detailed paneling.

Victorian (1837-1901)

We think of the interiors of Victorian homes as dowdy and dark but that isn't true. The Victorians favoured tapestries, intricate rugs, decorated wallpaper, exquisitely furniture, and surprisingly, bright colour. Dyes were more widely available to people of all stations and the Victorians did not want for colour. Patterns and details were usually nature inspired, usually floral or vines. Walls could also be painted to mimic a building material such as wood or marble and most likely painted in rich tones. The Victorians were suckers for furniture, preferring them grandly carved with fine fabric usually embroidered or buttoned. And they did not believe in minimalism. If you could fit another piece of furniture in a room, it was going in there. Floors were almost eclusively wood laid with the previously mentioned rugs. But the Victorians did enjoy tiled floors but restricted them to entrances. The Victorians were quite in touch with their green thumbs so expect a lot of flowers and greenery inside. with various elaborately decorated patterned rugs. And remember, the Victorians loved to display as much wealth as they could. Every shelf, cabinet, case and ledge would be chocked full of ornaments and antiques.

Edwardian/The Gilded Age/Belle Epoque (1880s-1914)

This period (I've lumped them together for simplicity) began to move away from the deep tones and ornate patterns of the Victorian period. Colour became more neutral. Nature still had a place in design. Stained glass began to become popular, especially on lampshades and light fixtures. Embossing started to gain popularity and tile work began to expand from the entrance halls to other parts of the house. Furniture began to move away from dark wood, some families favouring breathable woods like wicker. The rooms would be less cluttered.

Art Deco (1920s-1930s)

The 1920s was a time of buzz and change. Gone were the refined tastes of the pre-war era and now the wow factor was in. Walls were smoother, buildings were sharper and more jagged, doorways and windows were decorated with reeding and fluting. Pastels were in, as was the heavy use of black and white, along with gold. Mirrors and glass were in, injecting light into rooms. Gold, silver, steel and chrome were used in furnishings and decor. Geometric shapes were a favourite design choice. Again, high quality and bold fabrics were used such as animal skins or colourful velvet. It was all a rejection of the Art Noveau movement, away from nature focusing on the man made.

Modernism (1930 - 1965)

Modernism came after the Art Deco movement. Fuss and feathers were out the door and now, practicality was in. Materials used are shown as they are, wood is not painted, metal is not coated. Bright colours were acceptable but neutral palettes were favoured. Interiors were open and favoured large windows. Furniture was practical, for use rather than the ornamentation, featuring plain details of any and geometric shapes. Away from Art Deco, everything is straight, linear and streamlined.

#This took forever #I'm very tired #But enjoy #I covered as much as I could find #Fantasy Guide to interiors #interior design #Architecture #writings #writing resources #Writing reference #Writing advice #Writer's research #writing research #Writer's rescources #Writing help #Mediaeval #Renaissance #Chinese Interiors #Japanese Interiors #Indian interiors #writing #writeblr #writing reference #writing advice #writer #spilled words #writers

[ask-king-bowser]

Bowser and obviously don't know Japanese

あなたはそれについて確信がありますか

#i'm not japanese #don't send japaness asks plz #i used a translator lmao

[emilyinhalf]

The butchest woman elves can handle before they start getting scared.

#dungeon meshi #farcille #i'm 100% here for soft butch tgirl falin don't get me wrong #i can't read japanese but i've seen this page translated and marcille is saying something along the line of ''those are men's clothes!''

[def2song]

trying to uncurse williams

#f1 #formula 1 #alex albon #williams racing #I'm ready to sacrifice my firstborn #japanese gp 2024 #chinese gp 2024

[kichiyosh1]

☆࿐ཽ༵༆༒

Imagine you and scaramouche have a language barrier and only talk through translations and one day he started learning english so he can express his feelings to you

"I r-rye— I ryek yu— " but he's having a hard time pronouncing it.

"Aghhh kuso! suki da! daisuki da yo!" (Aghhh damnit! i like you! i really like you!)

He's just screaming in japanese while you're waiting there for him to sizzle down so you can say you like him too.

(was meant as modern!au)

#IT'S NOT CRINGE IT'S CUTE #I'm still learning N5 japanese but ya'll just try to get my point okay I think he'd sound really cute trying to pronounce english words #like my heart would throb at the cuteness😭 #when he learns another language for you #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi

[10zitten10]

Do you like to use the Mushroom Cloud as a fun Barbieheimer meme? If you do, it's fine so long as you know what the cloud caused and what it symbolizes. If you don't know the circumstances of the mushroom cloud, please search ''Hiroshima Nagasaki atomic bomb people (with your safe search off)' on Google Images. *The images are very disturbing. Please DO NOT try it if you are sensitive to extremely disturbing images.

I'm Japanese. In Japan, unfortunately, many people have never seen the old pictures of the real effects of the mushroom cloud. We learn about the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki (both are cities in Japan) in primary school or junior high, when we are about 10-14 years old. Many adults think it's too risky to show children the pictures because it shows human bodies, which look like human charcoal. Living people got severe burns on their faces, their backs, and their whole bodies looked like melting wax (additionally, most of the people in the pictures are citizens, not soldiers. There are many kids, babies, and old people, of course.) Even though it happened in our land, many people (including me, I'm ashamed to say though) don't feel it was an actual event because it seems very unreal and it happened almost 80 years ago. Fortunately, I had a chance to learn about the atomic bombing and see several pictures of it. Now I know what happened in 1945. I think some people here/outside of Japan realize it as well.

I don't blame people born outside of Japan who have never known/learned about the effects of the atomic bombing. I want to ask you to learn and understand what happened under that iconic mushroom cloud before you make a meme with it. If you think 'So what?' after that, I will have nothing more to say to you.

I've not seen Barbie or Oppenheimer because they are not released here yet. But I feel they are both very interesting. I'm looking forward to watching them. I wish I could have fun watching them without any distractions before going to the theatres.

Don't get me wrong. I know that during World War II the Japanese government did tons of terrible things to people outside and inside of Japan. I just want people to know that atomic bombing is a very serious issue, and using the images of the mushroom cloud as a meme/design is like using a symbol of the Nazi/KKK as a fun meme. It's not fun. Atomic bombing should never happen anywhere in the world.

#I'm NOT saying it to make Japanese people 'victims' of the memes #I'm afraid that people get used to making jokes about it #or forget how horrible nuclear weapons are #the atomic bomb in 1945 killed 129000-226000 people in total #at least 88% of those were civilians #the total number is uncertain #because in many cases there were no remains to be found

[leisi-lilacdreams]

posting this while i'm in the mood to share

maybe i'll get it done before the actual new years OTL

i want to a series of 12!boys in more japanese settings and i have some ideas

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #my art #tmnt 2012 #tmnt fanart #2012 mikey #2012 leo #2012 donnie #2012 raph #kotatsu #please don't b ully me about the perspective #i'm already doing it to myself ;v; #i see the 2012 turtles being more japanese than other versions #let them connect with their culture #CSP asset store saving my butt #if no one's got me at least the CSP asset store's got me

[dizzyisdizzy]

Miku's favorite clothes (canon)

#vocaloid #hatsune miku #your rare reminder that I'm a sonic fan too #the japanese boxart is too cool....

