( open. ) someone kneels and prays / amongst the wisteria / silence tells of pain.

[skirm]

WHO: Wanderer and YOU.
WHAT: Urban Legend number ▊▊▊ "The Ghost of a Kabuki Dancer", friendly but perhaps aggressive sparring, among others.
WHERE: Akasaka's Hikawa Shrine, Greenhouse, Simulation Arena, Brimstone Hallway.
WHEN: Throughout the month of December.
WARNINGS: None as of now!



000 — 『藤娘』 FUJIMUSUME
TAKES PLACE SOMETIME AT NIGHT BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 00:00 TO 6:00 AT AKASAKA'S HIKAWA SHRINE

( hearsay has it that between midnight and sunrise, the faint sound of shamisen can be heard coming from a shrine far, far from lilith's base. no one knows when it starts or when it ends, for the time always varies, as though a performance not meant to be heard or seen. if one catches sight of it —

for the month of december, hikawa shrine is decorated with artificial wisteria. the vocals, shamisen and percussion seem almost pre-recorded, for they are; there's no ensemble or choir to be seen, and the only attraction is a performer at the center of a worn-out stage. adorned in a purple kimono equally decorated with wisteria, their face is slightly obscured by a silky, and just as purple katsugi that sits atop their head. the performance itself is breathtaking, almost as though done by something inhuman. a doll, or even a puppet, with its delicate and precise movements, yet with unfocused eyes, as though this performance, too, is automated.

if he catches sight of you watching him dance, however, the performance will come to a halt, together with the music. maybe he recognizes you from lilith's base, maybe you're even in the same team — whatever the reason, the mysterious performer looks none too pleased, angry almost. as though his privacy had been infringed upon. )

You shouldn't be here. Leave.

( ... or, if he does not, in fact, catch you watching his performance, you'll be one of the lucky few to have watched it in full. the performer bows to no one in particular, and begins to collect the few props used to bring them inside the shrine's storehouse. you may help him, if you wish, or approach him to speak of his performance. you may even simply sit back and watch him from afar, but whatever you decide to do — he will notice, eventually, and be none too happy about your presence there. )

001 — Chorus of Desert and Wood
MAIN BASE: GREENHOUSE — VARYING TIMES OF THE DAY

( sumeru's rainforests became something ever-similar to home, if he were to have one. calming, soothing, comforting. inazuma's have always been too gloomy for his taste, the suffocating air of electro a reminder of his origins. snezhnaya's, too frigid, lacking in foliage most of the time. sumeru's have spoiled him, for when wanderer visits the greenhouse for the first time, he finds the air... unsatisfying.

as though it's not real, as man-made as he is. his eyes narrow in dissatisfaction.

there are many plants he does not recognize, and in spite of the warnings not to touch them, wanderer does hold the leaves between his fingers. it would be fine, probably, immune to poison as he is, artificial as they are. the texture, too, isn't half as soft and moist as the trees and plants of sumeru. the homesickness this all provides him is exhausting. what's the point of missing something that isn't his, anyways?

wanderer clicks his tongue at his own annoyance, making way for one of the caretaker robots to walk past him. he spots, then, you, visiting the greenhouse for whatever reason. though it is not like wanderer to make small talk — )

Being here is pointless. What's the point of a greenhouse if none of these are real? How meaningless.

( ... can you tell he's in a bad mood. )

002 — (shouki no kami voice) Bow before me, worm!
MAIN BASE: SIMULATION ARENA

( though not much interests wanderer around lilith's main base or neo-tokyo in general, the simulation arena, at the very least, had caught his eye. he had used it once, before, on their first briefing and simulation trial. it had felt real enough, and though he does not speak much of how he decided to approach the situation, it stayed in the back of his mind.

he could use it for training, probably. to kill time. the other recruits should have strengths, abilities, skills and powers of their own, from different places, different worlds. though wanderer is hardly as obsessed with fighting and challenging others as a certain someone he knows... he's not against it, the thrill of a fight well fought.

the hows, whys and whens aren't necessary. what matters is that seok had granted him and his sparring mate entry into the simulation arena, and standing ways before his opponent, wanderer couldn't help but wield a grin all familiar to times of old, when he had a rank within a certain group, and a name to call himself. though he has changed considerably in certain areas, he is, unfortunately, still as arrogant as they come. )

There's still time to turn back and give up, you know. It'd be understandable if you did, and foolish if not. No worries, I won't tell anyone.

( the tone of his voice is clearly mocking. does wanderer look like he's any trustworthy like this? )

note: since fighting threads aren't everyone's cup of tea, we can try and handwave most if not all of it. i don't mind writing it out, and mind even less having wan-chan's ass be kicked!

