And yet some landscapes can alter drastically over the years... It is truly remarkable. Though one might wonder if that is a result of nature itself, or the beings who dwell there.
but stardust has no shame and will rain on down. give me a memshare back shakes you
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You watch the unit seeking to fulfill this mission - in order for the mission to succeed, Taira no Masakado cannot win. You stand by, a bow held in one hand and an arrow in the other.
Bodies fall one after another until finally he declares, “I am the new emperor!!”
The unit is too far - they cannot assist. Taira no Masakado lives, when history dictates that he should not.
The ground beneath your feet quakes. The world slows to a stop. All humans are frozen - until they reanimate moments later… but they hardly retain their humanity. Their words are traded for screams, anguished and distorted. Their blades are turned upon one another without care or concern. What will follow will be endless bloodshed until not one human remains on this planet - they will lead to their own destruction.
The time government has made its decision. This timeline has been lost.
☽
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You approach him.
“Who are you?” he asks, and you offer nothing more than a crescent of a smile.
“A friend,” you say, for you always introduce yourself the same way. “To those who must play a tragic role in history.”
Those who must die, for the sake of humanity. Those who must betray friends and family, for the course of the future. Those who are regarded as villains, who perform the most treacherous acts of all, because if they did not - they will destroy everything that comes after them.
Those who do not have the choice to be kind - not until you arrive.
You tell him that he will lose, but he must fight - for that is history. To even bear this message is the greatest taboo to be committed. Humans should not know of you Touken Danshi - you Sword Warriors - and instead be puppeted by strings outside their control in order to fall in line with history on their own.
(How could you accept that?)
“Do you tell everyone who must die that their fate is coming?” he questions you, but his grin is all teeth. A man backed into a corner - told his future and yet still intending to rebel.
(Good, you think. Rebel. Claim your life as your own.)
You do not answer him, and only smile instead. Though from his next laugh that follows, you imagine he must read the truth in your eyes.
“Oi… You’re too kind, Mikazuki,” he says then. And with the audacity that could only belong to a dead man walking, he tells you, “If you get too close to the losers, before long, you’ll share their fate.”
Despite what you have said, he continues to question the logic of your current system:
“What exactly is history? Old documents? Old artifacts? The fragrance of flowers, songs and poems. If something isn’t handed down, did it never exist? Of course not.”
It is a bold statement to make to you - the most beautiful blade to have never seen battle. To be so regarded as a treasure that you were kept longer than almost all else. Your existence is certain. Your mark on history is never in doubt.
But there are so many people - so many lives - that can be so easily lost.
You shake your head and begin to leave - but a thought occurs to you. A flash of a face appears in your mind’s eye… and you remember of this bold young sword. Suishinshi Masahide.
‘I don’t know how much I can do, but back then, Mikazuki Munechika’s eyes shone with a sadness. If possible, I would like to save him.’
To be saved… Is such a fate in reach for you?
Something in your chest aches - even now, you are still cared for. Even now, no matter the blood upon your blade and the rebellion in your heart.
How does kindness always manage to cut so deeply?
“‘Why did you rebel and name yourself the New Emperor.’ … Someday, someone will appear to ask you that question,” you tell Taira no Masakado as you turn to leave. “When that time comes, please answer them honestly.”
This is what little you can do.
Even this much - you have nearly been broken for it before, and you imagine that you will not stop until you are broken for good. But you are Mikazuki Munechika, and in the darkness of the ties of fate and tragedy, isn’t the little light of the crescent moon better than nothing at all?
☽
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You watch the unit seeking to fulfill this mission - in order for the mission to succeed, Taira no Masakado cannot win. You stand by, a bow held in one hand and an arrow in the other.
Bodies fall one after another until finally he declares, “I am the new emperor!!”
This time, you loose your arrow. It finds its target upon his skull.
I don't think there's strictly a right or wrong answer. I would put the majority first, but it'd be rather bold to claim that my values are the be-all and end-all.
[said gently. they don't seem to judge mikazuki for the path he chooses, either.
and then, another memory plays:
She's dying in your arms. The only person who's ever cared about you, ever been kind to you. Death is something so commonplace in this society, you know this, and yet your heart is shattering in pieces.
You beg her not to go, not when you haven't even done anything to repay her for all that she's done for you. In response, she smiles. She tells you, now that you're all grown-up, you don't need her to look after you anymore.
And then, she disappears into pieces, disintegrating into the wind.
You're hardly left with time to grieve. The conflict rages around you, and dimly, you're aware--this is the end of the human race. But as self-centered as it may be right now, you can't bring yourself to focus on that.
Not that your mother, who just murdered --------, would let you, either. She grabs your arm in an attempt to lift you up from where you were staring at the ground, and she yells at you to stop crying and to follow her. -------- is gone, and she is "her" now. But she isn't--never will be.
