Shiro sano Ken Hayai [Open RP]

[Saiko]

Saiko's brow furrowed, his gaze falling to the ground at Takezo's words. He sipped his tea in silence for a moment as his former Champion's words sank in, and he seemed to come to a complete stillness as he sat in his quiet contemplation. Another sip of his tea was the only break in this, and he returned his gaze to the eyes of Takezo.

"You are right, Takezo-dono, and I am only now realizing it. I am not ready to face him again, not yet, and I may never be. I was so convinced that I had to fight him that it blinded me from the fact that I was not ready to do so." His eyes clouded for a moment, though it seemed to be more from a deep sorrow than the anger that had been there only a few minutes ago. "I need to reflect upon my mistakes, and when this war is over, travel home."

Saiko grew distant at this remark, instantly going somewhere deep within himself, his eyes dark and deep, like pools of liquid jade, though he still finished his cup of tea. He reached for his bag, and produced a katana sheathed in dark ebony, though otherwise plain and unadorned but for the embossed black iron Dragon mon upon the saya. He produced a blade of a similar darkness, and he held it before Takezo with a combination of reverence and distrust.

"I was given this, from an anonymous benefactor who knew of my journey to hunt Shoju. Never before had I held an obsidian katana, and still I am hesitant to say it is my blade. I need something forged in the mountains, a blade connecting me to home, or I feel I will lose my way once again." He resheathed the blade and tucked it back into his bedrolls, almost hesitantly, as though by reflex it was almost tucked into his obi.

"I fear that home, and the end of this war, are further away than I would like, alas.

[Hida Joji]

“This must be Jogoku!” – Joji is surrounded by corpses, fire and explosions. The air is raging about him as the spirits of Fire join those of Air and Earth turning each breath into agony. A helpful gust of wind clears his view enough for him to see he is surrounded by the Dragon vanguard. The Dragon final push passed him and he is now behind enemy lines hidden by the camp fortifications.

“We lost. We lost. We lost. We lost. I will live, this cannot be the end.” – Joji looks around at the small camp fortification he is hiding in looking for anything of use. This particular spot was fought over by a Kensai leading a small unit of spearman and a group of Deathseekers. Everyone died, the Kensai killing a couple of Lion even as he was pierced by their Yari.

“The Shogun needs my strength!” – Joji thinks as he puts on the Kensai’s Helmet, Sashimono and picks up his blades, leaving his tetsubo.

Leaving the structure he joins the pursuit trusting his colors and double blades to make him a friend. Outpacing the pursuit he drops the borrowed colors and joins his own forces.
“Luck of the dammed indeed.” – Joji thinks as he enters Kaneka’s camp.

[Takezo]

Apr 17, 2012 22:11:59 GMT -5 Saiko said:

...

"I was given this, from an anonymous benefactor who knew of my journey to hunt Shoju. Never before had I held an obsidian katana, and still I am hesitant to say it is my blade. I need something forged in the mountains, a blade connecting me to home, or I feel I will lose my way once again." He resheathed the blade and tucked it back into his bedrolls, almost hesitantly, as though by reflex it was almost tucked into his obi.

"I fear that home, and the end of this war, are further away than I would like, alas.

“A beautiful katana, even if it would conventionally be regarded as an evil blade. I would venture that the benefactor, while he may be unknown to you, is hardly anonymous. I am sure he or she… or it… is someone highly involved or interested in your fate.”

Takezo hefts his own katana. The blade, just sharpened, glitters in the alchemical light. The hilt itself is devoid of ornamentation, a testament to practicality. It is a battlefield weapon.

“You are right to prefer a steel blade. The flexibility of the steel not only improves the strength of the blade, but it makes its balance. A mineral sword is like an arm without an elbow; it is stiff, and never as graceful as a steel blade. I have so many swords – in my days of great status, I was gifted blades by every great swordsmith in the land, from every family and clan. For all their foppery, the kakita blades still can’t be beat.”

Takezo resheaths his blade.

“I have a crystal katana. I don’t say I own it, as I own my other blades, but I do have it in my possession. I’ve used it, rarely, but it is always its own thing. My kakita, it’s a part of me; when I duel, it is simply a protuberance of my soul which happens to emit from my hand. I trust it utterly. I command it. The crystal blade, that I merely rely upon. It’s an ally, certainly, but it’s not me.

The fact is, these elemental blades, while you may “have” them, are never yours. They serve their element, and are extensions of another intelligence, one with purposes and plans we cannot fathom. You may have been given that obsidian blade, but it is not yours – in this, I hold your “benefactor” suspect. One may as well claim to “have” a Dragon’s tooth; it may serve you as a weapon, but you will find it does so only as you work toward the same purpose – ITS purpose. That obsidian blade has you as much as you have it – be mindful of this. From the blade’s perspective – and I assure you, it has one – YOU were given to IT.

