Fantasy Mononoke&Makina「 Not Accepting 」

Blu · Feb 22, 2022

OP: GHOST ~ Hoshimachi Suisei

ED: Haru no Rashin ~ adieu

DESCRIPTOR

NAME × NAME
▎DATE
▎TIME OF DAY / WEATHER
▎LOCATION
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

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Hyōga wa Wakimizu ni Katsujō Shimasu — CHAPTER LINK

A fated meeting. Those who seek a Makina. A Spring tale begins.

Blu · Feb 22, 2022

「 Synopsis 」
A fated meeting.
Those who seek a Makina.
A Spring tale begins.

THE GHOST AND THE HEART

Hakurei × Shirayuki

▎February 16^th, 1620
▎Late Morning —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGGING:

Saurosian

Glassred

Pepsionne

The last of January snow has melted, exalting the arrival of Spring and, with it, cherry blossom petals dancing across the sky. In the town of Nagashima, a young man stands behind a makeshift vendor stand—its construction is very poor and lacking of proper materials. He is pedaling his wares: a pile of turnips. Not just any kind mind you. Hakurei turnips: their plump, white visage is unmistakable. But, at the moment, it seems he is preoccupied with matters other than business.

"This story sounds entirely suspect. Are you trying to take advantage of my ignorance?" Hakurei—the man, not the vegetable—asks with folded arms and squinted eyes.

"I'm telling ya the truth, kid! The ghostly snow-haired Makina will abscond with your soul to Yomi if you ever dare to pick up its ever-dripping sword." The middle-aged man makes a creepy gesture with his hands. "So, how's about it? A tale for a turnip?"

"You must think I'm some sort of fool. If you don't have any money, beat it. I've barely enough to feed myself so I'm not in the business of giving away my livelihood."

"Fine, have it your way. But I'm warning you to watch your back around rivers and streams. The phantom Makina is always poised to strike!" With that, the man scampers off to the local teahouse; most likely to harass its patrons with his bizarre story in exchange for food and drinks.

Hakurei wipes the sweat from his brow and looks down at his remaining inventory. "I think I'll go fishing. Haven't had meat in a while." He quickly packs up the rest of his unsold turnips into a straw basket and makes his way out of town.

At a shallow stream near the hut he calls home, Hakurei uses a tattered net in an attempt to catch fish but, so far, his efforts bear no fruit. Then, out of the corner of his eyes, he sees a glint near some boulders. "Hmm?" Tossing his net aside, he walks over to investigate and sees a katana just floating in the water. "What's this doing here? Wait-" He wastes no time in picking it up; his expression whet with desire. "I can sell this for a lot of money! Oh, I'll eat well tonight! Sashimi, udon, gyudon, kushiyaki, ochazuke, dango-" As his inner monologue continues to ramble on, a sudden coldness nips the air; bringing Hakurei out of his fantasy.

He begins to shake the sword and that gradually transitions into full-on swings. But, no matter his perseverance, the sword never ceases its incessant dripping. He soon feels a chilling presence standing behind him, making his hairs stand on end. "Why does this situation seem so familiar...? It isn't... That geezer's tale!" Upon this realization, Hakurei's shivering body refuses to turn around.

Pepsionne · Feb 22, 2022

Light and Shadow

Haru × Inei

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Late Morning —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Blu

Haru rested his back against Inei’s, using the darker haired male’s rigid posture to support his own lax one. He rested his head on Inei’s shoulder, gaze tilted up at the sky far above them. Haru’s light hair mingled with the dark fabric of Inei’s clothing as the Makina shifted slightly.

“I still don’t understand why we have to go to this town in the middle of nowhere,” Haru said, the tone of his voice whiny in his complaint. Inei remained silent. “There’s never anything to do in these places. The people are boring, everything closes at sunset, no one respects our reputation,” He let out an exasperated sigh. Haru turned his head to catch a glimpse of Inei’s expression, but the Makina offered nothing. The rigid planes of Inei’s back shifted against Haru’s as he inspected the Swiftblade with intensity.

After a moment of silence between them, Inei finally spoke. “Haru, you told me you had fractured this,” he said, setting the weapon down in his lap. “I don’t see anything wrong with it.”

“No,” Haru corrected, “I said I felt like I had fractured it. That rogue samurai parried my attacks so hard yesterday I thought he fractured my bones, too,” Haru huffed, his body sinking further into a lounging position. The action ruffled his hair into the folds of Inei’s clothes.

“No, you didn’t. You told me explicitly that you fractured the blade,” Inei’s reply was short and cold.

“Oh come on, Ei,” Haru sighed, throwing one of his hands up to display his exasperation.

Inei offered no response. He moved forward to stand, shrugging Haru’s body from his back as he did so. Haru hit the grass with a dull thump.

“Gods above you’re so mean to me,” Haru whined. He let out a sigh before folding his arms behind his head, using his forearms as a makeshift pillow to gaze at the lazy clouds that floated above.

“I do not have the capacity within me to be mean,” Inei stated, his attention focused on resheathing the Swiftblade and restoring it within their supplies.

“Yeah, yeah, heard it once heard it a thousand times. But anyways—I’m serious, towns like these are so boring. No one seems to want to have fun around here. They don’t even know who we are! At least in big cities we get special treatment. I mean, the women practically line up to talk to the famous bounty hunter duo,” Haru gestured dramatically, getting carried away with his line of thought.

Inei stopped in his current task to turn his attention over to Haru. The samurai laid in the grass a small distance away, one knee crossed over the other and the foot that dangled in the air bouncing contently. The Makina’s features were blank as he processed what Haru had just claimed. “That has never happened before,” he stated flatly.

Haru groaned. “It hasn’t happened yet,” he said. The topic of their conversation brought a jolt of energy to him and he pulled himself into an upright sitting position. “It’s only a matter of time before we gain enough favor from the shogun to draw the eyes of some of the beauties from those Noble families,” he maneuvered his limbs to sit cross legged, resting his hands on his knees. “I mean—can you imagine that! A true beauty with looks and status? Like that Makoto girl from the Murasakishima family,” Haru let out a wistful sigh.

“I do not understand,” Inei said. His hands were folded neatly in his lap.

“You don’t understand yet,” Haru corrected. “Don’t worry, we’re well on our way to being the most eligible bachelors in Japan. You might not have the hardware to enjoy it just yet but you’ll find ways, I’m sure.”

Inei was silent. The nature of their conversation had gone past his comprehension, as conversations with Haru usually went. Even though the two had grown to a deeper level of understanding and companionship than most, having traveled together for a decade, it felt as though there was something dampening Inei’s ability to fully connect with Haru. His true self felt trapped on the other side of something, gazing at the experiences his body went through but not actually feeling them himself. He had always felt this strain within himself, but ever since they made the snow haired Makina a priority, the odd feeling had become more frequent than ever.

“We should make our way to the town now,” Inei said, pushing the strange feeling from his mind. “I feel we are close to what we’ve been seeking.”

Haru grew quiet as he observed Inei begin to pack their things. A serious look replaced the energetic frenzy in his eyes from before. Haru had been traveling with Inei for quite some time now. He had found and awakened the Makina during his adolescence. They had both grown and trained hard together to reach the point they were at now. Although Inei’s replies were limited in emotional range, he considered the Makina one of the closest relationships in his life. People viewed their bond as rather odd in comparison to other Samurai and Makina. The samurai were meant to be the masters, using their Makina as a tool to order around in battle. From the start it had always felt like Haru was following along behind Inei, letting him strategize and call the shots instead. If anything, Inei was the master in their relationship, but that thought didn’t bother Haru. He trusted the man’s decision making, his processing capabilities much more advanced than other Makina like him. Although Haru was used to taking orders from Inei, it was rare that he ever prioritized a task that didn’t have to do with their profession. Haru couldn’t shake the fact that Inei’s request to find this snow haired Makina had been—personal.

