You ought to be blowing me kisses [Shinpei]

It was good to be back.

Shinpei was slipping into all of his old habits and his old haunts, older by a year but hardly changed. He wasn't the kind of man who could become someone else just by trying: in many ways, things tended to happen to him instead of the other way around. If you looked at it that way I guess you could say he was a product of the largest and most far-reaching events in his life, which now stretched near half a millennium. If an ocean metaphor is better, the waves that had rounded him were a mixture of huge tsunamis and millions of very small ripples that all built up into something monumental.
Looking at it that way, do you think you could ever change him?

Of course, that challenge was tempting to some--most drawn by the idea that they could be the one to change him and a few by the knowledge that he never would change. This girl was something like that, and if Shinpei remembered her name I'd gladly tell it to you. Somehow in the hour or so they'd been together it had fallen right out of his head, like he had a couple holes just name-sized. It was funny how it tended to go that way.
But names were so over-stressed. What did she need a name for when he knew her by the sweet sandalwood smell dabbed on her shoulders and her neck, by the little laugh she half-tried to hide, and by the curve of her body underneath him? He remembered the circumstances of their meeting--chance, him walking alone and her abandoned by someone (a partner? Could be) and the both of them appreciating just how beautiful the park was right then in the grip of spring.
It was bound to end this way, at least by Shinpei's thinking: I've always had a weakness for flowers. That was the kind of lazy spring thought that was making its way through his head right then.

The woman popped a cherry into his mouth and tugged at the stem, the two playfully fighting over the fruit until with a quiet plucking noise the stem gave way. Shinpei loved that part, when the tension reached its limit, although he certainly loved the parts before and after.
Such as before this, when they'd gone rolling in the leaves and the soft blanket she'd brought to picnic on, or after this, when--

Oh, too cruel. Didn't anyone know how to knock anymore?

The woman gently extracted herself, lifting his head off her lap and bending low to whisper him a few words. She looked like she was trying to decide whether or not to kiss him, but chose not to in the end. Oh, the words? Well, something about a time and a place he could find her. If he remembered them an hour from now he might even pursue her.

Don't let him fool you. He's not always like this; in fact, he has many moments where I'm sure you'd be shocked to find him acting more like his brother than he'd like to admit. You should see him tend his sister's garden. You should see him practice his swordwork.
Of course, few do see these things, mostly because he doesn't show them off. His playboyish nature, however--that you could see from a mile away.

"Chinda Nagisa," he repeated languidly, making no move to rise and pay her the proper respect. His kimono, flowery and almost girlish, was askew here and there, and in his short black hair a couple leaves were lodged. He picked one out and rubbed it in his hand as he considered the woman. Not that he was really giving her a once-over just yet: he liked to take his sweet time with that and we're running low on space.

"Depends on what you're here for," he answered her with a smirk. "I'm a busy man some of the time, but I'm the very best at indulging women. Maybe we can make it quick."
"But either way, won't you join me? It's a beautiful day."

He met her eyes as he proposed it, the hand holding the leaf sweeping out to indicate the blanket beneath and beside him. If he was right about Nagisa--and sometimes he was, with a couple hundred years of experience--then she would understand the challenge in his invitation.
Whether she'd rise to meet it was another question.

Raising an eyebrow warily Nagisa beheld the man who wore a rather flamboyant kimono so lasciviously as if he was just rolling out of bed. She didn’t like that one bit and had a hard time to keep that out of her face. Where Shun Minamoto was rigid and tried to press his idea of shape onto everything in his surroundings, Shinpei lacked form completely, felt fluid, like she wouldn’t even be able to grasp him if she tried. The former she could deal with, she knew his kind and ways by now. This though…this felt like a honey pot. Too sweet to resist, but indulge yourself too much and you’d end up trapped and with sticky fingers. Or worse, stung.

“Truly, you are a man that’s constantly pressed for time.”

Feeling her heart pound uncomfortably at the sight of the leaves in his hair, filling it with the unusual urge to carefully pick them out the woman swallowed and clenched her jaw. He was a satin clad trap and she’d be damned if she fell for it that easily. Fighting the urge to long for simpler days, where her enemies had been clear to her and the battlefield had not been an oval office or an embroidered blanket but the concrete streets of a ruined city she regarded Shinpei’s hand.

