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searchingforserendipity25 · 3 months ago

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Spark To Embers. DS9. On AO3.

I haven't told this to anyone , Doctor Bashir had started; the look in his eyes dire and fire-bright. An informed choice must be made, should Bareil’s body fail.

I haven't told this to anyone, but no one has ever needed to know as much as you, Vedek . And so Bashir had given Bareil his name, his first name, a dead child's name. It might mean a number of things in his language.

“Would I still be able to remember my faith?”

“I do not know.”

“The Prophets, my people, my -” Nerys, smiling, robe slipping down her shoulder, her hard-won laughter better than drink and rest to him. Again, lower, aching: “My people.”

The Doctor’s eyes flickered downwards for an instant, neither an accord nor a denial. “I do not know. We cannot know. I am - very sorry it has come to this, Vedek.”

Bareil found it difficult to look at him, now. Decency demanded he look away, though he knew it was not the Human way, and Bashir was not one of his faithful.

Still: he had told him a terrible truth, to ease a terrible choice. This was to be the first time anyone gave Bareil the gift of their grief, to be stared and well-kept and prayed over. Bareil's gratitude swelled against the faltering of his lungs, cleared his head with a rush of wind as sweet as the Lonar Province mountain-breeze.

A gift, though Bashir might not intend it like that. This last service Bareil had a means to give, which came to him as a warning. Bareil took it as a warning, if only because Bashir so fiercely believed it to be: if you replace the parts to maintain a shell of the sum, the thing that remains is not alive. Not real, in any sense of the world.

“Doctor, I am of no use if I cannot serve my people. I know you understand. Major Kira always said you were very-”

“Foolish? Callow - self-centered, terribly conceited?

“Young. But a good Doctor, and a deeply compassionate man. If a little unaware of his affect.”

Bashir let out a mirthless sound. “Believe me, I am always aware. I cannot be otherwise - I was made so. As intricate and regulated as a machine.”

“I wish I could tell you I was all that. That I was a fool of the first order, an idealist, a kind medical practitioner. But I cannot know. I can't even quite tell if I'm lying, masking myself as myself, to go unnoticed and - unfeared. I am in too deep, Vedek. There is no way to know.”

“And if I do decide to have both halves of my brain fully replaced, to go with the lungs, the kidneys, the heart?”

“Your memory centers could be transferred, the synaptic patterns repeated as well as we could. I can make no guarantees. None.”

“I would look like myself, talk like myself. But would I be myself? I can feel the difference now. Half of me is gone already. You can ask,” he added, because Bashir looked thirsty to know.

“Gone how, exactly? If you could quantify it.”

“Distant. Time slips away from me, I think. And I am lacking in sentiment.” Sentiment had long been Bajor’s strength, its resistant heart.

Distant, he had told Nerys, and felt her grasp on him tighten as if it were a hand he had held years ago. More a memory of a touch than the touch itself; more a memory of himself than his own mind - quick and slow, hesitant, forceful. A riverbed in drought, remembering the shape of the current, empty of life.

Distant, a glass in between and many years too: his mother cursing the sterile soil, his sisters looking back as the soldiers took them away, dying in the cot by the spluttering oven.

Antos, nearly a man, working in the monastery’s garden, cursing the soil, cursing the Prophets. That was the year before they were moved to Reliketh, the refugee camp with its noises, its business, its absence of birds and green growing smells.

Small fists, gritty with dirt, striking some kind Vedek’s chest, fighting consolation to fight grief. Prayer had not come easily to him, it had only ever been a punishment for his misbehavior, then a choice. The only choice.

He stretched out his hand, now. Grasped Bashir’s arm, a grounding touch, to test the reality of it. Bones, muscle, the same false wool Nerys donned day after day. Heartening, nonetheless, how the Doctor bent to him, let himself be a grounding thing.

“How do you do it?”

“My case is not equivalent, by far. Enough of a comparison that it was my only point of reference, and one I felt you ought to know about. But my alterations involved natural cerebral tissue. And I was much younger.”

“A child,” Berail said. Not a question. Intuition, not so much the wisdom of the Prophets; this situation was so wholly touched by the Prophets his every sense was dome in their likenesses, their will guided his thinking. His own, and not.

As all things were, for those who devoted themselves to faithful service.

More certain of that, now. That Bashir spoke as he did, was as he was: a guide. Made in perfect measure to this task, and as much a heart turned to service as his, an understanding many could pretend at, and not grasp.

“The child is dead.”

“I do not know if there is a correct courtesy, what the human kindness is.”

Bashir's was all sharp movement, so tight a flinch Barel’s own bones ached with the tension of it. “There is none, for people like myself.”

“Then I am sorry for your grief, and that as well,” Bareil said. Paltry speech. “If I may say it”

Bashir’s mouth twitched. His throat moved, soundless. He doesn’t know when to stop talking, was what Nerys had actually said. It’s maddening, it really is.

Bareil had spoken many times in confidence with survivors of skirmishes and raids and banal, horrible violences. What words did you give to the one sibling whose sweats grew cold and then grew to nothing? All comfort was a comfort to someone who outlived themselves, but not often quite so definitely.

The shadows and deepening lines on his face were not unbeautiful, though it was difficult to Bareil to imagine them deliberate. Two faceless parents, deciding on a series of simulations. This, yes, my son will frown so at this age, and smile like this, laugh

They must have loved him. He had seen so many deeds done in love, during the Occupation. Bareil's own parents had gone to great lengths, so he might live; at least for a time. Great lengths. Before he chose to devote himself to the Prophets, and endanger all his family –

This that had been done to him had been done in the Federation, for the pleasure of Federation principles and preferences, on whom Bajor depended still. Faith assured even to the last, Bareil could lie back wry and satisfied; he had done as he ought.

Peace, yes, they needed peace with Cardassia, a chance to stand on their own, with an Emissary for the transition and men like Bashir to stand as witness.

“If you were not yourself already, of course, it would be different,” Bashir was saying, words pressing against the silence. Bareil had lost time, lost the will to hold onto it. “Mechanical lifeforms are as capable of sentience as anyone else, if so programmed - there's a Lieutenant in Starfleet's flagship who is a wonder, and very much his own, and a fascinating fellow besides. I do not mean to say you would be a Borg, either, the technology is quite different.

“Only that I would not be myself. As good as dead, no spirit, all the pagh gone out of the flesh. Believe me, the notion disgusts me also.”

Bashir’s hand clenched, as if he wished to keep them folded his palms together, the way he did when giving dire diagnoses. Sisko did it too; so did Guls, Legates, Vedeks, the Kai.

Even poor farmers did it, when they wanted to lie about how much they might or might not owe in taxed goods. Who taught them, who taught the gestures of power and fear? Bareil’s body could not remember them now, even if he had the strength for it.

As a child Bareil has hidden mischief behind his back. Mud cakes, stolen rations, pebbles to throw at soldiers on the other side of the fence. Flowers stolen from a doctor's office, to bring back to his family. A phaser, once. The Prophets had brought the camp's cantankerous old Vedek to rap his knuckles and twist his ear and smuggle it away, before anyone could catch a glimpse, could execute the Bareils's stupid little boy.

Immediacy had become memory, memory became nothing. His ear did not know to ache with old reprimands. His body hummed and worked with a sound nearly beyond hearing. Likely Bashir could hear it.

“Vedek Bareil-”

“Doctor, please. You have made new half my body already. Call me Antos.”

That same tilt of the head, conceding, half-smiling. And still he leaned closer, flickering fire in his eyes: oh, little wonder Kai Winn could not stand him, no wonder Bareil’s death had fled from him a little.

“It must be very tiring, living as you do,” Bareil noted quietly.

Bashir made a disdainful noise. He was not to be distracted, and plainly uneasy with the kindness. “It's only patterns. Finding them, repeating them. And deciding on what to strive towards, in terms of actions. I am certain you could do it. And you would live. Your body would continue to exist, even if you decided to go into stasis."

"If I did not chose to go into stasis?"

"I would help you, it you wished it.”

“But you do not wish it. You do not think it a wise choice, or right.”

Fiercely, Bashir told him, “What I think is of no consideration, for as long as we can make it meaningless. You are awake and aware now. You have a choice that can be only yours.”

Bareil's throat ached, tight and tender. Fear no longer had a taste, but he had been afraid for so much of his life that it made no difference. “I can ask for my doctor’s counsel, surely.”

“You have the right not to give them this. Already you have given so much - so much. Give yourself this dignity. Do not let her turn your muscles and your mouth into an instrument of politics!”

“Men like us do not choose for ourselves.”

Flickering fire, fingers in his, a living hand in his living hand. Soon Bashir would go, and time would contract like a tide until Kai Winn returned with her last questions; and after that there would be nothing else. Whatever he chose, there would be nothing else.

Bareil had very much hoped to be a father, one day. What a foolish thing to think, now, when his very skull whirred, his skin strained against itself; but it was true.

“This time, you do have a choice. You must, Bareil. Antos.” A hand over his own, a tightening grasp. “You would do them a disservice, in allowing it. They do not deserve to have to suffer your sacrifice. And I will think rather less of your Prophets, if they intend to put you through it.”

Bareil laughed. For the last time, perhaps. The Prophets, he hoped, laughed with him.

“For what it is worth, Doctor,” Antos Bareil said. “You seem very real to me.”

Bashir blinked. Surprise, and that was good too. Bareil's mouth, drying and purpling with the weakness of his lungs, wanted to move with a smile. He felt the instinct, the impression of humor carved into his character; the execution simply did not happen.

Bareil made his decision, then, while he could. That was in the morning; in the evening peace was signed, Bajor was promised peace.

#I did not think my first published DS9 fic would be Bareil PoV #but 'Life Support' was an amazing episode.#so here it is!#i haven't finished season 3 yet so apologies for any inconsistencies #ds9 #star trek #star trek ds9 #antos bareil #julian bashir #ds9 fic #my fics #kira nerys

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rawliverandgoronspice · 2 years ago

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I wish mineru got to me an actual character because every single theme we get that has to do with her (thunder islands, spirit temple, construct factory) are so gorgeous and made me fall in love with her, the soundtrack does so much heavy lifting in this game

You're so correct about the soundtrack, it tells such a compelling tale and it really builds off itself constantly, it's genuinely one of my favorite parts of the game!!

Honestly Mineru had tons of potential. I really liked the entire quest to find her and her body, it was the part of the game that kind of sold me the most the mystery and wonder of having such a big world spanning the sky all the way to the Depths. The atmospheric mood of the Thunderhead Isles was wonderful, loved following the light all the way to the Depths (I had already stumbled upon the actual Construct Factory in them before). It was the part of the game that "felt the most zonai" to me, this sort of puzzle-like intricacy of how their influence permeate the world that their name alone was meant to invoke. I regret the lack of worldbuilding here, even a very light one (what was were the Thunderhead Isles? What significance did they have in zonai culture? What about the structures on the ground in the jungle? I would have *loved* more... anything in the Construct Factories), but it was still a treat as a gameplay experience.

