Ishida Mitsunari ▽ 石田三成 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
curseking) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
piratejournal2014-12-17 08:31 pm
curseking) wrote in piratejournal2014-12-17 08:31 pm
Entry tags:
006. voice/action for the katabami
[These innocuous mechanical birds seem to be causing something of a stir, and Mitsunari has to wonder why. So when he realizes one of them has silently perched itself on his scabbard (he has so few valuable possessions, everything important to him is kept on his person) he picks it up and finds himself listening to the song it has to sing.
Unimpressed and wondering what's so offensive about it aside from being dull, (as if he has any right to criticize needless upset) he starts to set the bird down somewhere, only for the song to fade and for a very familiar voice to come through instead. He can't possibly be hearing the voice he thinks -- he knows -- he is.]
...Lord... Hanbei? Are you -- ?!
[He believes, for one wonderful instant, that it may be Hanbei Takenaka himself speaking through this bird, but the words are ones he's heard before. It's like a memory being played out over radio. He can barely speak, so he listens instead, captivated and confused and hurting.
The voice eventually changes, and it is still so achingly familiar. He could not possibly forget who it belongs to. It's the voice he's wished more than any other that he could hear just one more time, even if doing so would open up a wound that never healed in the first place.
He listens. It's as if the bird is repeating everything his lord Hideyoshi had to say to him within those final few days of his life. Be it orders or praise or scolding, they're all precious memories.
The last thing the bird repeats is not a memory -- it's not Mitsunari's memory, that is. But Mitsunari thinks he knows what he's been given the privilege of hearing. Words he'd thought forever lost on the one person who surely deserved to hear them least.
Lord Hideyoshi's last words, it seems, were to Hanbei.
Mitsunari will be found in a strange mood for as long as these birds are around. This has spurred all kinds of conflicting emotions he really doesn't know how to deal with, but it's those final thoughts that have had the biggest effect. This isn't the closure he believes vengeance would bring -- in fact, his emotional damage feels more raw than ever -- but at least now he can finally stop wondering what passed through his lord's head at the end of his life. He was not ashamed or defeated, and he did not waver.
And Mitsunari feels that, if nothing else, the resolve in his own heart has strengthened.]
---
Lord Hanbei... Lord Hideyoshi... I have heard their voices once again.
[In Mitsunari's view, these little birds are kind of miraculous.]
Ieyasu... try all you like. You cannot take this from me!
[Part of him had been wary, and he had wondered if he could trust some of what he heard. But he knows Hideyoshi's voice, and could not mistake it or be fooled by an imposter. And he knows his lord's nature well enough that he has no doubt he would address Hanbei in his final moments. In fact, there would be nothing more like him. That was Hideyoshi.
Quieter, and to himself:]
Lord Hideyoshi... was this your wish...?
[Or was it just by someone else's whim that he was able to hear what he did? Perhaps he'll never know.]
Unimpressed and wondering what's so offensive about it aside from being dull, (as if he has any right to criticize needless upset) he starts to set the bird down somewhere, only for the song to fade and for a very familiar voice to come through instead. He can't possibly be hearing the voice he thinks -- he knows -- he is.]
...Lord... Hanbei? Are you -- ?!
[He believes, for one wonderful instant, that it may be Hanbei Takenaka himself speaking through this bird, but the words are ones he's heard before. It's like a memory being played out over radio. He can barely speak, so he listens instead, captivated and confused and hurting.
The voice eventually changes, and it is still so achingly familiar. He could not possibly forget who it belongs to. It's the voice he's wished more than any other that he could hear just one more time, even if doing so would open up a wound that never healed in the first place.
He listens. It's as if the bird is repeating everything his lord Hideyoshi had to say to him within those final few days of his life. Be it orders or praise or scolding, they're all precious memories.
The last thing the bird repeats is not a memory -- it's not Mitsunari's memory, that is. But Mitsunari thinks he knows what he's been given the privilege of hearing. Words he'd thought forever lost on the one person who surely deserved to hear them least.
