(D6, EN) Frighteningly Relaxing

[Kitsu Murato]

Murato was here after hearing rumors that the Agasha was interested in stories. There were a great number of them he could share about the many spirits he had met... It was ghost story night.

He had sent the invitation and gotten a room prepared to share with his shamisen so he could provide musical tension along with his stories. He did so like performing.

[Agasha Inoshishi]

Inoshishi enters the House, looking around, eyes wide. After a moment, she's escorted back to the room Murato prepared.

"Gosh, this place is so interesting! I'm very excited to hear whatever stories you have to tell. And whatever stories the walls have to tell! I bet this place would tell such interesting stories."

She bows in greeting, a touch late, not really stopping talking.

"How did you find this place? I mean, I know how, it's in this town, so of course, but how did you come to be able to rent a room here? Well, for less recreational activities. Or perhaps, less strenuous activities than I imagine often occur here? Either way, it's so good to see you!"

[Kitsu Murato]

Her energetic flow and refusal to take a breath gets a chuckle from him. "You... have a whole lot of energy don't you? I will be glad to answer the questions you have that I can. But it is easier if they come in groups of less than 5," he jokes. "But let's see how much of that I caught? I found it when I was looking for places to drink. This is one of two places that does so. The rooms can be rented by speaking with the proprietor. They also offer musical and conversational entertainment and distraction, but I tend to bring my own when desired. Let's see... um... I'm not sure what exact activities you are imagining that are recreational and strenuous, but I am certain that I would love to hear about them. And, it is a pleasure to actually get the chance to sit down and get to know you personally Agasha-san," he says, finally offering a bow.

[Agasha Inoshishi]

Her energetic flow and refusal to take a breath gets a chuckle from him. "You... have a whole lot of energy don't you? I will be glad to answer the questions you have that I can. But it is easier if they come in groups of less than 5," he jokes. "But let's see how much of that I caught? I found it when I was looking for places to drink. This is one of two places that does so. The rooms can be rented by speaking with the proprietor. They also offer musical and conversational entertainment and distraction, but I tend to bring my own when desired. Let's see... um... I'm not sure what exact activities you are imagining that are recreational and strenuous, but I am certain that I would love to hear about them. And, it is a pleasure to actually get the chance to sit down and get to know you personally Agasha-san," he says, finally offering a bow.

She smirks, responding in order while mind pings around the room.

"I find questions are like people: distinct and impatient. And if ever there was a place for more than 5 of them to come at once..." She lifts an eyebrow, her eyes still radiating innocence despite the dirty, dirty comment.

She settles herself down for late night sake and stories.

"This is certainly a more private place to drink than earlier tonight. I'm afraid some samurai will be most sore tomorrow. If I weren't meeting here with you, I'd be tempted to do the traditional Dragon welcoming of the sun, cymbals and all! And you will find I'm quite energetic, more like the Hare than the Dragon in more ways than one."

She sips her sake, content to let her On slip further than usual as it's late and she's definitely had a few.

"And I you, Kitsu-san, and I you. You certainly know how to tempt a girl...with your stories, I mean."

[Kitsu Murato]

Reaching to the side, he grams his shamisen.

She is... definitely going to be a handful. I was not expecting this... was she at the drinking game? he feels a slight pang of worry, but does not let it stop him from being friendly. Well, just don't let her make a decision that she may regret.

"You are certainly not a shy one are you?" he asks, directly addressing it with a smile.

He then leans in and looks here directly in the eyes with his orange orbs. "Did you know... had you heard... that I can see ghosts and spirits of all types with my eyes? But my eyes also change colors when I feel very strong emotions. And you're going to have to get them to change color if you want the chance to show me how energetic of a Hare you can be," he says, with a flirtatious challenge that he is relatively positive that she is not up to completing on a first date while intoxicated.

Then while still leaning in a bit, he strums a chord on his instrument. "First story... ready?" He smiles, awaiting her response.

[Agasha Inoshishi]

"You are certainly not a shy one are you?" he asks, directly addressing it with a smile.

He then leans in and looks here directly in the eyes with his orange orbs. "Did you know... had you heard... that I can see ghosts and spirits of all types with my eyes? But my eyes also change colors when I feel very strong emotions. And you're going to have to get them to change color if you want the chance to show me how energetic of a Hare you can be," he says, with a flirtatious challenge that he is relatively positive that she is not up to completing on a first date while intoxicated.

