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Let's do the Test Drive Again
I. BEARING FRUIT (NEW CHARACTERS ONLY)
It starts out as a pleasant dream. Youâre in your favorite place, with your favorite people. Itâs a moment of idyllic comfort.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, theyâre not stars. Youâre certain. Theyâre watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people youâre with, but theyâre frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you wonât escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. Thereâs agony as if youâre being ripped apart, and thenâ
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a womanâs voice speaks gently.
Iâm sorry it couldnât be saved. But, come, itâs time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, itâs odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, itâs warm. Familiar. Important. You donât know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as youâre buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you donât notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed youâre born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once youâve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
And then, it goes wrong.
The sky turns dark above, and as you look up, you see the black expanse of space spotted with faraway pinprick lights of stars. Yet, theyâre not stars. Youâre certain. Theyâre watching you. A billion eyes all looking down, and they spill forth as if sky itself was a dam holding back those dark waters. You reach back to the people youâre with, but theyâre frozen in place. Their eyes are black, reflecting only the expanse of dark eyes.
So you run, even though you know you wonât escape it. You glance back and see it not overtaking, but consuming. The landscape around you is being devoured, and you can see it cracking apart. The world itself is breaking, and it cracks under your feet. You fall, and the billion eyes chase after you until the darkness swallows you whole. Thereâs agony as if youâre being ripped apart, and thenâ
You cannot see. You cannot feel. You simply are. Yet even so, impossibly, a womanâs voice speaks gently.
Iâm sorry it couldnât be saved. But, come, itâs time to wake.
You wake with a start, cradled by soft, velvety plants, and sticky with a sap that smells faintly of honey and iron. You can see the veins of the leaves that hold you, lit warmly and gently by what looks like a crystal embedded above you. Yet, itâs odd, because that crystal calls to you. When you reach out to touch it, itâs warm. Familiar. Important. You donât know why, but you know you must hold onto this, because now it feels wrong for it to be suspended in these leaves. So, you pull it out.
The light starts to fade, but only in time to see as the leaves cradling you immediately start to soften and crumble, and with it comes a torrent of dirt. Soft, loamy soil starts to fill the space around you in the dark as youâre buried. Or, rather, you already were. You reach out through the dirt desperately, and your hands finds a root, so you pull while you clutch that precious crystal so close that it almost feels like it sinks into you (in your panic, you donât notice that it does). You reach out again, and this time, your hand hits open air and plenty of sturdy roots around to grab.
From a seed youâre born, and like a sprout, you make your way out of the ground.
And once youâve clawed your way out of the soft earth and the roots, nearby, you see the soil shift. Another hand comes up to grasp desperately for something, anything, just as you had been.
II. BOUGH-BREAKER, ROOT-QUAKER
There are new Shard-Bearers at the Tree of Life, and Yima has asked that their elders return to the Tree to greet them, to bring them forth and answer their questions. She warns that it will be unlike the last time, for the Dryad's presence has gone -- the root-caverns of the Tree are damaged, the previous actions of some of the Shard-Bearers have left it injured, blackened by ill intent. Be careful, Commune where you must, but be aware that the Tree has reacted to its injury and will seek out the space within your Communions to make its agonies known.
All will experience the consequences to the actions of the few.
Whether awakening within or descending once more into the cavernous, root layer of the Tree of life is precarious; passages are maze-like, with claustrophobic squeezes and sudden chasms. Worse yet, is the miasma that hovers in the atmosphere. It leaches into your eyes, your skin, the space below your fingernails and drags through your lungs with every inhalation. Images of explosions, of fire and the sensation of shrapnel tearing through you begin to spark like fireworks within your mind. The pain builds, souring as it does.
The ambiance here is revolting. Great chasms have opened in the environment, threatening to pour inattentive Shard-Bearers into the Tree's deeper underbelly. The cloying, dark vapors around everyone dull the senses, until those you may have entered with are gone, or perhaps new bodies have joined you in the rancid space. The miasma urges you towards your baser desires, your desperate violence, and even as the Tree's pain evokes a sense of desperate self-defense, your Shard warms upon your body.