Lord Hideyoshi's last words, it seems, were to Hanbei.
Mitsunari will be found in a strange mood for as long as these birds are around. This has spurred all kinds of conflicting emotions he really doesn't know how to deal with, but it's those final thoughts that have had the biggest effect. This isn't the closure he believes vengeance would bring -- in fact, his emotional damage feels more raw than ever -- but at least now he can finally stop wondering what passed through his lord's head at the end of his life. He was not ashamed or defeated, and he did not waver.
And Mitsunari feels that, if nothing else, the resolve in his own heart has strengthened.]
---
Lord Hanbei... Lord Hideyoshi... I have heard their voices once again.
[In Mitsunari's view, these little birds are kind of miraculous.]
Ieyasu... try all you like. You cannot take this from me!
[Part of him had been wary, and he had wondered if he could trust some of what he heard. But he knows Hideyoshi's voice, and could not mistake it or be fooled by an imposter. And he knows his lord's nature well enough that he has no doubt he would address Hanbei in his final moments. In fact, there would be nothing more like him. That was Hideyoshi.
Quieter, and to himself:]
Lord Hideyoshi... was this your wish...?
[Or was it just by someone else's whim that he was able to hear what he did? Perhaps he'll never know.]
[action]
I'm not gonna do that, geez.
[It would require him to be a lot more ruthless than he actually is, now that he's aware of the bird's value in Mitsunari's eyes. Knowing that is also why he's slightly surprised by how the other man is willing to consent with his wish despite their... uh, everything. It went far easier than he expected, though it soon turns out obtaining Mitsunari's permission wasn't the most difficult obstacle, because as soon as he carefully picks the bird from him, Ragna finds himself struck with doubt.
Is... Is this really right? Clinging onto the past and never letting it go? Trying to soothe the pain of losing everyone he cared for with the voice of the dead? Possibly hearing something he was never meant to for the sake of fake consolation? ... Wouldn't that just hurt even more?
The Grim Reaper remains silent, hesitating between going through with the original idea and returning the bird. A part of him wants to follow the instinct that brought this on in the first place, but─ but what, exactly? The realization dawns upon him a split of second later, and he can't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise when that happens.
Because right now, Ragna the Bloodedge is afraid of the tiny mechanical bird in his hand.]
[action]
Either he wants to listen to it or he doesn't. It's not complicated.
For Mitsunari, anyway, because whether or not he would want to hear the bird's "song" again is a very simple question, and he just doesn't realize that others may not (and do not) share his way of thinking. He's called Ragna a coward many times and meant it, but it doesn't even remotely occur to him that Ragna may be afraid of what he might hear.
He's never been good at reading people, and he's never been good at understanding them, either.]
Why are you hesitating?
[action]
[The response is almost automatic, but hearing his own voice tremble when he says that, he quickly abandons the attempt at a poorly constructed lie. Mitsunari makes it sound so simple─ and hell, maybe it actually is that. Maybe he's the one who's making it hard. There are only two choices he can make, and although neither seems like a very good one now that he thinks about it, he has to decide. If he does listen to it, there will be no turning back. If he doesn't, he might regret it for the rest of his life.
...
He's got enough regrets as it is; he can't afford to run away now.]
... I've already decided.
[It's not clear whether he says that to Mitsunari or reassures himself, but he seems determined to see it through to the end, regardless of what that end may be.
For the sake of his own comfort (for what little it can do), the Grim Reaper turns around and takes a few steps, stopping a small distance away from Mitsunari before taking a deep breath and lifting the bird close to his ear.
