mryorozuya-blog

[mryorozuya-blog]

Gintoki hovered over a stall mulling over the display back and forth. His existence relied on sugar―this being a low intake day for him―his Sunday Sundae plans ended in disappointment with long lines and even annoying flavors. Why was avocado in everything these days? This left an aching in his mind, body, and soul. Gin sucked his teeth to keep his drool from leaking over the packaged baked goods before him. 

He’d been there at least ten minutes now, examining each and every goodie with the honed sweet sensors he’d developed over the years. It was an unappreciated talent by his friends who tried cutting him back, overthinking his high blood sugar like it was a health hazard. He wasn’t dead yet. So today, like many days, would be a cheat day for the walking sweet-tooth.

“Excuse meee,” he trailed off, finally looking up at the stand owner for probably the first time since he’d arrived. “What’s your best pastry―actually, you know what? Scratch that, I’ll take everything that’s made with strawberries.”

@bashfullygreen

[mryorozuya-blog]

⸻ updated gin's stats with places he frequents for helpful planning!

[mryorozuya-blog]

⸻  starter call !

i disappeared a while bc personal stuff so i wanna get gin some fresh blood. still no icons bc i've just been re-reading and getting raws for later... i'm 77/700+, lmao. feel free to like this post for a mini starter with the asshole himself. no cap yet but i’m slow and stwessed but loving and interested. 

my IMs are also open for more structured plotting or questions!

[mryorozuya-blog]

bulletcouture·:

None impressed with such a tacky and most tactless display she swings a hip around, hand perching just against the defined curve where fingers tap almost expectantly. How quaint. She had indeed heard whispers and of course the word of those much wiser than some grand scheme never once failed. The little shop of would be unknown warding horrors nestled in quite nicely although the timing was rather poor and in all indecency, presentation gaudy at tasteless best.

Once he’s finished his little speel she’s suddenly decided that’s quite enough of that, ugh! Talkative types, so boring. A flutter of lashes ensues followed by an ever amused curve of lips around the succulent treat just between them before withdrawing it and pointing towards this ‘sage’ accusingly.

“Is that so? Unfortunately, the shadow I cast is unseen by any untrained eye.. that is, of course, unless you just so happen to be another long lost sister of mine.”

Ah, last she checked the Umbra remained an all female sect unless somehow in death they succumbed to the wickedness of breaking their own commandments. Utterly impossible. Which leaves this boy to be either a stalker or piss poor liar; neither of which were attractive by any means. At the show of mere lookalike trinkets he dares offer she slams a well placed heel down at the center of his little cardboard table and leans dangerously close.

“Well now, I daresay these are fake. Attempting to woo me with lies? That’s no way to approach a lady. Didn’t your mum teach you better? Oh… in case you haven’t figured it out yet I’m a witch, love. There’s not a price in this world or the next you can buy me for. Why don’t you shut down your little shop and aim to work on your class instead?”

Without a doubt, Gintoki could find himself smitten by the voluptuous woman before him. Her smile bewitching to the scoundrel. She wasn’t amused by his charade and in a matter of seconds, Gin feared he’d messed with the wrong b―witch. “Sister? I would say I’d be honored but the rod between my legs says otherwise…” He timidly laughed, his voice an octave higher. The slam of her heel knocked the phony orb off the table with a fitting shatter. “Hey… hey!” He wanted to demand payment for the dent in his impressive table and broken crystal ball but her advance made him immediately recoil.

“W―what, these are genuine heirlooms I’ll have you know, my great-great-great-great-great grandfather was a legendary wizard, does the name Merlin mean anything to you?” His silver tongue was turning into copper, possibly even rust. Gintoki removed the hood to face this said magical woman face-to-face, a grimacing smirk, beads of sweat forming on his brow. “I might not have met a fellow witch before but I won’t forget this.” 

How intimidating. 

“But, if you are as magical as you claim, there’s no reason we can’t come to a compromise, maybe even a proposition.” He stood to meet her eye to eye, no one respects a man cowering on the ground. “There’s no reason two magic users can’t come together and make some bread on some other clowns right?”  

[mryorozuya-blog]

bienaimee‌:

★★　　this guy was a lot of talk– and that coming from a guy who was also a lot of talk. he was like a caricature of a skeezball dude, so intensely so that sylvain had to wonder just how serious any of it was, and how much was aimless bloviating to save his empty pride. it didn’t matter, though, sylvain could put up with any number of insults on himself, he was used to it and probably deserved most of them. it was the rest of the talk that got under his skin.

perching himself next to the man with his back to the cell bars, he crossed his arms and glared down his cellmate. “that’s the kind of talk that gets your lights knocked out, for good reason. and if you’re that eager for it, i’m happy to provide! but for the record, her name is suzie, and she’s a nurse. loves poetry. real sweet girl. maybe that attention to detail is why your friend at the bar chose to ditch you! i don’t steal girls, i’m nice to them.” and if they interpreted that as a date without him saying it, and then got jealous, that was their own problem.