(I mean I hated having to pilot the Construct Body itself, but that's more a me problem than a game problem, thankfully the boxing match was a ton of funs regardless)

The character herself though.... Like I feel like there's a lot of potential inherent to her status as one of the last zonais AND her status as the king's sister (not to mention her engineering proclivities). She feels like she should have a very unique perspective on the entire situation, insight about what caused the fall of the zonais (or their departure/refusal to engage with Hyrule), have both tenderness but also criticism towards her brother his wife might not have (as his lover and as an inherently lesser being bound to his good will, she's a priestess so she probably prays to the gods and zonais are said to descend from gods can we talk about that also), share a unique relationship with Zelda through their common love for knowledge (I think Zelda having a strong relationship with Mineru sounds more meaningful than her having one with Sonia as of now tbh, and it would have helped their scenes to be more interesting than an excuse to infodump, I almost said that it's a ship before remembering they're technically related SOMEHOW?? so mayyybe not).

But in practice, she has no desires of her own. She's but an extension of her brother's will, except softer, muted, heartbroken not for her loss (and the fact that her entire race is about to die out once she does), but for Hyrule's perdition. I am still not over the fact that when she swears her oath of fielty to Link, she *touches her brother's hand*, aka the only meaningful relationship in her life that we got to see, zonai skin touching zonai skin for... probably the last time ever? And the camera couldn't care less. No lingering, no body tension, not even one of the little sounds that BotW/TotK characters love to make in cutscenes everytime anything happens, not even any callback to the explicit motif of people touching each other's hand as a sign of support and unity (so you know what symbolism/allegory means game!!! you know this!!!!), the game doesn't seem to be aware that she should be a person with feelings that extend beyond her performative guilt about a situation that has basically nothing to do with her/she couldn't have done anything about/she did everything she could about, actually! She's just here to be a vessel for the restoration project of her brother's kingdom (Rauru being the only one allowed any emotion of genuine grief and upset, and it only lasts like half a second --which sucks!! I wish that, if Sonia was to be fridged anyway, it at least motivated him to become vengeful and furious and make a mistake that costed him his victory, which would have made him sliiightly more compelling instead of reverting back to a fancy cardbox of unquestionned perfection).

Also she's technically the last one you're supposed to get (but you can get her first??? this is such a weird choice sometimes linearity is good nintendo!!!), and after such a long quest, there should have been a narrative reward to finding her that goes harder than "and then Rauru decided to hype you up like crazy to Ganondorf, also Zelda is probably a dragon but you probably already know that" in my opinion. Some modicum of depth; a different emotional texture to the conflict. After that much build up, the payoff didn't land for me.

Yeah. Mineru. She really could have been the aqua-glue holding that ultrahand-ass of a plot together, but Alas.....

#asks #tloz #totk #totk spoilers #totk critical #mineru #rauru #zonai #thoughts #thanks for the ask and sorry for the time it took me to reply!!

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aita-blorbos · 2 years ago

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AITA for saving my grandchild's life?

After the brutal murder of my mother several years ago, I ([redacted]F) have been trying my best to lead this continent in the best way I can think of to avoid such a tragedy happening again. Given the horrific nature of her death as part of a genocide led against our people, all I have left is some... relics related to her, one of which is a very precious... stone. I'm not going to go into details here, but over the course of the years since her death, I believed I had found a way to revive her using this stone. I created a series of homonculi in the hopes that, given a vessel, the remnants of my mother housed within this stone could come back to life. This turned out not to be true; instead of becoming a living recreation of my mother, the homonculi developed their own personalities. This was disappointing, but I accepted that perhaps some things just weren't meant to be, and allowed them to live as normal humans. The last of my attempts, my now-beloved daughter S (20F), had a weak heart, and so I realised that removing the stone from her body would be life-threatening. It seems the strange properties of my mother's stone have the side effect of stimulating a proper heart rhythm. I, of course, have made her aware of this, as I feel like it would be wrong to hide such crucial medical information from her. Recently, S has fallen in love with and married the captain of my personal army, J ([redacted]M), a young man of great character, who has saved my own life before. When I heard they were expecting a child, I was overjoyed. Unfortunately, S's weak constitution made the pregnancy incredibly difficult for her. It was clear she would not survive the birth and, when her child was born without a heartbeat, she begged me to take the stone from her heart and use it to save her baby. Although distraught, I complied with my daughter's final wishes and managed to save the child (B, 0X). It seems, however, that using the stone on a natural-born human may have had some interesting effects. Not once has anyone heard the child cry, or even so much as whimper. Frankly, I can understand why this might be unsettling, especially in a new-born, but considering the child is otherwise perfectly healthy, I don't believe this is anything to worry about. J, though, refuses to understand this. I suspect his response is likely due to the grief of losing his wife (he does not seem to recognise that I have also lost my daughter) combined with the stress of becoming a first-time single father. I have been doing my best to assist with the child (my grandchild!), but he is accusing me of having done "something terrible" to the baby and insinuating that I chose to kill my beloved S. I know this situation is hard on him, but it's hard on me, too, and I don't know how to explain to him that all I did was follow his wife's dying wishes to save the child's life. Since he seems to be determined that I am somehow at fault for this, I have to ask: AITA?

Edit: A fire broke out in the monastery last night. Although it was brought under control, both J and B have disappeared without a trace. I fear the worst.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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white-weasel · 1 year ago

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Saw Saturday came early! (Aka my friend and I are doing something else on Saturday so we got together and watched Saw III on Thursday instead) More thoughts from me about the movie

I feel like this movie REALLY made a big gore jump. Saw II already had a big jump from the original but this one… Jesus Christ. I worry that sometimes the traps get a bit too gruesome for their own good? We’ll have to see the later movies to see how my opinion develops on this topic

I was surprisingly okay with the angel trap? Idk it’s definitely a horrifying thought but I think there was just a very big disconnect in how that would feel/play out and the over the topness of it all made me able to watch it. Very creative though I will give them that.

Going along with that, rip Kerry. The start of the movie I was so ready for her to be like the dual protagonist of the movie and then she was not. I thought it coulda been kinda interesting but I get that wasn’t really the plot direction they were going with it

Generally enjoyed the character of Lynn! I wish I could’ve learned a little bit more about her before the end of the movie, but I get they were setting up the twist of her being Jeff’s wife so they had to keep things vague. At the same time, the absolute BALLS on her to threaten and taunt Amanda with that shotgun collar around her neck? She’s an icon for that

Lynn and Amanda could have been toxic yuri, if only they were given more time!!! I mean they *were* toxic yuri, but I’m saying in another life we got even more with them

Jeff sucks. Really really hated Jeff. And he wasn’t even fun to hate, I just hated him. Like dude I get you’re going through grief and fucked up because your kid died but come ON (Lynn, at this point the toxic yuri is looking like a better option for you than that sad sack of a husband)

The pig guts vat trap didn’t bother me like at all lol I’ve seen a few lists about traps and this one tends to be towards the top but it was whatever to me from both a story and shock value perspectives Like I like the idea of a psychological trap where the person being tested doesn’t have to hurt themself physically but rather has to do something insanely hard emotionally, but man. Jeff sucks so much that I didn’t even care about his internal conflict about destroying his dead son’s possessions. I was just sitting there screaming “hit the fucking incinerator button already.” Also yeah, rotting meat is gross but seeing it thinking about it doesn’t make me ill. The thing is, this was the trap my friend had the hardest time watching without a doubt. Different strokes for different folks

The hardest trap for me in this movie was the rack. I feel like I don’t need to explain why. I didn’t even attempt to watch any of it. As soon as the explanation was given, I turned my head and dutifully put my hand shield up lol. My friend was nice enough to give me the general play by play of the scene, but just listening to it was a lot

I liked seeing more Amanda in this movie and her character of someone who believes that John saved her life by putting her in a trap, but then can’t actually live and abide by that same code when it comes time to take up his work

(And she also falls into her own self destructive tendencies, despite being “saved” by John, showing how fucked up and flawed his own philosophy actually is)

Did enjoy seeing Adam again even if it was literally only in a flashback where Amanda is killing him

Also enjoyed the puppet again. He always makes me laugh and my friend finds it funny that I find him funny. Like that part where he’s just laying in the hallway with the trike? It got me so good

Curious to see where the movies go now that both John AND Amanda are dead. My guess is that John had some sort of contingency/final game that he wants to be played upon his death. This would mean that there’s at least one other apprentice running around who will carry out this game for him

There are only two people I’m aware of who we’ve been introduced to and have survived a game: Lawrence Gordon and Daniel Matthews (though he wasn’t really being tested but also he was in the death house so?? Close enough) so I think it’s gotta be one of them. I’m leaning more towards Daniel but idkkkkkk I’m not getting strong vibes from either of them that they’d join John like Amanda did. My friend is also keeping her lips staunchly sealed so I’m floundering like a fish here

Things I’m excited for/wanting to see in future installments: finding out who the next Jigsaw is, hoping for a little more focus on trap victims so I care about them getting out, the gay middle aged men (HoffStrahm), and more of the puppet

#saw #sawposting #saw series #saw franchise #saw iii #white weasel talks #I scream about saw #I think I got all the tags I needed

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outofangband · 2 years ago

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Another Morwen ramble…more in my houseless for exiles tag

I just wanted to say I think so much about Morwen’s bitterness and grief with regards to her finally leaving Hithlum.

She’s not prospering in Hithlum obviously. She’s been persecuted as a witch when she’s never felt more powerless. She is forced to receive food from sources originally stolen from her and her husband’s people by her friend who is beaten for helping her. She and her daughter are often starving and, even though she works tirelessly, we know the house itself is falling apart

But it’s also her home, she doesn’t want to be driven out and more than that, it’s the home she’s fought tooth and nail to make for herself since she came to Hithlum as a refugee. I do not think that settling there was easy for her. At the time of Húrin leaving for the Nírnaeth, she has worked over a decade to make this her home in whatever ways she can (and I think it never on all levels feels like her true home not least because she is always always acutely aware of how quickly things can change)

And of course she doesn’t want to accept Melian and Thingol’s help more than she has. We know it was already difficult for her to ask for protection for her son from them. She did not wish to be the guest of anyone, especially when being a guest meant being completely reliant on her hosts for food, clothing and other goods and needs as well as nearly shelter

I know I’ve rambled about this a lot but this enmeshing of Morwen’s pride and trauma is just so so fascinating to me especially with how it connects with her sense of culture and belonging and how it makes her both never feel completely at home in Hithlum or among Húrin’s people but also unwilling to leave. Morwen’s pride is so much more than how she appears to others or speaks to them or doesn’t though again it is also that. It’s interwoven with her knowledge that she is among the last of her people and all of her grief and exile

Morwen is never explicitly described as self-sufficient, but I think it can be inferred from how she works tirelessly to keep the house in order after Húrin leaves and how she survives for so long in the wild after the attack by Glaurung. She does not like to be reliant on others. I always read this as something very visceral. It’s not only that it nettles her pride, though it very much does do that, but it evokes a profound sense of unease and discomfort.

Moreover, so she was willing that her son should be fostered in the holes of another after the manner of a time she would not humble her pride to be an alms guest, not even of a king

This echoes the words of the previous page; alms were bitter to Morwen but she took this aid for the sake of Túrin and her unborn child, and because as she said it came of her own

Morwen is willing, though displeased, to accept help for the sake of her children but not strictly herself.

I imagine that when Morwen first came to Hithlum she was indeed treated as an alms guest, for better and for worse. Perhaps even now she is viewed that way by those who still see her as an outsider and she is acutely aware of this.

