Aideen doesn't have a custom title currently.
Location: Colorado, US
Born: 2 December 1989
Website: No Information
Joined: 24-June 16
Last Seen: Yesterday at 08:20 pm
Local Time: Jan 17 2018, 06:20 AM
468 posts (0.8 per day)
( 5.93% of total forum posts )
Yesterday at 08:09 pm
Ever since her talk with that noble chick, Bu had been feeling like she was wasting her time. Not in general, but in the more specific sense that she was spending a lot of time hanging around and slacking off while not owning a motorcycle. With a bit of extra effort now, she would be able to hang around and slack off while standing next to her motorcycle. That would be a far preferable alternative, it was basically required for a bosozoku. Now, training the other girl would get her a minor allowance and was bound to be fun and at least as profitable as it was painful, but that wasn't enough. Trouble was, she wasn't very good at anything.
Sure, she had some knowlege of mechanics and auto repair, she'd learned that working on her old bike. But she wasn't a master, hell, she was a pretty poor choice to lead her own club, probably why the meetings were so pointless and infrequent. Of course she could sing and play drums and be ogled but she gave that up and was about as likely to do that again as she was to suddenly pass her classes and be the top student. And she wasn't interested in hopping on or off the casting couch again either. Well, not without some major thorough paperwork agreements set in stone first. Not making that mistake again.
But there had to be something that even she, with her limited skills and hatred of the public eye could manage. Eventually, she found something. It wasn't difficult, it could probably be shifted around to match her school schedule, she was overqualified and yet perfectly underground for it, even if she did have to reveal a bit of her sordid history. So out Bu went to chase a paycheck and came back with a possible lead. And yet, not the one she had expected.
All of that led to this morning. It was quite early but Bu had been up earlier than that, pacing in her room and building up a nervous energy. It was a foul mood, she'd gotten what she wanted but she felt incredibly unprepared. So, with stomach full of knots, she went down to burn away some of the anxiety and prepare for the early afternoon shift.
Bu was glad to see that the place was nearly empty. Who wanted to get up early on their day off, let alone get up early to train? She dragged out a large punching bag and strung it up. Then she filled it up with gravel and straw. Most students would have used it for target practice but Bu wasn't most students. She put her fist up against it and pushed. It barely moved at all. Heavy and hard, like a wall. Perfect.
She tied her hair back and underpinned it with her artifact which stoned up under the hair behind her hair. She began with a few basic punches. Then, very quickly, switched to a far more ferocious barrage of punches and kicks. There wasn't much style or grace to them, she never bothered with such things. She was just trying to get ready for the afternoon. Had to be in the right mindset. The dummy hardly moved and simply made hard crunching noises as hard flesh hit hard stone.
Jan 8 2018, 05:24 PM
Bu had been having a good day, it wasn't fantastic, but it was a significant improvement on Sunday where she had spent a lot of money on a waste of time. Bu was nothing if not outspoken so she'd been simmering about Sunday all morning and then it was finally afternoon and her combat training class had started. Nothing like a few drills and some heavy sparring to improve your mood. It was cathartic really, you could just let all that emotion out, Bu, not being the sort to keep it in, split the time between sparring complaining about her day to her partner.
She had spent the evening before looking to get herself a tattoo. After all, what would be cooler than that. A real finger to the Man. And she had the perfect design too. The fight with the ninja had left its mark, mostly in the form of faded burn scars from wrist to elbow. He'd burned her favorite jacket, her iconic jacket in fact. Also her but she wasn't so much bothered about that. So her tattoo idea was a dragon head coming down from the shoulders and her lower arm would be coming out of its mouth. How cool was that? That'd make the burns almost decorative.
It hadn't turned out. In fact, she'd had to pay for damages. The artist had broken his machine on her shoulder. Like, in seconds it was smoking, the needle was bent, and it was oozing ink everywhere. So maybe she'd forgotten about her artifact. But it hadn't been a problem before. She'd had shots before with it on, she'd cut herself with her razor blades before. She couldn't be blamed. She had been and she'd had to leave without the tattoo or her down payment.
She had been complaining and somebody ratted her out, or maybe the teacher had overheard her. She'd had to listen to a lecture, joy, and been sent to the office to get another one. What a drag. If she heard another lecture on upholding traditional standards of the nobility or whatever she might puke. Stuck up twits. Only one of them was worth a damn.
So there she was, sitting in a chair outside the headmasters office while he did something or other. Could be ages, could be short, she didn't know or care. She slouched down, bare arms, inkless, crossed under her breasts. She was in her workout clothes still too. A tight grey sleeveless tank and just as grey cloth shorts. At least they were a step up from bloomers.
Jan 2 2018, 04:43 PM
A rather long letter delivered to some NPC or other to pass along to those who can see change done. It's all wrapped up officially and given the seal of the Hokkaido Matsudaira.
