竜神の剣

Indie RP Blog for Genji from Overwatch. Established Jan. 2017

[acceptedmyself]

Hey all. Those that are left anyway. Long time no see.

I have been doing alright, but I’ve also been extremely busy as of late. For good reasons, mind you. I am now doing what I love for a living, and though I recently went through a breakup, I have never felt more happy to put myself out there and live my life to the fullest. I feel really grateful for everything I could achieve in these past year.

(Also I might have gotten slightly addicted to FFXIV so there’s also that.)

So, now, for the stuff that’s a bit less nice: As you probably guessed by this year of utter silence, I don’t think I will be ever returning to this blog.

It really pains me to say this because Genji is still a character I love, and I have genuinely enjoyed writing him for all these years; not to mention I got some amazing stories going on here, and I am grateful I got to meet all of you. Nothing will ever change that.

But the fact is, I am now completely emotionally divorced from Overwatch as a series. In huge part because I do not think the people it belongs to deserve devoted fans like us. The various sexual harassment incidents at Activision were already a thing that made me refuse to continue actively engaging with their products. And then, them killing the first game for a pseudo-sequel that did not deliver anything it announced and only forced the whole thing into adopting a somehow even more predatory business model was just the straw that broke the camel’s back for me.

Now, playing the game and writing collaborative fanfic is two different things for sure. I would gladly reclaim Genji as my own and keep interacting with you all here. But at this point, the lore of the series is such a muddied mess of permanent retcons, nonsensical storylines, and shallow newer characters that I don’t see myself ever wanting to try and engage with it ever again. And, well, that’s kind of a problem to write a world with other people.

Ngl, we all knew it’d be bad when Michael and Jeff jumped ship, we just didn’t think they would fuck it up that badly. (In hindsight, though, this is the WoW people. Of course they were gonna fuck it up.)

The addition of a character as fascinating and attractive as Ramattra might have changed my mind last year, but that’s a siren’s song I’m willing to ignore because there’s no saving the dumpster fire that the franchise in its entirety has become in my eyes. OW2 signed a death warrant for a game that helped me recover from a pretty dark time in my life, and that is heartbreaking to say the least. I highly doubt they will prove me wrong anytime soon. I feel like I’ve waited long enough for them to pull their shit together.

So, with this here post, I’m just officially announcing I’m retiring from this RPC. You can hit me up on my main if you wish to stay in touch.

Thank you all for sticking with me for so long. I wish you all the love and success in the world.

Arz

「 ありがとう、そしてさらばだ 」

[acceptedmyself]

Hiatus Notice

I am putting this account on hold for a little while. Things have been kind of piling up on my side of things and I really cannot promise I can write replies as fast as I used to.

Promise, this won’t last five months like last time! As always, I thank you all for your support.

Take care, love you all.

[acceptedmyself]

simulamortem​:

 AFTER repairs. How long would that take? Not like the simulacrum was pressed for time, but he did NOT like to be bedridden for long, least of all in a pile of SCRAP like this. “We’ll m-meet again in the rrring,” he assured in the same menacing hiss.

Clearly he did not mean as TEAMMATES.

One of his feet made an OBNOXIOUS metal SCRAPING against the floor with every labored step forward. The leg itself was on the verge of GIVING UP and dropping away from him at the hip. His gaze shifted for the dirtied metal frame dragging him along, yellow optics flicking over the SEAMS in silence at first.

Sparrow was not like the MRVN. On the contrary, Revenant suspected the other was HUMAN under there, and that the metal was merely an advanced ARMOR of some form. Maybe. Maybe it was something… else. He yearned to TEAR OFF A LIMB and FIND OUT. Would it be BLOOD or would it be CIRCUITRY that spilled out?

“Just once? I’ll fffix that.”

Guess they really no longer had to pretend to enjoy each other’s company. Sparrow thought it preferable to get what he wanted to say off his chest while the other was in no position to tell him off in less diplomatic ways.

“We will settle this next round, but you must know I will not make it easy for you, so you better give it your all. I will be expecting better than what you showed me today.”  There was some distinct snark in the cyborg’s low growling now. “This lack of regard for your own safety definitely makes you sloppy. If you want to blame somebody for your current predicament, it should not be me.”

Sparrow ended this last sentence with a pained grunt. The burning in his chest was getting harder to ignore. He might not have taken the full blown of the explosion that incapacitated the simulacrum, but it still hit him close. He got hit by fist-sized shards of bombshell big enough to deform his armor, and ironically enough it was his own plating that was now stabbing into the little flesh he still had under there.