Kiriko had been a soldier. She would have remained standing, no matter how uncomfortable of a talk that would have made it, at least it would have served to highlight her persona and been in tune with her reputation. Jasper would not have come out here, period. She was neither though, and that meant that she still had a reputation to build. Or perhaps she had already. In that case his outstretched hand was more challenge than invitation. Feeling that the moment was stretching on for longer than it should Nagisa tried her best to smile. “It is a beautiful day.”

Folding her legs beneath her the Chinda kept her back straight as a rod and sat more like a daimyo than a geisha. Uncomfortably aware of how the soft breeze carried his smell and how the color of his skin contrasted with his kimono Nagisa kept her eyes directed at the nearby stream. Licking her lips she drew breath, but then stopped. Shifting her body ever so slightly she brought an additional half inch between herself and the Minamoto, and as if that distance made all the difference she was finally able to talk.

“My dear Shinpei,” she began and turned her head sideways to look at him. “I heard stories of your skill with the sword. Supposedly you even gave sweet Hazuki a run for her money. That’s something we have in common.” She turned her upper body slightly towards him and raised an index finger. “Moreover, I also heard that your dear brother, bless his heart, and you don’t quite see eye to eye on many things.” Adding a second finger Nagisa gave him a smile, one she had previously reserved for the likes of Lyvy or Seryu. “That too we have in common.”

“Now, while you’re decidedly different from all the Minamoto I have met so far, I can still see some of their streaks in you. Correct me if I am wrong, but if all of this is true, then I might have an…opportunity for you. Interested?”


563/50=11; 21

"Truly," he answered her with a grin. "I sometimes wonder how I manage to accomplish all I do in a single day."
His voice might have followed hers, but his eyes were on a separate assignment. They slowly trailed up her long legs--up once, then down and up again, just to enjoy what he saw--and slid up her body until he finally did meet her gaze.

Did he like what he saw?
Well, that's a complicated question. Or at least it has a complicated answer. You'd be hard-pressed to find a woman that Shinpei didn't like the looks of, although it did happen every now and then. Certainly there were things about her that didn't appeal as much to him--such as her outlandish height, slightly taller than him and slightly shorter than his brother--and things that made her interesting, like her differently-colored eyes and the way she tried not to blush at certain things he did.
Of course, there were even things that evoked a mixed reaction, like her Yamato Nadeshiko style and that flawless posture of hers. It's impossible to live as long as Shinpei had and not find just a few painful points that stuck around.

Shinpei toyed with the leaf in his hand and tossed it away when she came over to sit by him. He idly watched it drift and fall, another four caught in his messy black hair but forgotten for the moment. The playboy watched her sit arrow-straight and covered his mouth with one hand, laughing slightly before revealing an infectious grin. "Absolutely captivating," he agreed with her, his eyes hot on her skin even through the outfit she wore. He wished idly for a stray breeze to calmly snatch it away from her or at least expose some skin. Wouldn't he see a really delightful expression from her then?

He had to keep himself from laughing again when she scooted just a bit further away from him: he was beginning to get a good handle on just the kind of person she was. Of course, he'd heard rumors about her. How could he avoid them? Some women did like to talk, and there were an awful lot of women in his bed right now. Probably. He'd have to go and check if they'd died of boredom after he'd abandoned them for a day.
Always cruel. Cruel? He didn't think so. He'd never pretended to be anything besides who he was.

Anyway, rumors aside, he knew who she was. And he even had a guess at what she was here for, so he listened half-heartedly to her windup. He even gave her a smile or two when she praised him. "Oh, I'm sure we have more in common than that," he answered her sweetly. "But you're dead wrong about Hazuki. She had me handled, not the other way around." The flash in his eyes said he didn't mind that state of affairs--or being handled--just one bit.

Different from all the Minamoto. She certainly had that right. And though anyone else in his family would have at least considered the idea...
"I'm sorry," he apologized. That smirk was still etched on his face. "I don't know if you heard, but a long time ago I tried the Division life, and I just couldn't adjust to it. See, it turns out sleeping on the job--or sleeping around on the job--tends to get looked down upon, and..."

