[ Shinobu and Claude are probably not having good days. But alas, they get thrown into a memory anyway.
You're sixteen, and while the choices you've made in your life often mystify others, this time you wonder to yourself what on earth you were thinking. It would be one thing if you'd decided to make this journey on wyvernback (even if it would leave you more vulnerable to attack, the Fódlan troops at the border are well-versed in the ways of combating Almyran wyvern riders), but you chose to be discreet.
Which brings you here: ambling across Fódlan's throat on foot, stuck in the middle of an ambush.
The mountains of Fódlan's throat are treacherous and uninhabited for the most part, which means that the forests are dense enough that you can conceal yourself behind thick brush to wait out the battle.
It's not an ambush aimed at you, of course, no one knows you're here (probably), but it erupts chaos all around you nonetheless. Almyran warriors swinging great axes toward patrolling soldiers. Sounds of struggle, anger and pain surround you, but you're smart enough not to get involved, carrying no delusions of being a politician so savvy that you could calm the situation with a "let's all get along" speech.
Instead, you try to scramble out of the way of the ever expanding fray, eager to escape when a hand yanks at the back of your shirt. It's not an unfamiliar position for you, so your mind jumps to escape plans rather than panic, but before your attacker can even utter a threat against you, the grip is gone, a meaty thud greeting you in its place.
You turn just in time to see your assailant—an Almyran—clutching at his bleeding leg with one hand, and raising his weapon with his other while spitting curses, but he never gets the chance to bring his axe down. The next strike against slices cleanly through his arm, eliciting an unholy howl, while the next cuts across his throat. Just shallow enough that he has the option to either suffocate on his own blood or let his heart go still from blood loss.
Your hero, a Goneril soldier, celebrates his victory by spitting in the man's face. And you might not have been panicking before, but now, you're frozen. Something sinks all the way from your chest to your belly when the soldier looks toward you, expression softening from disgust to confusion.
"What the hell are you doing out here, kid? Do you want your head chopped off by one of these barbarians? Those Almyrans aren't the type to have mercy, even on brats like you."
The ice spreads quicker across your veins, and for a moment you don't think you'll be able to answer. You feel helpless. Hopeless. Like an idiot for thinking that one side of the border would be any different from the other. Why did you travel all this way? What was the point? Should you just go back?
... Except, you think, as you consider the soldiers stamping out what remains of the ambush, you can't. Giving yourself away now would probably cost you your life.
So instead: "Honestly, it's a really long story."
Anyway, Claude is not going to say anything at first, just letting out a sigh. ]
[ it is rough for shinobu in seeing all the unhappiness that finds all the people she cares for makes her heart ache. otherwise, most of her backstory is free and open for taking even without memshare. she doesn't mind being perceived. she's just surprised when she is.
there is a casual cruelty in both of those soldiers, she thinks. what has claude been through that he's so used to being grabbed and attacked? still, something stands out, even as claude tries to brush things aside, in the memory and out. ]
[ He'd been rearing up to brush aside the memory, but the question catches him off guard.
He finds that he doesn't mind answering. ]
Something better, I suppose. A place where people weren't judged by their blood. [ A shake of his head. ] Unfortunately, things were even more closed off on the other side of the border.
I suppose it's matter of perspective. For me... I had dreams that I chased, of reforming nations. [ He's been a little overconfident in his abilities. ] In the face of all that, solitude didn't matter much. As long as I could survive another day.
Unless you think that a liar doesn't have the right to lead.
I think those who lead nations are bound to lie, and rulers are often solitary.
[ it comes part and parcel in some ways. she doesn't necessarily think it's the greatest thing, but what can she do? she can do a great many things, but her battle isn't in politics. ]
[ He knows there's plenty of fantastical worlds out there, with threats beyond his wildest imagination. It must take a certain kind of creativity and resilience to survive in climates like that.
But.
He just stares at her, in shock. ]
If I reprimand you for your self-sacrifice, are you going to tell me that it's the only logical option?
[ in some ways, she expects this. she knows what she wants to do is extreme for her world. it's not as wild as some others, but not many people plan to get eaten.
her smile doesn't budge. ]
No. It wasn't the only logical option, but it is the one I chose and the one I thought would end in less death.
[ it's very sweet of him to be sad for her EVEN THOUGH HE IS OR WAS ALSO DEAD idk what he did with his seasons wish. ]
I did not want to leave those who cared for me mourning too much, but otherwise, I was fine with the outcome.
[ it went as planned, but... she would admit to wanting to have killed that demon without dying. if her poisons worked... if she could've beheaded him, but she's not so unrealistic. ]
I appreciate your kindness, Claude-san. [ that's sincere. she doesn't want to cause sadness, but it's still kind of him to think so. ] What did you sacrifice?
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week 3, monday, void
Which brings you here: ambling across Fódlan's throat on foot, stuck in the middle of an ambush.
The mountains of Fódlan's throat are treacherous and uninhabited for the most part, which means that the forests are dense enough that you can conceal yourself behind thick brush to wait out the battle.
