[ (I said he was hammering in the original tag and now I had to learn at what point he'd be able to stop and do something else quickly so I did this to myself. I am so sorry.)
Muramasa is at the anvil, a glowing billet of metal clasped securely in a pair of tongs. Each pound of his hammer sends sparks flying as he works an invisible impurity out of the metal, the small pool of water on the anvil that exploding into steam with each strike. Unlike before, when they'd been working on repairs, Muramasa's presence fills the whole space. He's in his element, working metal instead of wood, the world's pulse feeding magical power into his smithy and his contract from Rin keeping his reserves at full strength. This is how Senji Muramasa is supposed to exist, hard at work with the raging heat of a forge beside him and a bloom of metal in hand.
It certainly feels better than the last encounter, though Muramasa doesn't hold anything against Raidou — he'd felt it too, hadn't he? The spike of fear when he'd looked the kaiju in the eyes. It's all water under the bridge, flowing on with the past. He doesn't hold onto it.
Instead, he's just glad he gets to coerce Raidou into sitting still, for at least a little while. ]
I was hoping you'd stop by — go take a seat, I'll be done in a minute.
[ Past him, a short step leads up into the main room of the building attached to Muramasa's forge; it is mostly bare, save for a low table for mealtimes. The doors on the opposite side are open, pulling a cool breeze into the building, and Aventurine's cats lounge in the sunlight that creeps onto the veranda, a puddle of black fur.
(The God Emperor himself is out of sight in the bedroom, and will likely stay there for the afternoon.) ]
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Muramasa is at the anvil, a glowing billet of metal clasped securely in a pair of tongs. Each pound of his hammer sends sparks flying as he works an invisible impurity out of the metal, the small pool of water on the anvil that exploding into steam with each strike. Unlike before, when they'd been working on repairs, Muramasa's presence fills the whole space. He's in his element, working metal instead of wood, the world's pulse feeding magical power into his smithy and his contract from Rin keeping his reserves at full strength. This is how Senji Muramasa is supposed to exist, hard at work with the raging heat of a forge beside him and a bloom of metal in hand.
It certainly feels better than the last encounter, though Muramasa doesn't hold anything against Raidou — he'd felt it too, hadn't he? The spike of fear when he'd looked the kaiju in the eyes. It's all water under the bridge, flowing on with the past. He doesn't hold onto it.
Instead, he's just glad he gets to coerce Raidou into sitting still, for at least a little while. ]
I was hoping you'd stop by — go take a seat, I'll be done in a minute.
[ Past him, a short step leads up into the main room of the building attached to Muramasa's forge; it is mostly bare, save for a low table for mealtimes. The doors on the opposite side are open, pulling a cool breeze into the building, and Aventurine's cats lounge in the sunlight that creeps onto the veranda, a puddle of black fur.
(The God Emperor himself is out of sight in the bedroom, and will likely stay there for the afternoon.) ]