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« intro ⇢ winterball.exe »
Who: everyone, literally everyone
When: ooc: 04/25-04/26; ic: 12/26
Where: the Gardens
What: intro log + winter ball!
Rating/Warning: PG-13 | possibly nsfw (please let me know if you need this rating changed, or you are welcome to continue any naughty shenanigans in a private log)
When: ooc: 04/25-04/26; ic: 12/26
Where: the Gardens
What: intro log + winter ball!
Rating/Warning: PG-13 | possibly nsfw (please let me know if you need this rating changed, or you are welcome to continue any naughty shenanigans in a private log)
//winterball.EXE
 A few weeks prior to December 26th, an invitation went out to all whom already reside in Cerealia. In delicate, curling script, it read: You are cordially invited by Natalia L.K. Lanvaldear to a Winter Ball to be held on the Eve of December 26th in the Gardens. Dress in your best attire and enjoy a magical evening of dance and fine cuisine. What do you mean we should fuss about worlds being destroyed? Get into the holiday spirit, you scrooge! And in regards to the new-comers: whether you have been wandering Cerealia over the course of the past few days and managed to receive one of the later waves of invitations or have simply suddenly appeared in the gardens with nothing but the (hopefully…. appropriate….) clothes on your back, welcome. The gardens have been transformed through the work of
|
//SCENARIOS.EXE
PHASE I [ xx PHASE II [ xx PHASE III [ xx PHASE IV [ xx BONUS [ why[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with trigger-y or inappropriate material and do let me know (through FAQ comment or PM preferably!) if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so I can lock the log. ] |
xx ] Like any respectable ball, your entrance is announced as you walk right into the party! What do you mean you wanted to slip in unnoticed? That simply won’t do. Natalia managed to rope in someone – is that a Tellus native? – to do the honor of acknowledging your character as they make their debut to the ball. This guy is under strict orders to not miss a single soul. If your character doesn’t give him a name and title ahead of time, then he’ll just make something up. Think along the lines of Broseidon McSnootyname, Duke of Erectile Dysfunction-- What do you mean that’s not your name?//RUN.EXE
Welcome to CEREALIA's latest intro post! This one is player-run and all the basics have been laid out for you here. Absolutely feel free to come up with your own prompts, I just attempted to set the scenery! For your convenience, I whole-heartedly welcome questions and inquiries being directed to my attention here and I'll answer them to the best of my ability! |
STARES DIRECTLY INTO THE SUN
Instead, pride is the smallest sliver of emotion that he feels. Most of the larger ones are ugly: regret, guilt, bitterness. His struggles to be beautiful and loved on his second chance still won't make up for the failures of his first, and even though he had hoped he could erase that blemish from his past somehow through this strange version of reconciliation, he's realizing now that that's far from possible. That's a tough pill to swallow. No matter how beautiful he can become, his past will always contain "the sword that broke at Ikedaya". A sword that just wasn't quite enough.
But it's not all negative, even if there's much more of it than he had expected. Hearing that still fills him with a sense of validation. His face is being touched by a hand that should have never been able to hold him again - which is what he does, after a couple of seconds. His own finally rise from his sides, resting over the backs of Souji's, and it's like he's been transported to those early days when all he wanted was to be wielded in battle or training by this unfathomably talented warrior. He wants to reciprocate appropriately. If he could just crow and reassure Souji that yes, yes he is beautiful, and he'll continue to be, then surely he'll be able to banish some of these darker sentiments. Surely he would be able to feel like he's standing on stable ground again.
Instead, he opens his mouth to speak and the only sound that comes out is an unpleasant choking noise. His cheeks flush with embarrassment when he realizes that his eyes are already wet, too, and he can only thank the Cerealian overlords that he had discovered waterproof mascara in time for this mess.
But what awful timing for an ugly cry.
Ugh.]
laughs hollowly as I sweep my heart up off the floor
But again he hears the brief screech and crack of metal as both Tetsu's new swords slam into the blade at once. The sword had already seen a tough battle by then, and Yoshida was wounded, probably unwisely leaned his body's weight right on the blade as he attempted to shield himself. Tetsu had been strong with adrenaline and a willingness to die if he must.
