(formerly unshackled-instinct) Independent and semi-selective Iori Yagami (King of Fighters) RP/ask blog, with Mature and Vice as guest muses. Please read the rules before interacting with the muse. Minors and self-shippers DNI. This is a sideblog, so I will follow you from grievers-gunblade (which is my main blog). Mun is 30+.
Since a lot of people will be viewing this blog via mobile, I figured that I should make a pinned post so it will be easier for them to access.
(Rules are under the cut.)
1. The mun is over the age of 30, so I am comfortable with doing violent and sexual RPs. (Addendum: this blog is 18+, so no minors allowed. If you are underage, this will result in an instant block. No exceptions).
2. I do not put triggers on my posts, as the muse is a violent, rude, and sadistic individual. NSFW posts, however, will be tagged with content warnings. If you are too squeamish to handle violence, blood, and gore, then you shouldn't follow this blog.
3. Do not take anything Iori says or does personally. He is just a fictional character. Also, bear in mind that Iori will not immediately befriend and/or fall for your muse. If your muse annoys him enough, he can (and will) cause harm to your muse. Your muse may end up being severely injured, or - worse - dead.
4. I don't mind OCs (as long as they're not Mary Sues/Gary Stus/self-inserts). If it's blatantly obvious that your OC is a self-insert/Mary Sue/Gary Stu, consider yourself blocked. I'm not here to be your body pillow. RP is a collaborative hobby, first and foremost.
5. Crossovers are fine as well (as long as they make sense, such as characters from another fighting game series such as Street Fighter or Tekken, or if they have a similar temperament to Iori like Eddie Brock/Venom from Marvel or Hiei from Yu Yu Hakusho).
6. Do not rope me into smut or ships without my consent. That will also result in an instant block. Also, no self-shippers allowed.
6a. I don't do OC x Canon ships (unless if it is under very special circumstances), x reader ships, or yaoi stuff.
6b. I DO NOT SHIP IORI WITH KYO. I cannot stress this enough, so please do not force me into that ship.
7. No godmodding.
8. Please do not bring up anything about politics/social justice/current events in our threads, as this is strictly an RP/ask blog. Remember, there is a time and place for everything.
9. I will only write Miss X sparingly, as I don't want to attract creepy fetishists towards my blog.
10. Do not reblog a thread unless if you are one of the parties involved.
MOONSTONE — an icon border template by lightlysources
the round icon is 100px, the square one is 80px. edit as much as you like! everything is labeled in the psd folders. font used for the bracket version is georgia. please reblog/like if you download.
Send one or more emojis ( + descriptions ) for the kind of ship/dynamic you’d like to write with my muse! ( for multimuses, please specify. )
ROMANTIC
❤️ committed, romantic relationship
💘 friends to lovers
💔 used to be together but broke up
❣️ skinny love
💗 slow burn
💌 one muse has a crush on the other muse
💕 mutual pining
💝 romantic relationship of convenience
🏫 highschool sweethearts
💒 arranged relationship ( dating, engagement, political, etc. )
💋 one-sided romantic relationship ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
🖤 lovers to enemies
🤍 enemies to lovers
SEXUAL
💖 a sexual relationship that could turn romantic
🧡 friends with benefits
👄 a sexual, non-romantic relationship
🏩 sexual relationship of convenience
🔥 unresolved sexual tension
💟 developing sexual relationship ( may include romance )
💞 one muse approaches the other out of convenience ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
🔪 enemies with sexual tension
FAMILIAL
👪 biological family
👨👩👧👦 adopted family
🧑🤝🧑 family by choice/found family
👩👧 older/younger siblings
👭 twins
👥 cousins or extended family
👣 estranged family/feuding family
👨🏫 one muse is a teacher/mentor for the other muse ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
🚸 coworkers like family
🟡 family out of circumstance
⚪ pretending to be family
PLATONIC
💜 friendship
💙 queerplatonic partners ( an intimate, non-romantic committed relationship )
💚 friends like siblings
💛 childhood friends
💧 friends due to traumatic experiences
🤝 coworkers
⛔ reluctant friends
✅ enemies to friends
🌈 developing friendship
☀️ friends of circumstance
👔 strangers working together
☕ one muse works in service of the other ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
🕴 partners in illegal activities
👯partners in crime trope
⚡ sparring partners
🩹 friends forced to work against each other
🟥 one muse makes a deal or contract with the other ( magic or non-magic. ) ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
ENEMIES
🦴 mortal enemies
💀 enemies
⚔️ rivalry
🗡️ one-sided rivalry/grudge ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
🧠 enemies as narrative foils
💬 enemies because of conflicting ideologies
🤫 one muse is secretly an enemy/traitor to the other muse ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
😨 one muse is using the other muse for their benefit ( specify which muse, Sender or Receiver )
❌ guilty by association
🚫 friends to enemies
🪓 occupational enemies
🩸 enemies tolerating each other for a common goal
⚫ enemies using each other out of convenience
⬜ coworkers who hate each other
As a roleplayer going on 20 years, for people whose entire "thing" is reading and writing, roleplayers on tumblr sure love making all their fucking pages in all-caps, SO EVERYTHING READS LIKE THIS, EVEN PARAGRAPHS ON PARAGRAPHS OF IMPORTANT INFO INCLUDING RULES PAGES AND DOSSIERS, SO IT BECOMES EXHAUSTING TO READ FOR LONGER THAN FIVE SECONDS. THERE IS A REASON THAT WRITING IN ALL-CAPS IS CONSIDERED PISS-POOR FOR LEGIBILITY AND ACCESSIBILITY, AND IS SO FROWNED UPON IT EVEN ANNOYS PEOPLE WITHOUT ACCESSIBILITY REQUIREMENTS. YOU MIGHT AS WELL WRITE THINGS UPSIDE-DOWN. PLEASE STOP, I BEG.