[madmarchhare]

The Monk and the Traveller Snippet pt.2

This is what I'm writing at the moment as I have momentum for it. I hope you all enjoy it.

This continued directly from the previous snippet. I apologize that some of the explanatory footnotes are empty as they are long and I haven't finished them yet.

I hope you all thoroughly enjoy it.

He pushed his staff between the two of them to break them up, their surprise distracting them from their argument. “There’s no need to fight, I was simply curious,” he declared kindly, smiling at the children as he leaned against his staff slightly. The pair shot each other side glances, but didn’t restart their argument for the moment. Though clearly both intended to carry it on as soon as there were no adults present. The other kids seemed relived at the silence, one turning up to look at the monk.

“Why are you dressed like that Jii-san?”[1] the youngest boy, about eight inches shorter than everyone else, asked innocently.

Cherry flinched at innocent insult, stopping himself before he repeated the honorific back, having to take a moment to calm down. “I’m a travelling monk. I’m on an asceitic journey at the moment,” he replied warmly, the boy’s face lighting up in curiosity.

“An aseatic journey?!” he yelled back excitedly, badly mispronouncing the word, “that’s so cool! Do you meet any cool people while your traveling?” he begged excitedly, a wide smile on their face, the other children looking at Cherry curiously.

“Well…” Cherry began nervously, his mind flicking between images of people he had met while traveling.

“Ah, Cherry! There you are,” the boisterous voice called out to him, as if on cue. Cherry and the children turned to look up at the titan of a man, dressed in his safari jacket and khaki trousers, a bucket hat still pressed onto his head. The children’s eyes darted between the pair of rifles on his back, next to his rucksack, the pair of revolvers stuffed into their custom holster, or the man’s mahogany brown beard and face. They seemed to look at him like a mystical creature, the youngest boy letting his mouth hang agape in fascination.

Collier noticed their curiosity and smiled kindly at them, kneeling down to get eye level with them. “Good afternoon, young gentlemen and lady,” he greeted grandly, the pair who had been arguing wearing proud expressions, feeling that the titles obviously suited them.

“Afternoon,” they replied respectfully, standing up from their game, one of the boys snatching up his marbles as he did.

“Where are you from sir?” they boy who had grabbed his marbles asked curiously, dressed in a brownish yukata, his nose sporting a thick plaster over its bridge along with some bruises along his knuckles where the skin had split.

“I come from Britain, an island in Europe,” he replied, not wanting to patronise or confuse the boy.

“Why’ve come here then?” the girl asked, squinting her eyes at the foreigner. Collier smiled at her, chuckling lightly at her suspicion.

“I like to travel, hunting, writing about wildlife and people… Things like that. But at the moment, I’m just here to deliver some letters,” he responded happily, Cherry looking at him curiously as he mentioned he wrote, but then dismissed it as unimportant. “In any case,” Coller called grandly, rising back to his full height and grabbing the monk around the shoulders, “I’ve sent all I need to, so, we shall both leave you to your game!” Cherry looked aggravated at him for a moment, about to protest, but stopped realizing he was about to leave regardless.

“Yes…” the monk begrudgingly added, then turning back to the children quickly, “and try not to fight children! Remember, you will not be punished for your anger, but by it,” he called to them attempting to impart some wisdom onto them. The children nodded in that dismissive sort of way a student does when they are being lectured, only the youngest seeming to pay any mind to his message. He sighed lightly under his breath, slightly disappointed but not surprised, “Goodbye!” he bade them as he followed Collier, the latter having released him.

“Goodbye for now!” Collier called back to them in English, getting confused looks in response, to which he only smiled back. They walked forward for a while, strolling through the town, Cherry watching the various people walk about, those who weren’t busy casting glances to the foreigner who accompanied him. It wasn’t the largest village, just a short while from a river and wedged under one of the innumerable mountains of Akita[2]. The buildings were mostly traditional, with a few western styles creeping in, particularly in the style of dress, policemen wandering around in western style uniforms, though not many. It wasn’t exactly to Cherry’s taste, reminding him of soldiers and the stories his father and grandfather told of the twilight years of the Shogunate and how foreigners manipulated the country. But, it was not his place to pry, only to offer guidance to those who suffered of worries.

“Ah, Cherry,” his companion suddenly began, “I think we should attend to lunch. Do you have any place you recommend?” Collier inquired.

The monk’s thoughts quickly sank from the lofty realms of the soul and the state of the nation to the empty linings of his stomach. “Sashimi,”[3] he declared without a second thought, spinning his head to look up at his companion. Collier smiled at him, chucking slightly, Cherry hiding the agitation it caused.

“Sashimi then…” Collier muttered, looking about for a place that served it. They found it after a while, a small place with bunting over its front that called out its main offering in bright colours and white lettering. It denoted the dish they were looking for in smaller script, written on a vertical sign nailed to the building’s frame. The inside smelled warm, the sent of cooked meat and warm spices hugging you like a woollen blanket as lamplight glowed overhead. The owner and chef greeted them with a nod and a transitory smile as the pair came in and sat down. He was a tall man, broad shouldered and boxy faced, hard features broken in by age. His scalp was trimmed short, a twisted cloth tied around his brow, meant to collect sweat as he wore an all white apron. He eyed Collier’s weaponry nervously, Collier seeming to notice his gaze and remove the rifles from his back and place them on the floor, leant against the counter. He moved to put away his pistols, but the chef put up a hand for him to stop, seemingly content with Collier’s gesture. Collier smiled warmly at him, then cleared his throat as he searched over the menu, one hand shifting to his wallet.

“One portion of sashimi for my friend here,” Collier began, speaking in  odd pace as he searched the menu.

“And a bowl of miso soup please,” the monk commented quickly, keeping his face deadpan as the owner glanced at Cherry, looking over his robes.

Collier gave a jerky nod, “right and miso soup… and for myself, a bowl of Udon[4] with egg, kaki-age[5] and nori seaweed,” Collier listed, receiving a bewildered glance from the monk and an approving look from the owner. He turned around, re-tightening his apron as he moved over to the various pans and tools he used for the meals. Cherry looked around the restaurant, seeing a small painting near the corner of the room, almost hidden away, depicting a snowy taiga scene, a troupe of what appeared like kitsune dressed as soldiers its focus. It wasn’t to Cherry’s tastes. Collier was chatting with the owner as he worked, though not much, seemingly not wanting to badly distract the man. General questions such as where he had learned to cook, whether he was local to the area or not etc. Cherry reached into his sleeve and retrieved the letter his sister had sent him, going over it again. Her handwriting was neater than his own, though far more informal, almost flippant in her addresses. Yet she managed, even in her writing, to retain an air of elegance if not grace. Of course that was all irrelevant to Cherry as her younger brother.

