Feyblue

Akimitsu Academy Kendo Club [INVITE ONLY]

Takamine Mikumo

T A K A M I N E M I K U M O
T A K A M I N E M I K U M O

^{“There's no need for any further introduction. Show me your resolve, and my sword will answer.”}

---

_______________________________________________ Demographic Full Name - Takamine Mikumo (高嶺 美雲) Nicknames - Her family and the old ladies in her neighborhood often call her "Miku-chan." Age - 17 Gender - Female Year - Second Year Club Position - Fukusho - Vice-Captain Personality Stern and Silent Mikumo is not a person who makes a good first impression. With a perpetually harsh gaze and blunt words, she has little tolerance for or capacity to make small talk. She's a girl who always has a goal in mind, and will always take the most direct route to achieving it. But while this does make her an effective instructor and organizer, it makes her a very poor conversationalist. Hard Work Always Works Mikumo might be rather bad at thinking outside the box, but though her methods lack subtlety, her dedication is second to none. If there's a problem she can't solve, she'll study it until it makes sense to her. If there's an opponent she can't defeat, she'll train until she can. Her answer to any and all problems is to simply redouble her focus and her efforts, and to throw herself up against them with grit and gusto. Wounded Pride Though Mikumo's own reputation precedes her, it pales in comparison to that of her father and elder brother -- figures to whom she has been compared one way or the other for most of her life. Though she admires them greatly, that doesn't change the way it stings when she's referred to as "Takamine Mikoto's little sister" or "Takamine Masashi's daughter" -- nor can she entirely escape the lingering feeling of inadequacy that that's all she'll ever be seen as. Beneath the Ice Though her frigid demeanor and taciturn personality scare away many of those who might otherwise seek to befriend her, truth be told she's not deliberately cold so much as socially inept. Her frankness often gives cause for unintended offense, while her own self-consciousness causes her to avoid overt displays of emotion or interest that might be seen as unbecoming of her image. And, making matters worse, her lack of awareness causes her to either misread or completely fail to notice social cues that would warn her away from such behavior. But underneath it all, she's actually a surprisingly sweet and caring girl... if only she could just learn to relax a little. Kendo Style As one who has studied the art of Kendo since she was old enough to hold a sword, and who has benefited from the generational experience of her family in their long history as professional Kendoka, it comes as no surprise that Mikumo is quite skilled for her age. Although unlike her more prodigious brother she only holds the rank of second Dan, she makes up for this gap in the overall breadth of her knowledge with a firm mastery of the fundamentals. Possessed of lightning-quick reflexes and a keenly analytical eye, she is well-suited to predicting the intentions of her opponents, and countering them with a wide array of simple-yet-effective techniques. Her swordsmanship is neither flashy nor subtle, but rather exactly as swift and direct as her own unwavering personality would lead one to believe. She turns her opponent's blade, then immediately retaliates with her own, pressing the attack for as long as her momentum remains unbroken. Or, should she be unable to remain on the offensive, she's equally capable of adjusting to a more passive posture, weathering the opponent's blows without offering up any openings for them to capitalize on, and simply enduring until they make a mistake. Adaptability is thus, first and foremost, her greatest advantage, allowing her to take a wide range of different tactics and integrate them harmoniously into her own style, shoring up gaps in her own knowledge and weak points in her strategy, while picking and choosing the right stance and the right move for any given matchup. ...The problem is not her abilities or aptitudes, then -- it's her willingness (or lack thereof) to make use of what should be her greatest strength. Hardened by a lifelong inferiority complex, her mindset is far too rigid to accept that some tactics and techniques are ill-suited for her physique, build, and relative proficiency. She's far too preoccupied with trying to do things "right" -- or, more precisely, with trying to do things the way Mikoto would. Because of this, she's not satisfied with victories earned through simple endurance. Mikumo wants to overwhelm her opponents, advancing decisively and proactively to meet and overcome them in a head-to-head contest of strength. Because of this, she's dead-set on mastering a highly aggressive Jodan strategy of relentless aggression, pressuring the opponent with overhead strikes even when she might be better served by winding around the opponent's sword instead of clashing with it directly. But while she has height, she lacks the same brute strength as her brother possesses -- and that is a gap she will likely never be able to close. Perhaps in this manner, too, she is doomed to forever languish in her brother's shadow -- so blinded by his radiance that she never thinks to notice the glimmer of talent that she alone possesses... Other Information Part of the reason why Mikumo was so quickly scouted for and so highly placed within Akimitsu Academy's Kendo team, despite only recently having transferred to the school, is that she has cultivated a certain reputation due to her performance in tournaments back in Junior High. It's uncertain where the name originates from, but apparently, she was known previously as the "Sleeping Dragon of Harugaoka Junior High." She seems to rather strongly dislike this sobriquet, and has repeatedly asked people to stop calling her by it, but that only seems to have solidified the name in the hearts and minds of her new schoolmates. Though, it's questionable whether this is because people actually believe in her much-exaggerated reputation, or simply because some of her male admirers greatly enjoy seeing her flustered by it. Her dialogue Hexacode color is #B90050.

Physical Description Ever since her transfer at the start of the second year, the girl named Takamine Mikumo has taken Akimitsu Academy by storm. Well, that's probably an exaggeration. But be that as it may, it's admittedly rather difficult to ignore someone so visually striking. Standing at a height of 171 cm/5'7", she stands almost a head taller than most of her female classmates, and can even look down on some of the boys. Coupled with her long, sometimes-neat, sometimes-wild mane of ink black hair, piercing wine-red gaze, and her clear, commanding voice, one almost can't help but take note of her natural charisma. Her figure plays more than just a small part as well, of course -- it's a secret only to her that most of the academy's male population finds her rather easy on the eyes. The only flaw in her otherwise tremendous physical appeal comes in her lack of expressiveness. When her face's entire visible emotional range lies somewhere between vacant disinterest, stoic resolution, and the occasional scowl of frustration or scorn, it's a little hard to do more than just observe her from afar. After all, she's a lot less pretty when it's you she's glaring at. But bold souls will ever and always struggle and strive in the face of great challenges, and accordingly, there is a rumor that has been circulated among the male student body. Anyone who can make the ice queen of the Kendo Club smile will be blessed. Your acne will clear up, your sleep schedule will resolve itself, your grades will improve, your lost cat will come home, and you shall be graced with miraculous good fortune until the end of your days... probably. Personal Story The noble art of Kendo has been passed down the Takamine family line for generations. Tracing their lineage proudly back to an old samurai family, each successive heir of the family has gone on to raise their name to still loftier heights. Her grandfather founded a prominent dojo which her family still runs to this day, while her father achieved national honors in the sport and now serves as a Kendo instructor to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. And her brother, though only one year older than Mikumo herself, has already proven himself a prodigy in the art of the sword, earning the rank of first Dan by unanimous vote almost the moment he became old enough to undertake the examination for it, second Dan exactly one year after, and third Dan two years after that, held back only by how quickly his teachers would allow him to undertake testing. In any other household, Mikumo's own skills would likely have stood out more. However, there is a sharp line between "talent" and "genius" -- and she, unfortunately, falls short of that line. As her brother's progression outstripped her further and further, then, how could she not feel as though she was wasting her father's time with her incessant questions and failures to grasp what Mikoto had mastered so easily? With no other peers to compare herself to, the young Mikumo's view of her own competence became warped -- and the fact that despite her shortcomings, her father still took the time to try to instruct her only made her more painfully aware of this perceived inadequacy. She likely would have set aside the sport entirely, had she been forced to continue any longer in such a manner. But in Junior High, things changed. Following as she did in the footsteps of her esteemed elder brother, the Kendo club's hero, it was impossible to shake the expectations of her new classmates -- classmates who almost immediately offered her a place on the team. She could have said no. Maybe she should have. But Mikumo's wounded pride had yet to heal, and the expectant eyes of her classmates soothed her sense of inadequacy. And much to her surprise, she was anything but inadequate. Before she knew it, she was recognized as the second coming of their club's hero, in deed as well as in name, filling in for her brother as team captain once he graduated to High School and advanced to national-level competition. For the first time since she had set out as a child to learn the art, she felt... pride? ...A pride that was doomed to be short-lived. For although she, in her third year, stood where her brother once had, basking in the acclaim that had so long eluded her, there were no shortage of those who occupied what had once been her own place. Admiration turned to resentment, as the approval which other talented clubmates desired was instead heaped solely upon her, their prodigious young captain. And just like that, the place she thought she had finally found was gone, as her classmates turned to spreading rumors and mockery behind her back, and the club she had helped lead to victory fell apart around her. Her parents tried to salvage the situation as best they could. Her father, hoping her love of the sport would not be soured by this bad experience, tried to arrange for her admission to the same high school as Mikoto. He must have surely hoped that in such an environment, she would be surrounded by equals who would respect her skills and accomplishments, and that Mikoto would be able to protect her from any doubts or insults leveled by those who refused to. But mo matter how benevolent her father and brother's intentions might have been, the last thing she wanted was to go back to meekly dwelling in Mikoto's shadow. She wanted to strive, to accomplish, and to excel on her own terms. So it was that after only a year at her first high school, she talked her mother into letting her stay with her grandparents, and transfer to a different school closer to their home -- one with a Kendo team only slightly less prestigious than the one which her brother now captained, and on which she herself had so briefly competed. Only this time, she would not be following in Mikoto's footsteps. She would enter the school as just another Kendoka, seeking to draw no attention to her name or to her troubled history with the sport -- succeeding or failing solely on her own merits, and hers alone. ...Were it only so easy.

