Tenkai
Strangely Not Unemployed Anymore
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- Tomorrow 5:27 AM
- Messages
- 37
ABOUT ME
Hello everyone! I'm Tenkai. I've been RPing and writing for about uh 10 years or so now, though I've been away from the whole thing for about 3 years. I used to RP on Hurtful Tactics (and TinierMe before that!) but unfortunately they are all gone now :( So here I am! Back in the game to practice my writing and get those creative juices flowing again haha.
I would love to find partners to RP with! I cannot promise quick replies, but I'll never disappear without saying a word, so no worries :) Well, unless something unforeseen happens, anyways. Otherwise, I'll try my best to keep writing. One of my biggest regrets have been the deterioration of my language skills, so I really hope I can get my act together.
ROLEPLAY PREFERENCES
✔ I am really open to trying out different genres, though I prefer fantasy, angst and MxM :")
✔ I am okay with rated scenes and most kinks (but no promises for quality!)
✔ I prefer replies with a minimum of 3 or more paragraphs, although if the situation calls for a response, I do not mind shorter!
✔ Good intense plots yes yesyes
I will post a request thread and you'll be able to find it here: https://writerssanctum.com/threads/looking-for-rp-partners.16872/
Oh and samples of my writing here (although I am definitely worse now):
Hello everyone! I'm Tenkai. I've been RPing and writing for about uh 10 years or so now, though I've been away from the whole thing for about 3 years. I used to RP on Hurtful Tactics (and TinierMe before that!) but unfortunately they are all gone now :( So here I am! Back in the game to practice my writing and get those creative juices flowing again haha.
I would love to find partners to RP with! I cannot promise quick replies, but I'll never disappear without saying a word, so no worries :) Well, unless something unforeseen happens, anyways. Otherwise, I'll try my best to keep writing. One of my biggest regrets have been the deterioration of my language skills, so I really hope I can get my act together.
ROLEPLAY PREFERENCES
✔ I am really open to trying out different genres, though I prefer fantasy, angst and MxM :")
✔ I am okay with rated scenes and most kinks (but no promises for quality!)
✔ I prefer replies with a minimum of 3 or more paragraphs, although if the situation calls for a response, I do not mind shorter!
✔ Good intense plots yes yesyes
I will post a request thread and you'll be able to find it here: https://writerssanctum.com/threads/looking-for-rp-partners.16872/
Oh and samples of my writing here (although I am definitely worse now):
Just grit your teeth and smile
Because everything will be alright, won't it?
Carve it on your face if you must
So no one can claim otherwise
Don't speak-
The tremors will give you away
Stay calm, take deep breaths-
Smile
Everything will be alright come morning
Just wait. Wait for the sun
Smile-
Because what's underneath is unknown to even your self
So make merry and laugh
Enjoy and feel it
Because that's what we're supposed to do, right?
This is what we're supposed to feel
Therefore I must feel it
I must learn to feel it
To cultivate the emotions by hand
To feel what I need to feel only;
And nothing else
But.. Everything isn't alright, is it?
The rays may drown out the honest winter
And then it'll just be warm. Then it'll burn with falsehood
And the tattoos will stay
No one will know
No one will care
Don't make trouble; just-
Smile
Just grit your teeth and smile
Because everything will be alright, won't it?
Just grit your teeth and bite your lip
And smile
Because in the end-
...Nothing will ever be alright again
Because everything will be alright, won't it?
Carve it on your face if you must
So no one can claim otherwise
Don't speak-
The tremors will give you away
Stay calm, take deep breaths-
Smile
Everything will be alright come morning
Just wait. Wait for the sun
Smile-
Because what's underneath is unknown to even your self
So make merry and laugh
Enjoy and feel it
Because that's what we're supposed to do, right?
This is what we're supposed to feel
Therefore I must feel it
I must learn to feel it
To cultivate the emotions by hand
To feel what I need to feel only;
And nothing else
But.. Everything isn't alright, is it?
The rays may drown out the honest winter
And then it'll just be warm. Then it'll burn with falsehood
And the tattoos will stay
No one will know
No one will care
Don't make trouble; just-
Smile
Just grit your teeth and smile
Because everything will be alright, won't it?