Haru slapped his hands on his legs before jumping to his feet. “Alright then, let’s go liven this town up, huh?” He smiled brightly to Inei who nodded to him silently. Haru accepted the bags that the Makina held out towards him. The Swiftblade now settled once more at his hip. “Let’s see, why don’t we scope out if they have a bar?” Haru asked in feigned innocence. “People talk more when they’re drinking, we can pull some info out of ’em easier that way no?“

To Haru’s surprise, Inei didn’t reject the idea. “Okay,” he said slowly, no doubt turning the prospect over in his mind. “But the second you misbehave I will drag you out without mercy.”

Haru grimaced, his typically soft features turning sour. “Jeez, okay, point taken. I will be on my best behavior I pinky swear,” He held out his pinky to Inei, who stared at him dumbly. “C’mon, Ei, we always do this,” Haru said, shaking his pinky in the air to hurry Inei along.

“Yes, but I do not understand why. You always break the promise in the end.” The Makina stated.

Haru rolled his eyes. “Alright alright fine. I double pinky swear this time.”

Inei stared at Haru’s eager expression and cocky smile, his dark eyes analytical as he processed the situation. He then reached out his own pinky finger and hooked it with Haru’s, earning a contented laugh and a slap on his back as Haru began making his way back to the dirt path that led to the village. Inei stared down at his pinky, the oddest temptation to smile overwhelming him before he brushed the thought from his mind and hurried to catch up with Haru’s carefree stride.

The bounty hunter pair made their way into town gradually, their trip accompanied by light bouts of small talk participated in by mostly Haru alone. The Samurai walked with his hands behind his head, a cocky swagger lining every step. He stifled a yawn once their path led to the cluster of buildings that made up the majority of the town.

Haru whistled brightly while his eyes scanned over the signs of buildings that advertised different businesses and shops in the hopes that something would catch his interest. He mostly wanted to get drunk and fraternize with any locals who showed some type of interesting flair, but he wouldn’t admit that to Inei. The black haired Makina walked silently beside him. Haru couldn’t read his body language well—not that he ever really could anyways, but an eerie calm had washed over his companion since they had set foot in the town. His attention was laser focused on their surroundings while Haru’s ping ponged around like a child’s on a sugar rush.

Haru’s stride was broken at the feeling of Inei’s cold grip on his wrist. Haru’s leg swung forward, it’s movement interrupted before he nearly stumbled backwards into the Makina behind him. Haru shot him a dirty look punctuated by a whiny “hey” but Inei didn’t hear it. His dark gaze was set on a farmer’s stand in the distance, where a young man and a more aggravated individual were conversing. Haru’s attention only caught up to speed with Inei’s when the older man engrossed in the conversation began yelling.

The jovial expression on Haru’s face dropped as he listened to the words that the man shouted dismissively at the farmer before him. The samurai and Makina stood silently in the distance, their figures obscured only slightly by a large display of ornate hand fans and parasols. At the mention of the ghostly Makina, both men visibly stiffened.

“We follow him,” Inei stated softly to Haru, his face half obscured behind a fan he pretended to be pondering over. The Makina’s eyes were hungry as the man walked past them, that same deadly look mirrored in Haru’s eyes as his curiosity began to snowball.

The brief game of cat and mouse ended with the man leading the duo to a large tea house. The building looked slightly weathered, like it had braced many years of harsh seasons sheltering its patrons. The tea house was decently busy, but Haru knew he and Inei would stand out quite considerably from the locals. Normally something he welcomed with open arms, he doubted the man’s willingness to speak to travelers openly. A dark smile twisted his delicate features. Men like him almost always carried a bounty over their heads, their pride and egotistical youth leading them towards some type of trouble with the Shogunate. This snow haired Makina was important to Inei, Haru could tell. He would stop at nothing to get the information they needed. His hand fell absently to the handle of the Swiftblade at his hip. For now, a table close enough to the man’s bold claims to his fellow teahouse patrons would suffice.

Haru settled into his seat, eyes glued to Inei’s face as the Makina looked downward at the menu. He could tell Inei was not reading it, but eavesdropping and processing the numerous conversations drifting around them. Haru’s own eyes drifted down to the menu before him. He read over the tea list slowly. Now, it was only a matter of waiting for the right information to roll off someone's tongue.

Saurosian · Feb 23, 2022

ALONE

NOZOMI

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Late Morning —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Nozomi had slept in worse places than 'curled up at the side of a tea house in a dusty alley', but not many. At least in the forest, getting dive-bombed by black flies, there were the stars to count and the breeze rustling through empty trees. Here, there were still flies - breeding in the dumpster, evidently - and the hacking wheeze of the old man on the second floor. She had almost wished, in the middle of her fifth hour of half-sleep, that he could just drop dead. But he was not at fault. His body had failed him. Was failing him. And before that there had surely been a long line of failures leading to this point. Pitiful, pitiful old man.

Pitiful, pitiful old man who wouldn't let her sleep. Until eventually, she had. And then promptly been awoken by the late morning hubbub about town. The sun beat down on her with a vengeance that wreaked of overwrought sympathy. Her throat was parched.

The humid aromas drifted into her nose at the slightest invitation and she felt her whole body soften.

Tea.

She could spare a minute for her thirst.

The tea room was spacious, but not spacious enough for her to avoid the rude looks of a few locals. She could never be sure if it was being a stranger or looking like a stray dog's favourite victim that made them suspicious, but she knew that neither helped.

It also didn't help when she scowled, but she did that anyway, and had long ago ceased to beat herself up over it. They could deal with a scowl, for all the fuss they gave her.

All the fight and tension collapsed in an instant when she sat down and the seat embraced her for everything that she was. Exhausted. Tired. Worn out. Lots of other synonyms she'd never had the chance to learn.

She sighed, and allowed her eyes to close. Just for a second...

Glassred · Feb 24, 2022

DANGER! And The Proud Smith Makes Her Entrance

KŌSOCHI × JII-SAN

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Late Morning —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Beneath a tranquil sky as azure as the great waves of Kanagawa, the spring blossoms had given into dance with the playful breeze—dotting the countryside in a rainbow of colours so dazzling that no painting could hope rival its vibrancy. Mixing together shades of green, pink, violet and orange, the landscape was transformed from its wintry slumber to a life teeming with activity. Lazy bumblebees were buzzing between pleasantly-odoured wisteria blossoms; hares emerged from their burrows; and the birds of prey circled above them. All had woken from their cold-induced haze, heralding the beauty of spring. Of course, a beauty so transient spoke to the sentimental, the poets and the playwrights, the warrior-philosophers—and especially the allergic.

"ACHOO!"

An ornately dressed girl erupted into a sneeze, frowning as she rubbed the bottom of her nose furiously. Wiping the spit from the bottom of her hand, she grumbled like a bear under her breath, her cheeks flushed an irritated red. She was towered over by a beast of a man—or rather Makina—hidden behind an impenetrable set of samurai armour and well over two meters in height, standing next to her silently and holding a crimson parasol over their heads. Compared to the arguably unassuming girl, he stood out like a hornet nest on an apple tree, though his stance was entirely neutral. Using a free hand, he offered her a small piece of cloth.

