The one thing that drives me absolutely insane about Kumoshin is that he will not accept help from people. Only if it's dire, and even then he hates it. He's been seen as a caretaker since he excelled in his training quickly enough to go solo in his second year. So that's earned him a lot of cash presumably. Helped his gramps into an early retirement so he can do what he enjoys. Taking care of the siblings when he's there. Honestly Kumoshin had been more like a father figure than a brother.
So asking/needing help for him is awkward. He feels he can't ask because he's the "caretaker" for everyone else. He should be able to manage his stuff by himself, right? Even if needing help is perfectly fine, he feels as if he's a giant failure if he asks for help.
As much as Kumo tries shoving his stuff into the closet, someone is bound to open the door at some point. Struggling with a sprained ankle? Walk it off. Fractured ribs? Oof, but we chill. Feeling nasty from his technique? Ginger should be enough 👍
It'll take a lot for him to feel comfortable enough with someone to ask for help. But even then, he'd still be ashamed of asking in the first place.
(drawing meme) ✍ only if you want! And you can choose!
Hi there! @elysian-noctuary You've been waiting for a long time!
So here is Kumoshin Namiiki! It's a rough drawing, but I hope I portray him well in his jujutsu sorcerer uniform!
Let me know what you thinK!
Training is training. Even if Panko wasn't quite sure how to handle cursed speech, better to do it in a safer environment, right? Either way, he agrees with her plea. With a gentle nod of his head, Inumaki murmured "release," before zipping his mouth cover back together.
Stepping back for some distance, Inumaki felt it necessary to let her throw the first punch, kick, technique- whatever the case may be, he can lead her on a goose chase with his swift and nimble movements. Not only does he not know what Panko is capable of, he can't recall what technique she has. Something with candy? That seems right. But what it does, he isn't sure. The best time to find out is with trial and error. If he gets his ass handed to him, so be it. It'll be good practice for both of them!
Oh, sweet movement! Panko shook out her arms and legs to get some feeling back into them, curling her fingers a few times before she huffed to herself and squared her shoulders. She didn't think Inumaki would agree to release her that easily, but now that she's been given this chance, she won't let herself squander it! She wouldn't put herself in these positions without good reason, after all!
Now, Panko wondered what went through his head. Was he expecting her to rush in for a punch? A hearty kick? Was he anticipating the immediate use of her cursed technique. It might've been the latter... she usually started using her technique before even going in whenever she was sent off on a mission. With ideas on what Inumaki was capable of beyond cursed speech dim at best, perhaps playing into expectations for now would be the best course of action.
She reached for her hip, tsked to herself when she realized that, in her "pep-talking" she wound up not making a chain of konpeito on the way to the field, and quickly remedied this, a long, narrow, colorful chain appearing in her hand. She tied part of that chain into a loop, spun it around, and flung it at him, intending to catch him, draw him in, and engage in hand-to-hand combat from there.
Just as he expected. The chain that appeared in her hands has the smell of sugar. Being a fairly good baker makes him want to call off the match and eat the chain. Would it be weird if he tried biting it? At least once?
And just like that, Inumaki was going into lala land. The sickeningly sweet chain grew closer and closer to his arm- yoink! He pulled back his arm and jumped away. It won't be that easy, Panko. He jogged lightly in place on the balls of his feet. Warming up to get this show started! Can't be day dreaming about the candy now, even if the scent is quite delectable.
With a lilt in his tone, Inumaki states "salmon roe," with a thumbs up. Even if Panko didn't get the chain to connect, he wants to encourage his underclassmen to keep trying! But it's also just as fun to tease them- with good intentions, of course.
Arms, legs, back, and check your supply. Sparring with an assigned partner was on the training menu for today, and for once, Panko's confidence was on a level that would've bordered on uncharacteristic of her if she hadn't tempered it beforehand. She had some new tricks up her sleeve she wanted to test out, and her partner seemed like a nice enough guy. Once she got the blood flowing, she scanned the forming crowd and gave a Over here! wave once she spotted him. | @elysian-noctuary sc.
There have been a few times Denaza had the pleasure of speaking with Panko- and he doesn't want to do this, at all. Although sparring is supposed to help with getting better, it's the volatile nature of his technique he isn't too keen on. Stray veins crashing into any conductors, static in the air, and sparks flying as electric bonds light each other sky high. Despite it all, he is terrified in using it against allies. But that's what the practice is for... right? To have better control so it isn't so wild and uncontrollable. Better hop to it now before it's too late!
