Location: Kumoito, also known as The Cloud, formerly known as Kumogakure. Some street somewhere just outside a shopping district. tab Open for Business: Sunrise Apparel A tailoring business formerly owned and operated by the Cloud's arguably most eccentric seamster Amano Iemitsu, an avid fashion enthusiast (and Unki's youngest-older cousin) who enjoys creating and appreciating all things designed to accessorize the body. With Unki's help, Iemitsu could at long last sign over his business to his esteemed cousin. With Unki as the new owner, the worries about crunching numbers and bookkeeping behind him, Iemitsu has happily switched his focus almost exclusively on design, instruction, and creation. With Unki's assistance, the Empress's finance specialists can handle the bookkeeping (for a snippet of profit). Sunrise Apparel lives Iemitsu's mission to bring fine fashion to anyone and everyone without the appalling, hyped-up price tag. In Unki's stead, it's common for someone of her staff keep tabs on all the going-ons of Sunrise Apparel!
tab Notable NPCs TBA! tab Information • Baron / Celebrity | 55000 Your business is known throughout your lands and village. Its made you somewhat a celebrity is some regard. Attracting attention of investors and writers among...other things like fans, and competition stalkers, and assassins Owner: Unki Amano
- Collecting profit for the week of 5-5-20 and 4-28-19
Posted: Mon May 11, 2020 1:51 am
Title: Bull In A China Shop Rank: B Reputation: Negative, Infamy Impact: Local Find A Local Business. Ruin it, even if unintentionally to the best{worst} of your ability. Enough to at least invoke the authorities. Cause those transgressions. Obtain Infamy as the ultimate "Karen"
Hey hey, perhaps things were runnin a little too chill in the once Kumogakure, for ya see what with Kumogakure having been in the mountains it was no surprise that when descending from the mountains of isolation that was the pitch tribe homeland that Skarpm would find himself here. Many onlookers gasped at his overwhelming size but what drew the most attention was the fact he was dragging poor schmuck by his collar who was pointing in a direction. Until that pointing started to quiver when the location in question was inevitably reached. With a crick of his neck did he look down on the puny humie and asked with a raised eyebrow. "So tHis iS tHe plaCe Ya'll huMies get YALL WICKED SICK duDs." The man nodded his head still shaking with a bit of snot trailing. "HeLLa nIcE oF YA GUidin A BrotHa, BUd." Like a used toy you didn't want to play with no more did Skarpm plop that fella he was holdin down and boy howdy did he run.
He'd pause looking at the door. "HuMiE, DoOrs aIn'T aCcomodaTin. S-mAn GunnA haFta staRT ELuCiDatIn" The door to Kumoito would be swung open. A loud bang as the handles slammed into the wall from sheer OOMPHA. Should the shop owner give their welcomes they'd just see a massive Torso and legs in the doorway not even arms. A hand would creep in under the top of the doorway a slight crunch coming from the grip of the monster outside as they ducked beneath the doorway. Colorful horns catching the top of the doorway implicating some mild 'stuckness'. "MothaFUGgIn" One forceful smash of the skull and now there was no 'top of the doorway' to hinder progress.
Sauntering in rubble and possible drywall flecking off from his matted unwashed hair did the Oni give the shop keep a smile, welcoming...that's what it seemed the attempted smile was intending...but considering the absolutely massive eleven foot seven hulking mass of meat before him it could just as easily be interpreted as 'ima eatchu little man after I grind yer bones to make my bread'. He reeked of sweat, dead skin, cheap booze, and dirt. A smell like that of an alley dweller. What appeared to be a suit tarnished to hell an back with several abrasions is what he wore. His 'signature' apparel as seen through the glass of the fourth wall involving a bowtie and a mostly pieced together suit had yet to come to fruition. "HoWz It hAnGin HuMie. AnotHa oNe a YaLl FrIendOs SpiTtn tHat YoUz ThE mAn Ta BE A heLpIn Me. BeEn OuT n bouT, CouPle A WeeKs. SO YoU BOuTa hElP a MotHaFuggA Look FleEk?"
A young employee who was once minding their task was left stunned. Their jaw dropping with the destruction of the front door and delayed the imminent cower behind the desk. "I-II-Eh-mi" the young employee stammered. They were totally far from knowing what to do aside from cry out for the eccentric steamster and retreat under . "M-Miiiiitssuuuuu!" The taller Oni was smashing his skull in the, now missing, doorway by this point. Cry or no cry, Iemitsu was absolutely bolting to the sales floor to see what all the noise was about. His greeter, once tidying the desk was in tears on the floor, trying to force herself into a small shelf space. A hysterical cry, "I DON' KNOW WHUAAT THHEEY WUHAANT!!" Over the traumatized employee's whimpers, Iemitsu was trying to hold his composure together and not see the damage to the door and walls as a costly number. There surely had to be an explanation. The shorter of the two oni spoke. Frankly, this guest sounded and even smelled like a hardcore, guy's night out in the town of bar hopping. Iemitsu was very much present for Skarpm's noisy spiel. The steamster's eyelid twitched as he held back every jitter. Every desire to shiver with the creeps. Like some incarnate composed of his two, elder brothers' former, bad habits had manifested into a gruff character. Oh... It's like trying to talk to Uji on New Years Eve.
