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31_days2006-11-12 02:57 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2006-11-12 02:57 pm
[Nov. 12, 2006][Suikoden] Typhoons
Title: Typhoons
Day/Theme: Nov. 12, 2006 little anodynes that deaden suffering
Series: Suikoden V
Character/Pairing: Orok and Kyle (as older men) and Kyle's grandchildren
Rating: PG
Although it might not have been the best choice of remedies, when our grandfather was feeling pained, he drank. Not necessarily very much, not more than it took to just begin to feel inebriated. He had aches and pains from ancient wounds that revived themselves when the weather was bad and storms were coming near. His joints would creak and he would shake his head and sigh, "The winds are coming. They'll be here anytime now."
He was excellent at predicting storms.
We lived in a port town on the coast of Falena, so sensing the weather changes was a very useful skill. When Grandfather spoke of the winds, the typhoons, we would run to the docks and tell the sailors and the fishermen. At first no one really listened to Grandfather's warnings, but after a major storm smashed ships and sunk a merchant vessel, the townsfolk began to take him seriously.
Grandfather liked to sit on the porch with a cup of red wine and whistle at the young women who passed by. He squinted at the people who walked in front of our house. He spoke sometimes, mostly when he was tipsy, about people he had known when he was a Queen's Knight in Falena. He had known the queen when she was just a little girl and traveled with her aunt and brother. He had been a sort of hero. He never explained exactly why he had left the knights.
"Bernadette? Norma? Haswar?" he would ask plaintively as women went by. He seemed to be forever searching for someone who would never come.
He dulled his pain by singing too. He sang tunes he learned from Ferid, the father of the current queen. They were soulful Island Nations ballades. He held the notes long and low, his strong voice trembling with emotion. We watched him from a distance, not wanting to interrupt him or break the mood. Did he know that we saw him cry a little?
We did not have any parents, so my sisters and I lived with him. He taught us how to fight. He could be so fun. The teasing and mock battles made us brave. Maybe he wanted us to become Queen's Knights ourselves. He never said. He didn't want to pressure us. It was all just fun for Grandfather, pleasure to numb the pain.
Actually, I think we got pretty good. Grandfather was proud of us. He liked to show us off, having us practice our skills for the neighbors to see. We humored him because we loved him. Grandfather was everything to us.
But if it was a woman he was waiting for in the village, she never came. A man came instead, Orok, from a city to the south. He was old too and Grandfather made us drag another chair out of the house and onto the porch so they could sit together and watch the townsfolk go by. They drank some wine and they talked. They talked like we'd never seen anyone talk before. From before lunchtime on until the sun was set.
And so Orok stayed.
Time passed by and the longer he was at our house, the less Grandfather drank, and the less he looked sad. This old friend was a better way to numb the pain of wounds with scars both visible and invisible. We were happy for him. We were happy for both of them.
Grandfather still knew about the storms, but now he gritted his teeth and grinned as we rode them out. "Try and take me now!" he roared with wild glee, while Uncle Orok cowered in fear. Grandfather was quite a different man. Was this what he had been like in his youth? Anyway, we were impressed.
Day/Theme: Nov. 12, 2006 little anodynes that deaden suffering
Series: Suikoden V
Character/Pairing: Orok and Kyle (as older men) and Kyle's grandchildren
Rating: PG
Although it might not have been the best choice of remedies, when our grandfather was feeling pained, he drank. Not necessarily very much, not more than it took to just begin to feel inebriated. He had aches and pains from ancient wounds that revived themselves when the weather was bad and storms were coming near. His joints would creak and he would shake his head and sigh, "The winds are coming. They'll be here anytime now."
He was excellent at predicting storms.
We lived in a port town on the coast of Falena, so sensing the weather changes was a very useful skill. When Grandfather spoke of the winds, the typhoons, we would run to the docks and tell the sailors and the fishermen. At first no one really listened to Grandfather's warnings, but after a major storm smashed ships and sunk a merchant vessel, the townsfolk began to take him seriously.
Grandfather liked to sit on the porch with a cup of red wine and whistle at the young women who passed by. He squinted at the people who walked in front of our house. He spoke sometimes, mostly when he was tipsy, about people he had known when he was a Queen's Knight in Falena. He had known the queen when she was just a little girl and traveled with her aunt and brother. He had been a sort of hero. He never explained exactly why he had left the knights.
"Bernadette? Norma? Haswar?" he would ask plaintively as women went by. He seemed to be forever searching for someone who would never come.
He dulled his pain by singing too. He sang tunes he learned from Ferid, the father of the current queen. They were soulful Island Nations ballades. He held the notes long and low, his strong voice trembling with emotion. We watched him from a distance, not wanting to interrupt him or break the mood. Did he know that we saw him cry a little?
We did not have any parents, so my sisters and I lived with him. He taught us how to fight. He could be so fun. The teasing and mock battles made us brave. Maybe he wanted us to become Queen's Knights ourselves. He never said. He didn't want to pressure us. It was all just fun for Grandfather, pleasure to numb the pain.
Actually, I think we got pretty good. Grandfather was proud of us. He liked to show us off, having us practice our skills for the neighbors to see. We humored him because we loved him. Grandfather was everything to us.
But if it was a woman he was waiting for in the village, she never came. A man came instead, Orok, from a city to the south. He was old too and Grandfather made us drag another chair out of the house and onto the porch so they could sit together and watch the townsfolk go by. They drank some wine and they talked. They talked like we'd never seen anyone talk before. From before lunchtime on until the sun was set.
And so Orok stayed.
Time passed by and the longer he was at our house, the less Grandfather drank, and the less he looked sad. This old friend was a better way to numb the pain of wounds with scars both visible and invisible. We were happy for him. We were happy for both of them.
Grandfather still knew about the storms, but now he gritted his teeth and grinned as we rode them out. "Try and take me now!" he roared with wild glee, while Uncle Orok cowered in fear. Grandfather was quite a different man. Was this what he had been like in his youth? Anyway, we were impressed.