With a hefty sigh of relief, the internal pep talk made some sort of improvement. A quirked grin and small wave back to Panko as he approaches his current partner. Dressed in his uniform, gloves slipped over his forearms, and other items stuffed into his duffle back in case it is needed. There is an arrangement of creams, ice packs, snacks, and medication if needed- for both of them of course. Or... anyone passing by who might get struck by accident. Better to be safe than sorry!
"Hey, Umeboshi-san. I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."
Tagging: @chunibyo-x-sorcerer (for anyone on your blogs tbh) @weavewithin @moonlight-borealis @altarbled @paramythas (Gwen!) and anyone else who would like to do this!
KUMO - Dandelion
You grew up too fast and all you know is the calluses on your fists and the thousand invisible scars that you pretend don't ache. Your anger burns so bright, so hot or maybe not at all, so deep you could never tell it was there. You are yours and you will defend that to the death after so many years of being ripped apart and denied your own agency and maybe you are still facing the bastards who stole your innocence but you will survive because that's the only thing you know how to do without breaking, the only thing you know besides protect, protect, protect, protect, yourself or sometimes those few others you claim as yours. You are a thousand sharp edges but impenetrable, a traumatized child so covered by thorny armor that you promised yourself you're grown now, you're stronger than anyone who has ever hurt you. You're safe. Nothing will ever hurt you again. You're so alone though sometimes, in a world that sees you as too much or too broken or too angry or too hurt, and you want to scream with the too-much of it, prove that you're okay, that you're self-reliant, that you are strong enough to stake your claim on your body, on your mind, on your heart, on your people, and protect it from any who dare take it away from you. You are the sea in tempest, a howling sky, a tsunami in motion, a force of nature, no matter how much you sometimes yearn to be still, to be safe, to be small. You are a dandelion, stubborn and determined to grow in the rockiest of soil, and bloom again in spring.
DENAZA - Thyme
Anxiety is your middle name. You need to check in with other people or beliefs when you take a step because the world is dark and you are so small, so fragile, and you've been hurt so many times before. You were bullied or hurt before, by people you trusted or people you loved, and despite all that you find yourself stumbling into other people, into bandaged trust because all you want is to be secure, loved, safe, supported. But maybe instead you long to be loved, long to find solace in the arms of someone else but can't bare to draw near enough to anyone long enough to feel safe and ache, ache, ache for company. The world is dark and you're so lonely it hurts sharper than any wound. How can you trust when it's all be shattered so many times before? How do you trust yourself when you've let so many in? You are a thousand contradictions, a thousand bits and pieces picked up along the way and maybe even this doesn't sound right, maybe nothing sounds right. You are so lonely and so afraid and you just want to be safe. Secure. Loved. You're so tired of being afraid.
SHAKUYA - Basil
You wear a thousand masks and you claim them all. You say they are all you, all parts of you but some of them you picked up when you needed to be brave, some you picked up when you failed because you were yourself, some of them you picked up because you needed to be stronger for someone smaller, better for someone bigger, useful for someone crueler, and you can't help but desperately scramble for first place, for usefulness, to prove you're worth keeping around, to prove you're the best, to prove you're good enough, valuable, enough. You just want someone to tell you you're enough. You strive for success, to be a role model, to take the lead, to be someone everyone loves, someone who can't fall, someone who can't be hurt the way you were once, the way you're running from even now. Sometimes you just want someone to hold your hand and let you spill all your broken fragments outward but you know you could never let it go. The only thing holding you together some days is the image of perfection and success and security and the worst part is that everyone else needs you to never falter either because you so often are the one holding everyone together too. You can't help but wonder if your emotions are ever your own, if you are just an actor in a life that's not your own, if you were cursed to be a mannequin, a doll, from the moment you were born and placed into a life where you were a child meant to be seen, not heard, to perform, not live, and the jealousy the injustice or the pain is fueled into masks as you take the world by storm.
KIYOKI - Mint
The world is a puzzle, so complex and multifaceted that you long to run your hands through the tapestry of its wonders and stay there forever, lost in the threads and colors and stories. You wish to stay there forever and you tell yourself it's to know the world but maybe it's not, maybe it's a fear that you're not enough, that you're so fragile and helpless in a world that moves too fast, to sharply, too many bright, painful colors that you stay locked inside your mind and thoughts, where you decide the tempo of your world, where you can grow and be as competent, as capable as you want, where the world is as wide as you can imagine it and never out of control unless you want it to be. Your shield is your knowledge, your mind, and you never feel ready enough for the world around you, never feel prepared enough, never safe, and you wonder if things could have been different, if you could have been better, happier, more like everyone else if you'd just known what you know now.