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Warlord Yousuke

All of my pieces are coming together

0 · 156 views · located in Japan: Sengoku Era

a character in “Ways of The Samurai: Revenge”, originally authored by Skittle_Overlord, as played by RolePlayGateway



He came like a storm, his small army more effective than any larger one. Each person in it special in their own way and renowned for bloodshed. Some of them do not seem human, but then again neither does he. He who stands at a height of six feet and seven inches, with a hulking mass of muscles to fill him out.

Most of his subordinates share the same vision of conquest he does, and others just accept that he is their superior and that it would be wiser to fight with him rather than against him. Two years ago he claimed his home and from there he has been quiet, his province bellow left wondering from day to day whether or not he will stay or continue on. But in his room he lingers, thinking and reading and biding his time, but for what? He sends his shinobi and kunoichi out on secret missions but no one knows what they even are or what they accomplish. He desires to conquer he says, but his activity has been stagnant. What are his plans? A few know that he has the beings of myth under his thumb and they have begun to wonder. Is he a myth too? Perhaps he is only part myth. Or maybe he is simply human and in over his head. But it does not matter what the others wonder, only he and his vision matter, his grand puzzle that he must complete. Whatever it is that he is headed towards he believes it to be his destiny.

So begins...

Warlord Yousuke's Story

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Character Portrait: Warlord Yousuke
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#, as written by Robbhus

Last night had been an... Interesting night. She had gotten in contact with a western merchant bringing goods from his homeland. She didn't remember the name of it, the pronunciation was too weird, but he had interesting goods, that was for sure. The jewelry was pretty, there was no questioning that, but the drinks he had... Compared to sake, sake felt like water in terms of wealth. Much sharper taste, stronger alcohol, and all kinds of fancy spices. She could care less about the fanciness of it though, it had been an interesting night for sure. He had given her a free bottle of the wine after winning over him in a western board game. Luckily, he spoke Japanese, so they could understand one another.

The game had been interesting though. Each player had 16 pieces, and the goal was to simply get rid of one specific piece the opponent had while protecting your own. Eight of the 16 pieces could only move forward and diagonally, but the rest had special features about them, which made the game a lot more interesting. He had called it 'beginners luck' when she won, not that it mattered though, and he had given her another bottle of the wine she had bought a small glass off just to try it. The victory had been well rewarding, but then again, what was a win without a reward? They had tried a couple other games as well, though most of them were too complicated to win in without planning beforehand, so the merchant naturally won, to Kotone's annoyance.

In the end however, the night had been well spent. He had told stories from the west as well, and despite that most of them sounded so dumb Kotone didn't even consider believing them, they were still very interesting to listen to, if so only for the entertainment value.

Her half-drunk self had even ended up purchasing one of the games he had, paying a ridiculous price of course, but then again, her drunk self didn't know better. She had been drinking about the same amount as she would with sake, which had left her as a giggling wreck barely managing to get back to Yousuke's garden, finding herself a nice tree to climb up into (Which took more attempts than she could count on her fingers) before she ended up falling asleep, the hexagonal wood box containing the game left by the root of the tree.

Eventually though, she did wake up. Yousuke's page, Sasuke was it, had passed the tree she had been sleeping in. Most of the alcohol had already been processed, a completely obsolete yet bloody useful ability she had somehow attained at some point. Her eyes followed him as he made his way over to the house Yousuke lived in and she used to store her things (What little she owned) before then to disappear into the villa, which made her lack something to focus on, which made her slowly drift back into sleep after taking a last small sip of the wine.

Her sleep was apparently not going to last long though. The young page had found her after a short amount of time, too short for her to fall properly to sleep, but more than enough to surprise her. She was normally not that easy to find, but then again, when one of her feet was hanging down from the side of the branch, along with a green bottle of wine was hanging between two of her fingers, she wasn't exactly invisible.

He had called her name, and she snapped out of the short sleep, almost falling off the branch, though saving herself with the foot that had been hanging down the side of the branch. She had managed to curve it, so she ended up hanging solemnly for it. She had however lost the grip of the bottle though, so when she fell, the bottle did so too. She managed to save it however, along with some of the liquid, though almost 1/4th of the wine had been poured into the young boy's hair. Kotone climbed up on the branch again and looked down at him.

"Seriously, at least attempt at drinking it, I know it might be fashionable, but still, use something cheap for your hair needs, not my wine" She mockingly said as she climbed off the branch and jumped down to the ground, holding her palm over the bottlehead to avoid more of the liquid being spilled. She could hear the boy mumbling something, though it was too low to hear it, so she dropped the topic and looked at him, leaning back on to the tree, taking another small sip of the bottle.