Then while still leaning in a bit, he strums a chord on his instrument. "First story... ready?" He smiles, awaiting her response.

She shrugs, artlessly letting her kimono slide slightly off her shoulder. "Shy is for the sun, for times when others see. Demure is for tea time and lunch time. The appearance of the thing is not the thing itself."

As Murato leans in, Inoshishi cocks her head, smiling. "I had not, no. What color must I get them to, were I to show you what a Hare I can be?" Her tone is innocent, yet no less flirtatious. As Murato continues to move on to the story, she stills herself slightly, smiling in a much broader fashion.

"Why yes, Kitsu-san, I am indeed ready for the first story. I always like a man that gets right down to business."

[Kitsu Murato]

The slipped shoulder is noticed, and internally appreciated. But also resulted in internal reprimand for thinking things that he shouldn't. He truly hadn't expected this and just had to make the best of an attractive and tempting situation.

Just before starting the story, he makes a single comment. "What color would passion be?"

Then he strums again.

"Oiwa was a stunningly beautiful young woman who was married to the samurai Iemon, a petty man who only loved her for her head-turning looks. Another woman, Oume, was madly in love with Iemon and out of jealous rage, she tricked Oiwa into using a cream that was laced with poison. It disfigured Oiwa’s face, causing one of her eyes to droop and her hair to fall out, without her even noticing.

With the telling of the disfiguration, the shamisen sounds become discordant.

"Disgusted with her new appearance, Iemon wished to divorce Oiwa and marry Oume. The despicable samurai hired his friend Takuetsu to rape Oiwa, so that he would have the grounds for divorce. Takuetsu was so shocked by Oiwa’s appearance, he couldn’t follow through with the orders. Instead, he told Oiwa of Iemon’s plan, and showed Oiwa her own face in a mirror. Seeing her deformed face for the first time, Oiwa was so horrified that she stole Takuetsu’s sword, killing herself. With her last breath, she cursed Iemon’s name.

When she is approaching the end of her life, he grows the sound of the discordant music.

"On the night of Iemon’s remarriage to Oume, the ghost of the disfigured Oiwa appeared before him. A terrified and guilty Iemon quickly fled from Oiwa, but no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t escape her hauntings. After that night, no matter where Iemon looked—even in the very lanterns he used to light his path—he would see Oiwa’s face staring back at him."

Finally he fades down to a steady strumming of a simple chord.

"That is the popular telling of stories I've seen twice. A vengeful spirit haunting someone that hurt them in life. The reality can be much more violent and disturbing. Like Matsu Kaiboh, who went mad with grief when a man killed his son in a duel. He challenged the man that killed his son but his rage was so complete in death that he returned not long after and hunted down his and his son's killer. The body was nearly unrecognizable an it took us weeks to hunt him down. Truth can be much worse than fiction."

He sets his shamisen aside after finishing to grab a drink of sake himself.

[Agasha Inoshishi]

Just before starting the story, he makes a single comment. "What color would passion be?"

Ooo, easy, Green!Nope, red, like your cheeks whenever youShut. Up. Seriously. You guys, new story!

Out loud, she says, "I think all could be. Show me which one it is today."

Then he strums again.

"Oiwa was a stunningly beautiful young woman who was married to the samurai Iemon, a petty man who only loved her for her head-turning looks. Another woman, Oume, was madly in love with Iemon and out of jealous rage, she tricked Oiwa into using a cream that was laced with poison. It disfigured Oiwa’s face, causing one of her eyes to droop and her hair to fall out, without her even noticing.

I love stories with people named things.You love any story. You're a storywh-- Oh My Kami, why do you never just shut up and sit? Eww, that cream sounds gross.

With the telling of the disfiguration, the shamisen sounds become discordant.

"Disgusted with her new appearance, Iemon wished to divorce Oiwa and marry Oume. The despicable samurai hired his friend Takuetsu to rape Oiwa, so that he would have the grounds for divorce. Takuetsu was so shocked by Oiwa’s appearance, he couldn’t follow through with the orders. Instead, he told Oiwa of Iemon’s plan, and showed Oiwa her own face in a mirror. Seeing her deformed face for the first time, Oiwa was so horrified that she stole Takuetsu’s sword, killing herself. With her last breath, she cursed Iemon’s name.

When she is approaching the end of her life, he grows the sound of the discordant music.