003 — JUST MEOW MEOW
MAIN BASE: BRIMSTONE HALLWAY — VARYING TIMES OF THE DAY

( it hasn't taken too long for wanderer to adapt to the abrupt change from his daily life to... this. whatever this is. it's an overall different atmosphere, from the green life that embraced sumeru to a technology-packed city that reeked, for the most part, of something ever-similar to inazuma.

it has, however, been taking him a considerate amount of time to adapt to this: a room filled with cats that have been following him for what feels like days now. he has tried to scare them off - it didn't work. he has tried to give them bowls of food somewhere far - they found him, still. he has even flown high and far, to no avail. over and over the cats find him, and it'd be fine, really, it would. if they didn't yell so much. therefore, cue the situation:

wanderer, annoyed at their incessant yapping, locks them outside of his door. they scratch at it, five cats trying to fit next to each other as they meow meow meow. eventually he opens it, throws some cat food at the middle of the hallway, and closes his door. a couple of minutes later they return, and resume their yelling.

he only has so much patience for this much noise - cue, again, the way his door is thrown open. )

I'm not going to let you back in until you all shut up with your crying! Go elsewhere and leave me alone, dammit!

( ... yes, the 500ish years old puppet is arguing with five cats. what about it. )

004 — WILDCARD

feel free to write me a prompt if we've discussed anything, or even if not! this will be a general catch-all for december shenanigans, so anything goes!

Comments

001

[cranekin]

(The winter night is cold and still, the air sharp in a way that fills him with a familiar restlessness, and he finds himself drawn to the old shrines of the city late in the night when much of the city has gone to bed.

The sleepless city and its neverending brightness offer plenty of distraction but he finds himself drawn to the stillness of the old shrines. Maybe it's his nature as an old spirit, his brief history as a divine sword, or maybe it's just the music that draws him in like a siren's song in the night. He walks center of the stone walkway, the path reserved for kami, but he hardly looks like a kami now.

In modern clothes, simple but sharply dressed, a long, light gray winter coat, and a bright red scarf wrapped around his neck and lower face, he looks more like an ordinary person. He looks like "Adachi Rindou" instead of "Tsurumaru Kuninaga." Somehow, still, through this illusion he wears, his gold eyes are sharp and as he approaches the performance, studies it carefully.

Each move is perfect, from the way he holds his fingers to the way he carries his entire body. It's so carefully practiced and he thinks... it may even be better than his own perfectly practiced performances. Before he can really linger on it anymore, he's spotted, the music stops, and he withdraws his hands from his pockets and claps.)

Oh? Then why were you performing?

(Aren't these sorts of shows meant to call on the kami int he first place?)

[skirm]

( the question itself has no answer, and wanderer, the unnamed ghost of hikawa shrine, offers none as well - for he, after all, knows not what the answer is either. it comes with his nature as a divine creation, an archon's puppet, a being that lingers neither on the side of divinity nor on the side of humanity.

kabukimono had been his first name, after all, and he had found it fitting then. )

I don't owe you an answer.

( and he keeps it at that, using one of the loose sleeves of his katsugi to cover his face. it would be too much of a bother to be recognized, let alone from someone who clearly comes from lilith's base. do the people there know not of privacy? )

This shrine is not safe at this hour. ( this, for one, is a lie wanderer spills with ease, to scare away any who might enter. ) What brings you here?

[cranekin]

(He doesn't try to look. He's already stumbled onto someone's secret and that's enough for now. There's no reason for him to investigate any further so he stays in place, arms crossed in front of him for warmth, and content with the current level of discomfort in this conversation. This is fine. He doesn't have to do anything to make it more interesting for him. It's plenty already.)

It seems safe for now.

(He doesn't scare away easily.)

The new year is approaching. It's been a long time since I've had the chance to visit a shrine so I thought I would do some research.

(In the middle of the night. Yeah.)

Since you know so much about here, maybe you can tell me what you think!

[skirm]

( in the middle of the night... freak

wanderer watches, observes, judges what he's presented. it seems safe, he says, despite the rumors. visiting a shrine in the dead of the night. if he weren't the source of the building rumor, tsurumaru could easily have been it.

with only his eyes showing, they are enough to expose his feelings. annoyance, irritation, distrust. )

I don't have anything to say to you. ( ever unhelpful, but what is he to say, when wanderer himself has done so little study on this shrine?

it's abandoned, and far enough from lilith's base. the shrine is nice, despite its age. it's still full of dust and insects, with a small likelihood of anyone visiting. it'd be perfect, and yet. )

If you have come to research, you are capable of doing it yourself. You don't need my help.