(I know I’ve mentioned this on previous posts and got into my reasoning then, but I do not think that she felt accepted when she stayed in Brethil as a child and this weaves another thread, in tangling, her pride and grief, and trauma all relating to her feelings about being a guest and an outsider in places )

Anyways. I just love Morwen so much. I have a follow up to this about how textual descriptions of her pride mirror textual descriptions of her grief.

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #morwen #houseless for exiles #musing and meta #also inthink about how one definition of pride is simply being aware of one’s dignity

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kingofterrors · 2 years ago

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Imodna / Southern Gothic Playlist

Feeling the brainrot in these post-Episode 65 days, so found myself wandering back to my Imodna playlist, which I've been gradually adding to over the course of a couple of years (October 2021 to be precise...). In the course of which I realised I really liked it. So in lieu of a new Laura Bailey playlist, here it is to share with you all! And a little word about each song, hidden under the cut for obvious reasons!

No Lights on the Horizon - Metric: "If it wasn't for your kindness / I think I might be dead / If it wasn't for the way you said / "Oh, stay with me instead". Pre-stream Imodna. We know Imogen was on the verge of giving up before she met Laudna. They face the future together.

Take Your Time - Martha Bean, Jon Dix: "When all seems lost / You’re frightened to death of it all / Hold my hand / I'll be sure you don't fall". Their wishes for each other.

Better Days - OneRepublic: "Every day is like another storm, yeah / I'm just trying not to go insane / Yeah, and the city's shining so bright / So many dark nights, so many dark days / But any time I feel the paranoia / I close my eyes and I pray". Both Imogen and Laudna have been struggling against the weight of the world against them - but together better days might lie ahead.

Waterbound - Fretless, Ruth Moody: An Imogen song - the sense of being ripped away from everything you've ever known and thrown into a new world.

Heat Lightning - Mitski: I'm not immune to Mitski for Imodna! This is so Imogen - yearning for Laudna with every breath, not sure how long she can keep it under wraps, and ready to surrender.

Talk - Hozier: We talk about Laudna not having "accessed that part of my brain" a lot, but I'm convinced that Imogen is very much in touch with that part of her brain. And equally convinced that she holds some of that lesbian guilt about feeling desire. She keeps it locked down. Laudna's not ready for it. Or as Hozier puts it: "I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do / So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you".

Nightmares on Repeat - Emily Jane White: A Laudna song, for both lyrics and feel. Laudna doesn't know what she's feeling. She's been cut off from those feelings for so long. But she's sure feeling something. "Holding your hand, keeps me here / And all the ways you stand, keeps me here / For the light was not there / For years, upon years".

A Match into Water - Pierce the Veil: Episode 33. Laudna snatched away. This is all Imogen's grief and pain in song form.

Chasing Twisters - Delta Rae: Okay, I'm also not immune to this song for Imodna, even though I know it's on everyone's list. It just fits, okay?? Imogen's feelings for Laudna, her grief and desire to 'save' her one last time.

Autumn Rain - Rachel Sandy: Laudna's back, and Imogen is more aware of how she feels than ever. But is Laudna seeing something new in Imogen as well? "She feels like rain in autumn / Like the earth before a storm / Electric and deep-rooted".

Uphill - Lori McKenna: "When the road under your feet is dark and feels wrong / And you find yourself lost and all your confidence gone / And the stars over your head through the clouds won't be revealed / I'll walk with you, even if it's uphill". A new commitment to each other with this new lease on life.

Cold Water Swimming - Quiet Houses: Imogen's hope, but kept closely under wraps. "I’m still in love with you / But telling you is just too much of a risk".

Pockets of Stones - Charm of Finches: Both Imogen and Laudna realise their own vulnerabilities, their capacity to hurt. Their love becomes security and strength in the face of that.

Easy Silence - The Chicks: The strength both Imogen and Laudna have in the company of the other - the space they have for each other. Exandria is going to hell in a handbasket. But they make it bearable for one another. "Easy silence that you make for me / It's okay when there's nothing more to say to me / And the peaceful quiet you create for me / And the way you keep the world at bay for me / The way you keep the world at bay".

#critical role #critical role campaign 3 #imodna #critical role playlist #critical role imodna playlist #imogen temult #laudna #i don't do this very often but i realised how much i liked this list #hope you enjoy!#Spotify

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septembersghost · 2 years ago

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I hate how some people are making jokes or telling us we can't be sad or that feeling heartache listening to five albums worth of her music right now is hard and we're connecting to her art "wrong" like jfc it's been one day and this is a devastating shock we can be sad for a minute!

absolutely cannot stress enough how completely and entirely NORMAL it is for people to be sad and shaken right now, and it doesn't mean we're interacting with her music incorrectly or too invested or confused and think she's our best friend or something, none of that is true, and people dismissing it as that are the ones seemingly missing the point. when someone you care about is hurt, you hurt for them, it's human. it doesn't matter that we don't know her directly, an inherent bond is in fact formed between us and her music, and there is no getting around the fact that her music is deeply personal and autobiographical, and that a significant portion has been shaped by and written about this relationship - which also isn't a bad thing, it's beautiful! that love was so real and so transformative and such an important lifeline, and we can be grateful forever that she met joe when she did and that he helped her through those terribly dark times and that they supported and loved one another the way they did, when they did. all of that is still true. it's not undone - it was rare, it was there! (to borrow from a different tune) - and they needed it and it served them in lovely ways for as long as it could. the "these songs were about my life, now they're about yours" mentality is all well and good, but sometimes a bit impossible, and that is okay to acknowledge! the idea that you must take context away and only relate them to yourself or your blorbos is a bit silly, they're still taylor's art and diary and life (and you can and should do both!). also i'm gonna be honest here, many of us do not have a love like that to apply them to, so of course the original meaning sticks a bit. fandom acting like it's a sin right now to be thinking of her within her own music and aching for that is ridiculous. that WILL fade with time, but there hasn't been time yet! everyone's just sort of reeling and trying to process. this is collective mourning for many different aspects of things, it's in fact going to be a different bit of sadness for each person even though we're sharing it together, and that's also normal! her music being intensely personal and lyrically poignant gives us that sense of connection and empathy for what she's experienced and what she's shared, and this is the only time when we've experienced her writing about this type of love, the amount of time it's lasted (we are by extension very used to joe having been a constant! six years is a lot! there are many newer fans who've never known taylor without him being a significant factor), and tbh i could go into further detail here about why it's hitting hard and the little griefs everyone has been sorting through today. you can be grateful something happened and grieve its ending, and the ending of any potential future that might've happened, you can hurt for another person simply because you care for them and wish them the best and want them to be happy. it's not invasive when we are fully aware of the boundaries there too. it's okay for the music to sting and be difficult right now because it's about a life that no longer exists - we will all go back to it and reclaim it and feel the warmth and love in it again, we will hold onto that gratitude (i will never not be thankful that joe was in her life exactly when she needed him and helped her the way he did, that she flourished so much personally and creatively in that time, she didn't have to do that work or find that strength alone and that's a wonderful thing too). it's all about understanding those emotions and giving them space and compassion. we need to give grace to taylor and joe, to each other, and to ourselves for anything we're feeling right now.

#*hugs you*#anyone guilt policing or shaming people for being sad or making mean jokes it is on. sight.#anonymous #letterbox #taylor swift #thrown out speeches #don't read the last page #joe alwyn

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ceerecord · 2 years ago

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Breakfasts in Garden Centres

Does anyone ever know how to grieve?

To me, family has always been made. I have grown up with my paternal side of the family being ‘not actually my uncle’ uncle, ‘not biologically but’, it was normal to me. My biological grandfather passed away long before the existence of my brother, let alone me, he exists to me solely through stories and photographs.

Instead, I have a Mike. Mike has been family long before I was born. Mike is all I’ve ever really known. Mike has always been sick. I’ve known that for as long as I can remember, my mum’s voice would echo in my head– “don’t play around too much with Mike, his lungs don’t work quite like yours.” We were good, Mike would take us around garden centres, talk to me about plants, spot fish in the ponds and hold my brother back from trying to climb in. Even at 20, Mike and I would still get lost in garden centres, eventually making it back to the others who’d already made it most of the way through their first coffee. Mike would help me choose my breakfast, we’d always go to the counter and order together. It was routine.

I wonder if others feel a sense of regret when someone they love passes– do we all naturally feel this with loss? I wish I hadn’t slept in that time and still went to breakfast, I wish I had stopped by their house more often, I wish I had spent more time with him in the last few years. I would do anything to have one more garden centre breakfast. But I know there’s no use in feeling frustrated with my younger self, even the me of six months ago. Or feeling envy of those times younger me took for granted, that the me of now will never get to experience again.

Grief, to me, is love and memories. I am grieving for the man who loved me as a granddaughter, who I loved as a grandfather– even though we are not biologically related. The man I have built so many memories with in my (not quite) 21 years of living, the man who will live on in my memories. My grief is dotted around. It lives the spotting of fish. It lives in my houseplants, the ones he helped choose. It lives in our favourite sweets. It lives in emails, stolen marshmallows and Christmas gatherings and warm hugs.

It lives in garden centre breakfasts.

Shawna Lemay wrote in Transactions With Beauty, Gifts and Limitations:

“Although I love flowers very much, I won't see them when I'm gone. So in lieu of flowers: Buy a book of poetry written by someone still alive, sit outside with a cup of tea, a glass of wine, and read it out loud, or silently, by yourself, or to someone. … In lieu of flowers, I would wish for you to flower. I would wish for you to blossom, to open, to be beautiful. I would wish for you to align your soul, for a time, with flowers.”

In lieu of flowers, here’s to more garden centre breakfasts.

Beginnings are hard.

Beginnings are hard, thank you Substack. I have been flicking back and forth over starting this page for… probably 6 months, finally started to set it up a month ago and at long last, we made it. And yes, I am aware I am cross-posting this to tumblr. I thought I would give it a go on both, as I’m trying something a little new here to my content online entirely.

I never imagined this would be my first post. I had hoped this wouldn’t be something I would write until, at the very least, the Summer but instead on this rainy Sunday in March I am saying good bye. I am lucky I have not experienced grief many times in my life thus far, and so I am learning how to navigate it, one step at a time.