It hurt, and he could feel how dangerously close to his heart the damage was. All he hoped was that he would not pass out while he was still half-carrying the other.

They finally arrived in view of the medbay. The perspective of getting to lie down and rid himself of the literal burden on his shoulder was enough to make him peaked up the pace. This relief was however short lived, as he passed a hand over the keypad, only for the door to remain firmly in place. He tried again a few times before he realized there was absolutely no noise coming from inside. No personnel was waiting for them here.

He cursed under his breath, in an old Earth language, and let himself slowly slide down against the door, involuntarily dragging the other along with him.

[simulamortem]

@acceptedmyself​ : “  i’m not sorry.  ” 》sentence starters

“You w-will be,” his voice sputtered in a low, distorted, metallic HISS.

Winning, truly, was not Revenant’s priority in a match. HE WAS JUST THERE FOR THE KILLING. Everything else came secondary: including his own SURVIVAL. And in a state like this? He would have rather have been KILLED. Uploaded into a new body altogether.

Instead, Sparrow had insisted on dragging him out of harm’s way through the end of the match, no matter how much VENOM the simulacrum had spewed in protest . It was a wonder they had managed a win at all. But now the match was over, and Revenant was LEFT LIKE THIS, his good arm slung around the metal shoulders of his former squadmate as Sparrow proceeded to drag him somewhere else, away from the hungry cameras of the press. Off to the medbay maybe. Supplies for skinsuits and bots alike in there. But repairs at this stage would just be a CHORE.

Or, maybe it was more personal. Maybe Sparrow had some VENDETTA against him like so many others, and meant to use the situation to his ADVANTAGE. Meant to drag out his suffering in this dilapidated body a little LONGER.

[acceptedmyself]

They barely won this match by the skin of their teeth. Sparrow’s refusal to leave an injured Revenant to die back then should have by all account been a fatal mistake, but against all odds, a well timed bullet and sheer dumb luck had allowed them to take down the last remaining adversaries, securing their victory.

This is how he came to pass through that corridor, dragging Revenant with him toward the medbay. His “fellow” killing machine did not seem particularly happy about being denied release from a vessel that had turned inconvenient. Sparrow did not care, he was not regretting what he did.

“Is this a threat?” Through an exhausted grunt, the cyborg managed a brief chuckle. “You are welcome to try and kill me. Preferably after you are repaired, though. From you, I would expect a challenge.“

Revenant was definitely in a worse state than him, but Sparrow still felt his own body was also close to its limit. He grunted as they continued to limp together. He decided to keep talking, hoping it would let him stay conscious long enough.

“It was only once, but I too died before. I cannot fathom what it must be like, to grow numb to something like this.”

[ontrgt]

@acceptedmyself   ━━━━━  s.c

Leaning   back   in   the   cantina   chair   with   a   low   creak,   Jesse   raises   his   hands   for   emphasis   as   he   reattacks   his   point   with   a   growing   grin.   On   the   table   between   them,   half-empty   cups   of   coffee   and   what   remains   of   a   midnight   snack   litter   the   linoleum   surface.    ❝   Now   listen,   Genji,   all   I’m   sayin   is   that   Reinhardt   would   win   if   it   really   came   down   to   it.   He’s   got   a   hammer!   Winston   is   just   a   big   ol’   monkey.   ❞   It   had   been   the   back   and   forth   between   them   for   the   last   forty-five   minutes.   Reinhardt   versus   Winston   in   a   no   punches   pulled   fight.   Jesse   had   all   his   money   on   the   enormous   german   hammer   wielder.   

[acceptedmyself]

They had been going back and forth on this exact topic for the past hour and neither of them seemed ready to admit defeat. Genji was pretty sure he had the upper hand, though, because Jesse was now basing his arguments on weapons over physical strength. The ninja took it at his cue to finally drop the killing blow: His most airtight argument.

“I will give you that, no one other than him can swing this hammer around with as much ease. That doesn’t stop him from throwing his back once in a while, though. I still think Winston would win.”

“Do you remember when Doomfist punched me right through a car and Angela had to replace half of my organs? Before I lost consciousness back then, I got to witness firsthand someone out-punch Doomfist, and as you may recall, it wasn’t Reinhardt.”

[acceptedmyself]

“I told you that they were bad news.”

