Private Where Lanterns Hide the Blade

[Niijima Izumi]

The sun whispered its last breath in the form of a streak of orange and pink across Thule’s horizon, the amber glow slipping behind the towers and temples like a final breath before nightfall. Lanterns flickered to life one by one, swaying gently in the harbor breeze, their reflections shimmering across puddles left by the afternoon rain.

Niijima Izumi walked the winding streets in silence. Her black silk kimono, embroidered with crimson plum blossoms, caught the dim glow as if carrying the remnants of sunset upon its folds. Beneath the wide sash of her obi rested the weight of twin sword, hidden, yet never forgotten. Every step she took was balanced between grace and vigilance.

To the regular people of the world, she might have seemed no more than a performer returning from rehearsal; a geisha in red and black, her hair pinned elegantly, her face serene. But her hands, still raw from the day’s training, told another story.

Jark'ai did not look kindly upon women who bore the way of the sword. By day, she practiced in secret; discipline, breath, resolve. By night, she entertained nobles and travelers alike, her shamisen and sake cups as deft in her hands as her blades. The contrast had long ceased to trouble her; she had come to see both lives as mirrors of the same truth.

“Rectitude. Courage. Benevolence. Respect. Honesty. Honor. Loyalty.”

The seven pillars of the bushido code were her quiet prayer, her hidden armor. They were not bound to gender, nor to recognition. They lived within every choice she made; each cut of the blade, each word she spoke in delicate conversation.

As she reached the lantern-lit alley, the sounds of laughter and clinking cups pulled her from thought. The warmth of the izakaya, the only one in Thule that welcomed both travelers and wanderers alike, allowed her somewhat chilled body and heart some warmth.

She hesitated at the threshold. To enter was to become the geisha once more, the smiling face, the soft laughter, the melody on stage. Yet beneath the silk and the song, the swordswoman remained, unyielding, unseen, but ever present.

Niijima Izumi exhaled softly, smoothing the front of her kimono. “Even in stillness,” she thought, recalling her master’s words, “the blade must not sleep.”

With that, she stepped inside; the scent of sake and grilled fish meeting her like an old friend, the glow of paper lanterns catching the red blossoms at her hem as the door closed behind her.

TAG: Kurayami Bloodborn​

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

After the battle on Takodana, Kurayami found himself needing a place to lay low for a bit. Letting air traffic control know that he was en route to orbit, he obtained permission to land and decompress from a time. Today he donned no armor or helmet as he wandered the street, wearing only a pair of simple balck cargo slacks with first class Corellian bloodstripes displayed, a grey shirt, and worn black leather flight jacket bearing a faded emblem of 'Aquila' Squadron. If any even remembered the mercenary group he would be amazed, with how old they were. Holstered on either hip was a modified SE-44C heavy blaster pistol, and a lightsaber clipped behind the left holster, mostly out of sight.

Right now he was scanning the streets with his cybernetic eye, looking for a bar to stop in at and grab a drink. Sometimes it was a little difficult to ignore the sheer amount of data that was pouring through the implant. Thanks to the Holonet connection it was constantly updating the profile of every person scanned. Eventually it pinged a nearby bar with a hot spring. Okay, well he wasn't sure about making use of the hot spring, but good to know he supposed. Angling that direction he stepped up to the entryway.

Pausing as he reached the entry as a young woman was currently waiting to enter. Psyching herself up of some such. He glanced at her, giving her a quick once over as she disappeared over the threshold, following soon after. Of course there was the security checks which were always fun, but once he got the okay he stepped inside and headed to the bar taking a seat at the high-top. "Namana liquor. And keep 'em comin'." The request was short and to the point, but quickly filled, when a pint glass was slid over to him of the sweet liquid, which was quickly downed and slid back for a refill. The second was going to be sipped at much more slowly.

Now it was time to see what the people of Atrisia were like day to day.

Niijima Izumi

 

[Niijima Izumi]

One of the workers at the establishment ushered her to an empty corner table. The entire building was warm, with a small fire contributing to the warmth in one corner. Chatter between the patrons filled the room, giving the stark contrast between the quietness of the outside. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath as she adjusted to the chatter and activity. The waiter brought her a cup of hot tea, for which she accepted with a curt nod. Izumi whispered her order in a low breath. "A hot sake please..." her voice was low enough to go unnoticed above the hustle and bustle of those around her but loud enough for the waiter to hear her. The man nodded his head, bowing to her.