#grief

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solidhollow · 2 years ago

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An ounce of comfort had me crawling back here, but I’ll be damned if I’ve found it. So much time has passed and so much has changed, but sometimes-like now-it’s like nothing has. I’m tired of talking to ghosts, tired of being stuck in inaccessible pasts. You fuckers would be somewhat proud of me though: I’m sober, I’m about to start EMT school which I’m a combination of excited and terrified (what’s new) but I think I’m going to be really great at it, and after a lot I’m stable in ways I’ve never known: I’m safe, I don’t have seizures anymore, I know my name, I can talk and speak up, I can go outside in public, and I fight like hell to do what makes me happy every single day even if I’m terrified. It’s lonely as hell though, I’ve never been much for lying and now is not the time to start. This whole living thing was a lot easier when I wasn’t sober, when I couldn’t remember anything, when I couldn’t feel anything. I wouldn’t erase my past if I could, I just wish I could do it different; wish I could be different for everyone. I know that’s what the present is for and I’m working on it, but 1) you’re all dead so none of this matters to you guys 2) those that are alive I’m so far out of touch with—they know a me that absolutely existed but is so fucking different/who did and said so many fucked up things. I’ve been eating my shame and reaching out, trying to reconnect but for most it seems impossible or unwanted or not allowed or not like the right thing to do. So I’m stuck here, writing to ghosts and trying to convince absolutely no one that maybe this time I’m different in ways that matter, that I’m working on it, that I’m so fucking sorry and I’m aware I fucked up and I’m working to never fuck up in those ways again. It took a lot + a very long fall well past rock bottom to realize it/to do the work but I’m doing it. Does it completely undermine all that if I say how much I wish just one of you were here with me? Trust me, I get it: I gotta be able to do this shit on my own because no one or thing is guaranteed. But I can’t erase the impact anyone of you has had on me..I can still see you, still dream of you, still smell you, still feel you. Dead or alive I can’t forget. I’m moving on, carrying pieces of you fuckers with me everyday but damn what I wouldn’t give for a time machine. You ever realized how much you absolutely fucked up your life? I ran from everything and everyone for so long. I lost everyone, pawned off all my possessions, lost myself entirely yet somewhere along the way I realized so much. And I’m violently grateful, I mean truly I was stuck fleeing city to city running away, hiding to stay alive, and just so stuck in survival mode that I’m not sure how I’m still here. I’m learning so much in such a short time though: what it means to feel safe (or what it’s supposed to mean, apparently that’s gonna take some time but I’m working on it), leaning how to ask for help, learning how to communicate, learning how to trust myself, and learning who I am outside of surviving/what it means to live. So yes, I’ve made a lot of progress and yes this is likely the healthiest/happiest I’ve ever been both physically and mentally. But I’d be lying if I said the grief and regret and fear doesn’t drown me sometimes. Some moments are better than others, and some are like now: where even despite my progress, I’m still craving the past. Not the chaos or trauma or other bullshit, just any one of you fuckers. I’d give it all up for one hour, one minute, one hug, one anything. I hate that you’re all gone, I can’t really understand how—whether dead or so entirely separated from me now—I’m here alone. Even if I’m not, I still am? Letting new people or really anyone get to know me is so confusing and I’m so terrified to get it wrong, to slip into previous habits and erase all the progress I’m fighting so hard for. C your last words to me seemed so simple but here I am entirely struggling to put them into action despite my efforts. I’ll keep trying though. Forever. Even once we meet up again. I miss you. I’ll love you all always.

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appt22a · 6 months ago

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September

I have always been curious about the body’s internal clock. How it stores data from our lives, to the extent that it understands the seasons and time. I have always believed the body is so much more sensitive and intuitive than we have even begun to understand. Our minds and bodies are hardwired for pattern recognition, which has kept us alive. September is just a month, and I’m not sure it’s possible our bodies are aware of the structures of time we now follow. I often see twos and ones on clocks, and I have gotten sick in September for the past five years. How much of that is a self-fulfilling prophecy? Who knows.

My dad was an engineer. A hardwired realist with an intellect too strong for his own good. I remember testing him, asking him to multiply numbers in the triple digits to see how fast he could do it in his head. There wasn’t a question he couldn’t answer. Me, on the other hand, was born with my head in the clouds. While my siblings were doing Sudoku puzzles at age four, I was putting cups of rose water out for the fairies in the garden.

He would always warn me about confirmation bias, trying to encourage the skeptic in me. I’m thankful for that. Which is why, when this achy feeling rolls around in September, I always question how much of it is placebo. Or can the body really hold on to memories and feelings associated with a man-made concept such as “September”?

They always say you never really lose someone because they live inside you. And it’s true—I see and hear my parents all the time. Sometimes in ways I wish I didn’t. I see my mother in literature, opal, gardens, and mirrors. I see my father in science, sitcoms, Judaism, and Rubik’s cubes.

I lost them both in my early 20s, in September. I’m 25 now. And I was thrown down the steep and bumpy road that is your early 20s without training wheels—or even a helmet, for that matter (if you had given me one, I wouldn’t have worn it anyways). Life has been a harsh but clever teacher. And I’m a naive and stubborn student. I feel like I fell and scraped my knees so many times, it feels like a miracle I was able to get back up sometimes.

Since we were young, we were all promised grief. It is a part of all of our scripts. But when it’s yours, it feels so deep and profound it’s hard to imagine it’s anything but yours.

Death has taught me a depth of love and compassion I didn't know was possible. Grief opened a depth of love and yearning I didn't know I was capable of. I remember it closed me off at first—anger is a great protector. But underneath it is a very tender part of us. My practice now is a process of opening. We are all so obsessed with our own stories. I feel tired of my own narrative at times, and I have definitely lost myself in it at times. At the end of the day, our delusions of grandeur are what keep us going. I try to laugh at myself more now. There I go again. I know I'm getting better now, though. I feel excited to play the game.

I feel lighter than I have in years these past couple months.

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daintymechas · 7 months ago

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Update: It's taken me a few days to work through the grieving process in order to write this properly. Unfortunately, Little Foot has passed away. On July 21st @ 0050. Just a day and a half after taking her to her last vet visit.

I already wrote a eulogy post dedicated to her on my FB for friends and family to be made aware. But I'm writing here to dump my more personal thoughts that I don't want to burden them with. It's just... very traumatic stuff. So, TW: death of a pet

Since the moment I noticed the signs that Little Foot was at end stage renal failure, I knew this was going to be difficult. But this hit me so goddamn hard.

Since my last post, her condition had gotten worse. I did manage to get her to eat a little bit. I had some leftover wet food in paste form and mixed it with water to help her eat more comfortably. The following day, I begrudgingly had to go to work. That was the longest 8 hours. Whenever there was a lull between tasks, all I could think about was getting back home. The idea of walking into my apartment and seeing that I was too late... that would devastate me. I wanted to at least be there with her in her final moments. It's the very least I could do for her.

When I finally got back home, I was relieved somewhat to see she was still breathing. I say somewhat because her health was still in rapid decline, though... At that point, she wasn't able to move from her torso down at all, as if she was paralyzed. Her body temperature was lower, too. Every now and then, she'd struggle to raise herself up on her front paws. At first, I thought that her doing that was just her fighting to pick herself up to eat/drink. So I braced her up, grabbed her water bowl, and brought it close to her face to help. And that's when I noticed her front paws were slightly twitching. She wasn't fighting to get up. She was actively having seizures. Fuck. I lost my shit at that point. I wish I had picked up on that sooner. This is really fuckin' bad. At this rate, I just knew she wasn't going to last much longer.

I decided at that point that I was going to lay by her side. I grabbed a pillow and large blanket, tucked both her and myself in, and just comforted her by talking to her and petting/kissing her. We laid like that on the floor for 4 hours. At some point, exhaustion finally got to me, and I dozed off. I don't remember how long. When I woke up, she was still breathing but didn't seem very responsive when I would pet her. I remember wondering if she could even hear or see me. It was so hard to tell. I stayed there for another 30 minutes, monitoring and comforting her. Finally, I sat up and told her, "I'll be right back, sweetie. I promise. Okay?" and kissed her forehead before leaving the room. I took that moment to go outside to smoke and decompress real quick, trying my best to calm down. After that, I came back inside, laid down next to her, and while grabbing onto her paw and stroking it, I vividly recalled saying, "I'm back, sweetheart. I'm right here. It's okay."

And that was the moment... right after I said that. What happened next is something I'll never forget. It's burned into my memory and still fuckin' haunts me... She tilted her head back slightly as if to stretch. Paused. Then she jerked back with an exhaled wheeze... and she was gone. I can't tell you how many times I've cried throughout this whole process. I've honestly lost count. However, this was the most intense bout of grief by far. I broke down in tears. Went into shock. Deep down, I rationally knew she had just passed away, but my mind was still functioning in full denial mode. All that could escape my lips with was "No no no no" and crying out her name over and over. There were moments... where she exhaled afterward in spurts. 6-8 times total. Each time, it terrified me. But I thought she was still there... I couldn't see her chest move through my tears. I couldn't feel it with my hand on her... maybe because I'm shaking? But maybe she's still alive? I pressed my ear to her side to try and hear a heartbeat. She exhaled again, scared the shit out of me, and I flew back and cried harder. I knew what that was... that she was already gone... but my mind just couldn't accept it. The realization didn't hit until I had to move her in order to properly wrap her up. And even then... I found myself hesitating when I had to put the blanket over her face. I didn't want to. I thought, 'But what if she can't breathe like that? She'll suffocate.' It took a long time, but I had finally managed to gently wrap her and move her to the front door.

That night felt like it dragged on forever. I couldn't just bury her. Even if that was legal in Japan, I don't like the idea of one day having to leave her there when it's time to come back home. I won't abandon Little Foot like that. So I had to wait 8 hours until the pet funeral home opened so I could cremate her. It was hard, having to pass by her like that in the apartment while I waited. I was lucky enough that the funeral home was able to take her in that morning. But fuck, having to pick her up to get her there was heartbreaking. She was stiff... I will never get used to that feeling. It freaks me out so much. And it only served as a reminder that my sweet bean is gone.

I am grateful that the staff at this funeral home were very nice and accommodating. I didn't catch his name, but this guy saw I was in distress when I had to pick her up out of the passenger seat of my car. He rushed over and carefully took her out of my arms to carry back inside. We went into some kind of prayer room where I got to say my final goodbye. When I came back later to pick up her remains, she was given a very traditional yet beautiful white box to place her urn in. While it felt final, seeing her in that way now, I strangely felt at ease. The hardest part for both of us is over. Little Foot can finally be at peace.

When I took her home, I made it a point to clear off an entire shelf just for her. I still need to get a few decorations, mementos and a picture frame for her little shrine space. But in the meantime, I figured "when in Rome" and laid out some offerings of food/water and a bag of kitty treats for her. I'm starting to warm up to the idea of doing that often. And Obon is coming up soon. So I'll celebrate that in her memory too.

It's been 4 days now since Little Foot has passed on. The grief still hits me every now and then. But it's slowly starting to get easier. And even though it was the most saddening and, frankly, traumatizing thing to witness her in her final moment. I'm so glad I was able to keep my promise and be there for her. Knowing that she wasn't alone. I know it might be silly for me to say this... but while part of me tries to rationize that coming back in when I did was merely coincidental timing, I would rather give into the hope that Little Foot could hear and understand me. That she held on long enough for me to come back, and my words assured her that it was okay now to move on. I sincerely hope that being there was able to help her in any way. I love and miss her. So, so much.

#personal

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plumblossomcafe · 7 months ago

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A Strange and Friendless Road (2/3)

Paimon: Hey there, we'd like to ask you a quick question. Do you know if anyone around here has been looking for him? For Kaedehara Kazuha, we mean!

Ryuuji: Aha, so this is the renowned Mr. Kaedehara! I've heard a lot about you. It is an honor to finally meet you today.

Kaedehara Kazuha: You are too kind. We are currently investigating an assault and would appreciate any help you can offer.