For once, the twist and turn of a tale has quieted Inoshishi's inner monologue. Conversation? Trilogue? Let's just stick with monologue. She's horrified at the thought of a samurai that would do such things. Of course she'd heard of such before, but the feeling of being creeped out was a rare one, and one she relished for it's novelty. She leans forward, savoring the sensation and the story.

"On the night of Iemon’s remarriage to Oume, the ghost of the disfigured Oiwa appeared before him. A terrified and guilty Iemon quickly fled from Oiwa, but no matter how far he ran, he couldn’t escape her hauntings. After that night, no matter where Iemon looked—even in the very lanterns he used to light his path—he would see Oiwa’s face staring back at him."

Finally he fades down to a steady strumming of a simple chord.

"That is the popular telling of stories I've seen twice. A vengeful spirit haunting someone that hurt them in life. The reality can be much more violent and disturbing. Like Matsu Kaiboh, who went mad with grief when a man killed his son in a duel. He challenged the man that killed his son but his rage was so complete in death that he returned not long after and hunted down his and his son's killer. The body was nearly unrecognizable an it took us weeks to hunt him down. Truth can be much worse than fiction."

He sets his shamisen aside after finishing to grab a drink of sake himself.

Between the story, the shamisen, and the abrupt switch from past story to present gruesome spirit murder, Inoshishi is startled and unsettled. After a moment, she shivers dramatically, her kimono sliding back up her shoulders and hugs herself tightly. She watches the Lion drink with undisguised satisfaction.

"You, Kitsu-san, have a rare talent. The twist is very difficult to pull off. Many have studied it for whole lifetimes and can't pull it off as well as you have. Each twist is so perfect, it grabs your mind, then slams your stomach while you're otherwise engaged, before disappearing into the shadows of your story. Oh, well done indeed!"

Noticeably absent is any of the mild intoxication she displayed earlier. She's so absorbed in the story that either it isn't impeding her, or it wasn't there to begin with.

With her eyes wide and innocent, she straightens and stares into the Kitsu's eyes, before smirking slightly.

"Please sir, may I have another?"

[Kitsu Murato]

"I have plenty more," he says with a nod. "I am glad to keep giving you as much as you want while we have the room."

"How about this..." he says, lifting his sleeve and showing a scar on his right bicep that looks like something went in one side and out the other. "A possessed doll wielding a knife. Not anecdotal at all."

He lowers the sleeve once more and begins strumming at the shamisen to build that eerie ambiance.


The tune that he played was lilting and sad as he started the story.

"Makiko, he daughter of a farmer in the heart of Lion lands passed away from illness when she was only 4 years old. In their home, they kept a shrine to honor her and bring peace to her spirit. Within that shrine they kept a doll in the likeness of young Makiko, that they cared for. It was peaceful for a few years, but when they finally felt they had mourned and their daughter had moved on in peace they took down the shrine. The next day, the doll had returned to the same spot. They initially thought one of their other children must have moved the doll there because they were still grieving.

He then picked up the pace of the music, giving a sense of urgency.

"It wasn't until a few days later that they began realizing the doll's hair had been growing over the few days. And that it had grown actual fingernails as well. This revelation led to them contacting the nearest monk they could find. The monk went to look at Makiko's doll and immediately fell ill. In an effort to exorcise the spirit, the monk performed purification rituals and went through all of the proper processes for cleansing the home. But the doll continued moving back to the spot.

Murato's shamisen returned to a discordant and tense rhythm.

"Soon, while observing the Makiko doll, the monk started seeing it move. He still felt he had control of the situation. So he performed more rites to rituals to send the spirit to rest. Unfortunately he had grown too used to it, so he didn't feel threatened by it. Around a week into trying to help the family he was found dead by the father, a knife wound in his chest and a knife he had never seen made of inky blackness, held by the Makiko doll.

The mention of the death of the monk is met by a power chord, representing that extreme danger

"It was after this that a priest and myself were called in to help clear it for the family. I immediately saw the danger when I entered the room, as a tormented spindly looking spirit that might have once been a young girl hovered near the doll. I stepped forward and the knife that was in the doll's hand flung itself across the room. I put my hands up to defend and caught the knife with my arm. For almost 24 hours I helped with new rites and rituals to ward off the ghost, despite having a knife in my arm. Upon completing the rituals, the creature was banished from it's place in the family home. Even getting rid of the spirit did not change the doll back to normal. The doll still remains there growing hair and fingernails, returning every time it is moved... though it no longer throws knives."