Although he was greeted with two, extraordinary guests there was still the chance this was a chance for good business. "Yes." The seamster nodded. He could feel the wobble of his topknot on his head along with his nod. A pin cushion chocked full of needles was tightly bound about his wrap of brown hair. Sewing needles count as emergency weapons, right? "I," he pauses briefly. An attempt of a breath to balance himself fills his nostrils with just the whiff of the Onis' scent. Their weird forest Oni funk. Iemitsu's eyelid was twitching "I am the MUTHERFUGA whose gonna' help you look freck. Fleck? FLEEK? Wow! Alright! Adrenaline rush! I- I'm not up to snuff with the hip, cool words these days! Nope! Haahaaaaahh! " He laughed blithely masking the pain seething in his chest. Don't offend guests! "I'm Amano Iemitsu! I'm the head seam-" He stopped to breathe just enough air to keep talking without trying not inhale too much of the Oni Funk as the new hole in the wall wafts the smell in. "Steamster. I will be-e THRILLED to hear about what you're looking for!" Iemitsu was stretching his vibrant disposition as well as he could over his biting need to argue about the damages. Now, his brow was twitching in leiu of an eyelid. Don't say anything about the DOOR! STUPID!THESE ARE CUSTOMERS . THESE ARE GUESTS. VERY TALL GUESTS. You, Mitsu, are going to run the best damn clothes shop this side of the CONTENIENT will EVER see. His internal pep talk bled through as an jubilant clap to drown out the bad thoughts. "W-what are we looking for, gentlemen? New clothes? A quick mending? Both? OR just browsing?”
The shop had designs on display in the window and lining the wall. Booklets at benches with patterns modeled. Complete outfits, even, for sale and ready for tailoring to specific needs. Bolts of material and samples too. Some bolts were sprinkled with drywall and fortunately the Steamster hadn’t noticed it yet. This was just the face of the interior at Sunrise Apparel. Iemitsu hadn't begun to wonder how he'd take the Oni duo browsing and crushing beams in the ceiling as they may carouse to another room and section of the shop
Other employees were poking their heads in through a doorway leading to the back workshop. The weaker hearted seamsters would retreat immediately at sight of the very tall Oni, that is, if the funk blowing in from these guys wasn't spooking them away. Others would stare at Iemitsu's back and ogling the damages.
☠ Nami ☠ ❝ The wave does not need to die to become water. For she is already water. ❞
Kumoito l Chunnin l Genjutsu l Bloodline l Shōton ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
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Sigh. She really wanted to go spend time by the lake but nope. Her family had other minds. 'You need to go out and learn how to social with people.' That's just it. Nami didn't want to social with people. Was sitting down by the lake for the whole day really too much to ask? Looked up and down at the shops, her pale hues looked rather bored. People started to run away from one direction as her right eyebrow rose in curosity. What they were running from? Then she heard it, a small crash. Huh. Well. What's wrong to checking it out? Made her way over, "Ugh." She covered her nose for a bit. What was that smell? It smelled worst than a rotten whale carcass or squid. Or any sea animal really. She hasn't even made to the source of the smell or sound yet.
Was this some genjutsu? She silently Kai'ed and nothing happen. Either it was a really powerful genjutsu or it's legit. It had to be real with the way other people are reacting. Guess she better go check it out. She was, after all, under training to become a royal guard of Kumoito. "Well. Guess I can come back with a story to my family." After all, if she did something, even small, they might be able to leave her alone for the rest of the day. The smell was stronger as she was getting close. Good gods. What in Suijin's name was that smell?! Once she got to the building with the now broken doorway, she blinked as she was standing behind a massive creature. All she caught was him asking the business to have him look fleek. Look good. Oh!
Good! He's wanting to get cleaned up. "And you need one." Nami spoke up as she does all she can not to touch him while trying to get into his range of view. Holy heck. "Okay, I have to ask," She begins as she manage to find a table and stood up, only giving her three extra feet in height. Well. Better than nothing. "How did your mother give birth? Doesn't a big baby hurt?" She started, "Wait, how tall are you parents? Are all your family this big?" She questioned as she looks towards the business owner. "I'll help!!" She said with a smile. She was going to help alright. She had an idea or two in mind. But right now, perhaps, let this big man pick something out. While they are working on it, she could help with cleaning him up. Clasping her hand together, she turned to look at him. "OH HOLY FISHES, ARE THOSE HORNS!?" She pointed to the sleek horns barely poking out.
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Suiton l Doton l 1220/1220 Chakra l 1030/1030 Stamina
Posted: Thu May 14, 2020 2:48 am
"GeNtLeMeN. nA. gEnTlEmAn. ThEyZ oNlY oNe Of ThE s-MaN. tAkE aNoThEr BrEaThEr, AnD oPeN, tHeN fOcUs, YeR tHiNkPaN." Skarpm popped his collar..or rather the flaps of cloth that were dangling on his current attire. It wasn't uncommon for folks to gaze upon his glory and be whipped by his 'musk' that they started seeing double. If that was the case, in which it seemed to be...ah wait. No. No he wasn't seeing double. Next to Skarpm which could definitely be assumed to be a man based on their physique was another Oni. Or rather...the astral projection of one. Make no mistake. Skarpm was near twelve feet tall but the 'thing' not only had the height on him but also the girth. Next to him, the oni would drag a thumb across her neck staring directly at Skarpm with red in her eyes. Yes her, this was a woman, it had the 'BOOBS' so that must be the case. It seemed apparent though Skarpm was none to pleased about this appearance, however, "Ah Na, b***h a** SiS bE pLaYiN tHaT vOoDoO s**t. ShE fUgGiN DoN't QuIt. ShE kEeP'n ThIs Up, b***h gUnNa GeT hIt." Skarpm would make a quick punch in the direction of his projecting sister which of course went right through her. As the image vanished the Oni's mood was soured. That of course translated towards customer service.
