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31_days2005-10-02 07:49 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-10-02 07:49 pm
[October 2] [Samurai Champloo] The fate-fouled fowl and three travelers
Title: The fate-fouled fowl and three travelers
Day/Theme: October 2 / Fortuna
Series: Samurai Champloo
Character/Pairing: Jin, Mugen, & Fuu
Rating: PG
Not so deep in the woods, but far enough from the narrow muddy rut everybody called, ‘road,’three suspicious figures were huddled around a campfire, deep in discussion. One was a peasant girl wearing a coarse brown dress. Another was a rough-looking ruffian with unruly hair and a jaunty air. The third seemed to be a friar, judging from his plain cassock, who wore his long black hair tied back low at his nape.
“I say we shouldn’t add more firewood,” the ruffian said. “It’ll make the flames flare up and then what would happen to the goose?”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” demanded the girl in exasperation. “We cook the goose over the embers, so of course we have to make the wood burn as hotly as possible first.”
“What? That takes too long! I’m starving. I want my goose down my gullet, now!”
“Well, excuse me. I don’t want my roast goose swimming in blood. I want my poultry well done.”
“Your goose? Miss, don’t get too ahead of yourself. I’m only being generous here. Besides, what’s wrong with a little oozing? It makes the meat juicy.”
“Hey! What do you mean you’re sharing it with us? It’s my goose!”
“Ha! I caught it, girl. That makes it mine.”
“Well, I saw it first. Finders keepers!”
“Is this conversation necessary?” asked the friar. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“Hey, you may not care,” said the girl. “But that’s my goose.”
“Yeah,” agreed the ruffian. “You can’t claim anything, so shut up.”
“This is mine,” the friar pointed out slidding his spectacles up his nose.
The ruffian sputtered, then pointed at the other’s glasses.. “Well... Those haven’t even been invented yet!”
“I was talking about the campfire. It's my campfire.”
“Yeah, well we were talking about my goose.”
“My goose which I found,” corrected the girl.
“Heh. So what if you found it?You won’t be able to catch a lame goose with that size of butt lagging behind.”
“Excuse me! I do not have a big butt. And you wouldn’t have caught that goose, if I didn’t corner it.”
“It was a lame goose, you idiot! It wouldn’t have been able to escape, even if you jumped its ass.”
The girl’s brown eyes widened indignantly. “You vulgar peasant! Accusing me of bestiality of all things.”
“Your dirty mind, missy. And who do you think you are anyway? I bet your Lord’s this poor jackass who rules over a pigsty and—”
“He is not! My Lord lives in that beautiful castle at—”
“I bet your Lord’s so poor, they don’t even give names to his serfs.”
“I have a name!” protested the girl. “And it’s a good name, too. I am Fuu!”
“Well, Fuu,” the man sniggered. “I am Mugen, and that is Mugen’s duck.”
“Ha!” Fuu was triumphant. “That’s not a duck. That’s a goose!”
“No,” Mugen retorted. “You are!”
“Oh, very funny.” Fuu rolled her eyes. “And I am not a serf.”
“Right. And I’m the queen’s Saturday boytoy.”
“The queen does not have a Saturday boytoy, only a Thursday one.” Fuu stuck her nose to the air. “And I want you to know that you are talking to a free woman. My master heard that I was seeking for the knight with the sunflower on his surcoat, and my master set me free to continue my quest.. I am e-man-ci-pa-ted.”
“Careful. Don’t choke on the big word.” Mugen snorted. “Missy, I’ll get rid of you, too, as fast as I can. You won’t sell in the slave market—not even for free! Maybe your Lord isn’t that bad after all.”
“My master wasn’t trying to get rid of me! He is a learned man. He has very.... very avant garde ideas.”
Mugen suddenly turned serious. “So now what, Fuu? You’re going to become a bandit?”
“A bandit? Of course not!”
“What’s wrong with being a bandit?” demanded Mugen.
“The alternative is to become a beggar,” spoke up their other companion.
“A beggar?” Fuu repeated. “Why?”
“First off, how are you planning to feed yourself?” asked Mugen.
“Well, I know how to plant simple crops and hunt small animals.”
“Hunting in a nobleman’s land is punishable by death,” said the other person again.
“Where are you going to live?”
“I-I...” Fuu looked liked she was about to cry.
“Where will you get dough?”
“But I’m free!” she wailed.