I request a dispensation granted from the Emperor towards a group of people whose job it will be to go to the forest and document the passing of as well as deal with the bodies of those who have lost their lives in the forest. Blah blah blah, details of the suffering of those who felt they had nothing left, their honor in choosing to no longer be a drain on society. Presentations on society's duty to those who live in it. Honor is spoken of again at length. There's a rather significant focus on how there may be considered honor lost in the single person's contact with the dead but far greater is the honor lost by all who accept the deaths and do nothing about them. Sweeping it under the rug but more Japanese metaphors, you know. Intermingled with it are references to the duty of the ruling types to those who serve. Mostly it deals with clan leaders to the peasant workers and it is primarily anecdotes from Hokkaido but it's obviously a bit of metaphor for the Emperor to all of Japan.
There is some focus on personal experience from Junko's time in the forest on mission, as well as his visits there afterwards. His discovery of another student and his attempts to discover what led to such a sorry state for what could and should have been somebody who could be a great boon to the country. He discusses how many people were thought to be lost in the earthquakes and attacks that might have simply lost everything and disappeared into the forest as they had nothing left.
There is subtle rebuking of the Metsuke who go out only once a year and do only the bare minimum while accepting that this is not their job most of the time. There is mention of some, obviously hinting at rebels, who might use the forest as a dumping ground, as nobody gives much attention to those who lie forgotten among the trees. More passionate statements are made about the crab barrel of people holding others back by challenging their honor when they try and do good. It goes on a bit longer about how a blessing, or even acceptance without rebuke from the Emperor would be enough to allow the poor people who thought they were abandoned in life rest in peace, not abandoned in death.
It goes on a bit longer before wrapping up with more flowery language and then, on extra sheets of paper, lists the more nitty gritty bits of the idea. What it takes to get started, proposals for the sizes of the search parties. Training requirements for volunteers to go out into the forest, both physical and religious. And also a detailed map and scouting plan for the entirety of the forest over several years with assumptions that the campaign will draw in more volunteers and hopefully some funding from donations so as not to burden the government.
He's been working on this for ages, nearly a year, I think the mission that spawned it in his head was shortly after the Earthquake but a fair ways before the rebellion, and so I'm not particularly interested in doing that much work but, you know, this is what it boils down to. Let's call it a club for laying souls to rest. Probably shan't be doing anything with it but it's a good bit for character building, fleshing out characters, etc.
Dec 22 2017, 09:03 PM
I think it'd be fun to push more relationship stuff on her. She's far too independent right now and really needs that grounding influence. Trouble is, there is an element of pickiness here. Bu tends to freak out when it comes to actual romance stuff with girls and when she freaks out, she lashes out. Easily played for comedy or drama, but I'm a big fan of comedy so there's that. In any case, if you think you've got an idea or a pitch, message me on pm or discord or whatever and let's have a chat.
Nov 6 2017, 07:52 PM
There was so much Junko didn't understand about his place in the world. If he were to inherit the clan, he didn't know if he would be able to lead it properly. Certainly, a good amount of his upbringing wasn't exactly noble, disgraceful probably. His life was full of missteps and odd occurrences. No amount of lion slaying was going to make up for the tea ceremonies, dances, and dresses. So honor was already a tricky subject even before he took his first steps on the new path he saw ahead of him. A path of social work.
His time after the war and his missions into the so called suicide forest had opened his eyes to something truly shameful. It greatly affected him to see people left in such a state, forgotten and alone. Surely somebody cared for them somewhere. Surely there was some respite for the lost souls. He had been told that there were expeditions that went out once a year. From personal experience, he knew that it wasn't enough. The strings weren't enough. The number of people they sent out, the skills they carried with them, none of it was enough to really make a difference. Every lost soul in that forest was a stain on his country's honor. A stain he wanted to erase.
Trouble was, dealing with the dead wasn't very honorable either, especially with the taboo of suicide being a taint that stained everything hit touched. Likely that was why efforts in the forest were so pathetic, nobody wanted to be tainted and likely some families would rather never know than have the stain of dishonor touch their name. Disgusting and selfish, it made him sick. They had failed the family once and now failed them after they had died. He desperately wanted to do something about it all but, perhaps with good reason, he wanted to avoid the taint himself. Junko didn't want his behavior to bring any shame to his family name, especially since he would be doing good works, maybe even holy works.
Then Junko had an idea, he would go straight to the nearly top. Not the emperor, he had better things to do than give any attention to some kid, even if it was an Edo student. But the Shogun might be able to grant a special dispensation. Something that said that Junko could do this good and charitable work without loss of honor, maybe even gaining honor for his clan. But he had to frame his arguments right, he had to be passionate without sounding desperate. He had to present his argument with points and counterpoints. He needed examples from history to support him.
For this reason, Junko was in the library. He planned to spend all weekend there. So he'd not really bothered dressing up, or at all. He'd arrived bright and early in his pink and sea foam patterned silk pajamas, a blanket, and lots of notepaper. And since the library opened, he had been there in a corner on a soft chair skimming texts and making notes.