_ImHere4You_
New member
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
「 ✦ LORE TEAM APPLICATION ✦ 」
𝐒𝐭✰𝐫boy
✰ What’s your IGN?:
_ImHere4You_
✰ What’s your Discord Tag?:
LoveMe7777_
✰ Do you have any alternative accounts?:
WhoTfAreU_ !! Used rarely however.
✰ Do you have a functioning microphone?:
Yes, I do!
✰ How old are you?:
Eighteen years old.
✰ Have you worked in teams like this before?:
In real life, yes. I have worked alongside my school’s theater team for writing the scripts.
Online, in small settings usually 2-6 of my friends for specific events!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
✰ Do you have any previous experience?:
My previous experience comes from my real-life participation in the theater club in my school (while it lasted). I pitched the ideas for my teacher and team, wrote the scripts, and gave out the roles. While this might not relate too much with the online sphere, especially in roleplay, I believe this experience helps provide a dramatic perspective when it comes to pitching ideas and discussions.
✰ What do you believe is your writing strong suit?:
Absolutely and one-hundred percent: characters. Characters and backstories of all kinds are my strongest suit! Not to ‘toot my own horn,’ but I have been described as having well-thought-out characters that are unique and complex in their own right. With my current major in Psychology, and the four years of research in that same field, I’ve found my groove in writing different character mindsets and ensuring I represent them well.
I’ve dabbled in atmospheric settings, and have much to improve there when it comes to describing environments well. Although it falls outside my usual experience, it is one of the things I am working on passionately.
Coming back to backstories and lore, research is one of the aspects I enjoy there. Many of my stories take place in different regions around the globe, specifically Japan and European countries. In addition, I love writing myself a good mystery! People who have gotten lost in time, curses that span generations, familial conflict that would give psychiatrists heart attacks. I generally enjoy writing darker topics, balancing between that and specs of hope, every good story needs a balance between all of that.
✰ Why are you interested in joining the Lore Team?:
It’s not all the time that one sees an opportunity to become part of rising communities!! Now, personally, I have had the idea of doing more. I’ve seen how much people enjoy undiscovered mysteries, finding trails to old hidden stories, lore that is unknown to many. I want to be part of that. Part of the team that allows such curiosity and joy to foster!
That would be my biggest reason for applying. My second biggest is my own enjoyment. Brainstorming, discussions and on and on are one of the things I enjoy the most. Sharing ideas, pitching new ones, and participating in making someone’s stories come to light. There’s such a charm in those aspects– and when someone finds out something new, we can go ‘Find out more’ (As we clickity-clack on our keyboards with a bright grin)
✰ How did you learn about the server?:
From my super awesome friend, zacizach! She and I were discussing different roleplay servers, and she introduced me to YRP!! Ever since then, I have joined the discord server and kept an eye out whilst discovering what this place has to offer <3.
✰ What unique contributions can you bring to the server?:
I believe one of my core skills is research. I have researched numerous topics, within my interests or not, and brought forth something of use. I bring a sense of honesty in my ideas and or other’s. A balance between compliments and advice, which is important in a team, in order to improve further! I consider myself to be detail-oriented, without overlooking the bigger picture during projects.
With or without being on teams, I am unafraid to ask first (if I may), then put forward my piece of mind. An addition, or a new idea for the sake of improving the story!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
✰ Write a short story of a Self-Made Yokai you can find roaming throughout the island:
“Hmm .. mm .. hmmm .. hm .. ”
Sounded a hum throughout the shore. Waves gently cradling your feet as the breeze combed through your hair. It was nice, calm .. yet no one was around.
“ Mhm .. hmm .. hmm~ ”
He sounded once more. A shadow walking in the distance. Strands of black hair, so black it might’ve absorbed all the light of the moon. There was an unexplainable allure about him .. slow, steady steps, and the melodious humming that echoed in the space around you. How did it echo in the beach- but not even that concern had a weight. you couldn’t tear your eyes away, he was a wonderful sight beyond all else. . Unmoving from your place, you watched until the man turned. A smile so charming bloomed on his veiled features. Sharp, unnatural serpent-like eyes. He turned to the ocean.. Walking into it until nothing of him was left.
