Crossposted from SV
-x-
Japan, the Country of Samurai.
That was, of course, twenty years...
-x-
Japan, the Country of Samurai.
That was, of course, twenty years...
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This is not Yorozuya! [Gintama Quest]
- Thread starter SoothingCoffee
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Chapter 0
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Crossposted from SV
-x-
Japan, the Country of Samurai.
That was, of course, twenty years ago; long before the Amanto—foreigners from the sky—visited Earth and achieved peace with the good old 'Superior Firepower' diplomacy. Truly, if the world is an RPG, the Amanto Ambassador would have had an infinite amount of Wisdom and Intelligence. Twenty years ago was also the time of samurai, where it was truly a badge worn with honor—unlike today; simply a mere title.
Chivalry is dead, some say. They can't be any further from the truth.
The Bakufu—Military Government—of course agreed with the Amanto, of course. Perhaps a tad too agreeing. The Joui Patriots weren't so compliant. Warriors and samurai gathered as one to fight the opposition that was the Amanto, and by proxy, the Bakufu. It wasn't long before what used to bePatriots was branded as traitors and rebels. Tokugawa Sadasada was the Shogun at the time, and with the help of Tendonshuu—the high council of Amanto—lay waste upon the traitors.
And in doing so, they created the infamous Four Heavenly King, but that is a story for another time. It goes without saying, of course, that the Joui Patriots lost. But lost doesn't mean broken.
Ever since the ten years civil war, the world has changed. The wave of change didn't come in a trickle, it came with a tsunami. Modern buildings that could scrape the sky, airships flitting here and fro without a care, engine-based vehicles, and more. The change wasn't natural. It was forced. It was a place that any gorilla with some skill with a brush would draw.
And then there's you, just a teenager, with a responsibility and turmoil bigger than your own head:
[X] The Heir of a Merchant Company, Sasagawa and Murakami Corporation—S&M Corp., to be short. Not to be confused by the actual you-know-what. It was supposedly owned by two sides, until one side died from some suspicious accident. Your father was simply too sentimental to change the name. Said father has also died recently of some suspicious as heck circumstance. You try not to think about the implication. Still! That means now you're not only the proud owner of the S&M Corp., but you're also the only practitioner of the family-grown Death-Defying Techniques. It wasn't quite death-defying and more death-facing in your father's hand, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?!
-[X] Male
-[] Female
[] The last practitioner of the Dancing God's School of Sword-fighting, and the proud new owner of its dojo. Kinda. Sorta. Only by technicality, to be honest. You're not even related to him, but Master had apparently decided otherwise and wrote your name into his Will... before he hung himself. You doubt he actually did it on his own; it probably has to do with those loan-sharks, but unless Detective Conan would suddenly investigate on your case, you doubt anything else would be unraveled. You're tempted to avenge him; unsheathe your sword and show them why it's called the Dancing God for a reason. But you're also aware that whoever managed to do thatMaster would be beyond your level, and you're not suicidal enough yet. Well, you suppose you can still try make Master proud by not making his suicide to be a vain... You simply hope that Master's debt won't carry on to you. Fat chance, that.
-[] Male
-[] Female
[] The twelfth out of fifteen children of the Megane Noble Family. You're basically a throwaway at this point, and unless your big brothers would suddenly go missing and found in a ditch a week later, they wouldn't care if you go missing or something. You're not quite sure whether if your father isextremely fertile, or if your mother is supremely masochistic. Probably both. There's currently a betting pot on what number they would stop spawning little babies; you're putting a thousand yen on twenty, if only for the even number. Anywho, you've received your hereditary pair of glasses for becoming an adult—16—and armed with knowledge befitting of a Lord. Not that you're going to be one of course, but it's nice knowing that you could manipulate dimwitted fools to do your bidding if you want to.
-[] Male
-[] Female
But of course, it's not all about you, yes? It's also about Edo. It's peaceful, but there's also the status quo hanging on a thin filament line. The Bakufu under the rule of the 14th Shogun, Tokugawa Shigeshige. But if you want to be more accurate, it would be safe to say that the one with the actual power is the former Shogun, Tokugawa Sadasada.
