き・せ・か・え♡

roleplay blog for Midare Toushirou of Touken Ranbu. affiliated with citta. rank - emissary. district beta.

[koichihase]

CONGRATS ON UR ANIME DEBUT

[midareba-blog]

“Hey, you!” Midare gestures to a basket filled to the brim with water balloons, his damp golden hair clinging to his face in dripping-wet strands.

“Wanna play?”

[damekatana-blog]

@midareba

It felt nicer than he had expected, holding his real body again. It was bittersweet, though, what with the city falling apart… again.

But hey, that’s what swords like him were meant for, right?

“…oi, Dare-chan. You still itchin’ to go fight those things?”

The other tantou didn’t need to know he had found some purpose behind leaving the relative safety of the manor to fight. Not like he probably cared, anyway.

[midareba-blog]

Everything went to shit once those cocoons opened up, but at least that was well within the realm of expectation. Midare swats aside the remainders of a charred bush with the point of his boot, then turns to grin over his shoulder at Fudou.

“Sure! We should make a game out of it, though,” he suggests. “Whoever wreaks the most havoc wins!”

[kashiwade-deactivated20160917]

Far be it from him to contradict Midare, especially with that strange light in the tantou’s eyes. Issei does not say anything, for a moment, choosing instead to watch Midare with careful attention.

He always comes back to him, right?

‘… is that what this is about?’ he asks. That goes unspecified, but what he means isn’t so hard to guess.

The first sign of danger, and his swords seem over-eager to prove themselves.

He shifts his shoulders, a little. ‘– even if I stay here, you’ll want to go out, won’t you.’

[midareba-blog]

Isn’t it always about that? Midare beams at the Saniwa, but even with his eyes shining so brightly, there’s a twinge of sadness to his aura -- because he knows what he must do, and it pains him to leave his Master behind.

“You know me so well, Aruji-san!” He rests his forehead against Issei’s, and it feels a little bit like an apology. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll come back soon, and I’ll bring you back a present!”

[kashiwade-deactivated20160917]

When they are not meant for decoration, tantou are suited for battle – indoor battle, typically, much like the wakizashi worn by samurai. Uchigatana are abandoned at the entrance of a castle; tantou are not. It is their duty to stay by their master’s side, unquestioning, rarely unsheathed but in the most dire of moments.

And yet – Midare’s voice calls out to them while they are still safe.

‘Do you plan to leave me?’ he returns.

His eyes jump to the tantou, eventually.

‘I wouldn’t like that.’

[midareba-blog]

Aruji-san is honest about his feelings, and it makes Midare smile, though a hint of sadness tugs within his chest. He turns to face the Saniwa fully, reaching up to fiddle with his red scarf; once it’s adjusted more to his liking, Midare brushes aside a few locks of that silky-white hair. His clear-lacquered nails glint in the dim light of the mansion’s doorway.

“I know,” he says, both slender arms bearing down to rest against Issei’s bony shoulders. “But I always come back to you, right?” There’s something playfully catlike in his expression, but his gaze holds firm. “I’m Master’s Midare Toushirou. You can’t go anywhere without me!”

[midareba-blog]

@kashiwade

Midare could see the tip of the cocoon from the mansion’s windows. There were people gathering around its base, he was certain, because he’d passed them on his way here; something large and wicked was brewing, and the city had become ensnared by a net of tension in response. Even the summertime songbirds had fallen uncomfortably silent.

“Aruji-san,” he called out, half-turning from the window with an atypically serious expression. “I want to protect you.” His hand tightened around the tantou that hung from his waistline. “Will you let me?”

[designohr-blog]

There was the silence and Forrest was - for a moment - afraid that he had insulted the other person, or that they were about to insult him for being a man in his dress, but then he suddenly starts with his name.

There’s another second where he’s terrified that he’s become what he’s faced so many times, that he’s forgotten someone from home.

“Oh… Oh, you met Father -” oh, thank the Gods. “It’s nice to meet you, Midare. How lucky that we met, then! Their skintone is similar to mine - I’d hate to wash them out - though, of course, you understand that, almost certainly!”

[midareba-blog]

Forrest calls his dad ‘Father?’ Humans could be so cute! Midare beamed at his new friend, perfectly content with how their introductions had unfolded. (And to think some of the other swords were concerned about his social skills! He was just fine, right?)

“Hmm...~ Well, you do have really pretty skin! You’re like a doll or something.” He perused the shelves intently, his thumb thoughtfully rubbing at his pointed chin. “Well, what are you planning to make? If it’s something like a skirt or a dress, some patterns look better than others... But if it’s a shirt or a gown, that’s totally different!”

[midareba-blog]

“Huh. I feel stronger all of the sudden...”

Nevermind the gigantic mutant cocoon that just slammed into the ground; there are more interesting natters at hand! Midare tests out his nearly-returned powers by taking off into a wild sprint, the tails of his dress flailing behind him as he runs.

[informationpurge]

“You look like you did well, Midare,” Ichigo says with pride.

The pride lasts only as long as it takes Ichigo to see the tear in Midare’s clothes.

“We need to get you to repairs immediately…”

[midareba-blog]

Midare wants to joke that he’ll only go if Ichigo carries him, but he knows how much his brother worries, so he decides against it. Instead, he flicks the blood from his blade and shows it proudly; there’s only the slightest tarnish against the steel.

“I don’t need any repairs, Ichi-nii,” he insists. “It’s only a little mark, see?”

[midareba-blog]

“Hey, is anyone else getting attacked by random people? Just wondering.”

He wipes a smear of red from his cheek, sanguine tones dripping from the edge of his tantou. There’s a rip in his dress where a tiny spot of blood is welling up -- nothing too bad, considering the ‘other guys’ probably had it worse.