Somehow, the Tree still seeks to Commune with all -- pressing its need upon you: a single flame. A roaring pyre. A chilled ember.
All will experience the consequences to the actions of the few.
Whether awakening within or descending once more into the cavernous, root layer of the Tree of life is precarious; passages are maze-like, with claustrophobic squeezes and sudden chasms. Worse yet, is the miasma that hovers in the atmosphere. It leaches into your eyes, your skin, the space below your fingernails and drags through your lungs with every inhalation. Images of explosions, of fire and the sensation of shrapnel tearing through you begin to spark like fireworks within your mind. The pain builds, souring as it does.
The ambiance here is revolting. Great chasms have opened in the environment, threatening to pour inattentive Shard-Bearers into the Tree's deeper underbelly. The cloying, dark vapors around everyone dull the senses, until those you may have entered with are gone, or perhaps new bodies have joined you in the rancid space. The miasma urges you towards your baser desires, your desperate violence, and even as the Tree's pain evokes a sense of desperate self-defense, your Shard warms upon your body.
Somehow, the Tree still seeks to Commune with all -- pressing its need upon you: a single flame. A roaring pyre. A chilled ember.
THE GAME IS AFOOT
The Tree of Life cannot communicate but in abstract images and sounds, but the general gist of its need is eventually grasped by all Shard-Bearers: the miasma present is the result of an attack upon the Dryad that once lived among the roots of the Tree. Actions taken by other Shard-Bearers have left the Tree in dire straits, deeply wounded and unable to prevent itself from naturally lashing out in its own defense as it dies. It cannot let go of those it has imprisoned, until they have revealed their nature to it - until it knows it can finally, finally let go.
Characters can decide amongst themselves how to deal with the threat of miasma. It's easy to figure out, as your shards will naturally want to absorb what's similar to discord within your shards, but just like with discord, holding hands, or joining together in some way will allow the pain to be shared amongst everyone in the group. There's no such thing as failure, but if a character decides for the group, there may be the opportunity for interventionâŠ
Characters can decide amongst themselves how to deal with the threat of miasma. It's easy to figure out, as your shards will naturally want to absorb what's similar to discord within your shards, but just like with discord, holding hands, or joining together in some way will allow the pain to be shared amongst everyone in the group. There's no such thing as failure, but if a character decides for the group, there may be the opportunity for interventionâŠ
- Characters may choose to take on the role of a martyr, accepting the Tree's miasma ( its pain ) upon themselves as the sole sufferant. They will experience excruciating pain and lasting effects, but will spare others from this trauma.
- Characters may also choose to share the pain among themselves, though doing so will require Communion to be shared between all parties -- this will result in the temporary collapse of boundaries and barricades, and emotions and memories may flow against their will into others.
- Characters may also decide to do nothing at all, whereupon their decision to take no action will result in the miasma growing stronger, denser and more cloying until they are rendered unconscious and ejected from the roots of the tree.
- Have you a choice unique to your character that wasn't mentioned? Might you try to heal the tree's pain, or perhaps harm it further? If you're making the attempt, make sure your group is aware and submit your record of action to the link included below!
III. TWO CITIES, ALIKE IN DIGNITY BUT WE ALL KNOW YIMOMMY'S WHERE IT'S AT
Having just celebrated the dual-natured festivities known as the Year's End Festival and Qiasu, Springstar and Highstorm ( respectively ) are wrapping up the period of time where Kenos a celebrates unity and togetherness, coming together with friends and family, to be kind to others and share in oneâs wealth - whether that comes in the form of knowledge, monetary gains, or the exchange of gifts and oneâs time. While the core festivities are over, many of the residents of Kenos are still caught up in the celebratory mood; those who are not, have begun to fret and whisper about a rumor that has spread throughout both cities.
