YEAR OF THE TIGERDRAGON

[vengaboy]

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 was kinda, 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!

Comments

[righteyed]

[Thankfully, this is a time of-- well...Okay, it's still a time of forcing your kids to do shit they don't exactly want to do, but at least Kojuro didn't fuck up too much on that front, going by how Masamune turned out. And it's definitely not the case with his own flute playing; everyone has their quirks and methods of calming down in eras such as these, and if a grown man talks to vegetables and plays the flute both in and out of battle to ease his racing heartbeat, then that's not the weirdest thing anyone's ever done, right?

When he finishes his piece, Kojuro glances up and smiles faintly, albeit still warmly at his spectator; somehow, even with her subdued taste in kimono, he has the feeling that she's one of the world-walking passers-through. (Even if he won't be able to peg her as the girl who sent him some pretty damn good memes, alas.)]

...Thank you. It has taken me far too many hours to come this far, however; I cannot claim talent so much as sheer stubbornness. I would ask for any requests, but I fear that...perhaps I wouldn't know any pieces you recommended. Would I be right?

[standingonmyneck]

I wonder what was the dead giveaway.

[A remark on no one's expense but hers. She removed some of the hair from her eyes and adjusted her thick glasses. In other words; she stuck out like a sore thumb around here and knew it. As much as she was not the social type, she knew trying to just watch the party wasn't likely when she seemed like she was the only Westerner.]

Hm. Stubbornness pays off sometimes, particularly when you dedicated so much time with it. There's talent in that.

[She offered that off the bat, maybe it was the natural kindness he seemed to have.]

[righteyed]

[There's confusion on his face for a second; Masamune himself has a monocle for reading finer print, and with the Christian Xavist missionaries becoming more and more popular, seeing Westerners isn't so uncommon these days.

Then again, they aren't quite as dry as Daria is. Maybe that's it. The point is that it washes away soon enough, swiftly replaced by the tips of his ears starting to burn and a rather sheepish sort of defeat.]

...To say that persistence and dedication are not their own talents would be a lie, I suppose. And...Someone had to learn how to play for my lord. He's rather fond of dancing, so it was a natural matter that one of his retainers take up an instrument. If there is any talent past my pigheadedness, then I am only too glad to claim it.

Do you enjoy the arts, Miss-- no, a ridiculous question. Everyone does, to a degree. Do you participate would be more apt. Instrumental or no. You strike me as the sort who...Has the soul for it. Thoughtful, inquisitive, a song of your own creation.

[standingonmyneck]

[This guy was the real deal. It was so unreal almost how how softspoken someone can be to his own duty and talent. She cocked her head, taking interest in the conversation. There was something so soft and humble about those words, and it caused her caramel center to feel free to surface just a tad. She had faith she can smell pretension and fakeness in others, and she didn’t see anything in this gent but sincerity. Which was somewhat rare.]

It takes a lot to be dedicated. Especially if you’re that serious about it. At that point, it’s far passed obligation and comes off as genuinely passionate. People can see that sincerity.

[She let that simmer for a moment before speaking again.]

...I like to write.