From where she was seated, her existence was somewhat hidden, allowing her to survey the entire room while going unnoticed. As her golden brown hues rested on the stranger who had apparently entered the place after her, Izumi couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Everything about the man caught her attention, some more outlandishly so than others. His appearance was definitely that which would see head's turn, and that was exactly what garnered as the others noticed him. Her eyes quietly surveyed him as he sat down, calling out his order. She imagined that he was at least some kind of warrior of sorts, if the weapons on him were not obvious sign enough. Izumi merely rested on him for a moment, before turning her attention to the waiter who now returned with a ceramic bowl of hot water. Inside the bowl of water, he placed a small bottle of sake, allowing almost half of the bottle to rest in the water.

This was the traditional way to serve hot sake. He placed a tiny candle like holster underneath the bowl, allowing consistent flame to keep the contents hot. It was her guilty pleasure, the perfect way for her to unwind.

Izumi nodded her head in appreciation, allowing him to pour her a small cup. A thin whisp of smoke presented itself from the cup, dispersing only inches from her face. The woman extended her hand, her fingers delicately wrapped around the porcelain. She loved hot sake, drinking it even on the hottest days. It provided her with comfort and warmth, where comfort and warmth were sought and not attained. Her lips touched the cup lightly, and in one smooth action, she threw her head back, allowing the contents of the cup to glide down her throat. The heat first reached the back of her throat, her body shuddering at the suddenness. As the liquid made its way to her stomach, she could feel the warmth light a flame from within.

She sighed happily, closing her eyes once more to allow the liquid to touch all her senses.

TAG: Kurayami Bloodborn​

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

He'd always had a good sense of when people were watching him, though tonight it was admittedly a bit harder to pick out a single person from the crowd. Kurayami had no doubt that a man who had literal glowing scars spiderwebbing across his shaved head that intertwined with innumerable other scars, two deep gouges over his one remaining organic eye, and an obvious cybernetic implant replacing the other eye...yeah, it draws attention and whispers of what happened. He couldn't help but smirk and chuckle slightly to himself as he noticed when people did stare a beat too long. Those were the ones who always looked away as if ashamed for being curious. Yet he didn't hold any animosity or anger towards those who had genuine curiosity.

One such person whom he took note of happened to be the young woman whom had been paused in front of him when he got to the door. From where she was seated he took it that she was a regular or perhaps that was a reserved table. He noted a hint of something that felt different about her. Force potential perhaps? In closely crowded places it could be hard to tell, even for senses as well honed as his own. But it was something he contemplated as he took a sip of his drink, turning his gaze more fully towards where she sat. Waving over the bartender he asked simply, "Tell me what you know of the woman in that booth there." His tone was low enough so as to be kept between just the two of them when the answer came from the barkeep. "I know she is a regular and sits there often sir. I know nothing more of her." "Of course. I don't need a name, but anything else?" "She keeps mostly to herself." Clearly, the barkeep either knew more and was keeping the information close to the chest, or simply was unaware. Kurayami slid a low value cred chip across the bar and stood, making his way over to the young woman's table.

"Evening miss, if this seat isn't take, I'd like to talk to you. Noticed you were one of the many who seemed...how do I put this...interested in, confused by....or any one of a thousand other descriptors by my physical appearance. I'd rather not talk about that whole incident, but if you really want to know I can give you a short version I suppose." He flashed a quick grin extending his hand. "Name's Kurayami Bloodborn by the way."

Niijima Izumi

 

[Niijima Izumi]

For the brief moment before the sake settled in her system, she had been lost in her own world, one filled with the pungent scent of fermented rice and alcohol, and it was a moment of pure bliss. To call her an alcoholic was perhaps too strong of a descriptor, for she enjoyed her drinks but not to the extent where enjoyment crossed the line to habit. In fact, she had made it a point for it not to, for her father's teachings would always ring in her ears. It was not in the samurai code to allow indulgence to take over one's senses after all. She opened her eyes, allowing the light of her surroundings to snap her back to reality, putting her now empty cup down on the table once more.

Before she could pour herself another cup though, the man she had been quietly observing was making his way towards her with his cup in hand. Had she been too obvious in her staring? This couldn't be the case, she mused, seeing as Izumi prided herself in being discreet. It was the way of the samurai, the ability to be discreet. As the man approached her, he had asked if he could take the seat opposite her. She merely nodded her head, gesturing with her arm that the seat was indeed open for him to take. His words would then make her blush, a hint of pink danced across her otherwise pale face. She had failed to be discreet after all.

