( OPEN )

[swordsitter]

Who: swordhaus + cr
When: throughout april
Where: the three apartments swordhaus uses..
What: april catch-all
Rating/Warning: probably nothing, but i'll edit as necessary.

---

[ sword mafia at home. ]

Comments

Open-- and also Mutsu's fault

[dishevelment]

I

[It was hard to turn down an offer from Mutsu-- especially when Koumei found himself reminded of the vibrant personality and legacy of his late cousin Ren Hakuren every time the young man flashed him that warm and boyish smile. The offer was doubly hard to turn down when it involved sharing quarters with Mutsu's friends and countrymen. A shared culture, even if only superficially similar, was something to be prized in this strange city of Tellus and it's 'modern' sensibilities.

What Koumei hadn't expected was that there would be so many of them. If Koumei closed his eyes, it was almost like being in one of Kou's colonial territories...

He would need to thank them, somehow.

Thus it was that he lingered near the door of their quarters, a voluminous basket of fresh fruit in his arms. Although Mutsu had assured him that his presence was not a problem, it didn't feel right entering without invitation.]

II

[3am. He couldn't sleep-- and not for lack of wanting.

After hours lying in the dark, thinking about that battle and trying in vain to contain his worries for his family, Koumei had finally had enough of the images that haunted him every time he closed his eyes. All he could think of was his brother Kouha, with his dapper hat and his cute little braids, lying bloodied on the ground. His sister Kougyoku was beside him, Metal Vessel clenched tightly in her hands as she struggled to bring forth the Magoi necessary to summon Vinea's presence in her body.

It wasn't reality; It was pessimism, and emotion clouding his sense of rationality.

Padding out into the kitchen in his slippers, Koumei sought a distraction. A cup of hot tea-- or maybe that remedy from Balbadd, with the warmed milk that had turned golden with the addition of turmeric-- might suffice...

Except, nothing in the kitchen made sense.

Several moments later an electrostatic pop could be heard, followed by an explosive crash as a ceramic-lined metal cup ruined the communal microwave.

Scalding milk soaked the counter. The golden dust of turmeric had blasted in the air and Koumei, choking on the spice, was hiding behind his feathered fan on the far side of the room.

He had just come out for a cup of warm milk, and he was honestly feeling so attacked right now.]

ii! goodbye microwave 2...

[adornmental]

[Kashuu is, contrary to what many people think, a very light sleeper most nights. It usually takes less than a knock on his door to wake him up (though whether he'll actually indulge whoever's trying and get up is another matter entirely), so the loud bang from the kitchen is definitely enough to wake him even though it's the next apartment over. WHAT 3AM SHENANIGANS ARE GOING ON--

Rushin on over to knock on the door... He sure isn't being quiet about it either, just in case there's some weird break-in or fight going on over there. No wonder they're getting sound complaints, honestly.]

Hey! Open up!

I heard a rumor that it was traditional. Besides, some appliance needed to break....

[dishevelment]

[There was an audible crash and a muffled complaint before the door creaked open.....revealing an auburn haired man in simple cloth robes peering through.]

--Sorry for the disturbance, [he said softly, obviously chagrinned, and politely bobbed his head as a show of respect.] The machines here aren't as simple as they look.

it's true... it's not swordhaus if harus hair isnt turning grey

[adornmental]

[On the plus side, that eliminates the possibility that this guy is a burglar, probably! Kashuu only fleetingly recalls him from earlier in the day; he had fruit, or something...

Well! That part isn't important right now. The important part is figuring out exactly what broke before anyone else wakes up... He's already starting to get war flashbacks and he doesn't even know it's the microwave yet, lord.]

Did you break something? That was a super loud crash-- [Don't mind him just toeing his way into the apartment and peering around.]

oh my god~

[dishevelment]

[Toe in and peer around all you want, Sir Sword Spirit. At least, Koumei assumes as much-- Mutsu had been speaking like there were many like him in the city, and it was reasonable to guess that they all lived near each other.]

It was one of the machines. I couldn't sleep, you see...

[Koumei hid his face behind his fan, hoping that the feathers and the darkened room would obscure his unease. The battlefield was a far more recent experience for him, and war is never easy on any of the participants.

Including the tacticians-- especially when the lives of his brothers and countrymen were on the line.]