"I bleed easy."
"I feel cold…"
"I'll bleed you dry."
"I don't feel so good."
"Your blood's so warm…"
"That's… a lot of blood."
"I can't feel my arm/leg."
"There's beauty in blood."
"Ugh, another nose bleed."
"Please help me, please…"
"Oh god, what happened here."
"What do I do? What do I do?"
"Those bruises look terrible!"
"Take it out and you're dead."
"Ugh… the stench of blood…"
"I like my meat bleeding rare."
"It's not as bad as it looks…"
"Oh god, oh god… I'm bleeding."
"I'll drink your blood like wine."
"Let me see how bad it is, please."
"You're getting blood everywhere."
"Ugh… my clothes are glued to me."
"You look like you've been run over."
"It looks worse than it is, I promise."
"Hold your head up and pinch your nose."
"You're bleeding through your bandages."
"Keep applying pressure, just like that."
"There's an art to making someone bleed."
"Can you check if I bled through my pants?"
"Maybe a busted lip could fix that attitude."
"No, you're not fine, you nearly bled out!"
"Can't believe I slipped in a blood pool…"
"You tore your stitches open, let me fix it."
"Mind the blood on the floor, try not to slip."
"No, you don't get it; if I see blood, I faint."
"You were careless. You left blood at the scene."
"I'll gut you like a fish and watch you bleed out."
"This is going to hurt, but bleeding out is worse."
"What happened in here?! Did someone explode?"
"Don't touch me, you got blood all over your hands."
"Stop moving for a second, let me staunch the bleed."
"You'll make a pretty picture splattered over the room."
"I can't stand blood - it's so hard to get out of clothes."
"Drip by drip… I'll watch the light fade from your eyes."
"Don't close your eyes, look at me okay? You need to stay awake."
"Don't move or I'll slit your throat. We don't want that. Not yet."
"I watched enough cop shows to know something horrible happened here."
"You never forget your first kill, the smell of iron that follows you home."
"Can you feel it…? The weight on your chest, the shallowness of every heartbeat?"
"The bleeding's internal, so that's good. That's where blood is supposed to be I think."
"What part of bed rest didn't you understand? If you sneeze too hard you'll open your wounds again!"
"There's something very appealing about someone disheveled and covered in blood, I can't help myself."
This is the start of a new translation: the first book of the KOF'97 novel by Akihiko Ureshino.
The chapters are a lot longer than Stray Dog's, so I'm going to share it scene by scene to keep a more frequent posting schedule. When a chapter is completed, I'll compile everything into a single PDF.
Hope you enjoy this translation. Thank you all for your support!!
The PROLOGUE has been translated by Miau.
--
PROLOGUE. Demented Rain.
Rain.
The asphalt covered by a film of water looked like a mirror, distorting the reflection of shapes and street lights with a dull gleam.
The falling rain was lukewarm.
Countless raindrops fell on the deserted road where the occasional beam of a vehicle’s headlights passed by, accompanied by the sound of an exhaust.
The rain was heavy, warm and thick like stagnant oil. There was no knowing when it would stop, and it absorbed the effluvia of the living beast that was the city.
The rain’s pattering filled the air around him, but the young man didn’t carry an umbrella, and seemed unbothered by the rain soaking his tall frame.
He wasn’t an adult man quite yet; rather, he was a youth of around twenty years of age, 1.80 meters tall, and red hair, the color of half-dried blood. His intense gaze animated a face that was as pale as wax, and his handsome facial features had a terrible, unapproachable air. His shoulders were wide and his body slim. He wore a short black jacket, a long dress shirt, and red cotton pants.
He was a strange sight.
His appearance alone would make him immediately stand out in a crowd. But he also gave off a sense of madness that came from inside and took away the breath of anyone who looked at him.
‘Mad’ was an appropriate word to describe him.
The headlights of the vehicles passing by lit up his profile intermittently as he continued walking with his gaze fixed ahead, under the unpleasant summer rain.
“Ha, ha, ha!”