He was interrupted from his reading by his meal being presented to him, the sashimi, specifically slices of salmon, carp and beef along with some herbs and cod roe())), in a lacquered wooden bowl that was a stunning black colour, a smaller brown bowl of miso soup placed to its side, a pair of chopsticks on the opposite side. He tucked the letter away, lifting up the chopsticks as he turned to look at Collier, who was being handed his bowl of udon.

The owner placed a pair of chopsticks in front of him, a dubious frown flashing on his face as he looked between the utensils and the foreigner. “Thank you,” Collier thanked the owner sincerely, smiling at him as he picked up the bowl and deeply inhaled the scent of the broth, before picking up the chopsticks and innocuously using them the break the egg and stir it into the noodles then feed them into his mouth. The owner looked at him surprised at his deftness, then smiled warmly at the foreigners face of enjoyment at the meal he had made him. Cherry turned to his own food, going for the salmon first, dipping the pink meat into the miso soup before placing it into his mouth enjoying the sensation of the sparking tastes, allowing himself a narrow smile and he closed his eyes slightly, at ease.

“So,” the owner began in gruff, almost barky and stilted tone, “what brings you here?” he asked, the question, while open in concept, seemed much more directed to Collier. Cherry glanced up from his meal to Collier and the owner, both wearing friendly smiles at the other.

“I had some letters and other accoutrements I wanted to be delivered. I heard this town had a post office,” the man replied simply.

“Yes, but, eh, more generally…?” the owner led on, receiving a look of mock realization from the foreigner, a slight air of enjoyment coming from the man as he stopped his teasing.

“Ah, right, right. My apologies. I like to travel you see, hunting, fishing and exploring etc.” he listed offhandedly, using his chopsticks to life up another mass of noodles along with some seaweed and feeding it into his mouth, somehow not spilling any on his grand beard. “I write some of it down and sell it as books to pay my way, and to let people learn about the places I see and people I meet and their history. This time is my second visit here to Japan however, I simply enjoyed myself so much the first,” taking a bit of kari-age into his mouth and chewing it silently for a moment, “so I had to visit again,” he finished, slightly out of breath as he grinned, licking his lips quickly before continuing to eat.

“Oh, did you learn to use chopsticks on that previous visit?” the owner asked, leaning on the counter slightly, obviously enjoying the conversation during the lull in customers.

“Oh, no,” Collier replied calmly, “it was during a visit to China, I wanted to look at some of the art work and crockery, along with a few other matters. I tried to have some traditional food but I was absolutely abysmal with them!” he declared jovially, chuckling to himself, “I must of spilled about ten bowls worth of food before I finally managed to get it right,” he finished smiling to himself as he continued to eat. The owner seemed bemused by the man, pulling out a bottle from somewhere and pouring himself a small drink, taking a sip of it.

“When did you first visit Japan then?” he asked, the question not interesting Cherry as much, now deeply immersed in enjoying his meal.

“I came around the beginning of 1906. I’d spent a short while in the Raj[6] before I came over,” he replied matter-o-factly, continuing eating. The man stiffened slightly as he mentioned the date.

“So, just after the war?”

“Yes, my congratulations… Or more likely my condolences,” he added heavily, frowning downward as he sat up straight, the owner regarding him oddly, at least to the monk. “But, I mostly spent the visit in Hokkaido and Karafuto hunting with the Ainu, though I did visit Aomori[7]…” he trailed off continuing to talk to the owner, who now poured him a drink, which he gratefully accepted. Cherry ate quietly and sombrely, enjoying the food. As he drank down the last of the miso soup, Collier finished as well, slurping down the last of the broth. “Here you are, for myself and my companion,” placing the coins and notes on the counter for the man, who put up a hand in response.

“No, he doesn’t have to pay,” gesturing to Cherry with a tilt of his head, “a gift, to support his journey,” he finished, the monk noticing a statue of Buddha near the rear of the shop. He bowed to the man in thanks, the owner nodding in return.

Collier smiled in return, seemingly happy for the smaller man, “alright then,” he responded, picking up the now unnecessary coins and stacking them between his fingers. “By the way, how much would you charge for that painting?” Collier asked, jerking back to the painting depicting the soldier foxes with a thumb. The owner looked at him slightly surprised.

“R-really?” he asked chuckling nervously, “that one? It’s-it’s nothing famous. Just something that I-um-there was a spare nail and uh…” the man quibbled nervously, almost embarrassed by the question.

“How much?” he again asked plainly, halting the mad thrashing of a monologue the other man had fallen into.

The man looked at Collier slightly crestfallen, but also tempted, “oh, three yen then, its just something I made when I wanted to paint. Never sold anything. I was better at cooking,” he muttered, seemingly wallowing in melancholy. Cherry noticed the man seemed to want to give the painting away for free more than anything.

“Well, I like it,” Collier replied, pushing the three yen toward the man, accompanied by an extra seven, “and I shall pay you properly for it,” the man began to protest but Collier dismissed him.

“If it helps your conscience, think of it as payment for the drink,” Collier added in a friendly tone, smiling to the man, whose expression eased slightly in response, a note of pensiveness still present on his countenance regardless. Collier stood up from his seat, leaving his backpack and rifles for the moment, and walked over to the painting, removing it from the wall.

He turned it as he did, facing the back towards himself, and noticing a small note on the back, minute kanji printed onto the back. ‘To my O-niisan[8], I know you never liked my paintings, but I wanted to congratulate you on your commission![9] Sincerely, your loving brother, Kurai’

“Ah, I see,” Collier though to himself, staring at the back of the painting.

Then, like someone had just fired a starting pistol, a young boy ran in. He was huffing and puffing like victorious greyhound, wild eyes darting around to the three occupants of the shop until they landed on Cherry with the triumphant glare or a hawk spotting its prey. Cherry looked at the young boy slightly surprised, recognising him as the youngest child of the group of children who had been playing marbles. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” Cherry asked, getting off his chair and kneeling closer to the small boy.

“You’re a monk right?!” the boy hurriedly demanded, his face stern as he spoke.

“Then help my sister!” he snapped, pleadingly. Cherry wore a surprised expression, the other two men looking down at the two with confusion. “My parents say she’s been possessed by a demon, but none of the other priests were able to do anything! Please, help my O-nēsan!” the boy pleaded, tear budding at the corners of his eyes.

“Of course, I’ll go right now, lead the way,” Cherry replied warmly, placing a hand on the boys shoulder to try and calm him before rising back up to his feet. He nodded briefly to the other two men then dashed along with the boy. Collier stared at the door where they had left, bewildered before seeming to come to his senses. He strode forward to the counter, placing the painting on it while he grabbed his rucksack and rifles.