He'd then return his attention to Iemitsu. With a clearly disgruntled scowl on his face. "TCh, SiMpLe s**t HuMiE. gImMe ThE bEsT. mAkE a MoThAfUgA lOoK fLy So He CaN BaLl WiTh ThE rEsT." Skarpm dug into what could have been the armpit area of his outfit before slapping some rather faded and damaged magazines, {mildly moist}. Styles that were 'of their time' parachute pants, triangles, high top sneaks, zoot suits, comical shades, and unnecessary one hundred percent necessary bling. These magazines were in rough shape. Along with being incredibly dated. You see Skarpm's entire foundational belief on human culture and the outside world consisted of these magazines along with shitty mixtapes and cds found in the ruins of...why this very village. These were the pinnacles of 'success' during their time and it seemed apparent with his request he wanted to either emulate or literally become these GREATS. Even though now they were all for the most part, retired, washed up, or one hit wonders. Now whether Iemitsu had the nerve to actually tell this monster of a man his way of understanding was wrong, bless his soul because Skarpm was not a man who took kindly to being wrong.
It was right around this time the pale skin humie got all up in Skarpm's grill. This broad was all up sayin the stuff. "I nEeDa WuT? dIdN't FiNiSh YeR sEnTeNcE yA pAlE sKiN sLu..WhAt ThE mUtHaFuC?" Fun facts, it wouldn't be hard to pick up from the Oni's tone of voice. 'Humie' , 'Paleskin' these were derogatory terms or at least could be interpreted as such even if they weren't such in the current culture, the word he was about to say however would have been said in such a casual manner it would have been the same as saying oh I dunno, pickle. As his line changed due to the sheer number and amount of questions he was being asked outta the blue he shrugged and his sourness shifted. "AiGhT Lil HuMiE i'Ll GiVe YoU tHe DeEtS. rEsOnAtIn WiTh ThAt ViBe Of WaNtInG tO bE iN tHe KnOw. AfTeR aLl S-mAn Be RuNnIn ThEsE sTrEeTs. Q nUmBeR oNe ThRoUgH eR sNaTcH yO, q NuMbEr TwO, wHeN yOu GoTtA wEaK hUmIe TaInT nO dOuBt Fo ShO. q NuMbEr ThReE mOtHaFuGgIn BiGgEr ThAn Me, An Q nUmBeR fO sEe Q nUmBeR tHrEe. N yA dAmN rIgHt ThEsE aRe My PoPpIn FlY hOrNs,BuT tHeY aInT tHe OnLy ThIn O mInE tHaT'lL gEt A sNaTcH tOrN." He'd then crick his neck after implying he's gotta another 'horn' that could destroy a 'snatch' before lookin back at the business boy. "So we mothfuggin doing this s**t or na. Feel, sis be knowin where I is. Ain't got all the time in the world mothafugga. Gotta make that s**t snappy. Or S-man gunna be all 'KInds' of unhappy.
That's," he wasn't sure what he was being held up at first beyond being a faded clutter of paper. A magazine. Alright. A magazine that's seen some serious ware and probably more sweat than its pages would ever prefer. Undoubtly dated fashion Iemitsu hadn't seen in the trending issues as being the highlights of hip fashion. The glasses and needless baggage of gold colored accessories didn't look classy even on clean magazine paper. What the customer wants matters. Good business answers the customer's wants and needs. Good business creates good reviews! Good reviews makes more business! MORE BUSINESS CREATES GLORY AND FULFILLMENT! "That's totally do-able." Painful but do-able. Iemitsu was just a pee-wee compared to the ragged giant. Heck, the steamster was betting on being squashed too if he couldn't take this zealous order. "A new suit. Yes. I can totally see it!" He said with a sparkle beginning to glittering in his violet eyes. The suit was the easiest item to manage even though it will be considerably larger than 98.8% of other projects Sunrise takes on. "It'll be glorious." The suit will be glorious. Parachute pants, on the other hand, were just sad. But the seamster wasn't gonna' say a word against baggy pants! Nope! Not as long as his guest was ridiculously tall and sporting horns looking more sharp and menacing than any needle on the steamster's person. Fear and fulfillment were easily the best two factors driving this deal. His newest guest, playing twenty questions, just needs to avoid causing trouble. "I can make it happen. I will make it happen. Yuari, this is a guest. Please come out of the desk." The employee was unwilling but slowly climbed up the desk until she stood upright. She looked about ready to cry again then smile. "Yuari, please go get the tape measure. The metal one. 60 feet reach. The step ladder too.” The little cloister of employees packing the doorway that gave Yuari passage through their whispering crowd: they were mostly in awe about how tall this guy is and wherever he must have been to pick up a smell as strong as his and how he must have Buddah’s patience since he hasn’t squashed or impaled Nami yet! Iemitsu clapped as he addressed them: "Our guest is the cream of the crop here, people. I need everyone on board to give this man a new suit! He was the best- to look the best- and we are the team to get this done. Please set aside all orders!" A suit to suit a twelve foot tall visior was going need all hands on deck to reduce delay. "Masaji, I need your magic hands and your sketchbook. Walk with me." He then turned and bowed his head to Skarpm, "If you will, please follow Mr. Masaji into this next area. I need your measurements! I and my team will have you dressed like a paragon in no time." It was at this point Iemitsu slowly turned his head to stare at Nami. His eyebrow was still twitching. "I know you from somewhere. I've seen your face and I know I don't forget a TOP like that!" Iemitsu snapped his fingers and pointed at her chest. "Sweetheat neckline and the corset straps! I love