“Dude, you’re doomed.”
“But I thought my luck had changed for the better!” The girl began to weep.
“Heh.” Mugen was unsympathetic. “Fate’s a bitch, missy. And she happens to be in charge.”
“O Fortuna velut luna statu variabilis, semper crescis aut decrescis,” murmured the other man as he bent over his work busily. “Vita detestabilis nunc obdurat et tunc curat ludo mentis aciem. egestatem, potestatem dissolvit ut glaciem.”*
Fuu paused her wailing. “What are you doing?” she suddenly said, peering at their mostly silent companion. “Oh, you’re writing! That’s amazing. I’ve only met two people who could read before.”
“Of course, he can read. He’s one of those preaching sodomites. Call themselves Goliards.”**
“What’s your name, Mister priest?” said Fuu respectfully, seemingly forgetting her unlucky fate.
“His name’s Jin,” answered Mugen.
“You’re together?” asked Fuu curiously.
“No,” Jin replied. “He is a horse bandit who tried to kill me.”
“Hey, you tried to kill me back! Besides, you don’t have a horse.”
“Precisely the reason why I question your sanity and your ability to reason.”
“Hey-! What the fu–”
“I smell something.” Jin was still busy writing on the roll of parchment resting on his knee.
“Smell?” Fuu said, quickly turning to the fire. “G-Gaaah! It’s burning! The goose is burning!”
“Damn it!” said Mugen, leaping for a bucket of water. “I told you, you shouldn’t have added that much firewood.”
“What? You’re not blaming me, are you?!”
“Are you deaf?”
“Argh! Just— Just get the duck out of the fire!”
“Hah! It’s a goose, you moron. You called it a duck!”
Unaffected, Jin continued to write.
"Miser, miser," he murmured. "Modo niger et ustus fortiter."
~19:19
*Jin quotes from "Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi" of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. According to Classical.net, it means, "O Fortune, like the moon you are changeable, ever waxing and waning; hateful life first oppresses and then soothes as fancy takes it; poverty and power it melts them like ice." ^^;; Eheheh...
** Golliards - accodring to Wikipedia., a group of clergy who wrote bibulous, satirical Latin poetry in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
***"Misery me! Now black and roasting fiercely!" from "Cignus ustus cantat (The Roast Swan)" also from Carmina Burana.
Day/Theme: October 2 / Fortuna
Series: Samurai Champloo
Character/Pairing: Jin, Mugen, & Fuu
Rating: PG
Not so deep in the woods, but far enough from the narrow muddy rut everybody called, ‘road,’three suspicious figures were huddled around a campfire, deep in discussion. One was a peasant girl wearing a coarse brown dress. Another was a rough-looking ruffian with unruly hair and a jaunty air. The third seemed to be a friar, judging from his plain cassock, who wore his long black hair tied back low at his nape.
“I say we shouldn’t add more firewood,” the ruffian said. “It’ll make the flames flare up and then what would happen to the goose?”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” demanded the girl in exasperation. “We cook the goose over the embers, so of course we have to make the wood burn as hotly as possible first.”
“What? That takes too long! I’m starving. I want my goose down my gullet, now!”
“Well, excuse me. I don’t want my roast goose swimming in blood. I want my poultry well done.”
“Your goose? Miss, don’t get too ahead of yourself. I’m only being generous here. Besides, what’s wrong with a little oozing? It makes the meat juicy.”
“Hey! What do you mean you’re sharing it with us? It’s my goose!”
“Ha! I caught it, girl. That makes it mine.”
“Well, I saw it first. Finders keepers!”
“Is this conversation necessary?” asked the friar. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“Hey, you may not care,” said the girl. “But that’s my goose.”
“Yeah,” agreed the ruffian. “You can’t claim anything, so shut up.”
“This is mine,” the friar pointed out slidding his spectacles up his nose.
The ruffian sputtered, then pointed at the other’s glasses.. “Well... Those haven’t even been invented yet!”
“I was talking about the campfire. It's my campfire.”
“Yeah, well we were talking about my goose.”
“My goose which I found,” corrected the girl.
“Heh. So what if you found it?You won’t be able to catch a lame goose with that size of butt lagging behind.”
“Excuse me! I do not have a big butt. And you wouldn’t have caught that goose, if I didn’t corner it.”
“It was a lame goose, you idiot! It wouldn’t have been able to escape, even if you jumped its ass.”