It had been a loss he truly mourned, once he knew the boy was safe and once the dull terror of the tiny specks of blood in his hand had faded sufficiently. He'd tried to get Kashuu repaired, but what could you do when the tip of a sword had been broken clean off?
It dawns on him now, that painful as the loss had been to him, how must it have felt for Kashuu? He doesn't know the particulars of how it happened to him, but he's certain now that it must still have happened. Souji had thought that the sword's spirit was gone, dead, once it was irrevocably broken, and had treated the broken blade like a corpse. Now he can see the clear evidence in front of him that this is untrue, he's immediately filled with regret.
Making a soft little noise full of concern, he first gently brushes the tears off the sword's face his fingers, just as he had done for Tetsu, and then once more wraps his arms around him and holds him. One hand slowly stroking his back, trying to soothe and to repair what he knows he can't.]
I'm sorry. [For making Kashuu cry, for his thoughtlessness, for abandoning him when he had served his duty so well.] I'm so sorry.
adds mine to the same dustpan
He's certainly not keeping an eye on the time, but it feels like literal hours before he manages to go from biting his lip for the sake of silence and only having soft, shuddering breaths left. Couldn't have been more than a minute, really, but he's already exhausted, and he doesn't particularly feel like pulling away. His face is likely a mess - who would want to be seen like that after being told they were beautiful?
So he just holds on, quiet as can be, for a little longer. That should be fine, right? Just long enough for him to catch his breath and at least try to sound a little better off than he feels. A joke, maybe? Something to help him catch his balance and to try shrugging the hurt off with. A watery-sounding laugh, and then:]
You can't just follow up a compliment with an apology like that.
[But it's no good. He'll have to speak very softly, or risk his voice cracking. His gaze remains averted, downcast, and small trembles wrack his frame, but he's trying to be presentable.]
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At least he does manage a soft little laugh in response to Kashuu's words, and his smile returns little by little, even if he's still rather obviously concerned. He leans back a fraction once more, this time using the sleeve of his kimono to dry away more tears, every touch soft and careful. He doesn't really see a mess, doesn't see the reddened eyes or the slight bruising from where Kashuu has been biting his lip, because Souji has never been the kind of person who gets hung up on details like that. Even when people have their faces twisted up with emotion, they can be very beautiful - because passion in itself has its own kind of beauty, doesn't it?]
I think you're supposed to apologize for making someone you care about cry - but I can give you more compliments later if that makes up for it.
[He knows very well that light, teasing words are somewhat better for mending what's broken, than any amount of heavy and important ones. Both have their place, but... he knows all too well how important it can be to try to smooth over a situation like this.
Not letting go of him, but shifting slightly so that he can loop one arm a bit more firmly around Kashuu's waist, he inclines his head toward one of the padded benches lining the room.]
Let's sit down a bit, shall we? [Because Kashuu looks tired and honestly Souji feels a bit weak with the aftermath of the shock as well. And he can imagine that the sword spirit doesn't much enjoy standing around so publicly while he's still struggling with his emotions like this.]
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Okay.
[A somewhat stuffy-sounding mumble, but Kashuu will let himself be led off wherever Souji wants to go. Once they get to the seat, he plops down pretty much immediately and just puts his face into his hands for a few seconds because he really needs to collect himself. This is embarrassing and even if Souji doesn't see the mess, it still makes Kashuu feel self-conscious and less than worthy.
When he does finally pull his hands away, he couldn't say that he feels any better. But there's not much he can do for it - he needs to take some time later, when he's alone, to process everything. For now, it'll just have to be set aside.]
A couple days ago, someone said "be prepared for anything" or something like that. [Another laugh - a little less watery, but no less wry.] I guess I wasn't.
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He keeps one hand lightly on the other's back, as if separation would be tantamount to... what? Loss, perhaps, or abandonment - again. That thought trickles like fire down his throat, settling his his lungs as a reminder of the sorry state they're in even now. The terror of weakening, of feeling the fever sapping his strength and the cough slowly eating away at his endurance, knowing where it would all end. He'd be weak, and the promise that was once given to him, of always being needed... well, if he couldn't uphold his end of it, it wasn't much of a promise, was it?