Threatening this status quo—or at least, trying to—are the remains of the Joui Patriots, who despite their losses, are still gathering power to topple the Bakufu. However, to every Joui Patriot in the street, there's a single Shinsengumi taking care of them. The Special Police Force originally made to hunt the Joui Patriots—though Rebels, would fit more.
Oh, they're also taking care of the crimes. They are also the police, after all.
But the question remains still: whose side do you belong?
[] The Joui Rebels
Status Quo can be good and all, but let's face it, it can also be the opposite. Status Quo stagnates, and even though the world doesn't know it, Japan is ruled by tyrants. Tyrants who would rather gorge themselves in power, and throw what's defecated of it over the citizens. The weak. This is why you support the Joui Rebels. The Bakufu is in severe need of reformation.
[] The Shinsengumi
Or the Law. They are the upholder of which are important to the society—you know that much. Without the Shinsengumi, Edo would most likely be in chaos. Well, more chaotic than now. It's not like the Shinsengumi is the most peaceful people, but at least they are true to their duty. You would not even lie that you idolize them a bit.
[X] Yourself
Choose a side? Why would you choose a side to begin with? Isn't it obvious? There's no side for you to choose because you've already chosen a side: yourself. You're your own man, and nothing is going to drag you down. Or up, left, right, diagonal or otherwise.
-x-
Japan, the Country of Samurai.
That was, of course, twenty years ago; long before the Amanto—foreigners from the sky—visited Earth and achieved peace with the good old 'Superior Firepower' diplomacy. Truly, if the world is an RPG, the Amanto Ambassador would have had an infinite amount of Wisdom and Intelligence. Twenty years ago was also the time of samurai, where it was truly a badge worn with honor—unlike today; simply a mere title.
Chivalry is dead, some say. They can't be any further from the truth.
The Bakufu—Military Government—of course agreed with the Amanto, of course. Perhaps a tad too agreeing. The Joui Patriots weren't so compliant. Warriors and samurai gathered as one to fight the opposition that was the Amanto, and by proxy, the Bakufu. It wasn't long before what used to bePatriots was branded as traitors and rebels. Tokugawa Sadasada was the Shogun at the time, and with the help of Tendonshuu—the high council of Amanto—lay waste upon the traitors.
And in doing so, they created the infamous Four Heavenly King, but that is a story for another time. It goes without saying, of course, that the Joui Patriots lost. But lost doesn't mean broken.
Ever since the ten years civil war, the world has changed. The wave of change didn't come in a trickle, it came with a tsunami. Modern buildings that could scrape the sky, airships flitting here and fro without a care, engine-based vehicles, and more. The change wasn't natural. It was forced. It was a place that any gorilla with some skill with a brush would draw.
And then there's you, just a teenager, with a responsibility and turmoil bigger than your own head:
[X] The Heir of a Merchant Company, Sasagawa and Murakami Corporation—S&M Corp., to be short. Not to be confused by the actual you-know-what. It was supposedly owned by two sides, until one side died from some suspicious accident. Your father was simply too sentimental to change the name. Said father has also died recently of some suspicious as heck circumstance. You try not to think about the implication. Still! That means now you're not only the proud owner of the S&M Corp., but you're also the only practitioner of the family-grown Death-Defying Techniques. It wasn't quite death-defying and more death-facing in your father's hand, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?!
-[X] Male
-[] Female
[] The last practitioner of the Dancing God's School of Sword-fighting, and the proud new owner of its dojo. Kinda. Sorta. Only by technicality, to be honest. You're not even related to him, but Master had apparently decided otherwise and wrote your name into his Will... before he hung himself. You doubt he actually did it on his own; it probably has to do with those loan-sharks, but unless Detective Conan would suddenly investigate on your case, you doubt anything else would be unraveled. You're tempted to avenge him; unsheathe your sword and show them why it's called the Dancing God for a reason. But you're also aware that whoever managed to do thatMaster would be beyond your level, and you're not suicidal enough yet. Well, you suppose you can still try make Master proud by not making his suicide to be a vain... You simply hope that Master's debt won't carry on to you. Fat chance, that.