"Eugh. Thanks," the girl choked out of herself, her tone strained and nasally. Pressing the rag against her nose, she blew her heart, soul and nostrils into it, folding it neatly so that all the dirty parts were covered up by each other. "I'unno what I'd do without you, Jii-san... I may be a great and responsible smith, but little things like this just don't cross my mind, y'know?" She nodded rather seriously, contorting the corners of her mouth into a cheeky grin. "Which is exactly why we're the blacksmithing world's greatest duo, nyehe~"

The giant next to her remained silent, tilting his head gently to the side. He had never been much in the way of an extrovert—even for a Makina—and so his companion simply filled in what she imagined his lines to be while attempting a "gruff" voice. "Hmm. Hmm. You're very correct, Kōsochi. In fact, even those schmucks from Kyoto have nothing on us! Hmm!" Having closed her eyes as she "got into character," Kōsochi raised one of her eyelids and looked at Jii-san disapprovingly; frivolously chastising him for her own theatrics.

"Nuh-uh. We're above calling anyone a schmuck, y'know. Even if they refuse to stop complaining about 'tradition this' and 'heritage that,' or harassing you with nonsense about your products. Or trying to underpay you so you go out of business. Or... Being total schmucks. Jeez, those guys are impossible!" She stopped for a second, taking a moment to visually admire the armour she had cobbled together for her partner. "I mean... I guess it could use some work..." Her head hung low momentarily, before snapping right back into a provocative smirk. "Well, it can't be helped! I can make out some tiny houses over there, that must be it, right?" She pointed to the horizon on the right, where the first markings of a town had began sprawling about. Feeling the wildly fluttering pollen creeping up on her again, Kōsochi inched towards Jii-san suspiciously.

"Let's make a real cool entrance, okay? I don't want anyone to miss it, sho..." Pleady-eyed, she adopted a sickeningly sweet inflection and pressed her pointy-fingers together, something Jii-san had grown accustomed to even if he saw no need for it. If his master needed something, he would provide. It was that easy. Without hesitation, he squatted so that the girl could climb onto his back, and in no time the two were careening towards Nagashima. Kōsochi laughed delightedly as they ran, basking in the feeling of wind brushing against her skin and her hair billowing behind her. Like an excited toddler, she extended her arms out as if trying to fly, causing the old makina to leap into the air in order to humour her. By the time they had landed, they were already met with the bewildered gazes of the people of Nagashima; wondering whether to be merely confused, afraid or agitated. Seeing that they had at least a temporary audience, Kōsochi collected herself and took the stage from Jii-san's back.

"Again, again! I wanna go again! Ah, but... Ahem! Nya-ho, good folks of Nagashima! You've been blessed by a visit from the last heir of the Yasumasa heritage; Kōsochi Yasumasa! I'll be staying in town for a while because we're looking for someone, so don't worry about being unable to make a commission on time, and..." She sighed in the middle of her sentence. At the end of the day, her name still wasn't much of a head-turner.

"Guh, they're totally not paying us attention anymore. Let's just fetch some tea..."

Blu · Feb 28, 2022

THE GHOST AND THE HEART

Hakurei × Shirayuki

▎February 16^th, 1620
▎Noon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
INTERACTIONS:

Pepsionne

Glassred

"Gather one, gather all, and listen to a tale so chilling that you'll soil your hakama as you dart home to safety!" The storytelling beggar from before begins to gather a crowd within the teahouse establishment. Despite his haggard appearance, his boisterous energy is proving to be rather infectious as curious patrons decide to see what all of the fuss is about. "But what's a tale without a stiff drink, huh?! Oh tea just won't do! Come, surely you fine folks have a cup 'o sake to spare?!" Then, the presence of a couple of noteworthy individuals caught the man's attention. "Oi, oi, oi! You two look like a far-traveled pair!"

The beggar points to two well-dressed young men: Haru and Inei. "Are you noblemen? Officials? No- Samurai perhaps?! Could it be? A samurai and a Makina?"

At the sound of such a claim, the patrons all turn their eyes toward the pair as whispers break out among the crowd. This isn't Kyoto—a Makina is always a rare sight around these parts. "No wait!" The beggar draws the attention of the crowd once more with his booming voice. "Now that's a samurai and a Makina!" He points to another pair that had just entered not mere moments ago. This time it was a towering man in samurai armor and his female companion in fanciful attire.

The man rushes to greet them, but elects to ignore the girl and turns his attention immediately to the armor-clad giant. "Noble samurai, I am but a humble wandering storyteller who asks for nothing but a bit of food and drink in exchange for some forewarning words. If you and your lovely Makina," he motions at Kōsochi, "would deign to listen to my tale and spare a bit of kindness." He then looks back to Haru and Inei. "As would you, sirs."

Everyone seems to gather around the four notable figures that was pointed out by the beggar as they awaited this so-called 'forewarning'. He clears his throat, readying to mystify those gathered here. "It is called the 'tale of the snow-haired Makina'."

"Damn, damn, damn! Am I going to die here, just like that?! I've escaped one cruel fate not so long ago only to be thrust into another? I'm definitely going to haunt this friggin' town after I bite it—mark my words! Just one good meal, that's all I wanted! Just one good-" Hakurei's thoughts are abruptly ended by a feminine voice emanating behind him.

"G-Give me back my sword, thief!" Purely on a mixture of instinct and total fear, Hakurei's body jolts around in a complete one-eighty. As he faces whomever—or whatever—was behind him, he shouted. "AAHHH!" "AAHHH!" The two yelped in unison at the sight of one another. The other is a young woman, short in stature and with distinctive white hair. Her clothing is nothing to scoff at either as they seem rather decorative and well-tailored; her eyes gleam with an ethereal pale blue.

"Why are you yelling?!" Hakurei questions her as he, himself, was still panicking.

"Because you're a thief and likely a pervert who is about to rob me of my maidenly innocence!"

"Wh- You- I don't want your innocence or your sword!"

"Then give it BACK!" The girl grabs a hold of her sword with both hands and yanks it hard while simultaneously pushing Hakurei backwards, into the stream.

He falls flat on his butt and feels quite a bit of pain from the rocky ground. "You bitch!" He uselessly throws water at her as some desperate form of retribution. But upon the water splashing against her body, sparks of electricity can be seen and her chest suddenly splits apart—pushing her robes aside—to reveal a cracked Ghost: an operating core. "So she is a Makina!" Frozen, Hakurei simply stares at her exposed interior incredulously.

Seeing what had happened, the Makina's chest closes on its own and she wraps her robes together tightly, screaming as she does so; her cheeks flushed red. "So you are a pervert!" The next thing Hakurei sees is a closed fist and, then, lights out.

"So... that's the long and short of it." The Makina sighs before taking a seat next to Hakurei—now sporting a black eye—on the riverbank. "Oh, I'm Shirayuki by the way. Nice to meet you, and sorry about the eye." She makes a short bow and sticks her tongue out to make the situation seem as if it was some cutesy misunderstanding.

"She's not cute at all..." Hakurei, still bitter, thinks to himself. "So you're wandering Japan, looking for a partner who's compatible with you so you can go into the depths of Yomi to find something called a 'mother signal'? But also, your Ghost's damaged so you can't really defend yourself all too well, huh?"

"That's right. You wouldn't happen to know any brave warriors, would you, Turnip?" She cheerfully inquires.

