Intensely wants to rp with your character but doesn’t know how to approach.
Breathes on your shoulder.
White Blindness Rules Us All
Independent Makishima Shogo RP
"We go about our lives like we have wool pulled over our eyes. To lie and deceive; this is the society that we have become."
Tracking: purewhite-oblivion
Tracking: purewhite-oblivion
03. Icarus Walks. || @purewhite-oblivion
“Mm…” Mika glanced out the window toward the darkening skies. It was going to rain soon. “Have yet to be alive..” she echoed, the puzzle pieces of his words floating about in her mind. “Would you say we students are not living, perhaps?” She took a seat at the desk situated near the very front of the classroom, right in front of Makishima’s desk.
“Students? Hardly. Young, promising, you have yet to find your place in society. They step into a black and white world, and they struggle to come to terms with the grey. They shall find their place, I should hope. It only depends on whether they decide to notice the shadow, avoid the shadow or embrace the shadow.” He’d injected a measure of careful humor into his voice. At the end of his sentence, his mouth stretched into a slow, amused smile. Verbal jousting was in all ways like a game of chess. Infinite moves, infinite choices and infinite ways to be devoured.
Mika’s lips almost curved into a smile at that. “Oh, but most of these students would rather gossip and ruin the lives of others around them. As if somehow, being born with a silver spoon grants you an automatic ticket to freedom of expression, to verbally abuse those around you without a second thought. A Chinese proverb says that every human has two tigers within them - one that holds anger, jealousy, and pride, and the other that holds happiness, peace, and humility. The one that wins is the one you decide to feed.” She paused for only a brief moment before continuing:
“However, I do believe there is darkness in light too. Too much kindness makes a person blind, whereas too much greed makes a person selfish. There are two sides to the coin. Always.”
“Two tigers within would encourage internal violence, my dear. At one point, us petty humans would always find jealousy, pride and anger warring with happiness, peace and humility. We are born greedy and we die greedy, and this is the way we live.” He pauses to turn her second statement over in his mind, liking the sound of ‘two sides to a coin’.
“That you are correct, there are always two sides to everything. How you live your life depends on which side you want to see. And when you toss the coin and it lands the other side up, what will be of your life then? Decided at the whim of fickle Fortune?”
He sighs. “And such exists the concept of immortality. Can we truly leave something behind? Something for others to remember us by? Something that leaves a smudge on the scrape of the history of humankind, nothing more than an ugly blur on the landscape that is the universe? Surely, with our narrowminded ways, such an achievement is unable to be accomplished. Your thoughts?”
He rises from his seat and ambles over his side desk to make two cups of tea. Finding a packet of cream biscuits, he loads them onto a plate and brings them over. “One should not think on an empty stomach, after all.”
Okay so I’ve been dragged out of my hiatus by my dear friend so yes I’m back I’M ALIVE but I don’t know what’s going on help
02. Icarus Walks. || @purewhite-oblivion
“How do you feel about Othello, then? Is that tragic enough for you? I mean, the poor fellow did have to go through .. hell.” Mika uttered that last word with a bit of hesitation, her lips curling into a displeased look. “On the other hand,” she paused, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, “… maybe he didn’t try hard enough.”
The room was eerily silent, with only the two of them left inside. All the other students had left ages ago.
She wasn’t going to be that rat huddled in a corner. She’d fight with everything she had.Makishima rested the rim of his current novel against the lip of his mouth. “Alas, poor Othello. I knew him, Mika, a man of most infinite jest, of most excellent fancy…but perhaps I shall not continue. I feel no sympathy for those who suffer, only those who have lived but have yet to be alive.”
“Mm…” Mika glanced out the window toward the darkening skies. It was going to rain soon. “Have yet to be alive..” she echoed, the puzzle pieces of his words floating about in her mind. “Would you say we students are not living, perhaps?” She took a seat at the desk situated near the very front of the classroom, right in front of Makishima’s desk.
“Students? Hardly. Young, promising, you have yet to find your place in society. They step into a black and white world, and they struggle to come to terms with the grey. They shall find their place, I should hope. It only depends on whether they decide to notice the shadow, avoid the shadow or embrace the shadow.” He’d injected a measure of careful humor into his voice. At the end of his sentence, his mouth stretched into a slow, amused smile. Verbal jousting was in all ways like a game of chess. Infinite moves, infinite choices and infinite ways to be devoured.
01. Icarus Walks. || @purewhite-oblivion
“Ah, Romeo and Juliet? A classic tragedy, although a little less…anarchic than I had hoped.”
If it weren’t for the heavy literary value of a romantic tragedy, Makishima would’ve boldly wished for something a lot messier. Tales of fear palpable with every line, last breaths drawn in the absence of dignity. He would’ve wanted the two families to tear each other apart. It would’ve cleared some space for new order to come into town. And besides, bloody massacres and animalistic, feudal fights were always…entertaining.
“How do you feel about Othello, then? Is that tragic enough for you? I mean, the poor fellow did have to go through .. hell.” Mika uttered that last word with a bit of hesitation, her lips curling into a displeased look. “On the other hand,” she paused, pushing a stray lock of hair out of her eyes, “… maybe he didn’t try hard enough.”
The room was eerily silent, with only the two of them left inside. All the other students had left ages ago.
She wasn’t going to be that rat huddled in a corner. She’d fight with everything she had.
Makishima rested the rim of his current novel against the lip of his mouth. “Alas, poor Othello. I knew him, Mika, a man of most infinite jest, of most excellent fancy…but perhaps I shall not continue. I feel no sympathy for those who suffer, only those who have lived but have yet to be alive.”
00. Icarus Walks. || @purewhite-oblivion
“My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy… .
