Session One; Shiba a Go Go

Morasahi puzzled over where to put her next stone on the board. She had been looking forward to the Go tournament since she arrived. It was something she actually knew how to do, unlike the events held the day before that catered to those who were taught the arts in their schooling. Morasahi hadn’t been afforded the opportunity to stand in a garden painting, or be so moved by a sunset she had to sing about it. It was good in a way, she didn’t expect she was a very good vocalist, she had a hard enough time finding the words in response to normal conversations, singing in front of people seemed like it would be even more uncomfortable. But strategy, that was something she knew and had little trouble acting on.

Session One; The Game of Birds and Cats

Asahina Kyuzo sat quietly, listening to the competitor before him play the most beautiful rendition of Cherry Snow he had ever heard. It was the perfect song to play here at the Topaz Championship, full of complicated transitions between notes and strict timing. Probably the best song to pick if one were skilled enough to manage it, unlike Kyuzo. He could handle a komabue well enough, but since his acceptance at the Kakita Bushi Academy he had not the time to practice as often as he would have liked. The Asahina family was well known for their talent in arts, a talent that seemed to pass Kyuzo by. Still, he managed what he could, taking up the flute and painting in the precious little time he wasn’t learning dueling techniques, or strategy through games of Go with other students.

Session One; The Tournament Begins

The city was crowded, more so the closer Katsumi got to the registration booths. She had noted the sheer amount of people the day before, when her traveling group first entered the city and set up their tent. Katsumi had never seen so many people, even though the Topaz Championship was the smallest jewel-named tournament the Realm had to offer, it still invited several students from across the land, from every clan, coupled with the town’s own population there were easily more people than the small villages Katsumi had grown up around. Even the Black Silk dojo couldn’t have held this many people when it was still operational, before it was burned to the ground. That was back when the Empire had declared her clan outlaws, when they were actively hunted, and all because of what? A little trickery and espionage. The other clans partook in those activities daily, and had been for centuries. That time, however was over, and now here she stood, proudly wearing her clan’s mon upon her back and there was nothing the rest of the Empire could do about it, no matter how much they sneered and turned up their noses at her. It really didn’t bother Katsumi, she was used to scowls and stares, she barely noticed them anymore.

Author Update: The Stories shall Flow

Maybe flow is the wrong word to use here. Either way, I'm challenging myself with a new project, which is to transcribe the events happening in my new gaming group. New is also the incorrect word to use, as most of them are not new, but the setup has changed and we have indeed begun a new game. The last post was related to this, in attempts to get inside the head of my chosen character.

So, hopefully, I'll be updating this every week, if not more than once a week, with our gaming session written in a somewhat enjoyable fashion.

What about the rest of all those updates from a year ago? Well, long story short, I apparently take way more time than I thought I would to complete something. My partner fell out like a month or so into the whole thing as well, so it's been slow going. Either way, that stuff is of no consequence, this is the new, old, R.J. Mercy. I'm back, writing about more gaming stuff. Shocking, I know.

Part of the Family

Life is duty. Katsumi had learned this at a young age. She had been given a wakizashi crafted in the colors of the Dragon clan at seven. The hilt was painted green with a gold dragon curled along it, mouth open so it appeared the blade shot straight from the dragon’s mouth. It was terribly uncomfortable before she had wound the cloth around the long since faded colors. That dragon barely recognizable, worn down so much no one would know what it originally was, except Katsumi. She remembered clearly the way it looked. The way it felt in her hand. The weight of it, much heavier than she had believed it would be, only entrusted with a small, crudely made knife before that time. She remembered the man who it used to belong to and the way he had glared at her. He was a monster in her memory, the way she had seen him at the age of seven. Even on his knees he was taller than her, shoulders hunched as if he was getting ready to spring on her. Looking down on her with strands of hair hanging across his face, torn loose from his fight with her family. Her brother gripped the Dragon’s hair, his katana pressed against the man’s back, keeping him from fleeing. Her father kneeling next to her, pointing and explaining where she was to put the blade in order to stop his heart.

The Dragon was glaring at Katsumi as she approached. He looked down on her with disgust, with hatred. He was her sacrifice, her offering. The first to die by her hands. The one that would bring her into a life of duty, bringing her into the family, the Spider clan. Her brother pulled on the Dragon’s hair, straightening him. The Dragon’s armor had already been removed to prevent it from being sullied, it could prove to be useful at a later time. His kimono had been pulled away by her father so he could better instruct her on the point of entry, now hanging around his arms, the ropes binding his hands behind his back preventing it from falling away. Katsumi placed the tip of the wakizashi against the Dragon’s chest, her other hand cupping the end of the hilt for added strength and stability. She shifted her feet, getting ready to push with all her might.

“I will bring the Empire to its knees. I will bring death to your family. Your life ends by my hand. I am the Spider clan.”

Every day from then on, she was a Spider. Even before they were accepted by the Empire, they were Spider. When they were ronin, or Dragon, or Phoenix, they were Spider. When the clan was declared outlaws, when they were hunted, when they couldn’t bare their mon, they were still Spider. The Dark Lord decreed it, and it was so. In her heart she knew she was Spider clan. And now, six years after she first became part of the family, they were all Spider clan. They were part of the Empire, achieving great clan status with the sacrifice of the Dark Lord. His name she shared, as did all those she traveled with, all those in her family. They may not have been tied by blood, not even her father was of relation to her. But blood doesn’t make you a Spider, duty does.

Author Update: Project on Project Action

Two months really isn't that long considering I went eight without so much as a peep, but I figured those who frequent this blog should know what to expect in the near or distant future. Besides that noisy little thing we call life, I've actually got my hands full with some other projects. On one hand, I'm working on this... thing, that I don't want to get too specific about so I'll be completely vague. This thing is a collaboration with another, so even if I want to wrap it up in a month, it won't be happening. I foresee myself working on this thing for the next six months, by then I hope to have it completed or else I will have murdered my co-author. With that said, I'm also doing some other projects outside of creative writing.

Don't you worry your pretty little head. I'll be back before you know it. Side-projects are what allow us to enjoy the things we do, otherwise its always work. With deadlines. And expectations. Oh boy. In other words, I may have devoted the majority of my time the last two months to nothing I can actually put here, but I do believe before the year is over I'll be throwing some new things this way.

I've updated the Here's Looking at you, Kid page by a very small amount. I've also found a lot of notes on older pieces that I intend to wrap up in neat little packages. I know I swore off of WoW stories, but a lot of them are waiting in the wings. And by a lot, I mean four, maybe? That's what I get for re-organizing. I have also found a crap-ton of old, very old notebooks. So if I don't get around to putting anything new together I might make you suffer through those. I sure hope it doesn't come to that. Even I know what bad looks like.

Until then, there's always Better Out There.    

Bed of Roses; Part Four (Fin)

     “It was nice.” Ayame finally responded. Miroku smiled at how simple the answer was. Of course it was nice, could it have been anything else? He took another drink and nodded.
    “Tell me about it.” He said. He had rarely had the opportunity to talk to others about how life was supposed to be. Every now and then he could coax a few stories from someone he had bedded, but in most cases they didn’t want to discuss personal details. He understood, his company wasn’t usually kept for conversation.