[The feeling of celebration that hangs in the air like streaming banners on the Marie Antoinette is somewhat abrasive to Ashitaka as he finally makes his way aboard. His primary feeling is one of profound exhaustion. Even before his abduction Gallipoli had been wearing away at him, carving him away piece by piece like he was being eroded over time. Then the Regency - what Kebechet had told him... That had been less wear and tear and more of a fracture, sending a spiderweb of cracks through what was already a shaky conviction for what they were doing. Preserving the free will of a people who would endlessly choose war over peace, consumption over preservation, greed over generosity. Yes, Ashitaka is tired, tired from this and from having to dodge hails of bullets, face distant enemies he could not fight, then finally taking a stand on the beach in a way he finally could.
He had left behind whatever firearms he could've found in Lone Pine, not because of the lack of ammunition but because they were still useless to him. In a way, the Regency's prison had been a haven: one from the pain of his curse that had been a chronic ache, a medley of twinges and pains from the sound of gunfire and the miasma of human savagery. Back here, it was back in force, and it was always worse when he held a gun.
What he would have done to simply have his bow. Instead he had wielded pieces of debris from the camp, keen eyes being able to catch a blueish aura around his arm as the demon mark compensated for strength he would have otherwise lacked.
If such a strange sight had been seen and commented upon, he had brushed it aside, not wishing to dwell on such things. They could formulate whichever explanations they wished. For now, he wished to move away from all of the people, the cloud of noise and relief and excitement, of cheap wine and hands clapping on shoulders and backs.
When Ashitaka wanders past Ryo he actually does have a cup of wine in hand, thinking dully that someone must have pressed it into his possession when he had been weaving his way through the crowd. He has a relatively low intention to drink it. He pauses, considering tossing it overboard, when he's addressed. The person he sees speaking to him is not one he recognizes, and also not particularly in-line with the look that the ANZAC soldiers seemed to have. One of the backup team, then? He remembers the commander's message clearly enough.
If he'd run across him on the battle on the beach a moment before, it's something that will take a little more time to register.
For now:] If they need more, they will find it. Such a desperate situation has made them close; they seem willing enough to share.
[There's a faint edge to Ashitaka's otherwise calm tone: if he reads what the stranger means correctly, he is only faintly disapproving, thinking he could have just as easily asked. Ashitaka hadn't even asked for the cup of wine he holds a bit awkwardly in one hand.]
b, ie it's laced with drugs
He had left behind whatever firearms he could've found in Lone Pine, not because of the lack of ammunition but because they were still useless to him. In a way, the Regency's prison had been a haven: one from the pain of his curse that had been a chronic ache, a medley of twinges and pains from the sound of gunfire and the miasma of human savagery. Back here, it was back in force, and it was always worse when he held a gun.
What he would have done to simply have his bow. Instead he had wielded pieces of debris from the camp, keen eyes being able to catch a blueish aura around his arm as the demon mark compensated for strength he would have otherwise lacked.
If such a strange sight had been seen and commented upon, he had brushed it aside, not wishing to dwell on such things. They could formulate whichever explanations they wished. For now, he wished to move away from all of the people, the cloud of noise and relief and excitement, of cheap wine and hands clapping on shoulders and backs.
When Ashitaka wanders past Ryo he actually does have a cup of wine in hand, thinking dully that someone must have pressed it into his possession when he had been weaving his way through the crowd. He has a relatively low intention to drink it. He pauses, considering tossing it overboard, when he's addressed. The person he sees speaking to him is not one he recognizes, and also not particularly in-line with the look that the ANZAC soldiers seemed to have. One of the backup team, then? He remembers the commander's message clearly enough.
If he'd run across him on the battle on the beach a moment before, it's something that will take a little more time to register.
For now:] If they need more, they will find it. Such a desperate situation has made them close; they seem willing enough to share.
[There's a faint edge to Ashitaka's otherwise calm tone: if he reads what the stranger means correctly, he is only faintly disapproving, thinking he could have just as easily asked. Ashitaka hadn't even asked for the cup of wine he holds a bit awkwardly in one hand.]