Date "feudal frat boy" Masamune (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vengaboy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hotsteamynights2018-12-19 08:03 pm
vengaboy) wrote in hotsteamynights2018-12-19 08:03 pm
YEAR OF THE TIGERDRAGON
No matter what language you speak, no matter what country or universe you reside in, a mysterious letter has found its way to you. Those who can read it will recognize it as an ornately scripted Japanese new year's invitation; those who don't might not even know these elaborate squiggles mean anything at all. Either way, when you look up from the neatly folded paper, you're probably nowhere near home anymore.
Where is this?! When is this?! Welcome to Japan as it waskinda, sorta, just shy of the year 1600, esteemed guests! If it somehow feels like it isn't even the right month anymore, that's because local time and date is still on the lunar system. It's fine. New Year's parties are New Year's parties.
And those parties mean alcohol! Music! Dancing! Feasting! Don't be shy! There are a number of attendants in colourful livery nearby, eagerly expecting an influx of new guests. They're all friendly enough, but they don't seem to bear the crest of any particular clan and sharp-eyed visitors may catch the briefest glimpse of a striped fluffy tail or a foxy grin... or is it a trick of the light? If you want nothing to do with any of this, they might pout a little but will send you home without any problem. But if you choose to follow them beyond the gates, get ready for one hell of a night. The only kind of explanation you get for what's going on is that the Takeda and Date clans have set aside their rivalries for a night of PEACE AND PARTY and everyone's invited. What does that mean? Go find out for yourself.
Of course folks from all over have been invited to this thing, but outnumbering the other guests by far are a bunch of rowdy samurai types, some in their armour, many in more formal robes, several proudly bearing banners of red or blue. Nobody appears to have any weapons on them, but if any guest takes that as an opportunity to start some shit they're going to be swarmed in like two seconds, so... maybe don't do that. However! There is plenty of space outside to spar in, if that's your thing! Or you can stay inside and drink, eat, enjoy the music, exchange raunchy stories, be an awkward wallflower, drink some more, witness some weird and kind of horrific family bonding, watch the unique display of gun- and canonfire alongside the fireworks, explore the scenic countryside outside of the compound, listen to some smug asshole in an eyepatch and some kid in red scream really loud at eachother, get playfully bullied into taking part in a ceremony you know nothing about, drain a bottle or two, flirt with famous historical figures, or... whatever you want!
All fandoms, all mediums, AUs, doubles, OCs, etc are all fair play here! Invite your friends! Invite your dog! Go nuts! Just slap a warning up if any threads take a particularly violent or sexy turn. Or both. I ain't judging.
LET'S PARTY!
Where is this?! When is this?! Welcome to Japan as it was
And those parties mean alcohol! Music! Dancing! Feasting! Don't be shy! There are a number of attendants in colourful livery nearby, eagerly expecting an influx of new guests. They're all friendly enough, but they don't seem to bear the crest of any particular clan and sharp-eyed visitors may catch the briefest glimpse of a striped fluffy tail or a foxy grin... or is it a trick of the light? If you want nothing to do with any of this, they might pout a little but will send you home without any problem. But if you choose to follow them beyond the gates, get ready for one hell of a night. The only kind of explanation you get for what's going on is that the Takeda and Date clans have set aside their rivalries for a night of PEACE AND PARTY and everyone's invited. What does that mean? Go find out for yourself.
Of course folks from all over have been invited to this thing, but outnumbering the other guests by far are a bunch of rowdy samurai types, some in their armour, many in more formal robes, several proudly bearing banners of red or blue. Nobody appears to have any weapons on them, but if any guest takes that as an opportunity to start some shit they're going to be swarmed in like two seconds, so... maybe don't do that. However! There is plenty of space outside to spar in, if that's your thing! Or you can stay inside and drink, eat, enjoy the music, exchange raunchy stories, be an awkward wallflower, drink some more, witness some weird and kind of horrific family bonding, watch the unique display of gun- and canonfire alongside the fireworks, explore the scenic countryside outside of the compound, listen to some smug asshole in an eyepatch and some kid in red scream really loud at eachother, get playfully bullied into taking part in a ceremony you know nothing about, drain a bottle or two, flirt with famous historical figures, or... whatever you want!