An angry vein bursts forward on his forehead. "It's Hakurei. And no, I wouldn't say that I have. I wouldn't wish such a fate on my worst enemies and I'm not speaking of Yomi."

"I see," Shirayuki stands up and stretches her arms up to the sky, "that's too bad. Y'know, you're the first person I've met who hasn't immediately run away from me. I have no idea why anyone would avoid little old me."

"I wanted to run away but my feet were paralyzed with fear—not that I'd ever admit that aloud. But, seriously, how clueless is this machine?!" Hakurei turns his head up to face her standing figure. "You're the odd one here. What's with you? I've never seen or heard of a Makina with your mannerisms. You're so... lifelike." Hakurei was right. Seemingly all Makina act as cold as the steel that forms their physical being. This Shirayuki is definitely a peculiar specimen.

Her once merry smile is now replaced with a frown upon hearing his observation. "Yeah, I know..." She sits back down. "I'll save them from this cruelty..." She shakes her head and looks at Hakurei with a hasty excitement. "Oh it's nothing! More importantly: I'll be in this area for the next few days, will you come visit me again? I really don't have any friends so I'd like someone to talk to if I get lonely. Is this a weird request?"

Without saying anything, Hakurei gets up and slings his fishing net over his shoulder. "Sure, if I'm in the need for fish." He says nonchalantly. He then starts to walk away, back toward the direction of his home.

"Oh, I hear the fish here are very nutritious, not to mention tasty! Not that I ever had any before but I spied on some townsfolk who said as much- B-Bye Hakurei! I'll see you later!" She energetically waves him off.

He casually reciprocates without turning back. "Yeah, I'll see ya. No chance in hell am I coming back here. She's like a bad omen."

Pepsionne · Mar 1, 2022

Light and Shadow

Haru × Inei

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Noon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Glassred

Both Haru and Inei looked over in the direction of sudden commotion. Once again, the old beggar seemed to take to loud disturbance and attention like a fish to water. The crowd’s interest only fed his confidence further.

Haru’s gaze was flat as the man called them out from within the crowd, dozens of eyes now suddenly laid upon them. A sneer soured his feminine features, turning several looks of curiosity into those of fear. Haru wasn’t just a samurai, hell, if anything he was a bounty hunter first and a samurai second. He hated when people failed to recognize that. His vicious ego began to rear its head in impulsive anger. Inei took notice of Haru’s silent behavior as it began to snowball the longer the man spoke. He shook his head gently towards his partner, signaling to let it go, this was not what they were here for. His dark eyes drifted over to the door, where two new individuals emerged from, bringing a fresh gust of spring air with them. Inei’s gaze had frozen on the two, specifically the taller male figure, almost immediately. Makina were not common here. He could tell that much based on the way the citizens in the teahouse had gazed at him with equal parts fear and curiosity after the beggar had singled them out. Based on this calculation, the probability of another Makina being present in the same town at the same time was immensely low.

“Haru,” Inei’s voice was low as the Makina leaned across the table towards him. Haru reacted in a similar fashion, leaning in towards Inei to pick up on the low tones the Makina pitched his way. “The male is a Makina,” he said, observing the beggar address the young woman as if she were the machine instead. “It is odd, we need to keep an eye on them until we find this snow haired Makina. I do not wish to risk our chance.”

Haru nodded solemnly. He flagged a waitress over before the crowd began to choke around them any further than it already had and ordered a bottle of sake for their table. The woman was quick, grabbing their order and delivering it to them before the old beggar had even finished talking to the two new arrivals. Haru grabbed the bottle and poured a quick shot full in the shallow ceramic cups they had been provided. Inei remained silent, watching his partner’s movements with a blank gaze. His senses were still scanning their surroundings to pick up on any information that they could. At the old man’s chilling mention of the snow haired Makina, Inei locked his dark eyes with Haru’s. The samurai nodded before he stood from their table and made his way through the small crowd.

Haru sidled up to the beggar who stood in front of the two newcomers still. He threw an arm over the man’s shoulder, a pleasant smile adorning his face. “A little indulgence never hurt anyone eh?” He said with a light hearted laugh, pushing the small cup of sake into the man’s hand firmly. A bit of the liquid sloshed over the side and onto his clothing from the action, but Haru didn’t apologize. The light haired male swallowed down the rising bitterness that stirred in his chest. His hand tightened on the beggar’s shoulder as his light gaze fell upon the two that stood in the entryway still. “You and your Makina are welcome to join our table if you'd like,” he smiled faintly. Haru could feel the cold steel of Inei’s gaze piercing his back. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite,” he winked, gesturing with a tilt of his head back at the dark haired male that stared at them unashamedly.

Haru guided the beggar back through the crowd that his loud mouth had created and with a firm grip on his shoulder, urged him to sit down. Haru plopped down next to the man with a contented smile before pouring two more cups of sake, one for him and one for Inei. The Makina slid the cup towards himself but had no intention of drinking it. “Well, go on then,” Haru said after downing his shot. “Fascinate us with your lovely tale. I'm in the mood to be amused.”

Glassred · Mar 3, 2022

DANGER! The Proud Smith and Her Giant

KŌSOCHI × JII-SAN

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Noon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Pepsionne

Groaning and mumbling, Kōsochi rocked her body from side to side atop Jii-san's shoulders. She wasn't particularly upset about the minimal interest the townsfolk showed in her wares and namesake, but disgruntled that she hadn't expected it. She had only spent a few months in the shōgunate's capital, yet already she felt its fish-scented, snobbish touch upon her. Of course they wouldn't be interested, they're farmers and spinners after all. It really wasn't a big deal, but in comparison to the uppity craftsmen of larger cities, she prided herself in her ability to perfectly understand—and thus provide for—the needs of the common man. If she couldn't even read the air and strike where the gold veins are, how could she consider herself a credible smith? Relatability was a big part of her game, which is why she had directed her undignified 'mount' to the nearest teahouse. The unfiltered and loudmouthed maw of the dawdler's den; nowhere could she get a better idea of what Nagashima was missing.

Barely dodging the underside of the humble gate leading up to the teahouse, Jii-san slid open the paper-like door that served as its entrance. Almost immediately, a plethora of heavy scents assaulted the duo; herbal teas mixing with smoke and alcohol. It was loud and rambunctious, an atmosphere Jii-san silently tolerated and Kōsochi didn't particularly mind. She was just about to grit her teeth and barge in, when a boisterous beggar began scurrying their way.

The man almost stumbled over his own feet as he rushed to the door-frame, carelessly calling out to the mechanical giant. "Noble samurai, I am but a humble wandering storyteller who asks for nothing but a bit of food and drink in exchange for some forewarning words. If you and your lovely Makina would deign to listen to my tale and spare a bit of kindness." He briefly met eyes with the girl, talking down to her as if she was an ornamental lantern decorating the street. Kōsochi had to hold back the urge to scoff like a brown-nosed official, opting instead to hop down from Jii-san's shoulders and walking past the beggar without looking at him once.

"Hey, Jii-san—look. This guy's totally making fun of us." Her face and tone were both completely deadpan, acting out the role of a tired cynic perfectly. "It's totally tough being a hard-working gal as is, y'know? Practically no-one appreciates you for what you do, y'know? I'm trying to make an honest living here, and guys like this just refuse to see me as worth their time. Seriously, does everyone think they're too good for me? I was just about to listen to his story, too. Guess I'll just drown myself in liqour without sharing, that's totally the better thing to do. Schmucks in Kyoto, schmucks in Nagashima. Hey, Jii-san... whadd'ya say we buy a bottle of the fanciest spirit they've got?"

