taair khalisa nasir 🕊️ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
historicals) wrote2025-02-08 03:58 pm
historicals) wrote2025-02-08 03:58 pm
pc catchall | turboheaven | yves
seems like their vibe
seems like their vibe
seems like their vibe
seems like their vibe
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[ a beat ]
But um... we've had other troubles since then, so we still didn't open our borders or anything. It's been a little... tumultuous.
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but - something about that rings familiar, and he huffs, looking down at the book in his lap and shaking his head. ]
Ah... I see, I see. That's a familiar line - for every victory, another struggle, no matter the nation or its woes. [ taair falls quiet for a thoughtful moment after that - then smiles a little again, something tinged with a little hope. ] I hope that things in your home will settle down, Yves. And that the people of your island will continue to strive forward, to wherever forward might be.
But, a nation isolated... how does it feel, to be outside of it? [ a beat, and then - he lifts his hands, flustering a little, apologetic: ] -- Though, if that's far too personal of a question, considering the circumstance, of course, I understand...!
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. . . . but he looks thoughtful at that, and then offers them a smile. taiir doesn't know the half of it. ]
I bought them a chance, and that's all I could do. But with the people left behind, I believe that they can pull together and have a better future. Maybe it's the privilege of the dead to say it, but... it's the duty of those left behind to move on.
[ he grins and scoots closer so that he can playfully bump shoulders with taiir ]
What'd I say about manners getting in the way of friendship? You can ask me anything. I'm happy to be here, and I'm happy to get to know you.
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the nudge sets him off center a bit - he's fragile, the blow-over-in-the-breeze kind of type, but taair laughs a little with it, warmed by the gesture even still. ]
You'll have to excuse me - I'm afraid I'm still very new to having friends. [ very, very new. the jocular, easy gesture gets his ears to turn a little pink, even, but he sounds joyful for it. ] Very well, but... I do hope that you'll ask of me, as well. It's only fair, no matter how much I'd like to learn.
[ and... since he did let the permission go, taair reroutes his question, curiosity taking over. ] You...bought them a chance, you said?
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Ah, it's just how I died. I was able to address the main threat to the island, though it required me dying in the process.
[ his tone is a little more serious, though it's not particularly sad ]
I chose it though, so I hope you don't feel bad for me or anything.
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taair shakes his head, and says, with conviction behind it - ] Not at all. To make an active choice and steer your own destiny - that's hardly something to feel bad for.
It reminds me of a tale from my homeland, even.
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though he looks curious ]
Oh? A tale? Dazzle me, storyteller!
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so!! taair hums a little bit, and scoots closer - opening the book on his lap, and turning the pages so yves can see. the inside of the book is written in perfect, neat handwriting, with diagrams and maps, and as he flips to a certain page, he smooths it open with both hands.
taair is a good storyteller. he launches into it as only a historian could - soft, even voice, full of passion for his subject. ]
In the year 985, my homeland - then known as the State of Iria - was under the control of the Papal States of Rodinia, as one of its many vassal states. In the archives of the Papal States, these years were golden and prosperous, and the Irians gathered the holy material of luxite and brought it to the capital of Lightgloam City, the Grand Sanctuary under the Radiance. In exchange, the Papal States protected Iria from her potential invaders, and kept the state prosperous and happy.
But, that was not the case at all.
In reality, the State of Iria's rulers, puppets of the Papal State, taxed the poor citizens to pad the pockets of the Light of Sanctuary - ignoring their very duty to enforce law and order, so long as their tithes were paid. The treatment of the Irians was cruel, and noneso was more heinous than the Luxite mines, where Irians worked for trifles in dangerous, deadly conditions, to extract all the rich, valuable luxite and give it to the Papal States. Luxite is not a holy artifact, but rather, an extremely precious commodity, and Iria's lands were full of it.
Over the years of oppression and cruelty, the spirit of the people began to grow angrier, and angrier. And the miners, at the heart of it all - began to tell whispers of revolutions through the streets. The Papal States responded to their advances, crushing opposition under their heels, but still, the miners persevered, preparing traps in their mine, gathering their weapons, and forming a plan to surge against the States and overthrow the yokes of oppression that had held them down for so long. Surrounded by explosive ore that could go off with one false move, surrounded by the best army across all of Rodinia, the miners made their stand.
The well armed soldiers - clad in all white, carrying luxite weapons and powerful magic, supposedly blessed by the Radiant - versus the miners. Dirty, starving, common, people, motivated by their want for freedom. For a better life. Their love for country, for each other, and for the beating heart of a nation that had never had a chance to spread its wings. These miners, and their leader, a man whose name has since been lost to the annals of history, bravely stood at the front of their lines - the leader with an axe, and a fervent heart.
On the day of the rebellion, he and the other miners surged against the overwhelmingly powerful force of the Papal States, and ultimately, they were captured - to call it a suicide mission was putting it lightly. As the men stood in the mines in shackles and chains, the soldiers marched their leader to the front, to have him executed before the rest of the miners as an example. The captain of the guard asked him if he was afraid, attempting to make a mockery, or to perhaps shame him. After all, a man just moments from losing his life may just say many things to save it - and yet. The leader of the miner turned his head back towards his men, and at the point of a crossbow, he shouted, with all of his heart - "The only thing we have to fear is indifference and numbness!"