It's not an ambush aimed at you, of course, no one knows you're here (probably), but it erupts chaos all around you nonetheless. Almyran warriors swinging great axes toward patrolling soldiers. Sounds of struggle, anger and pain surround you, but you're smart enough not to get involved, carrying no delusions of being a politician so savvy that you could calm the situation with a "let's all get along" speech.
Instead, you try to scramble out of the way of the ever expanding fray, eager to escape when a hand yanks at the back of your shirt. It's not an unfamiliar position for you, so your mind jumps to escape plans rather than panic, but before your attacker can even utter a threat against you, the grip is gone, a meaty thud greeting you in its place.
You turn just in time to see your assailant—an Almyran—clutching at his bleeding leg with one hand, and raising his weapon with his other while spitting curses, but he never gets the chance to bring his axe down. The next strike against slices cleanly through his arm, eliciting an unholy howl, while the next cuts across his throat. Just shallow enough that he has the option to either suffocate on his own blood or let his heart go still from blood loss.
Your hero, a Goneril soldier, celebrates his victory by spitting in the man's face. And you might not have been panicking before, but now, you're frozen. Something sinks all the way from your chest to your belly when the soldier looks toward you, expression softening from disgust to confusion.
"What the hell are you doing out here, kid? Do you want your head chopped off by one of these barbarians? Those Almyrans aren't the type to have mercy, even on brats like you."
The ice spreads quicker across your veins, and for a moment you don't think you'll be able to answer. You feel helpless. Hopeless. Like an idiot for thinking that one side of the border would be any different from the other. Why did you travel all this way? What was the point? Should you just go back?
... Except, you think, as you consider the soldiers stamping out what remains of the ambush, you can't. Giving yourself away now would probably cost you your life.
So instead: "Honestly, it's a really long story."
Anyway, Claude is not going to say anything at first, just letting out a sigh. ]
Another one.
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there is a casual cruelty in both of those soldiers, she thinks. what has claude been through that he's so used to being grabbed and attacked? still, something stands out, even as claude tries to brush things aside, in the memory and out. ]
What were you hoping for?
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He finds that he doesn't mind answering. ]
Something better, I suppose. A place where people weren't judged by their blood. [ A shake of his head. ] Unfortunately, things were even more closed off on the other side of the border.
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Were you judged no matter where you went?
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[ hate to break it to claude, but deflecting shinobu isn't that easy. ]
How smart is it to always escape, always run?
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I suppose it's matter of perspective. For me... I had dreams that I chased, of reforming nations. [ He's been a little overconfident in his abilities. ] In the face of all that, solitude didn't matter much. As long as I could survive another day.
Unless you think that a liar doesn't have the right to lead.
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[ it comes part and parcel in some ways. she doesn't necessarily think it's the greatest thing, but what can she do? she can do a great many things, but her battle isn't in politics. ]
Are your dreams no longer the same?
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Claude just shrugs, glancing away. ]
I was overconfident. Those dreams were too big for me, so I suppose you could say I'm in between ambitions now.
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but if he wants to change his dreams, she can't really stop him. it is a little sad, though, because she thinks what he wanted to do was nice. ]
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[ hey where's my mem ]
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here is where i would put a link to youtube of shinobu talking about her dreams to tanjiro to go with her backstory IF IT EXISTED anyway
he can have a more practical ambition that contains mentions of possible vore. ]
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But.
He just stares at her, in shock. ]
If I reprimand you for your self-sacrifice, are you going to tell me that it's the only logical option?
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her smile doesn't budge. ]
No. It wasn't the only logical option, but it is the one I chose and the one I thought would end in less death.
[ it is also the one that gets her revenge. ]
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And it lets you repay the favour of your sister's loss first hand.
If you're using past tense... did your plan already come to fruition then?
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[ she won't shy away from her revenge. it was revenge, but it also helps hundreds and thousands of people. ]
He is dead, with certainty.
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[ she seems at peace with it. ]
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[ he's asking without any judgment, though there is a slight sorrow to his tone ]
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I did not want to leave those who cared for me mourning too much, but otherwise, I was fine with the outcome.
[ it went as planned, but... she would admit to wanting to have killed that demon without dying. if her poisons worked... if she could've beheaded him, but she's not so unrealistic. ]
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I understand that you did what you thought was best, and I'm not naïve enough to believe that wars can be won without sacrifice.
But still, I find it terrible that you couldn't survive.
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I appreciate your kindness, Claude-san. [ that's sincere. she doesn't want to cause sadness, but it's still kind of him to think so. ] What did you sacrifice?
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Too much to count. The lives of my soldiers. The livelihoods of our people as the war razed their fields and towns.
It's hard to think of anyone who didn't suffer for it.
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she listens, and she has to wonder: ]
Are these your regrets?
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But maybe we should've just surrendered, if we were going to lose anyway. Is independence worth all that sacrifice? I don't know.
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