#seiroku wanting to be free

[deathfavor]

at the moment, you want...

to be free

you've been trying to leave for so long. something is keeping you there, like being chained, or locked in. in the moment, you feel trapped. your heart desires to feel freedom, and this could be physical or mental, or even both. physically. you may be truly trapped, confined in a situation that seems to have no end, or even trapped in your own emotions. you desire to let go, to feel free once again and at peace. there are ways to free yourself, all hope isn't lost.

to restart

it all feels the same. it always has. the same few things, over and over. no variety, no progress. you feel like you've messed up somewhere, and can't figure out where. you've been walking down this road for so long, it feels like years. it also feels like a few hours, maybe only a day. it was supposed to lead somewhere, someday. it was supposed to be promising, but all you've reached is a dead end. you wonder if you took a wrong turn along the way. you sit down, wishing to restart, and maybe not take this path at all. this has happened yesterday, it's happened today, it's happened tomorrow. it feels neverending. instead, maybe retracing your steps will help. this isn't the end for you, there's still many roads to go down, it's just that this particular one wasn't the one for you. you want to restart with a blank slate, but would that really be the best idea? who would you be without the mistakes, and progress you've made so far?

to be seen

it is so, so loud. everyone around you is talking, crowded together. despite how loud it is, you cannot hear them, even when they talk to you. you try to talk to them, but you can't hear their responses. you take this as no response at all. it feels lonely, and dark, despite you all sitting in the sun together, and everyone's having a great time except you. you keep trying to get their attention, and when you do, it never feels like enough. you can't keep doing more. it's tiring. you see yourself floating in space, it's cold, and dark. they're still down on earth, laughing, so loud. you desire to be seen right now. you feel unappreciated, you feel left out.

[ofdraiocht]

@deathfavor for Seiroku

"Have you ever stopped to think that perhaps the majority of the bushi today aren't the same as the ones you seem to hate? The ones who wronged you in such a way that you've sided with the monsters trying to ruin us?"

Seiroku kept self projecting on him whenever they met, claiming he'd be free with Tatsuomi gone. But Naoe didn't see it that way. He didn't feel like he was being used or mistreated. He fought for his people because he wanted to. His failures weren't penalized. He was uplifted and reassured.

"How cruel were they to you?"

[kyukicho]

@deathfavor asked:

  With the generals out of the picture, caught up in Kasumasa’s little ploy, there’s a short window of free time to be able to witness first hand the suffering of all the bushi. And as informative as Nanao had been, there was hardly any joy just from hearing it when he could see it. One of the benefits among many with the black crystal being the ability to come and go from the black Kishin with ease. And, of course, to see a particular band suffering. 

   “ My, you’re all in quite poor shape. “ Seiroku’s voice breaks through the sound of bushi misery with it’s cheerful politeness. “ Need a doctor? I’ll make sure everything’s painless. “ Their death, of course, although he might or might not be lying. He has no intention of helping them when he wants to see every bushi dead. “ Long time no see. “ He waves in mockery at Naoe from where he lingers in the sky outside of the green bushi shields.  

Seiroku... He should have guessed that the filthy mutt was still alive. How exactly he managed to survive the wound Kanetatsu caused was beyond him. Did it have something to do with that black crystal like the others dogs seem to have? Assuming Seiroku had one too...

"What have you done with the generals and goddess?" Kanetatsu sneered, raising his blade to shoulder level. Like the other Bushi, he wasn't restricted to the shields like a civilian. Passing through it with ease, vision narrowed at the floating menace.

"I can assume you sent them someplace with that other dog's power. Bring them back!" No concern for himself, his master, fellow generals and especially that redheaded boy were the most important things at this moment. What hope did they have with all of them missing?

Doctor? It finally dawned on Kanetatsu what the man had said. It was true he wore a veil like their medical workers did. Did that mean he was a doctor? What need would the obsidian eight have with someone like that?

Keeping a close eye on Seiroku, he propelled himself slowly to be equal height in the sky. He wasn't about to be looked down on, not by him. "So you're a doctor? Is that how you managed to survive my blade?" In no condition to start a fight and saving his strength, Kanetatsu figured he could at least get some answers.

[x0401x]

Nijuu Seiki Denki Mokuroku: Introduction, Story and Profiles

“I want you to remember this: light exists because someone turned it on.”

