#seeking council from people who didn't understand and told him to get his head out of the clouds

[mirror-to-the-past]

Owari-Hajimari ENG Lyrical Analysis

Heyo, I just finished TWEWY recently and have been pouring over the soundtrack and turning things over in my head. Thought this song particularly was interesting in terms of the game's themes and whatnot- it seems to be from Joshua's perspective, both in the subject matter and the context in where it first played in the game (pretty sure it was the first battle Neku has alongside Joshua when he first forms the pact with him). So, here's me taking a stab at this whole thing, and digging at potential insight in Joshua's character.

("Happy-go-lucky, yo, here I am

I'm not a yuppie or a puppie, yeah, hear me roar

Jinxes mean nothin' to me they're such a joke

Never can stop me 'cause I'm on my way

Minus and plus, got 'em plugged in the wrong way

And now minor keys are easier to hear

Regression and progression, I start to realize something true")

The speaker wants to be seen as a devil-may-care yet powerful individual, not someone who's a shallow, materialistic young person or a naïve person. They don't pay any mind towards the idea of "bad luck" or spirituality, tossing aside several societal ideas of 'fairness/luck' inherently in the universe; they just want to carve out their own path. They're a cynical person, they see more of the tragedy and sadness in the world than the good and positivity that they think most people ought to appreciate. They look at the world around them and see how society constantly oscillates between growing and advancing, then falling back into old behaviors.

("’How many bottles did you throw into the right bin?’

‘Did you wash them nice and clean?’

Geniuses invent machines and wealthy people invest more funds

My momma used to say start with what you can do today, yeah, not tomorrow

So I list it up, and set this up (listen up!)

My secret plan is based on this truth)

With the first two quotes, the song starts its thematic motifs on recycling which equates towards the idea of looping/being locked in a cycle. The quotes also reflect the procedural and orderly nature of what is required to do a thing that's good for the planet and society, in this case recycling. It takes consistent effort and deliberated action to do what is most beneficial for the world around them- a level of effort and precision that can seem tedious to expend. The speaker also illustrates the taxing nature of this “do-gooder” attitude of compliance and diligence with how the dedication of innovation is often reliant upon the wealthy to promote new products- reflecting how the speaker likely thinks that even with individual diligence and determination in as many places of one’s life as possible, we are strung along to the rhythm of the rich in terms of seeing significant results from our practices. The speaker’s mother, implied to be confronted with the speaker’s feelings of impotence in an unbending society, tells them that if they want things to change, they have to focus on the moment and not become overwhelmed with the bigger picture (“tomorrow”). The “list it up/set it up/secret plan based on this truth” is repeated in the song, demonstrating extreme significance for the development of the speaker’s core values- in response to all of these perceived struggles present in the world and the speaker’s society and an interpretation of the advice of their parent, they internalized a mindset/course of action that may be seen as unacceptable to others, hence the “secret” nature of their “plan.” The speaker copes with their struggles in an analytical and strategic way.

(“It's a small world, it's a small universe. Remember? We used to sing along to the song

Listen to what she says, we are the universe, OWARI-WA HAJIMARI, HAJIMARI-WA OWARI”)

The characterization of assumedly the universe’s “song” as feminine reflects a level of reverence, attachment, feelings of fickleness, or reliance, as is often seen in feminine personifications of inanimate concepts. The speaker then says “we are the universe,” which shows that these are also all traits that they may see in humanity itself. ‘Owari-wa hajimari,” and “Hajimari-wa Owari” translates to “The end is the beginning,” and “The beginning is the end,” respectively, echoing the cyclical viewpoint of the speaker when it comes to the idea of the universe’s progression- any movement is movement, for creation or destruction, but stagnation is what is against the will of the universe itself.

(“An original strategy is what I need. Contradicted world? I've had enough indeed.

Whatsoever, what is forever? I hear them say it, again and again

‘Recycle, reuse, and try to reduce.’ But in the first place, I refuse to confuse!

How many companies want to sell us more services and products? Can't we share?”)

The speaker is at odds with the idea of maintaining the status quo and the level of dissonance that comes from the public at large as a result. “I’ve had enough indeed. Whatsoever, what is forever” flowing thought, in that the ideas bleed together [I’ve had enough indeed, whatsoever/Whatsoever, what is forever?], with the “whatsoever” being the emphasized focal point of the two phrases. This “whatsoever,” meaning “at all,” reflecting an entirety or generalized feeling, or meaning “whatever,” expressing apathy in a longstanding, archaic manner, is the key point here, showing both chronic fatigue at the tug-and-pull/paradoxical system the speaker is in, alongside a presented apathy about it. The speaker is tired of what they view as trivialities born from the idea of individual responsibility for one’s own well-being and the well-being of their society [expressed once again through the recycling metaphor], using double wordplay in response to the recycling metaphor: “recycle, reuse, reduce,” responded to with “refuse” = waste. This shows how the speaker wants to exit the system, highlighted by how they put blame on those behind production and consumerism for pushing the narrative of individual responsibility upon the populace, while they remain the ones primarily in control of the thrum of waste vs. reuse. The speaker wants a collective responsibility to be acknowledged, where no single person is an island to each other, and no person ‘higher on the ladder,’ so to speak, gets to decide the rules of how the common person ought to live their life.

(“How about talking about something different, because all I got is fake, play money

Jigsaw puzzle I can't find the last piece, maybe I swallowed it when I was a kid

My daddy used to say, ‘Keep your eyes on reality and kid don't you forget to enjoy it’

So I list it up and I set this up (listen up!)

