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originally posted in:The New Dojo
12/27/2017 3:47:39 AM
1
“Samurais were Japanese, yeah? こんにちは?”
The male voice came from a few meters behind the samurai. As he said the word ‘hello’ in Japanese, it was clear that he was not a native speaker of the language. His pronunciation, while not abysmal, was still not something a Japanese person would want to listen to.
If Shila were to turn around and look at the bearer of the voice, she’d find an average looking man, with a fair skin tone and mesomorphic body. He stood at a height of 5’11”, and had a head of wild black hair, that couldn’t seem to stay still. The only thing that could serve to differentiate the man from the average civilian was the cybernetic left arm, but even that was common amongst combatants. If he was unique in any way, it definitely wasn’t in appearance.
English
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“Yes...and they were also the royal guards of my homeworld. We were kind of what happens when you mix ancient Sol Japanese culture and modernized Sol American culture. If you can think of that.” Shila tells the man, seemingly getting up. “I don’t know much about the Japanese language, except that and goodbye. Father never really wanted me to learn anything other than English.
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“So like... robo samurai with guns?” He guessed, using his imagination. He was, in facf, quite intrigued; even when he visited certain Japanese sectors of Tatakai, the only samurais he’d seen were statues or cosplays. You could call him a fascinated tourist, honestly. “And homeworld? So you’re not from this planet?” His inquisitiveness was light an casual, not something that would normally make a person uncomfortable.
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Edited by A Stormy Dio: 12/27/2017 5:14:09 PM“Both...is a yes. Although it wasn’t always like that; we had to adapt. As for my homeworld, yes. Came from a desert world with multiple oasises of cherry blossoms and massive gardens.” Shila had told him, proceeding to lay down and stare toward the stars. Sure, this person was a stranger to her. But, he seemed to be interested in her culture, and was more than willing to tell him about her former world.
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He sat down; the man could picture the scene quite easily. He’d traveled far and wide, and seen many environments, after all. “A desert with cherry blossoms, huh? I can understand the samurai thing, then. What caused you to leave?” Indeed, there were many reasons a person might want to leave their homeland. However, the man could never quite connect with those reasons, because as far as he could remember (which wasn’t very far), he’d never had a homeland.
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“A war. Mercenaries came in, wanted to profit off of the various things we had. Iridium deposits, the cherry blossoms I mentioned earlier, even something they called ‘element zero’ was in our main palace. My people refused. My father sent me off so that I’d have to avoid the war going on at home.” She had told him.
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“Sent you off, instead of having you help win the war?” He asked. “Was your family one of importance?” Wars were one of things he knew too well yet not well enough. He’d seen conflicts, battles, wars, and his fair share of bloodshed. He understood why the father would want to send Shila away. But he didn’t understand the greed and selfishness that drove the mercenaries to start the war–in other words, the political side.
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“My father was the War General they brought in when the war started. He wanted me to have a legacy if he died there.” Shila had told him, staring toward the sky. War was different from her. Most likely, she never understood the full capacity of war, full of actual death, and the threat of death looming over anyone’s head, no matter what side they came from in whatever conflict in whatever place at whatever time.
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“Ahh, that makes sense,” Vance replied, staring up at the sky. “Do you ever think about how he’s doing? Or do you ever wish you could go back and try to help him survive?” He didn’t know much about what a person in Shila’s position would or fantasize about, which was why he was curious.
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“I...wish I could. Mostly that I’d have the best of two worlds; both here and at home. My father said not to worry about him, considering that he’d at least want me safe, but...I don’t know. Don’t know about what’s happened to my home in nearly 9 months.” Shila had told Vance, sniffling as she stared up at the stars.
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“Aww, don’t sniffle. I don’t know what’s happened to my home in the past 25 years!” He exclaimed, forcing a laugh. “What matters is living here, and now. Though if you ever [i]do[/i] get the chance to return to your homeworld, I’d love to come with you.”
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She stopped sniffling, looking up at Vance. “Yeah; sounds alright, for the most part. I mean, I don’t even know when to come back. But for now...I might as well stay here.” She had told him. “Never caught your name, by the way.”
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“Ahh... call me Lysander.” He said. At this point, giving out false names was an ingrained habit of his. It was nothing against Shila, for Vance gave a different alias to every single person he met. “And you, miss?”
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“Shila. Simple as that.” She replies. No one exactly knew of her group, thus it would make sense that she tells her real name; at the time, she wasn’t under any risk of death from any bounties employee by the merge or anything like that.