Meiji, Taishou, Shouwa, Heisei. The eras change, but love does not.

Winner of the 8th Kyoto Animation Grand Prix Encouragement Prize.

The set time is during the Meiji Era. Kyoto, Japan had just barely entered the twentieth century. This era, where the city started becoming familiar with Oriental cultures and began lighting up with electric poles, was a whimsical period, in which Japanese merged with Western, and the past merged with the future. There are definitely certain townspeople who lived in it who were never talked about in history.

This is neither about war nor politics. It is about a love story that happened somewhere in that era, which did not remain engraved in history at all.

Story

“Will you die with me and take me to Paradise?”

Meiji year 40. Summer. Living in Fushimi, Kyoto, Momokawa Inako never succeeded at anything she tried, no matter what it was, thus being reprimanded by her father every day. Her one and only salvation was praying to the gods and Buddha and having faith.

On a certain day, while bringing her hands together at Fushimi Inari as usual, she met Sakamoto Kihachi, a free and uncontrolled boy who spat out at her, “I don’ believe in what I can’t see”. He denied the gods and Buddha, boasting that their era would be the age of electricity.

In said occasion, a discussion about marriage was suddenly brought up to Inako. It was her father’s one-sided decision, yet Inako gave in to it, thinking that her own worth was only so much. Mustering out his true feelings about wanting to free her, Kihachi took her out of her locked house.

The only way to stop the marriage was to look for a strange book, the “Electricity Catalog”. It was a prophecy book about electricity that Kihachi had written in his childhood, which his older brother Seiroku had taken away, the latter’s whereabouts unknown. Both Kihachi and Inako depart in search for the “Electricity Catalog” and roam around the territory of Shiga and Kyoto.

The secret hidden within the vanished “Electricity Catalog” was――

Character Profiles

Sakamoto Kihachi

A boy who loves electric lights dearly, works at the Hourai Temple Shop in Shinkyougoku Street and also handles mechanical repairs. 15 years old.

In the past, he was charmed by the near-future machines from the 5th Annual National Exhibition held in Oosaka and took interest in electricity. Believing relentlessly that “the twentieth century is the century of electricity”, he wrote the Electricity Catalog, which imagines future electrical inventions. His house is within a temple, but upon becoming unable to believe in gods, he had a big argument with his father and left home. He hates dark places with a passion.

Momokawa Inako

She grew up as the second daughter of the Momokawa Sake Brewer, located in Fushimi, Kyoto. 15 years old.

She has a pure-hearted and lively personality, but makes too many clumsy mistakes, and is always scolded by her father, Jinuemon. She ends up being compared to her sister, who can do anything, and is pessimistic about her very existence. She believes unwaveringly in gods, and whenever she is troubled by something, she goes to pray for the great mircacle-working deity Akubi of Fushimi Inari. “Believing is worth it” is her most common phrase. The only thing that she does not lose to anyone at is catching rats with her bare hands.

Momokawa Noriko

Inako’s older sister. 20 years old.

As the opposite of Inako, she is a mature woman gifted with both intelligence and beauty, flawless at everything she does. Her childhood friend Kuga is her fiancé, but the two are in a state of arguing every time they see each other, and so their wedding is on hold. The white kimono she wears and her long, lustrous hair are things that Inako admires. She was born and raised by rice wine brewers, but cannot stand the smell of alcohol.

Kuga Sengo

The second son of a rice grain dealer from Ootsu, the Kugatsunekichi Shop. 24 years old.

He is serious and has a strong sense of justice, adored by Inako as if he were her older brother. His relationship with his fiancée Noriko is that of dogs and cats, and he always has his mouth shut by Noriko’s sharp tongue. Due to his body of over 180cm of stature and the reckless way with which he madly rushed ahead during the Russo-Japanese War, he was nicknamed “Okajouki”. He currently works on philanthropic activities, such as helping the Salvation Army.

Sakamoto Seiroku

Kihachi’s older brother. He is masculine, but has a slim frame and always acts foolish. He pokes fun at people and Kihachi is cautious of him, branding him as a “liar”. He is the one responsible for showing Kihachi the beauty of electricity, and the suspicion towards gods and freewheeling of the latter were taken after him as well. He is very fond of high places and his dream is to go up the Eiffel Tower. He was entrusted by Kihachi with the Electricity Catalog, which seemed close to being set on fire by their father.

