Valdis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
redlightgreenlight) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2022-11-01 02:32 pm
redlightgreenlight) wrote in come_sailaway2022-11-01 02:32 pm
I Was Looking for a Breath of Life
Who: Valdis and Open!
What: New Arrival tries to cope with being dropped into a new place after a massive bloodbath
When: November
Where: All over
Warnings: Headaches, grumpiness, will warn if it gets worse than that.
1) Arrival: Her head screamed at her, sharp pain cutting into her vision with every breath. Eyes closed tightly, Valdis does her best to breathe. The heavy death in the air, filled with lingering desperation and trauma tightened her chest. Of all the times to fall into a new world, it would be just after a massacre. With her head in her hands, her black hair hiding her face, she leaned against the railing of the walkway, trying to drown out the pain. This was definitely where it all happened. The pain was worse here.
"Haven't felt this bad since the last war," she muttered. "How many people died?"
2) Revelations: Valdis worked her way through the ship, avoiding her cabin as much as possible, seeking to memorize the layout of the ship and maximize her ability to move quickly should it be necessary. The Void is silent, a fact she should be grateful for, and in some ways, very much is. But now the silence is simply silence, and the feeling that the dead are around every corner sits in her gut. She can’t see them, except maybe flitting out of the corner of her eyes from time to time, but she can sense that they aren’t alone. Footsteps sounded from behind her, she’d been so focused on the dead that she hadn’t paid attention to the living. She turns around, hand on the hilt of the rather impressive sword hanging on her hip.
"Hello?"
3)Buffet: Without the ability to draw on the dead, Valdis must find something to soothe the very human feeling of hunger. She’d known the feeling from home, before her memories had begun to return, but now she found it highly annoying.
“What’s the best thing here?”
Second Week of November and Onwards
4) Library: Valdis has finally taken Erin's advice and found the black binder in the library. She is not thrilled with what she's reading and the tension is visible in her usually elegant jawline and the glowing red in her eyes. Fear isn't found anywhere in her demeanor or soul, but rather a thoughtful, yet tense, aura radiates from where she sits. She's so focused that almost anyone not touched by death could approach without her noticing. If they are touched by death, she may react poorly, so tread carefully.
5) Hurikane: She can't get drunk, but she sure is trying her best with pure vodka and whatever else she can find that's strong. She's not even really trying to taste it, just downing it as fast as the invisible bartender can deliver, and exhausting her healing abilities as she goes. It's still not enough to even give her a buzz though. Disappointing.
6)Wildcard round: Your turn!
What: New Arrival tries to cope with being dropped into a new place after a massive bloodbath
When: November
Where: All over
Warnings: Headaches, grumpiness, will warn if it gets worse than that.
1) Arrival: Her head screamed at her, sharp pain cutting into her vision with every breath. Eyes closed tightly, Valdis does her best to breathe. The heavy death in the air, filled with lingering desperation and trauma tightened her chest. Of all the times to fall into a new world, it would be just after a massacre. With her head in her hands, her black hair hiding her face, she leaned against the railing of the walkway, trying to drown out the pain. This was definitely where it all happened. The pain was worse here.
"Haven't felt this bad since the last war," she muttered. "How many people died?"
2) Revelations: Valdis worked her way through the ship, avoiding her cabin as much as possible, seeking to memorize the layout of the ship and maximize her ability to move quickly should it be necessary. The Void is silent, a fact she should be grateful for, and in some ways, very much is. But now the silence is simply silence, and the feeling that the dead are around every corner sits in her gut. She can’t see them, except maybe flitting out of the corner of her eyes from time to time, but she can sense that they aren’t alone. Footsteps sounded from behind her, she’d been so focused on the dead that she hadn’t paid attention to the living. She turns around, hand on the hilt of the rather impressive sword hanging on her hip.
"Hello?"
3)Buffet: Without the ability to draw on the dead, Valdis must find something to soothe the very human feeling of hunger. She’d known the feeling from home, before her memories had begun to return, but now she found it highly annoying.
“What’s the best thing here?”
Second Week of November and Onwards
4) Library: Valdis has finally taken Erin's advice and found the black binder in the library. She is not thrilled with what she's reading and the tension is visible in her usually elegant jawline and the glowing red in her eyes. Fear isn't found anywhere in her demeanor or soul, but rather a thoughtful, yet tense, aura radiates from where she sits. She's so focused that almost anyone not touched by death could approach without her noticing. If they are touched by death, she may react poorly, so tread carefully.
5) Hurikane: She can't get drunk, but she sure is trying her best with pure vodka and whatever else she can find that's strong. She's not even really trying to taste it, just downing it as fast as the invisible bartender can deliver, and exhausting her healing abilities as she goes. It's still not enough to even give her a buzz though. Disappointing.
6)Wildcard round: Your turn!
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Oh, he's singing and dancing now. How embarrassing.
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"I can't compete with that right away. We might have to pick a word game that requires me to sit still," he just admits blandly. HONESTLY, at least.
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She's now moving along the buffet, trying to find said curry, or anything else that looks appetizing.
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"Pop rocks. Like eating fireworks."
He is a five year old with the body and experience of a dirty old man. Somehow.