I

[heiwana]

[ And low and behold Kousetsu is one sword that happens upon him standing near the door. He will look at the basket and then at Koumei with a slight tilt of his head. ]

Do you wish to...come inside?

[ Don't mind the soft, barely above whispering, voice of the gentleman with bluish green hair. He totally lives here. ]

Are you a friend of Haru-san's?

I

[dishevelment]

Haru?

[He lifted his brows curiously at the serious young man standing before him, looking more like an unassuming person who had wandered in from the streets than someone whose clothese were fine enough to belong to royalty. Koumei figured that the stranger was referring to the Kure Haru he had heard of less than a day before.

Koumei shook his head.]

No. It was Sir Mutsunokami who invited me here-- I hope I'm not intruding.

[A short, polite bow quickly followed his words. He meant no disrespect-- honest.]

[heiwana]

[ Young man? Koumei please. Kousetsu is 800+ years old but he is fairly good looking so there is that. Aside from his rather serious expression he doesn't change much when the other replies to his inquiries. ]

Mutsunokami-san invited you? [ Ah he sees now. Kousetsu just nods in understanding. ] If you were invited by another one of us...it is not intruding. Please come in.

[ He will hold the door open for the other as he motions for him to come inside. ]

[dishevelment]

[The assessment was based on demeanor alone. While he's not unfamiliar with the concept of spirits, he has no idea who has what status in this world or this household. As such, he planned to address people as they appeared and with due respect.]

Thank you, [he said, bobbing his head in a polite little bow. Toeing off his shoes, he slipped inside with a grace of movement that his unkempt appearance did nothing to hint at.]

I really do hope I'm not disturbing. A standing association like the one you and your friends share has it's own rules and boundaries. I've just arrived in this city, so I'm not entirely sure what to expect around every corner.

i

[yaayaa]

[Whenever he finally comes in, Koumei might catch sight of a small fox running out of one of the rooms, with what appears to be a very tiny (sheathed) katana clutched in its mouth.

This fox is followed shortly afterward by another small fox! Only this one is apparently talking.]

Get back here!!

[The swordfox may eventually run over in Koumei's direction, circling around his legs in a way that'd probably induce tripping if he's not careful, before going to hide behind him...]

i

[dishevelment]

--Wha??

[Under his robes may have been a better place to hide. They were made of thick, finely woven fabrics that dropped down to nearly to the floor. Only his feet were uncovered -- an excellent place to hide.

Koumei barely managed to keep his balance, clinging tightly to the basket so that nothing fell, and watched the scurrying critters with obvious surprise in his eyes.

People actually kept foxes for pets?]

[yaayaa]

[Ah. A stranger! Smallest fox skids to a stop, floundering for a moment as he's caught between chasing robofox and greeting the stranger...but no, manners first, it's important!!!

Ahem.]

Aahh...are you a new visitor to this apartment? I hope we aren't bothering you!

[As you can see, the fact he's there at all provides sufficient hiding. Robofox sits victorious! Immediately behind him.]

[dishevelment]

[Koumei stood solid, careful not to move when the little foxes were underfoot.]

It's no bother. I'm the one getting in the way of your playtime!

i!

[jyoshu]

[WELL at some point this particular wakizashi will wander on over. Horikawa definitely hesitates for a few moments before deciding to address the man outside, but all in all, when he does his tone is good-natured with helpful intent. So he trots on over to look up at him and do just that.]

Are you looking for somebody? [There's a short pause, but apparently he had something specific in mind.] Er, well, I know that we run the dojo, but I don't remember anybody outside of Mikazuki-san getting hurt, really. Do you need help finding the right apartment?

[He's jumping conclusions about that basket of fruit and get-well gifts, but at least his concern seems genuine? Let him help.]

i!

[dishevelment]

[Jump to conclusions as much as you want, stranger. The fruit is a gesture of good will, as he had neither the funds nor the skills to offer much else at the moment.]

Mikazuki? No, I was invited her by Sir Mutsunokami-- but I can't quite find him...

[jyoshu]

Eh? Mutsunokami??

[And he's being referred to so formally!? This is weird... what is going on here... That kind of feeling probably shows on Horikawa's face as he takes note of the name, though he recomposes himself quickly enough to try and make up for that.]

