Death is all he's ever known, after all. It's what he's made for, in the most literal sense--and unlike the older swords, or the treasured keepsakes, Yasusada has only ever known war. War, sickness, isolation, and more war.
On occasion, he knows, death can be made performative--assassinations and sacrifice are all things he's familiar with, even if he doesn't particularly like them. It's never been like this, on the sort of stage he's come to associate with peacetime and laughter, but that just leaves him more confused than alarmed or infuriated. Is this--should it be like this? Truly? Something doesn't feel right.
Yasusada doesn't know these people, doesn't know what they've done or who their enemies are; when it's the woman's turn, he jumps to his feet, too, but it's a reflexive response to the sound of arrows, an ingrained reaction to the potential threat of battle. He reaches for his blade, but of course, it isn't there--and he, too, briefly freezes.
It's Vax's voice that spurs him--that raw agony, the sort that Yasusada is painfully familiar with. A tone that's left his own throat more than once, even before he had a voice to scream with.
What does he do? What can they do?
Is there a threat, still? Will Vax get shot, too, if he stays up there?
That thought is enough to get him moving, leaving the aisle to try and run to where Vax is.]
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Death is all he's ever known, after all. It's what he's made for, in the most literal sense--and unlike the older swords, or the treasured keepsakes, Yasusada has only ever known war. War, sickness, isolation, and more war.
On occasion, he knows, death can be made performative--assassinations and sacrifice are all things he's familiar with, even if he doesn't particularly like them. It's never been like this, on the sort of stage he's come to associate with peacetime and laughter, but that just leaves him more confused than alarmed or infuriated. Is this--should it be like this? Truly? Something doesn't feel right.
Yasusada doesn't know these people, doesn't know what they've done or who their enemies are; when it's the woman's turn, he jumps to his feet, too, but it's a reflexive response to the sound of arrows, an ingrained reaction to the potential threat of battle. He reaches for his blade, but of course, it isn't there--and he, too, briefly freezes.
It's Vax's voice that spurs him--that raw agony, the sort that Yasusada is painfully familiar with. A tone that's left his own throat more than once, even before he had a voice to scream with.
What does he do? What can they do?
Is there a threat, still? Will Vax get shot, too, if he stays up there?
That thought is enough to get him moving, leaving the aisle to try and run to where Vax is.]
Vax!