"Now, what is it? My time is more worth than yours, so speak up" She wasn't exactly pleasant to be around in general, at least for most people, but mocking the boy was almost too fun. She just hoped he wouldn't quit, it was by far too amusing to have him around. "Yousuke received a letter earlier, and while I didn-" Kotone didn't second guess cutting off what sounded like the start of a ten-minute monologue. "Thanks, that's enough, your voice screams in my ears, just tell me what is going on" She brushed some of her hair behind her ears while waiting for him to speak up. "Yousuke wants to see you" was the answer she received. Short, straight to the point, far better than the monologue she had been expecting. "Before you go, have you seen any of the others?" He asked. She picked up the board game and shrugged casually. "If I knew, why would I tell you? That's like telling the end of the story before the beginning, look, have fun, and don't pour more wine in your hair, or if you do, at least buy it yourself" She could see him rubbing some of his hair with two of his fingers, the hair all wet from the dark-red wine.

They left one another, she heading for the mansion while he headed for who knows where, somewhere at the very least. Not that it mattered too much to her at all. She was most likely the first one to be found, at least she thought she were. She walked up to the entrance to the villa and entered it, still wearing the slightly baggy golden yellow pants from the day before, with a kimono jacket thrown over it, despite not being closed properly, leaving the area in between exposed, revealing the bandage pressing her bust down. Along with that, a pair of simple sandals went along with it. She walked up the stairs and entered Yousuke's office, without knocking, as always. No honorable bowing or similarities either, she just entered and sat down, putting the game behind her and the wine besides her. "Good morning to you, Yousuke-Sama" While she wasn't all that grand when it came to honorifics, she had at least enough respect for the man to use the appropriate title for him.

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Character Portrait: matou Kotone Character Portrait: Kurosawa Tsubaki Character Portrait: Warlord Yousuke
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#, as written by Ion


Another day, another pointless exercise in the futility of struggle. And yet here she was, prepared to struggle all the same. She blamed him, and his seemingly perennial ability to convince her of things she knew to be false. But believe him she did, and she knew without having to ask that he would fight his fate, would fight this damnable man that held her in chains, tooth and claw… though perhaps not literally. That option was closed to her for the moment, and everyone involved was well aware of this. Her power was to be exercised at his leisure, and in the meantime, she was reduced to what this frail human-shape could do for her.

It was nothing, she was nothing, compared to what she could be in the full glory of her existence, and this rankled her. The warlord knew that too, and she suspected it amused him.

Tsubaki’s nostrils flared just slightly, the only sign of her discomfort, and a muscle in her jaw ticked. The shinobi that had taken her in, so long ago now, had advocated daily meditations as a way to begin one’s tasks with a clear mind and a solid foundation, but she had ever preferred skating by on the agility of her wit and adaptability. She was too fluid to be solid, and that was just her nature. So she abandoned the effort to be other than she was, and stood instead, crossing to the armoire standing in the corner of her room. The simple sleeping yukata she wore slid to the ground in a whisper of blue silk, and instead, she donned a kimono of deep purple, the distended sleeves exaggerated even for such a garment, paired with an embroidered gold obi, over the more practical and darker vestments of her work. To her knowledge, she wouldn’t be needing the more mobile clothes, at least not today, but she refused not to wear them.

Her present lack of assignment likely meant she would be forced to wander about as a useless ornament to this palatial estate, commanded as ever by a base creature that she despised. Tsubaki knew quite well that the warlord thought of her as his very own particularly exotic pet, and some of his hirelings were not so different. Had she her strength, she would show them all exactly who deserved to bow to whom in this relationship, but presently her soul lay tied to the damnable man’s neck, and she therefore held by the thinnest, most unbreakable of tethers, a red thread binding their fates together for as long as he willed it.

The woman pinned her hair up into a simple mage ornamented only with a pair of inlaid sticks. It was far from the most expensive ensemble she could have donned, but she was not the kind of woman that preferred nor needed excessive decoration. Also, she detested that none of the things she was granted were hers, and this was a small, subtle showing of her disapproval. Sliding open the painted shoji screen that led out into the main hallway, she wended her way down the labyrinthine corridors to the garden, which tended to be her preferred dwelling place. It was close enough that she did not feel the ache of separation from her star ball, but distant enough that she usually didn’t have to see Yosuke Harada, much less interact with him.

It was too late in the year for cherry blossoms, but the garden was lovely anyway, and she settled with as much contentment as she ever felt anymore into seiza, enjoying the fragrance and the colors. If she stayed like this long enough, her thoughts would eventually quiet, as her long-lived mind drifted back over the spans she had already occupied, and tried to avoid thinking of the millennia that yet lay before her. There were mistakes to be found there, certainly, but also happiness, and it was to this that she held most dearly. Tsubaki held no faith that she would find any in the near future, and so she found it in the past instead.

…Or at least, she would have, had she not been interrupted by Yosuke’s attendant boy. Sasuke, his name was, though she would never admit to knowing it, and she certainly would not use it. She was not oblivious to the fact that the warlord actually commanded a fair amount of loyalty from some of the others who served him, and there was a certain logic to it. The youkai excepted (many of whom she’d been forced to trick into his service), he was a relatively fair person to those that served him. She could hardly be bothered to consider this a redeeming feature when her soul rested in his hands and he showed no inclination to give it back.