My secret plan is based on this truth”)

This verse focuses on trivializing consumerism and asking questions about emotional wholeness with motifs of childishness/childhood, respectively. The speaker feels helpless discussing the inner working of society especially on a class-based critique basis, because they feel the concept of economy and materialism is all illusory anyway, feeling more occupied by how they feel a sort of deep-running gap in themselves and their self-concept that is implied to have persisted since childhood. The ‘jigsaw-puzzle’ in this case symbolizes the speaker, the ‘last piece’ symbolizes the dissatisfaction the speaker has towards society and life in general, and they blame something deep within themselves for this feeling of emptiness, hence the loaded responsibility behind the ‘maybe I swallowed it when I was a kid.’ The speaker’s father must have born witness to these feelings and beliefs, seemingly more in favor of materialism and against internal emotional introspection in comparison to his child. ‘Keep your eyes on reality,’ has the father likely telling the speaker that should care more about things like the aforementioned ‘play money,’ and ‘don’t you forget to enjoy it’ has the father telling the speaker to set their feelings of emotional emptiness to the side, and focus more on the pleasures of life to fill that gap. With the final two lines, the speaker shows that they internalized their father’s words in accordance with their aforementioned strategy on how to approach the dissatisfaction of life.

[phantoms-lair]

Ok, but Zuko's crew figuring it out after just a week or so and having had enough time to propperly convince him before finding Aang (because he might have seen reason but he's still stubborn and what else are they gonna do? Open a tea shop?) Zuko: *didn't think he'd get this far* 'THIS IS SO AWKWARD; WHAT DO I DO?!?!' Lt. Jee, who knows kids need other kids their age around them, seeing the Gaang: 'They're friend shaped!'

“Here we are, the Southern Air Temple.” “It looks amazing Aang,” Katara couldn’t help but be breathless at the sight. Even so she couldn’t help the feeling of trepidation. Aang was from a time of peace long past. No matter how much they told him otherwise, he wouldn’t truly understand what the Fire Nation was capable of till he saw t with his own eyes. And this was the place she feared it would happen.

Aang led them up a long and winding path, chattering excitedly about everything he knew about the place. “And that’s the field where we played Air Ball, and that’s where the air bison slept and-” he broke off, sadness filling his voice. “This place used to be so different. It was full of monks and life. Now there’s nothing here. I can’t believe how much things have changed.” “Maybe not.” Sokka was looking around with sharp eyes. “If this place was really abandoned, there should be all sorts of weeds and overgrowth.  But everything’s neatly kept. Someone’s been here, and a lot more recently than a hundred years ago,”

His voice was filled with dark suspicion, but it went right over Aang’s head. The last airbender perked up. “You’re right! Come on let’s find them!”  “Aang wait!” But it was too late. Aang had taken off on his air scooter, following the path as quickly as he could. He came to an abrupt stop, air dissipating, and stared at the two figures wearing blotchy grey clothes standing in front of him. One of them, a woman, dropped the bundle of sticks and weeds she was holding. The other, a man with sideburns whispered “An airbender...” under his breath. “Get Iroh, he’s meditating in the Avatar Chamber.” He then bowed deeply as the woman ran off. “Honored Monk, would you and your companions please join us for some tea. I know our leader would be honored to speak with you.”

Aang nodded, but he seemed a lot more subdued than before. They were led into a large room. Sokka kept one hand on his boomerang, just waiting to see if trouble would start. On the way they saw several more grey-clothed people staring at them in wonder.

“Iroh should be here shortly.” the man explained. “My name is Jee.” “Iroh’s the one in charge?” Katara asked. “Everyone but he himself would tell you so.” Jee had a half smile. “Iroh sees our little group as a collection of equals, but in times of crisis or question, we tend to turn to him or Zuko.”

“Who’s-” But before Sokka could finish asking who Zuko was (and for that matter who this group was) he was interrupted by heavy footsteps running towards the door and throwing it open. “Jee is it true?” An elderly man was panting, clearly not used to running like he was. “An airbender has returned?”

Jee nodded. “This good Monk and his friends just arrived at the temple.”

“Spirits be praised.” The mans face twisted as tears began to flow from his eyes. “That the balance might not be destroyed, it’s more than I dared hope.” Then he seemed to catch himself and dried his eyes. “Where are my manners. My name is Iroh, let me make you some tea.” “Thank you. I’m Aang, these are my friends Katara and Sokka.” Aang introduced. “But may I ask, please, how did people from the Fire Nation get here. I thought this temple could only be reached by flying bison.” “Fire Nation!” Sokka rose from his seat, grabbing his boomerang. Likewise Katara reached for the water Iroh was pouring into the teapot.

“Peace.” Iroh sad calmly. “No one here wishes any of you harm.”  “How can you say that?” Katara spat. “You’re Fire Nation!”

Iroh looked directly to Aang. “Will you hear our story, honored Monk?”

“I will.” Aang turned to his friends. “We can’t attack before we’ve heard them out.”

“Watch me.” But despite his words, Sokka made no move to attack.

Iroh poured more water in the kettle, to replace what Katara had taken. “I am curious myself, how you identified us so quickly.”

“You’re wearing ash-dyed clothes.” Aang explained. “That’s what Fire Nation people wear in mourning.”