[deathfavor]

@yeonban said: “I’ve got you” OK BUT... Soma and Seiroku ❤️🤧

send "I've got you" to help my muse wash blood off their body

Dull eyes stare at the water in the basin, clear water turning cloudy and polluted with the blood that Seiroku wipes away. It's easier to clean as much of it off here as he can before the bath. And he hasn't felt this disgusting in a long time, stomach turning while his eyes close for a moment to just breathe.

He's doing the right thing. He's doing what he wants to do ; unweaving the golden strings he'd woven into the members of the Date clan before. It had been a brilliant plan when VENGEANCE had been the only desire consuming Seiroku's mind. When he'd only craved blood in his mouth. Having his healing strings woven into anyone injured meant he could decimate the clan in one move in the future. A brilliant, bloody slaughter that would be like the best bite of food in the world. Now? Now it only feels appalling. So he works carefully ; removing his golden strings when they return with new injuries, setting their realities CORRECT as he ensures they heal properly.

Seiroku moves away from the basin and towards the waiting private tub. But his mind is still focused on the work he's been pouring his efforts into along side his usual work. taking on extra hours much to some of the medical staff's concern. A new thought had dawned - he wonders if he SHOULD be doing this. But for a very different reason now. The reverse side of the coin is that with his strings in place, most of the Date members are UNLIKELY TO DIE. His strings will make them easier to fix and harder to kill to begin with.

He climbs into the tub and winces at the sting of the water. It's hot but it also feels like exactly what he needs. He should give them a choice, right? If they learned of what his strings can do? The people should choose.

A violent, piercing memory reawakens with vivid colors and intensity ; he feels physically SICK at the memory. Of him being used to create an immortal army, of being denied sweet Death to keep his former clan alive. the mockery and degrading and insults and - Seiroku clutches onto the side of the tub fiercely and it feels like he forgets how to breathe. SOMA WOULDN'T DO THAT. Soma would probably kill anyone who dared to try to force him to. But Seiroku struggles to breathe all the same, hunched over and trembling and he shoves the memories back and feels a pulse deep in the black crystal in his chest. He -

A hand touches his shoulder and Seiroku flinches away, startled at the act. But it's only Soma. Of course it is. Seiroku should have heard him, but he'd been too lost in his own thoughts, dragged down and drowning in black tar of despair and suffering. He relaxes his shoulders and offers a worn-out smile to Soma. At least he can play it off as overworking himself again. A HABIT THEY'RE BOTH GUILTY OF. Even if only Seiroku gets the privilege of truly seeing its effects.

" Sorry, I didn't hear you. I'm okay. I just got in when the water was still a bit too hot and made me feel a bit lightheaded. " Seiroku murmurs. It feels impossible to focus on his limbs with the storm in his head. But he tries, tries to wash away at the blood. And then - I've got you. Soma's voice offers him peace like nothing else in this world does. Not even the oceans or rivers can soothe his soul the way Soma's presence alone does. What is forced relaxation at first turns genuine as he feels Soma settle beside the tub, feels how Soma helps wash away some of the blood that Seiroku missed or hadn't noticed. It helps him focus: not on the trauma of the past, but on the pleasantness of the present. How Soma's strong hands are gentle when they let his hair free from his usual ponytail style, how careful he is with the cloth. And Seiroku WOULD feel bad and guilty for Soma doing this if it wasn't for the fact he's certain the red bushi likes getting the chance to take care of him.

After a moment, Seiroku sinks back so his back rests against the edge of the tub, his head falling back against Soma's shoulder and chest. " Chima tattled on me to you, didn't she? " He asks, voice tired but amused. That girl was too smart for her own good ; she'd figured out Seiroku and Soma's interests long before anyone else. Still, a blossom of pride continued to flower in Seiroku's chest as he thought about how much promise she held - how SHE could have the life he never had as a bushi. Although she also wasn't afraid to mention to Soma or Seiroku if there was something amiss with the other. or help for surprises, a true romantic at heart that girl.