Just grit your teeth and bite your lip
And smile
Because in the end-
...Nothing will ever be alright again
It was silent. Not deadening, not deafening. Just an absolute silence, which nothing could penetrate. It was a feeling not dissimilar to watching a train wreck, or the collapse of a skyscraper. Of watching a disaster occur in front of your eyes with no way to prevent it. I couldn't utter a single word. And it was ironic. Funny, even. That this should occur in a typical underground subway - a normal, everyday scene with people swarming and crowding like ants.
There was a lifeless doll. Torn and dirtied. It had the form of a small little girl, a cute smile painted on it's face turned sinister with cracks. An abandoned, lonely toy. Slumped in one small corner against the walls, accompanied with loose trash and dirt, it would have been the pure picture of desolation.. Were it not for the red glint peeking out at me from within, oozing out from the missing half of it's broken head.
There was something in there. Something alive. Something hauntingly creepy, whose very essence seemed to promise an eternity of exquisite agony and sufferings. The silence creeped in. I couldn't tear my eyes away.
It was lonely, I could tell that much. Birthed from the feelings of that which were thrown away? Hatched from the resentment of the abandoned? I didn't know. It was hungry, too. But for what? I didn't know that, either. However.. For every person which passed it by, eyes not even flicking down to acknowledge it's presence, there was a small thump, not unlike the pounding of a heartbeat. It rang in my ears, louder than a war drum. Could no one see, nor hear?
Thump.. Thump... Thump..
It was an incessant noise. An unsteady, scattered sound with no pattern to it. Then it was a matter of watching. The fluid, gooey mess of matter inside that seeped wisps of black tendrils in a mockery of smoke. It grew louder, and louder. Bigger, and bigger.
It was like watching drops of water falling into a full cup. When it beads together at the top.. Waiting for the final drop that would send it all crashing down. And it came quickly, far too soon. Or was it too late? Color flooded back into my senses. But my ears were still empty. All that sounded was just cascading destruction.
It lashed out, dragging everyone nearby towards in. Desperation and fear permeated the air. Dragging, dragging, dragging. Anyone nearby, all those that were running away, all were caught mercilessly, and dragged.. Into the very same space that the monster was birthed, the broken half of an abandoned doll's face, which was now both a void and an infinity. We had brought this on ourselves.
There was no point to running. The subway itself had collapsed. And soon, it would be my turn, to--
I threw myself out of my bed, eyes wide and dilated. My heart was beating frantically, trying to claw its way out of my chest. A dream..? Nay, a nightmare. But it was all over now. The red digital letters of the alarm clock by my bed flashed the numbers at me clinically, as if in counter. '4.44AM'
The room got several degrees colder. The number of death. A morbid sign? Maybe. I turned away, but the number remained behind my eyelids, pervasive in its presence. The mechanical tick-tock as every second crawled by was unbearable.
Shivering, the striking sound of my teeth clicking against each other involuntarily scared me. It wasn't yet cold enough for teeth to chatter. Disgusted with both the atmosphere and myself, I threw the sheets over my bed, and waited, not in vain. Darkness rose to meet and claim me.
It was when I woke up the next morning, bright and fresh, my mind automatically fogging remembrance, that something occurred to me. Something that stopped me short, and mimed the cold tendrils of that same monster, wrapping like barbs around my frozen heart.
There had never been a clock by my bedside.
There was a lifeless doll. Torn and dirtied. It had the form of a small little girl, a cute smile painted on it's face turned sinister with cracks. An abandoned, lonely toy. Slumped in one small corner against the walls, accompanied with loose trash and dirt, it would have been the pure picture of desolation.. Were it not for the red glint peeking out at me from within, oozing out from the missing half of it's broken head.
There was something in there. Something alive. Something hauntingly creepy, whose very essence seemed to promise an eternity of exquisite agony and sufferings. The silence creeped in. I couldn't tear my eyes away.
It was lonely, I could tell that much. Birthed from the feelings of that which were thrown away? Hatched from the resentment of the abandoned? I didn't know. It was hungry, too. But for what? I didn't know that, either. However.. For every person which passed it by, eyes not even flicking down to acknowledge it's presence, there was a small thump, not unlike the pounding of a heartbeat. It rang in my ears, louder than a war drum. Could no one see, nor hear?
Thump.. Thump... Thump..
It was an incessant noise. An unsteady, scattered sound with no pattern to it. Then it was a matter of watching. The fluid, gooey mess of matter inside that seeped wisps of black tendrils in a mockery of smoke. It grew louder, and louder. Bigger, and bigger.