Clearing her throat, she bought herself some time before replying, thinking of the best way to approach a rather confrontational first encounter. "I apologize if my gaze came off rude or direct, for I didn't mean for it to be..." her voice was again a low whisper, melodic and pitch but lacking in decibel. "Izumi...Niijima Izumi," she continued, bowing her head as she introduced herself. The stranger had said his name was Kurayami, an interesting name that hinted of Jark'ai origin, at least from the sounds of it. But she wasn't much of a world traveler, at least not by her own will, and from the way he dressed and carried himself, he was definitely a foreigner to these parts.

Perhaps he hailed from a nearby land?

Even as a geisha she never really traveled outside of Jark'ai There were times her services would be requested by foreign diplomats but all within the land of Jark'ai She would love to travel the world, to see sights and take in cultures unknown to her. A few minutes would pass before she spoke again, realizing she had rudely dismissed the important parts of Kurayami's words. "If you wouldn't mind, I would love to know..." her face and voice didn't reflect this interest at all. In fact, she was a stoic woman, one with few expressions. It was how she maneuvered the world, for then people wouldn't be able to tell how she thought and felt. "...only if you're comfortable, of course."

TAG: Kurayami Bloodborn​

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

In the case of Kurayami, calling him an alcoholic, it would have been a kindness to call him an alcoholic. It was something that he did try to keep on the downlow when meeting new people for the first time if only for preserving some sense of propriety. What little he could at least. To him the fact the woman was surprised that he had managed to notcie her staring was rather entertaining in and of itself. Mostly because she had not been too overt in watching him. If anything, most would have written it off, especially looking as he did by now. He knew the ethereal green gaze was unsettling to many, especially when even the organic eye had been corrupted, so to speak.

Her nod coupled with the simple gesture made it clear that she was open to his company. For now at least. The slight blush brought a slightly furrowed brow from the Corellian, wondering why she would have been embarrassed...perhaps having been seen? As he sat, he made sure that his posture was attentive, but relaxed, as though speaking with an old friend, not someone he just met. Tilting his head he waited for her to speak, studying her reactions, a small smile on his lips. "Not at all. I understand the curiosity, though I admit. I am confused by the need to keep one's distance. Do I truly come off as that unapproachable Izumi? Or should I call you Niijima? Or is there another name you prefer? I admit I am not the best in social situations." He shook his head, chuckling slightly as he leaned back an took another sip of his drink.

For a few minutes they sat and drank in silence, which entertained him greatly. She suddenly caught on to the fact that she hadn't answered his last question yet. She suddenly spoke again affirming that she did indeed wish to hear the story of how he came to look as he did. He leaned forward as if entrusting her with a great secret. "So long story short....a splinter faction of Sith went and built another Death Star. Creatively named it Death Star III, because why not repeat history? So they go to the Deep Core to do some rituals to mess with all sorts of stuff. Want to wipe Atrisia of life to fuel this massive ritual that will reach out and touch many faction in all sorts bad ways, like breaking more holes in the Blackwall of the overarching Sith Order based out of Jutrand." He paused and took a swig of his drink.

"So anyway, the faction I have been helping out mostly, the Imperial Commonwealth of Dosuun, they have an idea to get back a bunch of planets they controlled in the Maw. I go in as an escort for the reinforcements we are required to provide to the Sith, oversee integration all that fun and mind numbingly boring bureaucratic bullshit. Stars off alright until some hotshot Sith squad decides to interrupt our demonstration flight. Get in a dogfight with the four of them. Vape two, let two run. Have to fill out paperwork for the governor. After turning in the paperwork I was out on the landing pad heading back to my ship, stopped and looked up before getting thrown across the pad by an explosion. After that everything is a blur. Found the Governor had hired an assassin who missed his mark by a couple feet, a quick Force barrier saved myself and the Governor from a sonic charge planted nearby. Cost me my eye due to shrapnel. Got to watch the whole process of the implanting and creation from the Netherworld. Kinda cool really. Next thing I knew I woke up. Finished up what needed to be done on Takodana. Came here to relax."

He leaned back in his chair again a relaxed smirk on his face as he downed the rest of his drink and pulled out a worn flask from his flight jacket, taking a swig from it as well.

Niijima Izumi

 

[Niijima Izumi]

"Izumi is fine.." she whispered yet again, watching as the man sat down opposite from her. Her hand reached for the napkin on the table, wrapping it carefully around the handle of the sake bottle as not to burn her fingers and hand. She poured herself another drink in her cup, flickering her eyes from the bottle to her new company and back again.

