Andrew
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FM of Tsenlan
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- RP Date
- YE 42
- RP Location
- Jiyuu, Former UOC
Soliloquy of a Fallen Prince - Paint Me
The tropical warmth seemed absent from the night like the soft warm comfortable blanket had been ripped off what was usually so comfortable. Most would have found relief in it, but Tio only found it a reminder of emptiness; a dark cloud that choked out light and only left the void. He sat on the dock, a decorative oil lamp rested on the crates that were stacked next to him. He wrote, he looked up and watched the lights of Tokyo in the distance, then would write again.
We did it.
They are free. They are home.
They are here, we do not fear, and no longer waiting...
I don't expect anyone to ever understand me, not even you. I don't even know why I am writing this, it is not like you will ever read it. Maybe that is why I am writing it.
You see, a lot has been said and assumed. I've heard it all, every rumor and every account of what I did. To some, I am the enemy. I am a traitor. That is a story that seems to have two sides, the one being that I am a traitor to Yamatai, a coward because I left and I supported and the formation of the Colonies. I fought the oppression of the Imperial hand and I left my mother in ruin because of it. It wouldn't surprise me if this is what she thinks, the only thinking that keeps me alive or out of a jail is probably Eidan or the help I can be in bringing those still misguidedly fighting for the freedom to justice.
We left, I left. We stood up and we declared our neutrality and we gave birth to a nation built upon the rights of its people and we loved them. It all started so perfectly. What we did not just change and shape the colonies; it changed Yamatai too. It made the Imperial House realize that it had to release that grip from around the throats of their people; it gave them rights, it gave them freedom. It changed how they interacted with the rest of the nations they encountered. It gave them change....maybe too much change.
I mean, after all, we enabled the rise of a tyrant. I don't believe for a minute the Tange ever believed in what I stood for, what you stood for even. Kiyoko and the Tange represent cruelty in this universe that is perverse to the very foundations of civilization. Our citizens that have failed to come back to the protection of the Empire, that work for her are used as tools to plot revenge and now they mingle with an enemy far worse than anything the NMX could have ever been. I spent years in her prison, punished because I would not justify her murderous ways or tell her where I hid Eidan. I refuse for my son to be a weapon. Now I am a traitor to her, to the remains of those who support the banner of the United Outer Colonies. A traitor of Yamatai, and now a Traitor to the UOC.
I am sitting on a dock at Jiyuu-jo. The night is beautiful and the smell of flowers from the garden drifts upon the wind to me as I watch the glistening lights of Tokyo. A Tokyo under the flag of Yamatai, a colony run by the Motoyoshi and not by the Tange. The worlds are taken care of, and for as much as it has all changed since Melisson punished us; it lays within the path of a new evil, one which seeks to profit off it's undoing and the fall of every pillar of change it represents. It is a path Kiyoko and the Tange are happy to pave. I wish I never helped bring her back! I wish I would have had the Tange pulled from their comfortable thrones and tossed them behind bars for what they have done!
So paint my picture, paint me as a traitor. Don't forget to paint the truth to go with it. Eidan may have grown up this far without us, but without us is what brought him peace until the storm I am returned to him and his life.
Paint the broken heart of a Prince. A shattered crown, a shameful son. A man of regret.
Tio read the words he had written a second time. He looked out over the water again and released a heavy sigh. He shuffled to his feet and he ripped the pages he had written from the notebook and touched their edges to the flame of the oil lantern. He gripped them until the last moment when he could no longer accept the flames that licked upon his hands, the ashes drifted over the water and the embers that remained after they feel extinguished in the water below.
The tropical warmth seemed absent from the night like the soft warm comfortable blanket had been ripped off what was usually so comfortable. Most would have found relief in it, but Tio only found it a reminder of emptiness; a dark cloud that choked out light and only left the void. He sat on the dock, a decorative oil lamp rested on the crates that were stacked next to him. He wrote, he looked up and watched the lights of Tokyo in the distance, then would write again.
We did it.
They are free. They are home.
They are here, we do not fear, and no longer waiting...
I don't expect anyone to ever understand me, not even you. I don't even know why I am writing this, it is not like you will ever read it. Maybe that is why I am writing it.
You see, a lot has been said and assumed. I've heard it all, every rumor and every account of what I did. To some, I am the enemy. I am a traitor. That is a story that seems to have two sides, the one being that I am a traitor to Yamatai, a coward because I left and I supported and the formation of the Colonies. I fought the oppression of the Imperial hand and I left my mother in ruin because of it. It wouldn't surprise me if this is what she thinks, the only thinking that keeps me alive or out of a jail is probably Eidan or the help I can be in bringing those still misguidedly fighting for the freedom to justice.
We left, I left. We stood up and we declared our neutrality and we gave birth to a nation built upon the rights of its people and we loved them. It all started so perfectly. What we did not just change and shape the colonies; it changed Yamatai too. It made the Imperial House realize that it had to release that grip from around the throats of their people; it gave them rights, it gave them freedom. It changed how they interacted with the rest of the nations they encountered. It gave them change....maybe too much change.
I mean, after all, we enabled the rise of a tyrant. I don't believe for a minute the Tange ever believed in what I stood for, what you stood for even. Kiyoko and the Tange represent cruelty in this universe that is perverse to the very foundations of civilization. Our citizens that have failed to come back to the protection of the Empire, that work for her are used as tools to plot revenge and now they mingle with an enemy far worse than anything the NMX could have ever been. I spent years in her prison, punished because I would not justify her murderous ways or tell her where I hid Eidan. I refuse for my son to be a weapon. Now I am a traitor to her, to the remains of those who support the banner of the United Outer Colonies. A traitor of Yamatai, and now a Traitor to the UOC.
I am sitting on a dock at Jiyuu-jo. The night is beautiful and the smell of flowers from the garden drifts upon the wind to me as I watch the glistening lights of Tokyo. A Tokyo under the flag of Yamatai, a colony run by the Motoyoshi and not by the Tange. The worlds are taken care of, and for as much as it has all changed since Melisson punished us; it lays within the path of a new evil, one which seeks to profit off it's undoing and the fall of every pillar of change it represents. It is a path Kiyoko and the Tange are happy to pave. I wish I never helped bring her back! I wish I would have had the Tange pulled from their comfortable thrones and tossed them behind bars for what they have done!
So paint my picture, paint me as a traitor. Don't forget to paint the truth to go with it. Eidan may have grown up this far without us, but without us is what brought him peace until the storm I am returned to him and his life.
Paint the broken heart of a Prince. A shattered crown, a shameful son. A man of regret.
Tio read the words he had written a second time. He looked out over the water again and released a heavy sigh. He shuffled to his feet and he ripped the pages he had written from the notebook and touched their edges to the flame of the oil lantern. He gripped them until the last moment when he could no longer accept the flames that licked upon his hands, the ashes drifted over the water and the embers that remained after they feel extinguished in the water below.
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