Slowly the music calms back down to something more sinister but not dangerous.

"Makiko's spirit, I believe, was never in the doll. I think it was an opportunist spirit that wished to harm the family. Nobody has been able to determine why the doll continues to do the things it does."

He finishes of the second story with a small flourish on the shamisen.

[Agasha Inoshishi]

"I have plenty more," he says with a nod. "I am glad to keep giving you as much as you want while we have the room."

"How about this..." he says, lifting his sleeve and showing a scar on his right bicep that looks like something went in one side and out the other. "A possessed doll wielding a knife. Not anecdotal at all."

Inoshishi claps at that idea, then pauses as the second sentence truly sinks home.

"Makiko, he daughter of a farmer in the heart of Lion lands passed away from illness when she was only 4 years old. In their home, they kept a shrine to honor her and bring peace to her spirit. Within that shrine they kept a doll in the likeness of young Makiko, that they cared for. It was peaceful for a few years, but when they finally felt they had mourned and their daughter had moved on in peace they took down the shrine. The next day, the doll had returned to the same spot. They initially thought one of their other children must have moved the doll there because they were still grieving.

You know, mom and dad-Yeah, they had one of thoseShrine things. I know. That just makes it creepier!Maybe we shouldn't have drunk so much sakeSo much? You had like two sips the entire time, boringYes well. Right now, it still feels like a bit too much.

He then picked up the pace of the music, giving a sense of urgency.

"It wasn't until a few days later that they began realizing the doll's hair had been growing over the few days. And that it had grown actual fingernails as well. This revelation led to them contacting the nearest monk they could find. The monk went to look at Makiko's doll and immediately fell ill. In an effort to exorcise the spirit, the monk performed purification rituals and went through all of the proper processes for cleansing the home. But the doll continued moving back to the spot.

Shoulda gotten a TogashiOr a KuniOr a I WANT TO LISTEN

Murato's shamisen returned to a discordant and tense rhythm.

"Soon, while observing the Makiko doll, the monk started seeing it move. He still felt he had control of the situation. So he performed more rites to rituals to send the spirit to rest. Unfortunately he had grown too used to it, so he didn't feel threatened by it. Around a week into trying to help the family he was found dead by the father, a knife wound in his chest and a knife he had never seen made of inky blackness, held by the Makiko doll.

The mention of the death of the monk is met by a power chord, representing that extreme danger

"It was after this that a priest and myself were called in to help clear it for the family. I immediately saw the danger when I entered the room, as a tormented spindly looking spirit that might have once been a young girl hovered near the doll. I stepped forward and the knife that was in the doll's hand flung itself across the room. I put my hands up to defend and caught the knife with my arm. For almost 24 hours I helped with new rites and rituals to ward off the ghost, despite having a knife in my arm. Upon completing the rituals, the creature was banished from it's place in the family home. Even getting rid of the spirit did not change the doll back to normal. The doll still remains there growing hair and fingernails, returning every time it is moved... though it no longer throws knives."

Slowly the music calms back down to something more sinister but not dangerous.

"Makiko's spirit, I believe, was never in the doll. I think it was an opportunist spirit that wished to harm the family. Nobody has been able to determine why the doll continues to do the things it does."

He finishes of the second story with a small flourish on the shamisen.

Inoshishi's eyes are round at the reminder that this was, indeed, a real experience.

"You know, my parents had a shrine like that. They never told me who it was for and now I'm just glad they didn't have a doll. Dolls are kinda creepy, don't you think? A Mirumoto girl tried to give me one once and I was like 'um, no thanks, I have a pestle' and she didn't think that was very interesting. But I thought the doll was more creepy. Where do you think it came from? Did you know when it was in your arm? The knife I mean, not the doll. But also the doll. Or the spirit in the doll? You tell really good stories! I think more people should here them."

Her mouth makes a little o, then she smiles broadly.

"What if we organize something like that whole diviner thing? A night of scary stories! I saw this creepy looking building near the gatehouse, I bet it's not used for anything at all. We should TOTALLY do that."

She squirms, clearly uncomfortable about something, but not wanting to really do anything about it right this moment. The stories and ideas are just too intriguing, but she is starting to look tired. Afterall, she had an early morning today.