You thought yourself a simple witness, but it was only the Ofuda hidden within your pocket that kept your feet from following behind.
Hinezumi-san. A name that sounded familiar to all ears. It’s said that he walks the shore every night, back and forth four times. His hair was down to his ankles, long and silky.. Eyes colored like the morning sun, sharp and wise. A serene smile that painted his lips. He had no use for pleasantries, nor did he entertain any conversations. Parents warded their children from the strange man. Isn’t the number four foul? Yet he walks it in peace. Something must be wrong with him. Humans are plagued by burdens and emotions, it is what makes a soul.
In no time, rumors spread. For what are those mortals capable of anyways but making stories from thin air? Stories of the man abandoning his family to pursue his nightly walks. His wife must be miserable, raising their children all alone. Does he have no job to attend to? Friends or family? Some say he was a man who traded his life for a demonic bargain. Some say that he was always walking until the sun rose.. One thing about him was clear. He was no mortal.
On the first walk, he hummed, and the sound bent around the moonlight. On the second, he sang, carrying sorrows deep from within. On the third, his hands rose in the air, tracing constellations no one could see, where his fingers went, a string of light followed faintly, as if nature itself sang with him. On the fourth, his feet carried him in a dance of his own. Weightless. His hair follows like a dark comet, leaving behind a trail of smoke and droplets of mist.
Until the whispers around him changed.
At first, he was only a man with no life or family. Now, they could swear they saw others walk beside him. Either next to him, or following closely behind. Humming, singing, waving, dancing. Their hands moved in jerks and spasms, their lips parted, yet no voice escaped, only his own that sang sounding in the air. Their feet seemed to sink into the sand with each wave, no matter how much they tried- they were nothing but a mere whisper to his grace. A forgettable breeze.
By morning, he was alone. Those who gazed too long into his eyes found their feet following along. Unwilling, imperfect. Step and step until the waves swallowed them whole. His story was never known- only the song he sang, carried on the shore winds .. waiting for another to hear.
✰ Write a quick event based on Japanese pop-up cafes/restaurants/stores (Promotional cafes based on media such as anime, gaming, spirits, etc.):
“ Gather around, gather around!! A once-in-a-lifetime experience, we’ve travelled far and wide to reach you people of Norowarejima Island! Welcome to tonight's show: The Soul Carnival “
An old clock placed high and mighty chimes three times. Its wood is old but steady, carvings of time decorating its surface. The first chime brings in the circus, colours bursting into life as the actors emerge from behind mist and smoke. They flaunt their skills high and low, jumping over you with ease and touching the stars of the night. Oh, look! One of them leans down, hands a child a flower. What a kind soul! Kids and teens alike looked as the foxes came into sight. They followed the jesters and leaped with pride as the circus came to life.
You can smell a distinct scent of food lingering in the air, soy and honey- maybe a sprinkle of chilli! Stalls lined the streets left and right. Wherever your eyes might land, there was a grin and a hand waving you closer, beckoning you to take samples! They all wore the freshest of garments, their stalls colored in joy and whimsy. Flags plastered across the banners, a telltale sign of the country this cuisine is from.
“ From all around the world, we bring you unique cuisine! “
said the head of the show, he wore all kinds of fabrics and textures, his eyes were alight with mischief as his grin split his face open! The old man with his cane knocked on the floor and CHIME- The third ring comes from the old clock, the speakers now coming to the show as they blast old songs that brightened the faces of parents and grandparents. Tales embedded within lyrics that you were once told. They sang Shintaro San of the mountains. The choir of women came forth, voices merging into a wonderful melody that sweetened your soul.
“ For each country we came, bringing you what the elden days held. Please, enjoy! For you might feel transported back in time. “
The old man laughed, his shoulders shaking with delight. With his cane, he tip-tapped the floor. You can swear he was transparent, for the colours shone just a touch too bright on him– but as such, he was gone within the crowds.
