It is the beginning of an end, the start of the country's last shogunate era. The Edo period has just begun, even as the nation fights against it. The Tokugawa now rule, alongside the 300 regional daimyo, and samurai command the peasantry under threat of violence. Much change will come with this new era, but before it can, the last gasp of what came before must be heard.
The age of warring states, the Sengoku period, ended less than a century before. Battlefields still litter the countryside, and the land remembers the taste of blood spilled over its soil. Having swelled during the times of war, the yokai population is far too large for this new age of stability and creativity to support. They seek every conflict they can, working to push the nation back to war.
Currently, the Ikko-ikki stand as the single greatest force of chaos in the land. Small groups of commoners, angered by the new laws of the Edo period, work with sohei to stand against their new daimyo with plans to overthrow the government in its entirety. Assisting them are the sohei, warrior monks who have stood against samurai armies from within their fortress monasteries. With the help of these monks, the Ikko-ikki form small groups all across the nations who work independently of each other to fight back against their local daimyo.
Revolutionaries or terrorists, traitors or heros, their actions bring about bloodshed and violence. This draws out the now-starving yokai, who are eager to escalate every conflict to its absolute extreme. Seeing the danger, the sohei of the nation go to the Ikko-ikki offering assistance in their fight, but secretly work to defeat the yokai the conflict draws out. Most do so from within their temples, leaving only when they must. One such monk, however, has taken to traveling the country to fight the yokai.
Along his way, this monk finds many unique adventures, and discovers that the world is a much grander place than he had been taught at his temple. While he travels, he meets friends and eventually companions. It is uncertain if he will see the new government unseated by the people, but it is his goal to see the end of the evil yokai that threaten his home.
Welcome to my interest check! If you've read the story, you have a general idea of what this is. If not, then think of it as a setting crossed between Inuyasha and Samurai Champloo. While it won't directly reference either of those two, it's set in Japanese history and culture and gets a lot of inspiration from those anime.
I will be playing the part of a sohei; a monk warrior devoted to defeating the evil monsters of Japanese mythology, while also seeking to help the common man fight back against their latest tyrant. This particular sohei will be traveling the country, encountering many creatures and ultimately fighting to defeat the hidden mastermind who's behind all the chaos.
Your character is... Yours! Samurai, priestess, ninja, fellow monk, even just a commoner; These are all options, and there are many more. This is largely how this will be most like the two anime. My character has his own goals and motivations, and so will yours. However, there is no clear path to reach their goals, so they largely simply exist within this world until fortune offers them the next chance to take action.
Now, the technical stuff-
-This RP will deal with a lot of 18+ topics and scenes, so will be done over PMs. As such, please be 18+. I, of course, am 18+ myself.
-I write at an advanced level. I do not expect my partner to match me, but I do ask for at least a high casual standard. Grammar, correct spelling, and two or more paragraphs a post are all I'm really wanting.
-We will be working together to create this story. As such, there will be a wide margin for creative freedom, but there also won't be any single over-arcing plot line. Be prepared to contribute, I will not be telling you a story.
-Generally, I will post at least once a week. I ask that my partner be able to post, at least, that often. If you need to take a break for some reason, or need to miss a week, that's perfectly fine and I understand. However, going into this, please plan to post at least that frequently.
-A note on language; You may have noticed that I use a lot of terms that aren't English. While I don't expect this of my partner, and will be happy to explain any term I use, I use these terms because they are unique to the culture this RP will be exploring. For the most part, I will use these terms consistently, but only when referring to something that does not have a perfect analog in English otherwise. It's best to think of these terms as proper nouns, even though most of them won't be.
Alright, that's about it! If you have questions, feel free to ask here or message me directly.
To anyone interested in RPing with me, but not interested in this specific idea; Please, feel free to send me a PM. I'll happily field all ideas and suggestions. While I make no promises I will take on all partners that come to me, I will talk to anyone.