"How about you?"
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"I enjoy a good charcuterie board. Meats, cheeses, bread, perhaps some fig spread."
Not exactly a 'snack food' but a snack, and she's not big on snack food in general. She sighs, perhaps she can find some of that around somewhere.
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"Any kind really," she replies, finally putting things on her plate. A little cheddar, a bit of what looks to be swiss. "Soft, fragrant cheeses, hard tart cheeses, crumbly blue cheeses..."
Ugh, she's really making herself hungry now.
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Reminiscing about past friends, she really shouldn't feel this at ease, but then again he did just dance around like a fool singing the haiku she had come up with.
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"Sweet lemon cheese." He closes his eyes trying to imagine it, but truthfully he's at a loss. He'd need Masamune's chef instincts for this. "Have you ever had 'guac' or avocado? Samurai Pratt's very fond of it."
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She nods at his question, adding some fruit to her plate, "Yes, it's very popular where I'm from. People put it on toast and in smoothies..." Because he might not know what those are she adds, "Cold, sweet, thick, fruit-based drinks."
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"I think I've had smoothies though. With alcohol. They give brain freeze if you drink too quickly."
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"Yes, there's different names for those, but they are essentially smoothies." a pause, "Do they not have a lot of sweets where you are from?"
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"Basically none. All sugar has to be imported, red bean paste and chestnut filling doesn't really compare to chocolate or peanut butter. And we have nothing frozen. I'm from 1582, and Hell can barely grow enough to survive. Nothing for luxuries like that. We dont have cows or sheep either. So no milk, cheese, and most meat is extremely discouraged by the cults."
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"When you say Hell, I assume you don't mean the underworld. Lucifer's domain. The realm of demons from Christian mythology?"
Because Nobunaga isn't evil as she knows it, or a demon like those from her world, and she knows he has a soul, she can sense it.
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This needs a real seat. He gestures and -- fails at sitting again. Another thing Hell, whether how literal that is, even Nobunaga doesn't really know - severely lacks. Chairs.
Nobunaga rests his chin in a fist, pondering it, collecting everything from his life and the recent months he's learned about the concepts in all forms.
"I didn't used to believe in any of it, no matter what Luis Frois, Francisco, and the others said. I thought I'd sold my soul in exchange for power, did everything wrong that the Buddhists said would turn me into the Demon King of 6th Heaven. The more I learn about the future, the more it truly does seem like heaven. Out in the stars. Astronauts in space. And this is purgatory, a downgrade for the future, an upgrade for me." A head tilt. "Frois and the others often said I was waging a holy war against literal demons even though I let my reputation become that of Satan. How much is real or not, I do not know. My baby sister always thought Amaterasu favored me. I wonder. I've met her, and our goals seem much aligned, to lift up Japan out of Hell, but the cause of its descent..." a head shake.
"I do think Japan's in Hell now. In my time. And that somehow we, me and my generals, were able to drag it back to Earth. Somehow. I am constantly reminded here that things I take for granted are not true at all in the future. I know some things about Hell, mythology, magic, souls are real now, but that means Japan has truly sunk into hell sometime after or during the Ōnin War. How much that means to other timelines... I have no idea."
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It seems complex. Nobunaga's aura is heavy with death and darkness, a soul even she wouldn't want to look at if she could. She understands his idea of the Serena Eterna being like Purgatory. She's not pleased to be here, but it is slightly better than Hell.
"I'm afraid I don't have an answer to that either. But I don't think you are evil, if it's any consolation. Complex maybe, but not evil." She smiles, "Evil people don't feel joy over poetry in quite the same way."
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"Is that so?" Nobunaga just arches an eyebrow in amusement. "I'm sure they could." Maybe? He just leans into the fist. "Don't get me wrong. I'm a sadist and a monster all the way through." But he didn't have to act with decorum anymore. Not even with the amount he'd assumed he'd have to hold if he traveled overseas: representing Japan as the first Japanese to leave the islands in the strongest sense of the word, to see the world, to gain every bit of knowledge the rest of the world had to offer him.
"I'm happiest when others are miserable." That's not entirely true. It's more like in spite of it. He's not happy because they're miserable, except to serve as a hard foil to try to drag people out of their oppression. And he had gotten frozen of temper and soul after the fires of Mt. Hiei. Death affects even a monster like him, as much as he doesn't think it matters since he was the one survived.
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Death. So much of it. Both by his hand and order. Guilt. Buried very deep but still there. A soul burdened with emotions, bandaged with humor and joy and the belief that it is evil.
Her eyes open. The irises bright scarlet.
"You are indeed a monster. But not all monsters are evil."
She shakes her head, the red clearing back into a deep green
"Anyway, I'm not here to be a therapist or help people process their emotions. And I am starved for food that is not sweets."
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"Oh, I do need to stop by Mikabo to get more sushi for Siffleur later. And I should make some intricate puzzle boxes that are not so easily opened with a mere swipe of claws." He doesn't explain that statement. Something something monsters probably.
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"Yeah, uh. You do that."
She returns to the buffet, not quite sure if she's learned anything important about her new home, but certainly has learned a few things about the other people here.