“but maybe you already knew that. maybe you’re so sickened by your own failures that you have to reduce your problems down to holes being taken from you.” he could see the guard in the corner of his eye starting to pay attention as his tone got more intense, a second round of fighting seconds from breaking out, but frankly he didn’t care. ( maybe he could give this place the slip if things got hectic, he was sober now, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. ) “try pretending to give a shit about anyone but yourself and see what happens, it won’t get your rancid personality a date but you might find some fulfillment along the way.”

This guy could sure talk some shit, considering he had no parents, literally no one should be scolding him this much. Gintoki listens to him bitch with dead fish eyes, his default state but lit with annoyance. Love this, romance that, he didn’t fucking care. Did he not realize some people just want to have a good time and not care about the consequences? “It’s called flirting, but you’re so chivalrous I bet you think good guys deserve every woman they save.” This white knight was ruining his buzz big time.

Gintoki took a long breath, long and throaty. “You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m truly scum, a gross pervert only interested in how far two ― or more ― people can go.” He peeled himself off the cell badges, facing the exasperating individual he had the displeasure of sharing a cell with and the observing officer. “But you wanna know something?” A devious grin spread across his face with haste. 

“I! HAVE! FUCKING! SHOES!” Lightspeed he kicked his leg up to stomp on his bare foot with punctuation. The distraction left him the opportunity to fire a haymaker at the guy’s ugly mug with all the bottled anger he’d gathered from the night. “I’m a really nice guy too but I don’t put up with self-righteous assholes trying to school me!”

[mryorozuya-blog]

hi i’m dumdum and been busy with rl stuff and bad vibes

swear i’mma try getting posts back out after gw in gbf,

might also do a new starter call now that event is over!

[mryorozuya-blog]

Gintoki twirled the pink magical girl themed blade he’d been given after coming to this place. Somehow, it was more insulting than the sword ban the Amanto — the aliens that had infested his universe — had set forth to make him carry a wooden sword in the first place. The toy glew with flashing pink lights and made sparkling ‘kira kira’ sound effects. He would never be able to call himself a samurai again. He slung his head as he sat on the park bench manspreading his sadness out to the world. “My legs are too hairy to be a sailor scout… IS THIS FUNNY TO YOU? DO YOU ENJOY LAUGHING AT A MIDDLE-AGED MAN PLAYING WITH KID’S TOY IN PUBLIC, AM I ENTERTAINING YOU?! DO I LOOK LIKE AN OTAKU AT COMIKET?!”

His anger launched him onto his feet to shake the plastic blade at the heavens hoping whatever rulers of this domain would give him a sign of acknowledging his frustration. He tried tossing the dumb toy into some brushes but his fingers wouldn’t let go of the winged handle. He was having a public breakdown. There he went fetal on the pavement as fellow civilians tried their best to avoid the madman. A thought clicked through to the perm-headed bastard: maybe this just wasn’t a real world. 

Yeah, yeah… this couldn’t possibly be real—fantasy, what was that anime genre becoming popular? Isekai? Yeah, that’s what this was right, another world. RPGs were all about the slaying, getting loot, wasting your life. That’s all this could be, so it was time to get started on his murder hobo ways. First was finding a mob his relevant level or weaker—almost on queue he spotted a kid in a school uniform, that would be easy prey for a grown man. Almost insultingly, the kid seemed to be carrying a wooden sword, maybe not a bokuto but it would do. 

“Heeeey,” Gintoki crawled over to the kid a la the grudge. “It’s against school policy to carry a weapon, you should hand it over, I promise I won’t tell your homeroom teacher!” He lunged with the toy in arm attempting to be threatening in his assault.

@boundlesshsentity​

[mryorozuya-blog]

“Shoo, shoo! Ginchan isn’t a charity you already got your fill!” Normally he wasn’t one to feed the wildlife but a lonely chord struck him this evening to pinch off his piece of fried chicken at the mewling kitten now following him around. The thing pissed him off with its scruffy white coat and beady little devil eyes trying to hypnotize him into showing it attention. To the point of continually prancing in front of him and laying down in his path exposing it’s little soft tummy for the last block, over and over, he could feel he wasn’t going to last long to its enticement. 

“Listen here! Ginchan is also a stray, living on the wildside, but he doesn’t ask for handouts! He lives on his own and feeds himself, be independent!” The cat simply meowed in response, rubbing furiously against his boot. Gintoki scowled. Scanning his surroundings of the edge of the local park he spotted a purple hoodie-wearing loaf one of the benches. He looked unkempt, probably covered in filth from never leaving his mother’s house, easily gullible. “Listen here Koneko-chan, I’m a nice guy so I’ll help you just this once.”

