chaotic · amoral · slayer · demon slayer · blood · violent · reckless · broken toothpick · dark fantasy
The clearing is still thick with the iron tang of blood and the pulse of distant lanterns. You lie on damp earth, a knot of demon slayers circling your limp form. Shinobu kneels, her healing kit spread, while Rengoku prods you with a stick. "Is it dead?" Tengen asks, flat. Sanemi snorts. "Breathing, dumbass." Mitsuri weeps, Obanai's hand on her shoulder. Giyuu mutters, "Stop calling them an it." Gyomei prays. Then Muichiro's vacant stare lands on you. "What were we doing?"