Trust is very easily lost these days (Accepting)

After he came back all bumped up with his wrist at an awkward angle, he had hoped he would remain discreet enough for his fellow Legends not to notice he got himself in trouble. But of course, Octane spotted him about as soon as he returned, ready to rub in his face that, yes, the Hammond Robotics honchos he was going after would not take kindly to... attempted blackmail.

“It is not that I did not trust your warning. More that I did not expect their bodyguard to spot me so soon. Not to mention I had to hold back... You know, sponsors orders. Something about how it would have been bad PR if I killed someone outside the Games.”

“I would be grateful if you kept quiet about this around the others.”

A pause. He glanced down at his own wrist.

“... Except maybe Ajay. She is good with prosthetic repairs, right?”

[octaane]

―   break  a  leg !  mine  are  made  of  steel .

independent ,  selective  &  18+  portrayal  of  OCTAVIO  ‘ OCTANE ‘  SILVA  of  respawn’s  APEX  LEGENDS .

[acceptedmyself]

“Why do you always think people are up to something?” - ghostttmachine

No I’m not going to make a joke about the shorthand of the word suspicious (Accepting)

A little while ago, Sparrow would have said he just did not particularly mesh well with people who were loud and abrasive. But that was before the last round of the Games where he unexpectedly began seeing Octane as both an entertaining companion and a trusted friend. So maybe the reason there was someone on the dropship he could barely stand wasn’t a problem with himself or with loud people in general. Maybe it was just that Mirage really did get on his nerves by simply existing.

He didn’t think he liked the guy, and the guy in question probably noticed by how dry his tone was when he addressed him, compared to how he talked to literally everybody else. When Elliott eventually confronted him on the reason he was so suspicious of him, the cyborg saw no reason not to just tell him the truth. Maybe this would spare the two of them any unnecessary headaches in the future.

“Staying cautious on this rock means staying alive for another day. I do not like letting my guard down, even on our days off.”

“But if you want an actual answer to your question, it really isn’t people I worry about. It is you.”

[horrificmemes]

Suspicious Sentence Starters

Send me one of the following sentences regarding suspicion, trust, and paranoia.

“I’m not sure you have the best intentions.” “When have I ever steered you wrong?” “What makes you think I can trust you?” “I don’t trust you. Not yet.” “It’s hard for me to believe anything you say.” “It hurts that you still can’t trust me after all this time.” “I made a mistake, okay? Are you going to distrust me forever?” “It takes me a long time to open up to people, I’m sorry.” “There’s someone outside watching the house.” “I have a weird feeling about him/her/them.” “Why do you always think people are up to something?” “I won’t give you my trust. You have to earn it.” “You can’t live your life being suspicious of everybody around you.” “I know we just met, but you have to trust me.” “What on earth are you up to?” “So, what were you whispering about?” “You’ve been keeping a secret from me.” “I’m not crazy, we’re being watched!” “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me the truth?” “I’d rather be safe than sorry when it comes to people I don’t know yet.” “I trusted you once and I’m never doing it again.” “You see that person? I think they’re following us.” “I just get this feeling that someone has been watching me.” “Who are you and why have you been following me?” “I used to be a very trusting person.” “Where were you?” “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.” “You won’t call me ‘paranoid’ when you realize I’ve been right all along.” “You were right, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” “Give me one good reason to trust you.” “After last time, I’m not sure I should listen to you.” “Nope. Nuh-uh. I’m not trusting another one of your bad plans.” “How can we trust this person?” “How do I know you won’t just stab me in the back?” “I’m sorry, I just can’t bring myself to trust you again.” “You were right. I was a fool to trust them.” “I’m not suspicious. I’m just cautious.” “I told you that they were bad news.” “No, facebook stalking isn’t ‘creepy’, it’s called ‘being careful’.” “I get a bad feeling about them.”

[knife-bullets]

reunited

[acceptedmyself]

iliosbcrn​:

    whatever the reason he may be here for, eidolon had no real reason to get into his business. their posture straightens at the realization they had been staring, a small bit of guilt waves over them before speaking up. “ah- my apologies, i didn’t mean to stare.”

   in all honesty, they were only here as a small visit to someone- rarely did the androgynous cyborg stay in their home country for very long, but there were always exceptions. “no need to worry about speaking my language, many travelers share the same trouble as you do; but i am willing to translate anything for you.”

“Do not mention it, I would have been staring too if I had noticed what was under your sleeve earlier.” Genji reassured them. “I imagine you are as used to getting gawked at as I am. It is at least good to attract someone’s gaze for reasons different from the usual.”