“A custom no longer practiced, sadly. We have taken it for our own as we mourn the loss of so much in the world, and seek to save as much as we can. If we can call ourselves anything, we are Restorationists.” Iroh handed each of them and Jee a cup, before pouring one for himself.

“Our story began three years ago, in the Fire Lord’s war council. My nephew, Zuko, was about your age and had talked his way inside to observe and learn. Like all children of the Fire Nation he’d been raised to believe the Nation was perfect and the war just. And it was in this meeting those beliefs were destroyed.”

“A General suggested a plan that would end in the sacrifice of the youngest Fire Nation recruits in a gambit that would gain very little, for you see the Firelord cares as little for his own people as those of other nations. The War Room was usually divided into two factions. Those like the General who reveled in slaughter, and those like myself who knew there was nothing we could say to stop it. Except that day there was another.” “Zuko spoke out, loudly and passionately, about how wrong the plan was. He was told he’d have to fight an honor duel for his disrespect. Zuko was pleased to fight someone as dishonorable as the General. Only on the day of the duel, his opponent wasn’t the general, but his own father.”

Sokka drew in a hissing breath. “The Firelord made him fight his own father?”

Iroh took a long sip of tea. “He forced Zuko, yes. But it was not involuntary on both sides. My brother longed to be rid of his kind-hearted son, and saw the duel as an opportunity. But my nephew thwarted him.” Iroh smiled to himself. “He surrendered, refusing to harm his own father. As a result my brother couldn’t land a killing blow without being disgraced himself. Instead he scarred Zuko and had him banished in disgrace for his ‘cowardice’.” 

For the first time they heard anger in Iroh’s voice. “No child should have to learn so young that their Nation is disgraceful, that their family has no honor. It was a terrible lesson, and yet one he did learn. The Firelord gave him an impossible task in order to rescind his banishment, but it’s one Zuko has no interest in pursuing. Instead he set out to learn how much more of what he knew was a lie. I’m sure you know what he found.” 

“Zuko wanted to make a pilgrimage to the places most harmed by the Fire Nation, starting with the Air Temples, the Western Air Temple in particular. We told him only an Air Bender could reach it. We underestimated him. Within a day he had managed to get inside. What he reported back to us was...it was nothing less than a tragedy. The corpses of Fire nation Soldiers and Air Nomads alike were strewn over the temple, which, as you can imagine, had fallen into serious disrepair.”

“Over the next few weeks, we had removed the bodies of the soldiers and gave them tradition field rites as per the Fire Nation. But we agreed we did not want to disrespect the Air Nomads further by denying them the proper rites. We searched the temple in hopes of finding the instructions, which we did.” “Please Iroh,” Aang looked like he was a moment away from sobbing. “Can you tell me...I just want to be sure.” Iroh nodded. “We burned them on an outdoor pyre, eight people in attendance at the cardinal directions. Four people facing the pyre, praying for the spirit of the fallen monk, four facing away, praying to the spirits to guide them. When the fire burned out, we spread the ashes to the four winds.”

Aang let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” His voice shook and Katara pulled him into a hug. Iroh nodded. “But the search for the proper rites drove home to my nephew how much had been lost. We spent much of the first year at the temple, finding what we could on Air Nomad Culture, as well as undoing what damage had been done. We were few to start with, barely thirty people. But as we traveled, more came to us. Most were former soldiers of the Fire Nation who could not stomach what they were asked to do. Some were Earth Kingdom scholars, seeking to uncover what had been lost to the war. We have restored all but the Norther Air Temple, as well as several places in the Earth Kingdom.”

“What about the South Pole.” Sokka crossed his arms. “You said you were going to places the Fire Nation hit hardest.” “The South Pole is still occupied, and I doubt the current residents would appreciate us showing up. We have found some various parchment scrolls, which we have copied into our caches, but not much.”

“Hold up, what caches?” Katara demanded.

“We didn’t want to make it easy for The Firelord’s servants to destroy the histories of the fallen peoples again. All the information we’ve found has been copied and placed in caches. We have one places in each of the locations we’ve restored, as well as several other hidden places throughout the Earth Kingdom. The memories of these people will not be forgotten again.”

“You’re more than welcome to look through the cache here for any knowledge lost to you tribe.” Jee said kindly. “And we would greatly appreciate anything Monk Aang could add. We’ve done our best, but that’s not the same as someone who’s lived in the culture.”

Iroh bowed his head. “For that matter, we recognize that this place and the other Air Temples belong to your people. If your people do not want us in their ancestral home, we will of course leave.”

Aang felt a lump in his throat as he realized that Iroh, and probably the rest of the Restorationists, had made a mistake. They thought he was one of a group of Air Nomads who had escaped. Not that he was the last. And...and if they had been to all the temples, except maybe the Northern One, he very well could be.

“Would you mind if I took a look at the cache.” To be honest he was less interested in it’s contents and more...he just needed some time to sort all this out.

Iroh nodded his head. “Of course. The cache for the Southern Air Temple is in the Atrium of the Southern Wind. I trust you know where that is?”

Aang nodded and rose. “Thank you for the tea.”” He gave a small bow an left, Katara by he side. Sokka hung back a bit and heard a snatch of conversation as he shut the door.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jee asked.

Sokka froze, listening carefully.

“It depends on what you think I’m thinking.” Iroh said amicably.

“I’m thinking your bastard of a brother never let Zuko interact with other children and he never had the chance to once he took the responsibility to undue sins from before he was born. You’re hoping the Monk and his companions will be friends to him.”

“You know me too well.”