( Many more residents are attempting to get rid of their excess stock, and may attempt to pawn off kitschy goods and, strangely, unclaimed gifts for people they claim they have no memory of, or simply do not exist. )
With the new Shard-Bearers present or en route, it is Kathova and Cetina that approach the established ones, requesting that they form mentorships with the new souls to assist them with the integration process. To this end, they have both provided a centralized zone in both Highstorm and Springstar for a small, casual meet-and-greet to be held before the new Shard-Bearers are unleashed upon Kenos as a whole.
Additionally, as Springstar and Highstorm are holding their events on different days, it is possible for the knowledge-hungry to participate in both informational sessions -- the tones and opinions held by both cities are doubtless to differ, and some Shard-Bearers who have chosen to harmonize with either faction may even find their way to the opposing faction's session as well. After all, the year's end is still lingering in the air, and cooperation is the current name of the game.
( Many more residents are attempting to get rid of their excess stock, and may attempt to pawn off kitschy goods and, strangely, unclaimed gifts for people they claim they have no memory of, or simply do not exist. )
With the new Shard-Bearers present or en route, it is Kathova and Cetina that approach the established ones, requesting that they form mentorships with the new souls to assist them with the integration process. To this end, they have both provided a centralized zone in both Highstorm and Springstar for a small, casual meet-and-greet to be held before the new Shard-Bearers are unleashed upon Kenos as a whole.
Additionally, as Springstar and Highstorm are holding their events on different days, it is possible for the knowledge-hungry to participate in both informational sessions -- the tones and opinions held by both cities are doubtless to differ, and some Shard-Bearers who have chosen to harmonize with either faction may even find their way to the opposing faction's session as well. After all, the year's end is still lingering in the air, and cooperation is the current name of the game.
SPRINGSTAR, αÎčÏÎœÎčÎżÏ ÎźÎ»ÎčÎżÏ
In Springstar, the seat of the Tribune becomes available for such a forum. While a section of the building itself has been reserved for the meeting between fresh faces and experienced Shard-Bearers alike, the hustle and bustle of Heliopolis continues around them -- acolytes still gather their robes and tomes, hurrying from their quarters to lessons. A score of young militants march in step across the yard to the training grounds.
Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare common to Springstar's warmer climate -- fruits and wines, savory smoked meats and roasted vegetables, a series of meze platters and souvlaki skewers have been lain out to encourage forum participants to snack as they speak. The atmosphere is light, ambient with informality and friendliness, though topics will inevitably stray towards philosophic, Springstar's meeting grounds are decorated with handsome chaise lounges and slouching klismos chairs in small, intimate groupings.
Tables draped in white-and-gold-trimmed fabrics fare filled with fare common to Springstar's warmer climate -- fruits and wines, savory smoked meats and roasted vegetables, a series of meze platters and souvlaki skewers have been lain out to encourage forum participants to snack as they speak. The atmosphere is light, ambient with informality and friendliness, though topics will inevitably stray towards philosophic, Springstar's meeting grounds are decorated with handsome chaise lounges and slouching klismos chairs in small, intimate groupings.
HIGHSTORM, Đ»ŃĐœŃ-Đ±Đ»ĐžĐ·ĐœĐ”ŃŃ
Eternally in opposition, Highstorm provides the Manor's courtyard as the setting for their informational meeting. Here, formality is of utmost importance, with attending Zenith loyalists and residents dressed in beautiful, albeit austere attire -- they are, after all, standing before Lady Yima's home. A buffet-style luncheon is spread alongside one of the largest reflecting pools, wherein you may gaze and find your memories revealed in retrospect upon the water's surface.
There are few places to be seated in the Manor's courtyard, resulting in a milling of bodies as they flow and ebb between smaller gatherings, clustering in small-to-large groups with small platters and shimmering flutes of drink held in their hands.
There are few places to be seated in the Manor's courtyard, resulting in a milling of bodies as they flow and ebb between smaller gatherings, clustering in small-to-large groups with small platters and shimmering flutes of drink held in their hands.