Seiroku smiles at the thought as he cranes his head a bit further back to look at Soma, his left hand raising to gently trace Soma's jawline. If Soma wanted to take care of him..Seiroku could allow him that rare pleasure. He wouldn't protest. Instead he simply tugs the other down for a moment to kiss his fiancé's lips sweetly and lets go with a soft whisper of " Thank you. "

[deathfavor]

Anonymous said: Seiroku, you were prepared for Soma to die since you met him, weren't you? Why are you surprised he died?

" . . . "

Yes. But no. When Seiroku had first met Soma, it had been with the intent to stain the ground and rivers red with blood. He would gather all the valuable pieces of information to report back, and then carnage would ensue. It had been as simple of a plan as that. He had chocked on rage and hatred to play his part, all while plotting a grand massacre. He hadn't just prepared for the idea of Soma dying. He'd been it's originator. It had been his idea to spy on the Dates. Many of the other clans were easier to throw into chaos or sow seeds of discord into ; the Date had been the greatest threat of them all. They had numbers, strength, and discipline that others lacked.

And then he'd forgotten. Bit by bit, his original plot had faded like ink left too long in the sun until there was nothing left of it. Nothing of it remained in Seiroku's heart. And as time passed, he'd selfishly indulged in the idea that he could have this life. He liked the idea that he could stay by Soma's side and the Date. The longer he stayed the more he could forget the hatred that used his body and his name; the more the real him that could have been was let free to flourish.

The more time passed, the more Seiroku hoped for the Date's success. He never forgot his hatred for other bushi. But to them alone, he hoped for their success. Despite how the thought felt like betraying himself after so many years lost in the waters of rage, he had hoped.

The more time passed, the more he considered his own death. ( Because that is what would have to happen, and he would let it. )

Soma's death was not an option. It was delusional hope. Seiroku tilts his chin up slightly, jaw clenched as he forces his tears to not fall. It was pure, delusional hope that they could ever have a happy ending. He knew better ; but he had yearned for it so desperately that he'd indulged in the fairytale. He wanted to believe there was a way for the Date to stay safe, for Soma to stay safe. But the Obsidian Eight's success would mean their demise ; their success would mean Seiroku's demise.

He knew one of their death's would come. But be prepared for it? No. Seiroku hadn't been prepared for that in a long time. Because it wasn't supposed to happen.

" Why? " Seiroku lifts his eyebrows. " Because his strength is legendary, plus he had the benefit of a black heart without risk of insanity since he's so new. He's stronger than any of the other new people we've had in a long time. " Lies. It's all a bunch of lies. Seiroku couldn't care less about the legends and stories of Soma's strength. He knew it but that wasn't the reason. That wasn't the reason at all. Why was he surprised? Because Soma was never supposed to die. Because that was the man he loved. That was reason enough to believe he'd never die. Seiroku didn't want him to die. Maybe that's what doomed Soma more than anything else. The world loved to take and break everything that Seiroku cared about, to crush any chance Seiroku could have at being anything more than a beast of hatred. Soma wasn't supposed to die. He was. He told Soma where to stab him. It was supposed to be him that died.

But the answer he gave was Black dog like, wasn't it? It was something he would have said before meeting Soma, right? Right? Why wasn't he sure anymore? How could months replace decades of hatred? Who......was he? Who was Seiroku Inukawa anymore? It'd been easier. When he killed his past self full of optimism and taken a new name. Seiroku Inukawa was a monster. But now Soma had known him as Seiroku too. Now he wasn't sure who he was, monster or loved.

" I mean, who would expect a red bushi like him to - " die. It's a single word, and Seiroku can't say it. He knows it. But he can't say it. He swallows and looked away. " Most of the obsidian eight go mad, though battle is the next most common. " Facts, he needs facts to stop his pain for bleeding everywhere. " So of course it was a surprise. Especially given who he was against. Guess we should've killed that general sooner. " He says, but the words are flat and his heart isn't in it.

[deathfavor]

What soul are you?

