燭台切光忠 † shokudaikiri "melonslasher" mitsutada (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
candlecutterpikachu) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
estoria2015-04-23 08:09 pm
candlecutterpikachu) wrote in estoria2015-04-23 08:09 pm
001
Who: Mitsutada (candlecutterpikachu) and you!
When: ICly 12/23 - 12/24
Where: ViViD centre, all around Cerealia
What: Dumb chuuni sword doing dumb things. Also, gratuitous amounts of 'cool' sprinkled over everything.
Rating/Warning: None yet, will edit as needed!
candlecutterpikachu) and you! When: ICly 12/23 - 12/24
Where: ViViD centre, all around Cerealia
What: Dumb chuuni sword doing dumb things. Also, gratuitous amounts of 'cool' sprinkled over everything.
Rating/Warning: None yet, will edit as needed!
a; - shiny sword not actually looking for an owner (12/23)
[ Being a sword spirit has its benefits.
Firstly, you get a backup life of sorts. Even if your human form gets wrecked to literal pieces, you will be fine as long as your true form stays intact. Sure, it takes time to regenerate all that spiritual energy, but it is doable. Secondly, you don't age, and can live millennia if the circumstances are right. As long as you aren't broken, of course... which apparently is what had happened for the second time. Because, yknow, his world is supposedly gone. Which he isn't going to think about right now, not only because it means he failed in his purpose a second time, but also because one can't really process things very quickly if they have been reverted back to an inanimate object.
(Of course, he still thinks it's all just some strange dream. Everything that they fought for can't be gone just like this.)
You see, the problem with having a weapon as a true form is that sometimes code retrievers don't quite finish the job. Sure, he passed the introductory ViViD level without difficulty - but that was in his human form, which is ultimately temporary. Which means they didn't render it when it comes to actually letting him out into the colony.
The end result is that a sword has somehow ended up slotted between two cushions on one of the ViViD centre's lounge sofas. An attendant had stared at it inside the terminal for a good few minutes before deciding that the booth should be vacated as soon as possible - thus the sword being chucked out and jammed it into the seats, perhaps under some assumption that its owner would come by to pick it up. But it has been quite some time since it was placed there - if only for the very simple reason that the person in question is the sword itself.
To the untrained eye, the sword is a very well-kept one, polished until it shines with the cold brilliance of steel. To the trained eye, the sword would be quite the work of art, hilt and guard forged in an archaic style perhaps centuries past. And to the spiritually-sensitive eye, it would also carry the ethereal quality of having something possibly superimposed over its form.
Still, it is a very shiny (and expensive) sword. Will you claim it for yourself, or pick it up just to see if it is real? ]
b; - tin cans are not friends (12/23)
[ It took some time - a good amount of time, in fact - but he did eventually learn what had happened. (Or, as he would put it, what they told everyone had happened.) It's still a lot to absorb all at once, especially given that the purpose of his second life is to protect his world from those that were threatening to destroy it - but he supposes its not something he can change immediately. So into the backburner it goes, the thought crumpled up and tossed aside into a metaphorical wastepaper basket for perusal a long, long time later.
With that out of the way, more pressing issues begin to surface. Sure, he had been given money and a room (awfully nice of them, he thinks), but that money isn't going to last forever. The Saniwa never charged them, but this place would - so he needed to earn his keep.
You might find him perusing notices tacked into lampposts and walls, or lingering outside shops to read their displays. If there is a job board setup anywhere, he will be taking down notes with good 'ol pen and paper from the ViViD centre.
If you look mostly human and happen to remain in his vicinity for some amount of time, he would be sliding over before lowering his voice to address you - as how one might have a hushed conversation in the vicinity of a particularly large lion. ]
Hey. Do you know what that is?
[ 'That', being the innocuous-looking cleaning droid puttering away on the nearby pavement. It doesn't look suspicious, but the way he squints subtly seems to suggest otherwise. ]
c; - accidental melon ambushes (12/24)
[ Honestly, it's almost refreshing to start on simple chores like these. He still doesn't want to think about what happened the previous day, and there is work to be done - after catching up with the two Samonjis here, he had fallen back into some semblance of old routine. Cleaning, tidying and cooking, what he has always done for the others - but before he can do the third, he needs to buy ingredients first.