Akimitsu Academy Kendo Club [INVITE ONLY]

Takamine Mikumo

T A K A M I N E M I K U M O
T A K A M I N E M I K U M O

^{“There's no need for any further introduction. Show me your resolve, and my sword will answer.”}

---

_______________________________________________ Demographic Full Name - Takamine Mikumo (高嶺 美雲) Nicknames - Her family and the old ladies in her neighborhood often call her "Miku-chan." Age - 17 Gender - Female Year - Second Year Club Position - Fukusho - Vice-Captain Personality Stern and Silent Mikumo is not a person who makes a good first impression. With a perpetually harsh gaze and blunt words, she has little tolerance for or capacity to make small talk. She's a girl who always has a goal in mind, and will always take the most direct route to achieving it. But while this does make her an effective instructor and organizer, it makes her a very poor conversationalist. Hard Work Always Works Mikumo might be rather bad at thinking outside the box, but though her methods lack subtlety, her dedication is second to none. If there's a problem she can't solve, she'll study it until it makes sense to her. If there's an opponent she can't defeat, she'll train until she can. Her answer to any and all problems is to simply redouble her focus and her efforts, and to throw herself up against them with grit and gusto. Wounded Pride Though Mikumo's own reputation precedes her, it pales in comparison to that of her father and elder brother -- figures to whom she has been compared one way or the other for most of her life. Though she admires them greatly, that doesn't change the way it stings when she's referred to as "Takamine Mikoto's little sister" or "Takamine Masashi's daughter" -- nor can she entirely escape the lingering feeling of inadequacy that that's all she'll ever be seen as. Beneath the Ice Though her frigid demeanor and taciturn personality scare away many of those who might otherwise seek to befriend her, truth be told she's not deliberately cold so much as socially inept. Her frankness often gives cause for unintended offense, while her own self-consciousness causes her to avoid overt displays of emotion or interest that might be seen as unbecoming of her image. And, making matters worse, her lack of awareness causes her to either misread or completely fail to notice social cues that would warn her away from such behavior. But underneath it all, she's actually a surprisingly sweet and caring girl... if only she could just learn to relax a little. Kendo Style As one who has studied the art of Kendo since she was old enough to hold a sword, and who has benefited from the generational experience of her family in their long history as professional Kendoka, it comes as no surprise that Mikumo is quite skilled for her age. Although unlike her more prodigious brother she only holds the rank of second Dan, she makes up for this gap in the overall breadth of her knowledge with a firm mastery of the fundamentals. Possessed of lightning-quick reflexes and a keenly analytical eye, she is well-suited to predicting the intentions of her opponents, and countering them with a wide array of simple-yet-effective techniques. Her swordsmanship is neither flashy nor subtle, but rather exactly as swift and direct as her own unwavering personality would lead one to believe. She turns her opponent's blade, then immediately retaliates with her own, pressing the attack for as long as her momentum remains unbroken. Or, should she be unable to remain on the offensive, she's equally capable of adjusting to a more passive posture, weathering the opponent's blows without offering up any openings for them to capitalize on, and simply enduring until they make a mistake. Adaptability is thus, first and foremost, her greatest advantage, allowing her to take a wide range of different tactics and integrate them harmoniously into her own style, shoring up gaps in her own knowledge and weak points in her strategy, while picking and choosing the right stance and the right move for any given matchup. ...The problem is not her abilities or aptitudes, then -- it's her willingness (or lack thereof) to make use of what should be her greatest strength. Hardened by a lifelong inferiority complex, her mindset is far too rigid to accept that some tactics and techniques are ill-suited for her physique, build, and relative proficiency. She's far too preoccupied with trying to do things "right" -- or, more precisely, with trying to do things the way Mikoto would. Because of this, she's not satisfied with victories earned through simple endurance. Mikumo wants to overwhelm her opponents, advancing decisively and proactively to meet and overcome them in a head-to-head contest of strength. Because of this, she's dead-set on mastering a highly aggressive Jodan strategy of relentless aggression, pressuring the opponent with overhead strikes even when she might be better served by winding around the opponent's sword instead of clashing with it directly. But while she has height, she lacks the same brute strength as her brother possesses -- and that is a gap she will likely never be able to close. Perhaps in this manner, too, she is doomed to forever languish in her brother's shadow -- so blinded by his radiance that she never thinks to notice the glimmer of talent that she alone possesses... Other Information Part of the reason why Mikumo was so quickly scouted for and so highly placed within Akimitsu Academy's Kendo team, despite only recently having transferred to the school, is that she has cultivated a certain reputation due to her performance in tournaments back in Junior High. It's uncertain where the name originates from, but apparently, she was known previously as the "Sleeping Dragon of Harugaoka Junior High." She seems to rather strongly dislike this sobriquet, and has repeatedly asked people to stop calling her by it, but that only seems to have solidified the name in the hearts and minds of her new schoolmates. Though, it's questionable whether this is because people actually believe in her much-exaggerated reputation, or simply because some of her male admirers greatly enjoy seeing her flustered by it. Her dialogue Hexacode color is #B90050.