-[] Male
-[] Female
[] The twelfth out of fifteen children of the Megane Noble Family. You're basically a throwaway at this point, and unless your big brothers would suddenly go missing and found in a ditch a week later, they wouldn't care if you go missing or something. You're not quite sure whether if your father isextremely fertile, or if your mother is supremely masochistic. Probably both. There's currently a betting pot on what number they would stop spawning little babies; you're putting a thousand yen on twenty, if only for the even number. Anywho, you've received your hereditary pair of glasses for becoming an adult—16—and armed with knowledge befitting of a Lord. Not that you're going to be one of course, but it's nice knowing that you could manipulate dimwitted fools to do your bidding if you want to.
-[] Male
-[] Female
But of course, it's not all about you, yes? It's also about Edo. It's peaceful, but there's also the status quo hanging on a thin filament line. The Bakufu under the rule of the 14th Shogun, Tokugawa Shigeshige. But if you want to be more accurate, it would be safe to say that the one with the actual power is the former Shogun, Tokugawa Sadasada.
Threatening this status quo—or at least, trying to—are the remains of the Joui Patriots, who despite their losses, are still gathering power to topple the Bakufu. However, to every Joui Patriot in the street, there's a single Shinsengumi taking care of them. The Special Police Force originally made to hunt the Joui Patriots—though Rebels, would fit more.
Oh, they're also taking care of the crimes. They are also the police, after all.
But the question remains still: whose side do you belong?
[] The Joui Rebels
Status Quo can be good and all, but let's face it, it can also be the opposite. Status Quo stagnates, and even though the world doesn't know it, Japan is ruled by tyrants. Tyrants who would rather gorge themselves in power, and throw what's defecated of it over the citizens. The weak. This is why you support the Joui Rebels. The Bakufu is in severe need of reformation.
[] The Shinsengumi
Or the Law. They are the upholder of which are important to the society—you know that much. Without the Shinsengumi, Edo would most likely be in chaos. Well, more chaotic than now. It's not like the Shinsengumi is the most peaceful people, but at least they are true to their duty. You would not even lie that you idolize them a bit.
[X] Yourself
Choose a side? Why would you choose a side to begin with? Isn't it obvious? There's no side for you to choose because you've already chosen a side: yourself. You're your own man, and nothing is going to drag you down. Or up, left, right, diagonal or otherwise.
Last edited:
Chapter 1
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Male Merchant and Yourself Won
-x-
The sky is beautiful to day—well, not really. If your eyes do not lie to you, the sky is actually brown; hickory brown, to be exact. Strange, but you suppose if the sky can go orange, why not go brown for once? Who knew that the sky is such a merchant daughter? Your head shifts, eyes blinking. On second thought, that's not the sky. That's actually the surface of your office desk; no wonder your face is sore right now.
You gurgle out a pitiful groan. You're still sixteen and you're already wasting your life. Next to you, the office's telephone burbles to life, drilling a digital tune down into your eardrums. You grumble underneath your breath, pulling out a miserable yawn as you push yourself up. Blindly, your hand presses the answer button.
"Ah, Sasagawa-san, have you finished your nap?" comes the smooth voice of your middle-aged secretary, Katsu Kimiko. Blessed with a great mind. Somewhat loyal. Not so much on the face factor.
You rub your eyes, scrubbing the sleep crusts off them. Truly, sleep crusts are life's cruelest enemies. They are like microscopic assassins, trying to blind you one sleep at a time. "I have," you answer, urging down the want to yawn and smack your lips. "Any reason why you're calling for me?"
There's a humming pause. "There are... a group of men requesting a meeting with you, sir."
You blink, staring at the stale wallpaper of your office. "I... see." It takes you a moment for your rotten mind to register her words. You lick your lips. "I see." You repeat. "Any news on the M part of the company?"