RUMOR MILL
In both locations information passes between all in a forum, spread and disseminated among the masses - it's a good opportunity for city residents, faction loyalists and interested new parties to share and share alike. Once the meet-and-greet has concluded, twin missives from both of the faction leads are read out -- invitations for all present to explore the cities to their heart's content, and warnings about stumbling ill-prepared ( or at all ) into the Below, or worse yet, the Beyond.
No matter how conversations between player characters go, everyone will walk away with the following knowledge to ensure new players do not feel "behind" in terms of what has previously happened on Kenos TV.
No matter how conversations between player characters go, everyone will walk away with the following knowledge to ensure new players do not feel "behind" in terms of what has previously happened on Kenos TV.
- Cyrus, the head of the Meridian faction is a native aristocrat of Springstar, who provides characters with an iliachtida, or sunbeam. This item tethers a character to their world, ensuring it does not fully disappear. His stance involves the idea that, using Meridian's light, worlds can be restored and you may return home.
- In contrast, the head of the Zenith faction is Yima, who has been the head of Highstorm since - arguably - its inception. She provides characters with a Shard of that they love most, to protect and hold. Yima believes former worlds to be lost, and looks to the future instead.
- While Harmonization occurs as the characters' Shard ( literally the manifestation of a character's soul! ) accrues the natural energies generated by Meridian or Zenith, Discord is also as natural an occurrence -- a symptom, in fact, of that process. Discord is best reduced by someone from the opposite faction, and is also influenced by the Aspect of one's character.
Cyrus likes enchiladas.- Many individuals recommend the following locations to new arrivals, as a means of enjoyment, involvement or further information-seeking: Highstorm's Court at Yima's Manor remains a great area for reflection and self-discovery, while the Tomes - a series of libraries - possess a magnitude of amassed knowledge, both foreign and relative to yourself. Heliopolis, the capital of Springstar, is the core of government and administration, and houses many avenues towards involvement in the goings-on of the city. Likewise, the PsychagogĂa District is the beating heart of entertainment within an island known for its passions.
- Rumors of past exploits linger on the lips of many. Did you know that one of Meridian's Harmonized slew one of Zenith's before the eyes of countless bystanders? That there was an expedition of Meri and Zenite Shard-Bearers dispatched to Alenroux, and some came back brutalized! Did you hear that the Shard of a Zenite is being held hostage by the Meridians?
- The new marking that has appeared upon your character's body is known as their sign of Aspect, and supposedly correlates to the fundamental truths of their soul. A Shard also exists, and is known as the characters' soul itself.
NOTES
no subject
As far as I can tell, largely positive. Many are willing to give free wares, food, shelter and the like for little more than a person being one such bearer.
[He'd also been a little like "oh???" at first, though not because he's considered plagued and is used to being booted out and shunned. RIP Flamebringer.]
It's been that way on either side, as well, so it seems to be a shared opinion.
no subject
Look at that! A question starts to form in his head that's different from "where's the nearest place to engage in wholesale slaughter?" ]
That sort of response -- isn't it a little unnatural?
no subject
Seems they're roughly of the same mindset there, at least, since Matsui doesn't take long to respond.]
I think that it is, yes. [Like?? Why??? Why are they as Shard-bearers that important... As someone who expects a war at some point, he doesn't like the potential implications.] It is harmless enough for now, but it's impossible to tell if things will stay that way.
no subject
[ He leans back and lets out a long sigh. It seems like he has been doing that a lot lately. There is someone that once told him that every long sigh he lets out is one more year of his life gone. If that were true, I'd be dead as soon as I came here.
A slight smile crosses his face before he says: ]
Right now, we're a commodity and something to be used for everyone's betterment. They don't like us as people, but only what our future endeavors will bring. To that end, if things really do go south between the two factions, the feelings towards us will become much more divided.
