Post by Yamauchi Tetsuma on Jan 18, 2013 13:32:10 GMT -5
(Open to all characters)
They were three.
"Yamauchi-senpai, what does it feel like, when--you know, cut someone down?" Noujin asked.
Shuusuke laughed and then interjected,
"You know when you're beating a wet blanket with a rod?--like that."
"If your sword is true, you feel nothing." Tetsuma put in.
Noujin pondered on this awhile, going as far to ignore the cute server as she came around to replace their sake cask with a fresh one. Noujin was a comely youth of fifteen, who now was a novice of the Hikinami-ryu, but most could see his potential and feared him. Tetsuma saw this and omitted nothing to him about the sword. Soon, Tetsuma knew, that he would be in a position of similar rank to his own, and would surpass him in skill.
Noujin, being the only with a blade, had previously pried open a foot-board with a tantou, an now poured the bottle of sake under the floor. They feigned drinking, pressing the empty cups to their lips, and continuing conversation,
"One hast to marvel at the beauties here, I'm sick of fisherman's wives and daughters. It makes for a weak release." Shuusuke said.
"The old master knows what is best; city samurai are soft, luxury is known to make a weak man." Tetsuma told.
Noujin nodded in affirmation.
"For example," Tetsuma cranned his ahead over to a table of three samurai.
Shuusuke avoided a lingered look, taking in their forms agilely. Three samurai dressed in flowery kimono's with the finest steel on their hips; over fed and regularly drunk. With Geisha's at their side, they seemed comfortable as one could be.
In start contrast to the pampered samurai, was Tetsuma's group, who now were dressed in common laborer's clothing. To strengthen this image, they smeared dirt on their face and forearms; they look like laborers.
Tetsuma found it most interesting how a wardrobe could change a man. When he walked in his clean Kimono, embroidered with the crest of the Hikinami, women were apt to look his way, but now, as if a lowly beggar, women only sneered.
The aforementioned, "pampered" samurai, rose taking their whore's to the back where they could enjoy their services.
"Now?" Noujin asked.
"No." Tetsuma told flatly.
"You'll get your chance." Shuusuke said.
They waited and poured more sake into the floor-boards. Tetsuma wondered why the samurai of the Buuhana-ryu would come to such a shabby tea-house, but it could have been a range of things: They prefered the women here, they drank for free, or maybe had a favorite dish on the menu--whatever it was, now became trivial.
"More?" The server asked as she came around.
"What is the full name of this place?" Noujin asked.
"The Soukata tea-house."
"You should get your sign fixed." Shuusuke said.
"We are in the process of repainting it."
A new customer came in and let the night in too.
They were three.
"Yamauchi-senpai, what does it feel like, when--you know, cut someone down?" Noujin asked.
Shuusuke laughed and then interjected,
"You know when you're beating a wet blanket with a rod?--like that."
"If your sword is true, you feel nothing." Tetsuma put in.
Noujin pondered on this awhile, going as far to ignore the cute server as she came around to replace their sake cask with a fresh one. Noujin was a comely youth of fifteen, who now was a novice of the Hikinami-ryu, but most could see his potential and feared him. Tetsuma saw this and omitted nothing to him about the sword. Soon, Tetsuma knew, that he would be in a position of similar rank to his own, and would surpass him in skill.
Noujin, being the only with a blade, had previously pried open a foot-board with a tantou, an now poured the bottle of sake under the floor. They feigned drinking, pressing the empty cups to their lips, and continuing conversation,
"One hast to marvel at the beauties here, I'm sick of fisherman's wives and daughters. It makes for a weak release." Shuusuke said.
"The old master knows what is best; city samurai are soft, luxury is known to make a weak man." Tetsuma told.
Noujin nodded in affirmation.
"For example," Tetsuma cranned his ahead over to a table of three samurai.
Shuusuke avoided a lingered look, taking in their forms agilely. Three samurai dressed in flowery kimono's with the finest steel on their hips; over fed and regularly drunk. With Geisha's at their side, they seemed comfortable as one could be.
In start contrast to the pampered samurai, was Tetsuma's group, who now were dressed in common laborer's clothing. To strengthen this image, they smeared dirt on their face and forearms; they look like laborers.
Tetsuma found it most interesting how a wardrobe could change a man. When he walked in his clean Kimono, embroidered with the crest of the Hikinami, women were apt to look his way, but now, as if a lowly beggar, women only sneered.
The aforementioned, "pampered" samurai, rose taking their whore's to the back where they could enjoy their services.
"Now?" Noujin asked.
"No." Tetsuma told flatly.
"You'll get your chance." Shuusuke said.
They waited and poured more sake into the floor-boards. Tetsuma wondered why the samurai of the Buuhana-ryu would come to such a shabby tea-house, but it could have been a range of things: They prefered the women here, they drank for free, or maybe had a favorite dish on the menu--whatever it was, now became trivial.
"More?" The server asked as she came around.
"What is the full name of this place?" Noujin asked.
"The Soukata tea-house."
"You should get your sign fixed." Shuusuke said.
"We are in the process of repainting it."
A new customer came in and let the night in too.