She continued this relentless, straight-faced tirade until she felt that the man had been sufficiently psyched out. She knew how to provoke an apologetic reaction from folk like him; it came naturally as part of her job, way back when the beetle-faced merchants were making their rounds round her childhood dwelling. In truth, she felt no enmity over an honest mistake—and so she giggled and flashed the man a cheeky grin before he got the idea to lower his head and start apologizing. It was then—after he had recovered—that his words ignited a sparkle in the girl's eyes.

"It is called the 'tale of the snow-haired Makina'."

Filled with newborn excitement, she exchanged a gratified glance with Jii-san and then snapped her gaze back to the beggar, who was already being distracted by a rich-looking man; wrapping himself around him like a foreboding omen over a toppled stone-stack. Kōsochi quickly perked up as the fellow invited her and her companion to sit at his table, her eyebrows and mouth twisting into what would be a cross mark were they melded together. With people like him, she smelled both danger and opportunity. She folded her arms sternly.

"I'll take ya' up on that offer." Her eyes narrowed in the direction of the dark presence staring them down, a twitch in her ears turning into a barely noticeable nod at the sound of three, tinny bell-rings. "Nyehe~heh. I'll have ya' know, though... We won't be accepting any competition." Kōsochi laid her cards honestly and plainly on the table in a banter-like fashion. If these two—by some coincidence—were also here to hunt for their target, they'd have to beat them to the punch. She didn't know why, but this unique-sounding Makina was clearly very important to Jii-san; and that's all that mattered.

As the smith-makina duo followed the men to their table, two more rings of the bell could be heard.

Blu · Mar 7, 2022

THE GHOST AND THE HEART

Hakurei × Shirayuki

▎February 16^th, 1620
▎Noon ⇒ Afternoon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
INTERACTIONS:

Pepsionne

Glassred

The beggar had now begun to question his choice of targets after being subsequently manhandled like a ragdoll by Haru; with the latter firmly sitting him down for a drink and to tell his tale. The trio was quickly joined by Kōsochi—who the beggar had mistaken for a Makina and was made to apologized for—and her armor-clad compatriot. Kōsochi had then mentioned something regarding 'competition', aimed at Haru and Inei. The beggar could only surmise that, at least, the female samurai had set her sights on finding the 'snow-haired Makina' since both seem interested in the subject.

"Lady Kōsochi, if your intentions is to find this machine then I really advise against it. You're likely a skilled warrior but from all the accounts that I've gathered including my own eyewitness story, this rogue Makina is particularly dangerous." He quickly downs another cup of sake and lets out a satisfied breath. "But perhaps this tale will dissuade you." He closes his eyes in deep contemplation. The curious crowd seems to gather near their table to indulge in this story but does their best to keep a polite distance.

"Haunting these lands is a rogue Makina of snow-white hair and ethereal visage. It moves like a phantom in the night and to be in its presence is to suffer winter's cold grasp. It leaves a katana in a shallow stream and waits for any unfortunate enough to come across the solitary blade. If you see a sword in a stream, do not dare to retrieve it, for the sword is a cursed object. If after half a minute, the sword does not cease dripping with water: it is likely that the snow-haired Makina is near. Flee as you might, but this Makina is quicker than Raijin's lightning. By now, your fate is sealed. Yomi calls for you."

After which, the beggar opens his eyes again. "Now I know that may sound like a folk tale you would tell children to scare them from wandering around by their lonesome, but I also personally witnessed this snow-haired Makina in person!" He boldly slams his fist onto the table for effect. But before he continues, he partakes in another round of sake. Reddened face, he proceeds.

"It was not but three nights prior! I was wandering the outskirts of town when I came upon a young lady washing clothes by the stream. Then, out of the corner of her eye: she saw the alluring shimmer of a katana's blade floating inconspicuously within the water. Only when she picked it up could I confirm the object's identity. I quickly hid in some nearby bushes to watch the events unfold. Surely enough, the katana had not stopped dripping with water and, what could I only describe as a fierce, spectral figure materialized out of nowhere. It was hideous and fearsome—like Amanozako had descended! I ducked my head in fear that the foul machine would take notice of me, but, even with ears covered, I could hear a grisly scream. Mustering whatever courage that had not left my body, I peeked through the brush and saw that both the woman and Makina had vanished, her unwashed clothes still lying there. Most horrifying of all was this unexplainable chill that had filled the air. It dug into me so deep that I loss consciousness then and there! And when I came to: I ran to town and have since been warning the locals about this tale. I've heard the rumor in neighboring towns but I never thought I would witness such a thing with my own two eyes."

Hushed whispers begin to break out among the gathered.

Hakurei's jaunt home was, thankfully, free of any more strange happenstances. He sighs, relieved, as he see his small, dingy shack in the distance. Unfortunately, he would be fishless tonight. "Grilled or steamed turnips? The possibilities are endless..." He somberly tilts his head to one side. He then removes a small booklet from his robes and inspects its contents, hovering his finger over one specific entry—number four: have a feast. "I was so close to accomplishing this task. That katana would've sold for a pretty koban. If only that machine girl hadn't showed up. She already had it in her head that I was a thief. Maybe I should've stolen it. Who was she gonna tell anyway?" Hakurei shakes his head disapprovingly.

"No, no, she knocked me out cold with a single punch. These machine humans aren't that easy to cross." He slumps his shoulders, defeated. As he arrives home, Hakurei is treated to more bad news. Rummaging through his supplies are a trio of gruff-looking men, and they don't seem to be in any hurry to leave. "Crap, not these guys... This is the last thing I need right now." Clearing his thoughts an stiffening up his shoulders, Hakurei walks confidently toward the unsavory individuals.

"Well, well, if isn't our favorite little turnip farmer." A man with a long scar across his right cheek grins as Hakurei approaches.

"Bako, Yugo, Kasa. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Hakurei asks, firm but polite.

"You know why we're here: it's about due on the old man's debt and chump change just ain't cutting it anymore. This shitty shack and field are owe to us by right, you got that?" Bako, the scarred man, explains.

"No more talk, boy. We're starting to think you've been giving us the run around this entire time. All of your 'genius' ventures we had to suffer through, only to be paid in pennies." Yugo—a bald, muscular man—walks up next to Hakurei, staring him down.

"You have too little faith in me. I'm on the verge of making some real money here. I just need a bit mor-" A punch to Hakurei's stomach from Yugo sends him hurling to the dirt.

"Didn't I say we're done with the 'talking'? Hey Bako, tell me why we can't just slit his throat instead of putting up with all of his nonsense?"

"Dumbass, if we occupy his place with him dead, that'll just draw attention to ourselves. He sorta has a reputation as the turnip seller in town. People will take notice of this trash going missing."

"You know what we do need instead of this run down, old place? A Makina. Imagine how useful having one could be? I hear they're capable of all sortsa things. And if it was a pretty girl... Hehehe, all the better!" The burly Kasa chimes in.

"Heh, in your dreams maybe. But damn, I'm all pissed off now. Think I'll kick this little shit around a bit to relieve this tension and to remind him of the seriousness of his situation." Yugo bends his leg back.

But as he goes to kick Hakurei, the farmer extends a hand. "Wait! W-Wait... You want a Makina? I know where you can find one." Hakurei has a pained smile on his face as he covers his stomach with his hand. "Just let me do the talking."

"Hakurei! You're back already? That was quick! You want to chat? I'm free!" Shirayuki proclaims with a beaming expression.