it. Alright. If you want to help we've got a lot about to go down here. This deadline is HUGE! LITERALLY!" He turned to check on Masaji's escort of the terribly TALL Oni guest to the next room where an arrangement of tall mirrors wait against the wall. They might not completely reflect Skarpm's image being shy of a foot or two. All the while, the lady who once minded the desk had returned with the hefty tape measure and planted it in Iemitsu's open palm. In wait. He heard her coming. "Thanks Yuari. Put the closed sign up too." Yuari quickly went off leaving Iemitsu to return his attention to Nami. "I'll let you run bolts of fabric into the back. You can sweep. I will let you do anything," much emphasis on the ‘anything’, "except offend our guest! Please! I BEG YOU!" The sparkling glitter in his eyes were gone and replaced with a sincere, desperate look from one day of stress quickly piling itself. “Please. Please be good, Sweetheart-neckline girl! There’s room for so many bad reviews to go around if this goes wrong!” He was groveling. Really. The steamster was groveling, on his knees, with his hands trembling and fingers woven together. Too soon? Like a light, Iemitsu's attitude switches off the stress and the Seamster was back on his feet and scurried away. “ I have work to do!” Meanwhile, Misagi was filling in time with a brief explanation: “We’ll take your measurements here and take notes about what you like if Iemitsu’s vision doesn’t suit your.... suit.” Some employee from the back came in a file behind Iemitsu with rolling ladder. After Iemitsu took to the sturdy platform at the top his metal measuring tape was put into play to find the width of Skarpm’s shoulders and the lenght of his arms. He calls numbers to his assistants below. Iemitsu said between calling out another measurement. He eyed Skarpm’s horns and resisted the want to touch them. “I’m seeing purple. A purrrple suit! It’s a noble color and the color-coordinating people would agree it complements yellow! Coat tails. Coat tails too. Masaji, are you getting this?” His assistant below was busy scribbling in pencil and occasionally swapping for colored markers kept in a utility belt. Two assistants below were asking about material type and what could pair well against the elements before scrambling off to find the right bolt of materials.
“A big man needs to walk around in the best. Forget sunday. I don’t even know why you need a best for Sundays. It’s ridiculous. Look fabulous everyday.” The eccentric seamster was sinking into his passion as he gathered numbers Breathing shallow breaths as he was right up and personal with the STANK! “You know. I designed the Emperor’s finery? He was really MEH about epaulets on the shoulders but they just. scream. OFFICIAL. I put them on his outfit anyway because I’M THE DESIGNER. He drew the line at me putting awesome spikes on them. FEH. He has NO refined taste. I swear. Masaji, I want epaulets fit for a king!" Iemitsu, the winded steamster, occasionally paused between measurements. Mostly, he needed to change measuring tools from construction-style measuring tape to a more willowy, traditional tape for wrapping around the body. The gnawing need to try to keep tabs on whatever task Nami was paired up with the changes. "There. I think that about covers all the numbers we need for a good idea to make something match your height" The seamster was wrapped in the finest sense of pride for what was ahead of his team. He clopped down the ladder and waved for Masaji to pass him the sketchbook. Fashion designers typically seem to draw very willowy figures to really make the drawing all about the statement of an outfit. But Masaji was different. He didn't ignore the guest's magnanimous physique and really wanted to flatter their guests with accurate depictions of what the final product would look like. In this case, Masaji drew and colored, a beefy black and white Oni with curvy horns and a luxurious mane in a purple top, black lining at the collar and cuffs of sleeves and the two, gold epaulets that regally squared off this strong Oni's figure. Iemitsu squeed, almost snatched the sketchbook from his assistant's hands and hugged it. "EEEEEE! I just LOVE it! Look! Look! We'll start putting it together immediately if you love it too! Mister... Mister..." Iemitsu shoved the sketchbook and the drawing upward for their guest to check out. He trailed off as he awkwardly realized he'd forgotten to ask how he should address their guest.
NecroPlant
Jenni Deer
Posted: Sun May 17, 2020 5:44 pm
☠ Nami ☠ ❝ The wave does not need to die to become water. For she is already water. ❞
Kumoito l Chunnin l Genjutsu l Bloodline l Shōton ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
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Deets? S-man? Snatch? Humie? What in the world!? This was fascinating! In all the books she had been reading, she had never such talk! Nami really wanted to get to know him, but dang, he really stinks. REALLY stinks. Maybe a bath would help. Before she could ask what he meant by deets, s-man, snatch and humie, Iemitsu was right in front of her as he was addressing her. Mentioned that he had seen her someone, she nods softly and smiles as he complimented her fashion. "This silly ol' thing?" She replied, her right foot back up in a soft kick. She had seen women do this but she had no idea that this was called flirting. Well one of the many languages of the art of flirting. She followed them towards the mirrors before he stopped in front of her and mention that he'll let her run bolts of fabric into the back? Sweep? Anything? Alright! She will do her best. Then a blink of confusion.