Ryuuji: Oh? You were targeted in an assault? Let me think... I can't seem to recall anything of immediate interest. Mr. Kaedehara is currently the talk of the town, so there are always a lot of people looking for him. To be honest with you, our Detective Agency has recently been receiving many inquiries from people wishing to obtain Mr. Kaedehara's personal information. Some of them were offering us millions of Mora just to gather the information they wanted. If these were more legitimate commissions, Sango would have snapped them up in an instant.

Paimon: M—Millions of Mora!? Whoa... wait, even at that price, you probably still shouldn't...

Y/n: But, isn't that, I don't know, illegal!?!

Kaedehara Kazuha: Please accept my thanks for looking out for my privacy.

Y/n: "I just realized that Aether and Kazuha look similar"

Ryuuji: Of course. No matter what, we only take on legitimate cases. We don't make our money by revealing details of other people's day-to-day life just for the sake of it. Sorry, I got a little off-topic. What I'm really trying to say is that it doesn't surprise me that a complete stranger is looking for Mr. Kaedehara. But I wouldn't know where to begin if we want to connect this with an assault...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Then let's put that connection aside for now. Have there been any other attacks or similar incidents recently that stand out as particularly unusual? The Tenryou Commission had very few leads. I thought you might have some information from different sources.

Ryuuji: It's true that the Commissioners aren't clued up about every little thing that goes on out in the streets. But typically, it's only the most trivial events that manage to escape their attention... If anyone had been out there attacking people, that would be assault, in which case the Tenryou Commission would absolutely get involved.

Paimon: Th—That does make sense... Uh-oh, looks like the trail's already run cold.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I still find it difficult to believe that whoever attacked Aether hasn't been causing any trouble elsewhere... Few people possess yours and Y/n's prowess in battle. So unless you were the first person he targeted, someone is certain to have been hurt by now.

Aether: Is this your way of giving praise?

Y/n: It was also not easy for Aether to fight him off. I couldn't even fight him because he refused to hit me claiming that, "Women are weak and shouldn't be even fighting in the first place, they should be at home cooking and taking care of kids instead" that made me mad, hmph! *pouting*

Kaedehara Kazuha: *laughs a bit* I am well aware of both your talents. There is no need to be humble around me. In fact, I'm quite relieved that Aether was the one he targeted and decided not to hurt you, my lady. It would cause me great grief to see someone become critically injured or lose their life because of me. For the poor victim, this would be a completely senseless crime.

Paimon: Don't worry, we'll find him!

Ryuuji: It seems you are every bit the selfless hero they make you out to be, Mr. Kaedehara. Surely, this same concern for your fellow man is what drove you to fearlessly raise your blade against the Almighty Shogun.

Kaedehara Kazuha: You flatter me. Truth be told, I don't know quite what came over me in that moment...

Ryuuji: Haha, you are much too humble. Don't worry, I completely understand your concerns. I will try my best to gather whatever leads I can for you. Oh, actually, there was one strange incident over the last few days. It doesn't involve an attack, though. Let me tell you about it, just in case.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Sure. During times like this, the more information we have, the better.

Ryuuji: Alright then. Recently, two people went missing from the city at around the same time. One of them is a pretty well-known collector, surname Nagato. The other, Amenoma Yuuya, is a samurai from the Amenoma Clan.

Paimon: Amenoma... now there's a familiar name.

Ryuuji: Right. Yuuya is the nephew of Amenoma Tougo, the owner of Amenoma Smithy. Two grown men are going missing at the same time... their cases are likely connected, but I don't know much in the way of details. I recalled this because Amenoma Yuuya is also an accomplished martial artist who is skilled with the blade. Perhaps he is the one you are looking for.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Understood, though it seems highly unlikely to me... I neither know this man nor do I have any idea why he may wish to attack me.

Y/n: Let's consider this a favor for Ryuuji. We'll investigate both incidents at the same time.

Paimon: Sure, can't hurt! We never know what we might find out along the way.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Thank you, Ryuuji. We'll start by making some inquiries at the Amenoma Smithy.

Ryuuji: Sounds good. All the best with your investigation. I'll get moving shortly myself.

While heading there, Y/n decided to tell a story that she barely remembered.

Y/n: I think I remember that back in Mondstadt, Jean told me that some guy was willing to pay her two million Mora just so they could get an article of one of my undergarments or a chunk of my hair.

All: ...

Paimon: Now that was just disgusting and disturbing.

Y/n: True, I still don't know who that guy was. He stopped immediately, though, after Jean threatened to put him in jail.

Amenoma Tougo: Ah, if it isn't Kaedehara Kazuha and Tomo! What brings you both here today?

Paimon: Huh? You three know each other?

Tomo: I used to come here in order to fix my sword or make some adjustments to it.

Kaedehara Kazuha: As for me, the Kaedehara and Amenoma Clans were both members of the Raiden Gokaden. Historically, there have always been deep links between the two clans. After me and Tomo returned to Inazuma, we visited Mr. Amenoma to pay our respects.

Y/n: "Raiden Gokaden"?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Ah, let me quickly explain. The Raiden Gokaden was the collective term for the five most acclaimed bladesmithing arts in Inazuma. The techniques of blade-making were personally bequeathed to the Raiden Gokaden by the Almighty Shogun, and over time, further honed and enhanced by the most talented craftsmen. Unfortunately, a series of events led to the gradual decline of many clans in the bladesmithing trade. Today, only the Amenoma Clan has kept its art alive.

Paimon: So sad...

Amenoma Tougo: *sigh* It is a great pity indeed. In the old days, we each had our specialties, and just as iron sharpens iron, so too did we learn much from each other. As an example, the Amenoma Art strives to emulate the abiding patience and determination of water as it turns stone to sand. There is nothing mystical to our work. There is only practice, day in and day out, until both body and mind have memorized the craft, turning each motion of every technique into an intrinsic part of the bladesmith's life. As for the art of the Kaedehara Clan... I believe it's called the "Isshin Art."

Kaedehara Kazuha: That's right. Isshin Art strives for complete harmony between blade and mind from the moment that forging begins. For only a blade thus forged can capture and convey its maker's thoughts and feelings, and eventually become an extension of its wielder's will.

Y/n: So cool!

Amenoma Tougo: Indeed. Most samurai choose their blades, but an Isshin blade chooses its owner. You are, without a doubt, the most worthy wielder of an Isshin blade... It gladdens my heart to see that although the Kaedehara Clan has fallen on hard times, its ideals and virtues are alive and well.

Kaedehara Kazuha: You overestimate me. My actions are guided by my own personal sentiments, not by any noble aspirations on behalf of my clan. But let's get back on topic. The purpose of our visit today is to gather some information on your missing nephew.

Tomo: We hope to assist with the investigation. It may turn out that this case is connected to another we are pursuing.

Amenoma Tougo: Ah yes, my nephew... *sigh* I reported the case to the Tenryou Commission, but I haven't heard anything back so far. He didn't say a word before he left, which is very unlike him. I'm still completely at a loss on what to make of it. But I've done what I can so far. Worrying is futile, all I can do now is wait for the news from the Tenryou Commission.

Paimon: We heard that there was a collector involved in the disappearance too. Know anything about that?

Amenoma Tougo: Yes. On the morning that Yuuya went missing, he gave me a very cryptic look and said that he was going to give me a great gift. I believe he went to collect the item from Mr. Nagato after that. The next thing I heard was that a fire had broken out at the warehouse, and neither of them came back...

Y/n: *worried* A fire!?

Amenoma Tougo: Yes. Strange, isn't it? I wonder what could have caused it? Unfortunately, there was very little evidence left behind, so nobody knows what really happened...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Hmm... Do you have any thoughts on what Yuuya may have wanted to give you?

Amenoma Tougo: If I had to guess... it must have been some kind of rare weapon. Otherwise, there would have been no reason for him to get my hopes up. He's never been particularly interested in blade-forging, but has always had a fondness for blade-testing, and can sense even the most minute differences in blade quality. He is extraordinarily talented in martial arts, particularly when it comes to the art of the sword.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Truth be told, we have some information that you may find to be objectionable. The person we are looking for... he attacked this friend of mine. Based on the evidence we have gathered so far, only Yuuya seems to match the suspect's profile.

Amenoma Tougo: What? No, absolutely impossible. Yuuya is not that kind of person. He is humble and kind. Even his training is done with the goal of calming his mind. He has never gotten into a fight before.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Huh, is that so...

Amenoma Tougo: Yes. If there's one thing I can say for certain, it's that Yuuya would never draw his blade without a very good reason. But with that said, it's equally out of character for him to just disappear with neither farewell nor fair warning. I also cannot know what course of action he might be capable of if coerced, or otherwise compelled by circumstances unbeknownst to me... Anyway, should you find him, please let me know as soon as possible.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Don't worry. You have our word.

Paimon: Hmm... from the sound of that, Paimon doesn't think Yuuya was the one who attacked us as well.

Y/n: We still need to get the info from the Nagato family.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Yes. It sounds as if something happened when the two men met each other.

Tomo: Let's pay a visit to the Nagato household.

Nagato Sachiko: I'm very sorry, but we cannot afford to pay what we owe right now... My husband has gone missing, and I'm still trying to find him.

Kaedehara Kazuha: No, no, you misunderstand us. We are here to help with the investigation. We'd like to ask you some questions about Mr. Nagato's disappearance, if we may.

Nagato Sachiko: Ah, I see... I thought the debt collectors had come to visit again. I'm sorry you have to see me in this dreadful state... Has some new information come out? Do you know where he's gone?

Kaedehara Kazuha: I'm afraid we don't have any new information at the moment. We're still trying to find out as much as we can to inform our search. With this in mind, can we perhaps ask some questions about your family's current situation?

Paimon: For example, Paimon's struggling to understand why a collector would be strapped for Mora...

Nagato Sachiko: *sigh* That's a long story. Ever since I've known him, he's been an avid collector of all sorts of things... He'd always get so animated when he was showing them to me... I knew nothing about the items myself, but seeing how enthusiastic and excited they made him, I was happy to believe that they were just extremely important to him. Everything was fine when we first got married. But as time went by, things changed for the worse...

Paimon: Uh-oh, what happened?

Nagato Sachiko: He lost his sense of restraint. He started buying more and more things, and even resorted to borrowing money just so he could pay for them. Our expenses really spiraled out of control when he started getting interested in weapons. It was awful. There were days when he'd spend hours down at the warehouse admiring his weapons even as debt collectors were descending upon our house. He wouldn't sell them, wouldn't even touch them. Just sat there staring at them, like he was in a trance. I'm happy he has a hobby and I'm willing to support him, but making ends meet has to come first. I've tried talking to him about it so many times, but he never listens... On the last day that I saw him, I gave him an ultimatum... I said, if he refused to sell his collectibles and pay off his debts, I would divorce him and take the children with me.

Paimon: Whoa...!

Kaedehara Kazuha: And that led to an argument...

Nagato Sachiko: Actually, it didn't. Generally, he's a quiet man who likes to go with the flow. On most things, he leaves the decision-making to me. You must understand, I never would have dreamed of threatening him with divorce if the debts hadn't pushed our family to the brink... After I said those words, he froze, and was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, he awkwardly mumbled that he would pick out a few items to sell. His voice was so meek and pitiful that I felt an urge to take everything back. But then what? If I didn't draw the line, what would happen to our family?

Tomo: Even if I'm not in a relationship, I can say for sure that you did the right thing. It's important to set boundaries.

