08-05-2017, 12:25 AM
The stories had been interesting, if a little confusing. Hairy man? What sort of tale was that? And he was confused about the ghost sending messages. How could you read 'hands free?' What is a goth-boy?
The stories were broken up momentarily by what appeared to be drunken antics. He was not one to drink often, and this was just why. The lack of self was both shameful and amusing. Perhaps it was amusing because it was shameful. Takezo did not ponder it much. Instead, after Dust fishes Jack out of the water, the swordsman retakes his place by the fire. He thought for a moment... then sighed. "I suppose I should attempt a frightening tale."
He received more than a few looks. It was Gildarts who stopped him. "I think we've had enough scary stories for tonight." The Strongest Prime had no doubt that the grizzled swordsman had a few dark tales to spin, but he worried they would not be as innocent as Molly's, or as whimsical as Ash's. The dark look in the ronin's eyes was already the stuff of nightmares. Even as Takezo catches his eyes, Gildarts felt that invasive fear. It was not unlike the fear he instilled in many others, in fact. Takezo's was simply a bit more subtle. A lot more, in fact.
He did not say anything, but Takezo had a feeling Gildarts was being protective. Many a time children would be hidden from him if he ever revisited a village. Few ever bothered to look past the dark reputation. "If you say so." The subject was dropped. The scarred man pokes at the fire with his skewer, idly occupying himself with some menial task to brighten the fire by stoking its embers. He only occomplishes setting the wooden stick on fire in the process. "I was simply going to retell the story of how this man almost sold me something called a 'G-string' as clothing." That was not what he was going to say, but it elicited a much more positive response.
"Oh wow, Takezo in a banana hammock? I'd pay to see that!" Dust quips with laughter as he return. He had missed the end of story time whilst saving the vomiting Jak, so all he heard was Takezo talking about the poor excuse of beachwear. "Wait, on second thought, that might be a life-scarring event right there."
"Maybe. I'd take the gamble," Ash chimes, her gaze lingering over Takezo for a moment.
Gildarts just facepalms.
"He said I looked like a 'King of the Beach' type to him. At the time I was covered in more bloodied bandages than skin, so apparently he prefers his nobles dead or dying. Not that I don't agree," Takezo smirked. "I was just too busy worrying if I could keep everything tucked away in a scrap of cloth too small to use as thread."
"That's just... gross." Molly was shaking her head, holding her ears to try and block out the conversation. A glance her way and he decided it best to drop the topic, before ol' Gil decides this was not suitable either.
Takezo was not appropriate for children. He was awkward at civil conversations, especially with the sheltered living of today. His life had been focused on physical strengthening, not social understanding. He could cleave a bull in two, but trying to entertain a child was like asking him to move a mountain. It just could not happen. Dust watches as the man withdraws again. He could see this was not his element. Takezo was a warrior, and more of a lone wolf than the wolfish man himself. Takezo was not exactly a pack animal.
The stories were broken up momentarily by what appeared to be drunken antics. He was not one to drink often, and this was just why. The lack of self was both shameful and amusing. Perhaps it was amusing because it was shameful. Takezo did not ponder it much. Instead, after Dust fishes Jack out of the water, the swordsman retakes his place by the fire. He thought for a moment... then sighed. "I suppose I should attempt a frightening tale."
He received more than a few looks. It was Gildarts who stopped him. "I think we've had enough scary stories for tonight." The Strongest Prime had no doubt that the grizzled swordsman had a few dark tales to spin, but he worried they would not be as innocent as Molly's, or as whimsical as Ash's. The dark look in the ronin's eyes was already the stuff of nightmares. Even as Takezo catches his eyes, Gildarts felt that invasive fear. It was not unlike the fear he instilled in many others, in fact. Takezo's was simply a bit more subtle. A lot more, in fact.
He did not say anything, but Takezo had a feeling Gildarts was being protective. Many a time children would be hidden from him if he ever revisited a village. Few ever bothered to look past the dark reputation. "If you say so." The subject was dropped. The scarred man pokes at the fire with his skewer, idly occupying himself with some menial task to brighten the fire by stoking its embers. He only occomplishes setting the wooden stick on fire in the process. "I was simply going to retell the story of how this man almost sold me something called a 'G-string' as clothing." That was not what he was going to say, but it elicited a much more positive response.
"Oh wow, Takezo in a banana hammock? I'd pay to see that!" Dust quips with laughter as he return. He had missed the end of story time whilst saving the vomiting Jak, so all he heard was Takezo talking about the poor excuse of beachwear. "Wait, on second thought, that might be a life-scarring event right there."
"Maybe. I'd take the gamble," Ash chimes, her gaze lingering over Takezo for a moment.
Gildarts just facepalms.
"He said I looked like a 'King of the Beach' type to him. At the time I was covered in more bloodied bandages than skin, so apparently he prefers his nobles dead or dying. Not that I don't agree," Takezo smirked. "I was just too busy worrying if I could keep everything tucked away in a scrap of cloth too small to use as thread."
"That's just... gross." Molly was shaking her head, holding her ears to try and block out the conversation. A glance her way and he decided it best to drop the topic, before ol' Gil decides this was not suitable either.
Takezo was not appropriate for children. He was awkward at civil conversations, especially with the sheltered living of today. His life had been focused on physical strengthening, not social understanding. He could cleave a bull in two, but trying to entertain a child was like asking him to move a mountain. It just could not happen. Dust watches as the man withdraws again. He could see this was not his element. Takezo was a warrior, and more of a lone wolf than the wolfish man himself. Takezo was not exactly a pack animal.