“Wrap that up and take it to the post office,” he instructed rushing, “tell them it’s, oh have you got a bit of paper? I’ll write it down,” he asked, adjusting his belongings. The owner snapped up a bit of paper onto which Collier hurriedly scrawled a note, first in English before he crossed it out and wrote a message in scruffy kanji. “Right, Kurai, you take that and give them this to pay for it. I’m going to see about Cherry and they girl,” he finished worriedly concern creased in his face. He span to face the door and strode forward out of it, moving far quicker than either the monk or the boy. The owner looked out bewildered at the pair of storms that came through his restaurant, then wrapped up the painting and left to go to the post office, doubting anyone would come to his restaurant today.

Collier marched quickly, following the tracks and sounds of the pair running through the town, tracking them like prey, before he reached what must be the house of the boy. It was about average sized, set back away from the village and surrounded by a somewhat maintained garden, the signs of weeds visible under a discerning glance. But, the most distinct feature was the army of monks and priests that surrounded the house. A troupe of older women were huddled nearby gossiping to themselves, viewing the tragedy as an entertaining affair. Collier walked past them, his face plain as he went by them, hearing a small section of their gossip as he did.

“I bet it’s that Okade boy’s fault,” one declared in a sharp tone, a woman in her thirty’s. Getting an inquisitive look from the others.

“The post boy?” they inquired disbelievingly.

“Yes, he always went on about spirits, like how he claimed he had befriended an Ittan-Momen[10]!” the woman added boldly, “I bet he’s sicked one on the poor girl out of some grudge,” she stated, seeming to relish blaming the boy.

“Don’t pin the blame for everything on the poor boy!” one of the other women cried at her, jabbing her hard in the shoulder.

“You’ve always bullied the poor thing, even when he was little! You brought him near to tears everyday, which only got him picked on by the other boys!” a younger woman added, seemingly the youngest in the group. They harangued back and forth, ganging up on the first woman for a moment before they devolved back into their usual conversation.

Collier parted his was through the crowd of holy men to get to the house, the front door swung wide open. Collier crossed the threshold calmly, not removing his boots as he strode onto the tatami lined floor. Alerted by the sound a man popped out from a corner, an expression of exhaustion and stress clear on his lined face. He opened his mouth to say something then froze as his eyes fell on the giant of a man who was now stood in his hall, decorated in weaponry and dressed like a hunter a full two feet greater in height. He squeaked out a noise as his mouth shifted about, trying to find some possible set of words to react and remaining silent in response.

“I apologize for intruding,” Collier started, taking the initiative in the conversation, “I heard that your daughter was possessed, I was with the monk your son brought, and I wanted to offer my assistance,” he finished kindly, looking down at the man with a warm, and rather pitiful expression.

The man, who Collier presumed was the girl’s father, looked up at the random giant that had just offered to help his daughter, and in a sense of exasperation and likely desperation blurted out, “s-sure,” a nagging feeling coming on like he had invited a yokai into his home. Collier smiled appreciatively at the man then gestured for him to lead the way. He turned, debating in his head to look back at Collier as he followed along after him obviously still wracked with panic.

He brought him to a largish room near the rear of the house, a woman lingering by the half-open door, a hand pressed to her lip visibly wracked with worry, pale and shaky of breath. She had her hair down, falling ratty to her chin, unkept for obvious reasons and dressed in a purplish kimono she likely had slept in. She darted a worried glance to her husband, flinching slightly when she saw Collier but not seeming to question it.

“How is she?” the man asked brusquely, not seeming to dare glance into the room and making great effort to avoid looking at it.  His wife began o sob slightly, pulling her husband close, nearing the end of her tether. Collier looked at the pair, a sombre and mournful expression on his face. He turned to look into the room, pressing the door open slightly with his fingers. Cherry was inside, chanting and examine the girl in the dim room, lit by dozens of candles, pooling wax onto the floor. He was stressed, sweat dousing his brow as he looked at the girl with great worry. The poor girl in question lay near limp on the floor, her breathing laboured yet weak, periodically interrupted with a wracking, retching cough, while she lay bathed in darkness, listening to hopeful, desperate prayers for her safety and the expulsion of the spirit that brought her this aliment.

Collier frowned, pressing the door back closed for a moment, deciding to let his acquaintance finish. The other two glanced at him as he moved away from the door, then leant against the wall beside it. He spotted the young boy staring at him from around the corner, and pulled out the tin of barely sweets. “Would you like one?” he asked the boy, kneeling down to his level.

The boy looked at the tin nervously for a moment then nodded and strode forward as collier opened the tin and presented it to him. He looked at the sweets for a moment before picking up one and placing it into his mouth, a wide smile coming on his face as he tasted it. “Thank you,” he thanked happily, Collier smiling back.

“Of course,” Collier replied warmly, the mother looking over at her son, relief clear in her eyes but her face still strained by worry.

“Is,” the boy began pensively, “is my sister going to be alright?” Collier looked down sombrely at the poor boy and put on a smile.

“Cherry, the monk you brought, is with her now. I’m sure he’ll help her, and if he needs some help I’m here when he needs a break,” Collier replied, trying to encourage the boy.

“Oh, that’s good!” the boy yelled happily, a wide smile on his face, masking his half-understood worry.

“Yes, but for the moment, you should go out and play. They’ll both need the quiet for now,” Collier told him, glancing into the room. The boy looked slightly disappointed, but the mother, sniffing hard, walked over to him with a smile.

“Hannako,” she began smiling down at her son, bowing slightly so she was closer to his height, “would you like to come for a walk with me? I could use the air,” she asked, her young son smiling in response.

“Yes!” he shouted excitedly, grabbing her hand eagerly. He pulled her forward, chatting rapidly with her, as she asked him to wait for her to get some sandals on. Both her husband and Collier watched them go. The husband smiled at his wife and child, but that hid is worry over the one who lay bedridden behind the two men. The man looked tired, that unearthly sort of exhaustion that you see in they eyes of veteran’s and doctors. Collier looked at him understandingly and placed a hand on his shoulder, though the other man flinched for a moment before slackening under the foreigners grip.

Collier offered him a sweet, the father taking one after a moment, unsure of what they were. Collier popped it into his own mouth, the father following suit. They both stood, wordlessly, surrounded by the muffled sounds of laboured and sickly breathing accompanied by earnest prayers. After an hour or so, Cherry pushed open the door, his face blank yet stern. He turned to the father, either not noticing or not acknowledging Collier as he did. “I did what I could, she needs to have lots of cool water mixed with salt and bather her in cool water frequently,” he instructed emotionlessly.

The father’s countenance broke into a hopeful expression as he spoke, “you managed to expel the spirit then!” he declared.

Cherry looked at him clear in the eyes, opening his mouth, then turned down, glancing at the floor, “no, I could not,” shame clear in his voice. The father’s shoulder fell in despair, a redness of anger trying to flush in his face to yell at the monk, but he couldn’t manage it, knowing that it was no the other man’s fault. He fell silent, hanging his head and sobbing harshly under his breath before sniffing sharp and flinging his face to the sky. Cherry, his face usual either plain or pressed into a sour expression stared hard at the ground, his face bearing a sense of deep unadulterated shame and failure and more than anything sympathy for the daughter and her father.