One or two. Her eyebrow rose. "Offend?" She questioned, more to herself than to anyone. It was also low enough that they may not been able to hear it. She read it in the books but she never understood how offension works. Sweetheart-neckline girl? He was on his hands and knees as she was slightly confused. What was she supposed to say. "Um. Name's Nami and I'll do all I can...?" She slowly suggested, unsure of what was the right thing to say. Nami watched the whole scene happened in front of her as she turned and saw the crowd gathering. Ugh. With a roll of her eyes, she glanced back towards them and heard Iemitsu stumble with his name. "S-man. Right?" She questioned towards him with a kind smile, not knowing that it wasn't actually his name. "Mister S-man, if you don't mind, I love washing hair! While they are making the suit, I can wash you up if you wish! Brand new suit, why not with feel good clean with a new suit! Maybe I could ask around for someone to get you something to drink while you are soaking and getting massaged?" It's not that she's dumb no, it's more of living under a rock and being socially behind had made her not know she was sending all the wrong signals. Let's just hope she didn't accidently offend the giant.
Nah, let's not hope.
Let's pray.
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Suiton l Doton l 1220/1220 Chakra l 1030/1030 Stamina
Skarpm, he followed the group. Humies weren't so dumb after all it seemed. That, or what he actually wanted to believe was his 'normie' language that he was spittin was really resonatin. When he was first approached with the tape measure he bared his fangs. You see things like tape measures were reminiscent of things such as garrote wire or other such choking implements. So he carried a weighted skepticism that he was about to be as the pitch called it'gang banged' by the humies. Essentially when a collective of obviously weak cull bait surrounds a higher skin caste and overwhelm them with numbers. Still, when they backed off after getting what they wanted he huffed. Tape measures...and all this 'nonsense' associated with fashion and tailory. None of that s**t existed in the Pitch. They wore what they stole or cobbled together. Well that was only a partial truth. There were some blues that engaged in this but as stated before was used as a vantage to cull a clanny while his guard was down and he was not gunna be a horse paddy for a scumsucking blue b*****d. Ah, that, of course, referring to being literal feces. As it was customary to consume those who are culled so as to not be wasteful. Skarpm's descriptions left little to work with in the imaginative department but that at least left creative freedom. When inquired about design preference and all the finer details in a rather uneloquent fashion showing his lack of knowledge on any such subject with a veiled threat with garnered appreciation at the same time. "I dOn'T kNoW wHaT tHe MoThFuG yOu JuSt SaId HuMiE bUt It SoUnDs LiKe A lUcKy BrOtHa AiN't GuNnA bE gEtTiN cUlLeD tOdAy."
Right about now was the sketch thoroughly recognized. He pointed at it with a big stupid grin on his face. "HeLlZ yA. tHaT sHiTs FiRe. IrOnS aRe HoT liKa MoTHaFuHgIn PyRe. s-MaN bOuTa LoOk SmOkIn. BoUtA bE a ReAl Og No JoKiN." Nami would speak up, As intrusive measurements continued the giant squirmed like a big dog. In fact, it wasn't too far of a comparison to compare Skarpm to just that, a big dog. Matted hair and a smell relatable if not worse. Until the inevitable inquiry about being washed and massaged...to which he dismissed entirely. Again with that skeptic air. One thing about the Oni. Despite what seemed to be a lackadaisical sense of whimsy, he always seemed on guard and on edge even if just very slightly. "DoN't LeTtA aNoThA tOuCh A bRoThA. oNlY tImE s-MaN bE gEtTiN sNuGgLy Is WhEn S-mAnS aBoUt To StArT bUmPiN uGlIeS. aN iF yOu TaLkInG aBoUt AbUlAtIoN, aIn'T nO mOiSt TrAiN mAkInG iT tO tHiS sTaTiOn. PiTcH oNlY wEt WhEn ThEy LoSt A bEt. PiTcH oNlY dIp In ThE fLoOd AfTeR tHeY bEeN cOvErEd In BlOoD. lEsS yOu WaNnA mAkE a CoNtRiBuTiOn BeTtEr KeEp AwAy WiTh ThE cLoUd TeAr SoLuTiOn. PiTcH LiFe. "
Skarpm essentially in his special 'normie' tongue divulged that members of his tribe do not bathe unless forced to. In which case its deemed shameful. Or when they are covered in blood...which surprisingly happens often, but Skarpm's sudden 'slow roll on the murder' left his body particularly bloodyless. As for the 'massages' he made clear the 'touchies' is only for when yall ready to snogg. Hell, even then many pitches have fallen victim to the dreaded snog cull. Hence the only position for a pitch male to be in will always be THE TOP. A popular pitch saying "If they got em on the bottom, they're gunna cull em." Of course the depravity of the pitch clan is rather extensive and its certainly not a rarity to find S&M relationships stemming entirely on the other partner 'wanting to be culled'. Indeed, its certainly quite the strange clan indeed. {{Helpful Translations: Abulation: A a real professional word meaning to wash. The moist train refers to getting bathed. Cloud tears refers to water. The flood refers to bathing itself.}}
Aside from bathing it seemed he turned down the offer for a drink as well by stating well in his own special way that he had plenty of his own. "ThAt BeIn SpOkE. s-MaN aLrEaDy GoT tHe EgG fOr HiS yOlK. aIn'T bE nEeDiN nO dRaNk BuT iN eXcHaNgE fOr ThE oFfEr BrOtHeR wIlL sHaRe SoMe Of HiS bAnK. Go On N tAkE a SwIg Of ThE wIcKeD eLiXa. OnE sIp Is EnOuGh , An It MiGhT eVeN fIx Ya." Skarpm's eyes moved towards the flask which was dangling off his side whilst he was T-posing offering nami some of his 'DRANK' as he called it. Of course, it didn't take a genius to know. This was a terrible idea. An awful one. One that could only be made if one's common sense and social normativity were the absolute worst. Ah, yes the smelly giant man is offering you a drink of some nondescript nature. A smelly giant man whose culture you know nothing about. A smelly giant man whose culture yet to be revealed subsisted on alcohol and murdering each other using whatever means possible. Do you drink it?