[cranekin]

You don't? (His voice is a mix of disappointment and amusement. ) I thought a spirit would know more about its haunts.

(Lowly, almost sharply,)

Unless... the spirit hasn't been haunting for very long.

(And instantly brighter, back to making casual conversation,)

Well! Since you gave me a good show, I'll share what I know! (Head held up high, laughing lightly with clouds of white breath forming in the cold air,) Though, I'm more familiar with the shrines of the old capital...

[skirm]

( ???? this guy... it's fine if people don't believe the rumor, really. wanderer couldn't even pinpoint when it started at all - perhaps a local who had come to fool around at an abandoned shrine caught one of his performances, and thought, for sure, that he's a ghost, some kind of spirit. pale skin, precise movements, music that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere. it's not surprising. and yet -

and yet some people are wholly unphased over it. it's of no surprise that lilith wouldn't have chosen a coward to fight its fights. )

I didn't ask. ( but he has a feeling this guy will literally just keep talking. ) What makes you think this shrine is any similar to the ones you know?

[cranekin]

You could say... I have an interest.

(A vague answer but he isn't really going to share his story with just anyone he meets.

Crossing his arms in front of him, he starts to walk. Each step is deliberate and graceful as he approaches the stage, as if he were walking on an invisible beam towards the stage, coming closer, and closer,)

There are many shrines in the capital. Thousands. (And he holds out his arms, spread out wide as if to show off the area all around them. This would surely be more impressive if he were wearing his robe with it's long, white flowing sleeves but he makes do with what he has, ) But there are ten of significance.

(Ten fingers, fanned out in front of him for the Wanderer to see. Tsurumaru looks over them at his no doubt unwilling audience. )

The stories say each shrine is built on a strategic site as they both form a protective ring around the heart of the city. (And he turns his hands in a circle in front of him, lowering one finger at a time until both hands are closed and he pulls both hands apart as if opening a curtain, ) Even among the impressive towers of this era, each one still stands; quiet but resolute.

(If it isn't obvious enough, he's doing more than telling a story. He's performing it for the urban legend before him. Lacking robes, missing props, without any music, it doesn't stop him. The way he speaks, and the way he carries himself is that of a performer, and every move he makes is so naturally perfected from disciplined practice, that it may feel like he's done something like this before. For someone else. Somewhere else.)

Perhaps that's why the area within the ring still endures in this era.

(And now, he watches the legend in front of him carefully, studying him a little more closely from his new, closer distance. Only a few meters away but something far away in his eyes, modern in dress but plenty familiar with old stories...

And he smiles, dropping both arms at his side, tucking them into his pockets as his little performance comes to an end as suddenly as it began. Acting as if nothing had happened at all,)

Well, it's good to see the job is still being done. Mhm. (He nods,) And after such a show, I'm sure it will only grow stronger.

[skirm]

( it's really only so little that keeps them apart. all in all, the unwilling audience thinks, just as unwillingly, of inazuma and its many shrines. narukami might sit at its heart, with its unyielding tree and steadfast guuji, but maybe all of its shrines, across all its many islands, had been connected, too. narukami was, after all, at the highest point of inazuma, watching over its eternal nation.

the thought itself is sickening, and the resemblance continues to be uncanny. he had thought the air of neo-tokyo to be familiar in all the wrong ways, something that never agreed much with him. if whatever tsurumaru says is true - the shrines, how they protect the city, the area within it safe from the corrosion of the outside world, then...

wanderer lowers his hand, his mechanical indigo eyes never once straying from a figure that would have looked much like a ghost if clad in all white. )

How enlightening, then, that these shrines will keep the city safe, but care little for its state. ( hikawa, after all, is worn-down and abandoned. forgotten, only a memory of what it once might have been. the city itself might stand, but even inazuma, in all its putrid air that stinks of electro, bears at least some flora and fauna. at least there's life in it.

wanderer steps down from the stage, his bare feet feeling the cold and moist soil underneath but caring little for it. the performance is long over, and so is his stay. he is, after all, no ghost, no legend, no youkai. ) I don't perform to keep this place safe. In fact, I couldn't care less. And judging by the state of it, I don't think that protective ring cares much either.

[cranekin]

(There's something there. He can't make out what it is in the air but he can tell that something is lingering with the performer. He can only watch and smile dryly as the other makes his exit stage left.

He could say something. There are so many things he could say but every good performer knows how to read their audience. He can tell when it's time to pull the curtain down and so he merely dips his head in an acknowledging bow.)

Then I wonder why you perform...

(Of course, he doesn't expect an answer.)

Well then, you should go. I've heard this shrine isn't safe at this hour.

(He sure did just use the Wanderer's own words on him.)