The soul carnival has come every year since you were young. Every time a different choir came to be, the same stalls and the head never seemed to grow old, yet their food was always fresh.
Rumours had it that all of those people who brought the carnival were lost souls, where they found purpose entertaining the living. Some say they have makeup on, a trick of artistry that they never seem to age. Every year you attended, the food simply grew more delicious. The shows are much more enticing, and when it leaves in the blink of an eye, the streets it occupied now empty overnight, it felt as though it had picked a part of your soul along with it.
✰ How would you write the atmosphere of the image provided below?
(Byakuyakoku Shinto Monastery)
「 ✦ LORE TEAM APPLICATION ✦ 」
𝐒𝐭✰𝐫boy
✰ What’s your IGN?:
_ImHere4You_
✰ What’s your Discord Tag?:
LoveMe7777_
✰ Do you have any alternative accounts?:
WhoTfAreU_ !! Used rarely however.
✰ Do you have a functioning microphone?:
Yes, I do!
✰ How old are you?:
Eighteen years old.
✰ Have you worked in teams like this before?:
In real life, yes. I have worked alongside my school’s theater team for writing the scripts.
Online, in small settings usually 2-6 of my friends for specific events!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
✰ Do you have any previous experience?:
My previous experience comes from my real-life participation in the theater club in my school (while it lasted). I pitched the ideas for my teacher and team, wrote the scripts, and gave out the roles. While this might not relate too much with the online sphere, especially in roleplay, I believe this experience helps provide a dramatic perspective when it comes to pitching ideas and discussions.
✰ What do you believe is your writing strong suit?:
Absolutely and one-hundred percent: characters. Characters and backstories of all kinds are my strongest suit! Not to ‘toot my own horn,’ but I have been described as having well-thought-out characters that are unique and complex in their own right. With my current major in Psychology, and the four years of research in that same field, I’ve found my groove in writing different character mindsets and ensuring I represent them well.
I’ve dabbled in atmospheric settings, and have much to improve there when it comes to describing environments well. Although it falls outside my usual experience, it is one of the things I am working on passionately.
Coming back to backstories and lore, research is one of the aspects I enjoy there. Many of my stories take place in different regions around the globe, specifically Japan and European countries. In addition, I love writing myself a good mystery! People who have gotten lost in time, curses that span generations, familial conflict that would give psychiatrists heart attacks. I generally enjoy writing darker topics, balancing between that and specs of hope, every good story needs a balance between all of that.
✰ Why are you interested in joining the Lore Team?:
It’s not all the time that one sees an opportunity to become part of rising communities!! Now, personally, I have had the idea of doing more. I’ve seen how much people enjoy undiscovered mysteries, finding trails to old hidden stories, lore that is unknown to many. I want to be part of that. Part of the team that allows such curiosity and joy to foster!
That would be my biggest reason for applying. My second biggest is my own enjoyment. Brainstorming, discussions and on and on are one of the things I enjoy the most. Sharing ideas, pitching new ones, and participating in making someone’s stories come to light. There’s such a charm in those aspects– and when someone finds out something new, we can go ‘Find out more’ (As we clickity-clack on our keyboards with a bright grin)
✰ How did you learn about the server?:
From my super awesome friend, zacizach! She and I were discussing different roleplay servers, and she introduced me to YRP!! Ever since then, I have joined the discord server and kept an eye out whilst discovering what this place has to offer <3.
✰ What unique contributions can you bring to the server?:
I believe one of my core skills is research. I have researched numerous topics, within my interests or not, and brought forth something of use. I bring a sense of honesty in my ideas and or other’s. A balance between compliments and advice, which is important in a team, in order to improve further! I consider myself to be detail-oriented, without overlooking the bigger picture during projects.
With or without being on teams, I am unafraid to ask first (if I may), then put forward my piece of mind. An addition, or a new idea for the sake of improving the story!