A man steps in to defend you. Rarely has anyone ever, except for the mother figure you just lost (and of all people, it would be someone you're terrified of), so you barely know how to react. Your mother isn't intimidated, however, having taken on --------'s power. Even her appearance is hers, as she transforms before your eyes: what was once a comforting face now becoming a source of fear.
The man warns you that what she has done--stealing this identity--will destroy her physically. She doesn't listen, and instead, she blames you. You ruined everything, and so you must take responsibility, she says. If it weren't for you, she wouldn't have had to kill --------. As frightened as you are, you can't even muster up any words.
Then, suddenly, the chaos from the conflict around reaches here. Flames blaze, immediately disintegrating your mother, while the man attempts to shield you. Even so, the fire is evidently taking its toll on him; neither of you will survive like this.
But then -------- appears again, as she begins to dispel the fire. It's not your mother, who would only take on that form to torment you. It's her, truly her.
And gradually, you understand. This is a dream. Some of these events never happened. The rest, though--these are memories you lost. And as the pieces click in place, you start to wake up from the illusion, in more ways than one. The nightmare is finally over.]
mikazuki is quiet, silent as he watches them, understands them. (to a degree, recognizes them.) he turns to face cetus instead of admiring the wiwaldi garden.
he reaches out, his fingers brushing against the shoulder of the uniform.]
they're quiet for a moment, not movin away from mikazuki when he touches them. and then, they hold up a finger against their veil, as though making a shushing sound.
their voice becomes clearer, no longer muffled—and mikazuki will hear now that it almost sounds like one inside his head, rather than one heard through his ears normally.]
... I think you know what my answer to that will be. [then, once again, their voice takes on that odd, muffled quality.] Of course, that's based purely off what you know of "Cetus", who's told you things like how they don't know much about happiness—or hobbies—and they're ambivalent towards flowers. Someone who wouldn't know much about time or systems that dictate your fate either, as they've said before.
to some degree, he had already guessed some time ago. even knowing that there was likely a veneer of falsehood between them, it was not enough to deter the sense of familiarity. even still, it felt like something too fragile to name - to call direct attention to, and so mikazuki did not.
but the sound of a voice inside his head, brief as it is, manages to make his expression soften terribly. ah.
his hand lifts from the shoulder of the uniform, upward toward the veil - though he remains just centimeters away from truly making contact with it. but he will reach nonetheless. so close, and yet so very far.]
I do.
[even if there is so much he'd like to say. even if 'ah, i missed you' is so clear in his gaze.]
I do understand... and yet it will not stop me from always wishing for better for you.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And yet some landscapes can alter drastically over the years... It is truly remarkable. Though one might wonder if that is a result of nature itself, or the beings who dwell there.
[there's always something changing...]
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[through the doors to wiwaldi they go!!
but stardust has no shame and will rain on down. give me a memshare back shakes you
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You watch the unit seeking to fulfill this mission - in order for the mission to succeed, Taira no Masakado cannot win. You stand by, a bow held in one hand and an arrow in the other.
Bodies fall one after another until finally he declares, “I am the new emperor!!”
The unit is too far - they cannot assist. Taira no Masakado lives, when history dictates that he should not.
The ground beneath your feet quakes. The world slows to a stop. All humans are frozen - until they reanimate moments later… but they hardly retain their humanity. Their words are traded for screams, anguished and distorted. Their blades are turned upon one another without care or concern. What will follow will be endless bloodshed until not one human remains on this planet - they will lead to their own destruction.
The time government has made its decision. This timeline has been lost.
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You approach him.
“Who are you?” he asks, and you offer nothing more than a crescent of a smile.
“A friend,” you say, for you always introduce yourself the same way. “To those who must play a tragic role in history.”
Those who must die, for the sake of humanity. Those who must betray friends and family, for the course of the future. Those who are regarded as villains, who perform the most treacherous acts of all, because if they did not - they will destroy everything that comes after them.
Those who do not have the choice to be kind - not until you arrive.
You tell him that he will lose, but he must fight - for that is history. To even bear this message is the greatest taboo to be committed. Humans should not know of you Touken Danshi - you Sword Warriors - and instead be puppeted by strings outside their control in order to fall in line with history on their own.
(How could you accept that?)
“Do you tell everyone who must die that their fate is coming?” he questions you, but his grin is all teeth. A man backed into a corner - told his future and yet still intending to rebel.
(Good, you think. Rebel. Claim your life as your own.)
You do not answer him, and only smile instead. Though from his next laugh that follows, you imagine he must read the truth in your eyes.
“Oi… You’re too kind, Mikazuki,” he says then. And with the audacity that could only belong to a dead man walking, he tells you, “If you get too close to the losers, before long, you’ll share their fate.”
Despite what you have said, he continues to question the logic of your current system:
“What exactly is history? Old documents? Old artifacts? The fragrance of flowers, songs and poems. If something isn’t handed down, did it never exist? Of course not.”
It is a bold statement to make to you - the most beautiful blade to have never seen battle. To be so regarded as a treasure that you were kept longer than almost all else. Your existence is certain. Your mark on history is never in doubt.
