nishidawho-blog - Tumblr blog

[nishidawho-blog]

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[nishidawho-blog]

[[ ........ I just finished Yakuza Kiwami 2, and I TEARED UP SEVERAL TIMES DURING THOSE LAST FEW CUTSCENES.  RYUJI AND KAORU, MAN.  I HAVE A BIG BROTHER, SO THEIR SCENES HIT ME H A R D.  And even though I knew they weren’t gonna die, that scene with Kiryu and Kaoru holding each other as the bomb counted down...!  

AND DID I MENTION RYUJI AND KAORU.  “There’s... that smile.”  -sobs and throws a chair into the wall-  

ugh I’m a mess, I don’t even know what to do with myself right now xDD  why do these games have to hurt me so much, it’s been like this with every one so far.

[nishidawho-blog]

New Kashiwagi Osamu rp blog looking for writing partners!

[nishidawho-blog]

mewgagotoku:

Yowling and squirming the whole way, Majima didn’t stop struggling until he heard the squeals of alarm in response to their appearance in Purgatory.

“The hell d’ya bring me down here for?! I gotta be back up there ‘fore Kiryu gets in, are you deaf??” Apparently so – or at least doing a champion job of ignoring every order which swung his way. When Majima’s feet finally found the ground again, his legs gave out from beneath himself, landing him in an undignified and dizzy heap on the tatami floor, shoes and all. He took a second or two to compose himself again and then, weight pitched forward onto his hands, glowered up at Nishida.

Yanking off first one shoe and then the other, he flung them both at the other man sulkily.  Warm crimson inched its way down his bared chest, catching on the edges of lean muscle and glinting in the mood lighting.

“This better be worth it.”

Are you blind??  He almost lets the retort slip past his lips, but figures that he’s already dug himself pretty deep at this point.  Setting Majima down once they reach their destination, Nishida lets out a short, startled sound as the taller man proceeds to go tumbling to the matted floor.  Well.  That could have gone a lot smoother.  “Sorry--hey!”  In some uncharacteristic feat of agility and reflexes, he manages to catch both snakeskin shoes in his hands when they’re flung at him.  Normally, he’d just accept the abuse, but he’s been hit in the head plenty enough for one day. 

Grumbling, he goes to the entrance of the room to remove his own shoes as well and set Majima’s next to them, following proper etiquette.  Returning to his boss, he kneels down in front of the man and tries not to pout in frustration as he takes in the other’s scowl.  Sure, the wild man’s antics can get to him sometimes, but he rarely feels genuinely angry at the other like he does now.  He’s willing to put up with a great deal of things with a calm, accepting demeanor, but the thought of Majima hurting himself like this pushes him past his limits.  This much can be seen in the way his dark, expressive brows carve deep ridges into his forehead.  “In my humble opinion, your health is worth it, Oyaji.”  Crossing his arms and watching Majima with an unwavering stare, he looks something like a stone guardian.

Meanwhile, the Mama of the brothel returns to the room bearing a tray of medical tools, one of her girls following her with a large bowl of soapy water and a rag.  As the women get themselves situated, Nishida nods to the other man, “Do you need help taking off your jacket, sir?”  The flatness and simulated calmness of his tone expresses that he’ll maintain his out-of-character forcefulness should the boss man refuse to comply. 

[nishidawho-blog]

snxkehips:

The woman’s eye immediately widened when she felt a cold liquid land on her back. If there was anything that would take her out of the relaxed state she was in, this would be it. She didn’t even bother to get up to see the piece of work he made on her back cause she could already imagine what it looked like due to how much of it she could feel on her. It took her a few seconds before she opened her mouth to say something.

“Ya better wipe this shit off my back before I take whatever bottle it came out of and shove it down yer throat.” Majima said in a threatening manner whilst not looking at him. Now she was starting to have second thoughts about making him her personal masseur. Perhaps paying someone for their services wasn’t such a bad idea after all. At least she wouldn’t have to deal with any clumsiness that would end up pissing her off.

It would be preferable to just have his arm cut off rather than suffer through the few seconds of silence that pass as he stands frozen in wait of his delivered fate, the boss not even turning her head to look at him.  As soon as she speaks, apparently feeling quite gracious with him, he quickly steps in to use his cupped hands to scrape the globs of lotion from the woman’s back.  “Sorry--!”  His voice comes out a few octaves higher than he’d prefer, and after a quick clearing of his throat, he makes a second attempt in a deeper tone, “Sorry, Boss...”