"No news." Katsu replies curtly. "Ah, for the information, I suspect that these men are barging without my clearance. Pardon me, sir. May I know when I will receive a raise?"
Your heart skips a few beats.
Your swivel chair, one of the Amanto's greatest gift, slides back as you stand. A part of you wonders why your secretariat didn't stop them?! Another part reminds you that she's just a secretary. A bad one, at that, since she's not fulfilling all the proper tropes. "When you decide to use it for a plastic surgery, Katsu-san." You answer honestly, walking away from the desk.
There's a window behind the room overlooking the sparse street below. It's only two-stories away. There's a suspicious black sedan below. With a humming note on the back of your throat, you unlatch the lock, and slide the window open. The cool wind wakes you up, carrying the smell of safety along with it. If you do it right, you could probably escape without a harm. A sprain, at worst.
"Ah. I see." There's a clacking sound coming from the line. Then the sound of a pushed chair, followed by the distant sound of footsteps. "Sirs!" shouts your secretary. "Please let me take you to the shortcut!"
Your heart skips several more bits. "Shitty secretary," you rumble out.
You look over the window. Sighs at the closing footsteps behind you. With great trepidation, you turn around, and lean precariously over the window's ledge. You can't call it paranoia if it's wholly justified. The knob turns, and the door unlocks to let in a trio of men that seriously screams fuck the policeand fuck your mom too. All sneers. Outfits that seem to be a gross mix of yukata and black leather fetish, all looking deliberately torn up to look 'cool'.
Behind them, you could see the smug face of your ugly secretary. No plastic surgery, she seems to mouth.
No plastic surgery, you decide to compromise for the moment. Seriously though, her face would fit a middle-aged man more than a proper woman. Isn't she supposed to be still thirty?
She bows. "Sasagawa-san, these men have arrived. If you need something, do call," with that, she closes the door with a click and skips away happily, if the fading footsteps are anything to see.
There's a moment of silence. Your hands squeeze harder on the ledge of the window. These men don't look that intimidating, really, but the way all of them seem to reach into their sleeve sends warning alarm in your head. Any person with a weapon is always intimidating.
Finally, one of them steps forward. Flat black hair with a strip of blue that goes straight to his shoulders. He's also the one wearing the golden necklace. "Cough cough." He coughs, literally saying the 'cough'.
You blink. Who the fuck does he think he is? Vanilla the Catgirl!? Does he think this is a damn Visual Novel? This is a damn fanfiction! And he's not even good-looking enough to even be a named character!
You take a breath from your nose, and smile pleasantly. A bit too pleasantly. "How may I help you all, gentlemen?" Just a little push to the back, you would be out of here pronto.
The man does a smile-sneer as he takes the sole seat before your desk. The other two take the both of his sides, acting as bodyguards. Bald head, and wear sunglasses. They fit the trope, at least. "Ah yes." he tilts his head a bit. "First of all, I want to offer my condolences of your father's death, Sasagawa-san." He looks up at you. "But enough of that, and let's get to the point. I am here to represent the Joui Patriots."
Your facade cracks.
"What."
"Indeed." He nods. "Before his death, your father and our faction have worked together. He would provide us with weapons and supplies—but mostly weapons—and in return, we would protect him from," he coughs. "Certain harm. And also a fitting amount of payment, as well,"
You gather your composure well enough. "Fat lot that did to him," though not that well enough.
He shrugs. "It was an accident."
You lick your lips. Makes you wonder if he's telling the truth or not, if you're going to be honest. "True enough." You concede. "And I suppose you are here to ensure if I'm still willing to work with you?"
He nods.
"And what if I'm not willing?"
He shrugs. "Well, it is not in our faction's preference to force unwilling people to work with us. In such case, I will leave, tell my leader, and forget that this meeting has ever happened."
"I see." You drawl lazily. Do you believe in any of that, or do you not? Is he insinuating something, or are you looking too deep into it? Your grips tighten around the window's ledge. Just a tiny tilt, and you're away. In any way, this can also be an opportunity. "If I am to agree with working for your... faction, would it be fine for me to alter whatever deal you had with my father?"