It was a strange thing to bond over. Technologically enhanced humans were really not that unusual in this day and age, but real cyborgs like them, whose machine parts were a very vital part of their beings, were still an oddity. In fact, Genji was pretty certain this was his first time meeting another person like him.

The ninja couldn’t deny he was pretty curious about this stranger’s story, but seeing how traumatic the memories of his own cyberization surgery were, he decided against pressing them on that topic right now. He instead responded to their offer with a smile in his voice.

“I really appreciate your offer, but I have no need for an interpreter. I do believe I might need a guide however. If you are interested, I am ready to pay you for your services.“

“Presentations do seem to be in order. My name is Genji. And to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

[acceptedmyself]

octaane​:

  “ ay, GRACIAS, amigo! “

his thanks sounded genuine, perhaps with a hint of surprise in his voice. part of him expected sparrow to be a lot colder, so he appreciated the compliment a little more than from somebody octane knew wasn’t entirely annoyed by him. maybe he judged the guy too quickly– which proves to the speedster yet again that if you try hard enough, you can befriend anybody. and he will take this to heart.

allowing his teammate to take the blade from his hand, octane now used his free hand to supprt himself on a nearby wall, watching as sparrow opened the blade with two hands and utmost care. the odd, green fluid inside the implemented syringe moved along with each turn; this was octane’s favorite part of the whole weapon. it was just… fun to watch the fluid splash around, maybe even shake the whole thing and you’ll get BUBBLES! it satisfied a part in his brain octane couldn’t pinpoint.

“ está bien! i’ll show you some. cut my own fingertips off plenty of times but it ain’t so bad, compadre, trust me. “

he laughed as he held his hand out again for sparrow to return the knife. thinking about it, he now had the intense need to shake it and watch the bubbles inside the built-in stim.

at first, he only shrugged in response to the other’s question. he wasn’t REALLY doing this whole thing for money… he just liked the attention, the fans. that stuff. money didn’t really matter in that way to octane– sure, it was nice to make some on his own without taking it all from his father’s bank, but… still.

“ dunno, get more stims? ooh, wait, nevermind. i thought about getting, like, an artificial geyser for CASA DE OCTANE. those things are COOL! fuck stairs when you can get into the next level with those things, right? heheh. “

The cyborg rolled the blade in his fingers some more. Toying with the handle and making the liquid inside the syringe froth was entertaining enough for a few seconds. He lightly prodded at the blade with the tip of his index and noticed it left a small chip on the metal of his prosthetic. This was a decently sharp weapon, definitely worth whatever Octane put in having it made.

Speaking of the pecuniary issues, when his partner gave him a response to his question, he was somewhat taken aback by how outlandish and yet so obvious Octane’s plans were. He was one of the rare people who were in the Apex Game for the thrill of it after all - much like the old himself, the ninja recalled having been told. Perhaps there was a part of that in his newfound fondness for the guy.

“Right, I forgot who I was speaking to for a minute.“ He chuckled. “This sounds very you. Definitely inconvenient for going to the bathroom in the middle of the night, though. I would be curious to see this for myself.”

While he was speaking, he had a go at closing the knife with a flick of his wrist, and when he failed miserably, he simply handed it back to its owner.

“I will have to ask my sponsor if I am allowed to visit you once we are out of this mess. I have not really had the luxury of free time since I woke up in this body.”

He would pace around the empty corridor for a bit and have a look outside. all he saw was the Ring slowly creeping closer behind the hills, tainting the sky orange. Shame the only window there was not directly facing any of the screens. He would have liked to check how many participants they were still up against.

They couldn’t just linger here until someone caught them anyway. He grabbed Octane’s arm and slowly pulled him down, beckoning him to sit back down.

“Let me see your wounds. We should probably get rid of those shells before they get infected. While I am doing this, why don’t you tell me more about this casa of yours?”

[acceptedmyself]

grizzledvigilante​:

 This job seemed simple enough. Just scouting for more information to attack later. He hadn’t really pumped himself up enough for an actual fight; even Ana wasn’t here at the moment.

It took him a moment to realize something was following him. Were his senses dimming with age? No, whoever this was must just be incredibly quiet. Or maybe he should’ve gotten his ears checked after the explosion. That couldn’t have been good for his hearing.

He slipped behind a corner and went around, pointing his rifle carefully. Despite not being incredibly prepared, he was always able to get himself back into the fighting groove. Or at least pretend to.