After all, a blade has use of a willing hand.”

Takezo looks into his cup, and tosses the dregs of tea into the fire in an instant of hissing evaporation.

“We never own the elements. We may impose our will upon them – we toss water into a fire – but they evade us. Water becomes steam, for example. At best, they pass through us, and if we are very clever, or very willful, we may divert their purpose to our intent. But they are never ours. If we are a very, very good vessel, we may even become their Oracle, their machine of purpose among men, but as all men are beholden to the elements, the Oracle is their utter slave.

Takezo looks very intently at Saiko.

“Be mindful of this”.

“To possess such a sword, still, is an honor that cannot be understated. Still, it is but a tool, and the wise bushi divines its purpose, and finds a way to match its with his. Still, I think a simple, new Mirumoto blade of steel sounds like a fine idea…”

Takezo grins:

“… or maybe a sturdy Kaiu if you’re going to keep going after weapon-breakers.”

[Saiko]

Saiko grinned, despite himself, and pulled a short, black pipe of gaijin origin from the folds of his cloak, packing it with a pungent black tobacco before lighting it with a twig from the fire, and the aroma of cloves and cinnamon filled the air as he exhaled a great sigh of contentment.

"As pleasant a turn of fortune as that would be, my allies among the Crab are few and far between these days. A blade forged in the mountains seems best." He offered the pipe to Takezo before he reached into his cloak once more, though this time his hand returned bearing a bottle of sake, bare except for the wax Dragon mon that sealed the top.

Saiko quickly opened it and took a deep swig from the bottle, seeming far more comfortable and more like a soldier than he had when he first arrived; most certainly more at peace. "A strong, dark brew that an old friend of mine in Shiro Tamori makes, and as he only gives out ten bottles a year, I find myself fortunate that I receive two of them. Thus, they are saved for a very special occasion. This is my last bottle, the first I drank after the fall of Toshi Ranbo. Will you do me the honor of sharing this sake, Takezo-dono?"

He held the bottle out before him, his eyes seeming genuinely friendly for the first time in many, many weeks.

[Akodo Sosa]

(huge apologies for the delay - I've been working away from home and had no internet access)

Sosa weighed up his opponent for what seemed a lifetime. It was obvious this 'ninja' had swift reactions and speed on his side, but it was also obvious that he was no used to wearing armour, or at least the armour he was now in. That would be to his disadvantage. He seemed also focused on attack and not defense. Though he left his lower body open it was too blatant an invitation to Sosa's mind. Undoubtedly this 'ninja' had offensive power, but did he have stamina. Sosa remained in his defensive stance. This was a confrontation he would weather to come out victorious.

He smiled as he heard the warcry of Matsu Mina from behind him. At least he would not have to worry about being outflanked. She could deal with the other assailants.

"You are a guest in the Lion camp, friend-san. Perhaps you would like the first move".

Sosa prepared himself for a block. As he did so he momentarily became aware of the destruction that had developed around him. Time had become meaningless in the face-off between the two duellists; what had seemed like seconds must in reality have been minutes if not more.

"Hmm", thought Sosa to himself, "I'd better not take too long over this". Then the surroundings faded once again, adn the whole world became only Sosa and his opponent.

[Isawa Mitsuru]

Odama sprung forward at his Lion opponent. Clearly, neither of them intended to allow the other an easy victory. Although they were in the middle of what was now a battlefield, Odama had successfully duped this commander into separating himself from his troops by forcing him to comply with standard 'honorable' practices.

Odama thrust toward the commander but did so at a wide angle. In this single tempo, his intention was to change the line of the fight. He swung his sword to his right and then brought it sidelong towards his opponent’s shoulder. The shining blade disappeared for a moment as it changed angle and reflected a new source of light. Odama was making for a solid strike and was prepared for his opponent’s response.

[Akodo Sosa]

Sosa had been ready for a sudden movement. He moved back, turning slightly in order to bring up his blade in a block. As soon as he heard and felt the impact of steel on steel, he twisted the angle of his own blade, aiming to send the ninja's katana in an upward motion, out of the way and possibly leaving his side open. Sosa would be suprised if such a basic move would work on his opponent, but the other's disadvantage with the armour might mean it would.

[Isawa Mitsuru]

Most certainly, the Lion was advantaged in strength between the two. As his blade caught Odama's the two swords moved upwards, locking out any overhead strikes the Odama might be prepared to make.

If you cannot enter through the door, make your way to the window.

Odama changed the force of his grip from his blade to his handle. Using Sosa's own blade as a fulcrum he swung his hilt forward and began sliding the sword downward. He sent the butt of his sword with full force toward Sosa's forehead.

(OOC: Sorry for the short post after a long wait. It seems that sword fights are rather granular and there's only openings for short actions. If you want something different or more movement just say the word. Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu.)