Red Path. [ Fellow passengers might quickly come to recognize Mitsunari as That Guy-- you know, the jackass who tossed his lei on the ground, then stalled the lifejacket fitting process for everyone by bluntly asking what the point of a "life" vest is to the dead? And then spent a full minute in a staring contest with a woman with no eyes before finally putting it on? He didn't even thank her for showing him how to do it. Maybe that's even why someone would choose to approach him.
He also just naturally stands out with his intense, gloomy aura and equally edgy spiked armour. Even his hair tapers on a sharp point. Japanese history buffs might even recognize the crest embossed on his chestplate.
He stands on the deck after the presentation, glowering sullenly at the watery expanse for quite some time before he withdraws to the room he woke up in. He doesn't reemerge until the voices start. ]
Blue Path. [ Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
Shuuut UP.
Mitsunari can't pinpoint where the voices are coming from, but he knows right away that they irritate him to no end. Some gaggle of idiots sure thinks they're funny.
It doesn't take very long for him to snap at thin air when the voices follow him into the halls. He spreads his arms wide in exasperation. ]
So be it! Go ahead and part the sea itself if you wish me gone! I will gladly walk away from this accursed wreck.
[ His sarcasm is just as barbed as the rest of him.
Truth is, Mitsunari has already come to the conclusion that this is some vessel for lost souls, an eternal punishment for those who had one job and failed miserably beyond repentance. He accepts that he'll be miserable here. He deserves it. But can't he at least be tormented in a way that makes sense?
He whirls on the next poor soul he happens to come across, getting all up in their face with a scowl on his. ]
You, tell me-- Whose voice is that? And how much do they value their tongue?
[ That sword he carries at all times, though sheathed, isn't just for show. ]
Mystery Path [ Choose your own adventure! Maybe someone particularly friendly/bold/foolish wants to chat him up. Maybe he has a roommate. Maybe someone finds him struggling to force down some sushi rice at the Mikabo because he finally got hungry but he's also seasick. Maybe he cuts down a chair flying at somebody's head in tge nick of time-- not to save them, but for the 1.2 seconds of stress relief it provides him. Or maybe you have something else in mind. Go nuts. ]
Mitsunari Ishida | Sengoku Basara
[ Fellow passengers might quickly come to recognize Mitsunari as That Guy-- you know, the jackass who tossed his lei on the ground, then stalled the lifejacket fitting process for everyone by bluntly asking what the point of a "life" vest is to the dead? And then spent a full minute in a staring contest with a woman with no eyes before finally putting it on? He didn't even thank her for showing him how to do it. Maybe that's even why someone would choose to approach him.
He also just naturally stands out with his intense, gloomy aura and equally edgy spiked armour. Even his hair tapers on a sharp point. Japanese history buffs might even recognize the crest embossed on his chestplate.
He stands on the deck after the presentation, glowering sullenly at the watery expanse for quite some time before he withdraws to the room he woke up in. He doesn't reemerge until the voices start. ]
Blue Path.
[ Get out.
Get out.
Get out.
Shuuut UP.
Mitsunari can't pinpoint where the voices are coming from, but he knows right away that they irritate him to no end. Some gaggle of idiots sure thinks they're funny.
It doesn't take very long for him to snap at thin air when the voices follow him into the halls. He spreads his arms wide in exasperation. ]
So be it! Go ahead and part the sea itself if you wish me gone! I will gladly walk away from this accursed wreck.
[ His sarcasm is just as barbed as the rest of him.
Truth is, Mitsunari has already come to the conclusion that this is some vessel for lost souls, an eternal punishment for those who had one job and failed miserably beyond repentance. He accepts that he'll be miserable here. He deserves it. But can't he at least be tormented in a way that makes sense?
He whirls on the next poor soul he happens to come across, getting all up in their face with a scowl on his. ]
You, tell me-- Whose voice is that? And how much do they value their tongue?
[ That sword he carries at all times, though sheathed, isn't just for show. ]
Mystery Path
[ Choose your own adventure! Maybe someone particularly friendly/bold/foolish wants to chat him up. Maybe he has a roommate. Maybe someone finds him struggling to force down some sushi rice at the Mikabo because he finally got hungry but he's also seasick. Maybe he cuts down a chair flying at somebody's head in tge nick of time-- not to save them, but for the 1.2 seconds of stress relief it provides him. Or maybe you have something else in mind. Go nuts. ]