Physical Description Ever since her transfer at the start of the second year, the girl named Takamine Mikumo has taken Akimitsu Academy by storm. Well, that's probably an exaggeration. But be that as it may, it's admittedly rather difficult to ignore someone so visually striking. Standing at a height of 171 cm/5'7", she stands almost a head taller than most of her female classmates, and can even look down on some of the boys. Coupled with her long, sometimes-neat, sometimes-wild mane of ink black hair, piercing wine-red gaze, and her clear, commanding voice, one almost can't help but take note of her natural charisma. Her figure plays more than just a small part as well, of course -- it's a secret only to her that most of the academy's male population finds her rather easy on the eyes. The only flaw in her otherwise tremendous physical appeal comes in her lack of expressiveness. When her face's entire visible emotional range lies somewhere between vacant disinterest, stoic resolution, and the occasional scowl of frustration or scorn, it's a little hard to do more than just observe her from afar. After all, she's a lot less pretty when it's you she's glaring at. But bold souls will ever and always struggle and strive in the face of great challenges, and accordingly, there is a rumor that has been circulated among the male student body. Anyone who can make the ice queen of the Kendo Club smile will be blessed. Your acne will clear up, your sleep schedule will resolve itself, your grades will improve, your lost cat will come home, and you shall be graced with miraculous good fortune until the end of your days... probably. Personal Story The noble art of Kendo has been passed down the Takamine family line for generations. Tracing their lineage proudly back to an old samurai family, each successive heir of the family has gone on to raise their name to still loftier heights. Her grandfather founded a prominent dojo which her family still runs to this day, while her father achieved national honors in the sport and now serves as a Kendo instructor to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. And her brother, though only one year older than Mikumo herself, has already proven himself a prodigy in the art of the sword, earning the rank of first Dan by unanimous vote almost the moment he became old enough to undertake the examination for it, second Dan exactly one year after, and third Dan two years after that, held back only by how quickly his teachers would allow him to undertake testing. In any other household, Mikumo's own skills would likely have stood out more. However, there is a sharp line between "talent" and "genius" -- and she, unfortunately, falls short of that line. As her brother's progression outstripped her further and further, then, how could she not feel as though she was wasting her father's time with her incessant questions and failures to grasp what Mikoto had mastered so easily? With no other peers to compare herself to, the young Mikumo's view of her own competence became warped -- and the fact that despite her shortcomings, her father still took the time to try to instruct her only made her more painfully aware of this perceived inadequacy. She likely would have set aside the sport entirely, had she been forced to continue any longer in such a manner. But in Junior High, things changed. Following as she did in the footsteps of her esteemed elder brother, the Kendo club's hero, it was impossible to shake the expectations of her new classmates -- classmates who almost immediately offered her a place on the team. She could have said no. Maybe she should have. But Mikumo's wounded pride had yet to heal, and the expectant eyes of her classmates soothed her sense of inadequacy. And much to her surprise, she was anything but inadequate. Before she knew it, she was recognized as the second coming of their club's hero, in deed as well as in name, filling in for her brother as team captain once he graduated to High School and advanced to national-level competition. For the first time since she had set out as a child to learn the art, she felt... pride? ...A pride that was doomed to be short-lived. For although she, in her third year, stood where her brother once had, basking in the acclaim that had so long eluded her, there were no shortage of those who occupied what had once been her own place. Admiration turned to resentment, as the approval which other talented clubmates desired was instead heaped solely upon her, their prodigious young captain. And just like that, the place she thought she had finally found was gone, as her classmates turned to spreading rumors and mockery behind her back, and the club she had helped lead to victory fell apart around her. Her parents tried to salvage the situation as best they could. Her father, hoping her love of the sport would not be soured by this bad experience, tried to arrange for her admission to the same high school as Mikoto. He must have surely hoped that in such an environment, she would be surrounded by equals who would respect her skills and accomplishments, and that Mikoto would be able to protect her from any doubts or insults leveled by those who refused to. But mo matter how benevolent her father and brother's intentions might have been, the last thing she wanted was to go back to meekly dwelling in Mikoto's shadow. She wanted to strive, to accomplish, and to excel on her own terms. So it was that after only a year at her first high school, she talked her mother into letting her stay with her grandparents, and transfer to a different school closer to their home -- one with a Kendo team only slightly less prestigious than the one which her brother now captained, and on which she herself had so briefly competed. Only this time, she would not be following in Mikoto's footsteps. She would enter the school as just another Kendoka, seeking to draw no attention to her name or to her troubled history with the sport -- succeeding or failing solely on her own merits, and hers alone. ...Were it only so easy.

Akimitsu Academy Kendo Club [INVITE ONLY]

I'll be dropping my CS either tonight or tomorrow!

To Become a Knight! ~ A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure

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Tervellan had only averted his eyes for a split second, but once again, to his dismay, there was another infraction to adjudicate in his quarter... and sure enough, the Baker boy was responsible again.

That much wasn't surprising, all things considered. None of the happenings in the lad's prior matches had given even the slightest indication that he would be fighting fairly. His... creativity was honestly almost impressive, though it could hardly make up for his utter lack of qualities befitting a knight. Perhaps he would have done well if he had instead submitted himself to one of the more discreet branches of Grayle's military -- the Prince's Shadows, for one. But unfortunately for everyone, and especially for Tervellan, he had decided to make a spectacle of his little tricks instead.

And what was surprising was that, apparently, in the very first instant of his third battle, they had worked.

It hadn't been Tervellan's intention to give his opponent an easy win. Though he had pulled a great many strings in the organization of this tournament, and would be pulling even more to get his way come the selection afterward, he hadn't seen any need to rig the odds in young Lothwren's favor. He was, after all, one of the most promising young swordsmen of his generation -- and the only reason to add the "one of" qualifier was because of the Absolute boy in the next quadrant over. Even so, there wasn't any contestant on the entire roster that should have been able to overwhelm him so thoroughly. He had competed against the best of the best and had not been found wanting.

But the best of the best did not make a habit of carrying pocketfuls of sand into the arena with them -- and not even the most powerful of Auras could protect its wielder from a threat they did not anticipate. This, which should have been that boy's finest moment, was turned to ignominious shame by such a trifling thing -- and he, in some sense, was accountable. If he had simply disqualified the Baker boy after his last stunt, then...

But what was done was done, and a Knight Commander was not supposed to play favorites, no matter how promising the cadet in question might have been. Since he had let the previous "victory" -- if it could be honestly called such -- stand, he would have no choice but to do the same again.

But that didn't mean he had to let things end like this. The Baker boy was creative, tenacious, and honestly, even amusing in his own way, if only for how easily his antics incited anger in a particularly contemptible colleague. But even a man as open-minded as Tervellan knew that such paltry "skill" could not be presented side-by-side with the champions of this year's tournament.

Then the solution was simple. A black mark would have to be placed upon the boy's record. Someone who had succeeded through such underhanded methods couldn't complain if he came to be unseated through the same, now could he? And the captain could always make up for jeopardizing the lad's future by taking him into his own division as a consolation prize -- not that any of the other captains would have selected him in the first place.

Excusing himself from the discourse of his peers -- not that there was much discourse to be had beyond Vallentin's flabbergasted tirades about the flagrant dishonor and contemptible incompetence of the commoners this year -- Tervellan rose from his seat, and stalked down from the stands, towards where the subordinate managing his corner was standing. He doubted anyone would notice his absence -- all eyes were still transfixed on the arena, where one Aura user had just spectacularly defeated a skill Incanter in a white-knuckled duel more intense than any the crowd had seen that morning... and where another had just lost so anticlimactically that few in the crowd could yet believe what had occurred.

Yes, indeed. Tervellan had pulled many strings in the organization of this tournament. It would not be difficult to pull another. But who to make use of? The Absolute would be too obvious -- making one street urchin face two Aura users in a single day was sure to draw attention. But there were other prominent nobles, and other great talents, who would surely take the defeat of one of their own to heart... A youth of overweening pride and accomplishment, then. Perhaps the son of Marquess Keighley? Yes, the young lord Zeno's temperament was exactly the sort that would see the matter settled quickly and decisively. He would do quite nicely...

But elsewhere, even as his opponent's friends were helping him from the field, a young blonde boy was still naively celebrating his upset victory, oblivious to the whispers of the crowd around him, or to the conversation that was unfolding between the announcer and the man in black armor off to the side of the arena...

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

_{Tags: @webboysurf@mickilennial}

---

The journey down the shrine steps was normally a short one -- but in consideration for the labor her unfortunate guest had no doubt taken to scale the hillside in the first place, the return journey was conducted very slowly and deliberately. Even so, the village streets were quiet and relatively devoid of bustle by the time the amateur shrine maiden and hobbling doctor arrived before the elder's household. Even at such a busy time of year, few people wanted to be out and about when it was still so unseasonably chilly.

...Would that the cold was the only thing they had to worry about. Oyuki had tried on several occasions to make small talk with her no-doubt perplexed companion, but now even moreso than ever, she just couldn't find the words. The weather was unfavorable and inauspicious, and she was not quite so out of touch with the rumors spoken of her in the village as not to realize that there were those who held her responsible. Some comments about the chilly wind quickly gave way to the usual apologies, leading her to try a different tack.

Next she had tried speaking about the festival -- but that all-too-quickly reminded her of how inadequate she had been in performing the previous year's ceremonies. Another apology quickly rose to her lips, and this line of conversation, too, died out. Yet even so, Masaki-sensei had accompanied her without complaint -- despite her complete inadequacy as a conversationalist, and her uneasy reticence regarding the exact nature of the assistance she required. Surely, he must have been growing irritated by now -- she had forced him to trudge all this way on his weary legs, and had yet to offer even the slightest bit of an explanation.

By the time they reached the elder's manor, and the elder's nephew had gone inside to inform his uncle of their visit, she was already apologizing for a third time.

"I'm so sorry to take up so much of your time. It's just... this is a matter of no small importance, and I believe your insight on the subject will be just as valuable as Elder Takamori's..."

She could only pray that the elder was not otherwise engaged. If only he could see them quickly, and she could begin finding answers to the strange and terrifying questions that the fox's warning had stirred in her mind... If only everything could be resolved, and go back to normal before the dire prophecy which she had been entrusted with came to pass...

