[ there is no expectation for shousetsu's response from the demigod. it's predictable, that the noble samurai would be at a loss for words, stunned and frightened by her servant's power and strength of will. (in some small parts, it's disappointing, and ushi gozen recalls the moments she'd spent behind that mask in self-silenced discontent, unable to see eye-to-eye with her compassionate master.)
in the end, though, it hardly matters. regardless of what shousetsu could say or do — endorse her efforts wholeheartedly, maintain helpless neutrality, or even attempt to fight back — ushi gozen would continue to pursue what she knew as their shared vision for the world.
no, this display never mattered. even should her master never understand her, at least the both of them would be fulfilled in the next life.
though she clasps shousetsu's hand, squeezes her when she shakes, ushi gozen is distant, dreaming of the end — she sees the black edge of the future, the absolution of nothingness, freedom from the world's pain and strife. it's how she justifies those tears,
and how she immediately shifts her attention when their missions finds them again.
the celebration from nosy passersby is enough to pull her away from her master's eyes, and she rises to her feet to meet them —
—just as the waiter is barreled over by the flying table.
(unfortunate for him that neither she nor shousetsu were in the line of fire, for rider would have cut the thing in two in the blink of an eye.
still, she readies herself, spotting the rampaging perpetrator bringing its heavy feet down upon the scattered main stage: a mammoth-sized creature with trunk and tusks and spear-sized needles armoring its back. an elephant crossed with a porcupine, she guesses.
with chaos already in motion, rider summons her sword in hand, quickly abandoning her disguise, and everything that just happened between them. ]
Steady yourself, Shousetsu.
[ she mentally sweeps the area: the theater layout of the booths, the waves of the crowd rushing towards the emergency exits. ignoring the men and women pushing past her, rider turns to her master. ]
no subject
in the end, though, it hardly matters. regardless of what shousetsu could say or do — endorse her efforts wholeheartedly, maintain helpless neutrality, or even attempt to fight back — ushi gozen would continue to pursue what she knew as their shared vision for the world.
no, this display never mattered. even should her master never understand her, at least the both of them would be fulfilled in the next life.
though she clasps shousetsu's hand, squeezes her when she shakes, ushi gozen is distant, dreaming of the end — she sees the black edge of the future, the absolution of nothingness, freedom from the world's pain and strife. it's how she justifies those tears,
and how she immediately shifts her attention when their missions finds them again.
the celebration from nosy passersby is enough to pull her away from her master's eyes, and she rises to her feet to meet them —
—just as the waiter is barreled over by the flying table.
(unfortunate for him that neither she nor shousetsu were in the line of fire, for rider would have cut the thing in two in the blink of an eye.
still, she readies herself, spotting the rampaging perpetrator bringing its heavy feet down upon the scattered main stage: a mammoth-sized creature with trunk and tusks and spear-sized needles armoring its back. an elephant crossed with a porcupine, she guesses.
with chaos already in motion, rider summons her sword in hand, quickly abandoning her disguise, and everything that just happened between them. ]
Steady yourself, Shousetsu.
[ she mentally sweeps the area: the theater layout of the booths, the waves of the crowd rushing towards the emergency exits. ignoring the men and women pushing past her, rider turns to her master. ]
... What are your orders?