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The Pitch Clans' way of brewing was old and founded in just what 'sake' is at its root. Rice wine. However, when the harlequin cult invaded this took a strange turn. The Oni fermentation process was manipulated in such a way that the alcohol they produced was more akin to champagne, but not simple champagne, champagne that was ungodly sweet comparable to soft drinks and sodas. The sweetness in combination with the alcohol itself made for an INCREDIBLY SHITTY drink. It was essentially a disgustingly sweet, carbonated, alcohol which tasted absolutely horrendous and would almost guarantee the average person would upheave it upon consumption and black out shortly after. Simply picture someone pouring heaps of sugar into a bottle of Everclear only the sugar failing to dilute the proof of the alcohol. Its almost a requirement in Pitch Tribe conversation to get the opposing party to drink your 'GOD AWFUL DRANK' and if its enough to knock they a** out it was permissible to cull them. It is often referred to as the 'WICKED ELIXIR'
And so after that offer he'd address the elephant in the room. That elephant being just who or rather what was the name of the man who sauntered in out of the blue into this clothing store demanding fly AF threads. "BuH wAzZaT yA wAnNa KnOw BoUt ThIs MoThAfUgGa N wHo Is He. OpEn YeR gOt DaNg PeEpErZ bRoThA, aLl EyEs On Me." Skarpm would unleash his [Overwhelming Prescence] it flooded the room it such a way terror would making one's legs unable to move but this terror could easily be replaced with awe. He took a commanding presence as though he were on a stage. It was time to drop some MAD BARS. "ThIs Is A sToRy, AlL bOuT hOw, My LiFe GoT mOtHaFuGgIn FlIpPeD tUrNeD uPsIdE dOwN. sO i'D lIkE tA tAkE a MiNuTe JuSt SiT rIgHt ThErE aN i'Ll TeLl Ya AlL bOuT tHe StOrY bOuT tHe gReY-sKiNnEd PiTcH wArDeNs FrEsH HeIr. In ThE mOtHaFuGgIn PiTcH cLaN bOrN aN rAiSeD. mUrDeRiN iN tHe GoRe PiT iS wHeRe I sPeNt MoSt Of My DaYs. WrInGiNg OuT, mAiMiNg, DiSmEmBeRiN aLl CoOl AnD aLl JuSt CuLlInG fOoLs. WhEn A cOuPlE oF bLuEs WhO wErE uP tO nO gOoD sTaRtEd CaUsIn TrOuBlE iN mY nEiGhBoRhOoD. gOt In OnE lItTlE rEbElLiOn AnD tHe DaRk OnE gOt ScArEd SaId YoU'rE aLl GeTtIn CuLlEd An FeD tO tHe BeAr. I sLaYeD aNd I cHeAtEd FoUnD oUt BoUt ThE wOrLd. GrEy DaD tRiEd Ta StOp ThE mOtHfUgGiN s BuT i JuSt TuRnEd Up ThE hEaT aN i KiLlEd It. HeArInG tHeIr DoPe a** rHyMeS aNd WaS lIkE tHiS s**t iS rAd, ThIs HoW tHe HuMiEs Be LiViNg LiKe, s**t ThE oUtSiDe MiGhT bE aLl RiGhT. i HeArD tHeY'rE wEaK, pAtHeTiC, aNd FeEbLe AlL tHaT i ThOuGhT wAs ThIs OuTsIdE tHe PiTcH wHeRe I wAnTeD tA bE aT? i WaS lIkE wHaTeVs I'lL sEe WhEn I'm ThErE, nOw SkArPm Be LiViN hIs LiFe ThE eX-gReY wArDeN HeIr.
Iemitsu and Masaji exchanged looks frequently teetering from uncertainty to bordering fear. They were civilians! Energized illusions with ninja magic were almost too over the top with theatrics. Overwhelmed with the sensation they couldn't move, oh, this only motivated the designer duo to move quicker! hat Skarpm wasn't meaning he had plans to burn the place down when he said the outfit was on fire. "DON'T give me that LOOK!" Iemitsu hid behind the sketchbook to hiss loudly toward Masaji's glare as if there was blame to be put on the seamster. "MR. SKARPM," the seamster put much emphasis on their guest's name to assure the giant he was listening, "has come ALL this way- from his homeland- after enduring trials and troubles to LOOK. FLY! MASAJI! SO HELP ME, MASAJI, LET'S HURRY and make this man F.L.Y." Iemitsu shouts and waves the sketchbook trying to play off the intensity of the disturbing details: murdering, gore pit, maiming, rebellion and having killed something. Or someone! These words didn't escape the designer duo and motivated them further to have this Oni leave satisfied above all else. The shock of their guest's surprise performance was wearing off, in other-words, they could actually find the ability to move their legs! Meanwhile, the assistant at the front desk could be heard applauding Skarpm's mad bars. Yuari wasn't in the immediate shock of the limelight, where the vibe was twisting from work to a show, and felt all the awe the oni's rhyme was surely meant to bring.
The glorious introduction of who exactly HE frightened the designers more than anything. They were determined to have this Oni would leave satisfied. Maybe he wouldn't come back before repairs were made? Masaji hurriedly starting shoving the eccentric seamster now clutching the sketchbook.