[designohr-blog]

@midareba

Those here dressed so plainly - it had its benefits, of course, but Forrest would lie if he said he didn’t grow excited whenever he saw someone who dressed and looked as he did. The fabrics in front of him, to him, seemed largely the same, when he analyzed the cost-benefits of each.

“Excuse me,” at the very least, he was fairly certain he could trust the fashion advice of the stranger. “I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me pick which fabric you like better? I’m intending to use it to make a loose fitting garment and I’m struck by sudden indecision.”

[midareba-blog]

Helping with fabrics was one thing, but there was something about this ‘stranger’ that gave Midare a moment’s pause. The fancy state of dress, that familiar face-shape... Hadn’t he just heard of someone fitting this description? It took him a few beats of silence, but his face soon broke out into a grin of clarity.

“You’re Forrest, aren’t you? I know your dad!” Probably not the most seamless of introductions, but he was too excited to actually make sense. “Here, let’s see... Um, I think a solid color would be better, right? Something bright! -- My name is Midare, by the way. Your dad told me that we should be friends!”

Nailed it.

[midareba-blog]

“Okay, pucker up!”

It’s his time to shine.

[pearlfectionate-deactivated2020]

“Well, there’s plenty more than that…  Increased durability, speed, shapeshifting, no obligation to sleep or eat, a drastically lengthened lifespan…” As she talks, Pearl ticks her list off on her fingers, before pausing.

“Well, regardless of all that, if there’s one thing we all share, it’s that we don’t deserve to be hurt or shunned for simply being who we are.”

[midareba-blog]

“... I was talking more about attitude than, like, physical stuff, but I guess we’re on the same page anyway.”

“It’s weird, though, right? Like, all of us want to survive more than anything else, but some people go out of their way to kill everyone that’s different -- and then they brag about it!” Spoken as if Midare hasn’t bragged about his own kills in the past. “I don’t get it. Being different doesn’t hurt anybody, so why bother?”

[tomokiri-blog]

       ❪ ♚ ❫ The several questions that come his way are somewhat amusing; it’s a good thing he seems to be so interested, and the questions whether or not his son was human wasn’t all very impressive either ( for all he knows, many in this city weren’t human, and even his own two elder siblings, Corrin and Kamui, weren’t ). It’s strangely exciting, too, because where he failed with Forrest, he wished not to with this stranger.

       ❝ He is human, yes, as I am. ❞ The more personal questions about Forrest upset Leon the slightest bit when he realizes he needs to think before answering, scared of the possibility of either not knowing the answer or getting it wrong. What kind of father would he be if he didn’t know his own son’s preferences? ❝ He… tends to wear a lot of pink, but he seems to like bright colors a lot. Especially pastel ones. He does live in the city yes; in a district, if I’m not wrong. I think the both of you would get along fairly well. He would be enchanted to meet you. ❞

[midareba-blog]

Sounds like a beautiful new friendship was awaiting him! The tantou smiled vibrantly at Leon, his excitement evident in the rocking of his feet from heeled boot to pointed toe.

“When are you gonna introduce me?” That was rather presumptuous, especially since they had yet to introduce themselves to one another -- but those were minute details, as far as this youkai was concerned. “My name is Midare Toushirou, by the way! I live in Sector oo6.” Technically he still lived in District Beta, but again, minute details didn’t matter. “What’s your name? And your son’s, too!”

[tomokiri-blog]

       ❪ ♚ ❫ Regardless of whether one liked the staring or not ( he had thought, though, that those who did simply liked the attention ), it was nonetheless rude of the prince. He does not mean to, and would rather not keep with the act, even with the agreement with the other.

       ❝ You must hear that often, but no, not this time. ❞ He didn’t even have a girlfriend, after all, even if he did have a son. ❝ You remind me of my son, Forrest. He likes to dress just like you, too. ❞

[midareba-blog]

Now that was interesting. Midare placed his outfit of choice back onto the clothing rack, his eyebrows raising in evident surprise.

“Human boys don’t usually dress like this,” he pointed out in a tone that did little to disguise his intrigue. “Is he human, or is he something else?” But what, there’s more “And what colors does he like? Does he live in the city? Where is he?”

You’ve caught yourself a live one, Leon.

[tomokiri-blog]

       ❝ Ah– I have been staring, have I not? ❞

       It’s a bit awkward, though the prince is the one to catch himself in the action. It was not often ( it was, in fact, rather rare ) that he saw one with similar tastes than Forrest. It took him a while to notice the person in a ruffled skirt was a boy, and in more ways than one he reminded him of his son. For the longest while, Leon couldn’t help but think how good friends they would be if they ever met. ❝ I’m sorry, you simply remind me of someone I know. I didn’t mean to be rude. ❞

@midareba

[midareba-blog]

“You don’t have to stop staring, if you don’t want to. I like it!”

Such honesty would be refreshing if not for the tsukumogami’s mischievous expression. Of course, his words weren’t meant to harm the gawking stranger; he was feeling playful today, perhaps a bit more so than usual. There were some lovely articles of clothing for sale at this store, and the vast selection was doing wonders for his mood.

“Who do I look like? Your girlfriend?”

[dragcntamer-deactivated20171015]

 “Ah, so you were never really born with emotions than. Or rather, made    with emotions from the start.”

A long heavy pause. 

Research. But it has emotions. But what can you say, about the despair of actively being felt different, from birth? And not for what you did when you were a mere item?

  “Hm.”

[midareba-blog]

“I guess that depends on who you ask. Some people say that a good sword has a soul from the start... But other people think it takes about 100 years.”

“All I know is, having my own hands and feet is way more fun than having to be carried around!” He seems pretty happy about it, at least.