His breath cut off for just a second. Maybe the light finally caught her left hand, or maybe his gaze just drifted that way. Whichever it was, he suddenly propped himself up. A couple of those leaves went drifting out of his hair as he raised his eyebrows and made an abrupt 180.
"And I don't see why working under a pretty lady like yourself wouldn't be a nice change of pace. Assuming this is a job offer?"

His hand didn't sport the same scar, but it might as well have.

Well, Nagisa admitted to herself: Getting manhandled by her is something else we have in common then.

Her heart skipped a beat at the way Shinpei’s eyes wandered over her legs, and then up. His confident and laid back gaze gave the Chinda a moment of puzzlement. His eyes that seemed to know that he could get whatever he wanted and if he didn’t, well, he probably didn’t want it anymore then anyways. It was equal parts irritating to be in the presence of such a man, and at the same time Nagisa was starting to understand why so many women found themselves drawn to him, despite his womanizing ways being legendary. The confident swagger in his presence put one at ease and somehow gave the impression that once he finally would get on his feet he’d do something spectacular. And who didn’t want to be there when it happened?

A second later her heart sank somewhat at how easily Shinpei began to brush off her words. She had known that it wouldn’t be easy to entice a man with his history to abandon his lazy life, yet she could hardly tell him that she wanted him because it would most certainly irritate his brother to no end. Or could she? The wooden emblem against her chest weighed heavy as Nagisa reached up to brush a strand of her out of her face and – oh? Her eyes widened in surprise as the slouch left the Minamoto’s eyes. On reflex the Chinda put another inch of distance between the man and her, and yet her curiosity at what had caused his abrupt change had her leaning in ever so slightly.

“It is,” Nagisa admitted and slowly her left hand retrieved the badge that she carried near her chest. It was something Jasper had given her, and as his last memento precious to her. Showing off the well worn wood on the palm of her hand the Chinda paused for a moment, just like she had witnessed Tokiyo do time and time again – she presumed it was for gravitas. “I want you to become my Lieutenant, Shinpei. Things keep changing and I have the feeling that’s not something that will subside quickly. Fifth needs a talented Vice-Captain, and I need you to...”Irritate the hell out of your brother? Be someone who will keep him off my back? Improve my public standing with your family’s name? The sentence hung in the air for a moment before Nagisa became uncomfortably aware of it: “Be the best you can be?”

Despite being renowned for her iron will it took a great deal of effort for the younger Chinda to not cringe at the lackluster finish. Still, the signs were there as her eyebrows narrowed, eyes closed and a small wrinkle stole its way across her forehead. She should have practiced that moment. Debating whether the shame was too great and leave Nagisa resolved to ride it out. Inhaling deeply she pushed against that awkward feeling in her chest and tried her best to sound cheerful: “So, what do you say, Shinpei? Zero to hero?”

Might as well commit.

“Clearly I’m a damsel in distress.”

And there are more than enough dragons around.




537/50=10;31

Nagisa scooted back another bit and Shinpei sank into his customary recline, but the newly-kindled fire didn't leave his eyes. She reminded him in that moment of a deer: easily startled, skittish, but sleek and graceful.
There was an old saying, or maybe it was new. There were rabbits and there were deer and there were bears. You couldn't catch a rabbit with a bear trap: it would see the big metal fangs and it would go running off. You couldn't catch a deer with rabbit food: grass was everywhere. You couldn't catch a bear the same way you caught a deer: getting the bear to eat from your hand was all well and good, but then the bear was on you and the hunter was suddenly prey.

He watched the badge come out and he eyed it casually. He knew what it was: anyone living in the Seireitei could hardly mistake a Lieutenant's badge from a Sixth Seat's or a Captain's. It was intriguing that she'd butchered the formality so badly: he wasn't sure he'd ever heard of anyone going straight to Lieutenant from--well--from nothing. There was a certain unspoken set of rules that tended not to get violated simply because Captains usually didn't want to stir up the pot too badly. Apparently Nagisa was different.
He liked different, every now and then.

