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Doji last won the day on April 6

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  1. The over seven-foot werelion rubbed and scrubbed frustratingly at the lens of his glasses. That little smudged was being a rather big cunt with its unwillingness to simply leave and cease befuddling Mototada's spectacles. "Goddamnit... " he grumbled as he took another bare-footed step before suddenly running into an accident of the bodily kind. Literally. Rightly jostled by the impact of the collision, Mototada managed to hang on to his glasses and place them back onto his face as he then looked at the spirit that had just ran into him. Looking to the front, left, and right at first, he soon looked down and locked eyes with a rather young looking spirit. The leonthrope would only manage to definitely make-out the little leprechaun's pink hair-do before suddenly having a blood vessel almost pop in his eye. Watch it... dog? DOG!? Why that little... To say that Mototada felt offended wouldn't do him justice. How DARE this walking piece of cotton candy call him that? It was borderline a slur to call those afflicted with therianthropy a wolf, dog, or any variation of the two as it generalized the countless strains of the condition into just "wolfman". Letting out a low, guttural growl, Motoada was about to loudly tell this little piece of chewed-up gum off when three gentlemen quickly approached and promptly dragged the young lad away into an alley nearby. A part of the beast spirit really wanted to just leave the little urchin to his fate. After all, whatever the whole dragging away part is about had nothing to do with him and that kid more than likely brought it upon himself. Mototada simply had better things to do than possibly saving a young spirit from being beaten up or, worse, tortured and killed for whatever offense committed which all could've been avoided if Mototada had simply intervened with that was going to happen. All for the sake of moving on and possibly just sleeping any where. He let out a long, tired sighed as he smoothly approached the entrance of the alleyway, simply ecstatic that he own mind worked against him. Standing at the entrance seemingly unnoticed by the aggressors, Motoada took the liberty of observing them first as he listened to them speak. The evident leader of the trio had tanned skin and red hair, with his only facial hair being the simple goatee he wore. He had spikey hair and physically appeared to be in his mid-late twenties. He looked stalwart and sturdy, carrying a sort of ruggedness that primarily inhabited those of the lower districts. His clothing, however, directly contrasted this. He wore an intricately and beautifully made hakama and kimono that was designed with golden leaves against a black background. The gold shined in the sunlight, causing him to glimmer while the other spirits were dressed similar. The larger and more rounder member of the trio lacked any facial hair. Rather, his head hair were cleanly curled up on his scalp while a large wart stood proudly between his eyes. His kimono and hakama were both primarily blue, depicting a rising wave in the middle of the ocean as its about to crash on a nearby ship. The last member of the trio lacked facial hair as well but rather than being overweight, he was actually very skinny. He bore a prominent, pointy nose with two beady eyes above it. His clothing, vibrantly green, showed off the trees of a jungle which were decorated with an assortment of colorful birds. Just by looking at that, it was obvious they came from a higher district. To say it mattered, though, was a bit of a stretch. Mototada, after clearing his throat, stepped forward and pointed at the boy as the angry man sneered at the child. "Hey... " he said, voice low and paws balled. "That boy said something to me and I just oh so need to correct him." the lion man pointed directly at the cotton candy boy before him. "If you could just hand him, that'd be great." WC: 676
  2. "Oh my god is that a lion?!" Ah yes, that old statement. At first it never bothered Mototada as naturally some of the denizens of Rukongai have never encountered or even believed in such things as therianthropy. The ones who have entertained the idea usually only ever heard of lycanthropy as well, often never considering there being other types of such a thing. Weregorillas, weresharks and, in Mototada's specific case, werelions. This alongside his family's self-induced exile for their "shameful display" had originally rendered the young soul as being more patient and understanding to reactions concerning him. While he still is to an extent, even he had his limits with hearing the same exclamations over and over and over again. 'Oh my god is that a lion?! Is that a lion-man over there? Is that dude mixed with a lion?' It's always the same thing! Every. Single. Time. Honestly, would it kill to at least think of something different to say? Like 'Oh shit, a lion!' or 'Good god look at him!' or something along those lines. Anything but those same, tired lines he keeps hearing every time someone who has never seen a werelion says. Didn't help that the frequency of them increases to every "better" district he goes to. With his meager residence belonging to District 72, Mototada noted that only a few people there actually commented on his appearance. Sure many still stared and spoke about him with his back-turned, but the grand majority primarily didn't care. More than likely stemming from how downright terrible it is to even live there. Mototada, musing to himself regarding this, remembered where he was. He was currently traversing District 50 of all places, thanks to his growing curiosity of the other districts and generally just being rather bored. He had heard at the all the districts become progressively less impoverished the smaller their number is and just wanted to see if it was true. So far, it seemed, what Mototada heard was just about right. So many people wore actual clothes rather than the dirty rags and patched-up garbage he was so used to seeing his home district. Not to mention, so many people wore shoes. Big sandals, little sandals, new, worn-out. Not even Mototada, who managed to acquire actually decent clothing by himself, wore any sort of footwear. To say that the tall lion-man was jealous would be a bit of an understatement. Regardless, Mototada want his exploring to go to waste. He was in an entirely new district for crying out loud! So many services that aren't available in 72 and so many new faces that lacked scars or looks of complete and utter despair! It was refreshing, to say the least. The question is, though, what to do? He didn't have much kan on him and pretty much everything here was vastly more expensive than anything that could found in any district over 65. He let out a sigh as he took off his glasses, using his haori to clean their lens as he continued to walk down the dirt road of district 50. With his eyes cast down and ignoring the looks some gave him, Mototada simply pondered to himself as to what could be there for him here. WC: 543
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