"Shirayuki, listen to me. You said you were looking for warrior types, right? I forgot I knew some. These guys are the cream of the crop too."

"Hmm?" Shirayuki glances over and sees the bandits standing some distance away. "Those unscrupulous-looking three? Are you sure? They don't seem to be the most noble..." Shirayuki puts a thumb to her lips as she think.

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover. They saved me more times than I can count. You'd mistake them for the shogun's guard if you saw how they handle a blade."

She takes a few more seconds to think before nodding her head in agreement. "You're right! I'm the last person who should be judgmental of others, and I trust your instincts, Hakurei. After all, you didn't run away from me. You could tell I wasn't a bad person. I knew having you as a friend would pay off!"

Hakurei responds with a half-hearted smile. "Friend? We've barely met today."

"Mmhmm, and I've decided that you're my first friend!" Hakurei is strangely taken back by such a naive statement. Something about this girl seems so genuine. Hakurei didn't really know how to respond, so he decides to focus on the business at hand and ignores the claim altogether. Shirayuki, meanwhile, makes her way over to the bandits and introduces herself. "Alright, new friends! Let's find somewhere we can talk. I wonder which one of you will become my partner?"

Kasa grins. "Hehe, if you'll just follow us. We have a sort of 'hideout'. We can speak there." He motions her along and is followed close behind by Yugo.

Bako walks up behind Hakurei and gets his attention by clearing his throat. "Well I'll be damned. You're right. That is one weird Makina. But whatever, not like I care for the details. Here," he tosses a small pouch at Hakurei, "your cut. A Makina is definitely worth more than everything that old man owed. You better pray this works out. 'Cause if not then we're coming back and this time: no more schemes." With that, Bako and his crew leaves as Hakurei stands there clutching the coin pouch in his hand.

Pepsionne · Mar 7, 2022

Harsh sunlight and a passive moon

Haru × Inei

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Noon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Glassred

"Nyehe~heh. I'll have ya' know, though... We won't be accepting any competition."

A dark look crawled to settle within the light color of Haru’s eyes after the young woman had spoken. Competition. So Inei was right, they were after the snow haired Makina as well. He eyed their figures briefly before dragging the beggar away to their table. The woman had a small frame, her body dwarfed in comparison to the Makina that stuck by her side. Even Haru himself had to bend down a bit to look her directly in the eye. Unless she had some secret talent that would give her an edge, Haru would have no problem handling the woman in combat. It was the Makina they had to worry about. The samurai’s size alone made Inei look like a schoolboy when seated next to him. As they learned early on into their partnership as well, Inei was not made for close quarters combat. Haru winced inwardly at the thought of the larger Makina nearly ripping Inei in half like a fresh pastry.

He cleared his throat once seated, his attention split between the beggar and the two new guests at their table. Haru reached for one of the empty ceramic cups that rested silently on the wooden table. His slender fingers tilted the sake container into the shallow bowl with a clumsy manner. Several onlookers flinched in anticipation of the wide spill that drenched the well worn table, but it never came. Haru handed the perfectly filled glass to the young woman beside him. He leaned in a bit too close for the comfort of a stranger, a lazy but confident smile sliding onto his face as he did so. The burn of the sake he had already drank and the heat of the crowd closing in around them had begun to glue several small pieces of white blonde hair to his forehead.

Haru lowered his voice an octave as he said, “To no competition then, eh?” He raised the shot in her direction before downing it, his eyes never leaving the young woman’s expression. It was a shame, she was rather pretty, but Haru wouldn’t hesitate to defeat her in battle if she became an obstacle in Inei’s goals. The Makina was important to him, and so the snow haired Makina became equally so. His normally light eyes were a deep golden brown in the heavy yellow light of the teahouse.

When the beggar spoke, the ambient rumble of conversation that filled the teahouse dipped into a frigid silence. The air was tense, electric, the anticipation that lined every person in the room colliding together to create one suffocating atmosphere. Inei remained unaffected by the change in the room. The large crowd the beggar had amassed was certainly against his preferences, but so long as people were frightened by the Makina rather than curious, he didn’t care. He didn’t need any more competition than the two that Haru had brought back to their table. Inei could feel the hulking presence of the woman’s Makina beside him. If they were going to battle a foe like this, they would need to rely heavily on diversion and surprise attacks. In sheer blunt force, both he and Haru would be crushed in an instant.

Inei’s calculating eyes followed Haru’s languid movements as he conversed with the partner of the rival Makina. A light sheen of sweat glistened across his partner’s skin and the tips of his hair had grown wet in the smoke laden haze of the tea house. Inei was not bothered by the change in temperature. The crowded bodies had begun to stoke the humidity in the room with every exhale of damp breath. Inei could read Haru’s face like a book, the man was on the same page as him. The two that had joined them were a threat, but one they were not willing to fight if other options arose first. To onlookers, Haru seemed to be flirting with the woman beside him, his eyes lingering a bit too long on her body, his gestures too close and friendly for someone he had just met. Inei had known the man too long to know that he was sizing her up, judging her reaction times, how she handled things at the table and her overall demeanor. Inei kept half of his attention on the other Makina to catch any protective instincts that threatened to arise.

Once the beggar began speaking of this ghostly Makina, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. People held their breaths in fear, hollow inward gasps sounding at every harrowing twist the beggar threw their way. Haru listened to him with his eyes half lidded and a gentle smirk softening his features. He rested one elbow on the table and cradled his cheek within his palm. A rogue Makina, huh. They tended to be dangerous without a human partner, that much of the tale seemed to align. Was Inei’s goal to capture or take down this Makina in favor of a reward from the shogunate? His eyes drifted to his partner, taking in the placid expression that was ever present on the machine’s visage. No—if that was the case, he would have stated it to Haru long ago. Inei wanted this Makina for some other reason, one that Haru couldn’t quite fathom yet.

Hushed whispers spread through the room like wildfire once the beggar finally finished his tale with a dramatic flourish. Haru took in the scene the old man had outlined with a grain of salt. He seemed the type to embellish where it suited him, hoping for unanimous pity or respect depending on the tale. Haru leaned in close to the man. He laid his palm flat on the table, sliding it in the clear vicinity of the beggar’s personal space in an act of dominance. He leveled his eyes with the man, a soft smile accentuating his delicate features rather than souring them. But the look in his eyes was void, deadly, dominant. A bead of sweat finally broke from his brow and dripped down his temple. “Take me to the spot you saw the woman disappear and I’ll give you more gold than you’ve ever seen in your life,” he stated, his voice low and silky as it smoothed over the demanding presence of his tone.

Glassred · Mar 14, 2022

DANGER?! Dense Smith, Silent Mountain

KŌSOCHI × JII-SAN

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Noon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Pepsionne

"Lady Kōsochi..." The girl repeated, basking in hearing herself adressed with such a fancy title, denied to her on a permanent basis due to appearances and demeanor issues. Not convinced at all by the beggar's foreboding words, she stared him down with a proud and determined grin. "Don't ya' dare underestimate us, ya' hear? Jii-san over there has his mind set on this, and so do I! We've done this sorta thing before, err—more or less." She chuckled awkwardly, nudging the side of her companion in an encouraging gesture. As expected, the old samurai didn't offer much in the way of a response, opting instead to seat himself after flashing the group a non-commital nod. The tatami mat sunk underneath his weight, a good lap's height into the floor. For the entire duration of the story, he remained almost completely still; a stone statue placing complete trust into the judgement of his 'master.' Unnecessary stress disrupted the system. If needed, he would be promptly alerted by the single ring of a tiny bell.