Now standing there with his hands full of the slimy stuff, a new obstacle presents itself.  What... What does he do with it all?  Looking around, clenching his teeth in silent agony as the clock ticks, he panics and lightly tip toes over to a decorative plant that’s in the corner of the room, the underside of its large leaves making for the perfect place to hide his mistake.  After a quick wipe, he returns to his place at the boss lady’s side.  Considering that she hasn’t made a move to get up, he’s guessing that he should keep going? 

With a quiet huff that’s intended to put his nerves at ease, he returns his large, calloused hands to her back, squared fingers careful as they work around her shoulder blades.  His gaze wanders from his work a little to observe the fearsome Hannya irezumi that seems to be watching him.  Come to think of it, he’s never really asked about it...  And to be honest, the stillness of the room is starting to feel awkward after his little futz up, even with Enya’s whispery singing emanating from the stereo.

“Um, Hahaoya?  Do you mind if I ask about your irezumi?  Why you chose the Hannya...?”  His own tattoos are pretty easy to decipher, but the Hannya is notorious for having multiple meanings, some more obscure than others, and bears the potential to carry some deeply personal context.

[nishidawho-blog]

mewgagotoku:

“Yes!” Still gripping Nishida’s shoulders tightly, Majima gave him a hard little shake for emphasis, eye wide and victorious. The idea of food stalls and the revenue therein only served to broaden the one-eyed man’s exuberant grin. “Exactly,” he declared proudly, as if he’d thought of all that himself - which, he reasoned, he sort of had.  Any good idea of Nishida’s was a good idea of his own.  That was what made him such a good boss. Or… something.

“Wait.“ Another shake. "What kinda trees?” Was that important? It was now. Only then did he loosen his grip, cracking the knuckles of one hand in the palm of the other as his grin began to fade at the thought of the blood said courtyard yet had on its hands. "Huh. Y'know what, Nishida, everythin’s built on sacrifice, ain’t it.  Like that time we thought we’d bricked Gary down in the foundations.” Some days, he sort of wished they had, but there was no telling what a trapped idiot might do – he wouldn’t be surprised if the big lug picked up the whole of Kamurocho Hills on his shoulders and wandered off with it one day by accident.

“Get him a company uniform.” A dead raccoon in a Majima Construction hard hat and hi-vis.  Somehow not the strangest thing to be carried through the gates of Kamurocho Hills thus far. “Greedy lil’ git’s done more work for the business than half the layabouts out there puffin’ an’ waitin’ for lunch right now.”

Eager to please and plenty happy to let Majima take credit for whatever he wants (which in turn may save some portion of his back end down the road should any of these plans go south somehow), Nishida nods in enthusiastic agreement as he’s given a hard shake.  At the boss’s pause and questioning over what kind of tree to plant, though, he squints and opens his mouth silently for a moment, hoping an answer will jump out of it.  “What kind...?”  Lifting his hand to his chin and nibbling on his lip, he thoughtfully considers the options.  

Perking up and listening to Majima’s somewhat inspiring speech about sacrifice and the time that they almost accidentally killed Gary--maybe he’s missing how the two subjects are related, but he rolls with it--gives him an idea.  The boss’s request for Uratama to be buried proper in a uniform only solidifies how important this matter is to the one-eyed man, whether or not he’d ever admit to it.  Having known the other man for nearly twenty years now, the thought of dressing up a dead raccoon doesn’t even strike him as odd at this point.  Smiling in encouragement, he gives another nod in agreement as he replies, “Consider it done--poor Uratama deserves it!  Er, and I’m sure we could... find something that would fit him!”  Maybe he could go to a toy store and see if they have any dolls with construction hats on them... it wouldn’t be the strangest thing that he’s purchased on behalf of one of Majima’s whims, not by a long shot.

Carefully, he steers the subject back a few steps, “Um, as for what we might plant--what about some Aodamo trees?  They symbolize sacrifice, and are actually a threatened species!”  The only reason he’s so learned on the topic of this particular tree is because it bears the kind of wood that his favorite baseball bats are made out of, and has been making the news as of late with the decreasing availability of said weaponry sports equipment.

Burial for a Raccoon

[nishidawho-blog]

    Buried nose-first in an armful of folders, the older yakuza fails to notice the younger’s timid approach until his name is spoken.  “Huh?”  Perking up and looking over, Nishida stares for a moment as if the other man just asked why the sky is blue.  Blinking as realization hits him, the new family member’s face registering in his memory, the right hand man’s expression shifts as he gives a welcoming smile and responds with a tone of voice to match, “It’s Takashiro-kun, right?  No one’s bothered filling you in on much, I take it.”

