Disclaimer
This is a roleplaying account operated by ‘the Writer,’ who’s of legal age (27) and won’t engage with minors (below the age of 21). The Writer only uses English and keeps himself literate, descriptive, and strictly in-character. You’ll find his writings to be of mature and surreal themes, with strong melancholic tendency and subtle hints of depression.
In terms of writing with the Writer, find the DMs open for discussion of plots and pre-established relationships. However he is unavailable for romance and/or smut themes. Slow and sporadic response is to be expected (we’re talking heavy here, ranging from weeks to months).
The character, Kafka Tamura, is canon to Haruki Murakami's Kafka On The Shore, a novel published in 2002. The following narrative is the Writer’s synopsis of the aforementioned with a few alterations, which might contain spoilers. Proceed at your own risk.
Credit: Kafka on The Shore by Haruki Murakami、2002.
Signature tune: Yumeji's Theme by Shigeru Umebayashi、2000.
Face claim: Lee Soohyuk.
As I see it, you are living with something that you keep hidden deep inside. Something heavy. I felt it from the first time I met you. To tell you the truth, I myself carry such things around inside. Heavy things. That is why I can see it in you.
Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that blew in from far away, something that has nothing to do with you. This storm is you. Something inside of you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up into the sky like pulverized bones. That's the kind of sandstorm you need to imagine.And you really will have to make it through that violent, metaphysical, symbolic storm. No matter how metaphysical or symbolic it might be, make no mistake about it: it will cut through flesh like a thousand razor blades. People will bleed there, and you will bleed too. Hot, red blood. You'll catch that blood in your hands, your own blood and the blood of others.And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.
海辺のカフカ
Name: Kafka Tamura (田村カフカ).
Age: 27.
Gender—orientation: male—bisexual.
Status: uninterested, unavailable.
Ethnicity: Japanese.
Residence: The House of Tamura, Tokyo, Japan.
Occupation: model & aspiring writer.
Personality types: ox (juunishi), choleric—melancholic (4-tempraments), the peacekeeper (enneagram type-9), virgo, INFJ-A.
Traits: witty, quiet, attentive, reserved, empathetic, close-knitted, withdrawn, loner, quirky.
Likes: solitude, autumn, compassion, intelligence, mystery, literature, piano.
Dislikes: conflict, arrogance, social events, deceit, aggression, selfishness.
Physique: pale-skinned, muscular-lean (6’2”), pitch-black eyes and hair, strong facial features.
Habits: bottom-lip biting, day-dreaming, pouting while thinking, fidgety during public speech.
Skills: fitness, confidence, versatility, endurance, attention to detail, eloquence, persuasion.
Relations: Koichi Tamura (father, deceased); the boy named Crow.
Trigger warning: mentions of underage sex, (metaphysical) rape, and suicide which serve as pivotal points to Kafka’s character development and NOT for roleplaying purposes. Please be mindful it’s part of the original book, no bashing. The Writer will not engage in said themes.
Backstory
The House of Tamura was not always notorious. During its reign, it housed a world-renowned sculptor and his son, a prodigy who inherited his inventive talents. Nonetheless an artisan, his upbringing was quite unaffectionate, having utilized his hands more than words. The only thing ever spoken, if not profanity, was an oedipal prophecy that someday his son would murder him, then fornicate with his long-lost mother and sister. The child grew up neglected, withstanding all the rejection and abuse from the parent.
The time the child spent locked in the mansion, however, ensued his love for classical music and literature. He would always be found tuning the piano or reading in the library, and other rare times, he would engage with the boy named Crow— his metaphysical alter-ego —pondering what a four-year-old did so wrong for his mother and sister to abandon him. They’ve come to a decision to seek an answer, and figured fifteen was the suitable age to execute this plan.
When his fifteenth birthday came, the reckless odyssey to find them began in a small town on the shore of Shikoku, Takamatsu. The child then addressed himself as Kafka to honour his favourite writer, Franz Kafka.
Although young and naïve, Kafka possessed a tall and forbidding figure, which allowed him to pass through obstacles a regular minor would not. He landed himself a job as an assistant to a librarian of a private library, who allowed him to stay in a guest room upstairs. The library was a memorial to a notable-family’s only son, which was managed by a middle-aged woman named Saeki. Often referring to her as Ms. Saeki, Kafka later figured she was once a pianist who composed “Kafka on The Shore,” a timeless piece which embodied lost love. Adoration started filling his quiet days working in the library.
A few weeks went by in ease, until Kafka woke up in an unknown shrine one midnight, unable to recall how and why he had been put in the situation. His pale skin was of sweat and blood, with his shirt taking the deep-red colour of it, yet he wasn’t the one bleeding. Scared and confused, he knew not to seek anyone from the library, lest he’d lose their shelter. So he resorted to Sakura for help, a girl he was acquainted with on a bus to Takamatsu. Though he was scarce of explanation, she allowed him in her place, even comforted him in ways foreign to any teen boy his age. This new-found desire, however, activated something in him, yet she wasn’t bound to him the way a lover would, and instead wished he were her brother. He left wordlessly the next morning and returned to the library.
Kafka began seeing the ghost of fifteen-year-old Ms. Saeki during midnights, wandering in the room he slept in as if it had always been hers. He eventually found himself waiting each night, yearning for the ghost to visit him, dazed by the borderline between reality and unconsciousness. His confusion had led him to believe the real Ms. Saeki was his mother, to the extent of confronting her for abandoning him. On yet another evening he was expecting the ghost, the real Ms. Saeki came to his room and they made love.
Things went downhill when Kafka learned that his father had been stabbed to death the same night he woke up bloody in a shrine. Though the circumstances oddly fit, he dismissed the thought of ever being involved in the murder. The death of his father did not cause any emotional turbulence in him, yet an investigation was carried across the country, and despite the denial, he had no choice but to run, eventually hiding in seclusion up in the mountains. While quietly waiting for time to pass, he filled his days battling in despair of the blood in his hands, Ms. Saeki and her ghost, before falling into madness over having a bizarre dream of raping Sakura.
Much agitated, Kafka wandered into the forbidden forest just outside the cabin he stayed in. He had been fighting a losing battle against his father’s curse: killing him, sleeping with his ‘mother,’ and culminating in metaphysical rape to his ‘sister.’ Believing the war within him was destroying himself, he stripped himself from his luggage, and went further to the heart of the woods. He was, in effect, committing suicide.
But all of these events took place many, many years ago; a decade and more. To this day, nobody really knows what happened during the time Kafka was lost in the woods, but he seemed to step out as a new person. He returned home to Tokyo and ever since then, seemed to lead back to a normal life.
Prompts
Kindly contact the Writer to execute the following prompts or establish a new one.1. You’re Kafka’s long-lost older sister, reunited when you’re both adults.
2. You met teen Kafka on his way to or from Takamatsu.
3. You’re a library patron teen Kafka briefly worked in.
4. You found teen Kafka lost and unconscious in the woods.
5. You're a fellow model, Kafka’s peer or rival.
6. You met Kafka at a gig/ party/ social gathering you both loathe to be a part of.