On the other hand, Kōsochi had already melted into the atmosphere and heat of the crowd. The smoky haze warmed by the mingling of bodies and boiling kettles was a fitting element for her, and she winked in the way of whispers and unabashed gazes. Laughing all the while, the one person she paid barely any attention to was the enigmatic man and his Makina, the competition she had personally declared. Their capabilities would not be revealed in the deluge of tea and sake, nor was she the type to prepare instead of going with the flow. She played—subconsciously—a game she had learned from the wilderness instead, where the only cards laid out on the table were those which brought an uneasy uncertainty to your opponent, had them second-guessing their way out of a scuffle by virtue of smoke and mirrors. She turned to wave at an excited-looking child squished between the throngs just as Haru began pouring her a sakazuki, returning her attention to him only by the time he motioned to hand it over. Looking up at his tipsy visage, she accepted the cup undisturbed by his closeness and thrust it against his, causing dozens of sake droplets to fly everywhere and singe the room in their odour.

"Hey, don't tell me you're giving up already?" She lowered the sakazuki without drinking, tilting her head to the side with a raised eyebrow. 'To no competition' could only mean one thing; that one of the sides was intending to withdraw. By process of elimination, that sure as hell wasn't going to be hers. Any other interpretations of the comment failed to cross her mind. She briefly eyed the samurai and shrugged, they really didn't stand out much from the bunch of Kyōto from what she could tell. Him and his shadowy partner... Did they have an interesting story to tell over the campfire? That was the one and only thing to make people truly stand apart. Kōsochi quickly shifted her attention from Haru to Jii-san, and after confirming his status to the beggar, about to indulge everyone about his incident. As he conveyed his tale to the assembled audience, the blacksmith listened with bated breath; perking up at every twist; completely submerged in them with that cross-like face of hers. Then—finally—as he revealed the gruesome ending, she released all her tension into a piercing shriek, except...

"WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-NYAHAHA~HA!" Laughter? Indeed, she had surprisingly given in to a type of laugh you might expect to hear after describing an embarassing accident to your old man. "Ack—That girl's a total shut-in! That story sounds like something people would make up about Tami-tan, it totally does. Man, that just makes me feel bad for her..." She casually trailed off, unaware that she had inadvertently revealed the secret of her diminished sanity. It was her experience with Makinas that let her dismiss the ghastliness of the story; that the woman was even allowed to scream; or the lack of a body or any of its remains. She really wouldn't be surprised if said woman was standing among the crowds at this very moment. Entertained, she was only disturbed from her musings by the act of the blonde-haired man—one she considered particularly egregious.

“Take me to the spot you saw the woman disappear and I’ll give you more gold than you’ve ever seen in your life,” he said. Now that? That hurt the smith right in the pockets.

"H-Hey! That's not fair at all, you can't just buy him! I mean, then it'd be totally awkward if I tagged along! I'd feel like a hobo, y'know? Also, it's completely unsportsman-like, among many other things." She lectured Haru, not knowing herself where she was actually going with this. "What I'm trying to say, is... He should take us both and then you can pay him as an unrelated gesture of good will. Doesn't that sound much more fair? Or—wait—is that what you meant by the toast? How dirty!"

Blu · Mar 16, 2022

THE GHOST AND THE HEART

Hakurei × Shirayuki

▎February 16^th, 1620
▎Afternoon —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
INTERACTIONS:

Pepsionne

Glassred

All the tension in the room vanished as Kōsochi let out a howling laugh in response to the beggar's tales. It seems she isn't buying a single word of it, describing the story as being similar to previous fabrications she'd heard of. Red-faced from the alcohol, the beggar doesn't take too kindly to Kōsochi's skepticism and slams his hand onto the table. "Hey, I'm tellin' the truth here! That Makina is out there and it's dangerous!" The beggar reiterates; sake sloshing about in the cup held in his other hand.

But it seems his fanciful stories aren't entirely ignored as intrigue glazes over Haru's golden eyes. He shifts his being into the beggar's personal space, forcing the latter back onto his zabuton in anxiety. The aura that the handsome young samurai exudes is so incredibly domineering—tyrannical even. He requests that the beggar shows him the place mentioned in his account; openly promising him great wealth in return. This proposal was much to Kōsochi's dismay as she began to complain about the inequity of Haru's strategy before ultimately worming her way into the deal without giving up anything on her part.

Now while the beggar is honest in his desire to not put anyone in danger, the prospect of gold is just a bit too tempting to pass up. "O... kay." The word involuntarily escapes his lips. "I-I'll show you! You seem the capable sort after all. But don't expect me to stick around once we get there!"

It feels as if an eternity had passed as Hakurei stands there beside the stream, unmoving; trembling hand tightly clutching the coin purse to the point his knuckles turned white. He suddenly turns his face toward the sky, with fist raised in victory and a satisfied expression. "Yes! I just secured the means to complete task number four! I can't believe how easy it was to trick that stupid Makina! The feast is on tonight!" But his celebration is swiftly brought to an end as he feels something tugging at his hakama.

He turns and looks down, immediately taking note of the strange presence before him: a small snow-furred kitsune—no bigger than an adolescent housecat. "Huh? Hey, bugger off. I don't have any food for you." Hakurei says with an annoyed scowl. Then, he notices something familiar in its mouth: an earring in the shape of a crescent moon. "Is that...?" After a few seconds, he finally recalls where he'd seen such a thing. "Wait, you know that Makina, don't you? Shirayuki?" The kitsune gently places the earring onto the ground and gives a friendly yip; its bushy tail whipping back and forth like an excited pup.

"Well, if you want to find her," Hakurei points his finger downstream, "she's going that way." Hakurei ties his coin pouch to his sash with a string. "And as for me," he begins to walk away, "It's time for a feast." But as he's leaving, he notices the kit following him closely behind. Hakurei stops and spins around. "Hey, quit it. You're going in the wrong direction." Unfortunately, it doesn't show any sign of understanding him. Hakurei sighs and just simply continues on his way.

The tattered shoji screen door to Hakurei's shack slides open just a tad—only enough to allow the turnip farmer to peek outside. His suspicions are quickly confirmed as he sees the kitsune lying there patiently waiting for him. It had never stopped following him so Hakurei had decided to duck into his home, hoping that the fox would give up and leave him alone. No dice. "You're a persistent little pest, aren't you? Fine, come on in." He slides the door open all the way and the kitsune scampers inside. Hakurei takes a seat next to his soot-covered hearth and carefully studies the movements of the kitsune as it wanders about the enclosed space.

"It's like I said: I don't have any food and you're not gonna find that Makina hiding out in here." But, once again, the kitsune ignores him. Hakurei does the same and pulls out his cherished booklet once more. "Task number four... I'll get to you as soon as I get rid of this fox." He glides his finger up and down the written list of tasks but soon finds himself stopping at a particular one. He hesitates as he reads it in his mind. Task number two: make a friend.

"I've decided that you're my first friend!"

Those words echo deeply within his thoughts and the image of her genuine joyful expression is seared into his memory. He is taken out of it when the kitsune puts its front paws onto his lap and lays the earring down on him. Hakurei picks up the earring and contemplatively stares at it. "What is this tightness in my chest...?" He grips his robe. "Guilt...? That damned, weird Makina..." His smile betrays his shame. Hakurei stands up and looks down at the kitsune; his eyes flashes with renewed purpose and the fox could sense it too.