There's a moment of pause, before he nods. "Of course," he smiles; the hand in his sleeves twitches. Yours tighten. "That would only be fair."
"Well..."
-x-
[] Make a deal. Things haven't been doing great, and this would certainly make a profit for you. Weapon Merchants are usually contracted by privatesemi-legal businessess or government approved organization, such as the Shinsengumi. This explains the lack of those contracts and contacts when you replaced your father, and how this company has been managing to stay afloat.
[] Don't make the deal. It's too risky, and you're not quite willing to risk it. There are several implications regarding your father's death that could be related to this business. Being the CEO of a Weapon Merchant Company is already bad enough, you don't think you could manage with making it worse.
[] Escape. Just a tilt. What's the worst that could happen?
[] Stall it. Surely your secretary isn't going to abandon you? She's not the most loyal, but she's still somewhat loyal. She's been working in here for seven years along with your father. Surely, she wouldn't... but are you willing to risk that? Wait, the phone is still open!
-x-
The sky is beautiful to day—well, not really. If your eyes do not lie to you, the sky is actually brown; hickory brown, to be exact. Strange, but you suppose if the sky can go orange, why not go brown for once? Who knew that the sky is such a merchant daughter? Your head shifts, eyes blinking. On second thought, that's not the sky. That's actually the surface of your office desk; no wonder your face is sore right now.
You gurgle out a pitiful groan. You're still sixteen and you're already wasting your life. Next to you, the office's telephone burbles to life, drilling a digital tune down into your eardrums. You grumble underneath your breath, pulling out a miserable yawn as you push yourself up. Blindly, your hand presses the answer button.
"Ah, Sasagawa-san, have you finished your nap?" comes the smooth voice of your middle-aged secretary, Katsu Kimiko. Blessed with a great mind. Somewhat loyal. Not so much on the face factor.
You rub your eyes, scrubbing the sleep crusts off them. Truly, sleep crusts are life's cruelest enemies. They are like microscopic assassins, trying to blind you one sleep at a time. "I have," you answer, urging down the want to yawn and smack your lips. "Any reason why you're calling for me?"
There's a humming pause. "There are... a group of men requesting a meeting with you, sir."
You blink, staring at the stale wallpaper of your office. "I... see." It takes you a moment for your rotten mind to register her words. You lick your lips. "I see." You repeat. "Any news on the M part of the company?"
"No news." Katsu replies curtly. "Ah, for the information, I suspect that these men are barging without my clearance. Pardon me, sir. May I know when I will receive a raise?"
Your heart skips a few beats.
Your swivel chair, one of the Amanto's greatest gift, slides back as you stand. A part of you wonders why your secretariat didn't stop them?! Another part reminds you that she's just a secretary. A bad one, at that, since she's not fulfilling all the proper tropes. "When you decide to use it for a plastic surgery, Katsu-san." You answer honestly, walking away from the desk.
There's a window behind the room overlooking the sparse street below. It's only two-stories away. There's a suspicious black sedan below. With a humming note on the back of your throat, you unlatch the lock, and slide the window open. The cool wind wakes you up, carrying the smell of safety along with it. If you do it right, you could probably escape without a harm. A sprain, at worst.
"Ah. I see." There's a clacking sound coming from the line. Then the sound of a pushed chair, followed by the distant sound of footsteps. "Sirs!" shouts your secretary. "Please let me take you to the shortcut!"
Your heart skips several more bits. "Shitty secretary," you rumble out.
You look over the window. Sighs at the closing footsteps behind you. With great trepidation, you turn around, and lean precariously over the window's ledge. You can't call it paranoia if it's wholly justified. The knob turns, and the door unlocks to let in a trio of men that seriously screams fuck the policeand fuck your mom too. All sneers. Outfits that seem to be a gross mix of yukata and black leather fetish, all looking deliberately torn up to look 'cool'.