“I may be able to help, if I would be permitted,” Collier began, taking a step so he was by the door and between the two men.

“How, you aren’t a monk?” Cherry snapped, agitated as another priestess and a monk walked in from the corridor.

“No, but I trained as a Medicine Man, an ‘Akbaalia[11]’ with some Native American tribes when I visited that area, and I do have some spiritual training,” he explained, the father looking at him for a moment.

“Fine, please try what you can,” he muttered, exhaustion clear in his voice, Cherry looking at him with a surprised then ashamed expression. Collier nodded and pushed the door open, steeping softly into the room. He removed his rifles and his pistols, leaning them against the wall along with his rucksack. The girl lay in the centre of the room in a (bed name), candle light illuminating red rashes that stretched in odd patterns over her chest, neck and arms.

He knelt over the girl, opening his satchel as he muttered in Crow, pulling out a book from his satchel, scouring over his notes which danced between near a dozen languages, from Esperanto to Finnish on various pages whenever he felt what he wanted to say sounded better than the language he was writing in at the time. He placed the boom down, face up as he pulled himself closer to the girl. She looked up at him, he eyes clouded by fever, eased slightly by a wet towel placed on her brow by Cherry. He began to examine her for various signs of possession, pressing an iron button into her palm as he checked her pulse, just in case. Her pulse was slightly rapid, making her hyperventilate every so often.

“Ilíahchisshe,”[12] ahem, “take slow, deep breaths,” he continued, speaking in Crow before correcting and instructing her in Japanese. She looked up at him, bleary eyed, trying to adjust her breath, air catching in her throat. He nodded to her, though whether she could see the gesture was another matter. He continued his prayers, listening to her breath. After a moment, a frown coming on his face as the though crossed his mind, he helped her up to sitting position, offering mono-syllabic encouragements to her as she did. He pressed his ear to her back, level to her lungs.

“Breath deeply in please,” he instructed in a distracted sort of voice, searching for the sound that would give him his answer.

“Y-Yes,” she responded weakly, her soft voice hoarse yet kind, even in sickness. She breathed deeply, the air rattling down her lungs like a coin dropped down a steel gutter, eventually coughing hard, doubling over from the strain. Collier pulled back from her, easier her back down so she lay on the bed. He opened his rucksack pulling out a small tin of poultice and a clean handkerchief, monogrammed on one corner with a semi-circular ‘E’ underneath a stylised ‘C’ in a different colour. He pressed the handkerchief into the poultice, taking some away on the cotton fabric before gently pressing it over the girls’ rashes, apologizing as she winced. He spread it evenly over the red splotches of flesh before standing up and walking over to the door, pressing it open.

The father was stood near the door, a small bag of salt and a pail of water nearby, Cherry sat on the other side of the door, cross-legged with his hands in opposite sleeves, balancing his staff in their crook. A woman, a similar age to the daughter, was with them, a worried expression on her face. Before any of them could speak Collier brusquely called out, “fetch me these herbs and new dressings for the bed,” addressing the girl, who, seemed confused for a moment before rushing off to get the items she was instructed to.

The father’s face, trepid to hope, twisted into a worried smile, “are you able to help her?” not expecting much despite his plea.

“Yes,” Collier replied simply the man’s face freezing in his nervous, crooked smile. “In truth the illness was likely to pass, but your daughter seems to have breathing problems, along with a reaction to something that caused the rash. The herbs, when mixed should help clear up her breathing and make it easier for her,” Collier informed, relaxed, though a note of relief barely perceptible in his tone.

The father began to chuckle, tears budding in his eyes from an uneasy joy, cascades of worry now breaking on the golden fact he had just been given. “Do give me the water and salt as well,” Collier added, taking the man by surprise though he handed both to the foreigner, “my friend was correct in his advise that these would help. Hydration is helpful regardless, but the excess of perspiration takes away salts. It’s a far crueller way to die, you can drink and drink yet not keep any down…” he declared in matter-o-fact tone, looking sombrely at Cherry, the man now asleep, yet still muttering sutras under his tired breath. He turned around and walked back into the room, administering the water, mixing the salt into it until it was completely dissolved, to her.

After a short while later, the other girl, slightly taller than the daughter and with broader shoulders, a medical mask now on her face and gardening gloves on her hands came back with the herbs and berries Collier had asked for. He thanked her, pulling out a mortar and pestle from his pack to crush up the herbs, adding in some of the water as he did. He finished after about fifteen minutes, making a surplus for the girl and her family and pouring it in small vials. He lifted the poor girl up, leaning her back on his thigh as he supported her shoulders wit his arm, holding her head with one hand as he held the vail in his other. “Drink this slowly, it should take a moment for it to work then you should be able to breath better,” Collier instructed, pouring the mixture into the girls mouth, the woman wincing at the bitter taste before drinking it trepidly.  After a moment, her breathing steadied, the rattling tenor of her breath softening, though still noticeable. She calmed down, seeming to relax as she was able to take deep, steady breaths.

Collier set her down for a moment, the other girl having laid out new bed dressings , which he lifted her onto, rolling up the others, drenched in sweat and spotted with blood. The father stepped in, accompanied by his wife, tears pooling at the corners of their eyes. They looked up at Collier with a questioning look, and he flashed them with a smile and nodded as he wiped his hands. Overjoyed smiles split their faces as the mother leapt to her daughters side, pulling her into a deep, but careful hug, as if she was afraid the girl would shatter in her grip. The father stood, staring at the ceiling, smiling as wide as his face would allow as he looked up, lest his tears stream down his face like a flooded waterfall. Cherry hovered at the door frame, a conflicted expression on his face. He was clearly relieved and pleased that the girl was alright, yet he felt… ashamed, I suppose it would be called, that he had failed to help himself. He glanced at Collier, his sour expression ambivalent as he nodded respectfully to the man, though some part of him felt disrespected. Illogically, as he knew most of all.

As the pair let the parents sob over their saved daughter, they suddenly heard the sound of rapid footfalls and flapping cloth, moments before the source of the noise barrelled into Cherry, nocking him over so Collier caught him by the shoulders, as caught off guard as the monk. “Nanoka!” it yelled mournfully, both Collier and Cherry looked bewildered at the wild creature that had dashed in.

“Okade-San?” Cherry asked, bewildered, still slack in Colliers arms, the foreigner looking down at the monk, waiting for him to stand up of his own accord.

The young man turned his head from Nanoka, the daughter’s name it seemed, to look at the pair. “Oh, it’s the tanuki.”

                “I am not a tanuki! I am a monk!” he snarled back irately, Collier putting a hand to his mouth to hide his chuckle as the monk snapped up to his feet. “Don’t you laugh you wild kitsune!” Cherry yelled at Collier madly, only prompting the hunter to guffaw laughing to the monk’s further chagrin.