    Pausing in contemplation, Nishida looks at the younger man in consideration before smiling again as he abruptly holds out the stack of folders he was looking through, handing them off to the younger man, “Here, hold these, would you?  You’re not busy, right?  I could use some help with a few things...”  Swinging a heavy arm around the younger man’s shoulders in a friendly fashion, he guides them out of the main office of the family’s HQ, heading down the hall towards one of the exits.  

    “Tell ya what--why don’t you stick with me for the day?  I’ve got a lot of things to get done for the boss’s projects, and could really use a few extra hands.  In return, I’ll fill you in on whatever it is you wanna know, ‘n we can get some grub later on, too.  Sound fair?”  He can only imagine how lost the Majima-gumi’s newest member must be if no one’s yet been gracious enough to give the kid the time of day.  Having been living with Majima’s antics for nearly two decades now, he can almost forget how insane things must look from the outside.  Almost.  

@nishidawho || starter call

     ❝Huh–❞ Ichiro mutters more to himself, staring after the boss walking out of the room. Okay, so he wasn’t expecting that but there were plenty of things he wasn’t expecting once he somehow ended up here of all places. The young thug narrows his eyes slightly, then turns to face the other man in the room past his spot by the door, blinks confused before stepping closer and pointing after the absent body. 

    Takashiro wasn’t inherently judgemental, but he was confused now… The boss man was a mystery to him, really. Since that Kiryu guy came back, he’s been pestering him more than he’s been trying to do anything else. Actually, now the younglin freezed, trying to remember what was it that he wanted in the first place coming here… dammit. 

    ❝Nishida-san… why is was Majima-san dressed as a police officer?❞ His voice obtains a careful and respectful tone, he hasn’t yet actively talked to the other. He also knew he wasn’t shit around here… 

[nishidawho-blog]

[[ Hey, guys!  I got a random question, looking for opinions... 

How old do you think Kashiwagi is?   

[nishidawho-blog]

@dojiryu // Can You Hear Me Now? 

While perusing the limited office supplies at his favorite Poppo store, ever in need of an increasing number of folders and sticky notes for the boss’s multiplying schemes to pick fights with Kiryu Kazuma, Nishida lets his mind shut off for a moment as he ponders over which color he should get the sticky notes in.  Well... why not get one of each?  Color-coding would provide yet another layer of organization for the mess of projects he’s in charge of... 

His momentary state of zen, however, is interrupted when his phone buzzes and let out a series of chirps to alert him to a new text message.  Figures he wouldn’t get even a full ten minutes to himself.  Flipping out his phone, he reads over the message sent in from the big boss himself.  Then, he reads over it a second time, raising a curious brow.  A riddle?  How’s that supposed to goad Kiryu-san into a fight?  Oh well, he supposes his Oyaji knows what he’s doing.  With a few quick taps, he relays the message to the intended recipient: 

[ Text : Kiryu Kazuma ]:  Kiryu-san, I have a message from the boss.  He says it’s a riddle for you.  I seriously don’t understand him.  

--  Let’s roll together. 

Hitting send, his phone gives a little chirp to signify that the message was successfully delivered--and not two seconds later, someone else’s phone goes off right next to him.  What a funny coincidence; but he hardly takes notice.  Absently glancing over towards the sound, he freezes upon seeing just who it is that’s standing just a few feet away from him.  Is that... Kiryu-san?  What’s he doing here?  For whatever reason, Nishida feels the need to hide, a jolt of panic rising in him as he stiffly turns around and makes for the next aisle over.  The two of them have never actually met face-to-face, despite having spoken on the phone several times now, and he’s not sure that should change.  That, and... he might be just a tad shy.  That’s the Dragon of Dojima, after all, practically a living legend...

Although... the guy is... not as tall as Nishida was expecting, somehow.  That’s probably pretty common, though, for legends to seem bigger-than-life in one’s mental images; and Kiryu Kazuma is certainly that.  It’s not like it detracts from any of the man’s accomplishments, though, nor does it make him any less intimidating.