Melech - The Trudger, Flying over Beck's Skiff, Jundland Wastes
Yelling more profanity as he went up the steps-at this point, he'd almost made a game out of trying to see how many he could remember without accessing cyber memory-Melech headed back to his command deck. When he got there, things looked less than ideal. Beeps, in a glorious display of why it's a very bad idea to model an AI on your own personality, had made things 'ready' for Melech by finding a crate he could use to prop up his injured leg. This was, of course, in complete disregard to the fact Melech did not keep a chair on this level of the ship, in addition to not getting the scanners ready for Melech to reconnect.
While Melech's systems did enable him-a primarily organic being-to directly interact with the ship's controls as though he were a droid, with comparable efficiency, it took time to get them running. When he wasn't plugged into them, though, the drain on the ship's processing power to keep it active was high enough that he programmed them to end the program when he disconnected. Beep's could have restarted those programs, like he knew he was supposed to, and Melech would have been able to resume interfacing with his ship almost immediately. Instead, he'd now have to spend the better part of five minutes doing it himself, all so his robot could trill the closest thing it had to a laugh at him for getting shot in the only limb that could bleed.
Luckily for the skiff, he didn't need his long range scanners to tell him which side of his ship had taken fire from the heavy artillery. Sacrificing pure efficiency, he was able to delay the processes that would connect him to the scanners and a few of the ship's other systems all so he could bring shield controls online faster. Control of the ship's navigation already had similar protocols in place, specifically in case he needed to quickly take direct control of piloting his ship. Once the shield controls were up, he was able to adjust and redirect power to the forward shields to brace them for the impact of the heavier fire.
Once the shields were ready, he'd drop down in front of the skiff, putting the Trudger directly between the enemy's big gun and it's main target. The Trudger was by no means a small ship, so it would provide ample cover to the skiff. However, without his more complex systems online-Beeps rolling on the floor, trilling loudly, after Melech stubbed his toe on the crate while trying to kick it aside-there were no fancy tricks he'd be able to pull off to counter clever aim. The enemy might not be able to get a hit off on the engine, and anyone smart enough would be able to figure out a safe place to hide on the skiff, but there was more than ample opportunity to deal lasting damage with a well-placed round. At the very least, though, Melech's strategy meant the enemy would need time to aim, and would be hard pressed to get off two or three shots where before they could have gotten off nearly a dozen.
Einkel took the coin offered to him. He would not have pushed for an increase in pay, but he was in no position to turn down the offer. Truth be told, that bottle would have sold for enough coin to hold him over through the winter months, when the swamp yielded the least for him to harvest. Hopefully Bartholomew meant his offer, as Einkel would likely be making those hog roasts a staple of his diet.
"Och, Bartholomew, tis men like ye tha' make et asay tah be a good mahn. Oh," he continued, a thought coming to mind. "Ye may want tah get tha Tankward ready for a bigger crood. Soon as ward get oot tha' the preeze this year ez-" Abruptly, he was cut off, as a young boy-or perhaps a grown halfling-went racing away from their group. The short fellow began shouting, explaining as loud as he could, that the prize for the Tankard's contest was a bottle of the Emerald Fairy.
'So, a halfling, then.' Einkel thought to himself. As expected, people took notice, and it was hard indeed to miss the large bartender holding a bottle that shone like a gemstone in the daylight. Within minutes, nearly every merchant offering to make trades was excusing themselves, putting up 'back soon' signs and racing each other to get to the bar. Einkel had known that this particular spirit was quite coveted among the merchants that came to the harvest festival from out of town, but it only dawned on him now that perhaps it was worth more than he had been selling it for. By the size of the line forming out of the Tankard's entrance, something told him he should get his 'business partner' to look into how much those bottles had been selling for once they left Swampmuck.
"Wait, a thousand gold?" he asked in dwarven, once more addressing his new friend. It was a little rude to talk like that among a mixed crowd, and he knew it, but it felt too good to speak his native tongue not too. " Split between us, that would be over three hundred gold each. With money like that, I could afford a second still. Might even have enough to hire an apprentice. And all for waving around some wands? Well, you can count me up for the job." There he stood, hand held out to seal the deal, a big smile wide on his face.