“Ah, uh, sorry,” Okade muttered, apologetically seeing the monk’s agitation. Cherry’s visible agitation was vapid however, falling from his face into a more pious expression as he looked back to him. “She’s… Nanoka’s going to be alright?” he asked, nervously, as if asking would somehow press the answer to be worse.

Cherry scowled at him for a second, before heaving a sigh, “yes, she should be fine, thanks to this gentleman here,” Cherry added, somewhat bitterly, gesturing to Collier with his staff and taking the opportunity to whack the man with it. Okade’s face lit up with joy at that, looking at the pair, Cherry included, with pure gratitude.

Before he could voice his thanks, however, Nanoka placed a hand onto his shoulder. “Gida? Is that you?” she enquired weakly, tilting up her flushed face to look at him with bleary eyes.

“Yes! It’s me! I heard that your illness was curable so I rushed over to…” He didn’t get to finish his tearful sentence before Nanoka leapt onto him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. The young man was quite confused at this, flushing red.

“I’ve missed you, Mon Amour[13]” she declared, her voice muffled by his shoulder. Okade himself flushed bright red, while the others, while surprised were also confused by what she had said, not speaking French themselves. Bar of course Collier, who watched the pair with a greatly amused expression, grinning slyly at the pair.

“Mon amour? What’s that mean…? Oh! Okade-kun, you taught her and Hanako French yes, do you know what it means?” Nanoka’s mother asked in a perplexed voice, her tone still shaky as she watched her daughter manhandle the young man in question, her husband wearing a similar expression. Okade could only babble in response, Collier still watching the exchange with a bemused expression, leaving the pair to deal with the affair themselves.

“Gida... Tu m’as terriblement manqué... J’ai réalisé – j’ai réalisé à quel point j’ai besoin de toi avec moi. Combien vous comptez pour moi. Combien je te chéris,”[14] Nanoka continued, declaring her affections while nuzzling her adressee’s neck, Collier again hiding his amusement, turning to the side to conceal a half-suppressed smile while Okade himself continued to go redder and redder.

“Ah, um, Nanoka,” her mother began in a deadpan tone, both her and her husband wearing blank expressions at the display, “you do know we’re here as well?”

“And? You can see me any time you want. I haven’t seen Gida in a while, so you can wait outside,” Nanoka replied, bluntly, stunning her mother and father into silence.

“I think she’s just delirious from the fever!” Okade declared, gently but firmly pushing the girl off him, his face ruby red. “We should let her rest!” he babbled out earnestly, Nanoka glaring up at him from her bed, but staying quiet while she pouted. The other two regarded him flatly before both sighing, still in high spirits over their daughters resurgent health. Even with her rather… precocious behaviour… right out of the gate.

“Very well, we’ll leave her be for the time being,” the father replied, standing up and helping his wife do the same. They all moved to leave the room, the three of them casting affectionate looks back to Nanoka, Cherry and Collier following them out.

As they moved through the door, Collier placed his hand on Okade’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Tu es un homme chanceux mon cher ami,”[15] he sang mockingly in Frech, a wide grin on his face. In response the postman’s face lit up red once again, now in the knowledge that someone had understood what his beloved had said to him. Collier continued walking, grabbing his belongings as he went a mischievous yet also welcoming grin on his face, happy for the young man and even more so for the daughter.

They moved from the room to what could be described as a living room, though somewhat smaller than where Nanoka was resting. The husband and wife invited the other three to sit down, though treating Okade with much greater familiarity. The wife bowed deeply to the pair, announcing that she would make tea for them all, her husband thanking her earnestly, along with the other three. As she left, the man’s face relaxed. He turned to Collier and Cherry a solemn look on his face, then bowed as low as he could, his forehead pressed to the tatami matted floor. They all wore stunned looks in response, though Collier much less visibly so than the other two. “Thank you… From the bottom of my very soul… Thank you for saving my daughter!” he shouted, his voice quavering as he tried to remain stern, beads of tears escaping from his clenched eyes and falling to the floor.

The monk stared stunned as the man continued to prostrate himself, failing to find anything to say, even to refute the claim that he helped. “Raise your head man,” Collier instructed firmly, a strict look on his face, “It was of no detriment to us to help, you need not debase yourself so greatly to thank us,” he continued in a softer tone, lowering his head to get closer to eye-level with the man, who had now raised his face.

“Thank you, Collier-Hakase[16], Cherry-San,” the father replied, bowing his head again, but less deeply than before. He then turned to Okade, a smile on his face, “and thank you for coming to see Nanoka, Okade-Kun. She seemed… pleased to see you,” he thanked, smiling at first though his eyed falling into a thousand yard stare at his recollection.

“T-thank you, Aoi-San,” trying to hid his face by staring down into his lap. Aoi’s wife came in carrying a tray of tea, placing them on front of each of the guests before sitting down by her husband, her face having relaxed from earlier.

“Oh, Ueda,” Aoi asked, turning to his wife, “where’s Hanako? Is he with his friends?”

“I asked Yashime-Chan to play with him  for a while. He seems to get on quite well with her,” Ueda responded, referring to the taller girl who had fetched what Collier had requested.

“Ah, that’s good,” he replied, relaxing his shoulders as he then turned back to his guests. “One again, I cannot thank you enough for helping, even if you think it was no trouble… it means a lot to us,” he delivered sombrely bowing along with his wife.

“Thank you, we didn’t know what we were going to do…” Ueda added, sniffling as she put a hand to her mouth holding back superfluous tears of joy. Aoi embraced his wife, letting her breathe a shaky sigh of relief before gently disentangled herself from the comforting embrace.

“So, we must repay you,” he began again, turning to the other pair as his wife nodded.

“That’s not necessary,” Cherry replied simply, not even having to think it over.

“I concur, it was more than enough to simply help,” Collier agreed, placing his hands on his knees as he smiled warmly at the pair, Okade sitting silently off to the side of the quartet, quite overwhelmed.

“No, we simply must repay you in some way,” Aoi asserted, glaring determinedly at the pair. The pair were silent at that, Collier grimacing slightly as Cherry’s pious expression soured slightly, like a displeased cat. They were silent for a while, at an impasse, the two guests tossing the problem over in their mind.

After a moment, Collier spoke. “If you have to give us something,” Collier his voice rolling in his mouth as he seemed to further explore the solution in his thoughts, “what about a trinket or something?” He posed the question, almost haphazardly, looking at his hosts. “I like to collect art and beautiful things from places I travel to you see,” Collier explained flippantly, smiling at the two.

“Oh, like the painting you bought from Zashinki-San?” Okade blurted out, turning to Collier with an interested expression. The couple looked slightly surprised at that.

“Oh, you bought Kurai-Kun’s painting?” Ueda asked, intrigued, her husband wearing a similar expression.

“Yes, we were both eating at his establishment and I quite liked it. I was actually just buying it when your boy came to fetch Cherry here,” he explained lightly. The husband wore a considering expression, seeming to search his thoughts.