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

_{Tags: @webboysurf}

---

The dark-haired woman breathed a faint sigh of relief as Kenichi managed to haul himself to his feet. He seemed to be alright, despite what looked to have been a rather nasty fall. Lending her shoulder and a hand, she allowed herself to serve as a makeshift support until he was fully upright and balanced again, then gingerly handed over his crutch once he had the space and the footing to properly make use of it.

Hearing his answer, she breathed a faint, somewhat disappointed sigh. A cat, was it? There were quite a few bakeneko who liked to frolic around the hillside near the shrine, enticed by the food offerings she frequently left for them. Unfortunately, they didn't always respect good manners when there wasn't someone around who could keep them in line, and ever since her mentor had passed away, they'd grown quite ornery and sometimes even downright mean. While the agreement between the townsfolk and the youkai of the valley still stood - or at least, still should have stood - they tended to play some rather cruel jokes on villagers when nobody else was watching.

"I'm terribly sorry. I'll properly scold them for you," She lowered her head, giving a series of brisk, rather embarrassed bows. After all, if she was more like a proper shrine maiden -- proper enough to earn their respect -- then surely he wouldn't have been inconvenienced or hurt in such a manner. Far from being able to get their help in the matter entrusted to her by Inari-sama's messenger, she couldn't even keep them from pranking the shrine's visitors.

...Hm? But wait a moment. Even if they didn't respect her, wouldn't the bakeneko have been able to sense the presence of such a powerful spirit just now? The lesser Youkai might have only grudgingly acceded to the contract, but they should have still respected the authority of such an important emissary enough not to cause trouble in its vicinity...

This line of thought was distracted, however, by the apology of the man in front of her, one which puzzled her for an entirely different reason.

"Ah, no, please, raise your head! There's no need for you to apologize! It's no inconvenience at all, I was simply surprised that someone came to visit so early! I'm terribly sorry for not being able to offer you a more proper welcome -- and that such a thing happened under my watch. As I said, I'll be sure to scold them for you, so --" She quickly tried to reassure him, but just as quickly fell into apologizing herself. He was acting as if it was his fault for falling, or his fault for even being there -- but really, wasn't it hers? Her own negligence must have led to this, and now he felt uncomfortable, here in this place where all should have been welcome.

And yet, even so, as he continued, why was it that her heart felt so warm?

Before she knew it, Oyuki found herself distracted out of her overwhelming worry by just how unexpected it was to receive such kindness unasked. Most of the villagers had little to do with her outside of problems with the local youkai or commissions for her sewing work, after all -- and for the most part, she had just as little to do with them. If there was a problem, she'd address it herself sooner than troubling anyone else for their assistance, and of course, her duties preparing for the festival were no different.

It had always been this way. Since she was being relied upon to prepare the shrine for the festivities and to ensure everything went smoothly, she would just have to make more time to ensure that she could fulfill those expectations -- even if it meant beginning her work days or weeks in advance. It was always hard, and tiring, and sometimes even frustrating to the point that she was glad when it was over. And yet, seeing the warmth on the faces of the visitors to her shrine, even if she didn't have a place among them, always made her feel like it had been worth her while.

...And yet now, that same warmth was being directed at her. "For all the work you do here at the shrine," he had said. He had noticed. He acknowledged her effort, and was glad because of it. Before she knew it, a small smile had reached her lips, though it was just as quickly hidden as she lowered her head in a gracious bow, hiding her partially-reddened face beneath the brim of her hood.

This time, when she went to speak, she found that the words came easily -- so much so that she marveled at how uneasy she had been just moments before. It was like all the fear and self-doubt that had struck her so suddenly had just as quickly vanished into the winds.

"You have my sincerest gratitude. It's... very thoughtful of you to go so far out of your way for my sake -- particularly when you no doubt have many pressing duties of your own," She said, gingerly accepting the small teabag. "The chilly season hasn't quite gone away, after all, and I'm sure there are many who want for your services."

Right. This was just another one of his duties, just as tending to the shrine and the affairs of the Kami were hers. In his own way, he, too, had to look out for the people of the village. And if the contract was broken, then he, too, would surely...

It was then that suddenly, her many questions received an answer -- one that seemed obvious in hindsight, but somehow had eluded her completely until this very moment. It was simple. The reason the bakeneko had been so brazen, even in the presence of Inari-sama's envoy, wasn't because it hadn't realized; it was because this was the way things were meant to be.

While she hated troubling others on account of her own incompetence, that was one thing -- the will of the Kami was another. They had entrusted this matter to Oyuki, true; but they had also never once said that she had to deal with it alone.

If there was one person whose discretion and dedication she could trust absolutely, it was the doctor. Of course, it wouldn't do for her to go sowing panic until she knew more about what was happening -- but at the same time, the matters which had just been revealed to her would certainly concern him as well. And, where the safety of the entire village was concerned...

Elder Takamori. She needed to see Elder Takamori. If anyone would know what the meaning of this message was, and what needed to be done, it would be him. And if anyone could help her with whatever came after that, then it would be...

Oyuki's eyebrows shot up, eyes widening for just a moment in realization. Then, her face softened, and a sense of calm washed over her features. She raised her head, and for the first time, her hood slipped back in the chilly breeze that swept over the hilltop, revealing strands of raven black hair, and pale cerulean eyes that suddenly seemed to be filled with conviction.

"Masaki-sensei," She began suddenly, the words spilling out before her resolve had time to waver. "I'm terribly sorry for asking this so suddenly -- especially when you've already come all this way for my sake, but... truth be told, there is an important matter I need to attend to, and though it shames me to admit it... I believe my own skills may be inadequate to resolve it. Would you be willing to spare some time to accompany me into town?"

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

_{Tags: @webboysurf}

---

In a daze, the befuddled Shrine Maiden read the message before her at least three times before it finally sank in that, no, she hadn't mistaken any of the words. Yet even so, try though she might to comprehend it, she couldn't wrap her head fully around the enormity of what she held in her hands. How could the order which her preceptor had so esteemed and protected be shattered? Had there been some kind of mistake on her part? Because she had failed in her duties, then, was everything going to fall apart? No, no, no. It couldn't be. If it had been her doing, then why would Inari-sama warn her in such a manner? Rather, if she was the one at fault, the spirits wouldn't have come to her seeking aid, but rather surely would have punished her directly for her impudence. Even if she had somehow gravely insulted them, they surely wouldn't have gone back on their word and abandoned their compact with the entire village. Which meant that maybe... there was yet something she could do. Miorochi-sama would wake soon, and then perhaps whatever impurities had crept in and breached the contract could yet be excised, and the harmony of Heiseina mended. But what? What was she supposed to do in this sort of situation?

She hadn't been trained for this. Her grandma would surely know what to do in this kind of situation, but... Oyuki wasn't like her. Could she appeal to the Spirits somehow? Impossible. She didn't even know their names. She didn't have any kind of special powers -- she was just a girl playing at being something bigger than herself. A naive child whose hands were still far too small and frail to repay her debts, no matter how she grew into an adult's shape.

She took a deep breath. It didn't matter. The spirits had placed this responsibility in her hands; that meant she had to see it through. Firstly, she'd start with what she did know, and work from there. An important spirit was currently at her shrine, and judging by its fidgeting and shifting towards the gate from whence it had come, wanted to be gone quickly. She couldn't let it leave empty-handed; that would be shirking her duty. So, reaching into the voluminous folds of her long white sleeve, she withdrew a small strip of dried meat, one of many such small treats she carried with her at all times in case she encountered one of the smaller, wilder youkai on her walks. It wasn't much, but it was the best offering she happened to have on hand at the moment, and a meager gift was better than giving nothing at all. Kneeling down upon the cobblestones, she placed it before the fox, bowing deeply.

"You have my utmost gratitude for bringing me this warning. I will -- The village of Heiseina will do everything in our power to mend that which was broken, and protect the sanctity of this place and this shrine from whatever may come. Please continue to watch over us, as you always have."