Nevertheless, she was bound to answer summonses, and this one was no exception. Waving the boy off to find the next of his assigned targets, Tsubaki flowed into a stand and made her way through several side corridors before she found the room she was looking for. Even if she had not been told where he was, she would have been able to find him without anything but the call of her essence to her body. A subtle twitch to the muscle in the right side of her jaw was smoothed out, and the face she wore today was a vaguely-disdainful neutrality. She did not announce her presence—he would know of her nearness just as surely as she knew of his. Instead she entered, ignoring everyone else and simply took a seat, utterly silent.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Hirano Hiroki Character Portrait: matou Kotone Character Portrait: Kurosawa Tsubaki Character Portrait: Warlord Yousuke
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The former Kobayashi estate, for all its history as a place where an entire family and their servants were brutally slaughtered, was a rather beautiful place. New servants went about maintaining all the walls and the paper of the shoji, though the designs depicted on them made them more reminiscent of artwork than parts of a building. And then there was the gardens, several of them, all filled with beautiful trees that seemed to constantly await the spring and flowers of all colors. Hiroki had not expected his new lord to be one for the preservation of such expensive beauty--he always came across as someone with a more pragmatic worldview--but he was happy to be surprised by such a thing. He was still wary of the parts of the estate that he had yet to explore, thinking that behind this door or around that corner he might find a corridor stained with the dried blood of the previous inhabitants, but that did not stop him or his family from enjoying the gardens.

While Hiroki was certainly grateful for his new home and considered it more than a criminal in exile could ever expect, it was rather modest in comparison to his last few abodes and not currently fit for the task of spoiling his family. He had commissioned several expanses to his new estate and it was well on its way to becoming a lovely home, but it was not quite there yet. In addition a simple desire to be amongst the luxury of a daimyo's home, these visits also provided him with a twofold service. The first was that his family would grow more acquainted to the generous lord that they would loyally serve in a few years. The second, and the one that enthused his children the most, was that Yousuke-sama's home also happened to be the home to several masters of martial arts who were open to training the younger followers.

And so, Hiroki sat in his white captain's garb beside his kimono-clad wife and watched his son and daughter swing their wooden swords around to the orders of Akakawa Gendo, a disgraced samurai from southern Satsuma. Yousuke-sama was apparently deep in contemplation elsewhere on the estate, leaving training and the view the only benefit from this visit, or, at least, that was what Hiroki though before he caught sight of someone moving about at the other side of the courtyard. On closer inspection it turned out to be Sasuke the page, who was currently scanning the rooftops for those who would normally be found perched upon them. Instinctively, Hiroki did the same, growing a bit tired of the ninja's perverse pleasure of appearing out of nowhere and awing his children. Before he could examine each and every tile to his satisfaction, though, the page turned his attention to the visiting family and approached them, bowing before the guests of his lord.

Hiroki rose and gave a bow of his own before the page relayed his lord's summoning. After he received the acknowledgement that his message had been received and understood, Sasuke bowed once again to the samurai and quickly took his leave--likely to go find a shinobi up a tree or a kunoichi hanging from the ceiling somewhere. Hiroki touched his wife's hand and smiled before stepping off the veranda and interrupting his children's training. He explained to them that he was going to go meet with the esteemed Yousuke-sama, and exchanged a few departing pleasantries with his subordinate and their instructor. Gendo gave the order for Hiroko and Kouki to bow to their father and future commander and, as they did so, he, with a proud smile on his face, returned their bow before departing and leaving them under the supervision of their mother.

Navigating his way through the hallways, Hiroki sidestepped busy servants carrying food and tools and nodded towards the guards and officers he passed on his way to his lord's office. He was now away from his family, which meant that his posture became rigid and every movement was done with conscious effort; he might be amongst a bunch of misfits and demons, but lifelong habits didn't yield that easily. When he reached the paper divide between the hall and the room his lord supposedly occupied, he took a deep breath, made sure everything about him was in order, and slowly slid the door to the side.

Already inside the room were two of the kunoichi that Hiroki had seen about the estate, one Matou Kotone and Kurosawa Tsubaki. Matou seemed to be a commoner, as were most of those who fought from the shadows, but Kurosawa had a much more refined air about her and she always did. As he was not aware of any family by that name, how she came to be such was completely unknown, but she seemed to serve the daimyo well, as did Matou, though that didn't make the sight of armed women any less unusual for the traditional man. Female warriors weren't something unheard of, especially amongst samurai women or assassins, but their regularity and openness in Yousuke's territory was what made them odd.

Regardless of this, it was only a moment before Hiroki took a few steps inside the room and took his place on the floor, with his legs underneath him and perfectly parallel and his hands placed on the floor before him. He bowed sincerely before his casually-placed lord, as one was supposed to do. After a moment, he raised his head to look at his lord and returned his hands to his lap. His posture was perfect, his face was stoic and unwavering, and his voice was devoid of any intonation of emotion. "You called for me, Yousuke-sama?"