“I’m not sure if we have anything that would quali-oh! Would that…? Hold on a moment!” he petitioned, rising to his feet something seeming to have dawned on him.

“Hahkasa dear, where are you going,” Ueda asked, using her husbands given name, a perplexed look on her face.

“I thought of something, please give me a moment!” he called back, striding off further into his home. The four people he left in the room stared after him for a moment, before turning back to each other.

“Soo… You travel, Collier-Hakase?” Ueda broke in, striking against the silence.

“Please, Aoi-San, Collier is enough. I don’t deserve the title,” Collier responded smiling, “but yes. I enjoy it, the beautiful places, their history their wildlife and the sport they can bring!” he declared boisterously, her eyes glancing again at the set of weapons on his person.

“I see, is your first visit here then?” she asked interested.

“No, he came here a couple of years ago,” Cherry broke in rudely, already having heard the conversation when he was eating.

“Oh, I see,” Ueda responded, shooting Cherry a look of light irritation but quickly seeming to get over it. “Do you travel for work then?” she asked, the question seeming to attract Okade’s interest as well.

“You could say, that I suppose,” he began, not entirely certain how to classify it himself, “I write you see, among other things… I’m a naturalist by trade you see, so I write about people, plants, animals and the like… What about you Aoi-San, do you work?” Collier entreated, a curious tone in his voice.

“Oh, not really. I sometimes make yukatas’ and the like to sell but Hahkasa makes enough money himself,” she replied humbly, a smile on her face, Collier taking an even more intrigued expression as she mentioned she made yukatas.

“I found it!” Hahkasa suddenly erupted joyously, Collier and the others turning to the direction of his voice. He strode in wearing a bold, yet also trepidatious expression, carrying a long object wrapped in white cloth, Ueda suddenly looking surprised as she saw what he was carrying. She looked up at him, seeming to check if he was sure, and he nodded back warmly in response, and her expression relaxed. Hahkasa placed the bundle onto the small table in front of them, Ueda and Collier picking up their tea as he did. He carefully untied the bow of a length of white cloth that had bound it together and then unfurled it. Laid out now upon the cloth was a set of three swords. They were beautiful pieces, their sheathes being reddish-black, turning a deeper colour as it approached the mouth of each of them. The largest of the swords, a Katana[17] had an intricately made tsuba[18], made from shibuichi[19], the alloy having turned a warm russet red. The patters was one depicting oak and holy leaves, their tips patterned with woven silver surrounding the seppa-dia[20], iron rods extending from them to the mimi[21], outer ring of the tsuba. The grip was made of woven red and white leather, pattered with whitish pins with a bone pommel. The wakizashi[22] was much the same, though with some embezzlements on the sheath itself. And finally, the smallest sword, though some might call it a dagger was a tanto.[23] It was more heavily decorated, a round netsuke[24] carving done in ivory and wood hung from the ribbon around its centre, featuring a cat on a bed of oak and holly leaves. It had no tsuba, the handle sitting flush with the sheath and made of the same material, bar three thin strips of white twine around its centre to improve grip.

“Were did you find these…?” Cherry asked, stunned, Collier leaning close to examine them, fascinated.

“Oh, my grandfather liked to collect swords… He found these shortly after the Satsuma rebellion.[25] He passed them to me when he died,” he described, smiling at the swords as he picked up the katana and unsheathed it slightly, gazing at the sharpened blade.

“I, we can’t accept this. They were a gift from your grandfather, it’s far too much,” Collier replied sternly, looking up at the man.

“You saved my daughter,” the man replied, not allowing the pair a moment to downplay his idea of what they did, “I believe it is more than fair, and so would he. Besides, what do need them for. I’m a headmaster not a swordsman,” he finished humorously, chuckling at his own joke. The pair regarded him for a moment before he continued, “please take them. I want you to have them,” he finished earnestly. Cherry heaved a world weary sigh, Collier nodding in response.

“Then thank you, I appreciate it,” bowing to them before beginning to reach for the swords then stopping. “Wait, how should we divide them up amongst ourselves?” Collier asked, turning to the Monk.

The latter looked up at him with a disgruntled and almost [] expression. “I’m a monk. I don’t need swords, besides you did most of the work, you take them,” Cherry responded. Collier looked at him for a moment, considering something then grabbed the shortest one.

“Then, you take this one,” handing Cherry the tanto, “and I’ll take these two,” picking up the katana and the wakizashi and pulling them closer to himself. Cherry seemed as if he wanted to protest, a disagreeable expression on his face.

“A monk shouldn’t carry weapons,” he muttered, glaring up at Collier.

“Self-defence is of great importance, even as a deterrent… Besides, it would be wrong to turn it down…” Collier finished, glancing up at the couple. Cherry followed his gaze to look at the relived, kind faces of his hosts.

He grumbled slightly to himself, “fine,” then tucked the tanto into his sleeve and reconstructed his pious air and bowed deeply to both of the Aoi’s. “Thank you very much for your kindness, may the buddha light your path,” Cherry blessed them, bowing deeply as he prayed for them. They both bowed back to them, smiling warmly. Collier did the same, bar the prayer then rose back up. He discussed with Hahkasa for a moment about the types of his swords and the various terms for the components while Cherry calmly sipped his tea, Okade and Ueda chatting. After that, they thanked the Aoi’s and left, Okade coming with them.

As they left, Collier gave Okade the wrapped up katana, “please may you send this to the same address as the painting form Zashinki-san. I don’t have enough space to carry it with me on my travels lest it get badly damaged stuffed into my rucksack,” Collier explained at Cherry looked at him impatiently.

The younger man instantly began to fluster, babbling, “I-I-I don’t t-think we can mail swords!”

“Nonsense,” Collier replied dismissively, smiling widely at him, “I’m sure it will be fine. And, if you find any trouble, simply give them this,” handing the postman a small sealed letter, which he looked at with a mix of nervousness and confusion. “I’m sure that will resolve things,” he added, confidently, contaminating the younger man with his own.

“A-allright, I’ll see what I can do. Have a god day, Collier-San, Nekomata-San,” turning on his heel and walking away, Collier noticing his scarf twitch from an absent wind, flipping up the patter of a cruse face on the underside. He thought it was odd but didn’t put much more thought into it. He turned back the way his walking and continued, accompanied by Cherry. The latter occasionally glowered up at him for a while until they were near the edge of the town.

“What seems to be the problem?” Collier asked as they walked. Cherry was silent for a moment, trying to ignore what Collier had said. “You seem agitated. Well, more so than usual,” he added chuckling slightly. Cherry was silent in response, grimacing harder in agitation. Collier frowned, slightly put out at the lack of a reaction but continued to stride forward. He was bout to prompt the monk to speak again but the man in question beat him to it.

“I am simply upset that I was unable to help Nanoka-San, yet you were,” he declared brusquely, a note of shame clear in his voice both from the fact that he failed, but that he was upset that he failed to help her.