Kaedehara Kazuha: You were in a relationship once Tomo, your girlfriend just left you because she didn't like the fact that you traveled, and plus, she cheated on you.

Tomo: Hey you didn't have to say that!!!

Nagato Sachiko: Had I not indulged his bad habits, we would not have found ourselves in such a predicament. And I also don't know if he had actually come to his senses, or if he was simply angry with me... The next thing I heard was that our warehouse had caught fire, and both he and the buyer had gone missing.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I see. I understand. Amenoma Yuuya came to purchase a weapon from Mr. Nagato. During the sale, a fire broke out at the warehouse, and both men disappeared.

Nagato Sachiko: At first, I assumed they must have gotten into an argument over the price... But my husband has never been one to negotiate. He never even haggles when he's out buying groceries, so it's hard to imagine him getting into a fierce argument.

Y/n: Hmm... maybe he was feeling the pressure from the debts?

Nagato Sachiko: I don't know. He just disappeared after the warehouse burned down. Perhaps he's too afraid to come home now that all his collectibles have been lost in the fire, and he's got no way to pay off our debts. *sigh* Even though I'm still a little mad at him, we're a family, and I want us to face our family's crisis together. As long as he's willing to turn over a new leaf, I know we can work things out...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Please don't get upset. There could be more to this situation than meets the eye. If collecting things is a habit that Mr. Nagato has had his whole life, it is quite unusual for this habit to change so drastically over a short period. But the information we gathered from the other side suggests Amenoma Yuuya is also a mild-mannered man who would not be likely to start an argument. Hmm... this situation is getting a little confusing.

Paimon: "A little confusing"? More like completely mystifying.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Let's try a change of scenery, and see if we can piece together what we've learned. Rest assured, we'll notify you if we find anything.

Nagato Sachiko: Ah, thank you so much. I just want him to come home...

Y/n: *takes out a medium sized bag of Mora from her bag* Mrs.Nagato, you can have this *hands her the bag of Mora* They're my savings, you can use them to help you out with the debts in the meantime.

Nagato Sachiko: There's no need for that young lady.

Y/n: I insist.

Nagato Sachiko: Thank you, may the Shogun bless you.

Kazuha, Tomo, Aether, Y/n, and Paimon move to a nearby location

Kaedehara Kazuha: Based on the information we've gathered so far, I can only surmise that the sales meeting between the two men was somehow the catalyst for their disappearance. The fire at the warehouse likely played a part in how the situation unfolded, though its exact role is a mystery.

Tomo: ...Do you guys have any thoughts?

Paimon: Eh? Um, well... Paimon was thinking that maybe someone accidentally knocked over an oil lamp, and um... Nope, never mind, Paimon's brain needs to rest for a while. Over to you!

Y/n: Perhaps the fire was deliberately used to hide the truth.

Kaedehara Kazuha: An interesting explanation. I was also considering this possibility. Amenoma Yuuya is an expert on swords. He could have noticed some problematic details about Mr. Nagato's collectibles. Maybe he recognized a blade as a fake or a well-known stolen item. Either way, after arguing about it, the two men agreed to hide the truth of this matter. They thought a fire would destroy everything, but then the Tenryou Commission began investigating and uncovered some incriminating details, so they fled to protect their secrets... But it's a far-fetched theory... I can't imagine how they would have been able to reach an agreement. One fact that I keep coming back to is that Amenoma Yuuya is polite and well-mannered, while Mr. Nagato is introverted and passive. Neither seems like the type of person who is inclined towards initiating conflict. Mr. Nagato, being heavily in debt, is also the only one of them with a potential motive to disappear after the fire. The more I ponder it, the more puzzling it becomes... just what could have happened there?

Aether: This also doesn't seem connected to the case of the attacker.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Right. Although the time frame seems to broadly match, no other details that we've learned seem to link the two events together. Amenoma Yuuya lacks a key distinguishing feature of the attacker — namely, that he is principally a practitioner of the blade-testing techniques of Amenoma Art, not those of the combat-oriented Isshin Art.

Paimon: Darn, we thought we could get two birds with one stone here, but at this rate, it's starting to look like a wild goose chase...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Hmm... Let's keep going, since we've come this far. If we can solve the case, both Mr. Amenoma and Mrs. Nagato will be able to get some closure.

Paimon: Okay, but where should we go now?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Let's head out of the city and check out the warehouse. There's still a chance we may be able to find some shreds of evidence.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Wait. I hear something ominous in the wind.

Paimon: Ohh, this must be another one of those sounds that only you can hear. As sketchy as that whole thing seems, you did put it to good use when we were chasing down that Vision thief at Beidou's tournament, so...

Aether: I knew we could count on you.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Hmm, now I'm picking up a strong scent in addition to the sound. It's right around here somewhere...

Paimon: But there's nothing here.

Kaedehara Kazuha: It's gone now. But I can still sense the direction it left in. It felt very much like that ancient presence in Inazuma... the remnants of the Tatarigami.

Y/n: Tatarigami... That's one thing I didn't expect to encounter here.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Indeed. But this unexpected spring of inauspicious energy may prove to be of benefit to our investigation. We should remain vigilant and approach slowly.

They approach a trapdoor

Paimon: Huh, so it's an underground warehouse...

Kaedehara Kazuha: The force is definitely coming from down below. The source of the Tatarigami energy has long since left this place, but the residue it left behind still hasn't dissipated completely. Judging from the concentration... I would have to conclude that the Tatarigami source resided here for a very long time.

Paimon: Mrs. Nagato said her husband used to hang around the warehouse by himself a lot.

Kaedehara Kazuha: It could well be that he was already under the influence of Tatarigami energy at that time.

Aether: Surely someone would have noticed?

Kaedehara Kazuha: From what I've been told... Tatarigami does not turn all upon whom it preys into violent monsters. But most will develop a stubborn streak upon being exposed to the Tatarigami's unfulfilled will. Their interests become fanatical obsessions. Mr. Nagato had an interest in collecting to begin with. The influence of Tatarigami could explain why he became an obsessive hoarder, amassing more and more possessions even as he put himself in grave debt.

Paimon: Um... so what should we do now? Go down and take a look?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Step back. I'll open the door and take a look inside.

Aether: That's dangerous.

Kaedehara Kazuha: If we don't open this door, we can move no closer to the truth. You needn't worry. All of us have faced far greater dangers than this. Relatively speaking, the risk here is trivial.

Kazuha opens the door

Kaedehara Kazuha: Ah... hmm...

Paimon: What's down there?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Everything's buried in debris. I can't see anything. It looks like the fire caused a cave-in, reducing the entire warehouse to rubble.

Y/n: So, in the end, it was just a scare. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing...

Paimon: That was too scary! Paimon was so sure that the warehouse bogeyman was about to jump out at us...

Kaedehara Kazuha: All we can do now is keep searching in the direction that the Tatarigami energy's source left this place. Two ordinary humans, entangled with the Tatarigami... I fear much misfortune has already befallen them.

Y/n: *holding her head* I don't like this much negative energy from the Tatarigami. It's giving me a headache.

Tomo: *patting her head* I think it's best if we leave not only for Y/n's sake but for our sake too.

Aether: Let's hurry then. We can not afford to delay any longer.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Yes, let's go. If nothing else, it's vital that we find out where this Tatarigami energy is coming from. Quiet your mind and focus on what you sense around you... perhaps you, too, will perceive its ominous presence in the wind.

After following the trail, approaching hilichurls and defeating the hilichurls.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I—It's...

Paimon: Agh! Look at this red stuff... Wh—What is it?

Kaedehara Kazuha: By the looks of it, a letter written on a piece of torn clothing. The ink is bone-dry... it must have been written quite some time ago.

Tomo: Well, let's take a look.

They reveal the strip of clothing and begin to read. The words seem to have been penned by Nagato, and according to him, Amenoma Yuuya was the one who took his blade. But Nagato himself seems to have disappeared as well...

I am Nagato. I was wounded by Amenoma Yuuya. He took my most precious blade. I chased him but could not catch him. I lay down here to rest on account of my exhaustion. I thought that I might croak right here — my stomach kept on bleeding! But it seems that some strange power has sustained me...

Why did he steal that blade? I was going to sell it to him! He even burned my warehouse down!

Agh, it hurts. It hurts! But for some reason, I can't fall unconscious, so all I can do to distract from the pain is write.

What will happen to Sachiko, Yuuichi, and Yuuji...

I'm sorry to them. I really am. Only now do I realize how stuck in my ways I was and how blind to my obsession! I must have been cursed...

I collected all those strange and bizarre things, but they won me not one iota of happiness or warmth. Put all of it together, and it still wouldn't have been worth a single word from her mouth.

Thank you... and sorry for letting you down, Sachiko.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Mm-hmm... According to this letter, a conflict arose because Amenoma Yuuya wanted to seize a blade belonging to Mr. Nagato. Yuuya started the fire that destroyed the warehouse and wounded Mr. Nagato in the fight. Mr. Nagato kept chasing as long as he could, eventually stopping here to write this letter when his strength gave out.

Paimon: So... where is he...?

Kaedehara Kazuha: He was not only mortally wounded but also under the heavy influence of Tatarigami. Add to that the fact that its aura seems to have attracted a horde of monsters, and... I'm afraid he may no longer be with us. Whatever traces there may have been of his fate beyond after this point, they've since been disturbed by the hilichurls. There's nothing more for us to find here.

Aether: Let's ask the Tenryou Commission to do a thorough search later. There are more important things right now.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Yes, right now, we need to uncover some more important truths. If Amenoma Yuuya is attacking other people indiscriminately, then the longer we take to find him, the more people risk meeting the same tragic end.

Paimon: Right, so let's get moving!

Y/n: *has her hand on her chin* How did it come to this... It's not in his nature.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I wouldn't be surprised if he, too, fell prey to the influence of the Tatarigami. For a practitioner of the martial arts, the easiest desire to inflame would be their pursuit of further power and skill. All the clues that at first seemed disparate and disconnected... it seems that now we know the thread that runs between them. I have a hypothesis that, if it's correct, not only explains the series of events leading to the two men's disappearance but also zeroes in on the attacker's identity.

Paimon: ...Wait, you've figured it out? So, are these two cases connected after all?

Kaedehara Kazuha: I believe so... but it's something of an outlandish idea. I will only be able to confirm my suspicions once we've met him in person. On with the search. We must stay vigilant. At any point now, we may find ourselves in danger.

Kaedehara Kazuha: He seems to have stayed here for a long time.

Paimon: Why here? Is there anything special about this place?

Kaedehara Kazuha: I'm not sure... but on closer examination, I sense that the aura may have lingered here at several different points in time......

Tomo: Kazuha? What's wrong?

Kaedehara Kazuha: *shouts* Show yourself! It's no use hiding anymore!

???: Hmph. Kaedehara Kazuha... it's you, at last.

Paimon: Aha! So it IS the same guy from before!

Y/n: What's your problem, huh? What could you possibly have against Kazuha!?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Indeed, there should be no enmity between us... if it is Amenoma Yuuya that stands before us. But what if instead of facing Amenoma Yuuya... we are, in fact, facing the blade in his hand?

Aether: ...The blade?

Y/n: Now that you mention it, it is giving off a strange light...