[ there's a brief pause as he says it - for a moment, reveling in the mental image, in the cause, in the fearsome miner's rebellion, and of course, for just a bit of dramatic effect. ]
...In the end, the miners were all killed, not just the leader, and the Papal States attempted to suppress the miner's rebellion as little more than an upstart as opposed to a movement to freedom. But the spark had been lit, and the Miner's Rebellion left a scorch mark that turned into a blaze. It was within six months that Iria overthrew the reign of the Papal States, and moved from vassal to independent kingdom.
[ he taps his hands against his book, and smiles. ]
The deaths of those miners was a tragedy that ought never to have happened, yes. But, their choice - as the historical records tell it, they stood against oppression, anyway. And it was their sacrifice that led to their ultimate goal, even though they never got to see it.
[ and then - the smile goes a bit more sheepish, and he huffs a laugh. ] The end.
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a deep frown at the mention of the cruelty the people faced. an understanding nod at the stand the miners took. a truly perfectly timed soft 'whoa' in the middle of taiir's dramatic effect.
and when the story concludes, he claps. he applauds properly, and matches taiir's smile with one of his own ]
You're really riveting, you know? I could listen to you all day.
[ a simple and true compliment from the heart ]
I get what you're trying to say... and it's true. Every act of resistance counts.
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Thank you - you're too kind. [ to tell stories has always been a dream of his after all, and it's nice, to share something that means so much to him with others, with an engaged audience. he gently rests a hand on the book still in his lap, and looks up at the sky overhead. ]
And...yes, you're right. It does. [ every act of resistance, no matter how valiant, no matter how small. ] I've kept that phrase with me often - the only thing we fear is indifference and numbness. I wish that I had half the courage the miners did.
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yves hasn't known fear for a while now, not in the same way, but the heart of the matter resonates with him. ]
I think you do. I think there's courage in storytelling, and sharing the roots and truth of your home, even if it's not always shining and beautiful.
But if you want to do more - I think anyone's capable of that too, if they ever want to.
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but in the end, those thoughts are long out of reach - whether he was dead, or not, they were far from taair's outstretched fingertips. he smiles anyway, though, closing his eyes briefly as he brings his gaze back down. ]
... Thank you, my friend. You're very kind. [ unconsciously, he runs a hand over the book again. his little act of courage. his little truths, his life's work. to have it here, even unfinished, is a gift, but one that worries him all the same.
his eyes open again, and the warm smile returns as he turns to face yves. ] At the very least, what I am capable of here is learning many, many new histories - and interacting with all of you. It has been a joy to hear about what you all have seen and experienced, and one I could never have even imagined I would have gotten to have.
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No? Did you not get out much, Taiir?
I had a friend like that back home. He was pretty shy! He only came out into society within the past year...
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what yves says makes him - laugh, a little? ]
Ahaha... that's one way to put it, yes. [ ... ] Out in the past year, you say? It must have been a bit overwhelming. Was it shyness that kept him in?
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[ with a fond little smile. ]
Though you don't seem that shy to me, Taiir... Were your circumstances different? [ a beat ] Only if you're open to talking about it, I mean.
[ he similarly doesn't want to push if someone wants to hold something a little closer to the chest ]
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...I see a bit of myself in your friend, yes. [ ... ] What do you think of, when you think of a caged bird, Yves?
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That it must be treasured very much, for someone to want to keep it so close.
... but is that best for the bird? Even if it is treated kindly, is it not being kept from the sky it longs for? That it's born for?
[ he is a hopeful person. cheerful, bright, kind. but in matters of ownership, in keeping, in being a steward - he does find himself wrestling with the nuance often.
and given the lead-up to this conversation, he can't help but feel like that difficult part is what they need to talk about ]
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That's a fair assessment. [ from beginning, to end. ] It's a bit like that, I suppose. I have always been something of a canary.
[ ... ]
But, I suppose... one way or another, I am free, now.
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okay well
yves will just wrap an arm around taiir's shoulders in a casual, easy hug. it doesn't need to be anything big if he doesn't want it to be but...
it felt fitting for the moment ]
I'm sorry. [ for your cage ]
... I hope this place is kinder to you. No limits.
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when he looks at yves again, tilting his head up to do so, it's with a smile - the warmth from before returns. touched, by the kindness of others. by the care of others. it's like feeling the sun on his face, the grass under his boots. like convallaria cakes and a raucous tavern. ]
Thank you, my dear friend. [ he lifts his hand to reach up and cover his on his arm briefly, and give it a little squeeze in return. ] Truly. There's no need to feel any sorrow for me, either - I am already beyond blessed, that I've been able to meet all of you, and hear your wonderful stories.
Whatever comes next, or whatever happened before - living in this moment has brought me a great amount of joy. To say this place is kind does not even begin to cover it.
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Good. I'm glad. That's what you deserve, so I hope that everything you get to experience here is that fulfilling. [ murder is coming ]
Who said that death has to be the end, you know?