KAZUTORA - VALHALLA'S TIGER

Chaotic Soul

You have acquired the Chaotic soul. you don't know who you are or what you are doing. whether from the beginning or it has been taken from your grasp. everything bounces around inside of you. a restless energy buzzing in your throat. an ache to pull the trigger. you say things without thinking. revenge drips from your teeth in a fleshly grotesque way. it drips down your chin and smears onto your clothing. pooling in your collar bones. you will make them pay for what they did to you and you'll take anyone down to get it. it'd be impossible to tell you to relax. but don't be so obstinate in letting other wipe your mouth. clean you up. people don't always want to hurt you. you have scars across your heart that needing tending. You share a soul type with Pav.

SEIROKU - THE BLACK DOG

Tainted Soul

You have acquired the Tainted soul. you're strong. you get real clever at protecting yourself. your skin and resolve tough like leather. blood is not beautiful. not to the common folk. it is simply just red. no matter who spills it. who it is spilled from, it remains red. even if you are dealt bad cards in life you do not need to yearn for the Red. regardless if its yours or not. you still love despite everything. despite the black film you've convinced yourself you have over your heart. you've been gambled on. sport turned to fight to the death. the losing dog and winning dog and good dogs know how to sit and not bite the hand that feeds. but the hand tugs at the collar too tight around your neck that you wear so that others don't have to. perhaps it's time to let go of the collar and free yourself from these dog fights. live out the peace you always wanted. that your bashfulness always told everyone, eventually, anyway. i believe in you. you share a soul type with Marcoh.

tagged by: @revengesworn ( thank you !! ) tagging: @yeonban ; @ofdraiocht ; @furiaei ; @soulsballad ; @heartfils ; @todestochter ; @vulpesse ; & whoever else hasn't but want to!

[deathfavor]

@kyukicho said: sender spits out a mouthful of blood at receiver's feet - naoe for seiroku

blood, blood, gallons of the stuff starters

Seiroku doesn't move as he watches the red soul sink to his knees and spit out a mouthful of blood. It's a sight that fills him with sadistic glee for a multitude of reasons. Seeing any Bushi in agony was bound to make his heart beat faster with adrenaline. But there's something extra sadistic in seeing red souls be hurt to the point of bleeding like that. He hates them. He hates their arrogance and their brutish behaviors.

( Maybe another part of him hates them because he RESENTS them. They represent his fall, the changing of times, when he fell from glory. It's always an ugly reminder. )

" That's not very good. " Seiroku hums and pulls at another yellow string coiled around Naoe's body and laughs. Rhabdomyolysis . Muscle disintegration. But where should he start? His arms? It WOULD be amusing to see the despair that crossed his face when he lost his ability to wield his sword or lift his arms. There was always so much more DELIGHT in breaking apart red souls. They were so used to being at the top and being untouchable that when they weren't, it broke them more. Or maybe he should start with the legs? Somehow the black dog has a feeling that would be the least efficient method of dealing with this bushi.

" You're not going to drown in your own blood already, are you? " Seiroku slams his foot into Naoe's ribcage, feels the adrenaline start to spike in his blood. This is what he missed. He missed fighting HUMANS. He didn't care about the Oni. This is what made his blood sing. This is what he'd once been famous for. " See how its frothy? That means its from your lungs. " Seiroku remarks as if he's teaching a lesson to a student. He is, excluding the student part. One might call it psychological warefar as if the physical pain wasn't enough. " Funny isn't it? DROWNING in the very thing you need to live? "

He steps away, circling like a hunting dog that's trapped a wounded animal. He SHOULD just kill the red soul now. But he wanted him to suffer, wanted to drag out the pain until death was a mercy. And then? Then Seiroku would be kind enough to let him have death and let him be free. No more of the Bushi nonsense, no more suffering. Just sweet death. " The human body is paradoxically so sturdy and so fragile at the same time. "

[deathfavor]

@yeonban​​​​ said:   ∗ o9﹕ Soma  falls  asleep  leaning  against  Seiroku.  It's  a  light  sleep,  one  he  could  wake  up  from  within  a  moment's  notice  if  his  ears  were  to  pick  up  on  any  louder  sounds  or  movements,  but  it  speaks  volumes  of  both  his  exhaustion  (this  week  has  been  particularly  rough  on  him)  as  well  as  his  fondness  of  the  other  (he  isn't  the  sort  to  let  his  guard  down  near  anyone  besides  the  four  generals,  and  while  he  hasn't  entirely  rid  himself  of  it  now  either,  it's  still  lowered  in  comparison  to  the  usual  -  the  odd  feeling  from  their  first  meeting  bothers  him  still,  but  he  supposes  this  could  do  for  a  test  about  Seiroku's  intentions,  for  he  is  certain  he  could  survive  even  an  attack  launched  in  his  sleep).