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
✰ Write a short story of a Self-Made Yokai you can find roaming throughout the island:
“Hmm .. mm .. hmmm .. hm .. ”
Sounded a hum throughout the shore. Waves gently cradling your feet as the breeze combed through your hair. It was nice, calm .. yet no one was around.
“ Mhm .. hmm .. hmm~ ”
He sounded once more. A shadow walking in the distance. Strands of black hair, so black it might’ve absorbed all the light of the moon. There was an unexplainable allure about him .. slow, steady steps, and the melodious humming that echoed in the space around you. How did it echo in the beach- but not even that concern had a weight. you couldn’t tear your eyes away, he was a wonderful sight beyond all else. . Unmoving from your place, you watched until the man turned. A smile so charming bloomed on his veiled features. Sharp, unnatural serpent-like eyes. He turned to the ocean.. Walking into it until nothing of him was left.
You thought yourself a simple witness, but it was only the Ofuda hidden within your pocket that kept your feet from following behind.
Hinezumi-san. A name that sounded familiar to all ears. It’s said that he walks the shore every night, back and forth four times. His hair was down to his ankles, long and silky.. Eyes colored like the morning sun, sharp and wise. A serene smile that painted his lips. He had no use for pleasantries, nor did he entertain any conversations. Parents warded their children from the strange man. Isn’t the number four foul? Yet he walks it in peace. Something must be wrong with him. Humans are plagued by burdens and emotions, it is what makes a soul.
In no time, rumors spread. For what are those mortals capable of anyways but making stories from thin air? Stories of the man abandoning his family to pursue his nightly walks. His wife must be miserable, raising their children all alone. Does he have no job to attend to? Friends or family? Some say he was a man who traded his life for a demonic bargain. Some say that he was always walking until the sun rose.. One thing about him was clear. He was no mortal.
On the first walk, he hummed, and the sound bent around the moonlight. On the second, he sang, carrying sorrows deep from within. On the third, his hands rose in the air, tracing constellations no one could see, where his fingers went, a string of light followed faintly, as if nature itself sang with him. On the fourth, his feet carried him in a dance of his own. Weightless. His hair follows like a dark comet, leaving behind a trail of smoke and droplets of mist.
Until the whispers around him changed.
At first, he was only a man with no life or family. Now, they could swear they saw others walk beside him. Either next to him, or following closely behind. Humming, singing, waving, dancing. Their hands moved in jerks and spasms, their lips parted, yet no voice escaped, only his own that sang sounding in the air. Their feet seemed to sink into the sand with each wave, no matter how much they tried- they were nothing but a mere whisper to his grace. A forgettable breeze.
By morning, he was alone. Those who gazed too long into his eyes found their feet following along. Unwilling, imperfect. Step and step until the waves swallowed them whole. His story was never known- only the song he sang, carried on the shore winds .. waiting for another to hear.
✰ Write a quick event based on Japanese pop-up cafes/restaurants/stores (Promotional cafes based on media such as anime, gaming, spirits, etc.):
“ Gather around, gather around!! A once-in-a-lifetime experience, we’ve travelled far and wide to reach you people of Norowarejima Island! Welcome to tonight's show: The Soul Carnival “
An old clock placed high and mighty chimes three times. Its wood is old but steady, carvings of time decorating its surface. The first chime brings in the circus, colours bursting into life as the actors emerge from behind mist and smoke. They flaunt their skills high and low, jumping over you with ease and touching the stars of the night. Oh, look! One of them leans down, hands a child a flower. What a kind soul! Kids and teens alike looked as the foxes came into sight. They followed the jesters and leaped with pride as the circus came to life.
You can smell a distinct scent of food lingering in the air, soy and honey- maybe a sprinkle of chilli! Stalls lined the streets left and right. Wherever your eyes might land, there was a grin and a hand waving you closer, beckoning you to take samples! They all wore the freshest of garments, their stalls colored in joy and whimsy. Flags plastered across the banners, a telltale sign of the country this cuisine is from.
