driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Kubo and You
Broadcast: Video
Action: SS Marsiva
When:

[ Kubo wakes up with a jerk, fumbling around before he realizes it's not dark. The fire isn't lit and — this wasn't the cave he grew up in. Groping around, Kubo felt the solid presence of his shamisen, the two strings intact and breathes a sigh of relief. Then he carefully slips off the bed, slinging it over his back. With his one eye, he looked around. And pinches himself. ]

Okay. Not dead. Where am I? This isn't the Heavens . . . is it?

[ He had been sure everything had been settled, but Kubo hadn't exactly had time to learn the exact nature of what lingers above. ]

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[ He plucks a few more notes as the paper straightens itself, going back to where they were. ]

If you don't mind, then I can do that.

[Aw, the paper show is over. Goodbye, paper pig.]

I would be delighted.

Besides, it would make it easier to eat all this candy I got, too - all at once and we're likely to get stomach-aches.

This place has that much food?

I'm not sure, but I certainly used all my earned money to buy as much as I could.

[His priorities are in the best places.]

The ships don't appear to have much of shortage of food, although some people went hunting for fresh meat recently.

Oh. I guess it just sounds weird to me. That there's always food around.

[He's always lived in the samurai class, even when his family was poor, so...]

It is a little strange, I suppose. There isn't much of a need to go to market here. I still don't completely trust the "food" they have here, but there isn't much risk of going hungry.

[ As long as the food isn't terrible, he'd probably eat it. ]

If there's food, it's probably not a big deal as long as it's edible.

Well, it's edible.

[He rolls his head to one side, contemplating whether he should really call it "food" or not. It's paste - multiflavored and colored paste. It's. Weird.]

And it provides sustenance, but I've been trying to make new friends here that actually know how to cook.

I can cook! Basic stuff, really. Like rice, miso soup . . .

You've been holding out on me, Kubo-kun! I was never taught any of that because my sisters never wanted me to learn.

[He was supposed to take over the household until he was given away. And then... well, he hadn't really been given a good childhood.]

And you're in luck! We managed to find some rice at the last station. [He pauses.] Oh, I should introduce you to Aoko-san... She makes rice balls in the shapes of animals.

People can do that?

[ That's more amazing than moving origami. ]

Right? I'm so excited to see what they look like! I asked her for a pig, too. She said she can make one!

[Sensing a theme here, yet?]

She can probably do a better job than I can.

Now now, don't sell yourself short. No one else can make them move like you can.

[He taps the screen where Kubo's face is - which he probably can't see, but should be able to hear.]

My mother could. She's the one who taught me.

["Could" - that's an important distinction the boy just made. Not "can," but "could." He won't say anything about that, but he's made a mental note.]

What a beautiful skill to pass on.

But! That doesn't change that you're the only person I know who can do what you do. So to me, you're amazing.

[ He brushes his hair back, faintly sheepish. He's never gotten this much praise before. ]

It would look special to strangers. The people in my village are used to it by now - but they still enjoy the show.

The people in your village are very lucky to have such a talented storyteller in their midst.

[He laughs a little.]

The closest we got to story telling was when Harada-san decided to paint his belly and do a dance when he was drunk.

[ That sounded like something Beetle would do. ]

What kind of dance?

[Oh no, don't make him remember this. It's both awesome and awful at the same time.]

Well, he has a scar on his stomach, you see, so he dresses it up with makeup like a woman with large eyes and big red lips.

[Wait, no, he tried, and now that he's remembered it, he's laughing.]

It's not exactly a dance meant for young eyes, let's just say that.

I'm not that young!

[ Still a scar . . . ]

So your friend is a samurai?

[He snickers.]

I'm well over your age and even I think it's a little much sometimes.

[Never let it be said that Harada Sanosuke's lady belly dance was meant for anyone's eyes that weren't 1000000% drunk.]

And yes, he is. We all are. That doesn't frighten you, does it?

No! My father was a samurai. I used to tell his stories with my shamisen. He was the Lord of the Beetle Clan.

[ His chest puffs up because Kubo is proud of his father. Even what his father had become. ]

[That isn't a clan he's familiar with, but it's not like he knows all the clans ever.

And there it is again - "he was." Somehow that makes this boy so much more interesting to him, like Tetsu and Tatsunosuke.]

Well! To become the Lord of his own clan must mean he was very brave indeed. Perhaps you can tell me his story someday. I'd like to hear about your father.

Sure. It's a story I tell often. Full of monsters and quests, even true love.

[ And now, it's a story he knows the ending to. A story he's lived. He can give meaning to their lives. ]