Happy Monster Island
Your Samurai compound is really a sketchy bar filled to capacity by the three other people here. None of your protectors heard you come in. They are a red-nosed drunk busy haranguing a cup of mead, a sleepstrumming minstrel girl and the hindquarters of the bartender/patron. You're not sure but you don't think any of them are carrying swords. If she followed you here you can always use the fisherman as bait and hit her over the head with the biwa(banjo). Oh well at least in a place like this you don't have to bow or have honour or anything. The stench of vomity sawdust alone should be enough to keep all vengeful spirits at bay.
You give yourself a second to breathe and think about what happened, dropping the alarm to yellow. You're not sure what you're basing this on but you get the feeling the ghost can only scare those that get too close to her sign, rather like a pitbull chained to a post. There's also no way in hell you're going to leave this bar before sunrise. You'll just have to explain that to the nice man without mentioning faceless ghosts. It's not that he won't believe you saw a monster it's just that he won't believe you saw a monster that wasn't cute and cuddly.
Your shaking jelly legs take you to the counter where you grab a stool that gives you a view of the entrance. The bartender is still rooting around in a crate so to get his attention you ask him can you sit at the bar. What dy'a want he says by way of welcome. You request one bottle of warm sake, in English, not caring that this will make you sound like a silly caucasian. The bartender visually inspects you, you cringe to think of the state you're in, colour drained with fright and exertion, bits of the forest still stuck in your hair and clothes, he waits for an explanation. You tell him you saw something in the forest that frightened you and you ran all the way here. A monster? He asks disinterestedly. Uhuh. Was it a Tanuki? You ignore the insult a Tanuki is an innocous racoon creature with a giant ballsack. No it wasn't a Tanuki it looked almost human but...What? There was something wrong with it's face I dunno. Hmmm. The bartender makes a blindfold with his hand then like in a game of peekabo he brings it down, wiping off his eyes and nose and mouth as he does so. You scream. Did it look like this? You don't have to turn around to know the other two have performed the same magic trick. You feel unnaturally strong hands gripping your shoulders, the bartender leans in as if to give you a kiss. A coating of darkness covers everything, you let it...
You give yourself a second to breathe and think about what happened, dropping the alarm to yellow. You're not sure what you're basing this on but you get the feeling the ghost can only scare those that get too close to her sign, rather like a pitbull chained to a post. There's also no way in hell you're going to leave this bar before sunrise. You'll just have to explain that to the nice man without mentioning faceless ghosts. It's not that he won't believe you saw a monster it's just that he won't believe you saw a monster that wasn't cute and cuddly.
Your shaking jelly legs take you to the counter where you grab a stool that gives you a view of the entrance. The bartender is still rooting around in a crate so to get his attention you ask him can you sit at the bar. What dy'a want he says by way of welcome. You request one bottle of warm sake, in English, not caring that this will make you sound like a silly caucasian. The bartender visually inspects you, you cringe to think of the state you're in, colour drained with fright and exertion, bits of the forest still stuck in your hair and clothes, he waits for an explanation. You tell him you saw something in the forest that frightened you and you ran all the way here. A monster? He asks disinterestedly. Uhuh. Was it a Tanuki? You ignore the insult a Tanuki is an innocous racoon creature with a giant ballsack. No it wasn't a Tanuki it looked almost human but...What? There was something wrong with it's face I dunno. Hmmm. The bartender makes a blindfold with his hand then like in a game of peekabo he brings it down, wiping off his eyes and nose and mouth as he does so. You scream. Did it look like this? You don't have to turn around to know the other two have performed the same magic trick. You feel unnaturally strong hands gripping your shoulders, the bartender leans in as if to give you a kiss. A coating of darkness covers everything, you let it...