“ From all around the world, we bring you unique cuisine! “
said the head of the show, he wore all kinds of fabrics and textures, his eyes were alight with mischief as his grin split his face open! The old man with his cane knocked on the floor and CHIME- The third ring comes from the old clock, the speakers now coming to the show as they blast old songs that brightened the faces of parents and grandparents. Tales embedded within lyrics that you were once told. They sang Shintaro San of the mountains. The choir of women came forth, voices merging into a wonderful melody that sweetened your soul.
“ For each country we came, bringing you what the elden days held. Please, enjoy! For you might feel transported back in time. “
The old man laughed, his shoulders shaking with delight. With his cane, he tip-tapped the floor. You can swear he was transparent, for the colours shone just a touch too bright on him– but as such, he was gone within the crowds.
The soul carnival has come every year since you were young. Every time a different choir came to be, the same stalls and the head never seemed to grow old, yet their food was always fresh.
Rumours had it that all of those people who brought the carnival were lost souls, where they found purpose entertaining the living. Some say they have makeup on, a trick of artistry that they never seem to age. Every year you attended, the food simply grew more delicious. The shows are much more enticing, and when it leaves in the blink of an eye, the streets it occupied now empty overnight, it felt as though it had picked a part of your soul along with it.
✰ How would you write the atmosphere of the image provided below?
(Byakuyakoku Shinto Monastery)
“ Welcome to Byakuyakoku Shinto Monastery.. The kami welcome you with open arms. “
Powdered snow crunches softly beneath your feet as you step on pristine grounds.. The birds chirp just a little quieter, as though they knew their voices must be low in a place of peace. For deep within the mountain, Byakuyakoku’s Monastery lay. The trail to the peak is old, yet steady. Some planks are newer, some hold the time’s mark on them. Some bare carvings of names that were lost to history.. Though one stood out. Namagaski Chinu. What a curiosity..
The air’s fresher, clearer as it enters your lungs. Cool and serene, washing over your senses with a calm only found on these holy grounds. As you enter, heads peek from corners, smiles of maidens and priests alike as they welcome you to the Monastery. Despite the snow covering the mountain, you felt warm. For in this place, no harm exists.
A place that seemed untouched by human technology. Where worshippers of the kami bowed with each entry, their hands rising to the skies as whispers of their prayers rang in the quiet space. A lingering aroma of green tea surrounded you, oh so wonderful as soft steps approached you. A maiden smiles delightfully and hands you a hand-made cup, warm to the touch– green tea (ah, so this is where the smell came from!) swirling within. It’s said to be blessed by the kami; you might not believe it (or maybe you do?), but your mind ascended to a state of peace as you took those first few steps. It wasn’t strange, or unnatural- it felt truly right.
As the breeze runs through your hair, you gaze upon the nature around you. Lush greens, trees that grew tall- casting a shade upon you.. And right around the corner, hidden beneath the trees, there exists a small cabin. As you enter, a shrine stands tall. The incense is lit, yet no name is written. There’s evil that lingers in the air, something that causes your heart to race. You murmur a prayer, paying respect to the unnamed deceased soul- before a voice ushers you outside. Passing by, the scent of ash wafts in the air - you turn, eyes finding that small cabin before the cool sunlight washes your worry away.
You mourn over having to leave, but the maiden reminds you that the kami welcomes all here. Before you step out of the blessed grounds, a question comes to light; Who is Namagaski Chinu?. The only response was a mere shake of her head, before wishing the kami to keep you safe as you part ways.
✰ You have been tasked to write an in-lore influential character in the history of Norowarejima. Who and what would you create? Provide some insight on the character!
Namagaski Chinu.
As one enters the shrine, and if they’ve the weary eyes, they might notice a carving deep within the woods of the trail, a name that stood clearer than those who were lost. Now, asking a maiden won’t do. Their mouths are sealed from speaking such a name
~
Long ago, in the Edo period, the name of a family graced many tongues. A family, not known for its wealth or fortune– but for their kids, and hunger. You see, the Chinu family lived under the watchful eyes of the kami, in a small shrine monastery on the highest of mountains. Byakuyakoku Shinto Monastery.. A small, humble house of the kami. Within it, they lived on the offerings of passing hikers, villagers, and those who were kind enough to visit them. . Generations would pass, and with each passing year, the family grew. They’ve plenty of land on the mountains, harsh weather, yes- but the soil was blessed by the kami.