Paimon: Whoa, whoa, surely you don't mean... Are you serious!?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Tatarigami energy often lodges itself within physical objects, then works to subtly affect any living organisms in its vicinity. The blade has resided in Mr. Nagato's warehouse for many years, affecting his state of mind, and more recently using the sale as a means to affect... Or rather, as a means to occupy Amenoma Yuuya's body.

???: Hmph. You're sharper than I thought. You've already deduced the truth of the matter.

Prized Isshin Blade: Many, many years ago, I was forged by a famed bladesmith of the Isshin tradition. I was his pride and joy. In me, he placed all his hopes and dreams. As a descendant of the Kaedehara Clan, you should be able to guess our greatest regret.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I presume it has something to do with the Raiden Gokaden.

Prized Isshin Blade: Indeed. At that point in time, he failed to live up to the Raiden Shogun's expectations. In the end, all he could do was flee the nation by sea, on a ship bound for Snezhnaya. He was a bladesmith of great renown, a master of his craft! There was nothing that he could not accomplish! All he needed was more time and a little faith. And sure enough, in the end, he achieved what he had set out to do. All of his life's work — his wisdom, his skill — it culminated in his creation of me. He not only bestowed upon me the greatest of strength but also endowed me with a consciousness of my own... In her conceit, the Raiden Shogun lost not only the single most perfect blade in the entire world but also an irreplaceable achievement in the art of blade-forging!

Paimon: So... swords can become conscious? And... control people!?

Prized Isshin Blade: The people of the time in which I was born never believed I had that kind of power. They saw me as a mere blade — a sharp and well-crafted one, but in all other respects, an ordinary weapon. Hmph, but that gave me the opportunity to take action. After the death of my creator, I decided to leave Snezhnay and began my long quest to return to the distant land of Inazuma. Moving from one person to the next, I controlled the minds of countless hosts along the way, each bringing me one step closer to my ancestral home. I seek but one thing: to face the full force of the Raiden Shogun's blade and prove my power, the might of Isshin Art!

Y/n: So Amenoma Yuuya was not your first victim, is what you're trying to say.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Tell me, what happens to those you've possessed when you've finished using them?

Prized Isshin Blade: My hosts? Who cares what happens to them. They are but tools that serve my mission. When they got tired, or injured, or unusable, I hopped to the next one in line. All I needed them for was to take me back to Inazuma.

Paimon: You're awful!

Prized Isshin Blade: After I returned to Inazuma, I decided to bide my time in Nagato's warehouse until Amenoma Yuuya handed himself over to me on a silver platter. At long last, I am approaching my journey's destination. By Amenoma Yuuya's body, I have found you, and by your hand, I shall defeat the Raiden Shogun! Kaedehara Kazuha, you stood against the Raiden Shogun's Musou no Hitotachi. There can be no other to serve as my host for what is to come. Now, give your body over to me!

Tomo: *drew his sword out* Like Kazuha would do that.

After defeating the opponent

Prized Isshin Blade: Do not stand in my way, or I will strike you down, too!

Y/n: Your bluff's fooling no one. You've lost, just accept it!

Prized Isshin Blade: Lost? I can never lose. It is this body that has reached its limit, nothing more. Even if you defeat me here, the one who falls will not be me, but this man. He is but a puppet that can be replaced. I can take a new vessel at will.

Aether: Then we will smash you into pieces.

Prized Isshin Blade: The end result is the same! I will end this wretch's life before you can lift a finger. And even if I were to lose my physical form, it is but a small setback. My consciousness shall endure. By any means necessary and any medium available, I shall return and fulfill my destiny!

Kaedehara Kazuha: Your fighting style... it is indeed the forms of Isshin Art. But from your movements, I sense only hatred and arrogance, as well as a thinly veiled mania and despair.

Paimon: Really? You can tell all that just from his moves?

Kaedehara Kazuha: As I've mentioned before, the forms of Isshin Art convey the user's thoughts and feelings. Since the blade is currently possessing Amenoma Yuuya's body, its movements express the innermost thoughts of the blade. If you ask me, the mania is probably due to your desperate, single-minded ambition. You believe I am your only hope.

Prized Isshin Blade: Are you trying to claim that I am helpless without you? On his deathbed, he passed to me all of Isshin Art's secrets. The little that you know barely scratches the surface. In that regard, why would I ever need your help?

Kaedehara Kazuha: Because all of that is in the past. I've been wondering why you've not caused more trouble in all the years that you've been in Inazuma if you are indeed a cursed blade that can possess its owner. Now that I've seen inside your mind, everything finally makes sense. You weren't biding your time... you were trapped.

Prized Isshin Blade: Hmph...

Kaedehara Kazuha: After all the time that's passed, you have grown weak, to the point that you are now unable to acquire a new host without making physical contact.

Paimon: Ooh, that's right, Paimon remembers now! Mr. Nagato had a habit of never touching his collectibles!

Kaedehara Kazuha: Only when Mr. Nagato witnessed his wife's distress and decided to sell his collectibles. Did you finally have an opportunity to reach out to Amenoma Yuuya and make your escape.

Prized Isshin Blade: Hmph, what of it!

Kaedehara Kazuha: Well, that brings me to my second point. There's a despair in you that is so strong. It threatens to overwhelm you. You were determined to fulfill your maker's ambition, whatever the cost. But this ambition is too grand and too heavy for you to bear. Each step you have taken has come at a great cost. I think you realized your limitations long ago. The more you clenched your teeth and pressed forward, the greater your fear of losing everything you had achieved grew, and the more you wished to run from the truth. But the way I see it... what began as an ambition has long since become a delusional fantasy.

Prized Isshin Blade: What would you know about any of this? I'm just one step away from achieving my goal!

Kaedehara Kazuha: You returned to Inazuma to prove the unparalleled brilliance of Isshin Art. But to make this arduous journey, you committed countless atrocities and showed a blatant disregard for human life. Even if you were to sever that divine light... is this truly the outcome that your maker would have desired?

Prized Isshin Blade: You...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Sure, you inherited the secrets of Isshin Art, but even as you made your journey to honor this legacy, you treated the ones who wielded you as mere tools to do your bidding. How could you possibly unleash the full potential of Isshin Art when you act in perfect discordance with the principle of harmony between a blade and its bearer?

Prized Isshin Blade: Silence, you blabbering fool... I must achieve my goal. This was his life's dream and the very purpose for which I was brought into being. I will concede that you are most perceptive. You see my predicament clearly... but you also underestimate my resolve.

Kaedehara Kazuha: And you should face reality.

Tomo: *proud* "Get him, Kazuha!!!"

Prized Isshin Blade: Easy for you to say! Facing reality offers me nothing! I have no need of anything that would stand in my way. Not hesitation, not self-reflection, and certainly not your so-called reality! ... It is pointless to argue further, descendant of the Kaedehara Clan. If you wish to save this man, then offer me your body in exchange.

Kaedehara Kazuha: How stubbornly you stick to your wayward path... I do not believe for a second that you can challenge the Almighty Shogun in your current state. So let us make a bet, and I will put your strength to the test.

Y/n: *worried* What? Surely you're not planning to agree to his demands...

Prized Isshin Blade: Very well, then find yourself some enemies with whom you wish to cross blades. A taste of my power will more than convince you. Once we have dealt with them, we shall proceed to Tenshukaku.

Kaedehara Kazuha: And as for your end of the bargain, if you lose, you must release Amenoma Yuuya from your control.

Prized Isshin Blade: I accept.

Paimon: Don't do this, Kazuha!

Aether: This is a risky strategy.

Tomo: Kazuha, you do realize that you're dealing with a cursed blade that can possess people.

Kaedehara Kazuha: This is the only way to save Amenoma Yuuya. If we don't do this, he'll forever be the blade's puppet. The cursed blade's strength is currently very weak, and I sense he's hesitating. This suggests his heart is still not completely devoid of honor. The power of the Tatarigami lies in intensifying existing obsessions. This is the reason Mr. Nagato and Amenoma Yuuya fell prey to it. Since I don't have any similar kinds of obsessions, I should be able to put up some resistance for a while.

Paimon: But, even so...

Kaedehara Kazuha: Even if things take a turn for the worse, I still have you four here with me. We have a chance here to save an innocent victim. I am willing to accept the risks entailed.

Tomo: *sighs* Alright, fine. It's not like I can stop you.

Prized Isshin Blade: Your disdain for me betrays your woeful ignorance. I agreed to this bet because there are things I wish to learn, too. Now, take me in your hand.

The Isshin Blade flies into Kazuha's hands in order to fulfill the deal.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Ugh!

Paimon: Kazuha!

Kaedehara Kazuha: I... I'm okay... I felt a little dizzy at first, but only for a moment. It's alright. So far, this was as I expected.

Y/n: *worried* If something feels off, let us know immediately.

Kaedehara Kazuha: I will. Thank you.

Paimon: What should we do next? Have you got a plan, Kazuha?

Kaedehara Kazuha: We find some enemies. Although this blade has endured much turmoil, it probably hasn't experienced many real fights. If a blade built for Isshin Art can not enter a state of harmony between blade and bearer, it can not unleash its true power. If he wants to avoid reality, then we need to fight until he has no choice but to face it. He shouldn't last long in an intense combat situation.

Paimon: Wait a minute... Paimon remembers hearing about something from the Adventurers' Guild... Since the Takatsukasa Clan abandoned that secret base, it's been held by ronin ever since.

Tomo: That should fit the bill.

Kaedehara Kazuha: Ah, alright. Please lead the way.

Paimon: What about Amenoma Yuuya? What should we do with him?

Kaedehara Kazuha: The blade says he'll let Amenoma Yuuya trail us silently. Although he hasn't regained his own consciousness yet, he is not in any immediate danger.

Paimon: Are we sure this is a good idea? It's a pretty treacherous journey... Okay, fine... just be careful.

0 notes

weidaoduzun3 · 1 year ago

Text

Musing on Autumn Floods and How It Reminds Us of To "Know Thyself"

I want to talk about Chapter 17 of the Zhuangzi, Autumn Floods 秋水. Some things may be redundant from my previous posts on my musings of these outer and inner chapters of the Zhuangzi.

In the beginning of the chapter, we are introduced to two Chinese deities, Hebo, The Earl of the Yellow River, and Ruo, the God of the Northern Sea. Hebo traveled east to the Northern Sea, and upon gazing on the east and the endlessness of the Northern Sea, he is quite dazzled by the vastness of how far the water stretches eastward. Upon Hebo's perplexity, he addresses Ruo with the following proverb in 17.1.2: "though one has heard the Dao a hundred times, he still thinks no one is better than he -- which could be a saying meant exactly for me". And continues after the proverb as follows: "But now that I have seen your endless immensity with my own eyes, I realize that if I had not come to your gate I would have come to grief and been forever ridiculed by masters of the great method of the Dao."

This is to mean that Hebo, once believed himself to be the greatest of all bodies of water. That is, until he traveled east and gazed upon the vastness of the Northern Sea, which is why he exclaims in his amazement, "he still thinks no one is better than he -- which could be a saying meant exactly for me."

Guo Xiang expands on this by illuminating the fact that Hebo has realized just how small he actually is, in comparison with Ruo, The God of the Norther Sea. Upon this realization, he no longer feels that "no one is better than he." Hebo has realized that ones allotted capacity is something that is inherent, something bestowed by Heaven and cannot be altered.

