Difference between revisions of "User:Démiurge"
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| + | C/C |
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| − | “So yeah… Til somehow managed to successfully run from Jibril, so we’re looking for her.” |
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| − | “…Anyone…have an, idea…where she…might be?” |
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| − | |||
| − | “……………………Errr… Why, you can’t be serious?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Yes—to run from Jibril, despite Jibril chasing at full speed… She was truly an epic gamer to beat such a punishing game. Fiel couldn’t believe her long ears when she heard Sora and Shiro ask where Til was. Just how did one run from a Flügel, who could shift position at will? Fiel was dumbstruck, which was of no concern to Jibril. |
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| − | |||
| − | “… I do apologize, my masters. I have made an inexcusable lapse… I should have anticipated it.” |
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| − | |||
| − | Jibril was hanging her head, her fists and voice similarly trembling. She wept as she expressed her contrition. |
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| − | |||
| − | “I cannot follow her to the afterlife! I did not intend to drive her to such…! Now I have allowed your precious resource for spirit arms to escape and obstructed your victory… H-how can I ever atone for this…?” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Yeah, you’re jibbing up what to apologize for as always… And by the way, she’s not dead” |
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| − | |||
| − | I—I think… No, definitely! Sora reassured himself as he thought back two days. Yes…when the self-described grubby little mole…the flightless bird had flown— |
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| − | |||
| − | “I—I should have known—I don’t have any home at all, I dooooon’t!” |
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| − | |||
| − | As Jibril gave chase, Til cried out, and light poured from her hammer. The end of the hammer struck the ground, and the next moment—Til flew… |
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| − | Yes…she truly flew… Flew, or rather… Well—- |
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| − | |||
| − | Got blown away… |
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| − | The blast shook the capital… She left nothing behind but that great explosion and the remnants of her totaled hammer. Not even a trace of spirits-- |
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| − | |||
| − | “That wasn’t an act of self-destruction… Til wouldn’t do something like that.” |
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| − | |||
| − | “…Which means…mission successful… She gets…the platinum trophy…” |
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| − | |||
| − | Jibril was sure she was dead, while Sora and Shiro only became even more sure that she was alive Which necessarily also backed up a certain conjecture they had—but leaving that aside, they’d known from the start that Fiel wouldn’t know. If even Jibril had concluded there was no trace of her spirits—then she wasn’t in the capital anymore |
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| − | |||
| − | “So that’s why we’ve been asking around, you know. For someone who might have some idea where she went…” |
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| − | |||
| − | And that’s what had brought them here Looking from the control room, they figured they’d ask the Dwarves down there building the “humanoid machine”—but first, Sora squinted back at the Elf girl sitting on a chair. |
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| − | |||
| − | Fiel was capable of using seal rites, in the Elven style, at least. So she was able to take up Veig on his promise, borrow materials and personnel, and give the staff design drawings for seal rites and have them build a unit accordingly. |
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| − | |||
| − | …The thing was, the personnel seemed a little too loyal. Sora brought up a salient example. |
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| − | |||
| − | “…Maybe I should ask first whether I can ask questions—say, to that chair for now?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora pointed to the Dwarf on whom Fiel was leisurely sitting, her legs crossed. |
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| − | |||
| − | “16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET)16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET)! ~~, ~~!” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Mmm? Why, Mr. Chair…who permitted you to speaaak?~❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | The chair spoke what probably was Dwarven. Sora and Shiro didn’t understand, but they winced to see Fiel kick her underling. It was true Veig had said he would lend them personnel—make them help in other words, but… |
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| − | |||
| − | “Isn’t that…past the bounds of asking for help?” |
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| − | |||
| − | …he hadn’t said he’d give them to them, had he? And hey, she just kicked the Dwarf. Wasn’t that against the Covenants? |
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| − | |||
| − | “Asking for help? Me, of these moles? Why, your jokes are so haaarsh.~❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | Fiel answered with a smile as bright as the midday sun—the scorching desert sun. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Why, this thing licked the floor and swore by the Covenants, ‘I’ll do anything to make up to you my sin in being born, Lady Fiel.’ So I just haaad to allowww him to help Look at him choke on his tears of joy. 🎵” |
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| − | |||
| − | She again dug her heel into the chair who was crying, reportedly, for joy. |
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| − | |||
| − | Loosely translated: I used a game to make him pledge himself into bondage |
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| − | |||
| − | Uh, okay, that was pretty messed up, but if it was a game then it was the Dwarf’s fault for losing. And it did have the advantage that this way she could force the Dwarves to apply their crafting sensibility in a loyal fashion. Only Dwarves could process the material for spirit arms, but the Dwarves couldn’t be trusted—it made sense. On the other hand, not to disparage Fiel, but would it really be so easy to sucker those savvy Dwarves? |