Sokka slid away, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved.

“What are you thinking Aang?” Katara asked as Sokka caught up. “Should we make a break for it.”

“No, if they wanted to hurt us, they would have tried already.” Aang said heavily. He sighed. “I really am the last, aren’t I?”

Katara gripped his hand and Sokka slung an arm around his shoulder. “You’re not alone thought. You know that right?” Katara asked him.

He gave her a sad smile. “Thanks guys.”

The Atrium of the Southern Wind was a tall chamber that was open beneath the ceiling so the wind rushed through. Though open to the air, it let little light in, so when the opened the door the chamber was flooded with light.

There was a single person inside, shielding his eyes as the new light greatly outshone the small candle he had been using. “I told you, Miki. I’ll take a break as soon as I finish transcribing this. Codebreaking is easier than reading Monk Chaiyun’s handwriting.” He was significantly younger than the other Restorationists they had seen. He also seemed to be wearing a strange white fur hat.

Katara and Sokka instinctively stood in front of Aang, who chuckled. “It really was bad.”

The Restorationist’s head shot up, causing his hat to fall off with a startled squeak. “You’re not-How did you get up here?” Then he shook his head. “That’s egotistical, we got up after all, sorry.” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Katara and Sokka felt their stomachs twist. Iroh had said his nephew had been scarred, and they though they had understood what that meant. They had seeen plenty of scars on the men of the village, life at the mercy of the ocean wasn’t kind. Almost all members of the tribe has some scars, from light gashes on fingertips struck with fish hooks, to the broad slash across Chinuk’s chest from when he’s been hit with shrapnel from Fire nation cannons on their last raid.

Nothing they imagined prepared them for the burn covering most of the left side of Zuko’s face. It was like someone with a flaming hand grabbed it and held on. Knowing it was his own father who’d done this, who wanted to do this, sickened them.

Aang’s attention, though, was on his ‘hat’. “Is that a lemur?” he asked, delight entering his voice for the first time.

Zuko smiled. “Yeah. I gave him some food and he’s stuck with me ever since. Do you want to give him some food?”

“Do I? Aang excitedly asked.

Zuko reached into a satchel and pulled out some berries and handed them to Aang. Aang offered them to the lemur who sniffed, then grabbed one, scootign away to eat it.

“I don’t suppose you have some meat in there?” Sokka stared at the satchel longingly. 

“No, but I feel you though. We don’t bring meat to the Temples since the Air Nomads were vegetarians and we don’t want to disrespect them. But I miss it too. I do have some Rabbiyak cheese though.” He reached into the bag and handed a soft yellow wedge to Sokka.

“Good enough!” Sokka grabbed it and shoved it in his mouth, practically melting in joy. 

Katara laughed, both at her brother and her friend, who now had the lemur climbing over him. “You made a new friend, Aang?” Zuko perked up “Aang? You were named after Avatar Aang?”

“Avatar Aang?” Katara asked, thanking the Spirits that the Lemur was on Aang’s face, so Zuko didn’t see his reaction. 

“The last Avatar we have any information on,” Zuko explained. “He grew up in this very Temple. The last piece of information we have on him was that he was going to the Eastern Air Temple. We don’t know if he made it or not though.”

He didn’t. But neither of the siblings wanted to tell anyone from the Fire Nation that, not matter how much goodwill that cheese had bought from Sokka.

Sokka swallowed the last of the cheese. “Iroh said the cache in here might have some lost knowledge from our Tribe?”

“Oh he did?” Zuko looked surprised. “You’re from the Southern Water tribe? I mean, you’d have to be, we don’t have anything from the Northern.” He opened a stone chest next to him. It looked normal from the outside, but opening revealed a strange shape to the interior, as if there were teeth withing the lid. Zuko pulled out multiple scrolls, which he handed to the siblings.

Sokka opened one and was surprised to find a message within stating that this scroll was a reproduction, and described what the original scroll had looked like, from the type of parchment and ink used, to the carvings on the handles. The scroll itself contained information on building a rigging system for a ship.

“Are there Fire Nation Scrolls in here?” Aang asked, the lemur curled up on his head as it had been on Zuko’s.

“Yep.” Zuko scowled, which looked even worse with his scar. “Seems each Firelord does their best to wipe out a culture. Sozin launched the strike on the Air Nomads. Azulon pretty much destroyed all Fire Nation culture that couldn’t be used to prop up the war. So like, the Fire Festival is still on, because ‘Rah Rah Fire Good’, but the Festival of Rebirth, which centered around sowing the fields with ashes to benefit crops was struck from records and history books because it was ‘too Earth Nation’. A vast majority of our culture just...gone.” There was no hiding the bitterness is Zuko’s voice. “And despite the Earth Kingdoms being the single greatest force of Resistance, Ozai’s been obsessed with the Water Tribes, so I guess that will leave Azula with Earth.”

“If they don’t get stopped.” Sokka pointed out.

“I hope so.” Zuko sighed. “If the rest of the world would band together, they could have been stopped a hundred years ago, but too many keep saying ‘not my problem’ till Ozai’s armies are at their doorstep. Everyone keeps saying stuff like ‘If only the Avatar would return, but he’s just one man? Or woman. Like, sure he can bend all the elements, but you just need four people for that. Maybe try to work on stuff yourself rather than rely on one person???” 

“You don’t think the Avatar can save the world?” Sokka asked, eyebrow raised. Sure he like how easily Zuko admitted to the Fire Nation needing to be stopped, but still...