Various Nonverbal Prompts ∗ o9﹕ sender  falls  asleep  leaning  against  receiver .

   Seiroku turns his head slightly when he feels the weight against his side increase in relation to a lack of responsiveness. It wasn’t surprising in the literal sense to see Soma asleep; all the physical signs had indicated at much to the trained doctor. But it WAS a surprise to see Soma actually asleep in his presence, much less while leaning against him. That seemed like an abnormally reckless act on the captain’s part. Then again, Seiroku had been a firsthand witness to how brutal the work had been for the captain. Sooner or later the body would give, even when the will was still burning fervently. Soma was no exception to this despite what he might portray to the world.

   He cautiously lowers the scroll he’d been reading, blue pools focused on the general still. How vulnerable of a predicament to put himself into. Seiroku could wrap a thread around his throat if he wanted to or a million other acts. He’s a doctor - he knows weaknesses of  the body most warriors do not. It’s probably what he should do. All the average bushi quaked in their boots at mere mention of the obsidian eight - without their head, they’d collapse and crumble like a sandcastle at the mercy of rising tides. The flame from the candle flickers, as if affected from the darkness of the thoughts brewing.

   The flickering light draws his attention upwards to the candle and thus the desk, where other papers and scrolls sat - a brush still dipped in ink from his earlier writing resting at the ready. He would not write however. If he did so, it would undoubtedly disturb and likely rouse the red soul from the shallow comfort of sleep. Although he hardly thought this position would be good for Soma’s posture or back. Especially if he actually slept the whole night like this. Could Seiroku move him without waking him? That was a question to ponder. Sleep could be a delicate matter, especially when it was a light rest. If he moved, there was a high chance that Soma would awaken and might not get back to sleep. It probably wouldn’t be the best to try, and Soma didn’t seem that bothered by it even in his sleep.

   A hand lifted to raise the face veil, and he gave a soft blow of air to extinguish the candle while he moved with slow, precise gestures to roll up the scroll in his lap and set it aside. In the newly fallen darkness, it felt like his thoughts had more time to grow and writhe, war with one another as he sat with them. Now...wasn’t a good time. At least such was the truth he told to himself as he used his left hand to pull the cloth holding his hair back free, and then took off his face veil and set them both on the table. Might as well be a bit more comfortable when he didn’t want to risk moving too much and waking him.

   “  You better let me sleep in tomorrow.  “  Seiroku remarked softly, barely audible so as not to rouse Soma.

   What the hell was he doing? This wasn’t what he should be doing at all. Soma would certainly kill HIM the moment he learned the truth if it should somehow slip. This wasn’t like him at all.  This should be simple. It should have been easy. When was had it become not? It was FRUSTRTING in a way, but who was the frustration at? Himself? For not following the clear-set logical path that’d benefit the obsidian eight? Soma, for making this and everything so confusing and complicated? He had to hold in the snort, concerned that the gesture might startle Soma awake. Instead he lets himself turn towards the window and the scenery that the moonlit illuminated as he moved just a fraction to be more comfortable. It was going to be a long night with dawn still so far away. If he was lucky, maybe he’d be able to doze some.

[deathfavor]

Anonymous said:   seiroku, how about listing everyone you know (obsidian eight and enemy bushi) into the 3 fmk categories? you can put as many or as few as you want in each but there has to be at least 1 in every category

FMK - send 3 names

“ I presume you mean the enemies I know the names of at least? That’s quite the request you’ve made. But you were polite, so I’ll entertain it.”  Seiroku decides with a stretch before he leans back the contemplate with a smile. Where to begin?