She did not dare to raise her head while uttering this prayer, for she knew that everything she said now would be heard not only by Miorochi-sama, the kami of the shrine, but also ultimately perhaps even by Inari-sama, the great kami of providence and fortune who had sent this messenger to her. She chose her words and her manner of speaking, then, as if she was addressing both in person. To even speak to them this directly already verged on overstepping her mortal authority, but even so, when one was granted a boon, one was expected to return their gratitude.

After she finished speaking, however, she was left at a momentary impasse. Namely... when would it be proper to raise her head? She didn't hear the fox moving at all, and couldn't tell whether or not it had accepted her gift. She had expected to hear paws upon the cobblestones, or some kind of signal... but what she actually heard was a loud meowing, followed by a muffled exclamation from down the stairs and the sound of something - or rather, someone - tumbling to the ground. Opening her eyes and raising her head, she found that the fox had disappeared without a trace, taking the meat she'd offered with it. Well, at least her return gift had been accepted... No, but now wasn't the time for that! Someone had just fallen on the stairs, and it sounded like they were hurt. Quickly rising and stuffing the scroll into her sleeve, she rushed under the cracked and faded red torii gate and looked down from the top of the stairs to find her unexpected visitor, lying against the stones just a few steps shy of the top of the hill. As she met his gaze from under her hood, recognition flashed across her face, followed by an intense worry slipping into her bright blue eyes.

"E-eh? Masaki-sensei? Oh, dear...!" Hastily descending the stairs, she knelt down, first retrieving his crutch, then extending a small, pale hand to help him up and speaking a flurry of questions, evidently looking him over for any scrapes, cuts, or bruises. "Are you alright? Did you hit your head? Please, allow me to help you stand."

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

---

Before the dawn had finished creeping over the horizon, and long before any of the other villagers had roused themselves from sleep, a lone figure clad in a blue kimono, a hooded white robe, and a woven mantle of tattered straw could be glimpsed walking upon the hillside road on the verge of the Mumbling Wood. She moved slowly, methodically, swaying slightly from side to side as she walked, and periodically rapping the dull butt of her shakujō staff against the path before her, causing the six rings and countless small bells trailing from its circular head to jingle in the morning breeze. The howling of the distant Yokai grew fainter, replaced by the serene chiming of bells, then by the song of birds as the maiden passed by in her walk.

It was important that Oyuki do her rounds thus, for a number of reasons. For one thing, her presence was a reminder to the Yokai of the pact, and that the village was to be protected. And, for another, it was her duty to greet the spirits in this auspicious time, and offer them gifts and her best wishes.

They still didn't trust her enough to speak with her directly, of course. After all, even though she had been doing this for almost three years now, that span of time was a mere moment in the eyes of those who had roamed these forests when the mountains were still young. Indeed, it would no doubt take another decade or more before they would tell her their names, as they had once done for the one who had taught her everything she now knew, and who had once led her by the hand and walked this very path down the mountainside so long ago, on a cold day much like this one.

While others might have resented the long winter, Oyuki found it reassuring. The snow always brought with it unpleasant memories -- but it also carried with it the reminder of something precious. How could she hate the very source of her own name? How could she grieve when she had been given so much? It was only on cold days that one could truly treasure the warmth they still had. The oft-mended robe she wore, the staff she carried, and the duty she proudly and gladly conducted were all treasures more precious still than the joy that had once been taken from her. And when she looked to the still-snowy peaks high overhead, she did so with a faint, melancholy smile.

She still had a long way to go -- but when she looked back at the path she had walked, she couldn't but give thanks for how far she had already come. The spirits had already stopped fleeing at the sound of her bells, and even now, she could almost spot a few eager eyes watching her from the other side of the trees. Silently, she stopped, then knelt by the roadside, reaching into her sleeve and withdrawing a few small rice cakes, wrapped in leaves, which she placed in a stone bowl before clapping her hands once.

"Please be sure to share them with everyone, if they're to your liking. I will bring by more in the afternoon, so please look forward to it."

Giving this address to the silent forest before her, the pale young woman smiled sheepishly under her hood, then bowed and began to walk away. As she did, she could already hear the rustling in the leaves behind her, but politely refused to look back. After all, they would show themselves when they wanted to be seen. This was what she was taught.

Her walk continued all along the perimeter of the forest, and included several other stops. Last night's frigid rainstorm had knocked over the stones piled before the old Jizo who watched over the roads, so she made sure to stack them neatly back up again. Seeing as the kindly old statue seemed terribly cold and forlorn, and the hat she had made him had blown away, she removed her own straw mantle and draped it over the guardian's shoulders, offering a prayer as she tied it securely onto him for his continued help in watching over the village and its children.

Of all the spirits, the guardian Jizo was one to whom she felt a particular sense of closeness. After all, she herself had once come down this road as a destitute orphan in need of shelter, and surely, he had been watching over her ever since. There was something in his kindly smile that seemed to tell her so, and so she always took special care to make sure he was warm and shielded from the rain.

"Please watch over me... over all of us, in the year to come. And thank you."

She thus diligently passed the remainder of her solitary walk, leaving an offering here, giving a prayer there, and everywhere showing that there was yet one in Heiseina who remembered the old contract. Truth be told, it was always a little sad, following this path alone, and when she would first set out in the morning retracing the footsteps of those who had gone before her, even after all these years it was hard not to cry. And yet, there was something about it that was liberating as well, reassuring her that her efforts weren't in vain -- that she wasn't alone, even if she couldn't see those who walked beside her. By the time she found herself back at the foot of the shrine's long staircase, shielding her eyes against the dawn shining through the torii gate, she would always be smiling, and she always did her best to take that smile with her through the rest of the day.

She put up her staff by the offering box, and went to draw water to cleanse her hands. After so doing, she set about her usual chores, sweeping the courtyard, cleaning the outside of the shrine, and them preparing breakfast both for herself and for any Yokai who might drop in to visit that morning. When she'd finished her own meal, she put out several extra trays by the back step, then headed to the outbuilding to take some lanterns out of storage. It was a little early, to be sure, but she'd feel more at ease once they were hung in preparation for the festival. Besides, if the shrine looked more welcoming, then maybe the villagers would feel less uneasy about the upcoming festival. Maybe... they'd trust that she could actually handle the responsibility, this time.

But such hopeful thoughts were swiftly turned to confusion as she heard the sound of skittering paws scrambling frantically up the steps. Turning to glance at the source of the sound, she found herself face to face(?) with a small white fox, which tossed down a small scroll at her feet, then began to yip and yelp with tremendous urgency. She nearly dropped the storehouse key that she was holding as it at last sank in what exactly she was looking at. Even for her dear Aunt, the once-beloved Miko of Miorochi's shrine, such a guest would be considered unfathomably rare. And though she'd have loved to call such a once-in-a-lifetime visit auspicious, judging by the creature's desperation, the circumstances were anything but.

"Please, stay a moment and rest, servant of Inari-sama. You've clearly come a long way. Erm... Then, I hope I'm not being presumptuous, but I'll look over your message at once." Giving this hasty offer of welcome - as she did not want to be disrespectful, but her guest's mannerisms clearly suggested that now was not the time for pleasantries - she wasted no time in bowing, then knelt to retrieve the scroll. Unfolding it, she cast her eyes over the message there contained... and felt a chill run up her spine. Her eyes went wide, and her blood ran cold as a chill wind swept through the shrine's courtyard like a forewarning of the storm yet to come.

"What... What is this?"