That was Act I, Scene V of Romeo and Juliet, Shibata-sensei.” Mika announced, having just recited the poem without skipping a beat. Her Art professor had requested a quote from a recent literature work as a means of accepting an apology for her mistake in taking him for a certain pen-twirling beauty-marked man.
You always turn everything into an assignment, she thought, amused. I don’t see why everyone else has such a hard time.
“Ah, Romeo and Juliet? A classic tragedy, although a little less…anarchic than I had hoped.”
If it weren’t for the heavy literary value of a romantic tragedy, Makishima would’ve boldly wished for something a lot messier. Tales of fear palpable with every line, last breaths drawn in the absence of dignity. He would’ve wanted the two families to tear each other apart. It would’ve cleared some space for new order to come into town. And besides, bloody massacres and animalistic, feudal fights were always…entertaining.
Shogo’s heart pounded in excitement. How long has it been since he’s found a remotely pleasing toy to play with? His mouth curled into a thin smile as his wrist was caught in the servant’s grasp and he found himself unable to tug it free.
“Spilling your blood would be quite worth the pain.” He replied in accordance with the man’s words. Oh, how he yearned to hear the pained cries of a stabbed man…but his excitement at finding a worthy toy overrules even that.
“A man is tested when he feels fear,” he said, locking his amber gaze with the servant’s peculiar glowing orbs. “Tell me now, did you feel an inkling of that emotion when I came at you?”
“If I coiled back in fear, I would be a man in pain.” Gu-Sung replies rather plainly, his grip so ever strong upon the other man’s pale wrist. It proved useless to wrestle the blade out of his grasp—indeed, this Makishima is no push over. “For I have been tested to the last thread of my life, already.” He shoves the young master away, preparing himself for another strike from his attacker.
Makishima paused, flicking the razor closed and inspecting his wrist with a smirk of amusement. He didn’t doubt the words of the man before him, no, but it was rather interesting to see that he had found someone who would actually fight back.
Deciding that he would continue the game, he lazily curved the razor open once more, running his fingers against the delicate blade. “Tested to the last thread of your life, you say? How interesting. Did it leave you with anything? A mark?"
He lunged forward again, intent on seeing bright red coloring pale flesh. The fact that the man before him seemed strangely unbreakable and weighed with mysterious experience filled with him with a mixture of excitement and frustration. Here was a toy he wanted to push to breaking point, just to see if he could.
On some days, he prefers a strong tea to get him through the day. He enjoys the quiet morning by himself, leaning back into the sofa, flicking leisurely through his novel, sipping on the bittersweet liquid and feeling the warmth reach his heart.
On other days, he prefers coffee, taken with cream and sugar and mixed to a beautiful light brown. He balances the coffee carefully with one hand, while Choe follows close behind with a platter of plain biscuits. He drinks the coffee in gulps, a line of scalding fluid burning a path down his throat.
But rarely, oh so rarely does he crave something else. Something thicker, richer, darker, a drink that reminds him of the delicate stretch between the vitality of living and the stench of death. As he knelt there, his arms spread, his face towards the sun, the warm trickle reaches his lips. He laughs. He could taste it all now; the pain, the happiness, the loneliness, the desperation, the satisfaction. The end.
Quite in agreement with Makishima’s fickle tastes, Gu-Sung proved to be a formidable opponent. Several years living as a special military operative for what had been left of his previous nation was ill matched to a young man hastily brandishing a sharp object. Yes, he was quite different than the other servants who had no such secrets to keep hushed away while serving the Makishima estate.
He controlled the weapon by use of the towel he previously had draped over his shoulders. In one fluid motion, he threw the towel over the weapon—grabbing the wiry wrist of the hand which held the toy, and firmly held on. Not yet able to wrestle the blade out of Shogo’s hand, he could at least prevent the younger man from withdrawing.
Gu-Sung feigned an astonished gasp as he leaned forward to meet the younger man eye to eye. “My, my, that’s an interesting weapon you have. But why do you intend to stab a man with it? Your hand will skip onto the blade and cut your flesh to ribbons by the time you’ve accomplished anything gainful.”
Shogo’s heart pounded in excitement. How long has it been since he’s found a remotely pleasing toy to play with? His mouth curled into a thin smile as his wrist was caught in the servant’s grasp and he found himself unable to tug it free.
“Spilling your blood would be quite worth the pain.” He replied in accordance with the man’s words. Oh, how he yearned to hear the pained cries of a stabbed man…but his excitement at finding a worthy toy overrules even that.
“A man is tested when he feels fear,” he said, locking his amber gaze with the servant's peculiar glowing orbs. “Tell me now, did you feel an inkling of that emotion when I came at you?"
“Oh, a shame for you to have missed out.” Gu-Sung comments as he trains the sight of his implanted eyes upon the younger Makishima once again. He can tell the youngster is posed with something within his own grasp—the rigidity of his stance told all he needed to know. He feigned ignorance while dressing himself in loose-fitted slacks—suitable enough to sleep in, using that towel to dry off his own hair.
He turns to face the youngest Makishima, strolling toward him at a casual pace. “Whatever brings you to these dreary servant quarters? Are you bored?”
Shogo’s eyes narrow at the glowing implants into the servant’s orbs. What did the man see that he couldn’t? His curiosity aroused, he pulled his razor out and advanced steadily towards the man.
“As a matter of fact, I am quite bored.” Shogo drawled lazily, smirking as the side of his razor caught a glint of light. “Perhaps you should get acquainted. With my razor."
He lunged forward, intent on driving the weapon into Choe’s side. If the man dodged, he would make interesting prey. If the man didn’t dodge, then Shogo would be very disappointed indeed.