Iemitsu turns suddenly, walking backwards toward the backroom, and focuses on Nami. He began to nod slowly, pressing his palms together with a relieved look on his face. :"GOOD. YES." So far so good. Nami didn't COMPLETELY offend him. There was just the matter of the vile smelling drink that the designer duo couldn't leave quick enough to avoid. Fortunately, a gaping hole in the front door area was surely saving the senses from complete, stank misery. Before Masaji could completely pull Iemitsu away, the seamster mumbled to Yuari about "standing by" in reference to the possibility that Nami accepts the drink and all went sour for Miss Sweetheart Neckline. Then he calls out. A cheery song in his voice; We'll be back in a little BIT" before disappearing behind a door.
NecroPlant
Jenni Deer
Posted: Mon May 25, 2020 8:46 am
☠ Nami ☠ ❝ The wave does not need to die to become water. For she is already water. ❞
Kumoito l Chunnin l Genjutsu l Bloodline l Shōton ▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀▀
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Pale blues can only look a bit confused as she tried everything to listen to him. She could read all the books in the world and would not undersand what he just said. Snuggly? Hmm. The act of cuddling if she remembered right. She had heard people comment "Oh look at the puppies snuggling!" So he must be talking about cuddling? Odd. He didn't seem to be the cuddle type to be honest. Then again, bears are dangerous and kills people but people say they wish to cuddle a bear which does not make sense to Nami. At all. Bumping uglies? What? Going through her mind, she was trying to figure out what he meant by bumping uglies. "Bumping uglies?" She questioned, confused, "So you get two ugly people and bump them?" Moist train? What in the world? She had never heard of trains being moist. Nami felt the urge need to hang out with him more, maybe she could learn more about people and their ways especially since he seems so smart in the ways of socialization.
'Dip in the flood after they been covered with blood...' Nami rattled her brain over this as well. Her hand went up as she gently massaged her temples. Never had her brain work so hard. She was actually getting a headache. Either the smell of this man or the way he makes her brain run on overdrive, she wasn't sure. Yes, she was used to fouling smells, you could thank rotting sea carcasses but be around it long enough, the brain will start to hate you. Then he continued. Egg for his yolk? What? Now that was a saying she had never heard of. Her hand slides to her cheek as all she could do was to watch him. He brought forward a flask, which was rather dirty mind you. Nami blinked softly as she took the flask and take a sniff.
Just a sniff.
Before she knew it, she was lean over, her hand on her thigh and the other one still on the flask as she was coughing. "Damn, that's the strongest sweet smell I ever experienced." She never had something that smelled so sweet to kick in her gag reflex. Nami used coughing to hide the reflex. Before she could do anything, she suddenly felt terror and her legs were unable to move. Nami doesn't usually feel terror so this must be genjutsu. She silently kai out while Skrapm was busy... talking weird. Was he singing? Talking? What was he doing? Nami was doing everything she can to absorb the information from Skrapm, as much as she hated to admit it, it was... difficult. Pitch? Grey and Blues? Dismembering...
HOLD Up.
Dismembering? Oh, dear. Nami suddenly found herself in a situation. Maybe she should stay here and make sure he doesn't harm anyone after all. It was her job right? Both Iemitsu and Masaji had disappeared behind the door as Nami was left alone with Skrapm. "Well um." Nami paused for a moment, "You'll have to forgive me, I'm still trying to process everything you said." It was then she reminded herself she has his flask in her hand. "Oh." Well Nami doesn't want to be rude. But damn, the smell alone almost knocked her on the a**.
Right at that sweet blissed moment, there was shouting and panic outside. With a frown, "What now?" She questioned as she handed Skrapm his drink back gently as she could do. Walked to the door, she noticed sudden darkness. How odd. Skies were blood red as the sun was just... black. With a turn as her blue hair spilled down as she pointed her thumb towards the sun, "That wasn't you, was it?" She questioned towards Skrapm. "If yes, I would love it if you teach me."
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Suiton l Doton l 1220/1220 Chakra l 1030/1030 Stamina
Skarpm gave the duo a thumbs up whilst simultaneously sticking out his tongue and giving a wink. A sign of appreciation it seemed. For the most part everyone had stayed in the Oni's good graces. The curious being that he was, which would have typically been approached with officers and artificers in tow was actually vibin some pretty positive aura...of course that's when things started to get dark...Skarpm made his way outside the gaggle of those tasked with keeping an eye on both him and Nami likely followed. Nami would bring up whether or not this was his doing and while he'd like to get some mad street cred he had to be straight up "Na LiL mIsS tHaT mEsS aInT mE. a MoThAfUgGiN oMeN tHaT's WhAt ThIs FinNa Be." He stared at the moon or...wait..sun? s**t. Exclipses were typically associated with the 'howling night' for the Pitch Clan. A time where it was free game to cull any sum b***h that looked at you funny all while making mad wild exclamations to the heavens like "YOU STOLE MY SHEEP SKINNER YOU SCUM SUCKING SPONGECAKE!" or "YOU BROKE MY ARENA STICKBALL SWINGER TWO SWEEPS AGO YOU GIMP LIMPED PIECE OF SPHINCTER FOLLICLES" short end of the stick it made man pitch clan members hyper aggressive. Not instinctually, but I suppose in a more celebratory sense.
That's when the ground began to shake. Footsteps. Heavy. *THUMP*, *THUMP*, *THUMP*. People were running in the opposite direction in droves. Looming over the hilltop horizon a familiar body. A familiar LARGE body was approaching. The large figure approaching had a guardsman in one of her palms. Palms big enough to hold an entire human skull. Helmet still word and cracked, man unconcious, blood streaming down the forehead. On her back were two enormous hatchets large enough that they'd easily cover the thickness of a tree...or sever a puny humie head. Massive horns glistened in the reflection of the darkened suns gleam. Skarpm sighed audibly and shook his head then shrugged. Loudly in an almost feral roar did a husky and gravely voice very unladylike was a name practically screamed in a manner that shook the very trees and rattled the windows.. SKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKARPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPM!