To say that he was unapproachable was perhaps an overstatement. Izumi had been around a variety of people in her life, being an entertainer and performer by profession had taught her to never judge someone by their appearance. However, it was not often that she found herself face-to-face with a man with visible scarring as Kurayami, coupled with that eye...she mused. The woman didn't allow this to show on her face, though she guessed that he wouldn't be surprised if she did show a little bit of surprise. She merely listened to what he had to say, placing the bottle back into the hot water basin to allow the remaining contents to simmer under the flame of the candle.

Not much of what he said made sense to her, truth be told. Izumi had been a samurai for most of her life, merely joining the Mandalorian Empire because it was safest route for her. She knew that there were people who lived in different areas of the world who had their own missions and objectives to achieve. For her though, she wanted to find solace; solace in a place where everywhere she turned it seemed to be breed turmoil. Izumi listened and tried to follow as closely as possible, allowing a soft smile to dance across her lips at the delivery and word choice of this stranger and new drink companion.

She wasn't sure if it was because his story had too many components or that the components seemed to have no ties to one another. But she found it extremely hard to follow the man's train of thought. Instead she listened quietly, taking in as much as possible. When he seemed to have finished speaking and started drinking from his flask, Izumi again found herself looking for the right words. "I admit that I have no idea what it is you spoke of for most of that..." she glanced at him apologetically. "I gather you are a fighter, and a good one at that...." she whispered, taking a sip from her own cup while she mulled over her words. "I have never left Jark'ai, and have no real bearings outside this place..." she felt somewhat embarrassed again, since Kurayami seemed to be such a world traveler.

TAG: Kurayami Bloodborn​

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

"Izumi it is then." His stone carrying not command, but decision that, if she was fine with it he seemed placated. He took note of her quiet delivery when she spoke, and gentle demeanor. At least outwardly, there was something in her presence, her posture that spoke to a deeper training. Not necessarily in the Force, but highly disciplined nonetheless. She listened closely to him it seemed which was nice, especially within the chaos of the galaxy right now.

He sipped from the flask again as she poured another glass of her hot sake, each motion steeped in practiced tradition it seemed. He nodded in appreciation at her words, smiling softly at them. "I see. To be fair to many in the galaxy politics are confusing. And you can count me among those who is greatly confused by them. I prefer to stay out of them when possible. My loyalties are to people, not empires or governments. I find that people are more stable than either of the latter in general. Terrifying thought." He shook his head, a moment. When she mentioned him being a fighter, he met her gaze again nodding slowly. "Indeed. One who has fought countless battles on many worlds and for many different governments. Yet there are few who can command my full respect. Those who do, find me a powerful ally and one who will stop at nothing to protect those whom I call 'friend' or 'family.' I do not take great pride in that fact though, I fight only when needed."

He sighed taking a long swig of his drink. "In some ways I envy you. And yet I would be bored out of my skull if I had never left Coronet City with 'Aquila' Squadron back in the day. Too adventurous. Lots of time bouncing around the galaxy as a merc. After that spent even more learning about the Force as part of a promise to my late fiancé but that was a long, long time ago. Though outings to find relics or other means to learn about other cultures are always quite interesting." He took another long swig of his flask. "Enough about me though, Izumi, tell me about yourself. What Atrisia is like, as this is my first visit, and what you do." While some would see his switching of topics to be blunt and without any grace, he was intentionally trying to see how she would react to such a personal request for information after asking merely about the planet itself.

Niijima Izumi

 

[Niijima Izumi]

Izumi listened intently, her eyes never quite left the stranger's face while she watched him take another drink from his flask. There was something about him that was...different from the people here in Jark'ai. Of course, she knew from the basic appearance of the man that he wasn't one of them...but there was something else, something she couldn't really put a a finger on. Instead of dwelling on the matter though, the woman simply continued to keep quiet, sipping on her third cup of sake. The candle flickered dimly under the basin, the water wrapping around the sake bottle still emitting a stream of light smoke.

A server came by, checking the contents of the sake bottle. Without saying a word, she made eye contact with him, using her eyes to communicate what her voice wouldn't. Understanding the assignment, the man nodded his head dutifully, taking the now empty sake bottle out of the warm water with a cloth and retreated from the table. Before he left though, he would shoot Kurayami with a look, his eyes fixated on the flask he was holding. Was he not aware that he wasn't allowed to bring drinks into the establishment? And yet the man chose not to raise a fuss, taking one look at Kurayami told him that the other man was not someone he wanted to ever mess with. Bowing his head, he went to retrieve another bottle of sake for Izumi, avoiding all eye contact with the stranger.