The terror of no longer being of use, of being sent away, of being looked at with pity rather than pride... that nightmare still haunts him. Of course he can recognize it in someone else. And in a way, it's his fault.]
I think there are some things that nothing can prepare us for. [He lets out a small laugh as well, warm and with just a hint of echoing wryness to it.] Especially since I hardly gave you much time to ready yourself. I was just so... excited to see you. Another sword spirit told me of you, and I guess I was really hoping- [He shakes his head with a sheepish little grimace.] But I could have gone about it better.
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He gets himself under control much faster this time. One, two beats of hesitation, and then:]
You were hoping to see me?
[In turn, there seems to be some hopefulness in his voice too. It isn't as though his own Souji had ever given him reason to believe that he was unwanted, per se, but that's the immediate conclusion that's drawn when one is discarded. He had simply outlived his usefulness as a weapon, and a broken sword doesn't have any place at a warrior's side.
Still, a part of him had hoped that he would remain irreplaceable even so.]
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He nods in response to the question, trying to pour encouragement and affection and truth into that smile.]
I was asked about my swords, and told- I was told that they loved me. It was- [He doesn't even know how to describe the feeling, so he quietly shakes his head, wonder making his breath tremble as he slowly exhales.] Of course I wanted to see you, Kashuu Kiyomitsu. I don't know of a single true warrior who doesn't love his swords, and to have the chance to actually meet you, talk to you, tell you that I do... it's an honor, you know.
[He moved his hand from Kashuu's back, but only so he could lace their fingers together instead, his heart aching just a bit with the sincerity of his words, his smile.] And now I realize that it wasn't the only thing I ought to tell you.
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On the other hand, it's incredibly difficult to just let go of feeling unwanted. Even though he's hearing everything he could ever want to hear, it doesn't magically erase the niggling doubt in his mind. He hates that. It scares him and makes him wonder if it's a feeling that will ever go away, and the thought of living with it forever is far from pleasant. His grip tightens. He shakes his head and then leans forward, like a flower to the sun.]
S'fine - you already said what I wanted to hear most.
[He doesn't really need anything along the lines of an apology or regretful feelings voice aloud, does he? After all, it hadn't been Souji's fault that he had broken. As a sword, he had one job: to serve his master. If there's a failing like his, it lies with the blade and not the hand that wields it. He may harbor an intense bitterness, and sometimes it might have manifested in harsh words about the man who had once wielded him, but it was always more largely rooted in self-loathing than any outward-facing target.
So an apology... he's never felt a need for it. He just wants reassurance - to hear things like "I wanted to see you" and "it's an honor" and maybe "I still need you", if he's very lucky.]
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[He truly does understand, he realizes. There have been too many unspoken apologies during the course of his life, too much guilt written on Hijikata's face, the perceived burden of having made Souji into what he is today. But he'd never wanted those apologies, had never needed them, because it just wasn't true. Souji had always been... faulty, flawed, not properly human. All Hijikata had done was make sure he would always have a place where he was wanted, and the reassurance that this still held true has always been the only thing in the world that matters to him.
Not that he thinks of Kashuu as faulty, as any lesser than any other sword, and he doesn't think himself blameless. But apologies won't actually change anything. Reassurance and love can, and hopefully it will.
He sighs and slumps a bit, simply leaning himself against Kashuu's shoulder, and for once there is no rage against a body which feels unnaturally weak. For a moment or two, he can allow himself to lend strength from the other, because he knows that means something. To be the one holding up someone you love is everything, really.]
You know I broke that night too, right? Or, well, started to. So we're pretty alike.
[...He hadn't meant to say that aloud, but he can't exactly take it back. So he just sighs and squeezes Kashuu's hand a bit tighter.]
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...I heard.
[It had been bizarre, surreal, but not surprising. Even though Yamato was the one by Souji's side through that ordeal, he hadn't been unaware of the deterioration of his master's body.
But he's already delved into such deep and painfully exhausting emotions tonight that he takes this as an opportunity to give himself a break, and to get something important out of the way at the same time.]
Hey... Yamato's not here right now. [Yamato no Kami Yasusada, but Kashuu assumes Souji will probably understand who he's talking about right away.] He's not here, but he was there with you when I couldn't be, y'know? In our world, anyway.