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

白鷺 雪 (Shirasagi Yuki)

OST For Ambiance: Na Mo Naki Kizu

_______________________________________________ // INFO P E R S O N A L D E T A I L S Name - Shirasagi Yuki Age - 22 Gender - Female Occupation - Seamstress and Shrine Caretaker // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Wallflower - Oyuki, while polite, is more often seen than heard. She seldom speaks, and when she does, seldom raises her voice. The source from whence her unflappable composure stems, however, is somewhat difficult to discern. Perhaps it is simply the result of a long-cultivated discipline, or perhaps she's simply somewhat oblivious by nature? Regardless, she usually seems to be paying attention to the people around her, and is polite enough to nod along with their comments; she just doesn't often chime in unless a response is specifically solicited from her, seeming more than happy just to listen in silence. Dutiful - Due to her aforementioned tendency towards silence, one could be pardoned for not realizing the seriousness with which Oyuki treats any and all debts or obligations. The upstanding lady caretaker of the shrine lives her life by the motto of repaying any kindness she receives twofold, and if one does her a favor, then they can expect to see their generosity fully returned with gratitude. When one realizes this, the reason for her aloof and unusual lifestyle becomes more clear. After all, what sort of remuneration can one offer for a debt which can never be repaid? Timid - Despite her outward composure and elegance, Oyuki is honestly a rather shy person. She knows only enough of the world to realize the scope of her own ignorance and powerlessness, and fears that awareness more than anything. The spirits whose wills she can neither predict nor appease, the people whose expectations she can neither meet nor shake, the knowledge that her life is empty and her own ignorance of how to fill it; all these things weigh down on her heavily, and compel her to withdraw into the comfort of her familiar home and routine. So long as she doesn't look too directly at the world beyond her own small life, perhaps she can somehow escape its notice - so she hopes, and so each and every day continues on, the same as the one before it, giving her some small measure of comfort. // SKILLSET S K I L L S E T Self-Reliant Though it may not sound like much, Oyuki has grown quite used to living by herself ever since her guardian's premature death a few years ago. During her time assisting around the Heiseina Shrine, she's grown quite adept at performing the various odd jobs necessary to keep things tidy. Whether it's cooking, sweeping, dusting, cleaning, setting out small offerings for the spirits, or maintaining the various scrolls, idols, and relics entrusted to the shrine for safekeeping, she handles it all with the same level of discipline and dedication. Despite having the entire shrine to look after and being just one woman, she's done an admirable job of keeping it from crumbling into disuse. Seamstress While her talents as a housekeeper are already quite good, Oyuki's skills at sewing, mending, and embroidering clothes are far above and beyond anyone else in the village. It is by this trade that she provides for herself, and pays for the occasional bit of repairs when some part or another of the old shrine gets a little too worn down with age. Sometimes she buys cloth from the villagers, other times she conjures it painstakingly, thread by thread, by herself, using her knowledge of the Mending sign, as well as a more esoteric sign, Thread, which allows her to convert various materials into thread, which she then spins by hand into cloth with which to create her finished products. Regardless of the distance she puts between herself and the community, she never has any shortage of requests and orders to take care of, be they commissions for new clothing, or requests to mend old heirlooms. She handles them all with a smile and a deft hand, and her needlework is second to none. Shrine Maiden's Protege Raised by the former Miko of Heiseina, Oyuki was taught from a young age the rudiments of the duties that position carries. She knows the names of many of the major spirits of the valley, and is familiar with their history and of the offerings they are most fond of. She even knows a sign for a rudimentary Blessing, warding off evil spirits and misfortune wherever it is inscribed. She is less familiar, however, with the proper way to administer more complicated rites. Various ritual prayers, dances, ceremonies, blessings and benedictions that would traditionally be passed down to a true Miko never made their way to her, as her guardian never got the chance to properly teach her everything she needed to know before passing on, leaving Oyuki to pour over old books and scrolls and try to learn for herself what she must do to follow in the footsteps of the great woman to whom she owes so much. Though she may be lacking in knowledge now, the foundations have been laid for her to perhaps one day blossom into an admirable Miko herself, if given the chance.

Physical Description Lady Oyuki, as she is often called by the other villagers, can be decisively called striking at a mere glance. Her skin is as fair and pale as the snow she is named after, while her long, straight hair is a sharply contrasting shade of jet black. Meeting her gaze, one will find large, rounded eyes of a pale, icy blue framed in long, elegant lashes; eyes that peer keenly out from between a high-set brow above and rounded, rosy cheeks below. Her gaze is tranquil, pure, and piercing; it is almost more like looking back at one's reflection in the mirror-like surface of a frozen lake than meeting the eyes of a fellow human being. Serving to offset her eyes' pale color, however, Oyuki's full lips are a lush red, and the narrow, sharp jawline beneath them serves likewise to counterbalance the roundness of her cheeks. Her whole countenance is a synthesis of opposing extremes both physical and chromatic that all somehow exist in an almost perfect balance of harmony with one another, creating a sense of beauty that is wholly her own. Despite the intensity of her facial features, however, her build is rather lean, and in certain aspects rather petite. She is tall for a woman, but with narrow shoulders, somewhat short arms, and small, dainty hands. Her figure could best be described as shapely but modest, being neither particularly lean nor voluptuous. However, unlike most of the other villagers, she is rather scrawny, having lived a sheltered life with little to no exposure to the sun or to difficult manual labor. As such, she lacks muscle almost entirely, save what little she has accumulated from simple household chores and occasional walks in the woods around the village. Thus, all these factors combine to create a beautiful woman who, while not exactly diminutive, seems as graceful as a heron, as fragile as glass, and as fleeting and ephemeral as snow. She favors modest, rather conservative attire, almost all of which is either of her own making, or a hand-me-down from the previous shrine maiden. Almost all her outfits feature multiple layers and show off very little skin, with the long, flowing, curtain-like sleeves of her furisode often hiding even her hands from view, while various hooded gowns, cloaks, and mantles serve to cover her neck and head from the elements, and long skirts trail almost clear down to her sandal-clad feet. Most of her kimonos do not display any ostentatious patterns or eye-catching ornaments, however, and they also lack a clan seal or personal crest of any kind. Pure, simple colors in complimentary hues make up the bulk of her wardrobe. But, of all the colors she wears, blue suits her best - and thus most often finds its way onto her person. As far as accessories go, she does not often wear them. However, on special occasions, she will occasionally don a small hairpin, decorated with a few colorful stones and an ornament carved in the shape of a lily. It's a cherished possession that formerly belonged to the previous shrine maiden, and she thus takes great care of it. Other such heirlooms make up the bulk of her accoutrements: a roughly-whittled reed flute, and a tall walking staff adorned with a brass head -- a sacred tool donated to the shrine by an itinerant priest said to have entered the valley generations ago, adorned with several rings and consecrated bells attached by strands of braided cord, said to help pacify spirits and ward off evil. This, in particular, was favored by the previous Shrine Maiden, and as her keepsake remains Oyuki's constant companion on her walks, its jingling bells ever and always heralding her arrival. Character Conceptualization A mysterious, beautiful young woman who has lived at the Heiseina shrine for as long as most children of the village can remember. Though the older members of the village often respectfully but distantly call her "Lady Oyuki," it's unclear to the village children and adolescents precisely where this respect -- or perhaps fear -- comes from. The adults, however, know better, and often look to the high slopes of the valley when they speak of her, where a ruined manor house sprawls upon a high plateau, overlooking the village from a perch blanketed almost year-round by snow. The Shirasagi family was once a respected, wealthy house. They had settled upon land blessed by the spirits of the valley, where their flocks and herds could graze and eat their fill upon grasses that grew perpetually. They looked down on the other villagers from the comfort of their manor, and their words carried great weight among the elders of the town. The daughter of this blessed house, rumored to be a great beauty, would surely one day have been the most beloved and sought-after bride in all the village. But something about her attracted the attention of more than just humans. There was an evil spirit from beyond the valley that longed for a child to call her own, and would stop at nothing to claim one; to raise, to bend to her will, and then, ultimately, to feed upon as she came into maturity, to restore the hag's own lost youth. Catching sight of this beautiful girl as she gazed from her balcony into the woods, the ancient hag's wicked soul was filled with desire. If she could claim such a child's vitality, surely her own aged body could be restored. And so, in the dead of winter, the ancient hag stole into the valley, violating the sanctity of the spirits and cursing the land with her intrusion. A thick, heavy snow began to fall without end, chasing out the spirits who would protect her prey from her, and scourging the once-verdant hill of life. The great manor was frozen in ice, and the child was snatched from her parents' grasp. Though they struggled and screamed, they could do nothing to stop the ancient hag or her magic - and were at last frozen to lifeless husks where they stood. But before the child could be dragged back beyond the valley and into the realm from whence the evil youkai had come, the spirits she had chased away returned, bringing with them their staunch ally. The sound of bells ringing amidst the stillness of the snow. The sight of a proud back, standing between her and the unknown that threatened to devour her very existence. The feeling of a warm cloak wrapped around her as she was carried from the crumbling halls of her once proud home, and a reassuring, gentle voice telling her that the world had not yet ended. It was thus that the trembling, confused little girl came to find herself brought to the shrine. She didn't know what had happened, or why she had to lose everything -- but at the very least, she was not yet alone. Her new guardian treated her with the utmost kindness, consoling her for her loss and raising her as if the young Yuki was her own child. And as she grew older and came to understand her circumstances, she did not do so with bitterness, but with gratitude. Her parents had been willing to part with their own lives to save her. Her dear, precious grandmother had rushed to her side to save her, and was always there to protect her whenever she was afraid. No matter how much she had lost, she knew above all else that she was loved. Thus, above all else, she desired to return that love. To repay kindness with kindness became her motto, and she worked harder than ever to provide whatever comfort she could in return to the hero who had saved her life. She learned to cook, to sew, to embroider, and many other things, all so that she could provide gift after gift to her cherished grandmother As the only family she had left, and knowing that she could lose that family in an instant, she showered her mentor with all the childish affection and admiration she could, and was doted upon in return, prompting her to redouble her efforts to repay her ever increasing debt of gratitude. In short, no matter what darkness she had seen, her childhood was happy. Yet, it was also shallow. The hag had been driven away, but was far too powerful to be sealed or slain. In spiriting her away, it had left its mark on her, and would stop at nothing to claim her for its own. If her name was so much as spoken, surely, the hag would reappear -- called by the curse it had left upon her on that winter's night so long ago. And if she left the consecrated grounds of the shrine, then surely, it would find her, and the tragedy of her youth would be repeated. And so, she was kept sequestered within the shrine itself, from the time she was a child all the way up until she came of age, and the hag's claim upon her was broken -- deprived of the company of all save for her guardian. ...Or, at least, so it should have been. But although her dear grandma was unable to tell anyone of her existence, bound to secrecy by the very magic by which she had saved the girl -- that did not prevent a particularly curious village girl from finding her all by herself. Under the alias of Fuyuko, she made her first friend -- a girl bearing the very essence of spring. And, at long last, her wintry heart began to thaw, and joy she had thought she would never again know began to bloom anew, amidst the ashes of what once was. Perhaps it was not quite the same as the days that had been so cruelly taken from her. But it was family, and she was not alone. But this all changed when she at last came of age, and shortly thereafter, her mentor and protector passed away, as if the old woman's humble purpose was at long last fulfilled. So it was that the confused Yuki once again took up the name of a family now thought dead for at least a decade, and came to have dealings with the village itself after her long seclusion. The reactions her appearance garnered were mixed. Some thought she could not have been real -- that it was a ghost rather than a real girl that the old miko had so painstakingly kept hidden, that she was made of ice and would suck the life out of those who got too close to her, or spirit them away as she herself had been taken as a child. Others pitied her for the tragic life she had lived, offering to take her in and grant her sanctuary now that her guardian, too, was gone. Still others admired her for her beauty, and even went so far as to seek after the hand of this fair, mysterious maiden. Yet she, too shy to meet such fervent affections, retreated back to the safety and the familiarity of her shrine, and refused those who sought to court her as well as those who sought to take her in and offer her shelter. After all... she still had a debt to repay. This shrine was her home. It was the place the person she had cherished more dearly even than her own parents had lived to protect. It was her duty, then, to see it taken care of. She could not leave. She would not betray her savior's memory. She would show her gratitude through her earnest devotion, her prayers, and her hard work. So it is that she has continued to maintain the shrine and follow in her mentor's footsteps, up until the present day. And so, when one walks in the woods around the village, one often hears the jingling of bells and distant footsteps just a little further ahead. When one goes to market, one can see a hooded young lady buying fabric and selling clothes. And when one approaches the shrine on the edge of town late in the day, one can sometimes hear the mournful sound of a reed flute echoing between the cliffs overhead, like the cries of a bird. So it has always been. So it will always be. As patient as a heron, waiting calmly upon still waters, the mysterious Lady Oyuki continues each day as she always has, living with constancy, with honesty, with duty, and with gratitude. In that sense, perhaps she isn't so dissimilar from the spirits she seeks to appease - and perhaps that is why they are content to accept her ministrations, inexperienced though she may be.