When Kurayami spoke of him being loyal to the people, especially those he called friends and family made her freeze. She was the same way, the way of the samurai taught her to be loyal to those who were worth fighting for. However, unlike him, Izumi was bout by honour and respect which extended to those she served under. This was perhaps why she had stayed away from politics for this long, instead living the life of a traveler and performer. Why she had joined the Mandalorian was still a mystery to her, since she knew not much, if not anything, about it. "I see...I too protect those who mean a lot to me..." she whispered, setting her empty cup on the table, her eyes flickering from Kurayami's person to the dancing candle. "I just don't know if I have those anymore..." this last part came out in even lower of a whisper, almost inaudible.

She didn't allow people to see into her sorrows often. In fact, she had been taught at a young age not to, for emotions were a sign of weakness, and anyone who saw through her would mean that they could manipulate. Izumi took a deep breath, her eyes not meeting her drinking companion for a long while. She thought of her father, of her family and of the samurai she had trained with when she was young. None of those were what they had been, and all she had were memories, memories she'd rather not let someone who she barely know into. While she stared blankly at the candle, Kurayami would continue to speak of his adventures, drawing her out of the daze only when she heard her name mentioned.

He had asked about Atrisia, and what it was like.

She considered for a moment, her gaze finally wandering back to the man's face as she chose her words carefully. "I do not know much about this land, even though I grew up here..." she admittedly rather embarrassingly. It was true; her days had been spent at a samurai school owned by her father for most of her childhood and then at an okiya, or a geisha training house, when she lost her family. There wasn't much of exploring or anything that she could do while she juggled such predicaments. "Perhaps it's better to ask...what is it that you want to know?" The waiter returned then, placing another bottle of sake into the hot water basin.

TAG: Kurayami Bloodborn​

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[Kurayami Bloodborn]

How could she help but constantly size up someone who was not only clearly a foreigner but also touched by both the Force and the Netherworld? Especially after the fact that a Sith fleet with a space station the size of a small moon had just tried to annihilate the planet recently, it was not surprising to him in the least. She was quiet and reserved any judgements she had about him as she sipped at her glass of sake. He took another sip from his flask returning her gaze, quietly and evenly. Amusement was obvious in his one good eye.

Soon they were approached by a server who came to check on Izumi's sake. The glance between her and the server said all that needed to be as he removed the bottle from the towel that had formerly helped to keep it at a pleasant temperature for consumption. As the server turned to leave, he shot Kurayami a look that the Corellian caught for only a split second, but still saw long enough to get the point. He quickly capped his flask and placed it back in his flight jacket. "Ah damn! Sorry. I'm used to dive bars out on the back end of hyperlanes where they know that the starship fuel they got on tap is safer than the water, but it's still a health hazard to drink. Sometime's its literally starship fuel with some additives to not kill you the second you drink it. So yea, those places know people are going to bring their own swill. Granted they tend to make money through less legal means like illegal gambling and podracing. Excuse me one sec." Standing up, he made his way a short distance from the table and whistled to draw attention to himself. If that didn't do it the next words certainly would. "Next round of food and drinks are on me! Anything on the menu! Enjoy!" Returning to his seat across from Izumi he sat back down as the confident smirk reappeared. "That should help with the faux pas for the moment."

When he spoke of loyalty and fighting for his found family and friends she went immobile. Recognition of similarity in someone else. Some one you would never expect it from especially. He knew it well having done the same plenty of times. His loyalty, respect, and sense of honor extended only to individuals and not overarching governments. Those who knew him well had long ago accepted this as far as he knew. "When I was away from my homeworld it was split in two. My family was lost. Aquila Squadron became even more like family afterwards, as that had been their home as well. In the intervening decades I would end up fighting on the other side of some of them after the squadron disbanded. Others were lost to...other circumstances." He shook his head. "Time helps heal some wounds. Others still feel as though they are voids at times. And if you feel that you have no one like that Izumi, the do what you can to find those connections. Treasure them above anything else in the galaxy. Credits are fleeting. Close companions are the most valuable thing you can ever hope to find."

"I am happy to learn anything I can as an outsider. About the planet, the culture, the people. Anything you wish to tell me."

Niijima Izumi