It was like watching drops of water falling into a full cup. When it beads together at the top.. Waiting for the final drop that would send it all crashing down. And it came quickly, far too soon. Or was it too late? Color flooded back into my senses. But my ears were still empty. All that sounded was just cascading destruction.
It lashed out, dragging everyone nearby towards in. Desperation and fear permeated the air. Dragging, dragging, dragging. Anyone nearby, all those that were running away, all were caught mercilessly, and dragged.. Into the very same space that the monster was birthed, the broken half of an abandoned doll's face, which was now both a void and an infinity. We had brought this on ourselves.
There was no point to running. The subway itself had collapsed. And soon, it would be my turn, to--
I threw myself out of my bed, eyes wide and dilated. My heart was beating frantically, trying to claw its way out of my chest. A dream..? Nay, a nightmare. But it was all over now. The red digital letters of the alarm clock by my bed flashed the numbers at me clinically, as if in counter. '4.44AM'
The room got several degrees colder. The number of death. A morbid sign? Maybe. I turned away, but the number remained behind my eyelids, pervasive in its presence. The mechanical tick-tock as every second crawled by was unbearable.
Shivering, the striking sound of my teeth clicking against each other involuntarily scared me. It wasn't yet cold enough for teeth to chatter. Disgusted with both the atmosphere and myself, I threw the sheets over my bed, and waited, not in vain. Darkness rose to meet and claim me.
It was when I woke up the next morning, bright and fresh, my mind automatically fogging remembrance, that something occurred to me. Something that stopped me short, and mimed the cold tendrils of that same monster, wrapping like barbs around my frozen heart.
There had never been a clock by my bedside.
Mea Culpa
- the fault is mine.
You're here again, my beloved. Staring down at the letters etched mechanically into white stone. Does the mere sight of my name wound you so? Were these letters what caused your face to twist into such anguish? The thought alone is a poisoned blade to my heart.
I'm sorry.
I'd go for you, I said. I told you I'd fight for you. That I'd fought to protect you. But maybe I was blinded like all the rest. Maybe... Maybe, even though you took the time and effort to caution me so, even though you risked facing wrath to warn me so... Maybe, I was blinded like all the rest.
I believed, you know? Believed in the glorified words they sprouted, believed that we were infallible. We were regaled with tales of victory and spoils, and of bringing peace while wielding the title of heroes. I believed in those words, and I believed in our cause. So I went. And I brought you with me.
We were gallant warriors, you and I. Though, we couldn't have been more different in our battles. I was an enemy of man, slaughtering those in my path and spilling fresh blood. You, on the other hand... You fought against Death itself, with loyal and dedicated fervour. I never have, and never would again, see anything as beautiful and brave, as the sight of you leaning over a makeshift bed, face scrunched with concentration, hair bundled into a messy bun, and sweat sliding down your face, while you worked desperately, and hard, to save another life.
I saw that. I saw the pain and exhaustion you felt every time another wounded man was brought in. I saw the slump in your shoulders when you thought no one was looking. And I regretted. I regretted dragging you into this with me. And I was afraid. Because the thought of so many deaths or fatalities hadn't even occurred to me. Then I realised. That for every man who had gone back a hero, thousands had died in their place.
Perhaps I was running away from reality. Perhaps I just couldn't stand the melancholic fog that wrapped you in cold embrace. "We'll be fine," I promised, startling myself with how easily the sweet lies spilled from my lips, "We'll get through this together,"
I never went back to you again. I made my vows, and then it was time to fight, all too soon. The night before, I took the vial of face paint we had been given, and with trembling fingers, I smeared them over my chest into the vague shape of letters. Mea Culpa. The fault was mine. It was a reminder of my guilt, and a steeling of my heart. We would get through this. I had promised you that, and I had to atone. Atone for making you face the demons and ghouls of humanity firsthand. But as I went to bed, and sleep claimed me with her siren calls, I wondered if you'd ever forgive me regardless.
I know not how many days passed afterwards. Time blurred together, not stopping for a second, spilling away in a giant hourglass. I could see my life, my very self slipping away between the falling sands. Day after day, we went to battle, and I quelled the shaking of my legs, I suppressed my fear, and I fought. I fought until I could no longer recall anything else, until I didn't even know what I was fighting for, until my body and instinct went into battle like a machine, and every touch felt like a premonition of the end. Then I remembered the words I had painted over my beating heart -even if it had faded, covered by gore and grime- and my body continued to move.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have been proud, that I had survived past the first day. Perhaps I should have been glad, that I never had to go to where you were, while my comrades and fellows were carried in in droves, and less than half ever came back out. But the status quo was not to last. Nothing ever does. I knew that much, with how many compromises had been made already.
