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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 2:53:10 GMT
It was a time that has long since passed.
The land of Kamigawa was ravaged by war for years. When that war finally ended, there was almost nothing left. A few shrines dotted the barren landscape, but for the most part, it was little more than a desert. Spirits roamed the land, crying, screaming, searching for what they had lost. For the few shrine maidens that had lived through the catastrophe, these spirits represented all they had lost.
For Suzume, life had taken on a sort of horrific monotony. Her shrine was mostly untouched, but she could hear the screams of the dead in an almost horrifyingly loud cacophony. Yet, as with all unpleasant things, she had learned to tune it out. For the moment she heard nothing and was sweeping out the last vestiges of the autumnal leaves into the courtyard.
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 3:03:35 GMT
Suzume could hear loud clanks of metal against the stairs, the clanks sounded rattled.
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 3:04:41 GMT
The young woman looked up and propped the broom against the door. It had been some time since anyone had come to visit. She walked over to the entrance, pulled open the screen door, and peered out.
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 3:21:27 GMT
She saw Samurai with a broken and bloodied sword, and cracks along his armor with a slugish walk coming toward her.
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 3:25:36 GMT
She frowned, tugged the door as far open as it would go. Then, with a practiced, delicate step, she trotted down the steps, coming to a pause directly in front of him. She spoke no words.
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 3:41:42 GMT
The warrior dropped his sword as he raised his head to see her face, A large crack was across his helmet like the rest of his body and began to speak, "Did it have to be this way?"
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 3:48:00 GMT
"Nothing must be the way it is. To question the past is to invite madness, I fear," she replied softly, reaching out a hand to him. "Come. It is safer to speak inside."
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 3:59:28 GMT
The samurai bowed and picked up his blade and sheathed what was left of it and followed behind her, the stench of blood came from him.
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 4:14:00 GMT
Once he entered the shrine, she shut the door behind him. As he looked around, he saw a rather humble home, a shrine repurposed. She sighed, sat down at the kotatsu, gestured for him to sit across from her.
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 5:00:05 GMT
He accepted her invitation and sat down the traditional kamigawan way. "Where am I and who are you?..", he asked in a low weakend tone.
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 5:11:31 GMT
"You're in the Shrine of O-Kagachi. I am its keeper, Nakashinkoku Suzume." She inclined her head. If she had been standing up, she would have bowed. "You are?"
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Post by Diurnal on Dec 12, 2014 5:17:48 GMT
A terrible screech of pain came from outside, as if someone was on the verge of death. It was unmistakably inhuman.
Should one of the two (or both) come outside, they would see what seemed to be a woman on her hands and knees, something impaling her chest. An arrow, covered in what seemed to be an equivalent of blood. Katakuichi had been ripped from her world by one of the many still-remaining rifts between the land of Kami and mortals.
She was dressed in beautiful robes, and had what seemed to be hair, black in color, woven into a bun. Her face was not visible as she was looking at the ground, and it was therefore hard to tell whether it be spirit or human. Was she the one who made the cry from just moments ago?
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Post by Suzume Nakashinkoku on Dec 12, 2014 5:25:00 GMT
"My goodness, the shrine is so busy today." she said, rather fretfully. She trotted over to the woman, knelt down by her. A wound like that should be fatal.... How utterly curious.
Were Katakuichi to look up, she would see gentle blue eyes, touched by the Kami, O-Kagachi. There was a soft swirl of magic around Suzume, lending itself to healing magics despite the maiden's natural ineptitude for it. Moved by compassion, she offered a hand, glowing with gentle white. While the magic would not instantly knit such a wicked wound, it would offer some respite from the pain, kami or human.
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Post by The WereWizard on Dec 12, 2014 5:37:03 GMT
The woman screamed just as he was going to say his name and looked at the source of the sound and followed suzume.
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Post by Diurnal on Dec 12, 2014 5:49:30 GMT
Katakuichi did look up. Her face was covered by mask, like all of her race, and behind those slits for vision were two glowing pupils, as vast and as green as the forest canopy, within them lurking regret, remorse, and suffering. She took the hand, and she grunted as the pain was relieved for a short time. As she stood up, she grabbed the shaft of the arrow and attempted to rip it out but somehow failing, as if it refused to move.
"Where... Where am I?" She asked, the same question the samurai had inquired earlier. "All mortal lands look the same..." She commented. For Katakuichi, that statement was true. "Is... Is this Eiganjo? Or... is it... the Orochi Forest?... Tell me..." She sputtered weakly, blood seeping out in a fashion eerily similar to the samurai's, as if they were grim reflections of each other.
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