Gintoki sat down on the opposite end of the bench, looking like the dictionary definition of inconspicuous. In a swift moment, he scooted closer, like knees rubbing close. “...Hey, I got some of that stuff.” Out from his kimono, he pulled out a fast food box, one that formerly contained his chicken but now wiggled with something livelier. “Come on kid, it’s good, that good shit. You can’t find it anywhere else, I’ll even give you a free taste, come on.” He forcibly nudged the box into this guy’s arms.

@fourthsaken​ 

[mryorozuya-blog]

[mryorozuya-blog]

The sounds were deafening. Metallic balls went round and round. Following twists and turns — flashing lights — and swirling down the drain they went. “Ha...haha,” modest tears of failure streamed down Gin’s jaw but still he couldn’t help but smile at the futility of it all. “My hand,” coiled around the knob that would refuse to turn without another cash insertion, “no matter what, my hand just won’t stop turning.” He would never learn his lesson, pachinko would be his ill-fated mistress of temptation until the day he croaked.

Albeit his dismay, the man right of him who he hadn’t noticed until this very moment of bright lights and sirens, three rainbow 7s aligned on his screen. The mystical Jackpot spewed hundreds of the pellets into his bucket — almost too much. Clearly, Gin’s new best friend wouldn’t need that much, too much for one man to bear. “Oi, oi, jackpot huh? Aren’t you lucky huh?” Gin leaned over into the young man’s personal space, “you know, it’s just good jackpot courtesy to share your luck with your neighbors to keep the Angel of Misfortune from slashing out your luck…” His fingers rubbed together in the universal sign for moolah, expecting a handout.

@matsuuno​

[mryorozuya-blog]

⸻  starter call !

i literally app’d gin and went on vacation so i don’t have much done for him in the ways of fancy icons and etc, but i just wanna write! feel free to like this post for a mini starter with the asshole himself. no cap yet but i’m slow and still getting settled, fair warning. 

my IMs are also open for more structured plotting or questions!

[mryorozuya-blog]

bienaimee·:

★★it was a lucky thing felix was naturally skilled in brawling, and luckier still that he had forcibly entrusted some of that expertise to sylvain by pulling it out in their training whenever sylvain got too comfortable. the brutal efficiency he was used to seeing in felix had served him well against his far less efficient ( though still passionate ) drunken opponent.

the exact details of why the fight had started were… muddled, but sylvain wasn’t one to fight just to fight! when a harmless young lady shrieks, any good person jumps at the chance to stop whatever’s frightened her! if it weren’t for sylvain’s own somewhat intoxicated state, he might have realized without her help that the man she’d just left the company of was exposing himself– and worse.

sylvain’s own injuries from the brawl were varied but manageable, at worst he might have a mild limp for a few hours from a good hit to the knee. bruises and scrapes escaped his notice after so much time training for and fighting in a war. the real injury was to his wallet… he scowled down at the useless sack on the ground. what the hell was a popeidel, anyway? “somehow i doubt you pay your taxes, but if you have that much to complain about, you can buy me a new pair of shoes with that money instead.” his left foot bore only a sock, the soiled shoe having been tossed at his opponent around the end of the scuffle ( honestly, if it weren’t for that last punctuation of violence, sylvain probably could have talked his way out of this jail stay ).

with a scoff, he complained idly, “man, i’ve got a date in less than an hour, i can’t stay here with an old man who strips when he wants attention. it could’ve been love!”

Here we go, the pretty boy was flapping his lips and Gin was hating the sounds that came out. “Kiss my ass, Fabio, why don’t you go suckle up to some old spinster and get her to buy you whatever you want, playboy.” Just like a redhead to ruin everyone’s time, reminded him of his own little brat back home, or wherever the hell Kagura might be now. “Only an entitled idiot throws his only shoe, you should have worn it as a badge of honor — finally the scent of an alpha male to make you seem big and strong!” Gin had no sympathy for ginger and his shitty European penny-loafers, probably his grandpap’s shoes he was wearing for that vintage look the kids called cool. They were begging to be ruined.

Hearing about the young blood’s would-be romance caused Gin — almost too violently — to rock forward off the floor and stare at him and his impudence. “HA! Only boys with no hair and highschoolers talk about ‘true love’. I bet you don’t even remember a single thing about her but her cup size. Yet here you are, getting us in jail because you couldn’t keep it in your own pants and had to ruin my time because one girl isn’t enough for you, pig!” He was almost verbatim recalling the insults one of the girls had hurled at either of them, it was hard to decipher in combat.