All fandoms, all mediums, AUs, doubles, OCs, etc are all fair play here! Invite your friends! Invite your dog! Go nuts! Just slap a warning up if any threads take a particularly violent or sexy turn. Or both. I ain't judging.
LET'S PARTY!
no subject
uh
Okay, fine. What if Masamune's the one doing the hearing? Use a pipe to lure rats, use a flute for dragons; not even a minute in to Kojuro's playing and Masamune has found a way to extricate himself from whatever social obligation he was tied up in (not that he's ever been one to waste time on tactfulness anyway) and seat himself on the floor behind Kojuro, leaning fully against his back. The very same routine they've had for years, from when Bontenmaru's head barely reached Kojuro's shoulder blades up until now, as Masamune comfortably the back of his head against the curve of Kojuro's neck. Two perfectly fitting pieces.
Of course he doesn't dare interrupt that peaceful, nostalgic tune. Amongst all the chaos of the party (which he instigates by choice), it's nice to have something that's calm and familiar to grant him just the briefest respite. He's not tired, per se, but he's had more than enough alcohol to feel warm and fuzzy and veeery relaaaxed... enough so that he might fall asleep, were he in his own home, and if he weren't sober enough to remember that Yukimura's still wide awake. Like hell Masamune's going to let anybody out-party him, but especially not him.
It doesn't even take being as attuned to Masamune's needs as Kojuro is to catch on that he's hit a lull, though. When the music does stop, the most commentary he offers is a pleased, sleepy little hmmmmmh. Beautiful playing as always, Kojuro.]
no subject
Well.
He'd be a fool to not enjoy this when everyone's tipsy and starting to wind down themselves. He's trapped in position, lest he make Masamune spill over and piss him off, but that's fine. This is fine. He can still turn his head just enough to see that mop of brown hair, twist his arm just enough to brush his fingers against whatever he can touch. Acknowledgement, appreciation, adoration.]
Close your eye, my lord. I will continue playing for you. [Said just a little louder than necessary, for the benefit of anyone nearby who had any harebrained ideas of disturbing them right now, before Kojuro pushes the warm little smile from his face and puts Shiokaze back to his lips.]
no subject
[This time he does interrupt, huffing a short and quiet laugh that at least heaves his ribs enough to wake him up a little. He stretches his legs out, feet half-pushing, half-sliding against the tatami as he tries to press against Kojuro even more. There isn't that much space between them in the first place.]
You trying to put me to sleep so early? You know that's not my stye. [Maybe. Maybe sometimes it's his style. But not at his own party and certainly not at Yukimura's. His hand blindly sweeps over the floor where he imagines Kojuro's hand to be, and even after coming up empty it takes him a good moment to remember that it's probably on the flute.]
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...But yeah, once he does, Shiokaze gets tucked away once more as he turns just a little, just enough to wedge his arm between them and hook it around Masamune's waist. Shhhh no one's looking man, let him do this much.]
I am merely playing to my own content. If you should fall asleep because of it...I can hardly be blamed. But I would rather you stay awake, myself; we have been preoccupied until now, and I have not had the chance to drink with you. [...WHERE THE FUCK THAT SECOND SAKE BOTTLE COME FROM. Oh well too late he's handing it over now, humming a little under his breath like a mother very much trying to lull her child to sleep. It's an instinct, okay. He's not trying to do this on purpose.]
no subject
[But then, Masamune was cooing over a cat who resembled Kojuro, so it all evens out. His free hand toys idly with Kojuro's fingers and he turns his head to murmur into the crook of his neck.]
Come with me to my quarters and remind yourself what I really look like.
[Speaking of hitting the hooch too hard. Masamune usually has the (surprising) subtlety to save this kind of flirtation for when they're completely alone. And in his own home. Masamune please you don't even have a room here.]
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But yeah, no. He's not fucking explaining that shit to Masamune when they've both been on the goon. As long as there's no urge to go lopping 'imposters' heads off, then he's fine to leave it be until necessary.