  “ Let’s start with the Obsidian Eight then, shall we? I’d kill Yataro and Nanoe.” He answers this immediately. “Not that killing them is anything personal but I don’t see either as on par or particularly useful. Yataro is as meek as a mouse around Shiro and I. Nanoe…well I do appreciate her taking matters seriously, but she is more sympathetic which is a potential issue. Shiro’s quest went wrong because of that. At least theoretically, although knowing it was the real vessel, perhaps not entirely her fault.  “  It was an important factor to consider in the blame for that..  “  I’d fuck Shiro. Mikito as well. I’d say marry for him, but Mikito is obsessed with Shiro much like Nanoe is. I wouldn’t want that from a partner.“  He frowns slightly. This really was a bit more difficult than anticipated.  “  If I had to marry someone from within the obsidian eight, it would probably be Imari. I get along well her, most of my free time is spent with her and Mikito actually.” Outside of when Imari and him played a strategy game and often ended up arguing over it. The alcohol definitely didn’t help. “ I don’t really care either way for Aijiro, so I could fuck or kill him with no care either way. “  To that only left Kazumasa for him to give his decision on. “......Kill. “  Although fuck wouldn’t be too bad either. So he was closer to the same spot as Aijiro, but with a stronger bias to one option.  “  Kill Katsumi too while we’re at it. “

   “ So now to the enemies. We’re saying just bushi right? “  Seiroku chuckles.  “  Well, I already said I’d marry Soma. We’re carrying that over. As well as kill Naoe. I’d also kill Takeda Naotora and Uesugi Tatsuomi. “  Who else did he know?  “As for Usami Kuroko. Well, I’d have to kill her since she is the biggest issue against us. but if I need to choose one to fuck, I would choose her. “ He holds up a finger as if to add onto the thought.  “  And although the Obsidian Goddess isn’t a bushi per se, I’d kill her. That would anger Shiro, but I have no interest in her and she’s been a source of irritation.”  Ah. Now that he thinks about it... “  Are we including people I know of only by name rather than people I have encountered? I haven’t met some of the others in person but naturally i know of them. Although by default they’d be in kill unless meeting them changed that.  “ Was he forgetting anyone? He didn’t think so at the moment. If he was, then the answer was probably kill. They weren’t worth his attention or interest.

[deathfavor]

Anonymous said: Seiroku, how do you like being treated as royalty? Is it uncomfortable or is it better than the life you're used to? ✘

for 10 questions my muse must answer truthfully (send ✘ + question)  [ 1/10 ]

   He wonders what people expect from him with a question like that? Then again....His pride is also not so inclined to admit to certain facts of his own free will. He has a role to play like a surgeon in a surgery - there are expectations one way or another. 

   How does he even begin to start with this?   “  It isn’t solely one aspect or another.  “  It is the truth in its entirety, but that is not exactly what the question asks.  “  There are times where it is uncomfortable, though not through fault of anyone.  “  He’s always liked being around people, but such occurrences had dwindled through his life. With the original obsidian eight he’d still had those ties. But as some were killed or died to madness, it’d become isolating despite his efforts as the decades passed. To suddenly be thrust back into the light had both been relieving as it had been otherwise. Especially in the beginning, when he’d still been choking on rage with every breath.

  .  .  .  Funny. He can’t actually recall the moment his hate had evaporated for the Date. Only that it had, and suddenly he’d been talking and eating and hanging out with some of them. A smaller group, but still others. And of course Soma. Soma, who had really been the one to change it all. The man who made the impossible happen. Not entirely, he still loathed others. But even a few steps into the impossible was shocking ; it was still a few steps that were thought impossible to make.

   “  No, actually. Uncomfortable isn’t the right word. It is strange I should say. To be given that attention so freely when I’ve been used to having to push to get any. I....like it more. This life.  Not because of the royalty treatment. Truth be told, I’d already liked it more even without that. “  He’d missed being a doctor on the regular. Missed using that knowledge; missed something he never had had. That was the sort of life he had wanted when he was young, what he’d dreamed of, till his band had crushed it out till nothing remained of it.  “  Sometime it’s just a lot to try to process. It can be overwhelming.  “  To the point it’d brought tears to his eyes, he still remembers how his legs nearly gave out at his birthday, how hot the tears in his eyes had felt. It’d been so overwhelming that it felt like dying and finally living and breathing at the same time.

   He shrugs his shoulders slightly.  “  Sure, the royalty treatment is nice. I’m not going to pretend I don’t enjoy that extra touch to it. But really, even without that I would still like it more. And there are some downsides.  “  After all, image was everything and he was well aware of that fact. Less so on him than for Soma, but there was weight they both carried for it.