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| − | |||
| − | “—Why, it was simple…for the twooo of us.❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora’s confusion was ultimately dispelled not by Fiel… |
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| − | |||
| − | —Clack, clack… |
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| − | |||
| − | “…? Ohh, if it isn’t Sora… I haven’t seen you in two days… Heh-heh…” |
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| − | |||
| − | …but by Chlammy, whose heels shrilly echoed as she entered. Or to be more precise— |
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| − | |||
| − | “You’re here to observe the work—is that your excuse? Whatever you say, I know what you’re really here for. Very well. If you get on your hands and knees and beg, I’ll be nice and let you look at least… Mwah!❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | —by the hip-swaying, Marilyn Monroe–inspired strut of the fake-boobed abomination blowing a kiss. |
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| − | …She’s this uppity just from getting big boobs… |
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| − | |||
| − | Contemplating the factors that would lead to this reaction, Sora almost cried. Conversely… |
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| − | |||
| − | “…B-Brother… Can having boobs…really give you…that much…confidence…?” |
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| − | |||
| − | —Maybe I shouldn’t have deactivated it, either… Shiro fought back tears of regret. Sora smiled warmly and rubbed her head. |
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| − | |||
| − | <image> |
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| − | |||
| − | “So, Chlammy. Can you do—that thing?” |
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| − | |||
| − | He took out his phone. |
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| − | …But that was all he did. He didn’t even hold it out to her. However, Chlammy grinned imperiously, snatched it from his hand—and, without hesitation, with a once-in-a-century, shit-eating grin—placed the phone on top of her bust… |
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| − | |||
| − | “You see, my sister? Nothing has changed. Her confidence is as fake as her tits.” |
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| − | “Wh-whaaat? The way I remember from your memory, if you ask someone with big boobs if they can do ‘it,’ you’re referring to this, right?” |
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| − | Sora’s smirk and the snap of Shiro’s camera ripped off any and all pretense instantaneously. |
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| − | “Hfff… Listen well, Queen of Boards.” |
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| − | “—Heh… What is it now, little boy” |
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| − | “Don’t react to that… You do know, don’t you…? Listen.” |
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| − | And as Chlammy scrambled to put her gilded pretense back on, Sora preached the truth. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Someone with big boobs doesn’t assume that ‘that thing’ is specifically something to do with her boobs” |
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| − | |||
| − | “---Gurgh!” |
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| − | |||
| − | “I mean, all I did was take out my phone! You didn’t think I might be trying to take a picture or something? I could have been asking for a sexy pose or any number of other things, right? You didn’t even hesitate! You’re so desperate, I feel bad calling you out. Sorry, okay?” |
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| − | |||
| − | “……I-I’m, sorry…! I kind of, feel like it’s…my fault…!” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Why are you two crying? I mean—it—it’s not like that! A-ahem!” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora’s apology broke the dam on the tears long held back. Shiro and Chlammy both started crying—and then. |
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| − | |||
| − | “—Huff. All right. With magnanimity as deep as my cleavage, I’ll accept your constructive criticism…” |
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| − | |||
| − | As Chlammy assumed the pretense once more, Sora and Shiro thought: I see. It would have been difficult for Fiel to sucker a Dwarf alone. But the two of them —Fiel and Chlammy together— shouldn’t have had any problem. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Before, I was flat-chested… You’re right, there’s no sense in denying the past…” |
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| − | |||
| − | After all, look at Chlammy—sticking out her chest, one hand on her hip, the other flaring out her hair, like a hot babe full of confidence. Just the way a comedian would play it. And she refused to even recognize this. Those discerning Dwarves would surely spot right away that her confidence was as devoid of reality as her chest. And for that very reason— |
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| − | |||
| − | “But a real woman doesn’t let her past drag her down… You see now, kid?” |
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| − | |||
| − | —Sora, watching as Chlammy desperately maintained the seductress act, became all the more sure. |
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| − | All Fiel had to do was make the Dwarves think their opponent was this weirdo to lower their guard and get them into the game. Then if the real player was Fiel—talk about a sucker punch. Sora and Shiro could see how Fiel could have captured swarms of Dwarves easily. |
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| − | |||
| − | “All right… I get it already. Let’s end this sad world where everyone just gets hurt.” |
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| − | “…I accept it… You have…big boobs… Okay?” |
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| − | “Would you stop it with those tender gazes? What did you even come here for, anyway? God!” |
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| − | |||
