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31_days2009-10-24 01:04 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-10-24 01:04 pm
[Oct. 24] [Suikoden III] Peace Protest
Title: Peace Protest
Day/Theme: Oct. 24, 2009 "Ask tearfully, truly"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai & Fuko
Rating: PG
Sasarai's seminary class had been composed of just five young men. He had done most of his actual studying outside of the seminary under the strict and watchful eye of the man who had also been his childhood tutor: Bishop Hikami T'Rainfellour. The classmate he had known the best, though in some ways he had barely known him all, was Fuko. Closest to his age at a mere year older, Fuko had been lively and brave, striving against Sasarai's own withdrawn nature to try and become his friend. He had wanted to become a teacher, but first he had been forced to be a soldier. You went where the need was greatest. That was the way of the priesthood when you had no family to buy you the post you wanted. Now, put out of the business of war through the loss of his arm, he had finally grasped his dream.
Sasarai wondered why they could never stop being a little bit at odds. He fussed with his uniform as he looked out the window. Here he was on the verge of his march to the Grasslands, trying on a new uniform, his hair newly trimmed somewhat too short by Nika, and outside the Temple compound he could see Fuko. He still had his characteristic ponytail pulled up on the top of his head. His empty sleeve fluttered enticingly in the breeze along with the banners the students drawn to his bold ideals and refreshing personality had brought out. "Peace now," the flags read in a studied script of Harmonian or the broad strokes of common, "Cultivate harmony," said one.
Sasarai appreciated their heartfelt plea to the nerve center of the Temple, but he also knew that short of direct intervention by Hikusaak himself, there was no one who could respond to their efforts and not turn up too little too late. "I prefer peace myself, Fuko," he commented to the empty air around him. But whether or not he wanted war, it was already being served up on the horizon. The masked bishop of Campanella and General Rimini were conferring on the border at that very moment. Other western bishops were involved in the morass as well. No matter what Fuko said, the beginning of this conflict was already written in stone. The best the wounded priest could do was hope to temper the ending of this sad affair.
Sasarai wondered then what had become of the other three members of their seminary class. Had this consumptive nation eaten them alive?
Day/Theme: Oct. 24, 2009 "Ask tearfully, truly"
Series: Suikoden III
Character/Pairing: Sasarai & Fuko
Rating: PG
Sasarai's seminary class had been composed of just five young men. He had done most of his actual studying outside of the seminary under the strict and watchful eye of the man who had also been his childhood tutor: Bishop Hikami T'Rainfellour. The classmate he had known the best, though in some ways he had barely known him all, was Fuko. Closest to his age at a mere year older, Fuko had been lively and brave, striving against Sasarai's own withdrawn nature to try and become his friend. He had wanted to become a teacher, but first he had been forced to be a soldier. You went where the need was greatest. That was the way of the priesthood when you had no family to buy you the post you wanted. Now, put out of the business of war through the loss of his arm, he had finally grasped his dream.
Sasarai wondered why they could never stop being a little bit at odds. He fussed with his uniform as he looked out the window. Here he was on the verge of his march to the Grasslands, trying on a new uniform, his hair newly trimmed somewhat too short by Nika, and outside the Temple compound he could see Fuko. He still had his characteristic ponytail pulled up on the top of his head. His empty sleeve fluttered enticingly in the breeze along with the banners the students drawn to his bold ideals and refreshing personality had brought out. "Peace now," the flags read in a studied script of Harmonian or the broad strokes of common, "Cultivate harmony," said one.
Sasarai appreciated their heartfelt plea to the nerve center of the Temple, but he also knew that short of direct intervention by Hikusaak himself, there was no one who could respond to their efforts and not turn up too little too late. "I prefer peace myself, Fuko," he commented to the empty air around him. But whether or not he wanted war, it was already being served up on the horizon. The masked bishop of Campanella and General Rimini were conferring on the border at that very moment. Other western bishops were involved in the morass as well. No matter what Fuko said, the beginning of this conflict was already written in stone. The best the wounded priest could do was hope to temper the ending of this sad affair.
Sasarai wondered then what had become of the other three members of their seminary class. Had this consumptive nation eaten them alive?