[I am not even going to bother picking a location WE CAN PICK ONE LATER IF WE WANT!!! For now, they just happen to be in the void, and HELLO PIG. Goodbye pig.
[ also, yuzuriha needs a moment to digest the memory. in reality, she's definitely more dori than she is kaveh—pragmatic, objective, impartial.
but this is his memory, and she is reliving his experience.
yuzuriha is not an artist—she never had a chance to be. but she wonders what it would have been like to have that sort of generous soul, have enough to continuously give to a world that only keeps taking.
to be frank, they don't often see eye to eye on things. but here, she is looking through his mind, perceiving the possibility of beauty she would have never seen otherwise. seeing all the hurt he has received and puts towards creating more love.
he has something she doesn't, a unique strength that sets him apart, too. ]
[It's... kind of funny, honestly. You'd think that something like this, despite the scale of destruction, wouldn't be more than unfortunate tragedy. To most other people, it would have been upsetting, but not soul-rending. It would not have been worth sacrificing everything for.
But Kaveh is his mother's son. More than anything else--more, even, than a self-sacrificial "goody-two-shoes," as Alhaitham might call him--he is a creator. To Kaveh, art is more than just paint on a canvas. Architecture is more than just bricks and glass. Beauty is more than a well-tailored outfit or a cloudless sunset. It is all fundamental to his being, and critical to the human experience.
With all of that said--perhaps it is funny, that this memory is something as personal to him as the death of his father, or the departure of his mother. But for Kaveh, who'd lost so much--Kaveh, whose vision had been shunned and dismissed for so long--it had felt like the most correct thing he could possibly do. There was never any choice beyond chasing his dreams. Construction was ultimately just business, but ideals were priceless.]
Ah--yes, it did. We completed construction a few months later.
[ she may not understand his passion fully, but she recognizes it for what it is. he is not the first artist she's met. their souls are usually much gentler, though no less resolved.
and as if on cue, another pig rushes by. kaveh will see this memory... (12:52 - 14:50)
[He jumps at the sudden arrival of the pig, but he doesn't have time to react much beyond that before the memory slams into him.
It's the kind of dark reality that Kaveh never really had to face until he came here. He'd been reminded, early on, of what a privileged life he's led, despite the hardships, the pain, the loss. He's never had to take a life with his own two hands. Never lived through war or famine. This, too, is a painful reminder that so many people here have led such rough lives.
He remembers what she'd told him about the false paradise. And he wonders if this is that place--and if so, if this is the sort of thing she's had to deal with, or if it's only a fraction of the grim horrors she's been through. From the way she talks, he thinks it might be latter.
Softly--]
Yuzuriha... [...] That was kind of you.
[He wouldn't be able to hold onto things for his own sake. He would've used up everything he had for other people. But he understands her thinking, especially when he sees the memory from her perspective. And he can acknowledge what she did for this man.]
[It reminds him, a little, of some of the other things he's seen and heard about. The experiences other people have had--the lives they've lived, which ripped the option of safety and comfort away from them.
It says a lot about her, he thinks, that she tried for a kind gesture even when making a pragmatic decision.]
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ohthehumanities) wrote2023-06-11 03:52 pm
Week 4, Monday
Yuzuriha gets to see this memory!]
no subject
[ also, yuzuriha needs a moment to digest the memory. in reality, she's definitely more dori than she is kaveh—pragmatic, objective, impartial.
but this is his memory, and she is reliving his experience.
yuzuriha is not an artist—she never had a chance to be. but she wonders what it would have been like to have that sort of generous soul, have enough to continuously give to a world that only keeps taking.
to be frank, they don't often see eye to eye on things. but here, she is looking through his mind, perceiving the possibility of beauty she would have never seen otherwise. seeing all the hurt he has received and puts towards creating more love.
he has something she doesn't, a unique strength that sets him apart, too. ]
...Did it work?
no subject
But Kaveh is his mother's son. More than anything else--more, even, than a self-sacrificial "goody-two-shoes," as Alhaitham might call him--he is a creator. To Kaveh, art is more than just paint on a canvas. Architecture is more than just bricks and glass. Beauty is more than a well-tailored outfit or a cloudless sunset. It is all fundamental to his being, and critical to the human experience.
With all of that said--perhaps it is funny, that this memory is something as personal to him as the death of his father, or the departure of his mother. But for Kaveh, who'd lost so much--Kaveh, whose vision had been shunned and dismissed for so long--it had felt like the most correct thing he could possibly do. There was never any choice beyond chasing his dreams. Construction was ultimately just business, but ideals were priceless.]
Ah--yes, it did. We completed construction a few months later.
no subject
I glad to hear it.
[ she may not understand his passion fully, but she recognizes it for what it is. he is not the first artist she's met. their souls are usually much gentler, though no less resolved.
and as if on cue, another pig rushes by. kaveh will see this memory... (12:52 - 14:50)
cw: injury, blood, death ]
no subject
It's the kind of dark reality that Kaveh never really had to face until he came here. He'd been reminded, early on, of what a privileged life he's led, despite the hardships, the pain, the loss. He's never had to take a life with his own two hands. Never lived through war or famine. This, too, is a painful reminder that so many people here have led such rough lives.
He remembers what she'd told him about the false paradise. And he wonders if this is that place--and if so, if this is the sort of thing she's had to deal with, or if it's only a fraction of the grim horrors she's been through. From the way she talks, he thinks it might be latter.
Softly--]
Yuzuriha... [...] That was kind of you.
[He wouldn't be able to hold onto things for his own sake. He would've used up everything he had for other people. But he understands her thinking, especially when he sees the memory from her perspective. And he can acknowledge what she did for this man.]
no subject
Don't think too much of it.
[ she had done what was pragmatic, after all. words are easy to give, actions so much harder to carry out. ]
It was the only choice we had.
[ she just wonders if she'll ever have to make that choice again, here. ]
no subject
It says a lot about her, he thinks, that she tried for a kind gesture even when making a pragmatic decision.]
That's the place you mentioned before, right?
no subject
Shinsenkyo. 'Divine Paradise', that's the name of the island we were sent to. Nobody who's been there has come back alive to tell the story.
[ guess she's one in those numbers, now. ]
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Would you believe me if I just left it at 'really bad luck'?
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You don't have to tell me, if you'd rather not.
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It's a long story, and I'm feeling a bit winded.
[ oocly IT REALLY IS... SO MUCH... AHHHHHH ]
...Thanks for understanding.
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He shakes his head though.]
It's alright. This place shouldn't force personal things out of us the way that it does anyway.
no subject
...Maybe one day over drinks. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like my secrets want to stay secrets for very long.
[ and then they partied WAY TO HARd ON WEdNESdAY TO dO ANY OF THAT ]