| − | As Chlammy’s tears reappeared from beneath the gilded veneer, Sora and Shiro left her with their sympathy. Looking back at the Elven girl still sitting on her chair, Sora asked: |
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| − | |||
| − | “Hey, Fiel, do you still think you can steal a march on us to beat Veig?” |
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| − | “Whaaat? …Why, how could you accuse me of such a thing…? I’m so hurrrt.❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | Fiel professed her brokenheartedness with a smile so over the top you could practically feel the sarcasm oozing from it. She continued: |
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| − | |||
| − | “After alll I’ve done to help my friends succeed, my goodness.” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Fine, so you need to save face. Then, okay, if we win, we want to do something for you, as friends. What do you want?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora indirectly asked what Fiel wanted if she won. She must have been asked this by Chlammy many times already, from the uneasy way she listened. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Dooon’t worry. I’m done with seeking death and destruction.” |
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| − | |||
| − | Fiel seemed focused on reassuring Chlammy. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Why, that thing crossed three lines that should never be crossed…” |
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| − | |||
| − | However, her words that followed, with an evil smile, were not very reassuring at all. |
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| − | |||
| − | “I can’t kill him nowww. Why, I must keep him alive ❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | “—By the way, what are those three lines?” |
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| − | “Being booorn…and touching two things he shouldn’t have.🎵” |
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| − | |||
| − | Things he shouldn’t have touched… Sora cast his eyes upon those two things, plump and heaving. It occurred to him that Fiel’s gaze spoke eloquently as to the manner in which she wished to win. |
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| − | —But Sora was surprised that she’d failed to notice that other thing for two whole days. He repeated what he’d said two days ago. |
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| − | |||
| − | “I mean, you have to cooperate with us to beat Veig, so I hope you’ll give this some thought.” |
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| − | |||
| − | “—Whaaat?” |
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| − | |||
| − | He clearly implied that Fiel could not beat Veig by herself. Fiel looked at him to ask what basis he had for his assertion. Sora answered cheerily. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Yeah, look—you’re already relying on Dwarves to build this for you, which proves you can’t do it yourself, right?” |
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| − | |||
| − | “-----” |
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| − | |||
| − | That instant---the atmosphere froze hard enough to crack. |
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| − | |||
| − | “…? Huh, what? What are you talking about?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Chlammy looked quizzically as Fiel winced with displeasure. |
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| − | —Thunk. Fiel’s heel dug into the chair—and an argument began. |
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| − | |||
| − | “[[User:Asukawaii|Asukawaii]] ([[User talk:Asukawaii|talk]]) 16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET), [[User:Asukawaii|Asukawaii]] ([[User talk:Asukawaii|talk]]), [[User:Asukawaii|Asukawaii]] ([[User talk:Asukawaii|talk]]),❤️” |
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| − | |||
| − | “16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET)! [[User:Asukawaii|Asukawaii]] ([[User talk:Asukawaii|talk]]) 16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET)! [[User:Asukawaii|Asukawaii]] ([[User talk:Asukawaii|talk]]) 16:17, 17 December 2021 (CET)” |
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| − | |||
| − | “…That’s Dwarven, right? Jibril, can you interpret?” |
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| − | Beside Sora, the trusty weapon supporting seven hundred languages bowed reverently and answered. |
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| − | “First, the long-ears demanded, ‘Tell me where Til is.’ The chair answered, ‘I really have no idea,’ pleading for its life… Oh, and the long-ears said, ‘Tell me even if you don’t know. I’ll be the judge of whether you have any idea.’ The chair’s will seems to have been broken. image” |
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| − | And so the elderly chair, pathetic tears about to fall, complied with the order to cough up anything and everything, mumbling this and that. |
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| − | “No one can find her now…even the chieftain, who was so fond of her.” |
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| − | Jibril transitioned to simultaneous interpretation, and Sora and Shiro listened sympathetically. |
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| − | “Way back when, she used to chase after the chieftain everywhere, sayin’ she’d surpass him and become his wife—” |
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| − | “…Hooooold up…!” |
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| − | But Jibril was paused by a sudden cry. |
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| − | “…Jibril… Play back, that last part… More, detail…!” |
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| − | Shiro pounced with a horrifying glare, seeming to take even Jibril aback. The Dwarf, confused, replied: |
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| − | “Mm, mrg? The promise they’d marry if she built a better spirit arm than him” |
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| − | Shiro thrust both her arms into the air. Without exceeding her usual whispery volume range, she shouted—Huzzahh! Her pose was so epic you expected big letters to appear behind her. |
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| − | “…Brother, the route’s been set Pairing is complete! …Childhood friends for the win!” |