Ah, sorry then! I don't think he's around right now. [Cursory glance over the shoulder. Yep, can't see him, he's gone!] Would you like to come in anyway? I'm sure that he'll come back eventually.

[dishevelment]

Only if it's no imposition.

[The stranger's surprise was noted and dismissed. Mutsu was a spirit of a blade, and deserved his due respect. Casual personalities didn't change that fact-- even Koumei was afforded the respect he was due, even if he didn't request it.

It was all a matter of decorum. No one was above or below the rules of politeness.]

If you don't mind, how are the two of you related? Are you a friend?

[Translation: a fellow spirit who deserved respect too?]

ii

[spes_phthisica]

[Souji has some issues sleeping as well, mainly because night sweats and light fever and labored breathing keep conspiring to keep him awake. But it's true that he's also thinking of home, because things definitely hadn't been going very well when he left. Even though he knows that being here appears to affect nothing back home - and even though there's nothing he could do even if he was home, as bitter as that pill is to swallow - he still worries.

He's only just slipped outside the flat where he stays to wander aimlessly about for a while, but when he passes the door to one of the other sword flats, there's that noise. Blinking a bit in surprise, he lets himself inside, steering in the direction of the kitchen since that seems to be the room that is lit.

He stops in the doorway, blinking in surprise, and then has to cover his mouth with his sleeve because something in the air is causing him to choke and he really doesn't want a coughing fit right now.]

Oh dear. What happened?

ii

[dishevelment]

[Koumei looked at the stranger who had entered, eyes wide in embarrassment and surprise at the prospect of being caught in the middle of the night in the same room as a broken machine and covered with turmeric powder. This was someone he had never seen before, but recognized the eyes of a sleepless soldier even in the darkness of the apartment.]

...These machines, [he said, flicking a wary glance over at the still-sparking microwave.] The people responsible for this city didn't give us proper instruction on how to operate them.

[How was he to know that the machine would explode?!]

[spes_phthisica]

[Souji follows that momentary gaze in the direction of the micro wave, and understanding dawns. It's just as well that he's still covering his mouth, since that makes it a bit less obvious that he has to take a moment to stifle a not very polite little giggle. So that's how it was.]

Ah, don't worry about it. I know I had some embarrassing little mishaps in the beginning while trying to use the machines here.

[None quite as impressively dramatic as this, but he's definitely managed to start a minor fire at one point. He pads over to the microwave and wraps his sleeve around his hand before quickly pulling the plug.]

I take it that you don't have things like this at home either?

[dishevelment]

That's correct; there's nothing at home that runs on 'electricity' quite like this.

[He frowned at the microwave before moving to find some towels to sop the mess up. His uncertainty with the word 'electricity' was obvious-- as if the concept were almost entirely foreign to the man.

At least, in this form.]

Forgive me for disturbing you. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would try to recreate one of the traditional remedies of a kingdom to the west of my country. Clearly, that didn't work very well.

ii and so i hear your having Nightmares |D

[isolophobia]

[ Amidst the chaos of spilled milk, turmeric powder, and the noisy death of the microwave, any noise Pitch might have made in finding his way to this new dream taste of blood and fear is well covered.

Pitch waited a moment, then gingerly dropped tea towels on the countertop so the milk wouldn't spread.]

I must say, if your goal was to make as much of a mess as possible, you achieved that.

Good luck!

[dishevelment]

The machines here are a nuisance, [Koumei muttered in reply, pushing his disheveled hair out of his face so he could get a better glimpse at the shadowy, looming stranger who had come in to assist.] They make noise even if they are shut off, and the electric readings are hard to understand.

[It was a culture shock-- and a frustration that he didn't really want to be managing when he wasn't even fully certain if he was supposed to be alive or not.]

[isolophobia]

[ There's a couple other towels (plus paper towels) and a bucket, And Pitch hands the lot over with e smile that's anything but friendly. Your first mistake was thinking Pitch was here to assist. ] Well if you shove a bomb inside that does tend to create problems.

[dishevelment]

It was a cup, nothing more.

[How was he supposed to know the rules to working these devices if there was no instruction manual anywhere? And a cup was hardly a bomb....

Koumei started mopping up the mess with the towels, sweeping the excess liquid carefully into the bucket as he maneuvered. Whether the man was going to help or not didn't really matter but he didn't have the mindset to play games in his half-awake state.]