Heiseina: Memories Long Forgotten

She's back.

鶴ケ峰 雪 (Tsurugamine Yuki)

OST For Ambiance: Na Mo Naki Kizu

_______________________________________________ // INFO P E R S O N A L D E T A I L S Name - Tsurugamine Yuki Age - 24 Gender - Female Occupation - Seamstress and Shrine Caretaker // PERSONALITY P E R S O N A L I T Y Wallflower - Oyuki, while polite, is more often seen than heard. She seldom speaks, and when she does, seldom raises her voice. The source from whence her unflappable composure stems, however, is somewhat difficult to discern. Perhaps it is simply the result of a long-cultivated discipline, or perhaps she's simply somewhat oblivious by nature? Regardless, she usually seems to be paying attention to the people around her, and is polite enough to nod along with their comments; she just doesn't often chime in unless a response is specifically solicited from her, seeming more than happy just to listen in silence. Dutiful - Due to her aforementioned tendency towards silence, one could be pardoned for not realizing the seriousness with which Oyuki treats any and all debts or obligations. The upstanding lady caretaker of the shrine lives her life by the motto of repaying any kindness she receives twofold, and if one does her a favor, then they can expect to see their generosity fully returned with gratitude. When one realizes this, the reason for her aloof and unusual lifestyle becomes more clear. After all, what sort of remuneration can one offer for a debt which can never be repaid? Timid - Despite her outward composure and elegance, Oyuki is honestly a rather shy person. She knows only enough of the world to realize the scope of her own ignorance and powerlessness, and fears that awareness more than anything. The spirits whose wills she can neither predict nor appease, the people whose expectations she can neither meet nor shake, the knowledge that her life is empty and her own ignorance of how to fill it; all these things weigh down on her heavily, and compel her to withdraw into the comfort of her familiar home and routine. So long as she doesn't look too directly at the world beyond her own small life, perhaps she can somehow escape its notice - so she hopes, and so each and every day continues on, the same as the one before it, giving her some small measure of comfort. // SKILLSET S K I L L S E T Self-Reliant Though it may not sound like much, Oyuki has grown quite used to living by herself ever since her guardian's premature death a few years ago. During her time assisting around the Heiseina Shrine, she's grown quite adept at performing the various odd jobs necessary to keep things tidy. Whether it's cooking, sweeping, dusting, cleaning, setting out small offerings for the spirits, or maintaining the various scrolls, idols, and relics entrusted to the shrine for safekeeping, she handles it all with the same level of discipline and dedication. Despite having the entire shrine to look after and being just one woman, she's done an admirable job of keeping it from crumbling into disuse. Seamstress While her talents as a housekeeper are already quite good, Oyuki's skills at sewing, mending, and embroidering clothes are far above and beyond anyone else in the village. It is by this trade that she provides for herself, and pays for the occasional bit of repairs when some part or another of the old shrine gets a little too worn down with age. Sometimes she buys cloth from the villagers, other times she conjures it painstakingly, thread by thread, by herself, using her knowledge of the Mending sign, as well as a more esoteric sign, Thread, which allows her to convert various materials into thread, which she then spins by hand into cloth with which to create her finished products. Regardless of the distance she puts between herself and the community, she never has any shortage of requests and orders to take care of, be they commissions for new clothing, or requests to mend old heirlooms. She handles them all with a smile and a deft hand, and her needlework is second to none. Shrine Maiden's Protege Raised by the former Miko of Heiseina, Oyuki was taught from a young age the rudiments of the duties that position carries. She knows the names of many of the major spirits of the valley, and is familiar with their history and of the offerings they are most fond of. She even knows a sign for a rudimentary Blessing, warding off evil spirits and misfortune wherever it is inscribed. She is less familiar, however, with the proper way to administer more complicated rites. Various ritual prayers, dances, ceremonies, blessings and benedictions that would traditionally be passed down to a true Miko never made their way to her, as her guardian never got the chance to properly teach her everything she needed to know before passing on, leaving Oyuki to pour over old books and scrolls and try to learn for herself what she must do to follow in the footsteps of the great woman to whom she owes so much. Though she may be lacking in knowledge now, the foundations have been laid for her to perhaps one day blossom into an admirable Miko herself, if given the chance.