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| − | Shiro looked like she was hearing UC music in her head. Sora grinned and nodded. |
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| − | “Yeah, even your brother can see that now… No going back from here, all right…” |
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| − | Thinking of those eyes of Til, together with Veig’s intent, they could only say, Oh, yeah… |
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| − | —A promise of marriage in their early days. |
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| − | After which one shrunk away for shame at low specs and failure. They were totally the one true pairing… If they were to say anything about it— |
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| − | “Hrrm. But, Shiro…is uncle x niece okay? ’Specially when the uncle’s a hairy old bastard and the niece looks like a kid… Kinda pushing it, don’t you think? Whether in terms of ethics or optics, it kinda looks like a situation where one would get the police involved, doesn’t it?” |
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| − | “…Brother? It’s not okay…to impose, our views, on other cultures…” |
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| − | “Well, fair enough! But a global commonwealth ought to have a certain amount of cultural exchange, don’t you think?” |
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| − | “…I welcome…the uncle x niece tradition… It benefits me… We should adopt it.” |
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| − | “Oh, Masters. The Dwarf seems to be carrying on without you… What shall I do?” |
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| − | “—Huh? Oh, uh, sorry… Keep interpreting, please.” |
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| − | Sora and Shiro’s worries had slipped past the ending. Jibril bowed once more. |
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| − | “Errr… To summarize—they used to be very close, long ago—” |
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| − | Yeah, so they liked each other. To a pairing level. Sora and Shiro nodded, everything starting to make sense—only to be overturned. |
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| − | “But then it fled.” |
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| − | The cold words of the continuing Dwarf lowered the temperature of their gazes. |
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| − | “It threw away its passion, closed off its possibilities, and became that thing unable to become anything.” |
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| − | “Hmm? You’re quite a proud little thing to be judging others, aren’t ya?” |
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| − | That fluff-face, trembling on all fours under the weight of Fiel’s behind—pretty clever of him to manage to look down at his nose at anybody from that position, Sora thought snarkily. |
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| − | “It ain’t no shame.” |
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| − | The prostrate chair clarified. |
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| − | “It’s just a loss. Why should you be ashamed of the road to the ideal, when it ain’t even your destination? Why should you be afeard?” |
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| − | Free of doubt, the chair looked right at Sora and told him: |
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| − | “Dwarves live to forge. Every victory and every loss is just one more strike of the hammer.” |
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| − | He spoke of the Dwarf race, the way of being of the naturally strong, |
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| − | —Picture your ideal self. To the very limits of your imagination. Then forge it. Don’t be ashamed. Don’t get lost. Don’t break down. Not until you reach that ideal. Once you’re there—then it’s time to realize that those weren’t your limits after all. Time to picture a yet more ideal self and forge it! Without limit, without end! Everything in this world exists to be forged—the self first among all. Keep pounding. Keep grinding. Keep refining. Keep creating the self you imagine—for ever and ever, till the day you die— |
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| − | “That tireless forging lifestyle is itself our one destination as Dwarf, children of the god of the forge.” |
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| − | The corners of the chair-man’s lips, buried in hair, drew up with pride. |
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| − | “It’s true, our chieftain creates things none of us can even imagine. It ain’t gonna be easy to catch up with him.” |
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| − | His eyes likewise buried in silver hair flashed coldly as he continued. |
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| − | “He’s got an unrivaled talent. Might be that, that thing aside, none of us will ever be able to catch up with the chieftain.” |
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| − | Then the Dwarf’s eyes lit up with anger as he spoke. |
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| − | “But it might be that someone can! The only thing that’s closed off that possibility—is that thing fleein’ by itself” |
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| − | —Veig had reached a level of peerless talent no one could reach. But how could you conclude you couldn’t if you didn’t try? the Dwarf asked. Sora thought: |
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| − | —Yeah, his argument’s sound. So sound it’s annoying. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Perhaps you can’t catch up to him. Could be all your forging will never get you there… But if you run and do nothing, of course you’ll never get there.” |
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| − | |||
| − | This indeed, this was why Dwarf was a monster of sensibility. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Whatcha gonna get from runnin’, lookin’ for a reason you can’t get there? You ain’t gonna find victory. |
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| − | You ain’t even gonna find defeat.” |
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| − | |||
| − | In his eyes were the downcast eyes of the black-and-white siblings. |
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| − | |||
| − | “You should be ashamed to run! At that rate, that thing’s only goin’ one place—the dump.” |