Ah, did you remember what we said? Yes, they are the family that started the shrine, but that is not what they were known for. They were known for hunger. A hunger that ran so deeply, it brought drought onto their lands. The winters grew harsher as the kami’s blessings were no longer enough. Visitors dwindled, offerings following the same path, and in no time, they were desperate. One after another, their children, servants of the kami, died. Hunger eating at their tiny bodies, as desperation turned to horror, turned to blasphemy.
Lady Meiru, you see, was growing desperate. Her labor was nearing; another child of hers is arriving soon— too soon. She had prayed endlessly to the Kami to bless them with fortune .. but what happens when her prayers are never answered? What happens when the good path is no longer enough? You’ve tried to be holy, to be clean and pure. You followed all the rules, all the teachings, but that hunger only grew. It gnawed at you; it gnawed at her newborn.
.. It was a dark, gloomy night.
Thunder clapped in the distance, the patter of the rain growing harsher against the dirt and soul. Sticks and leaves crunched beneath heavy feet, weighed down by the garments she wore. Lady Meiru’s lips tore in a plea, a cry that is said to have rivalled the strikes of lightning nearby. Clawing on the damp ground, she made an offering. An offering to a malevolent elder spirit that roamed those abandoned trails within the forest .. Tales say that she offered up her unborn child’s Jundo [純度 - Purity]. What is more enticing than such? A soul yet to be born, nothing to taint such a beautiful core but the sunken teeth of TAMASHI.
With a strike of lightning so mighty the grounds shook- Nagamaski was born. A Kanji scarred into his chest, a forever tell sign of the trade he never chose.
[不純 - IMPURE]
Namagaski was born with unnatural wit and charisma. A smile so charming it rendered any individual in awe. His eyes lacked any life, his chest lacked a heart- but he was the ‘purest’ of them all. With ‘fortune' that he was blessed with, the boy grew to be a light of hope. He excelled at the teachings of Shinto; the soil grew beneath his very feet as he walked. Truly, it was as if he were any human boy, touched by the kami and born in the path of righteousness and holiness.
His requests earned attention, rallying guards and villagers alike to help rebuild the shrine. What once was a run-down Monastery, now carved from the very mountains themselves, to the Shrine we now know and love.. The Chinu family grew fortunate. Their hunger ceased as every child grew healthy. Laughter and joy rang within the ‘holy’ grounds of the shrine. Visitors flooded in, worshippers from every land in Japan visiting Norowarejima Island.
But Tamashi was not pleased. He did not feast upon this child’s soul for him to follow the Kami. He did not grant him blessings to become holy.
And as such, rumors spread from thin air. The monks found their meditations uneasy; the nature around them groaned and moaned in distress. Pilgrims left the grounds troubled, in pain. Despite the decades put into its rise, in mere weeks, people were fleeing. The grounds were not peaceful; they were tainted. Pitchforks rose in the air as cries of Namagaski’s charm being a result of something much darker. Something Blasphemous and unholy.
The man did not know what he had done. For his entire life, he has been dedicated to the shrine, on those very grounds he grew and nurtured. Why is it that his own people rally against him? Months passed by, and offerings were dwindling again. As though time itself was shying from their gaze. His chest burnt by the scar he had been carrying since the day he was born. In no time, the skies grew dark. Thunder roared in the distance. Echoes of a terrible storm approaching.. But the villagers’ rage knew no bounds. They climbed the mountains, the weight of their feet carving the path. Stakes and fires rising in the sky.
The air grew tense, whirls of wind against the rally of people as they stacked the shrine full. The shrine’s bells clanged in terror of what it was to come. With each lightning that struck nearby, shouts rose. Anger, betrayal, and fear mingling in an ear-scorching crescendo. Namagaski’s voice rose higher; tales have it that it was louder than his mother’s cries on the night of his birth. Louder than the voices of his people.