Would I live to see the end of this fighting? I didn't know. Then the answer came. It came in the form of a small black dot in the sky, that came crashing onto the Earth with heart-rending speed. It slammed into the dirt like a meteorite, and the world halted for a moment. It was almost comical, how everyone looked at it, some with eyes widening in shock and horror, and dreaded acknowledgement. Then the world was white.
Hey... Did I ever apologize? I'm sorry for coming back to the camp, beyond any hope of rescue. I had been lucky to survive. I had been further away from the weapon that ended the war. The weapon that ended so many lives. And I knew that it would end my life as well.
I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't move as I willed it. But I saw the steady stream of tears that trailed from your eyes even as you worked on a different soldier, and I felt a tingling sensation of warmth within my hand. I'm sorry for being too injured to save. I'm sorry for forcing you to choose between your feelings and duty.
I promised that we'd get through this together. That we'd both make it out together. I'm sorry it turned out to be the lie I always knew it was. You made the correct choice, my love. I was beyond hope. So please... Please stop. I never wanted to see you cry. Yet, as I raised my arm weakly, looking at the mutated stump in a sort of detached disgust, and you turned to see me, ever more of the clear liquid fell to the floor.
I didn't pass away in peace. I was thrust into Death's hold uncaringly, and its dreadful claws sank into my skin like a final sentence. I wasn't going to go to heaven. I was going to go to hell, in torment and agony, being dragged like a sack of flesh and bones every step of the way. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scream ever so loudly, or to bleed out all over the room. I didn't mean to show you this repulsive sight, nor have you feel as if the guilt would tear you to pieces.
The war was over. The battles and fighting were over. I remember being unable to let go, as I clung on to you ever so desperately. I know you couldn't see me. I was, after all, but one of the many restless spirits wandering about aimlessly. But I stayed with you nonetheless.
I'm so, so sorry. It wasn't my intention to make you have to go through the rows of names and nondescript stones. It wasn't my intention, for you to have to spend days just to find my grave, among the hundreds of thousands of others. I'm sorry you had to feel obliged to visit my grave. I'm sorry for leaving yet another scar on your soul, like the many others which wound you. I broke my promise. I'm sorry.
Mea culpa. The fault is mine. As I see you kneel before the stone, and the tell-tale liquid welling up in stormy eyes again, my still heart thumps weakly in protest. After all, the blame rested solely on me. So please... Forgive yourself. And if you could find it within your scarred heart.. Then please.. Please forgive me.
I never meant to break all my promises. I never meant to reveal my words for the sweetened lies they were. I never meant to make you cry. Yet I did. But still.. The least I could do.. Would be to always watch over you...
- the fault is mine.
You're here again, my beloved. Staring down at the letters etched mechanically into white stone. Does the mere sight of my name wound you so? Were these letters what caused your face to twist into such anguish? The thought alone is a poisoned blade to my heart.
I'm sorry.
I'd go for you, I said. I told you I'd fight for you. That I'd fought to protect you. But maybe I was blinded like all the rest. Maybe... Maybe, even though you took the time and effort to caution me so, even though you risked facing wrath to warn me so... Maybe, I was blinded like all the rest.
I believed, you know? Believed in the glorified words they sprouted, believed that we were infallible. We were regaled with tales of victory and spoils, and of bringing peace while wielding the title of heroes. I believed in those words, and I believed in our cause. So I went. And I brought you with me.
We were gallant warriors, you and I. Though, we couldn't have been more different in our battles. I was an enemy of man, slaughtering those in my path and spilling fresh blood. You, on the other hand... You fought against Death itself, with loyal and dedicated fervour. I never have, and never would again, see anything as beautiful and brave, as the sight of you leaning over a makeshift bed, face scrunched with concentration, hair bundled into a messy bun, and sweat sliding down your face, while you worked desperately, and hard, to save another life.
I saw that. I saw the pain and exhaustion you felt every time another wounded man was brought in. I saw the slump in your shoulders when you thought no one was looking. And I regretted. I regretted dragging you into this with me. And I was afraid. Because the thought of so many deaths or fatalities hadn't even occurred to me. Then I realised. That for every man who had gone back a hero, thousands had died in their place.