Zuko shrugged. “It’s less I don’t think he can and more...I guess I don’t feel he should have to, I mean, the Fire Nation is about the size and a half of Ba Sing Se. It wouldn’t have stood a chance if all the Earth Kingdoms gave a United front against it in the beginning, much less both Water Tribes assisting.  But only a few Kingdoms and the Southern Tribe did more than protect their own borders. It just doesn’t seem fair to put it all on one person.”

Thank you Aang thought. He wasn’t ready to admit who he was to the Restorationists. In fact, he would have been happy if no one had known. But Zuko saying it didn’t all have to be on his shoulders...no one but Gyatsu had told him that.

“This would mean so much to the Tribe.” Katara said softly, looking at a scroll describing building elaborate structures from ice.

“Would if be better to get the original or copies?” Zuko asked.

Katara gave him a look that was just shy of a glare. “What do you think?” “Depends on how quickly you need the information. We always put originals in the closest cache to where we find them. Like this Waterbending scroll-” Zuko opened one. “-we recovered from pirates in the Earth Kingdom. You can tell from this marking that the original is in our cache in the Fuxai ruins.” He pointed to a small green emblem at the top of the note explaining it was a reproduction. “That’s quite a distance from here. So if the goal is to get the information to your tribe as quickly as possible, it would be easier for me to get a few hands and copy all we have. We’d probably be finished by this evening, which means you could leave to return with it as soon as tomorrow morning. However if it’s important is the cultural history, it makes more sense to get the originals, even though traveling to all the caches would be months worth of work.”

“Oh,” That was...well thought out. It occurred to Katara this may not have been the first time the true owners  of what the Restorationists recovered had come claiming what was theirs.

“Do you think you could do both?” Sokka asked seriously. “Make the copies now and, since we’re going on a journey with Aang, we can swap out the new copies for originals if we pass by.”

“Certainly.” Zuko smiled. “And it gives me a convenient excuse to take a break form trying to decipher Monk Chaiyun’s script for a little while.”

“One question though. If you thought you could be done by tonight and it was important, why would we wait till tomorrow to leave?” Aang wondered.

“And the others say I’m reckless.” Zuko rolled his eyes. “You guys just scaled the mountain. You know how dangerous it is to navigate in broad daylight. In the dark? Even I’d call it a death trap.”

“Actually we don’t. We flew in on my flying bison.” Aang explained.

Zuko froze, then looked at Aang as though he was seeing him for the first time. “A...a real...you really are a...” His mouth opened and closed several times. “Can I see it?” he finally said, then buried his face in his hands as thought that wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to say out loud.

“Sure!” Aang rose to his feet, wind swirling around him. Zuko gaped openly, but followed the monk outside to where they’d entered the temple from.

Zuko hadn’t been the only one interested in Appa. A large group of Restorationists were staring, albeit from a good distance away.

“This is Appa. He’s been my best friend since we were little.” Aang introduced.

Zuko stared in wide eyed wonder. “Can I touch him?”

“Sure, Appa’s friendly. Aren’t you?’ Aang asked, as if expecting the bison to answer.

Zuko tentatively reached out  and touched Appa. He stroked it for a few minutes before impulsively hugging Appa, burying himself in the white fur.

“He’s so fluffy,” Zuko proclaimed in a muffled voice.

Katara laughed and even Sokka smiled. “Still not sure on the rest of them, but this Fire Nation guy’s alright.”

Katara smiled back at him, and at Aang, who was eagerly showing Zuko the best way to pet Appa. Yeah. This one was okay.

[sophi-s]

Day 29 #Grief

Whoops. I actually ended up writing a short piece for this one as well and uh... I think I accidentally created a new ship... :O

To Mourn Together

By: sophi-s (me)

Franchise: Darksiders video games

Words: 1 961

Warnings: None

Characters: Uriel, Nathaniel, Abaddon (mentioned)

_________________________________________

With utmost certainty, one could say it was one of the brightest nights in the White City. Of course, with the buildings in the color of gilded snow, every night seemed bright. But that one particular night the full moon spilled its cold, silver light all over the angelic city, bathing it in a pale glow that reflected in the smooth surfaces and illuminated the warm darkness as the gentle gusts of wind blew through the quiet and empty plaza.

Aside from the sentries patrolling the streets, all of the Heaven's denizens were long asleep in their homes. All of them.

Except for one.

A figure of a lonely angel threads lightly through the city, grand white wings folded neatly at his sides, just like his hands behind his back. His golden battle armor is discarded in favor of a simple set of clothes. There's nothing threatening him after all. Lost in thought, he doesn't acknowledge guards greeting him as he passes by. He walks seemingly without purpose, reconsidering the not so recent events.

Your friend serves the Shadow.

The Archon? Corrupted?!

Impossible!

Leave me, Horseman. I must think of what to do now…

He shook his head with an exasperated sigh. One hundred years. It's been over one hundred years since all of this happened. And yet, all this felt far too fresh in his head. As though it happened merely yesterday. Sweeping his gaze over his surroundings, he realised he'd left for the outskirts of the White City, where the grand Tree of Life stands tall and magnificent as it has since the day Heaven was created. But to his surprise, he wasn't alone here after all. At the foot of the Tree, his keen white eyes spotted another angel. A woman. The same silver hair, any other angel possesses, fluttering on the wind, wings of golden, radiant feathers slumped sadly against her back as she stood there, gazing out at the locked gate to the Well of Souls. Strange. He assumed he would be alone.