[Had he been jealous? A little, maybe - maybe more than a little if he gave himself the time to dwell, but he had focused instead on moving forward and on patching that hole with the affection of as many people as he could get it from. He's not dwelling on that now, though; he's just... well, he's actually not sure what he's doing, honestly. Giving Souji a heads up? Trying to make things easier for both of them when Yamato inevitably shows? (And as far as he's concerned, it's a definite inevitability). Maybe it's just selfishness, and he'll be trying to grab Souji's attention back with equal selfishness in the next second. He's still too frazzled to be able to walk in a metaphorically straight line.]
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The point is that right now, he really needs to be supported.
He nods slowly as Kashuu speaks, trying to imagine what his other sword might be like, but coming up with nothing because how can you conceptualize a part of yourself as separate? Yamato no Kami Yasusada, the actual physical blade, is here with him right now. But that's not the same thing, and he can't help wishing that he'll come here too.] You were there before and he was there after. I owe you both parts of my life - I'm sorry for his sake that the part of my life he inherited has been so... difficult.
But there's nothing that changes how important you two were, you know. Only how well I handled it, really.
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But Kashuu, always attentive to wording, has one question first and foremost:]
Can we still be important?
["Can I still be important?" Even if this isn't the Okita Souji he knew all those years ago, he's still Okita Souji.
Somewhat hesitantly, he adds:]
I can fight again, so... [He starts a little, like he's remembering something, and moves to reach for the blade at his side. He probably shouldn't be unsheathing a sword at a party but?! HERE HE GOES ANYWAY.]
Look— See?
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Kashuu Kiyomitsu, as beautiful and untouched as the day Souji first held the blade in his hands, not so much as a trace of the break left behind. Suddenly it feels like only yesterday, proudly lifting the blade and testing its weight in his hand, feeling it become his hand, an extension of himself as a warrior. His hand traces the sword back to the hilt, curling around Kashuu's own hand as he holds it. In his mind, he can hear Kondou laughing fondly, saying that he can already tell that it's a great match; Hijikata snorting quietly, muttering something about how it figures that he'd get a sword that seems as contrary as he is.
He looks up at Kashuu, his eyes hectically bright as he nods, squeezing his hand hard.]
You are important. And if ever there should be a need to do so here, I- it would be an honor to fight by your side.
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But he can't just keep tearing up and being embarrassing, right? So he looks up from their hands and he smiles. Surprisingly, it comes to him much more easily than he felt like it would.]
I'll hold you to that, okay? So... please take good care of me.
[His customary greeting, but without any of the exuberance and haughtiness and put-on arrogance that he normally displays. There's no accusation in it either - no attempt at guilting; just the quiet hope that, at least in part, he can be a good sword for this man once more.]
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Souji really needs things to fight for.]
I'll do my best! [Suddenly letting out a playful little laugh, he pulls one of the glittering snowflake pins out of his own hair and gently attaches it to Kashuu's, where it shines like a tiny star.] There! Now it's an official promise. No taking back.
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—It's for me?
[As much as he claims he's looking for people to adorn him and dress him well, it can still sometimes come as a surprise when it actually happens.]
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Of course. It's just a small thing, really, but I thought... it could be like a reminder.
[He lets out an embarrassed little laugh, knowing that he's not always the most graceful in social situations, but from what he can tell, Kashuu is happy. He makes a mental note of that. Clearly more gifts are in order later, when they're both not quite so emotional about... well, everything.]
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At the explanation behind the gifting, there's another smile, this one a little more fleeting but also softer. He really is touched... But he's not one to gush or get mushy, so instead of the heartfelt thanks his expression conveys, he just says:]
Is it cute?
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Kashuu rather looks like someone who is very careful about his appearance, wearing such vibrant color and with those beautifully painted nails. Souji... has never cared all that much about such things, although he will admit to consciously presenting himself in rather feminine colors and keeping his hair the way it is because he knows that it's appreciated. The things he's wearing right now were rather inspired by the way Trucy and Pearl had talked about the ball; he'd picked what he thought looked cute and hoped for the best. So in general he's rather lost on the sea of fashion opinions, but he certainly doesn't hesitate right now.]
Really cute! [An amused little hum.] It definitely looks better on you than on me.
no subject