Louder than the yokai’s laughter that echoed in his ears.
Some say time slowed. Enough for stray eyes to catch the light, the life that shone in the boy’s eyes for the first time. The kanji on his chest burnt brighter than the fires they carried. That his smile, full of nerve and fear, grew to resemble Tamashi’s grin. Droplets of rain freezing mid-air as a stray arrow found itself in his heart.
The same storm came to take him once more.
.. Some say his mother mourned for years to come. Carving his name into the bark of the trail with her very fingers before the kami took her.
[NAMAGASKI CHINU]
The false-blessed child
- The child that rebuilt the shrine despite the kanji carved onto his chest.
- He cemented his family’s name, tying it to the shrine for years and decades to come as their descendants continue to take care of it.
- His name must never be spoken on holy grounds. Despite his mother being the one who struck the deal out of desperation, she was not who bore the mark. As such, some began to refer to him by his mother’s name if he came up in a conversation.
- His tale became a warning, what is gained through false deals and short-cuts, leaves unexpectedly. What is closest to you, might bring the most misfortune. Rumors burn further than the fires he died in.
- Y’know, the good things kids need to learn…
[HOW CAN THE PLAYER ENGAGE WITH THIS STORY?]
- Via letters of servants who worked in the shrine. Scattered in hidden cabinets, or signs within the corners of the shrine.
- Carvings scattered around the shrine.
- Incense that was constantly lit in an unnamed grave.
- Gathering hints from local maidens or those who carry the Chinu name. The shrine does not speak of him with ease.
- Finding Tamashi, consequently, sacrificing something of their own.
- Old journals and scrolls that attempted to document his life. Maybe a certain thirty-years old journalist of the past named Nagasaki Itto. . mayhaps he mysteriously also disappeared. The maidens say the kami were not pleased with him. (We love utilizing our examples)
Whose TAMASHI from the story?
.. An elder spirit based off of the Mononoke, Kijo, Yamauba, and the Jibakurei. Figures in Japanese folklore that are associated with taking youth's purity or innocence. He is a malevolent spirit that has gone dormant due to the tragedy he caused, that ended up draining much of his spiritual energy.
He specifically uses youths’ purity, sanity, or straight up manipulating their emotions (rendering them husks for some while) as means to create “blessings” (AKA- tricking them further into giving him more), such as the fortune that the Chinu family got. and uses his own spiritual energy for disasters.
I do think about applying for him should I get accepted, or maybe downgrading him to a greater spirit at a later point in time. For this story, he has taken an unborn child’s purity. Something that did not get the chance to get tainted. Powerful enough to grant the Chinu family fortune. (Until he got pissed that the kid built a monastery instead and damned them with fire.)
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧.⋆☾⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚
Additional Notes:
Lullaby of Takeda [Takeda No Komoriuta], Japanese Folk Song - The Red Birds [Akai Tori]
A beautiful traditional Japanese folk song from the village of Takeda (Now, Fushimi Ward, Kyoto.) A sad story about a young girl from a very poor family who was sent to work in wealthy households in a nearby village while still an infant. During her difficult days of hard labor, often carrying a baby on her back, she longed for her home and family. Gazing towards the mountains. From her sorrows, It’s said that she sang this song. Hinezumi-San took this song and began singing it for days to come, basking in her sorrows.
Shintaro San of the mountain
A regional folk melody that (most likely) originated from the mountain communities in Japan. It captures the local culture and folklore through music rather than telling specific folklore stories. There’s no quiet tale of someone with the name Shintaro San of the mountains- Think of this song as a traditional balled rather than a song talking about that character.
I would love to extend thanks to @am_chronicallyinsane__, @zacizach, and @Neeryu for proofreading this for me. The credit to the idea of drawing the yokai is to @signorinaamore!! I asked and got permission to do the same. . last thing, all the art features in here is by myself ! <3.
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