Perhaps I was running away from reality. Perhaps I just couldn't stand the melancholic fog that wrapped you in cold embrace. "We'll be fine," I promised, startling myself with how easily the sweet lies spilled from my lips, "We'll get through this together,"
I never went back to you again. I made my vows, and then it was time to fight, all too soon. The night before, I took the vial of face paint we had been given, and with trembling fingers, I smeared them over my chest into the vague shape of letters. Mea Culpa. The fault was mine. It was a reminder of my guilt, and a steeling of my heart. We would get through this. I had promised you that, and I had to atone. Atone for making you face the demons and ghouls of humanity firsthand. But as I went to bed, and sleep claimed me with her siren calls, I wondered if you'd ever forgive me regardless.
I know not how many days passed afterwards. Time blurred together, not stopping for a second, spilling away in a giant hourglass. I could see my life, my very self slipping away between the falling sands. Day after day, we went to battle, and I quelled the shaking of my legs, I suppressed my fear, and I fought. I fought until I could no longer recall anything else, until I didn't even know what I was fighting for, until my body and instinct went into battle like a machine, and every touch felt like a premonition of the end. Then I remembered the words I had painted over my beating heart -even if it had faded, covered by gore and grime- and my body continued to move.
In retrospect, perhaps I should have been proud, that I had survived past the first day. Perhaps I should have been glad, that I never had to go to where you were, while my comrades and fellows were carried in in droves, and less than half ever came back out. But the status quo was not to last. Nothing ever does. I knew that much, with how many compromises had been made already.
Would I live to see the end of this fighting? I didn't know. Then the answer came. It came in the form of a small black dot in the sky, that came crashing onto the Earth with heart-rending speed. It slammed into the dirt like a meteorite, and the world halted for a moment. It was almost comical, how everyone looked at it, some with eyes widening in shock and horror, and dreaded acknowledgement. Then the world was white.
Hey... Did I ever apologize? I'm sorry for coming back to the camp, beyond any hope of rescue. I had been lucky to survive. I had been further away from the weapon that ended the war. The weapon that ended so many lives. And I knew that it would end my life as well.
I couldn't feel my body. I couldn't move as I willed it. But I saw the steady stream of tears that trailed from your eyes even as you worked on a different soldier, and I felt a tingling sensation of warmth within my hand. I'm sorry for being too injured to save. I'm sorry for forcing you to choose between your feelings and duty.
I promised that we'd get through this together. That we'd both make it out together. I'm sorry it turned out to be the lie I always knew it was. You made the correct choice, my love. I was beyond hope. So please... Please stop. I never wanted to see you cry. Yet, as I raised my arm weakly, looking at the mutated stump in a sort of detached disgust, and you turned to see me, ever more of the clear liquid fell to the floor.
I didn't pass away in peace. I was thrust into Death's hold uncaringly, and its dreadful claws sank into my skin like a final sentence. I wasn't going to go to heaven. I was going to go to hell, in torment and agony, being dragged like a sack of flesh and bones every step of the way. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scream ever so loudly, or to bleed out all over the room. I didn't mean to show you this repulsive sight, nor have you feel as if the guilt would tear you to pieces.
The war was over. The battles and fighting were over. I remember being unable to let go, as I clung on to you ever so desperately. I know you couldn't see me. I was, after all, but one of the many restless spirits wandering about aimlessly. But I stayed with you nonetheless.
I'm so, so sorry. It wasn't my intention to make you have to go through the rows of names and nondescript stones. It wasn't my intention, for you to have to spend days just to find my grave, among the hundreds of thousands of others. I'm sorry you had to feel obliged to visit my grave. I'm sorry for leaving yet another scar on your soul, like the many others which wound you. I broke my promise. I'm sorry.
Mea culpa. The fault is mine. As I see you kneel before the stone, and the tell-tale liquid welling up in stormy eyes again, my still heart thumps weakly in protest. After all, the blame rested solely on me. So please... Forgive yourself. And if you could find it within your scarred heart.. Then please.. Please forgive me.
I never meant to break all my promises. I never meant to reveal my words for the sweetened lies they were. I never meant to make you cry. Yet I did. But still.. The least I could do.. Would be to always watch over you...
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