[nishidawho-blog]

Standing in the midst of a group of fellow We-Broke-It-What-Do-We-Do cohorts, Nishida is doing his best to speak over the chattery men in an attempt to guide the group thought process towards solving what’s surely to be the first of many problems for the day.  Truth be told, this is probably at least the fiftieth problem that’s arisen since sunrise, but this is just the first one that someone has bothered to actually inform him about.  Either he’s a bad site manager, or everyone is more concerned with covering their asses to avoid the Big Boss Downstair’s wrath.  Everything is brought to a sudden, uncanny standstill, however, when Nishida gives a sharp jolt upon feeling (more like hearing) something PING! off of his helmet.

All at once, the group of workers stop talking and look over at him, before following his gaze downward to a small pebble on the ground.  They all stare at it for a moment as if it’s an alien visitor.  “Hey, who threw that?”  A pause.  “... This is...”  

“TURF BATTLE!!!” 

As if some war horn was blown, the entirety of the construction crew goes still for a breath, machines shutting off to emphasize the brief silence as they all look in Nishida’s direction, before all hell breaks loose and men begin pouring out of every nook and cranny like a swarm of bees.  They come to the center of the site bearing brass knuckles, daggers, and other such items that really don’t have any place on a construction site.  Their rallying war cries only quiet down long enough so they can listen to the boss’s right hand man after several of them ask where their enemies are.  Clenching his fists around the baseball bat that he pulled out of somewhere, Nishida looks around at the faces of the crew as he barks out his orders, “Do a perimeter search for any intruders!  We won’t let those bastards take this land from us!!”  

The crew disperses like a grenade went off at its core, scattering all across the site in search of their rivals.  They’re about due for another attack, so it’s no surprise that all it would take is a pebble to set things off.  Glancing around, Nishida pauses when he notices a kid standing over at one of the perimeter fences.  Resting his dented baseball bat (which has questionable stains on it) on his shoulder, the worker makes a beeline straight over to the onlooker, stopping once he reaches the fence.  “Hey, kid--have you seen any groups of thug-lookin’ guys around?”  Despite the adrenaline that has him pumped up from head to toe, his tone of voice is actually quite friendly.

             a part of him had convinced himself that this was the price to pay for waking him up at odd hours of the day. sure, construction was, in part, controlled by government paid firms and private companies hired for more personal jobs— but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t pissed off. the drilling of concrete and the revving of machine engines early in the morning warranted a small pebble tossed over the fence towards a gaggle of workers. to his surprise, it smacked straight into one of the men’s hats ( thank god they were wearing them at least )

// @nishidawho

[nishidawho-blog]

... 

[nishidawho-blog]

[[ I just found this cap in my icon folder and forgot that I named it “Blurry Boy got Majima’s Back”.  Look how ready he is to fight for his photo-bombing Oyaji.  That, or he’s totally zoning out while Majima gives a speech to the rest of the men.

[nishidawho-blog]

Verses:

- Yakuza 0 (During & Post):  (Age 18)  Nishida has family members in both Kamurocho and Sotenbori who he goes to visit from time to time.  This is around the time when he first time he sees a man dressed in a snakeskin jacket, a real yakuza, and he's inspired to seek out a more adventurous route for his life.

- Welcome to the Family (Post-Y0, Pre-YK1):  (Age ranges from 18 to 25.)  Nishida is one of the first members of Majima Goro's Yakuza Family.  Being fresh out of the countryside, he starts out very naive and has a lot of learning to do.  He quickly rises in the ranks due to his diligent work ethic and ability to calmly handle his boss's antics, eventually landing himself in the position of being Majima's right hand man.  

- Oyaji Everywhere! (YK1): (Age 35)  Nishida is a busy bee, often times seen with up to five different clipboards as he scurries around Kamuroho, managing the logistics of Majima's various schemes to get Kiryu to fight him.  During this time, he's also the faceless coordinator who gets into contact with Kiryu over the phone, sending texts and calling the man as per Majima's wishes.

- We Build Shit! (YK2):  (Age 36) (Main Verse)  With the Majima-Gumi's departure from the Tojo Clan, Nishida follows his boss on a new venture--Construction!  ... Huh?  Taking on the role of Site Manager, Nishida's got his hands full as he adjusts to the civvie life... though, honestly, things don't feel too different, considering that his crazy boss is still in the mix.  Will often be seen walking around with his hardhat on, always forgetting that he's still wearing it because it's so strangely comfy.