So here he is inside one of the neighborhood supermarkets, inspecting vegetables with the close scrutiny of a kitchen veteran. He keeps up a faint running monologue under his breath, muttering some form of commentary about the things that he comes across. He makes a pass on the not-quite-potatoes and bizarrely coloured spinach, picks a bit at the ten billion varieties of cheese, before ending up in front of a shelf full of fruits.
Rather unfortunately for him, one of the attendant droids seems to have caught on to his voiced thought about melons, and tries to bring one over from a shelf. Except its wheels get caught on one of the displays, and the melon goes flying -
- he draws in a flash, sensing the round projectile as it enters his field of vision - and the fruit is cleanly bisected, both halves sliding along the floor with varying proportions of pulp in tow.
Whoops.
If it isn't already evident by the look of sheer horror rapidly spreading across his face, this is something beyond embarrassing.
It is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, something uncool.
Hopefully the fruit didn't splatter you when it made its landing. Will you: ]
> Leave the guy with the eyepatch be for now while he tries to grapple with his terrible mistake
> Laugh
> Stare
> Demand compensation
> Attempt to steal the bisected melon
> Attempt to steal the shopping basket (why)
> Attempt to steal the sword (WHY)
> ???
d; - choose your own adventure
[ Throw me anything and I'll roll with it! ]
no subject
Yes. [ Sort of. ] Could I have that back?
[ There is a lot of hope he puts into the other saying yes, because if not he would run a very high risk of being incapacitated or worse. His singular gaze darts briefly to one side, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings and looking for anything he could possibly use just in case. ]
no subject
[There's no point in kicking up a fuss about it. He'd only been curious, anyway, so with a polite smile, he offers the sword back to him.]
Most samurai don't just leave their swords lying about. Did something happen?
[He can only assume that there must have been a good reason for doing so! Mitsutada doesn't exactly look like a careless guy.]
no subject
He takes his sword self from Takasugi with a grateful nod, belting it safely to his waist. It feels tons better with his true body back at his side again - at least he can be sure that it will be safe.
But the other called him a samurai, didn't he? That made things a little more complicated. ]
- ah, I'm no samurai.
[ And then it fully hits him that he isn't quite back at the Citadel anymore - and with that... weird dream he just had... ]
Hang on. Where are we?
no subject
But Takasugi is polite enough—he gives Mitsutada's question priority over his own.]
Good question. [He glances around, giving the place another quick look-over, but he doesn't see anything that might change his idea of what this place actually is.] It looks like some kind of game center.
[...of course, it's probably a little odd that he could give that kind of answer at all. Even judging from his appearance alone, Takasugi was definitely a samurai.]
no subject
Those words don't mean much to Mitsutada at all, and won't mean anything - if not for the fact that he has heard them just less than an hour before. From the eerie voiceover that came at the end of that ViViD stage. So, if this poor man was also subjected to the same lying tirade... ]
Hey, did you get ejected out of some... simulation? [ He manages not to stumble over the foreign word's edges - but just. ] The one where they - show you some sort of words on cards?
[ He still isn't going to voice exactly what is on his mind, because the very fact of saying it makes him uncomfortable.
It can't be true. Not in a million, billion years. ]
no subject
[There's a short but thoughtful pause as he reaches into his kimono for his pipe. Right where he left it.]
I wonder if what they told us is true.
[Takasugi wasn't really someone who just believed everything he was told, but... Well, he was kind of in an odd position. To be holding a sword that had very recently been crushed to pieces, to even be conscious when he'd just been bloody and beaten... It was a little too strange to just ignore.]
no subject
[ His answer comes quickly - perhaps too quickly, accompanied by a flash of abrupt seriousness in his expression - but that is swiftly swept away and replaced by a measure of his usual relaxed countenance. ]
Until they have proof, it's fake.
[ That's exactly how he's going to deal with it. Because he is not going to think about the repercussions if it was, by the most marginal of chances, true. So he just quickly changes the subject. ]
Are you a samurai, by the way?
no subject
Though, at the same time... Well, it's not like he was happy with it, either. Something about it felt sort of unsatisfying, somehow.
But these are thoughts that he hasn't quite sorted out himself yet, so he allows Mitsutada to change the subject without argument.]
Something like that. [Maybe not quite so honorable, but he was a warrior, at the very least.] It seems like there aren't quite so many of us left anymore.