^_^ |/ Hello...
Hmmm... snip introspective Battoussai thingees... my only comments are that Battoussai, through his meanderings about his way of life, which was "a way of death" was quite poetic, calm... yes, he creeps me out here ^^; His smooth poetic style of thinking and rationalizing, introversing, whatever, is rooted to his killing... grotesque and psychotic it is to us, he sees it as an art in itself, like his words in his mind, his skill w/ the sword and his way of life is equally poetic and artistic... though smeared in the grime that death brings (Oh, mistress of grotesque beauty ^_^). I also loved the mistress parts and the red rain stuff. ^_^ Wonderful imagery...
And I know how I must acquire it. Fine. If it wants
satiation, bribery, to give me that skill, it will have it. I will
purge the world in an ocean of blood. I will make a never
ending font of crimson death that it may nourish itself to
unknown ends. I will find out how much it desires, and
supply it. Streams, rivers, oceans, whatever it may demand.
It will be mine.
Again, wonderful imagery. The sea of blood produces an irony to stuff to... he is obviously discontented with his way of life, constantly searching, constantly killing, but he has trodden the wrong path. Like the Alanis Morissette song... "It's like ten thousand spoons, when all you need is a knife..."
I realized that the only way to pry this from my
sword is by glutting it. Thus this I did. I irrigated the fields
of my life with blood. I killed them all. The Hiten
Mitsurugi Ryuu was my fife and drum. It spoke, screamed,
whispered, and cajoled. I was drawn, mothlike, before its
shining light. This light, this undeniable light, it pulled me.
Venomous voices whispering madness and wisdom. I
listened.
Whispering madness and wisdom... you know, Miashara... you can make the coolest lines. I love these deep and euphesisms of the inner Battoussai... it shows what kind of a cunning killer he is. He ain't really a ravenous wolf on the prowl that is wild and feral. Yes, he has this feral side, but there's a mind behind the sheathe. Don't you notice that he has a controlled, cold and calculating anger instead of a burning rage as seen in most over-the-hill protagonists in anime out there?
First was the White Leaf faction. Eighty strong
samurai lived in that mansion. Now there are corpses. I was
unenlightened.
Then the masters of empty hands, a voice for the
peasants they claimed to be. I don't care. I didn't care. They
had taken refuge in their little town, that part of Tokyo they
claimed as their own. How many were there? How many
empty fists met me on the street? How many servants lifted
knives and clubs and graced the walls with their lives? I do
not know. It was myriad.
Question? Taken from the OAVs or fanfiction inventions?
Supporters of the Shogun, haters of the emperor,
presumptuous diamyo, and others came. When they would
not come to me, I came to them. I sought them in rabbit
holes and searched through the streets of the training
grounds. I sought them all, and I found.
Oh the gods look down on me in awe now. For I
have ascended. I fed the kingdoms of the underworld such
that they had bounty like no other. Alone I danced with all.
But through it all, that tempestuous and lying traitor
of my blade remained mum.
I'd also like to comment on how I love this 'personification' of Kenshin's katana. Cool... makes him all the more creepy, which is a good thing ^^ It probably is a psychological manifestation of his utter cunning contorlled madness inside that prods him to kill... 'course, it was my sis who's the psychologist-wanabe, so I can be totally off there. ^^;
My blade was at hand. This blood, this sacred blood
was here. It was all I needed to do. I knew the measure of
those I served and knew they would come as the sounds
echoed first. I had no desire to be silent, I wanted my
companions. They too possessed the fuel I needed. I would
make a pyre of them all. And by that light would I read the
tome of mastery.
Would they be enough? I cared not. I had all Tokyo
before me. More people than the stars of the sky, they
could all be the price of my knowing.
Hmmm... wouldn't he be referring to Tokyo as "Edo" at the time (correct me if I'm wrong.)
I took my oath today. No more. That path is closed.
Who were you who named me the cause of the red
rain? Why can I not remember either your name or face? It
matters.
I will go and learn. For that knowledge may be
greater.
The... ahem... origin eps are called upon here?
I'd discuss them here, but public c&c requires netiquette, and so... I just ask if this has anything to do with... her... eheh... and whoever. Was _she_ the one Kenshin was talking about? The one which he cannot remember (her) face? If so... well... I did remember it diffferently, yes I did...
Wonderful fic! Make more ^_^
Peace and Love,
Jules
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