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.]
no subject
[Mitsunari's obsession runs alarmingly deep, but it isn't always evident just how deep until he starts fielding questions like these.]
no subject
[He wants to just turn on his heel and storm off, but he hesitates for a moment, just hoping he might get the sort of response he wants out of that.]
no subject
Begone.