Since he wasn't trying to sneak up on her, she heard him approach quite early and whipped around to face him, her own robes billowing, but the moment she laid her golden eyes on him she simply sighed.

"Oh. It's just you, Nathaniel.."

"So it is."

Nathaniel murmured, silently wondering who she'd been actually expecting, and stood for a few long moments, looking at her. A black ribbon with a darkened feather tied around her right wrist caught his attention and something twisted painfully in his chest. Even blackened and bathed in Hellish corruption, the ribbon was unmistakable and the feather spoke for itself..

"What are you doing here, Uriel?"

He found himself asking nonetheless. It's been a long while since they last talked. After all, Nathaniel had been sent away from the Hellguard shortly after Uriel joined their ranks. And it was so long ago.. Humming quietly, Uriel turned away to look up at the Tree's tangled canopy of small fluttering leaves.

"A year…"

She sighed when Nathaniel came closer and stood beside her, watching her stare into the black sky where the moon gazed down on them like a gigantic, round eye.

"It's been a year since Abaddon died.. exactly a year, day to day."

Nathaniel nodded in agreement, looking at Uriel's fingers absent mindedly stroking the end of the ribbon tied around her forearm. Even though he'd been away from the White City for quite some time, rumours about the commander of the Hellguard reached Nathaniel even in Lostlight. If they were true, then no wonder Uriel takes Abaddon's demise so personally. He could only imagine what was going on in her head throughout this year. He wasn't going to stop her from spitting out what she'd been choking up inside of her.

"And yet.. I still sometimes wonder. If I should've done something. Stopped War… I don't know."

"He'd been the Destroyer, Uriel. As much as I disagree with it, you couldn't do anything else for him."

Furrowing her eyebrows, Uriel huffed and lowered her head.

"I know. But… I still have this in my head. The sight of him reaching out to me for help. What if…"

She hesitated, something that was very unlike her. Nathaniel raised his eyebrows curiously, waiting for her to speak up. He had his suspicions from the moment Death brought the news of Abaddon's fate and he couldn't help but wonder if Uriel thought the same way.

"I refuse to believe he'd planned it from the beginning. What if all of it wasn't his choice? He can't have been in his right mind! What if before War killed him, in his last moments Abaddon, the real Abaddon, came back? What if… there was still something worth saving in him?"

Nathaniel's suspicions turned out to be true. She thought just like he had. Now it was his turn to look up at the sky. Indeed, there was something so enchanting about this particular night..

"I wondered myself, Uriel. Many times in fact…"

The younger angel crossed her arms and glared down at her boots as though they'd done something wrong. The branches of the Tree creaked mournfully as the wind tugged on them and ruffled feathers of both angels standing below. Its gusts were getting stronger and its voice whistling against nearby structures brought to mind a sorrowful cry of a lost soul.

"Abaddon taught me everything I know. I had known him my whole life. It feels so… empty without him."

I can't believe he's gone. That's what she truly meant to say and Nathaniel knew it but said nothing of it. He knew that feeling quite well. Better than most. Abaddon had been his friend after all…

"Sometimes I feel like he's still here. Watching over me like he always has.."

Uriel chuckled humorlessly, as though she meant to laugh off the ridiculousness of her claim but Nathaniel didn't feel like laughing. He laid his hand on Uriel's shoulder, nearly making her jump in the process.

"Who says he isn't?"

He could clearly see her jaw visibly clench tightly at his assumption. Not that he could blame her. Nathaniel knew all too well what Uriel was going through. He didn't want anyone to feel like he does and he wished to offer her comfort, compassion. But it's not easy to do so while he grieves as well.

"Do you think I could've changed it?"

Uriel suddenly asked, making Nathaniel's eyebrow wander up.

"During the initial Endwar.. Do you think if I was a little faster back then…"

"Uriel."

The deep tone of his voice had just the result he was counting on as she cut off to finally look him in the eye. Nathaniel placed his other hand on her other shoulder and said sternly

"Even if so, it doesn't change anything. We can't turn back time. Thinking this way won't make you feel better."

"And how could you possibly know?"

It was just the matter of time before Uriel snapped and brushed Nathaniel's hands from her shoulders. There was fire in her eyes, burning like the hottest blaze of Hell.

"You don't know how I feel."

Frowning gently, Nathaniel heaved out a long suffering sigh.

"Quite the opposite in fact.. I know exactly how you feel…"

This seemed to have given Uriel a pause.

"I've known Abaddon even longer than you have. He was my close friend, one of the very few I had. When the news of his fall reached me I kept wondering if it would've been different if I was there. This one, wretched thought stayed with me for a whole century, like a festering wound that refuses to heal. If you seek understanding, I assure you, you will find it in me."

Would it have been different if I knew of the darkness that threatened Lucien? Sometimes he still has those doubts... In shock, Uriel opened her mouth a couple of times only to shut it again as she couldn't find suitable words. Until..

"I'm… sorry. I had no idea…"

With an unhappy smile, Nathaniel shook his head. He wasn't going to take offense. Grief does strange things to people. Uriel snapping at him wasn't the worst thing that could've happened.

"Past cannot be changed. Blaming yourself will not bring you peace of mind. We must march into the future."

Snickering quietly, Uriel looked away.

"You speak words of wisdom.. But I cannot decide if they help me either."