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| − | |||
| − | The chair had been consistently referring to Til as a thing. |
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| − | |||
| − | “It’s not even alive anymore… It’s just a—” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Hey, douchebag chair! Sorry to interrupt, but what do you think of this?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora wasn’t about to let him finish. |
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| − | |||
| − | “imageHuh? Uh—wha—what?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Chlammy’s eyes filled with rage as Sora grabbed her arm and thrust her forward. Quite abruptly interrupted indeed, the old Dwarf instantly opened his eyes wide, and— |
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| − | |||
| − | “…Nmm. That’s the chieftain’s work, all right—it’s perfect One of the reasons I’m here lettin’ myself be used as a chair, ain’t it? Gotta say, I’m gettin’ sold on the merits of big—” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Is that so? Then I dismiss everything else you have to say! Have fun as a chair!” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora cut down the Dwarf’s reply with one mighty swing and turned away. |
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| − | |||
| − | “The hell. Race of sensibility, my ass. Veig and this guy, hopeless!” |
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| − | |||
| − | …Yeah, he’d actually realized a long time ago. Look, in the first place, their “Big Papa” had the sense as cataclysmic as Ragnarok to create hairy, bearded girls, you know? What did you expect from his kids? More like nonsense, amirite? |
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| − | |||
| − | “Perfect? If that’s the kind of perfection you’re after, forget the chest; just make her whole body into one big ball. You got it, asshat?” |
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| − | |||
| − | Sora gave the chair a good glare and launched his final barb. |
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| − | |||
| − | “It’s ’cos you’re satisfied with mere perfection that this is where you’re still stuck!” |
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| − | |||
| − | imageSilence. Everyone looked at him to ask what he meant. But, taking no note, Sora tromped off. Shiro scrambled to follow, as did one other. |
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| − | |||
| − | “Jibril, fix the dictionary! Dwarves are the perfect example of the opposite of sensibility! If one of these assholes ever tells you that the world is round, take another look! It’s one hundred percent not round” |
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| − | |||
| − | The logic? It should go without saying. If they were a race that never erred— |
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| − | —If they were also never right, then that made their opinions ideal for reference, didn’t it? |
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| − | |||
| − | “Y-yes, Master! I—I shall amend it at once!” |
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| − | |||
| − | Jibril followed Sora, scribbling in her book, as they left the plant. I’ll give you one proof to start, Sora thought as he sneered. |
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| − | —They said there’s no place for Til, and no one could find her, right? See? imageThey were wrong! |
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| − | |||
| − | “Jibril, I know where Til is now Take us into the air right above the capital!” |
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| − | |||
| − | “Y-yes, Master! I—I shall prepare—p-please wait just a moment!” |
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| − | |||
| − | As he waited as Jibril busily shut her book and prepared a shift— |
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| − | |||
| − | “Hey, Chair. Try using your brain for thinking once in a while, okay? In exchange, I’ll give you a bit of industrial knowledge from another world.” |
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| − | |||
| − | —Sora addressed the dumbstruck Dwarf as if he had a whole bouquet of sarcasm to give him. Grinding? Forging? Ha! He called bullshit on their claim to be a race skilled in manufacturing. |
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| − | |||
| − | “It was very amusing listening to your description of a so-called life based on nothing but effort There’s also welding—” |
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| − | |||
| − | And you might want to know—Sora continued, as he and Shiro left only the afterimage of their middle fingers— |
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| − | |||
| − | “—there’s also casting, which you do after you melt everything down Bet you’ve never heard of that, huh?” |
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| − | |||
| − | —as with Jibril they vanished from the space. |
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<noinclude> |
<noinclude> |
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Revision as of 23:11, 17 December 2021
Chapitre 3 : Formula Front [1] (Généralisation)
Finding no way forward, time passed. The cage closed in on them, until at last... ...the baby bird’s end drew near...
“Let’s leave this cage right now. Break me apart,” the puppet’s trickery claimed. And the cage broke just like that. But the crimson ̄stained puppet’s efforts only earned the words “You liar”... ...along with the baby bird’s tears, and the despair up above. There was no sky in that world.
Beyond the cage they’d broken was yet another cage. These two were one—leaving the chick alone, tricking the baby bird—these two were one. What will I do now that the cage is broken?
The sky was accusing, and yet what else could they have done...?
(Image)
The capital of Hardenfell, full of the sounds of Dwarves at work, as usual. Already two days had gone by since their meeting with Veig. Now, sheets of paper were raining over the underground city. Posted here and there, flying through the air, they showed a photograph of a blushing girl with her suspenders being tugged on, along with the following caption in the Dwarven tongue :
LOST MOLE
Til Age 84 Girl
Smooth as a dolphin
If you see her, contact “ ”, bitches
Partie 1
C/C
Références
| Revenir au Chapitre 2 | Retourner au Sommaire | Passer au Chapitre 4 |