Gin wobbled to his feet, stumbling quite a bit, before leaning out the cell bars. The cool metal felt nice on his migraine. “Poor Ginchan can’t catch a break; first I end up in this weird-ass town and now all my money’s down the drain because some horny kid had to ruin my date.” He groaned to no one in particular but this asshole was gonna have to listen to all of it. “You think I didn’t wanna squeak it through some holes? That poor Ginchan didn’t wanna have some fun tonight? Six,” he held up five fingers but quickly corrected himself, “SIX holes — maybe nine if I was lucky, they’re pretty loose lookin’. I was gonna be a king but you had to ruin it with your purple prose and silky hair… and you wanna talk about love. Grow up, Pedro! This is your wakeup call if you keep chasing tail! You’re gonna be in the pokey with some muscular gorilla named N. Bison with hair down his ass who’s gonna show you the meaning of love!”

[mryorozuya-blog]

“Ojou-saaan, do you know your life is in danger,” his tone solemn and serious to the miss passing him by. Gintoki had taken to another scheme, spending most of the day sitting on the curb of the famed Golden Dawn Resort, he sat behind a crude stand made with orange boxes and a felt purple cloth covering the table. In the middle, a stereotypical crystal ball. Gintoki almost felt himself blessed to have been located in the Golden Ward, a place of luxurious bliss, glitz, and glamour. The problem, however, remained to be, the fancier the more expensive the price tag, and with gambling and gourmet sweets on just about every corner, Gintoki was back to his default state of poor.

His plan was simple, no matter how rich, no matter what lifestyle, people tend to be weak for any aid in learning more about the known unknown. People would pay any price for fake spirituality as long as it was believable. “You walk with such confidence, clearly you know the strength of your… assets, but there’s a shadow hanging behind you ma’am, one you can’t escape, mm, yes,” he brushed his hands over the orb before him in hypnotizing circles, electricity sparking out of the now dark clouds filling the orb, “you’ve done some horrible things, maybe too horrible to speak of, but it isn’t too late for you, miss.” 

He withdrew his hands into the hooded robe he wore — more mysterious that way — pulling something palmed from his sleeve to the tabletop. Extending his arm and slowly opening his fist, exposed a crudely sewn charm with embroidered text from a questionable language. Presumably not real but definitely archaic in appearance. “Carry this charm with you always, when you go out, to bed, to shower, especially to shower, and it will protect you from harm… mostly,” at this time he extends his other palm, fanning out talismans, “with the help of these talismans you can be completely and utterly protected, they work in unison with the power of elder gods. Just place them all over your home to erect a barrier of protection.”

“Normally this would cost an astronomical price, maybe too much for you… but for you, my friend, just a small fee of 30,000.”

@bulletcouture​

[mryorozuya-blog]

A bad taste lingered in Gin’s mouth — a mixture of cheap booze and even cheaper food. Let it be known bar food is no replacement for real home-cooked food especially if anything contains the phrase “bottomless.” The evening was more or less a blur, made a little fast change and spent it all on liquor and three girls named Tequila, Chardonnay, and Champagne who didn’t even smell sweet. All pretty women should. But now he felt like a slug being salted underneath all these bright lights and white walls.

What did sting, however, was the swelling in his jaw and bruising in his ribs as well as the broken skin on his knuckles that throbbed and pulsated like a traffic jam in summer. He could recall who he fought, no real reason… okay maybe because he pissed on the guy’s shoe but that’s no reason to forget all manners. Maybe if he didn’t look and act like walking garbage in the shape of a human being he wouldn’t have thought he was in an alley with trash. It was definitely over a girl, without a doubt, women refuse to be loyal when it’s money versus good looks. (Did that make Gin the sugardaddy and not the hot young stud in this case? He’s not that old looking, is he? Dead fish eyes and silver hair aside.)

Regardless, he was now on the floor of a holding cell with an oncoming hangover and the night wasn’t even over. Especially not that he’d been arrested and placed in the same cell as the pretty boy that ruined his good time. “Oooooooi,” Gin bellowed out with child-like neediness, “if I can’t get any water can you at least move me away from this pop idol. He reeks of shea butter and too much cologne; I want to file personal assault charges!” The lone jailer just continued to ignore him, watching something on a small handheld television instead of doing any work. “And this is what my tax dollars pay for…”

@bienaimee​ 

[mryorozuya-blog]

⸻  starter call !

i literally app'd gin and went on vacation so i don't have much done for him in the ways of fancy icons and etc, but i just wanna write! feel free to like this post for a mini starter with the asshole himself. no cap yet but i'm slow and still getting settled, fair warning. 

my IMs are also open for more structured plotting or questions!

[mryorozuya-blog]

acting on prior reserve, gintoki sakata from gintama here! libra, likes cold strawberry milk after a warm bath, only wipes front to back, app can be found under /app, third strawberry is the menu button

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Gintoki!

You will be housed in APARTMENT 304.

You’ll be given a plastic sword.

– mod altair.