“You were right to recommend water and salt however. If she didn’t have breathing problems, that would have been enough. Where did you learn that by the way?”

“… I read it in a journal. Salt is already used to exorcize evil spirits anyway, so I though I might as well do this in addition to that,” Cherry begrudgingly replied after a moment. Collier wore an interested expression at that. “Still, I cannot help but feel insulted. I gave my best to exorcize whatever malevolence caused her illness… And you cure it with garden spices,” he grumbled, well aware of his hyperbolic moping. Collier stopped for a moment, looking up to the sky as he consider something, stroking his beard. Cherry stopped and looked at him, perplexed as to what he could be doing.

“Did you know that Crow Indians, along with a few other faiths believe that everything, even plants and objects have a soul?” Collier began, marching forward again, his hands behind his back as Cherry looked at him with a befuddled expression. “I think your faith believes something similar… Could you not say then that the spirits of those herbs, and of the blessed salt fought against whatever spirit it was that caused Aoi-san’s ailment?” he continued, almost speaking to himself. “It’s a fascinating thought really… what did the cross think when it bore our Lord upon it, did the nails weep for him as they pinned his hands and feet…” he continued on mystically, gazing up into the sky, watching the drifting clouds.

Cherry looked at him with an ambivallous expression for a moment, before muttering, “I cannot help feeling like you are insulting me and my faith however,” Collier guffawed in response, smiling widely at the man, continuing forward while Cherry slowed for a moment, perturbed.

“You have the right to that after all if that’s how you see it. After all, directly or indirectly, all thinking must refer to perceptions,” he quoted, not that the addressee knew who from.

[1] An informal version of O-Jiisan, used when referring to ones own grandfather or a man of middle age. Can be used as an insult if the subject in question is sensitive about their age. I.e calling them older than they actually are or pointing it out. 

[2] A northern prefecture in Japan, specifically in the Tōhoku region, aka the North-East region of Japan, just south of the island of Hokkaido.

[3] A traditional Japanese dish, predating Sushi.

[4] A traditional Japanese dish. Specifically a dense and chewy noodle made from wheat flour. Can be eaten hot or cold with any number of toppings, with many regional variants.

[5] Small piece of tempura, a Japanese dish consisting of fired and battered fish, meat and vegetables. Think battered cod, hake, scampi etc.

[6] The British Raj was the formal colonial name for British Colonial territories on the Indian Subcontinent. The area included modern day Pakistan, India, Bengal, Sri Lanka, Burma(Now Myanmar) Sikkim and other smaller states and princely dominions.

[7] The Capital city of Aomori Prefecture, the northernmost prefecture of the Tōhoku region, and the closest to Hokkaido.

[8] Japanese honorific for one’s older brother, or a title used to refer to a young man.

[9] A commission refers to when an officer in the army is granted an official military position. I.e. a Non-Commissioned Officer[NCO] or Commissioned Officer. Essentially meaning that Kurai’s brother was given a role in the army.

[10] Ittan-Momen: Literally meaning ‘bolt of cloth’, a yokai that resembles a flying bolt of cloth. It attacks by wrapping around necks and faces of its victims and strangling them.

[11] ‘Healer’ in Crow language, a Native American tribe from the Montanna region of North America.

[12] Crow for ‘to breath deeply’, used here as him trying to instruct her to breath deeply.

[13] French for ‘my love’.

[14] Translation: ‘Gida… I’ve missed you terribly… I realised-I realised how much I need you with me. How much you mean to me. How much I cherish you,’ 

[15] Translation: ‘You are a lucky man my dear fellow,’

[16] Japanese Honorific meaning Doctor or those with a PHD: Generally used when referring to someone of a high academic expertise. 

[17] The name for a Japanese curved short around three shaku[Japanese measurement for sword length approx. 30.3cm] in length.

[18] The name for the handguard for Japanese swords. Many are stylised with various patters that represents their families, wishes or blessings of good luck in battle or ceremonial styles.

[19] An alloy harder than shakudō. A quarter of its weight is silver, the rest typically being copper the ratio various depending on desired colours and hardness and can include lead, zinc or tin.

[20] The name for the washer seat at the centre of the tsuba.

[21] The external rim of the Tsubasa, which can be in many styles in chapes, typically being either round, elliptical, rectangular with rounded corners or even a four lobed design.

[22]

[23]

[24] An ornate miniature sculpture originally used as belt fasteners but evolved into decorative artistic pieces as well. Made in various material from Ivory, hard woods, amber and other materials.  

[25]

@thewormsheep @ninety-s-kid @mimigoey @https-true-egoist @httpghostface @psycho-zom-atic @jemimacatclover @sleepy-gry

@yami-shakai @shandzii @shark-smuggler @youkaigakkou-tl

#writblr #writers and poets #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #fiction #japan #i'm not japanese #The Monk and the Traveller #katana #monk #yokai #HMAD

[abbeyofcyn]

*phaneang curry contains peanuts

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #my art #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt splinter #silly comic #drew this on the shinkansen #don't mess with mikey #our onsen didn’t get a refill until a day later #not that we lost a lot of water but it was on a warning sign #to not waste too much water #I love japanese baths #they are deep #my whole body finally fits #low key want one at home although I'm not a bath person #I'm too impatient

[raapija]

"I mean, we were okay for a lap. But in the race we're gonna die..."

"We saw your straight speed and were like 'holy fuck'"

"Sub 20."

#I'm spamming this parade but the MOMENTS ARE CRAZY 😭 #loscar #oscar piastri #logan sargeant #they're boyfriend and boyfriend?? okay #japanese gp

[pianokantzart]

One little change in the Japanese dub compared to the English version is right after Kamek tells the prisoners that they're going to be sacrificed...

Luigi doesn't say "Mario." He says "Kowai yo, Niisan" which I believe translates to "I'm scared, Big Brother."

Which means he speaks out loud as if he's talking to his brother as a method of calming himself down.

I am very normal about this.

#I barely comprehend even tiny bits of basic Japanese so if I'm wrong please correct me #But otherwise HELLO SAPPY HEADCANON OF MINE COOL TO SEE YOU BECOME A CANON TRAIT #HAHAHAAA #Mario #Super Mario Bros #Super Mario Brothers #Mario Movie #Luigi

[royalarchivist]

This video is only available to people who are members of Acau's ( 악어 ) Youtube, but one of his fans posted a short clip Acau shared of his and Quackity's conversation testing out the QSMP translator!

[ Original Tweet ]

#Acau #악어 #QSMP #Quackity #That's so cool! #I cannot speak any Korean whatsoever but I'm very curious and excited to watch him and learn #My language knowledge is English > Japanese > Spanish #which. is ironic since I'm Mexican #but some Korean words sound very similar to a few Japanese words and it always trips me up hearing them #I'm so excited to meet 악어 and his community!!! aaaaa!!! #everyone is so excited I love seeing everyone getting so excited to share information about the streamers they love #Anyways shoutout to Gaby for the heads up about this. They don't even use Tumblr but they're wonderful