The sweet melody he hears at first doesn't do anything to ease his nervousness, and Ragna can practically feel his stomach tying itself into a knot in anticipation. Then, as expected, comes the voice: gentle and caring, just the way he remembers it. Sometimes a little more stern, like when urging him to do the chores for god knows which time. It's almost weird, listening to the Sister's words about some completely mundane things, as if nothing's changed. Then the voices of his little siblings chime in with their never-ending "Brother, Brother" and "I love you, Brother" mantras; he used to find them embarrassing, and maybe even a little annoying, but deep inside always appreciated them. Now they're nothing more than a faded memory he can never return to... And when he once again hears the old nun, asking him to protect his brother and sister, it's only his promise to return the bird to Mitsunari unharmed that stops him from crushing this one to pieces as well.
After a moment of listening to these scenes from the past (some more painful than others, some less) there's a pause, followed by a voice so weak and quiet Ragna is sure he imagined it. As if sensing that, the bird repeats the words for him:
"Jin, make sure you get along with your brother..."
... Ah.
The bird has already fallen silent without Ragna noticing, and he has no idea how long he's been standing there. Seconds seem to stretch into hours as he's staring at the horizon, his thoughts oddly still despite what he's just heard. It's so... simple, almost laughably, yet it's just like her. To ask that in her last words...
At long last, Ragna walks back up to Mitsunari, handing him the bird wordlessly. Perhaps there's something that should be said here, but... for now, he's got nothing.]
[action]
And the only conclusion Mitsunari can come to is that he'll never really understand him.
Mitsunari takes back the bird, silent. Whatever Ragna heard, it affected him deeply. Any idiot, this idiot included, could see that. It's just that, of all people, Ragna is the last person he ever would have expected would have any concern for what the dead have to say. Someone who blasphemed Lord Hideyoshi couldn't possibly understand loss... right? And certainly they could never know how it feels to lose anyone.
Mitsunari doesn't assume that the gravity of Ragna's grief (whoever it may be about) will ever compare exactly to his own, because one thing he can't comprehend is the concept that anyone else could have ever suffered a loss and felt the way he did when Hideyoshi was killed. What other pain could sting that deeply? What other loss could leave one feeling as if their very spirit had been killed? But he's gotten better in this regard -- he's come to acknowledge that other people's grief can be valid too, and that he's not the only one in the world who's ever had their heart wounded.
He doesn't care personally, because several months worth of hatred doesn't dissipate and turn into sympathy as easily as this, but perhaps, somehow... even Ragna is capable of grieving for someone. He's seen again and again that Ragna is capable of a great many unexpected things.
That in mind, Mitsunari says the only thing he can think.]
Every time we speak... I am surprised.
[action]
Huh. Crazy shit.
Mitsunari's words bring him back to reality and he looks back at the other man, blinking slowly. A thought crosses his mind─ that perhaps this is why he's been acting like... well, like that. Because he got to hear the last words of a person dear to him, too. He does, after all, go on and on about his lord something or the other more often than he breathes, so whatever it was that he listened to must have been pretty important to him. Not exactly in the same way it was for Ragna, he imagines, but. He sort of gets where he was coming from earlier.
That brief moment of possible understanding (?) aside, the Grim Reaper can't help but raise an eyebrow at what the other man just said. Never the one to give his actions and behavior much consideration (if at all), he can't really see where the supposed "surprise" is coming from.]
... The hell do you mean?
[action]
I've heard you insolently blaspheme my lord, I have faced you in battle and suffered defeat at your hands -- only to watch you cower at the sight of ghosts...
[That gets to him even now.]
You have waived your right to vengeance against me. Still now I watch as you listen to the voices of your dead.
[He stares at Ragna as if that will puzzle out some great mystery.]
I know not what to make of you.
[action]
Ragna frowns slightly─ partially because Mitsunari decided to yet again point out his weakness, but also because he's having a hard time following his logic. Granted, those are all the things he has done, but the Grim Reaper sees not a single contradiction there.]
... I don't really get what you're trying to say here, but... I'm me.
[To him, it's simple as that. Not "Destroyer of the world". Not "Dark One". Not the source of all evil, a fake, the origin, or whatever else the idiots from his world choose to call him.
Ragna the Bloodedge.]
That's all there is to it.