Behind them, you could see the smug face of your ugly secretary. No plastic surgery, she seems to mouth.
No plastic surgery, you decide to compromise for the moment. Seriously though, her face would fit a middle-aged man more than a proper woman. Isn't she supposed to be still thirty?
She bows. "Sasagawa-san, these men have arrived. If you need something, do call," with that, she closes the door with a click and skips away happily, if the fading footsteps are anything to see.
There's a moment of silence. Your hands squeeze harder on the ledge of the window. These men don't look that intimidating, really, but the way all of them seem to reach into their sleeve sends warning alarm in your head. Any person with a weapon is always intimidating.
Finally, one of them steps forward. Flat black hair with a strip of blue that goes straight to his shoulders. He's also the one wearing the golden necklace. "Cough cough." He coughs, literally saying the 'cough'.
You blink. Who the fuck does he think he is? Vanilla the Catgirl!? Does he think this is a damn Visual Novel? This is a damn fanfiction! And he's not even good-looking enough to even be a named character!
You take a breath from your nose, and smile pleasantly. A bit too pleasantly. "How may I help you all, gentlemen?" Just a little push to the back, you would be out of here pronto.
The man does a smile-sneer as he takes the sole seat before your desk. The other two take the both of his sides, acting as bodyguards. Bald head, and wear sunglasses. They fit the trope, at least. "Ah yes." he tilts his head a bit. "First of all, I want to offer my condolences of your father's death, Sasagawa-san." He looks up at you. "But enough of that, and let's get to the point. I am here to represent the Joui Patriots."
Your facade cracks.
"What."
"Indeed." He nods. "Before his death, your father and our faction have worked together. He would provide us with weapons and supplies—but mostly weapons—and in return, we would protect him from," he coughs. "Certain harm. And also a fitting amount of payment, as well,"
You gather your composure well enough. "Fat lot that did to him," though not that well enough.
He shrugs. "It was an accident."
You lick your lips. Makes you wonder if he's telling the truth or not, if you're going to be honest. "True enough." You concede. "And I suppose you are here to ensure if I'm still willing to work with you?"
He nods.
"And what if I'm not willing?"
He shrugs. "Well, it is not in our faction's preference to force unwilling people to work with us. In such case, I will leave, tell my leader, and forget that this meeting has ever happened."
"I see." You drawl lazily. Do you believe in any of that, or do you not? Is he insinuating something, or are you looking too deep into it? Your grips tighten around the window's ledge. Just a tiny tilt, and you're away. In any way, this can also be an opportunity. "If I am to agree with working for your... faction, would it be fine for me to alter whatever deal you had with my father?"
There's a moment of pause, before he nods. "Of course," he smiles; the hand in his sleeves twitches. Yours tighten. "That would only be fair."
"Well..."
-x-
[] Make a deal. Things haven't been doing great, and this would certainly make a profit for you. Weapon Merchants are usually contracted by privatesemi-legal businessess or government approved organization, such as the Shinsengumi. This explains the lack of those contracts and contacts when you replaced your father, and how this company has been managing to stay afloat.
[] Don't make the deal. It's too risky, and you're not quite willing to risk it. There are several implications regarding your father's death that could be related to this business. Being the CEO of a Weapon Merchant Company is already bad enough, you don't think you could manage with making it worse.
[] Escape. Just a tilt. What's the worst that could happen?
[] Stall it. Surely your secretary isn't going to abandon you? She's not the most loyal, but she's still somewhat loyal. She's been working in here for seven years along with your father. Surely, she wouldn't... but are you willing to risk that? Wait, the phone is still open!
Last edited:
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Character Sheet
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Allies
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Groups
SoothingCoffee
I trust you know where the happy button is?
- Joined
- Jan 15, 2016
- Messages
- 610
Stuffs. May vote now.
Omida
Experienced.
- Joined
- Nov 23, 2015
- Messages
- 3,634
This right here shows the best we left the land of sanity and entered shenanigans of Gintama.
[X] Escape. Just a tilt. What's the worst that could happen?