[nishidawho-blog]

mewgagotoku

“No. NO. NO NO NO.” Later on, Majima would claim that he had bellowed and howled, but what actually came out of his mouth was more akin to a series of squawks. He gave a gasping little yelp as the skin pinched around his wound twisted and split, the jolt of pain giving him enough energy to kick and thump the other man like a cat trapped in a sack. “GET OFFA ME!”

There was only a limited amount of damage he could do from up here, but he certainly did what he could - punching Nishida in the back and trying fruitlessly to kick him in the head. All knees and elbows, he struggled and thrashed violently until they reached their destination, the slash across his chest bleeding red rage.

“Imma eat ya face, ya donkey dong!” Delirium or madness, this was a temper tantrum like no other. “I ain’t got time fer this! Pumme down!!”

It’s the equivalent of walking through a hailstorm--wherein the hail chunks are the size of bowling balls--as Nishida weathers Majima’s downpour of walloping fists and jabbing bony joints.  What he’d give to have his hardhat right now!  The most he can do in terms of defense is tighten his hold on the raging hellcat and lower his head until it’s practically level with his shoulders.  The only other thing he can do to increase his dwindling odds of survival is hurry the hell up!

Journeying down the steep stairs to Purgatory with Majima swinging and squirming around like he is gives Nishida enough heart palpitations to cause him to start panting lightly, a few close calls in which he nearly misses a step or slips shooting his adrenaline through the roof.  The stress of the situation is enough to draw out an uncharacteristic growl from the normally mild-mannered man, which runs through his voice as he barks out, “I gave you a choice, Oyaji!  ‘S not my fault you--ow!--chose to be a--a BIG BABY about it!!”  Oh, he’s probably going to regret that little outburst at some point, if not immediately.

The pair of them garner an array of confused and stunned stares from the patrons down in Purgatory as he hurries across the red-carpeted walkway, veering off the main path upon reaching their destination.  Going up the steps and entering the brothel where the savvy Mama who knows how to do a decent patch-up job resides, their entrance causes a stir among the working girls beyond the doorway, some of them letting out startled yips while others angrily mewl at the intrusion.  “Um, I’m sorry, ladies, but I need to speak with Mama--ow, Oyaji!--I need help getting him fixed up, quickly!”  Much to his relief, the women scatter to fetch their boss, who beckons the two men into one of the back rooms.

[nishidawho-blog]

snxkehips

“Good.” She responded, shifting slightly. Thinking about it, it didn’t seem like a half bad idea to make him be the only one to massage her whenever she became sore. Sure, she felt like he needed some improvement but that would happen over time, plus why would she need to pay for someone to soothe her aches when she could just get her trusty employee to do it for free. Seemed like a smart idea in her book.

“But ya better not be getting any ideas, Nishida. Just because I’m liking yer hands on work, doesn’t mean I’m gonna give ya any ass in return.” Majima wasn’t sure what was on his mind at the moment; mainly because she couldn’t read minds, but she was going to make sure to shoot down whatever thoughts he had ahead of time.

Well, it certainly wouldn’t be the worst odd job that Majima would add onto his resume.  It’s actually pretty nice, taking a break from the usual chaos and antics that comes with being a member of the Majima-Gumi.  There’s soothing music (he was wholly unaware that the boss had an Enya CD, but he won’t say anything about it), a relaxed atmosphere, and the boss lady seems to be enjoying herself!  Happy boss, happy Nishida.  All wins in his book.

Feeling his hands start to dry out, he pulls away for a moment to pluck up a tube of lotion, snapping open the lid.  Just as he’s about to squeeze some of the stuff out onto his palm, though, Majima warns him not to get any ideas--and informs him that there will be no ass in the deal.  “E-Eh--??”  Startled by the sudden insinuation, face going red as a fire truck, he jolts and tenses up, which results in a hearty squeeze to the lotion bottle that sends a spurt of the globby stuff skyward.  

With his mouth hanging open in horror, time seems to slow down as he watches the blob of lotion makes its fateful decent before it dramatically splats right across the boss’s back.  This is it.  This is how he dies.  “Ah...”

[nishidawho-blog]

stare (I offer some Nishida-ception)

“........  Um...”  This guy looks... oddly familiar.  But why’s he staring like that?  What a weirdo... or maybe the guy is just zoning out and daydreaming and just happens to be looking his way?  He does that a lot himself, so...

When the stare continues for far too long, he clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably.  Does he wanna fight or something?  “H-Hey...  Whatcha lookin’ at?”  He likes the guy’s shirt.  He should ask him where he got it, if this doesn’t go south.