BESIDES, PRIORITIES. Sorry, Masamini. Mom's busy getting hit on in public and looking flustered as fuck for it. If Masamune has the subtlety to keep it to Oshuu proper and singular company, then Kojuro usually...Has more control over his facial expressions, at least. But there's open-faced surprise on his rapidly flushing face, like somehow he wasn't expecting this. REALLY, KOJURO?] Ah...
There are no quarters here, my lord. It will have to wait until morning, but rest assured that I could never forget what you look like, down to the last detail. My dear friend and you...Are very different. [Time to pour himself some sake and get bolder about his own dipshit flirting, at least.] Your hair catches amber in the light, like his eye. But your eye is akin to a gathering storm in its depth, your voice more like rolling thunder. Every scar you have, I have witnessed; I could not tell you his scars.
[And he has the fucking balls to try and look demure as he says all this gay shit, eyes cast to the side and lips barely grazing the rim of his cup.] This Kojuro could never forget what his lord looks like.
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[Just a bit of half-hearted muttering about the rooming situation before he clams up and listens to Kojuro paint this picture of his voice with mere words, and without even bbeing able to properly see his face he mirrors his expression all the same. Praise and flattery's great and all, but to hear it from Kojuro actually means a damn thing to him. His shoulders bunch up ever so slightly as he takes a long sip of sake to wait out this childish giddiness.]
...You'd better have more of that ready for this year's poetry competition.
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You do not need my failures to make yourself shine, so I will spare you that much. That you are both like treasures to me is a simple, bare-faced fact of life, not poetry.
[Okay enough coy maiden bullshit. There's enough lazy sear running through him right now that he feels bold enough to duck around for a kiss to the cheek, like this is normal and they're just awkwardly courting lovers instead of Fucking Dokuganryuu And His Right Eye. But is anyone paying them any mind?
Does Kojuro care if they are, right now? It's the worst kept secret of the era.] I would much rather hear you speak poetry, Lord Masamune.
no subject
and you know half the Date boys ship it anyway.Masamune snorts lightly and swirls the clear brew in his cup, shooting a wry grin over his shoulder.]
Shut your damn mouth. I'd rather you take second place so we can showcase that couth and culture are synonymous with Oshuu.
[It's better than hearing people write northerners off as a bunch of backwater hicks. Gentlemen aside.]
You're just mad there's something I can actually beat you at.
[Just gonna WAGGLE HIS EYEBROWS and take a long draught of sake, looking pleased as punch no matter what kind of eyerolling or elbowing that earns him. Or punching.]
Huuhhmm... But if it's my turn to wax poetic, I'll get a little warm-up before tomorrow. I just need a second... I'm a little drunk.
[SSSSSIIIIP. Drunker.]
...Everyone here's waiting for sunrise, but I've always preferred the cooler comfort of moonlight. You know that?
[What another shocking twist here. Masamune takes another sip and closes his eye, picturing the night beyond the walls of the compound, all silver-lined snow and stars.]
Gorgeous to behold no matter what state it's in... drawing out ethereal beauty even from ruin. [Even ugly children.] I used to chase after it years ago, afraid of being left in shadows, but I've grown to realize it's always been present. Watching, casting light on the world around me so I don't stumble. So I can find my way even when night is darkest.
I can only pity all those bastards who can't fully appreciate it.
no subject
Anyway, it's not like he can say much when he's intently listening to Masamune's poetic waxing. It's not a poem proper, sure, but it's still lovely to listen to, and Kojuro's eyelids start lowering a little before he realises.
Ah.
Hm.] I am sure that Tsukiyomi is aware of your attentions, my lord, and is grateful. Perhaps she will remember your words and fondness in her weaker moments, and stand strong against her enemies with your confidence bolstering her.
But I can say with certainty that the moonlight never wished to, and never will, leave you in shadow. You have always glowed with or without her love, and will continue even when you cannot see her. [It's hard, getting progressively more drunk off your ass and trying to keep both your composure and your words in check. He's doing his best, though.] Perhaps it is Tsukiyomi's light that has always been chasing after you as you race ahead, trying to swallow your shadow and replace it.