Out of nowhere, a woman’s laugh mixed with the sound of rain.
The young man narrowed his eyes and stopped on the sidewalk, under the circle of light casted by a lamppost.
“So it is Yagami… Iori Yagami. Ha, ha, ha.”
The voice calling his name was thick and feminine, and spoke very close to his ear.
Suddenly, a slender arm slid over and around his chest. It was the delicate arm of a woman, with nails painted red, like rose petals.
“Yagami, what are you doing here?”
A beautiful woman with thick blonde hair and blue eyes was embracing the young man called Iori Yagami from behind. She paid no mind to her exposed skin, as white as a corpse’s, and reached out with her hand to touch Iori’s cold cheek.
Leaning closer to Iori’s ear, the blonde woman whispered in a lascivious tone:
“Kyo Kusanagi still lives, doesn’t he? Then, why are you here?”
She had a bewitching tone of voice, capable of making a man forget about the strangeness of coming across a beautiful naked woman in the middle of a street, during a rainy night.
However, Iori remained unfazed, and he merely looked down at his feet.
There, he saw a second naked figure.
It was a striking brunette woman with short hair, who smiled mockingly, clinging to Iori’s leg.
“What? You haven’t killed Kyo Kusanagi?”
The question brimmed with sarcasm.
“Your hatred was not enough?”
Iori remained silent.
“After repeating over and over again that you would kill Kyo. In the end… you didn’t?
Both women mocked Iori, wriggling their bodies around him in a way that was almost obscene. Both of them looked like human beings, but they moved like reptiles.
Iori said nothing, but an increasingly enraged glow filled his eyes. He struck with his right arm, as if trying to get the blonde woman off him.
“Uohh!”
The back hand strike would have been enough to send two people flying. But there was no sign of a woman lying on the sidewalk under the rain, just a large dent on the lamppost next to Iori. The woman who had been at his feet was gone too.
A hallucination?
Iori had tried to strike down someone who wasn’t there?
It didn’t matter anymore.
“I don’t need specters giving me lectures”, muttered Iori, pushing back strands of wet hair. He seemed to be suppressing a tremor in his voice. He leaned against the lamppost and lowered his head. A second later, he was coughing.
His shoulders shook with the violent coughing fit, and red drops fell to the ground.
He started vomiting blood.
“Kyo…”
The light above flickered, probably because of the damage received.
Without wiping the blood from his lips, Iori looked up toward the sky, hidden by the storm clouds.
“Kyo… Before losing all my blood, I’ll make sure that not a drop of yours remains in this world. I’ll kill you.”
The capricious, nightmarish clouds parted slightly and the crimson curve of the crescent moon shone through.
Iori yelled, gazing at the reddish glow above him:
“I have no desire for anything, except your death! I hate you more than my own blood. I hate your face, your image, your voice, your existence!”
As he yelled, spitting blood, his lips curved into a manic smile.
The fingers of his right hand, which were holding on to the lamppost for support, sank on the metal with terrifying strength.
“The only thing I want is to take your life! I’ll end you, Kyo!”
Iori laughed toward the sky, his lips taking the shape of the red crescent moon.
The laugh that echoed in the rain and mixed with the monotonous sound of the raindrops was an indescribably hollow and miserable laugh.
--
Chapter 1 - The Last Summer
That night, a man of unremarkable appearance stepped out of the Sheraton Hotel in Tsim Sha Tsui. After receiving a polite farewell from the hotel staff, he disappeared into the Hong Kong night.
At first glance, he did not look like an overseas tourist. His fair blond hair and ice-blue eyes marked him as unmistakably Anglo-Saxon, yet his black leather pants and jumper gave him an almost casually local air. He appeared to be around thirty, but there was a sharpness in his eyes and a faintly rough edge to his demeanor.
He headed north, moving through the ceaseless nighttime bustle.
Named after Sir Matthew Nathan, the thirteenth governor of Hong Kong, Nathan Road is the city’s most crowded district. Lined with luxury boutiques and renowned hotels, it serves as the main artery of the Kowloon Peninsula. To an outsider, the scene of locals and tourists brushing past one another beneath glowing neon signs, while double-decker buses rumble by, is the very image of Hong Kong itself.
The man, however, seemed entirely indifferent to it all. With his hands buried in his jacket pockets, he walked with the easy nonchalance of a local.
He passed a multi-tenant building made famous by a stylish film released a few years earlier, and ignored Tsim Sha Tsui station altogether. Instead, he continued the full kilometer to Jordan station, where he finally turned off the main road and headed west.
If Nathan Road still bears traces of the former British Empire’s splendor, then the western area around Temple Street represents its opposite. Predating Nathan Road itself, it has long been one of the district’s most distinctly Chinese neighborhoods and continues to function as a quintessential Chinatown today. Crowded with stalls selling men’s clothing, miscellaneous goods, and fresh seafood, it has in recent years become a popular destination for foreign tourists.
Yet even here, the man’s presence felt subtly out of place.