"Be the best I can be," he echoed, and fell back onto the blanket with his hands pressed to his eyes. "Good god." What a botch. "You don't know all that much about men, do you?" He gave a long, world-weary sigh and propped himself back up. His gaze caught hers and held it. "You know exactly what you're doing by coming to me. You could have found someone like my brother, and then you could have said 'oh please, keep me safe!' but you don't want someone like my brother. You want me."
Why that was true he made no attempt to guess. Her reasons were her own, even if they tended to show on her face when she wasn't paying attention.

"You don't come to a man like me and say 'protect me!' because you're barking up the wrong tree. My brother is the hero in this scenario. I'm the dragon that steals good princesses away from their homes."
If he was a dragon, he didn't look it. Right then he was just a grinning playboy--cocky, self-assured, and just a bit narcissistic. Maybe a lot narcissistic. There were still a couple leaves in his hair and where his robes had come just a little undone, there were some glimpses of light-colored, toned skin.
But even deer like to be scared every now and then.

Shinpei pressed forward and all of a sudden he was very, very close to Nagisa. Close enough to pluck the badge out of her hands and cock his head at it. Close enough to turn to face her, close enough for her to see her own reflection in his eyes. "What could I possibly protect you from?" His voice was still chiding, but it had turned a little lower. Or maybe the timbre was different this close to her ears. "You've just made yourself the Captain that fell for the villainous brother's wiles. Don't tell me you want me to save you, because that's not my character. If you want me, you lay down and you bare your neck and you say 'oh please, don't eat me!'"

Another challenge. In truth, there had been many already in the few moments they'd spent together. This was just one of the more obvious ones.
"That's the way you entice someone like me to work for you."

He looked a little like a dragon, then. He was still the same old careless playboy, but despite anything his mouth was saying his eyes, tracing along her skin, said "how shall I devour you?"

Well, that could have gone better.

All that Nagisa thought to have learned about employee motivation and appealing to the chivalrous nature of men melted like ice in the sun as a bit of temper stole its way into the Minamoto’s voice. Debating whether it was a good thing or not that she had finally elicited a spirited reply Nagisa’s upper body leaned back as Shinpei closed in. Perhaps it was good that he was a dragon, the thought crossed her mind and then she explored it. Having little experience with men but a lot with dangerous beasts that reveled in their own self importance she ought to, perhaps, enjoy the idea of having her own dragon to point into a direction and watch it irritate people in ways only a Minamoto could.

Clearing her throat the Chinda the resisted the urge to put a finger against his chest to restore a modicum of distance – caught between wanting to prove her own strength and playing things by her rules she found herself swinging this way and that way like an undecided pendulum, and she hated it. Why was experience such a vexing thing that you only had right after you needed it?

Swallowing her tongue Nagisa could feel her fingernails dig painfully into the palm of her hand as Shinpei’s words dripped into her ears like sweet poison, causing her to sneer involuntarily. Bare her throat!? There was a limit to how far she let one cocky slacker push things, whether she wanted him or not. Gritting her teeth but trying her best to hide it with a smile, she tilted her head softly and reached out with her right hand to brush some hair away from his face. “I admire how you are true to yourself no matter what happens. I could learn that from you. Perhaps it’s even a Minamoto trait in general. In turn for showing that to me, I’ll teach you something about Chinda women, interested?”

The hand that had caressed Shinpei’s forehead surged up to grab some of his hair, yanking his head down Nagisa slid to his right, put up her left knee and bent the man’s elbow over it, exerting a pressure that made it clear how easily it would break. Nagisa’s eyes shone with an icy glare. “You don’t mess with us.”

“Here’s some truth for you, Shinpei Minamoto. Your brother has it out for me and it seems he has the majority of the Seireitei in his pocket. It feels like I live on borrowed time, and I am sick and tired of being pushed around. I need to learn many things and I need to learn them fast. I want you because even more than teaching me some of these things, your appointment will annoy your brother to no end. And it will introduce a new variable, one he cannot control. One that nobody can control. I don’t know how to handle your type, and perhaps you will be more of a curse than a blessing to me, but I don’t have the luxury of being picky.”

Inhaling her nostrils flared. Raising her chin she made sure the next words came out loud and clear.

