Post by Hirato Murano on Apr 2, 2013 21:15:57 GMT -6
(OOC: No fighting and no Zanpakuto, please. I want this to just be a relaxing thread, ok?)
A tall form clad in only a towel broke through the steam of the onsen, glancing back and forth, his cerulean eyes moving as if searching intently for something. Apparently abandoning their search, they remained fixed in front of their bearer, washing the mist away in their oceanic depths while crimson hair burned, its fire illuminating the path to the hot spring. A smile graced the face of the man walking along the long path and a relaxing stroll replaced the graceful stride so many attributed to him. The solitary figure halted for a moment, admiring the clear blue of the sky that so closely matched the hue of his eyes. It had been quite a while since he had simply realized the beauty of the nature around him in contrast to rushing past it to his destination, ignoring his surroundings completely, only glimpsing it for a moment, only seeing a fraction of the true magnificence. Some claimed that that was the price of living a soldier's live, but Hirato recognized that it was only so if one chose for it to be.
The noble had invited his fellow Shinigami to the hot spring, free of charge because he decided to use some of the considerable amount of money he possessed for their benefit. In his mind, it was barely even significant due to the large amount still remaining in his account and the payment received every month for his position as the Captain of the 9th division. Shinigami were praised and sometimes cursed as gods of death, yet while that accusation was valid, their souls and bodies required relaxation at times, just like their human counterparts. Abilities aside, they still retained a human form, both in heart and soul. His hand moved across the scar on his chest, an excellent reminder of exactly how mortal Shinigami were, despite their technical status as gods. The Captain strolled on the path, humming softly, the echoes of his footsteps reaching far ahead of him, the twisting path seeming to continue on endlessly.
His feeble illusion was short-lived, however; soon after thinking that, the muscular form of the 9th Captain was strolling to the door to the onsen and opening it, feeling the moist, warm air immediately while he saw the steam rising from the hot waters. No one had made it there yet and in his current mood, Hirato didn't feel like waiting for anyone to appear before he relaxed in warm waters. The top half stayed above water while the rest was concealed by the warm water, a satisfied smile playing on the face of the veteran Shinigami while he splashed some water onto his face and fiery hair. His towel lay a short distance from the water, seemingly at rest. This side of his personality was rarely seen by others, but was integral to the person he had become nonetheless. For once, the man did not look stoic or somber; instead, the image of a man relaxing without a care in the world was brought to the surface, awaiting the arrival of others patiently. He realized almost in surprise that the tattoos on his forearms were now visible, the black dragons twisting and turning along the length of his arms in an exquisite dance. Above all, it was supremely irrelevant to the man, who had decided that he would explain them if he must but not if it was not requested of him. The peaceful man sighed contently, letting the warm water lull him into a state of absolute tranquility. The others would arrive when they would arrive and he would welcome them when they did, a genuine smile on his face and peace in his heart.
A tall form clad in only a towel broke through the steam of the onsen, glancing back and forth, his cerulean eyes moving as if searching intently for something. Apparently abandoning their search, they remained fixed in front of their bearer, washing the mist away in their oceanic depths while crimson hair burned, its fire illuminating the path to the hot spring. A smile graced the face of the man walking along the long path and a relaxing stroll replaced the graceful stride so many attributed to him. The solitary figure halted for a moment, admiring the clear blue of the sky that so closely matched the hue of his eyes. It had been quite a while since he had simply realized the beauty of the nature around him in contrast to rushing past it to his destination, ignoring his surroundings completely, only glimpsing it for a moment, only seeing a fraction of the true magnificence. Some claimed that that was the price of living a soldier's live, but Hirato recognized that it was only so if one chose for it to be.
The noble had invited his fellow Shinigami to the hot spring, free of charge because he decided to use some of the considerable amount of money he possessed for their benefit. In his mind, it was barely even significant due to the large amount still remaining in his account and the payment received every month for his position as the Captain of the 9th division. Shinigami were praised and sometimes cursed as gods of death, yet while that accusation was valid, their souls and bodies required relaxation at times, just like their human counterparts. Abilities aside, they still retained a human form, both in heart and soul. His hand moved across the scar on his chest, an excellent reminder of exactly how mortal Shinigami were, despite their technical status as gods. The Captain strolled on the path, humming softly, the echoes of his footsteps reaching far ahead of him, the twisting path seeming to continue on endlessly.
His feeble illusion was short-lived, however; soon after thinking that, the muscular form of the 9th Captain was strolling to the door to the onsen and opening it, feeling the moist, warm air immediately while he saw the steam rising from the hot waters. No one had made it there yet and in his current mood, Hirato didn't feel like waiting for anyone to appear before he relaxed in warm waters. The top half stayed above water while the rest was concealed by the warm water, a satisfied smile playing on the face of the veteran Shinigami while he splashed some water onto his face and fiery hair. His towel lay a short distance from the water, seemingly at rest. This side of his personality was rarely seen by others, but was integral to the person he had become nonetheless. For once, the man did not look stoic or somber; instead, the image of a man relaxing without a care in the world was brought to the surface, awaiting the arrival of others patiently. He realized almost in surprise that the tattoos on his forearms were now visible, the black dragons twisting and turning along the length of his arms in an exquisite dance. Above all, it was supremely irrelevant to the man, who had decided that he would explain them if he must but not if it was not requested of him. The peaceful man sighed contently, letting the warm water lull him into a state of absolute tranquility. The others would arrive when they would arrive and he would welcome them when they did, a genuine smile on his face and peace in his heart.