Humming thoughtfully, Nathaniel measured Uriel. Her heart was bleeding profusely, even though she kept it hidden away. He knew how to recognise inner turmoil. From his own experience.. Fortunately, he knew just the way. And honestly, after all this.. Abaddon's treason, Lucien's collapse into the hateful darkness.. he probably needed it as much as she did. Carefully, but insistently, Nathaniel reached out to Uriel and gently pulled her into his arms.

"Nathaniel? What.. are you doing?"

Uriel didn't stop him, probably because of confusion and surprise. Not getting pushed away was a small victory in itself. He was more than happy to explain it to her. Going back to memories of that peculiar human who accompanied Death everywhere always warmed his heart.

"A good friend of mine had told me once that embraces can bring comfort. Especially in sorrow. Does it help you ?"

For a long moment Uriel didn't answer. She was thinking. Up this close Nathaniel could feel her heart rapidly hammering against her ribcage. But then she finally returned the embrace and placed her head on his chest with a heavy sigh.

"It does. Even if a little.."

A tiny note of wonderment in her voice was barely perceptible but definitely there. For a few minutes both angels stood like that in silence before Uriel spoke again.

"Do you think he's at peace? Abaddon, I mean…"

Staring at the shorter angel in his arms, Nathaniel harrumphed. The Charred Council was surely bent on condemning Abaddon, sentencing him to damnation even after his death. He only hoped that the Horsemen made short work of them before they were able to fulfill their dire promises and cast the already tormented soul into Oblivion. Nothing was sure. The only way to confirm either was to travel to the Kingdom of the Dead. Nathaniel couldn't say for certain that Abaddon has his rest or if his spirit in this very moment wastes away in nothingness. The mere thought made his stomach churn. But he didn't speak his fears out loud. He didn't dare.

"I do sincerely hope so…"

An answer as good as any, he supposed. It wasn't a "yes" but neither it was a "no". Perhaps it would be just enough..

"Thank you, Nathaniel.. I'm glad you came here…"

Somehow, an odd, heavy presence lingering about was abruptly lifted from the air when Uriel whispered into the edge of his coat but stayed motionless where she was, unwilling  and not ready to pull away just yet. Mourning is always easier with a companion. For just a second Nathaniel could've sworn he saw something… someone… move out of the corner of his eye but just as suddenly as they appeared, they were gone. It was most likely nothing. Just a fleeting trick of his imagination. Nathaniel rested his chin on top of Uriel's head and closed his eyes, listening to the wind blowing gently overhead and to her heart beating right next to his own. Two different rhythms that seemed the same. He didn't wish to leave just yet either. Luckily, he didn't have to. There was no need for hurry. It was still the middle of the night. No one will see them here, vulnerable and weak, slowly mending their broken hearts from the pieces.

They still had time…

_________________________________________

Bear with me, I just wanted those sad dorks to lift each other's spirits up. It's not my fault that I'm so trash 😂

At least I drew Nathaniel properly, as I promised :P

Darksiders Inktober drawing prompts by @imagine-darksiders

[odissey061]

Motonari's route

Chapter(s) posted:

1. This freak won't have me

2. Kick him in the teeth

Please, teach me a better way to create link because I can't do it by myself

Chapter 3: This trick never worked at human's memory

Tag: @towa-no-yume @r-f-a-journalists

When I open my eyes the first thing I feel is an acute headache: the hands run through the hair until I discover a bump. I press it to see if I feel the pain and then I whimper like a baby: it hurts a lot. Why I'm so stupid? I take a look around me and I notice I'm in a cold and empty cell. The room is surrounded by three wooden walls and before me there's an iron grille. Here and there on the floor against the wall there are spooky chains that make me chill and smile nervously. At this moment I heard the rolling waves and I understand I'm on a ship.

Where I am? How many time has passed since my kidnap? I must return to the Oda right now! A lot of hours passed since I left Azuchi castle: I told to Hideyoshi I'd come back after lunch, so probably they have already noticed my absence.

I try open the door but, obviously, is locked and I look around to find something to force the look, but the room is empty, except the chain on the wall. Then I took a clip from my hair and, holding it tight in the hand, I pray:"At human memory this trick never worked, but, please, if there's even the littlest chance, make it happens". Great, now I pray to objects like they were gods!

I plug the clasp in the door lock but, as I expected, it doesn't work. Pushed by despair, I retry again and again, but after a large number of failed attempts and swears, finally I give up and I lean my back on the wall. A man appears in front of me: he's very tall and his body is made by tons of muscles, his eyes shining with malice. With a look I understand this man is a brute and he doesn't hesitate to use violence and if I had to fight against him, I'd probably die. "Who are you and why I'm here?" I demand, but he laughs dryly:"I'm the one who makes the questions here, little girl" and he opens the door. As he spoke, I recognize him as the man who kidnapped me. He enters in the cell and leaves open the door. I try to gain more time:"I understand why you kidnapped me: I'm very close to the Oda commanders and your boss wants information about them", Well, at least you are not stupid, that makes easier my work. So little girl, talk about your friends" he comments. "The problem is exactly about this: you see, I'm only their maid and I don't know anything about their future moves, so keep me here is useless" I lie and I walk towards the door. But the man grabs my hair, making me moan for the pain and yells at me:"You think I'm so stupid to believe you? I'm not a fool! In Azuchi people say Nobunaga brought you to battle on his horse  His voice becomes lower, still being threatening:"If you don't tell me spontaneously all you know about them, I'll make you confess with the bad manners". And when he shows a bag full of torture instruments and I'm terrified. I don't know very much about torture, but I can imagine how much they'd hurt my body. I want to scream for help, but I know nobody will save me. My face gets paler. I know already how this will finish: this man will torture me until I speak, but I don't know anything, so he'll kill me for nothing. I'll die for anything!!