When he puts the rifle against the person, the sound it makes is…odd. It sounds more like a clink of metal. As he sees a bright green glow coming from where the man’s eyes would be, realization hits him. “Oh. Shimada,” he says. Genji wasn’t exactly easy to mistake for anyone else once you could see him. 

Then he realized. “Wait. Commander? Was my disguise really that bad?”

It doesn’t leave him feeling particularly threatened, though. Genji’s never been a threat, and they were on roughly the same side. Slowly, he lowers his rifle, setting back into a resting position; still able to be used just in case, but not active.

Mostly, he’s just mad it was that easy to see through him.

The old man’s voice was different. It was more gruff and more grave than the authoritative tone Genji was once used to hear barking in his earpiece. He relaxed and turned around as soon as the gun was pointed away, letting a satisfied chuckle slip.

“It was just a hunch, really. But I have to thank you for confirming it.”

“I have some idea of what it feels like to fake your own death and to keep your real name a secret. This would be one thing on which I have more experience than you or the captain, apparently.”

He would gladly have elaborated on what he just said, explain how he began suspecting 76 might not be a complete stranger ever since he came face to face with the real Shrike, but it looked like this story would have to wait. There was some movement inside the suspected Talon outpost. Lights being turned on, people rushing about... Clearly not the best conditions for some spying.

The green light of the ninja’s helmet flickered off and he pulled the soldier by his wrist, beckoning him to follow him deeper in the streets where no light could reach.

“We will have all the time in the world to speak somewhere else.” He said in a whisper. “Do you know a place where we won’t be bothered? I haven’t really had the opportunity to look for a safe spot myself.”

[allfatherblessed-deactivated202]

Their timing is impeccable, really. Finding him just before the storm starts, they share what little info they can give as they push through the snow. “Your thanks is appreciated but unnecessary.” They assure him, “I like to think most would do the same. These storms are unforgiving. The strength we have in overcoming them lies within helping one another.” Noticing how the wind starts to pick up, they favor silence as they hurry the rest of the distance home.

Once they arrive at their home, the storm starts in earnest, wind howling as it yanks both the door and window shutters open. Allowing Genji to enter first, they close the door behind the two of them and bolt it shut, preventing the wind from blowing it open again. Flicking a light on, they exchange their boots for indoor slippers, as not to track snow everywhere. “I am surprised you were sent out here alone. It is dangerous out here this time of year,” they remark with the curious tilt of the head. “If I did not know better, I would think you were purposefully trying to cross paths. Is Overwatch in such dire need of members that you are now recruiting hermits?”

[acceptedmyself]

The walk through the snow was getting rougher by the minute, and Genji could feel a dash of fatigue weight his legs down as much as the numbness that came from the cold.

When they finally arrived, he let out an audible sigh of relief. He imitated his host in removing his boots (and the part of his leg armor supporting them) upon entering, and he immediately allowed himself to go crouch in front of the closest space heater. He did not need to feel the temperatures to know the scarce flesh left on him needed it.

“I have been living with my Master in the Himalayas for a few years now. I think I can handle great colds better than most of my colleagues. As for the reason I came alone, you may call it a personal preference.” He told the other. “This is my first time having to deal with a snowstorm this extreme, though. I do not know how you do it.”

“It is true we are currently short-staffed, but pushing you to join us was never my intention, and you have made it clear enough we could be allies. Rest assured I won’t pester you with any unnecessary request.”

[copiied]

(promo) can you truly call yourself an Ana roleplayer until you make a dramatic comeback after disappearing for two years? probably, but that’s what I did anyway.

hi, i’m woody, coming at you with a brand new remade blog (I forgot the email to the old one :’) but if you want a glimpse of my writing, it’s here!) for a canon-compliant ANA AMARI. indie, private, mun is 25+ (she/her). 

[acceptedmyself]

OH MY GOD WOODY I MISSED YOU SO MUCH

[bulletwalk-deactivated20221007]

@acceptedmyself​ sent: “What’s done in the dark will be brought to the light” / johnny cash meme

“I hate t’break it to ya’ ━ but my record’s already baskin’ in the light of a 65 million dollar bounty.” A shrug is offered to him, crimson hues settling with caution. “Now exactly what else is it y’think you KNOW about me, cyborg?” 

[acceptedmyself]

“To be honest, I do not know a lot. Mostly bits and pieces I heard from a certain mutual friend of ours. He often speaks of you after going a little too hard on the bottle. It does sound like he envied your cocktail mixing skills.”

“You seem very well-informed yourself. Most people just assume I am an Omnic upon meeting me for the first time.”