Physical Description Lady Oyuki, as she is often called by the other villagers, can be decisively called striking at a mere glance. Her skin is as fair and pale as the snow she is named after, while her long, straight hair is a sharply contrasting shade of jet black. Meeting her gaze, one will find large, rounded eyes of a pale, icy blue framed in long, elegant lashes; eyes that peer keenly out from between a high-set brow above and rounded, rosy cheeks below. Her gaze is tranquil, pure, and piercing; it is almost more like looking back at one's reflection in the mirror-like surface of a frozen lake than meeting the eyes of a fellow human being. Serving to offset her eyes' pale color, however, Oyuki's full lips are a lush red, and the narrow, sharp jawline beneath them serves likewise to counterbalance the roundness of her cheeks. Her whole countenance is a synthesis of opposing extremes both physical and chromatic that all somehow exist in an almost perfect balance of harmony with one another, creating a sense of beauty that is wholly her own. Despite the intensity of her facial features, however, her build is rather lean, and in certain aspects rather petite. She is tall for a woman, but with narrow shoulders, somewhat short arms, and small, dainty hands. Her figure could best be described as shapely but modest, being neither particularly lean nor voluptuous. However, unlike most of the other villagers, she is rather scrawny, having lived a sheltered life with little to no exposure to the sun or to difficult manual labor. As such, she lacks muscle almost entirely, save what little she has accumulated from simple household chores and occasional walks in the woods around the village. Thus, all these factors combine to create a beautiful woman who, while not exactly diminutive, seems as graceful as a crane, as fragile as glass, and as fleeting and ephemeral as snow. She favors modest, rather conservative attire, almost all of which is either of her own making, or a hand-me-down from the previous shrine maiden. Almost all her outfits feature multiple layers and show off very little skin, with the long, flowing, curtain-like sleeves of her furisode often hiding even her hands from view, while various hooded gowns, cloaks, and mantles serve to cover her neck and head from the elements, and long skirts trail almost clear down to her sandal-clad feet. Most of her kimonos do not display any ostentatious patterns or eye-catching ornaments, however, and they also lack a clan seal or personal crest of any kind. Pure, simple colors in complimentary hues make up the bulk of her wardrobe. But, of all the colors she wears, blue suits her best - and thus most often finds its way onto her person. As far as accessories go, she does not often wear them. However, on special occasions, she will occasionally don a small hairpin, decorated with a few colorful stones and an ornament carved in the shape of a lily. It's a cherished possession that formerly belonged to the previous shrine maiden, and she thus takes great care of it. Other such heirlooms make up the bulk of her accoutrements: a roughly-whittled reed flute, and a tall walking staff adorned with a brass head -- a sacred tool donated to the shrine by an itinerant priest said to have entered the valley generations ago, adorned with several rings and consecrated bells attached by strands of braided cord, said to help pacify spirits and ward off evil. This, in particular, was favored by the previous Shrine Maiden, and as her keepsake remains Oyuki's constant companion on her walks, its jingling bells ever and always heralding her arrival. Character Conceptualization A mysterious, beautiful young woman who has lived at the Heiseina shrine for as long as most children of the village can remember. Though the older members of the village often respectfully but distantly call her "Lady Oyuki," it's unclear to the village children and adolescents precisely where this respect -- or perhaps fear -- comes from. The adults, however, know better, and often look to the high slopes of the valley when they speak of her, where a ruined manor house sprawls upon a high plateau, overlooking the village from a perch blanketed almost year-round by snow. The Tsurugamine family was once a respected, wealthy house. They had settled upon land blessed by the spirits of the valley, where their flocks and herds could graze and eat their fill upon grasses that grew perpetually. They looked down on the other villagers from the comfort of their manor, and their words carried great weight among the elders of the town. The daughter of this blessed house, rumored to be a great beauty, would surely one day have been the most beloved and sought-after bride in all the village. But something about her attracted the attention of more than just humans. There was an evil spirit from beyond the valley that longed for a child to call her own, and would stop at nothing to claim one; to raise, to bend to her will, and then, ultimately, to feed upon as she came into maturity, to restore the hag's own lost youth. Catching sight of this beautiful girl as she gazed from her balcony into the woods, the ancient hag's wicked soul was filled with desire. If she could claim such a child's vitality, surely her own aged body could be restored. And so, in the dead of winter, the ancient hag stole into the valley, violating the sanctity of the spirits and cursing the land with her intrusion. A thick, heavy snow began to fall without end, chasing out the spirits who would protect her prey from her, and scourging the once-verdant hill of life. The great manor was frozen in ice, and the child was snatched from her parents' grasp. Though they struggled and screamed, they could do nothing to stop the ancient hag or her magic - and were at last frozen to lifeless husks where they stood. But before the child could be dragged back beyond the valley and into the realm from whence the evil youkai had come, the spirits she had chased away returned, bringing with them their staunch ally. The sound of bells ringing amidst the stillness of the snow. The sight of a proud back, standing between her and the unknown that threatened to devour her very existence. The feeling of a warm cloak wrapped around her as she was carried from the crumbling halls of her once proud home, and a reassuring, gentle voice telling her that the world had not yet ended. It was thus that the trembling, confused little girl came to find herself brought to the shrine. She didn't know what had happened, or why she had to lose everything -- but at the very least, she was not yet alone. Her new guardian treated her with the utmost kindness, consoling her for her loss and raising her as if the young Yuki was her own child. And as she grew older and came to understand her circumstances, she did not do so with bitterness, but with gratitude. Her parents had been willing to part with their own lives to save her. Her dear, precious grandmother had rushed to her side to save her, and was always there to protect her whenever she was afraid. No matter how much she had lost, she knew above all else that she was loved. Thus, above all else, she desired to return that love. To repay kindness with kindness became her motto, and she worked harder than ever to provide whatever comfort she could in return to the hero who had saved her life. She learned to cook, to sew, to embroider, and many other things, all so that she could provide gift after gift to her cherished grandmother As the only family she had left, and knowing that she could lose that family in an instant, she showered her mentor with all the childish affection and admiration she could, and was doted upon in return, prompting her to redouble her efforts to repay her ever increasing debt of gratitude. In short, no matter what darkness she had seen, her childhood was happy. Yet, it was also shallow. The hag had been driven away, but was far too powerful to be sealed or slain. If she left the consecrated grounds of the shrine, then surely, the tragedy of her youth would be repeated. And so, she was kept sequestered within the shrine itself, from the time she was a child all the way up until she came of age, deprived of the company of all save for her guardian. But this all changed when she at last came of age, and shortly thereafter, her mentor and protector passed away, as if the old woman's humble purpose was at long last fulfilled. So it was that the confused Yuki, the long-rumored daughter of a family now thought dead for at least a decade, came to have dealings with the village itself after her long seclusion. The reactions her appearance garnered were mixed. Some thought she could not have been real -- that it was a ghost rather than a real girl that the old miko had so painstakingly kept hidden, that she was made of ice and would suck the life out of those who got too close to her, or spirit them away as she herself had been taken as a child. Others pitied her for the tragic life she had lived, offering to take her in and grant her sanctuary now that her guardian, too, was gone. Still others admired her for her beauty, and even went so far as to seek after the hand of this fair, mysterious maiden. Yet she, too shy to meet such fervent affections, retreated back to the safety and the familiarity of her shrine, and refused those who sought to court her as well as those who sought to take her in and offer her shelter. After all... she still had a debt to repay. This shrine was her home. It was the place the person she had cherished more dearly even than her own parents had lived to protect. It was her duty, then, to see it taken care of. She could not leave. She would not betray her savior's memory. She would show her gratitude through her earnest devotion, her prayers, and her hard work. So it is that she has continued to maintain the shrine and follow in her mentor's footsteps, up until the present day. And so, when one walks in the woods around the village, one often hears the jingling of bells and distant footsteps just a little further ahead. When one goes to market, one can see a hooded young lady buying fabric and selling clothes. And when one approaches the shrine on the edge of town late in the day, one can sometimes hear the mournful sound of a reed flute echoing between the cliffs overhead, like the song of a bird. So it has always been. So it will always be. Like a crane said to live a thousand years, the mysterious Lady Oyuki continues each day as she always has, living with constancy, with honesty, with duty, and with gratitude. In that sense, perhaps she isn't so dissimilar from the spirits she seeks to appease - and perhaps that is why they are content to accept her ministrations, inexperienced though she may be.