"I'm not his lover: I'm his maid and I have been staying in Azuchi for a few days. I don't know anything about them and if I knew something, I surely won't talk to you" I repeat using a quiet voice to not make him angrier. "Bad answer" he smiles sadistically, almost happy about my resistance and slaps me so violently to turn my head. "Try again, little girl, but the next time I won't so merciful".

"And if I don't confess what are you going to?" I bravely provoke him. The Oda forces helped me a lot and I won't betray them for my own safety. "I'll break all of your bones and if you won't talk, then I'll cut the tendons of your hands and your feet. If you still won't confess I'll remove your eyes, then I'll tear your ears and finally I'll cut your tongue" his threats scare me a lot, but I won't give up my loyalty. He takes from the bag a strange object and he places it near to my nails.

No no no no. Please, somebody help me!

I close the eyes too scared to watch, but at that moment I hear a new voice:"Yoshitoko, what are you doing here? I'm sure the captain hasn't told you to torture this girl since he is out to collect information with a few men. So I wonder: whose order are you following?". I open my eyes and I see a young man who's throwing diggers with the glare at the man in front of me. The newcomer is younger than this man, but somehow the eldest has to obey him. "The captain is still a child, quartermaster: if all of us wait for his command, we'd have alredy died. He doesn't know what to do and he's not able to keep the promise he made" he growls, "He's the captain, not you: he knows what's the best for us better than you. You are only able to hurt people and torture them, for this reason you won't be a captain. Now leave, Yoshitoko" The man speaks with a rough voice and I can feel the subtle threat he silently implies. I except a Yoshitoko's reaction, but he obeys whispering something.

Left alone, the young man is more relaxed walks towards me and I step back, so he reassures me:"I don't want to hurt you. I want to check your wound". I let him check my arm. I groan for the pain when he tries to move it. He looks more friendly than his colleague, so I try to ask:"Can you tell me who are you and how many days passed since my kidnap? Will you torture me again to seek information I don't have?". He sighs: "The arm is broken, now I call a doctor so he can help you better. Now you are on a pirate ship and you were kidnapped by Yoshitoko yesterday, following captain's order. Now the captain is away, but in a short time he'll be back and will decide what to do about you". "Earlier I said the truth: I don't know anything about Nobunaga's future plans. Keep me here he's useless" I whisper, "Even if you don't know anything you'll probably stay here as a political hostage to be used against your friends" the man explains my situation. The sadness overwhelms me to the thought I'll be used against my friends: I can't do this to them. "But as I told you is the captain to decide, so he could even release you" he tries to reassure me, but I have no illusions: if I were in his position I'll do the same. I even realize probably I won't be able to go back to my time. No way this will happen! The man says they wait for their captain, so it means the ship is still in the port: that makes my escape more easily. The man is inside the cell and the grill is open: all I have to do is run and don't be caught. But the pirate in front of me is still vigil even if he's more relaxed, surely is ready to catch me and even I'd beat him he'll give the alarm. No, escape at this moment is too risky but if I don't do it right now later would be impossible.

The only thing I can do is talk with the captain: I'm even ready to beg for my release, it's necessary. "The captain will be here in a few hours, so be more patient" he ends the conversation. "What kind of man is your captain?" I wonder, "The captain? Is an edgy man. He treats with respect his subordinates, but he doesn't trust anyone except me on this ship. Is the type of person who can be your friend but he stabs you in the back some minutes after" he responds. So he's a bastard and the possibilities he'd let me go are very low.

* * *

It's almost evening and Hideyoshi is worried: y/n told him this morning she'd have gone in the city until lunchtime, but she didn't come back. He asked around but nobody was able to tell him where y/n was. He alerted Nobunaga who decided to hold a war council to find her. Hideyoshi expresses all of his worry and Mitsunari takes word with a stern look on his face:"I'm quite worried as well, Lord Hideyoshi. We should look after her". 

"Maybe she escaped after she went to war, after all, was her first time on a battlefield. I won't be surprised" Mitsuhide suggests with his cunning tone, but a more careful eye can see a glimpse of worry. In the past days, he went to some places with a very horrible reputation and in a red light district and he noticed a lot of Portuguese men who acted too much secretive for being simply merchant. They were really cautious: they gazed around before speaking with someone and once Mitsuhide risked revealing his true identity. Just today he succeeded to talk with a man after days of failures, but what he discovered was suspicious arms traffic. He didn't discover anything about y/n's missing. And the possibilities she's been kidnapped are not low. "My lucky charm is not a coward, Mitsuhide: she proved it during the war"       

Nobunaga scolds him, "Then I suppose we should look after her" snorts Ieyasu. "As if you hadn't done it before, before" teases Mitsuhide: Ieyasu's contrarian reactions are always a delight for him.

"Lord Ieyasu is always so kind" Mitsunari praises him. Ieyasu scolds him:"I told you I wasn't searchi-", "Enough! Each of you will send your own scouts in the city to collect information" Nobunaga stops the discussion. Once the council ends, all the warlord obey to Nobunaga orders, sending men in the city and its surroundings with the order to search for y/n and arrest everyone look suspicious. But as time passes, nobody finds y/n.