The girl’s brown eyes widened indignantly. “You vulgar peasant! Accusing me of bestiality of all things.”
“Your dirty mind, missy. And who do you think you are anyway? I bet your Lord’s this poor jackass who rules over a pigsty and—”
“He is not! My Lord lives in that beautiful castle at—”
“I bet your Lord’s so poor, they don’t even give names to his serfs.”
“I have a name!” protested the girl. “And it’s a good name, too. I am Fuu!”
“Well, Fuu,” the man sniggered. “I am Mugen, and that is Mugen’s duck.”
“Ha!” Fuu was triumphant. “That’s not a duck. That’s a goose!”
“No,” Mugen retorted. “You are!”
“Oh, very funny.” Fuu rolled her eyes. “And I am not a serf.”
“Right. And I’m the queen’s Saturday boytoy.”
“The queen does not have a Saturday boytoy, only a Thursday one.” Fuu stuck her nose to the air. “And I want you to know that you are talking to a free woman. My master heard that I was seeking for the knight with the sunflower on his surcoat, and my master set me free to continue my quest.. I am e-man-ci-pa-ted.”
“Careful. Don’t choke on the big word.” Mugen snorted. “Missy, I’ll get rid of you, too, as fast as I can. You won’t sell in the slave market—not even for free! Maybe your Lord isn’t that bad after all.”
“My master wasn’t trying to get rid of me! He is a learned man. He has very.... very avant garde ideas.”
Mugen suddenly turned serious. “So now what, Fuu? You’re going to become a bandit?”
“A bandit? Of course not!”
“What’s wrong with being a bandit?” demanded Mugen.
“The alternative is to become a beggar,” spoke up their other companion.
“A beggar?” Fuu repeated. “Why?”
“First off, how are you planning to feed yourself?” asked Mugen.
“Well, I know how to plant simple crops and hunt small animals.”
“Hunting in a nobleman’s land is punishable by death,” said the other person again.
“Where are you going to live?”
“I-I...” Fuu looked liked she was about to cry.
“Where will you get dough?”
“But I’m free!” she wailed.
“Dude, you’re doomed.”
“But I thought my luck had changed for the better!” The girl began to weep.
“Heh.” Mugen was unsympathetic. “Fate’s a bitch, missy. And she happens to be in charge.”
“O Fortuna velut luna statu variabilis, semper crescis aut decrescis,” murmured the other man as he bent over his work busily. “Vita detestabilis nunc obdurat et tunc curat ludo mentis aciem. egestatem, potestatem dissolvit ut glaciem.”*
Fuu paused her wailing. “What are you doing?” she suddenly said, peering at their mostly silent companion. “Oh, you’re writing! That’s amazing. I’ve only met two people who could read before.”
“Of course, he can read. He’s one of those preaching sodomites. Call themselves Goliards.”**
“What’s your name, Mister priest?” said Fuu respectfully, seemingly forgetting her unlucky fate.
“His name’s Jin,” answered Mugen.
“You’re together?” asked Fuu curiously.
“No,” Jin replied. “He is a horse bandit who tried to kill me.”
“Hey, you tried to kill me back! Besides, you don’t have a horse.”
“Precisely the reason why I question your sanity and your ability to reason.”
“Hey-! What the fu–”
“I smell something.” Jin was still busy writing on the roll of parchment resting on his knee.
“Smell?” Fuu said, quickly turning to the fire. “G-Gaaah! It’s burning! The goose is burning!”
“Damn it!” said Mugen, leaping for a bucket of water. “I told you, you shouldn’t have added that much firewood.”
“What? You’re not blaming me, are you?!”
“Are you deaf?”
“Argh! Just— Just get the duck out of the fire!”
“Hah! It’s a goose, you moron. You called it a duck!”
Unaffected, Jin continued to write.
"Miser, miser," he murmured. "Modo niger et ustus fortiter."
~19:19
*Jin quotes from "Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi" of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana. According to Classical.net, it means, "O Fortune, like the moon you are changeable, ever waxing and waning; hateful life first oppresses and then soothes as fancy takes it; poverty and power it melts them like ice." ^^;; Eheheh...
** Golliards - accodring to Wikipedia., a group of clergy who wrote bibulous, satirical Latin poetry in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
***"Misery me! Now black and roasting fiercely!" from "Cignus ustus cantat (The Roast Swan)" also from Carmina Burana.