"Shirayuki helped me to complete a task. I guess it's only right that I return the favor." The kit yips in approval accompanied by a wagging tail. Grabbing a nearby woodcutting axe, Hakurei rushes toward the door but stops just short of it. He turns his head around and sees the haori of his late master hanging on the far wall—one of the two things left to Hakurei after the old man had passed. Without saying anything, Hakurei rips the dusty robe off the hook it hung from and wears it over his clothes. "Let's go."

The sun was beginning to set as the beggar led the parties of Haru and Inei, and Kōsochi and Jii-san to the locale where the woman had disappeared as promised. "This is it. I gotta get outta here before nighttime so if you'll pay me Lord Haru, I can be on my way back to the safety of the town." The beggar rubs his hands together in anticipation of a significant payment.

The area looks fairly innocuous. But to a more discerning eye, there are hints of unusual activity about. For instance, the presence of footprints that congregate closely together. Stranger still, flecks of ice can be seen in the stream itself. Whatever snow that remained from winter had completely melted by now so its appearance here is certainly noteworthy.

Meanwhile, Hakurei has just arrived back at the stream as well but, as soon as he saw the group from a distance, he slyly hides himself in the nearby brush—the same one that the beggar had probably used. "Who the hell are they? They look like trouble... Best to just avoid them."

"Seriously, I don't wanna be around when that snow-haired Makina shows up so let's just get this deal done." The beggar looks around nervously as if scanning for any sign of the infamous machine.

"'Snow-haired Makina'? He can't mean... Wait, this guy looks familiar too... It's that vagrant that tried to scam me out of a turnip...!" Hakurei bursts forward from out of the bushes and points a finger toward the group, with the kitsune resting on his head.

"Ahhhh! It's that evil Makina! We're gonna die here!" The beggar shouts, confusing the kitsune for white hair.

"W-What?! No, you fool! It's me, the turnip vendor!" Hakurei shakes his head. He's wasting time trying to explain something so obvious. "More importantly, what's that snow-haired Makina to you, huh?!" Hakurei directs the question at the four strangers.

Pepsionne · Mar 22, 2022

Harsh sunlight and a passive moon

Haru × Inei

▎February 16th, 1620
▎Evening —

▎Nagashima | Mie Prefecture | Japan
TAGS / INTERACTIONS / MENTIONS:

Glassred

Blu

Haru sucked his teeth in disapproval once the pesky blacksmith opened her mouth to worm her way into their plans. He glanced back at her through the corner of his eye, taking in her pouty expression as she griped about the unfairness of his actions. He said nothing in response, only smirking at her deviously before shooting her a sly wink. Her desperation to keep up with them amused Haru, but most importantly it established that she was in the same boat as him and Inei. There was no hidden upper hand he had to worry about. The Samurai quickly downed the rest of the sake that was in his cup before motioning to stand.

The bright light of the late afternoon sun in its full glory had Haru grimacing as he stepped out of the dimmed tea house. Fresh spring air poured into his lungs like water, washing out the haze of smoke and sake that swirled around in his system. Inei appeared close to Haru’s side like a silent apparition, saying nothing to his partner while they waited for the others to join them.

The Makina shifted closer to his partner when the others arrived, his gaze sliding over them skeptically. His focus landed on the large Makina that shuffled out of the tea house with ground shaking steps. He must have had the same unknown drive programmed within him that Inei was feeling, otherwise there would be no reason for them to be this persistent. It lowered his guard somewhat to know that he was not the only Makina with this silent driving force to find the snow haired Makina, but he did not want to share if the Makina they sought out offered some kind of hidden benefit.

Haru and Inei walked in a silent pair while the odd group made their way to the river bank the beggar had outlined in his story. The sun had begun its descent into the horizon at this point, the day having slipped through their fingers faster than they had realized. The forest was blanketed in a hazy orange glow, accompanied by an orchestra of bird calls and insect noises.

The beggar’s body language had shifted somewhat since entering further into the forest. Haru had left one hand on the hilt of the Swiftblade, his shoulders tensed in anticipation for the slightest movement out of anyone. He didn’t trust the blacksmith and her hulking Makina enough to lower his guard yet. There was some type of non verbal communication between them, he had heard it earlier in the tea house just barely audible over the ambient noise of shuffling bodies. Haru knew that Inei had picked up on it as well, the way the Makina had locked eyes with him earlier. He couldn’t figure out what they were saying yet, but he knew it was communication meant to exist solely between the two of them. Haru didn’t trust that dynamic.

Inei’s eyes scanned over their surroundings in close detail once the beggar came to an abrupt stop by a river bank, gesturing around desperately to indicate that this was the area he had depicted in his tall tale. The Makina’s face was unreadable, but judging by the shift in his partner’s body language Haru could tell that there was something--off about the area they were in. His own eyes had skimmed over the bank’s surroundings only briefly, and had also caught hints of some weird occurrences. After a warm day like today, the soft embrace of the afternoon sun still hanging in the air, there would be no ice present in the water. Yet soft flakes of it floated around, looking unmelted and untouched.

Haru’s eyes snapped up to the beggar as he addressed him, a smile cracking across his face at the title the man used to address him. “Lord Haru, huh?” Amusement flickered across his features boldly as he let out a light chuckle. “How do you like the sound of that, Ei? Flows off the tongue nicely, kinda sexy. I told you, noble girls are where it’s at, we really gotta up our favor with the shogun when we’re done here.” he said, grip loosening on the hilt of the blade at his hip as he lost himself in a daydream, fantasizing of long days full of relaxation and indulgence.

“Haru, the gold,” Inei’s cold voice pulled his partner back to the moment at hand, paired with a sharp nudge into Haru’s side. Haru let out a soft wheeze before shooting Inei a dirty look. He rummaged through the inner layer at the front of his kimono for the pocket in which he kept a stash of gold, but just as his fingers brushed against the soft fabric of the gold pouch, a sudden noise interrupted them. Both Haru and Inei’s figures tensed nearly in sync with each other at the sudden sound of rustling branches and frantic footsteps. Haru unsheathed the swift blade and pointed it in the direction of the new arrival to their group, while Inei had removed the bow stashed on his back and notched an arrow. His aim was pointed at the new male that had burst through to interrupt their group, but his focus was split between him and the second Makina Samurai pair beside them.

“What’s it to you what we want the snow haired Makina for?” Haru said, raising an eyebrow at the newcomer that stood before them all. His gaze traced across the turnip vendor’s body, taking in his body language and stature. “Is this some sort of trap?” He asked, a spark of recognition flashing in his golden eyes as he studied the vendor’s face. He was the one arguing with the beggar earlier and ended up causing a scene. Was this some type of ploy on drawing in tourists and trying to rob them? Haru twirled the swiftblade in a tight circle as he readjusted his stance and his train of thought. “Are you two in on this?” He said, grip tightening on the handle of his blade. Inei remained rigid as he raced to process the new turn in their situation. His arrow was still pointed directly at the Turnip Vendor’s neck.

Fantasy Mononoke&Makina「 Not Accepting 」

Blu

ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

Blu

ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

Pepsionne

oi oi

Saurosian

Consecrated

Glassred

i'm the giant rat that makes all of the rules

Blu

ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

Pepsionne

oi oi

Glassred

i'm the giant rat that makes all of the rules

Blu

ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

Pepsionne

oi oi

Glassred

i'm the giant rat that makes all of the rules

Blu

ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀꜱ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴀʟɪᴠᴇ.

Pepsionne

oi oi

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