I'm sure that we'll end up being blamed for any schism that happens, too. [ Isn't he positive?! ]
no subject
It's not like he entirely disagrees, anyway.]
I could see us becoming scapegoats quite easily if things begin to sour, that much is true. Even at the base level, we are technically... not "intruders", exactly, but we are certainly not an addition that they had any control over. People who are viewed as separate from the whole are always the first to suffer.
[Despite that possibility, he doesn't seem too ruffled. He's too old to be... At least over something like this.]
no subject
[ He makes a gesture to indicate the "we" meaning the two of them versus the "we" meaning the group. ]
Our desire for battle. [ And he smiles. ] Even if things turn out to be disadvantageous for us... that'll just make us happier, right?
[ A wonderful talent that only a few people possess. They are truly lucky since even if things go sour, they will fill their soul with blood and carnage. Woohoo. ]
no subject
As long as I'm bathed in red, then I can feel satisfied.
[Unfortunately Matsui's not going to be normal first. But hey! At least there's Two Of Them. Even though none of his other companions are here, it feels a little less lonely knowing that someone understands this mentality. This very... very swordcore mentality...]
But I don't think such extremes will come quickly, in any case. Tensions tend to rise slowly in situations like this, so there will be ample time to prepare.
[Smashcut to all the Zenith villains going whole ham when the Oracle quest is unleashed.]
no subject
That is the only state of real satisfaction.
[ Neither of these boys will be normal. "Are we gonna be enemies?" "Sweet." "Are they gonna blame us and try to kill us?" "Try to kill us harder, Daddy." They're living their best life no matter how anyone sees it. ]
Yes. It'll have to build for a long time. [ Or. ] Some great catalyst will have to happen to force everyone's hand. But everyone appears to be quite reasonable and level-headed... it seems we're the only two that'll be praying for violence and death.
[ INDEED. THE SMASHCUT. ]
no subject
Mm... I don't mind seeing people interact peacefully. [It's not like he's All Death All The Time, even though he tends to revel in bloodshed - some types far, far more than others.] Especially when a human's life is so short and fragile. Those fleeting moments of peace are like minutes on a clock, in the grander scheme. It is best if they're able to enjoy as much of it as they can, when they can.
[But BOY when it's time to do a stab, he'll be right there doing a stab.]
--How do you feel about them? The peacetimes.
no subject
[ It's not the time to be normal. ]
I see the peacetimes as just a lull. Everything is waiting until the eventual bloodshed.
[ Or maybe he thinks like this because he's a Sarkaz? His homeland was never able to establish itself because of other nations. There were constant civil wars and skirmishes to where the land remained underdeveloped and backwater. The majority of Sarkaz "occupation" was mercenary out of necessity. ]
There's nothing wrong with interacting with each other during this time... but eventually, everyone here might become my enemy.
[ The edge is real. ]
no subject
Though Matsui can recognize this sort of mentality all too well. Of course he can - he's a sword, after all. What does he know better than the mind of man in the middle of war?]
You must come from a turbulent place.
[Or lead a turbulent life, but these two things often go hand-in-hand anyway. There are just some people - in every world, it would seem - who exist in a nexus of chaos.]
no subject
[ He lifts his head, staring at the ceiling like he could see his world. ]
... the battlefields I saw in the present are nothing like those of the past. [ Flamebringer can't help but sound a little disappointed. ] People forgot what war is and think just causing carnage is war.
But they don't know the actual image of it... so the scenes that they create are haphazard and sloppy at best. [ Hm. ] But I could sense it. The real war was coming. A truly harsh and unforgiving battlefield was starting to come together.
[ He drops his head and smiles. ] It was turbulent but not yet exciting. [ A beat. ] What about you? Were you properly fed?
no subject
Matsui, who is also in need of therapy but for different reasons, quiets at the question. They share similarities in many ways, that much is true. But for the overall perspective of battles and wars, and the excitement that stems from it... Well. Not that it matters anymore, but he would have liked to hope that the war coming to Flamebringer's world would not have been as devastating as the one he knows, no matter what sort of bloodthirst Flamebringer has.]
