#whirlingfangs

silent / action starters

Sanemi was walking off his frustrations for the day, coming back from killing off a demon hoard that was terrorizing a bunch of villages. Thankfully no casualties once he showed up, but it doesn't stop his anger at this world they were in. He wants so bad to have Muzan's head in a trophy case.

What he doesn't expect is someone to have the bravery and gall to do what Inosuke is doing. Whether it was on purpose or accident, doesn't matter. Sanemi was able to brace his feet and stiffen his muscle in his upper body.

With quick precision, and instinct, he grabs the boy's arm before he fell back and twists at the hips to throw him over his shoulder. Knee pressed down on the other's chest, sword at the ready, just in case it was a demon that somehow got into the Corps.

But he didn't swipe when he saw blank eyes staring at him. Boar head?

he could still remember the pain he went through, he could still remember seeing all those eyes glaring down at him when he was pierced through the neck. the blood flowed into his veins with screams of protest that fell on deaf ears. zenitsu never wanted this, he felt his cells in his body rip apart and be put back together for what he thought was an eternity(though it was a week of agonizing pain).

at the end of it all he found himself in a rundown cabin, starving and unsure where in the world he even was when he opened his eyes. his pupils would still be of golden hue, but there was a deepened red color where his eyes use to be white. he could feel the sharpened canines with his tongue as his clawed hands came to touch his lightning scarred face.

he could hear the world around the cabin, thankful that his sense of sound hadn't been tampered with while in this transformation. in fact it had been amplified as he heard the sound of ants skittering by the cabin--or were they even that close to him? he wasn't sure, but what he could hear was the sound of feet coming straight towards where he was. was it a demon slayer or was it a demon here to collect him to take him back to wherever they were hiding out?

he could see out the window, it was getting close to daybreak, the slight rays of the sun pilfered through the curtains that he had put up to make sure that he didn't get burnt in the light.

so, when the door started to crack open, he heard the breathing of the other--knowing exactly who it was before his eyes could tell him.

Starter @whirling-fangs

Sekido was leaning against one of the concrete pillars waiting for Inosuke to arrive knowing that the brat was on his way here. It was an abandoned warehouse that Karaku and Urogi came to hang out bringing the teenager a couple times when shooting off fireworks or other stuff. Inhaling the cigarette deeply, Aizetsu had texted his eldest brother explaining the situation that the kid thought he would make money like Karaku and Urogi. Grunting before closing his eyes, he was going to show the reality to their line of work as he was still young, but if he continued down the path he needed to learn there was no turning back. Pulling out his phone, the male was making arrangements with a friend that owed him a favor in the fighting ring at the gambling den. Hearing the window slide open, he placed his away before speaking out loud which echoed. “Hey you little shit, get your ass over here now.”

@whirling-fangs

Steam curled thick as ghosts over the surface of the hot spring, clinging to skin and drifting lazily into the twilight air. Bankotsu leaned back against a smooth stone, arms stretched wide along its edge, shoulders bare and gleaming with water. The heat seeped pleasantly into old scars and across from him, half-submerged and bristling like a wet cat, was the boy he’d taken in, Inosuke, all sharp elbows and feral glares, with that tangled boar’s pelt tossed carelessly on a rock nearby.

“You know,” Bankotsu said lazily, tilting his head back to stare at the darkening sky, “Real mountain demons can hold their breath longer than any human.” The human didn’t look at him directly as he kept his tone casual, almost bored. “It’s how you tell if they’ve got strong blood. Weak lungs mean weak instincts.” The ravenette hid his grin behind the back of his wrist as he pretended to yawn. The boy’s pride was a predictable thing, volatile as gunpowder and twice as easy to spark. Bankotsu finally glanced over, watching the fierce determination gather on that young face.

"Cease your squirming, boar boy." The witch mused, though she playfully sounded exasperated. A damp cloth in hand, she cleaned his injury. It was small, but even a minor cut could fell a king.

he insisted on growing so quickly, yet kiba carried far too much inexperience still. there were times kokushibō worried in her own way, knowing he would be too apt to run headfirst into something far over his head without even thinking twice.

hopefully himiko and hikari don't pick up any bad habits...

but how does one teach something like patience to one with so little interest in learning such a thing? kokushibō is certain she'd have to trick him somehow for that to ever land.

"...you'll wear yourself out if you fuss so much."

a distracted tone from where she's sitting, watching kiba's reflection in water's surface and via eyes upon kyokokukamusari.

Kanae did not rush him.

She rose to her feet with unhurried grace, the hem of her sleeves settling as though the moment were no more dangerous than a pleasant afternoon breeze. Her smile lingered—gentle, warm—yet there was something quietly sharp behind it now, something that made the air feel thinner.

“Oh my, oh my..” she hummed softly, eyes flicking to the wooden swords in his hands. “King of the Mountain already? How ambitious.” Her gaze lifted back to his face, amusement dancing there. “I hope you don’t mind if I test how sturdy that crown really is.”

She stepped into position at last, movements smooth and economical, her sword held loosely—almost lazily—at her side. She studied him openly, not unkindly, noting the stiffness in his stance, the way his feet betrayed impatience.

“You’re glaring so hard,” Kanae added, head tilting just slightly, “I was beginning to worry you might try to scare me instead of striking.”

The smile softened, but her eyes sharpened—unmistakably that of a Hashira who had faced death more times than she could count. “If you wish to challenge me, then come,” she said gently. “I promise I’ll go easy… at least until you stop leaving yourself so open.”