“I do not care if you’re a hero or a dragon, because I am no damsel in distress. Everything I have in life I fought for tooth and nail. And I will continue to fight because that’s what Chinda do,” pushing him away Nagisa jaw clenched and her piercing gaze sought to penetrate that cocky façade he hid behind. She wanted him, but she didn’t need him. Nobody did, and that was precisely the truth that he tried to drown in heaps of women but would always ring in his ears. Shinpei Minamoto was as much an exemplar as he was a warning. “Either you’ll follow me, or you get the hell out of my way.”


651/50=13; 44
I presume this necessitates a Hakuda check for grappling, but with Advanced vs None, I think I made it

What kind of Captain would Shinpei like to work under?
Well, that's kind of a difficult question. See, the very question of being beholden to someone--that didn't sit so right with him. He considered himself a free spirit in a couple of important ways, and one of those ways was being able to do what he wanted whenever he wanted. If he wanted to go outside and pull up some weeds or water a flowerbed, he wanted to be able to make that decision. It's like a story about an office worker, something like this:

A man works at an office and every day he comes in with a grimace on his face. One of his colleagues asks him what's got him so down, and he says "Well, I was just thinking: the company wouldn't like it if I went out jogging, would they?"
His colleague says that no, of course they wouldn't. "So, did you want to go jogging or something?"
The first worker considers this and says, "well, not right now."
"Have you ever wanted to do something like that?"
"Not really, but what if one day I do?"

In a way, it's a petty kind of complaint. The worker could always jog before or after work. He could jog on the weekends. Should the company be to blame for not cooperating with every whim that occurs to every employee?
And all the same, that was the way Shinpei thought. His brief stint in a Division had been nothing but boring, and all because he tended to dwell on all the things he wasn't going to be able to do. He'd be sitting around in the office thinking "well, what if I wanted to go outside and see the sun?" He'd be walking around on duty thinking to himself "well, what if I wanted to relax all day?"
It didn't matter if he really did want those things right then. That wasn't the point of it. That's what I'm getting at.

So to answer the initial question--he didn't really want to work under anyone. Talking in that sort of vein would end up with you just getting information about the kinds of leaders he'd dislike least.
Was Kiriko one of those types?

His eyes flashed as she reached up to cup his cheek--no, to brush his hair aside. How out of character for this woman! He smiled a little falsely, eyes drifting just a little. If this was the way she was going to play it, then he'd rather spend the day at home. She had become so boring just then that he couldn't quite manage to fix his eyes on her. His attention was waning.
He'd even given her such clear instructions.
"Do tell," he answered her casually, trying to think of a way to end the conversation quickly. Maybe he could still go and find that nice girl he'd been sitting with. What was her name again? His train of thought, returned to its salacious track, was then very roughly and rudely derailed.
"Oof," he managed, taken by surprise and overpowered by a girl he realized belatedly was even stronger than he was.
He turned his head slightly, as far as her grip would allow, and watched her as she monologued.
A slow grin spread across his face.
She had his full attention.
Would you understand if I said that in that moment, as she glared down at him and expressed her frustration for the first time, he thought she was especially beautiful?

"Ah, ah." He slowly and carefully pointed his left hand down to the katana sheathed in his belt. He didn't touch it but rather pantomimed drawing that sword, prodding her with the hilt, bringing the sword across her body.
"Both your hands are occupied. You can break my arm but I can do worse to you."
Of course, he had no intention of doing anything like that. For one thing, unless she was incredibly slow he would end up with a broken elbow, maybe a shattered arm. Healing was fast in the Seireitei, but who sought out that sort of thing?
Instead, he was puzzling away at trying to remember just what the smart move in this situation was. It had been so long, and he'd never been the one focused on sword defense anyway but the shoulder--
Ah, yes. How could he have forgotten that?
"Pull me in, not just down," he instructed her. "You can get a better arm bar if you have my shoulder pinned to the ground--put your right knee on my shoulder." Like that he'd still be able to draw his sword but he wouldn't be able to do much with it. If she moved in so she was half on top of his shoulder, he wouldn't be able to reach her, and even if he did all the power would be gone.

He grinned up at her, an old rush of excitement suffusing him. How long had it been?
"I think we could stand to teach each other a great deal. If you'll have me."