But there are so many people - so many lives - that can be so easily lost.
You shake your head and begin to leave - but a thought occurs to you. A flash of a face appears in your mind’s eye… and you remember of this bold young sword. Suishinshi Masahide.
‘I don’t know how much I can do, but back then, Mikazuki Munechika’s eyes shone with a sadness. If possible, I would like to save him.’
To be saved… Is such a fate in reach for you?
Something in your chest aches - even now, you are still cared for. Even now, no matter the blood upon your blade and the rebellion in your heart.
How does kindness always manage to cut so deeply?
“‘Why did you rebel and name yourself the New Emperor.’ … Someday, someone will appear to ask you that question,” you tell Taira no Masakado as you turn to leave. “When that time comes, please answer them honestly.”
This is what little you can do.
Even this much - you have nearly been broken for it before, and you imagine that you will not stop until you are broken for good. But you are Mikazuki Munechika, and in the darkness of the ties of fate and tragedy, isn’t the little light of the crescent moon better than nothing at all?
It is March 25th. The year is 940.
Taira no Masakado begins his siege upon the central government. There are a great number of theories as to why he pursued his rebellion. Some believe it to be to protect the common folk against tyranny. Others to say that it was done to gain independence. He is a fearsome warrior, with enough strength to rival even you Sword Warriors. He is gallant, and awe-inspiring. Any would be honored to have him for a master.
You watch the unit seeking to fulfill this mission - in order for the mission to succeed, Taira no Masakado cannot win. You stand by, a bow held in one hand and an arrow in the other.
Bodies fall one after another until finally he declares, “I am the new emperor!!”
This time, you loose your arrow. It finds its target upon his skull.
“Goodbye, my friend.”
History is restored. ]
no subject
cetus observes in silence. and then, once all is said and done, they say, simply—]
... You've certainly taken on a troublesome burden onto your heart.
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hence his slow smile]
Oh? Do you think so?
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Well, ultimately that's up to you to decide.
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Is it better to keep after what is simple?
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I don't think there's strictly a right or wrong answer. I would put the majority first, but it'd be rather bold to claim that my values are the be-all and end-all.
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And you would choose to protect the greatest number of individuals first?
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Your own survival? [sounds fake and not like a jan character] Or something else?
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It'd be nice to be able to protect everyone, but I'm afraid I don't have it in me to risk everything else that's important unless I have to.
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It is a steady way to live.
[he admires it, even if he knows that it is so far from his own way of being]
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[said gently. they don't seem to judge mikazuki for the path he chooses, either.
and then, another memory plays:
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mikazuki is quiet, silent as he watches them, understands them. (to a degree, recognizes them.) he turns to face cetus instead of admiring the wiwaldi garden.
he reaches out, his fingers brushing against the shoulder of the uniform.]
... are you alright?
no subject
they're quiet for a moment, not movin away from mikazuki when he touches them. and then, they hold up a finger against their veil, as though making a shushing sound.
their voice becomes clearer, no longer muffled—and mikazuki will hear now that it almost sounds like one inside his head, rather than one heard through his ears normally.]
... I think you know what my answer to that will be. [then, once again, their voice takes on that odd, muffled quality.] Of course, that's based purely off what you know of "Cetus", who's told you things like how they don't know much about happiness—or hobbies—and they're ambivalent towards flowers. Someone who wouldn't know much about time or systems that dictate your fate either, as they've said before.
[softly,]
I'm sure you understand.
no subject
he isn't really surprised.
to some degree, he had already guessed some time ago. even knowing that there was likely a veneer of falsehood between them, it was not enough to deter the sense of familiarity. even still, it felt like something too fragile to name - to call direct attention to, and so mikazuki did not.
but the sound of a voice inside his head, brief as it is, manages to make his expression soften terribly. ah.
his hand lifts from the shoulder of the uniform, upward toward the veil - though he remains just centimeters away from truly making contact with it. but he will reach nonetheless. so close, and yet so very far.]
I do.
[even if there is so much he'd like to say. even if 'ah, i missed you' is so clear in his gaze.]
I do understand... and yet it will not stop me from always wishing for better for you.
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cetus: flowers
mikazuki: do you like flowers
cetus: .............. no
there's a bit of a smile in their voice when they speak.]
As gracious as always. [...] You really are the bane of my existence sometimes.
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[a little more playful…
he lets the back of his fingers brush against the veil before he retracts his hand]
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Ask rather difficult questions.
[questions that made it difficult not to reveal potentially identifying opinions. they reach up, briefly, to make sure the veil's still in place.]
You really don't let up in your efforts to get to know people.
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[it’s really like
he’s been given silent permission to be shameless now]
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[terrible.]
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[now he’s just assuming things]
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That's quite the presumption to make about someone you've only known for a few weeks, I think.
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Oh yes... Do forgive me. I have simply been reminded of a dear friend... someone that I had wished very much to meet again.
You'll have to excuse the rambling recollections of this old man...
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