[ Semi-open ]

[tsukainikui]

Who: Yamatonokami Yasusada tsukainikui & anyone likely to be in and around swordhaus and/or the dojo.
When: Event 33ish.
What: Event shenanigans? Event shenanigans. Also a healthy dose of elemental shenanigans on the side.
Rating/Warning: There's eye gore in one prompt, and I'll edit here if anything else needs to be added...!

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[ I | IC;9/13 ]

[In the morning, it was a normal, ordinary day, and normal, ordinary days for a one Yamatonokami Yasusada included wandering the now-familiar path to the dojo to teach anyone brave enough (or stupid enough to not take note of clearly-posted warnings) to ask him for help. If he didn't have an opponent, he'd train on his own, and that would be that.

On a normal day.

Today was not a normal day, apparently, because on his way, there was that loud click that some residents might have already noticed and others might not have yet been subjected to, sudden all-encompassing blackness, and the distinct feeling that he might be sick, which did an admirable job of keeping the panic at bay. What it did not do; however, was keep the hapless sword spirit from sitting himself down right in the middle of the sidewalk. People could walk around him, but it really wouldn't do to go stumbling over his own feet until his vision returned and the vertigo faded, right? Right.

Hope he's not in the way for too long, now.]

[ II | IC;9/13-9/20 ]

[One decidedly not-normal day gave way to several more thereafter, and Yamato was... not doing too well, if he was to be honest. Which, of course, meant that he would insist he was fine and everything was normal, as Okitas (and their swords, apparently) do.

But if everything was normal, he probably wouldn't be staying home as often as he was. And if everything was normal, then he definitely wouldn't be bumping into things (and people) with the frequency that he was, or tripping over things, or forgetting how to use his human body in various inconvenient ways. But will he be asking for help? Absolutely not.]

[ III | IC;9/22 | WARNING for eye gore in this prompt. Click here to skip directly to prompt IV. ]

[Something was wrong. That much was abundantly obvious. He - and everyone else, to his knowledge - had been going through periods of... wrongness, for lack of a more defined word. His sight flickered in and out, sometimes only briefly, sometimes for hours at a time. He became disoriented at the drop of a hat. He forgot important things, seemingly at random, only for the memories to come rushing back all at once without warning, his limbs occasionally refused to respond, as though they were not his own. Things Kashuu had been suffering since losing his eye and more. It was unsettling, and Yamato couldn't be blamed for being unable to think entirely rationally.

(Or, perhaps, the conclusion he kept coming to was perfectly logical for him, after all. Who could say?)

But now there was a static buzzing in the back of his eyes, ever-present and toeing the edge of painful but not quite crossing the line over. Yet. This couldn't possibly be a sign of improvement, so the question, now, was was it a herald of something worse to come, or simply a new symptom to toss onto the growing list? And could it be stopped?

There was one way to find out.

And so, Yamato found himself pacing the kitchen, sharp paring knife in hand as he considered his options. To wait and hope, or to not... and hope. But he's never been the sort to sit and do nothing when the means to do something, anything at all, lie in his hands, and so he chooses to act. Haori and scarf are removed, folded, set neatly aside to avoid bloodstaining, but that is the only precaution taken before he leans over the sink, steadying his hands by leaning on the countertop. It should be simple. A quick cut. Scraping. Gouging. Repeat. There would be pain, of course, but expected pain was never as awful as unexpected, and he was already running on adrenaline, besides.

It isn't as easy as it should have been. The cutting is easy, sure. The contents of his eye spilling down his face quick and hot is expected. But there's a metallic scraping that shouldn't be there, rooted in the back of his eye socket, and it takes several long, painful, panicked moments to pry out before it clatters to the sink in a puddle of blood and viscera. It looks, from what he can tell through the hazy vision of his remaining eye, to be a computer part of some sort. He never pretended to know about such things, and as to why there were some in his eyes, he hadn't the slightest clue. But they needed to be gone, now, consequence be damned.

The second eye goes similarly to the first, except this time the clattering of the chip to the sink is accompanied by the louder dropping of the knife, its work very much done.

Anyone who might stumble on the scene after the fact will be met with Yamato still leaning over the sink, heels of his hands pressed to his eyes (sockets, now), and looking for all the world as though he's just come home from a fight.]

[ IV | IC;9/23+ ]

[One minor oversight with a grand master plan like removing ocular implants is that one really should have some method of recovery planned out in advance. Yamato had no such thing, so at present, he's found himself blind, entirely, no fading in and out like before. And as if that wasn't troublesome enough, people keep leaving windows open (apparently), and it's raining out (apparently) intermittently. Someone really should do something about the puddles he keeps stepping in with socks on. And the puddles on the dojo floor. And in his futon.

Really, it's just super inconvenient, because it always kicks up again just when he thinks he's gotten dry. Of course. Such is the way with the world, right?

But of course he also doesn't quite realize he has a little raincloud all to himself, so he'll just. Keep raining on things. Possibly your things. Or you. It might be for the best to gently guide him outside as often as possible, really.]

Comments

[tsukainikui]

Oh...

[That was... possible? He didn't know, but to be fair, he hadn't thought to ask, either.]

I can. Maybe not as well as usual, but that is why I must train.

[He needs repairs. He knows he needs repairs, but Haru has been missing, and so he's stuck. Oops. He also knows that maybe asking Sayo to train with him wasn't the best idea, but if he's going to get good at fighting blind, then a quiet, speedy, ruthless little tantou sounds like the best bet to him.]