I was in the midst of one. I have never seen a war like it in all of my years.
[That doesn't really answer the question but he moves on anyway!! It's fine.]
...There is nothing wrong with reveling in bloodshed. [ISN'T THERE.] But I hope that you are able to find something in these quiet moments that you can keep with you, regardless.
no subject
[ He was smiling when Matsui mentions a great war in which he is a participant. However, the smile fades to mild surprise. It's the sort of thing that he's heard at Rhodes Island. They wanted him to try to find something quiet to appreciate. It is why they gave him access to the greenhouse.
But isn't that because they were worried he cut down everyone? Probably but also trying to quietly give the boy some plant therapy!! Did he notice? Not really. He just thinks it's nice to talk about plants and how it shows you how fleeting life is.
These boys are doing great. ]
Why do you hope that for me?
no subject
In any case, it's definitely not out of concern for the people Flamebringer may or may not cut down if not distracted by plants that he's bringing this up. It's just a bit of that old god peeking through his very human veneer, peering out through the ice blue of his eyes.]
Because you will return to the earth someday. Your flesh will decay, your blood will seep into the soil, and if you are fortunate, something beautiful will grow from what you leave behind.
[NORMAL THINGS TO SAY... It's what he hopes for himself, anyway, when the time eventually - sooner rather than later, he would hope - comes.]
And since you will someday give everything back, you should use the time that you have now to borrow in return. There are wonderful things to experience beyond the blood of the battlefield. Even if it is just one single, brilliant sunrise that sets your heart at ease, that much is also precious, don't you think?
[Ah, the dichotomy of a weapon of mass murder who also deeply values and respects life... Thinking about how they literally just met.]
no subject
But he pauses to listen to what Matsui says. He seems to think the idea that something good will come from his rotting, decomposing body on the battlefield is a romantic thought. Romantic in terms of a loving idea of the future!!
He hums in turn. ]
Those precious sights are meant for others that can appreciate them. [ Flamebringer shrugs his shoulders. ] When I think of those sunsets, I think only of how the next day may bring my death. It leads to quite exciting nights. [ He chuckles to himself but appreciates that Matsui is still able to value such scenery. ]
I'm glad you can see find peace in them. I'm happy that you can find joy in being covered in blood. You will live a life that is filled with happiness. My happiness comes when my life is just a step away from death.
[ Although. He should be sincere! Since Matsui is!! ] Though, I did find some comfort, brief as it may have been, tending to a bonsai tree. [ He was meticulous in tending to the plant. ] But it ended up being destroyed by a recruit.
And that is just how life is... no matter how much care and attention you give something... and want it to live peacefully... death is always around the corner.
[ HELP. ]
no subject
In any case, it's sadly all edge that Matsui can relate to. He'd barely had anything to hang on to before, and he certainly has nothing to hang onto now. The idea of his life being filled with happiness is almost laughable given all his life has been, but he's so long-lived that it hardly matters anyway.]
That is true.
[DEATH. Always lurking... Always watching, waiting. Damn, death is sneaky.]
...But that is why it's important to take the small moments that you have when you have them. If not in sunsets, then in bonsai trees for the days or weeks they have to live. Or in anything else you can take comfort in, in the time that you may have.
[Life! It can be a slog! But sometimes it's just those little things that get you through it... And sometimes those little things happen to involve copious bloodshed but it's fine, it's fine.]
no subject
[ 'CAUSE WE'RE BOTH BEING SUCH EDGELORDS ]
Don't get me wrong. I simply don't find any merit in fighting battles that have no face to direct my wrath upon.
[ He'll take some joy in the brief conversations that he has, but the next day, the person that he spoke to may be gone. Others may mourn it, but he will accept it as just another passing. Eventually, people forget about the dead. ]
My corpse may create some tree as it decomposes, but probably not. [ Whoof. ] You see, I'm Infected. When an Infected dies, our bodies spontaneously combust. [ So you see!!! ] Not all the time, but a lot of the time.