Skarpm would look and Nami and the entourage. Then express in confidence. "SpEaK oF tHe ShE b***h AnD a BaD oMeN, aN tHeRe ShE bE sToMpIn N sHoWiN. yAlL tOoK tO lOnG tA gEt My FlY dUdS, nOw YaLl HuMiEs Be RuNnIn, bUt YaLl BeEn PrEtTy LiT aN aRe FiNnA mAkE mE lOoK sTuNnIn. So SkArP-g BoUtA dRoP a FaVoR aNd Be A fReSh N fIrE sAvIoR, dIg. So YaLl StAy BaCk ReLaX aNd LeT s-MaN sPiT tHe FaCt. EnD oF tHe DaY sKaRrA iS s-MaNs SiS tHaT wAnTs HiS hEaD. sO dOn'T dO nOtHiN sTuPiD oR iTs Ya ThAtS gUnNa Be DeAd." Skarpm essentially gave a warning, he was going to converse with his sister it seemed and under every circumstance they were not to do anything rash. In other words stay the feck back.
As the shebeast grew closer to the clothing store she recognized her brother. She'd immediately throw the solier in her hands which at this point flew threw the air like a rag doll landing nearby...if his condition was checked he'd be injured severely but luckily still alive. That introduction would be met with like a bull did the wild beast woman charge at her sibling. Skarpm put both hands forward and somewhat struggling grabbed his sister by her horns and dug his heels into the ground. An unfettered rage in her eyes. Suddenly anyone within earshot would hear an unknown tongue. "Sho sugsi si ta sug sisho, si sho shochar sug sug sigratka sho gratka sho suggratka ta sugsi.. " to which Skarpm would respond. "Sugdak sug, si sisuggratka dak, sug, tashotadakchar sisugsho, shosug sug dak sug lokshogratka. Sug sigratka si' sigratka sug loksi. Sug sigratka si' sigratka sug loksi sho sho ta gratka, tashotadaksug daksi gratkasuglok sug daksug gratka gratka gratkagratka si sug si gratka sugtachar sigratka. Gratka sho daksi sugchar sug sidak sigratkadak gratkata si sugsi daksigratkagratka sigratka gratkata tashota tashota daksug.
The back and forth seemed anything but pleasant and it definitely didn't seem to defuse the situation. More fun facts. 'Broodbait' is a derogatory term used for pitch clan females. Naturally women are perceived as inherently if not naturally weaker than men in their tribe for obvious reasons. Despite there being capable female warriors that could put even some male pitch warriors to shame 'Broodbait' essentially is a term meaning that a woman is only good for one thing and that's being in the kitchen and making babies. Still the comment was enough to rile the hulking female as she lifted her horns in release backing up and staring at her brother with disdain.
It was here that without any moments notice Skarpm's sister Skarra would inhale deeply and let loose a billowing funnel of flame...however, not at Skarpm but at the entourage. Surprisingly...before anyone else could make a move or even form a hand sign Skarpm had moved in with his large hulking frame and shielded everyone clearly at his own expense. when the smoke cleared he was looking a bit winded but assured he was fine. His sister would look disgruntled at her failure and was looking ready to prepare another attack. That's when he whispered to the entourage and nami. "LiStEn YaLl. ImA bOuTa Do A tHiN. aInT nO fLy RhYmEs HeRe. I'm MoThFuGgIn Fo SeRiOuS. nO mAtTeR wHaT hApPeNs To ThE s-MaN yOu StAy In YoUr CoRnEr." Its here that Skarpm would turn around revealing his severely burned back. Same s**t different day for a pitch clanner. Then he shouted something at his sister. "SHAKKATAR!"
His sister stopped her attack then grinned what could only be described as a grin most evil. She'd remove one of her hatchets and begin drawing a large circle in the dirt. Ah, yes. SHAKKATAR. For the humies this was something akin to a one on one combat challenge. No voodoo, no miracles, just fists and fury. The gore pit, the most infamous place for SHAKKATAR to be held. However, SHAKKATAR could take place anywhere. Even here. Outside the Sunrise Apparel. To exclaim SHAKKATAR would be to exclaim putting one's life on the line. The blackened sun in the square almost made the situation seem theatric. He'd give his 'bros' from the Sunrise Apparel one more thumbs up before he'd take a step in the circle....and immediately get ******** beaned across his skull and flop around in the circle before coming full stop like a dead fish. It looked like a blow like that could easily shatter a normal human skull based on the sound alone..and to be fair it was kind of a cheap shot...but that was the pitch clan cheap shots and sucker punches nothing was off the table in SHAKKATAR.
Wiping the blood from his lips he stood back up hardly shaken despite the blow. His blood incredibly pungent to those with sensitive smells, by the way, he'd stand and again speak his native tongue mockingly. <"Hey hey, Not bad broodbait buuuut.."> Skarpm would reach for his flask...but it wasn't there. That's right it was with...the following words were comprehensible if not something of a feeling everyone could mutually feel. "Fug" A literal tree of a leg would drive its knee into the S-mans stomach as he was bent over it like a twig. Before his lower leg was grabbed and he was slammed like that god of trickery in that one scene repeatedly.