Ruo then responds in 17.2.2, "Now that you have come out from between your banks to gaze upon the great sea and realized how miserably small you are, it will be possible to talk with you about the Great Ordering Principle."

For it is upon realizing, and thus accepting our innate capacities that we are able to even begin to converse on subjects such as Heaven and Earth, or the Dao. Understanding has been bestowed on Hebo and now he is fit to begin talking about this Great Ordering Principle. Though, even though both have recognized one (Ruo) is more vast and greater than the other (Hebo), Ruo still admits that even He, is just a tiny tree on that of a great mountain. He makes not much of himself because He too, realizes and understands his physical form, the Northern Sea, is too subordinate to Heaven and Earth just as the Yellow River is [17.2.3]. Guo Xiang beautifully makes the passage ever more clear. Just because Hebo has had this realization of His smallness in comparison to Ruo, does this mean The Yellow River is inferior or truly "smaller" than the Northern Sea? Absolutely not. In fact the very distinction between "small" and "great" is an arbitrary one. For both, Ruo (great) and Hebo (small), are the way they are because of their own unique allotted capacities bestowed by Heaven. Though Hebo is not wrong either in his realization of His size in comparison to Ruo. He is not wrong because there is no contention with his smallness in comparison to Ruo. And why should there be any contention? Guo Xiang states that only the deluded who are great, look down at and condemn the things that are smaller than it. And likewise for the deluded who are small -- they constantly envying those who are "greater" than them. So far, there is absolutely no contention or a yearn on Hebos part to be more "greater" or "like" Ruo, just realization, understanding and an acceptance of things that are. The things that "are" is simply the natural distinctions Heaven makes, which it appears Hebo is well aware of this.

Hebo seems to understand this, yet he still faults because he still wishes to have a "playbook" for things that are great and for things that are small by asking Ruo this: "That being so, if I take Heaven and Earth to signify what is great and the tip of a tiny hair to signify what is small, would that do? [17.3]. Ruo responds in 17.4.1-4, "Not at all, for things have no end of different capacities; time never stops for them; fate for them in inconstant; and from beginning to end nothing ever stays the way it used to be."

This is all taken to mean to have a "playbook" for what is "great" and what is "small" is severely insufficient because of how unique each individual's allotted capacity truly is. Time never stops for the "great" or the "small." Fate is inescapable for things that belong to both categories, so how can there be any "playbook" for greatness or smallness? In 17.4.5-8 Ruo says this, "Therefore, one of great intelligence observes things both in terms of the distant and the commonplace, so though he might be small, he has no sense of being too little, or might be great but does not make much of himself, for such a one realizes that things have no end of different capacities and clearly understands present and past" What Ruo is suggesting here, I think, is that when we are presented with something, we need not think of the things we are being presented with as something "common" or "distant" of us. For what is "common" to me, is "distant" to another, and vice-versa. To view things as "common" or "distant" to us is a failure to recognize things as they truly are, which is, things just naturally are. We should leave the distinctions to Heaven's bidding, as suggested in 2.14.11-14 of the Zhuangzi, On Regarding All Things as Equals 齊物論.

I'm reminded of the post I made on Cook Ding and Lord Wenhui from Chapter 3 of the Zhuangzi, The Mastery of Nurturing Life 養生主. Cook Dings allotted capacity was to be a cook, he did not look at this fact as something shameful or something to be discouraged. Instead, Cook Ding blows away Lord Wenhui at his ability to cultivate such a Dao, given the position that Cook Ding is in: someone not of a lot of wealth or of high status. Cook Ding just hones his craft, a craft that he is naturally allotted to do. Cook Ding does not try to perceive the "greatness" of people of royalty from his position of that of just a cook. He just takes what has been allotted to him by the blessing of Heaven, and makes the most of it. In doing so, he astonished Lord Wenhui at his mastery of cultivating the inarticulate Dao. Which is why in 17.6.1, Ruo states: "To perceive the great with the minute won't get all of it; to perceive the minute with the great won't get it clearly." For if the "great" and the "minute" differ, which they most certainly do, what actually distinguishes them cannot be the same. In order to truly to understand what distinguishes the "minute" from the "great," we must enter into the place that has no words or thoughts, according to Guo Xiang [17.6.5].

The "great" does not set out to be any more "greater" than what they are naturally allotted; nor does the "small" set out to be smaller or greater than it actually is. In 17.7.15-18, Ruo states that, "He knows (the sage) that right can't be divided from wrong, that the small and the great can't demarcate the one from the other. I have heard it said, 'The man of the Dao is unheralded; perfect virtue is unsuccessful; and the great one has no self.'"

We must cast these human noted distinctions away from our thoughts, and not divide things ourselves. When we divide things up ourselves, we fail to let Heaven do its job, which is to naturally make distinctions between things, based upon each things allotted capacity.

Earl of the Yellow River, Hebo, then inquires more about how distinctions are brought about between the great and the small, the noble and the base [17.8]. To which Northern Sea Ruo replies in 17.9.1, "From the view point of the Dao, there is nothing either noble or base about things." This is because each thing, whether noble or base, great or small, each thing is self sufficient unto itself. Which is why in the viewpoint of the Sage or of the Dao itself, these distinctions Hebo keeps trying to purpose, simply do not exist.

For if something is great or noble, because the thing itself deems itself great or noble, then none of the myriad of things would fail to be great or noble, and the same is true about the base and the small. If one deems themselves small, then none of the myriad of things would fail to be small. See the problem here now in making distinctions as arbitrary as these? In the viewpoint of the Dao, we should consider Heaven and Earth to be as small as grain of rice, and that the tip of an autumn hair to be as large as the mountain. All these distinctions are relative and nothing is either great or small, when looking at things from the view point of the Dao [17.9.4].

We truly need to regard all things as equal as suggested in Chapter 2 of the Zhuangzi. All things are equal in regards that each things lives according to their natural principle. This is a thing we can observe in the animal kingdom. For the horse does not differ from the ant just because the horse cannot create colonies, or because the ant cannot provide transportation. These two animals are perfectly equal in regards to that they both spontaneously act in response to their own allotted capacities. It is natural for the ant to create colonies out of dirt, and it is natural for the horse to provide transportation. Why would we call an ant inferior because it cannot provide the things a horse can? Or likewise, why would we call the horse inferior because it cannot create such intricate colonies for it's fellow horses? We don't use these arbitrary distinctions when it comes to the animals, so why would we use them in regards to each other [17.10.2].

What we disagree with or deem as "wrong" is just things that disturb our harmony, and are disadvantageous. And likewise, what suits us and what we deem as "right" are things that harmonize us and what is beneficiary to us. Since what suits me and harmonizes my Hun and Po, will be uniquely different to someone else, this is why Guo Xiang states in 17.10.3, that there is no guiding principle, or "playbook," for what is "right" or "wrong."

"If I accept something as "right," this does not allow another to take it as "wrong," which is to know only one's own view and not appreciate the other's. This being the case, if one looks at things in terms of the Dao, nothing ever fails to be suitable. So if one entrusts things to the potter's wheel of Heaven and is comfortable to follow two such paths at once, no matter how different ways are and no matter how different things are, being the same for him all are beneficial." [17.10.3]

To reject what is "wrong" and to be guided by "order" and reject the "disordered" is according to Master Zhuang, is as if we are being guided by Heaven and to deny Earth, or it is like denying our yang, while being strictly guided by our yin. This is surely impossible to do. Yin and Yang live in opposition in one another, they generate each other. This is also true for the "right" and the "wrong," the "great" and the "small" and all the myriad of distinctions we make as humans [17.10.4].

Hebo is still puzzled; he still wishes for a playbook on "what to do," and "what not to do." For this is the same thing as asking "what is right," or "what is wrong" [17.11]. Ruo encourages Hebo to hold not onto fixed goals such as "what to do," and "what not to do, and encourages the great God of the Yellow River to be radically impartial.

"Hold not to a fixed goal, for this greatly obstructs your way to the Dao. What is 'little,' what 'much!' These are just names for amounts available, the one superseded by the other. Hold not to one course of action, for this puts you at odds with the Dao. Be stern as a ruler should be with his state, one whose virtue is exercised impartially." [17.12.2-5].

For Hebo is still failing to recognize that he must be flexible in his approaches to dualities, and must not embark on the path of "what is" or "what is not." He should just simply remain impartial to such arbitrary distinctions. For if we treat all the myriad of folk to be equally as one, none of the myriad of folk fail to be self-sufficient. When everything is regarded as one or equal, things never fail to spontaneously meet their own unique allotted capacities. "What is" gives way to "what is not" and vice-versa. Thus, they are equally dependent on one another, and furthermore, are equals. Things never stand still as we might like to think. In 17.12.16 & 17.12.18, we are told as follows, "Growth and decay, waxing and waning, when one ends the other begins. No action fails to produce change, no time fails to involve transition." So to try and make things stand still by deeming things "are" and "are not" will inevitably, and always fail. Ruo's final suggestion on this particular matter, is to leave "what should I do" and "what should I not do" alone and just leave them to self transform, as this would be to be in step with Heaven [17.12.19].

If Hebo is being told to discard "what should I do" and "what should I not do", he then inquires, "...then what is of value in the Dao?" [17.13]. To which Ruo responds with, "One who comprehends the Dao must have insight into principle; one who has insight into principle must be clear about incipiency; one who is clear about incipiency shall not let himself be harmed by things [17.14.1]. This is to mean that when one has merged arcanely with all things, discarded divisions and distinctions such as "safety" and "danger" nothing harms the one who is in step with the Dao. Though Ruo/Master Zhuang is clear to point out that doing away with such distinctions does not mean he makes light of the dangerous and the safe. All this means is that the sage remains compeletly serene when things come about, whether that be the things that are "safe" or things that are "dangerous" [17.14.2-4]. The sage is therefore, "content with either misfortune or fortune, and is cautious about whether to advance or retreat [17.14.5-6].

The rest of the chapter just gives us more examples and mythological stories of why these arbitrary distinctions we make have no room when it comes to being instep with the inarticulate Dao. Some key takeaways here is that we must know ourselves and our place in this big vast universe — recognize how small we are, yet not be discouraged about such facts. For it was when Hebo realized just how small he was that he was then able to embark on such a journey of the Dao. We should also not exceed what we are naturally allotted to in life. We are all gifted a certain level of intelligence that can cannot be superseded. Sounds a little bleak, but quite the opposite is the case if we take into account the previous chapter, "Mending One's Original Nature or Correcting The Nature 繕性" and my post on it. I also think this chapter tells us to discover who we are, and what we truly are allotted in this life. Not so different from the concept of "know thyself" that is rung in more western schools of mysticism and thought, such as Hermeticism and Sufism. For when we learn to "know ourselves" our limits are thus transformed into endless unlimitedness, which is why I think it's fitting to conclude this post with a quote from chapter 17 one last time:

Neither north nor south exists for him As unobstructed in all directions into the unfathomable. Neither east nor west exist for him As he starts from arcane obscurity To return on the great thoroughfare. [17.29.2].

#philosophy #daoism #chinese philosophy #taoism #Ruo #Hebo #chinese religion #dao #zhuangzi #guo xiang

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