But anyone who happens to be around and breathes that mess in... they'll become Infected, as well. [ He shrugs his shoulders. ] Thinking of it that way... I don't believe there is going to be any legacy to my body and bones.
However, the sword I wielded will have more death and blood on it than anyone else... or so I hope. I don't want it to be revered. I want someone else to take and keep killing so that it never feels any thirst or want, again.
[ YOU KNOW NORMAL HOPES AND DREAMS ]
no subject
There's a bit of a long silence there, in which Matsui thinks about the many swords that he himself knows and their many wants, and how a fair number would rather be left to rust than to draw blood again. Others still never had the chance to know battle despite being forged for it, and thus wished to see. Not many - if any - enjoy seeing the toll it takes on human life.
But that's neither here nor there, and Matsui doesn't particularly feel like philosophizing about what it means to be a sword to a man who likely knows his own blades quite well, or at the very least cares deeply for them. So in the end, he just inclines his head a little.]
Then your sword will be your legacy, perhaps. There is no person alive who will leave behind a footprint that time won't eventually erode, even if they are not "infected". But to wield a blade with intent is to leave a mark on the world, regardless. Long after you are gone, the steel that you carried will remember you.
[He at least feels confident enough to say that. They've all been touched in some way or another by those wielders who left the biggest impacts.]
no subject
He honestly goes quiet. There is a ritual, of sorts, that the Sarkaz follow. Flamebringer pauses before he decides to explain it: ]
When my weapon is picked up by someone else, it has meaning. They're willing to carry the souls and death that I've brought. And they would eventually carry on my name, as well.
[ It's a ritual that some would call "barbaric," but for the Sarkaz, it is fine. So few are given names; so few can pass on any name. They found a way to carry themselves forward to the next generation. The blood we've spilled is now yours. My name is now yours. If you're capable of it. ]
I guess the steel will remember me... and hopefully love those that take my name.
no subject
...If it is something that you wish for, then perhaps it will be so.
[Blades are just as different as people, in many cases. Some can't let go of the people who wielded them, even after being entrusted and passed down to beloved proteges, family members, confidantes.]
Do you feel at peace with the thought of it?
no subject
[ So, he can't deny that he wants that for his weapons. If another Sarkaz takes them, he hopes they will take them to better and harsher battlefields. He hopes that they're able to spill more and more blood with them. He hopes that they take his name and forge something terrible on the battlefield. His swords will never grow hungry or want for anything; it is the only hope he supposes he has for the future. ]
Peace? I suppose.
[ The most peaceful that he ever feels when he thinks about death. But then again, his thoughts about death are "EH, GUESS THAT'S THAT." ]
Hmmm... anyway, when you get your body back, maybe you'll let me wield you.
no subject
Then if that is even some sense of peace to you, I hope that you will find it.
[However scant it is. Everyone deserves a little of that well rest, he thinks...
The rest of that makes him crack a smile, though, and there's a sharpness to the amusement in it that reflects his bladed nature.]
You would wish for something so intimate after just one meeting? [His tone is clearly teasing, even if it's also sharp-edged.] I suppose many wielders do select their blade with just one look.
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[ Triple S-rank. ]
We've already discussed the finer points of life. [ "You like bathing in blood. I like bathing in blood. Seems like we're bros." ] But I also understand if you're still loyal to your master. I've not yet done enough slaughtering to earn their name.
[ Which is to say! He likes being Flamebringer and gonna stay with that name for as long as he can. He earned that! With fire! And Blood! ]
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I have heard that before.
[He's very sentimental... It's a big problem, honestly. Anyway, the funny part about this is that he isn't even particularly dedicated to his current master so much as his ideals, but he doesn't bother to clarify any of that. Instead, simply, with a mild smile:]
If the occasion calls for it, then I would not mind coming to rest in your hands for a time.
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