deercountry | i once knew a man who learned such a thing

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i once knew a man who learned such a thing | october catch-all

Who: Jin Guangyao + select closed prompts + OTA
What: Settling in; an encounter with a draugr; trying to locate some much needed chill; continuing a TDM thread.
When: /waves hands, throughout the month.
Where: Willful Machine, along a nondescript thoroughfare and by the canals; the Pale Sanctuary in Cassandra; the Boardwalk
Notes: If you're keen on threading something, hit me up on plurk @ ragweed and we can figure something out.

Content Warnings: Blood, gore. Allusions to memories of a murder victim. Frank discussion of a child's murder (his son).

I. Cleaning house. (OTA)
The siheyuan has good bones. Whoever built it understood the importance of craftsmanship, though whether there is any prosperous energy in Trench for a south-facing house to welcome is anyone's guess. But someone had lived here before, once; there are height marks scratched into the wood of a door frame, seven of them, one for each birthday celebrated by a child. When Jin Guangyao first notices the marks while affixing spirit-repelling talismans to the walls in auspicious locations, he very deliberately does not think of his son.

With the talismans in place within the courtyard and the rooms themselves, he steps outside and onto the thoroughfare sidewalk to affix a few of them to the gate. Trailing behind him is his omen, a lean steppe fox whose winter coat has already begun to come in.

II. Second Death at the Canals. (Closed to Sasuke)
OOC note: Timing of this event is sometime after JGY snags himself an address, and finishes up his conversation with Mike Enslin (see below).

It is late in the evening, well after what passes for dusk in Trench, when the screams rip through the air near the canals. What follows is an immediate mad scramble of bodies and limbs of all shapes to escape the scene unfolding by the water's edge, where a draugr has pinned a man in pale gold robes to the ground by his throat.

Right now, only two things separate Jin Guangyao from death: the first is the blade of his spiritual sword, Hensheng, which he has thrust through the draugr's throat and embedded in what passes for its spine, and which in combination with his faltering spiritual power serves only to keep the monster's still-gnashing jaws from descending upon him. The other is his omen, who has transformed herself into the menacing shape of a large huli jing, and is harrying the draugr with ear-splitting fox-bark screams and yodels that keep the thing distracted, but not deterred. Every so often it swipes ineffectually out at her with the hand not at its quarry's throat, before she lunges away.

The draugr has taken much from Jin Guangyao over the course of the last month to the point where his outrage and fury over the theft of his memories is only overwhelmed by the sheer terror he experiences when the monster at last manifests itself and forces him to look at its face (and forces him to remember a face he wishes he could forget, dead but still seeing him, still hating him, still suspecting his every decision, hesitation or sideways glance--)

Ichor from the gaping throat wound above him splatters down towards him. Jin Guangyao jerks his face away and grits his teeth, and twists beneath the monster's bulk to edge a foot against its stomach--not because he thinks that he has the power to actually kick the thing away, but because any barrier he can put between the draugr's teeth and himself is better than nothing. Still, this is a grim situation, and his eyes dart about himself in terror and outrage as he desperately tries to come up with an escape plan.

III. Exploring near the Pale Sanctuary. (OTA)

The pale, bloated tree at the heart of the Pale Sanctuary does not look like it should be a place of spiritual tranquility. Jin Guangyao stands slightly out of its shadow and considers it in silence, being sure always to keep his expression as inoffensive and absent of any outside judgment as possible. The thing alarms him, there's just no getting around it, and hearing the murmurs among the nearby Disciples regarding just who this entire district was named for strikes him as doubly inauspicious. No one in the cultivation world would think to name a place of spiritual sanctuary and healing after the Yiling Patriarch, surely.

He doesn't venture near the door that leads down into the sanctuary itself--that's a big 'nope, no thank you, not interested' at least for the moment--and instead takes his time walking the circumference of the tree, being sure to give it as wide a berth as possible as he looks it over in detail, committing what he sees to memory.

IV. Encounter on the Boardwalk. (Closed to Mike Enslin)
[continued from here!]

'Napkin guy.' That's a new one. It's much better than his last nickname. Jin Guangyao's expression softens by a hair's breadth of a margin, and though he doesn't smile--that particular mask wouldn't be appropriate, not now--he makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. Then, "Thank you," the stranger says, and Jin Guangyao bends his head in wordless acknowledgement of the courtesy.

As for the rest--

"Yes," he replies. He looks away from Mike to allow him the courtesy of tidying himself without a scrutinizing audience. There is so very much else happening on the boardwalk to draw the eye anyway; the masks, the lights, the myriad of different beings and bodies that are as alien to him as that tape recorder, if more frightening. When one being makes sustained eye contact with him for too long, Jin Guangyao is quick to avert his gaze in as non-threatening a manner as he can manage, and turns his attention back to Mike.

"Xiansheng, please forgive this one's lapse in manners. I am called Jin Guangyao." Just in case the stranger felt so inclined to actually refer to him as 'napkin guy,' henceforth.

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Well this is certainly irregular.

"Shen-gongzi--" Jin Guangyao begins, startled, but before he has a chance to finish the incomplete thought, he finds himself at least partly captured in the affectionate loop of Shen Yuan's arms. His eyes, which were already quite wide, having noticed the ears protruding through his hair and the tails that flick with a life of their own, widen further at the unexpected contact, but he doesn't pull himself free. (It's too late for that, he's been caught, and that would be rude.)

He tries instead to reach for a smile, but it doesn't quite happen, because this is too bloody peculiar to be brushed off. "No, Shen-gongzi," he tries instead, "I wasn't waiting long, but..." He can't stop staring at the ears. "...those are very life-like."

"Mm? What's life-like, gege?" Before Jin Guangyao can answer, Shen Yuan spots something over his head that makes him gasp out loud in delight, his ears perking up like two fluffy exclamation points. "Is that a beer vendor?" he gasps, delighted by the novelty and sheer good timing of it all, finding someone selling alcohol in the middle of a public festival. "Gege, gege, let's get drinks! Let's get crunk!"

And then he's bodily dragging Jin Guangyao over to the booth with the beer before he can comment or protest. The vendor doesn't seem to see anything especially alarming about the ears, at least. Her eyes widen as she looks Shen Yuan up and down, but she doesn't choose to comment as he orders beer for them both -- at least not out loud. The look she throws Jin Guangyao's way is sympathetic, in an amused kind of way.

The beer comes in red wax-treated paper cups; a fact that Shen Yuan seems to find hysterically funny for some reason. "Solo cups!" he yelps with delight. "Oh my god, gege, it's like we're in an American college movie! Drink up, drink up!"

"Wait, shidi--" he begins to protest, the endearment slipping out before he even has the chance to second guess himself, but Shen Yuan and all of the unbridled enthusiasm emanating from those fox ears and a frankly alarming quantity of tails has already begun dragging him across the parade grounds.

He staggers a step or two once they reach the beer stall and reaches up hastily to ensure his hat hasn't been knocked askew and, once certain he still looks presentable, begins to thank the vendor. And he gets about as far as, "Thank you," before Shen Yuan's effusive delight over the serving cups bubbles up out of him in the form of a fox-bark yelp of delight.

"Yes, yes, all right," he assures him, gives the contents of the flimsy cup a suspicious sniff, and takes a sip of it. He immediately pulls a face and decides, "I don't think I enjoy crunk." That's what is in the cup, right?

Honestly the beer is a little shitty, but not so bad that the taste stops Shen Yuan from busting out with giggles at the look on Jin-gege's face. He's so confused! And Shen Yuan guesses it's maybe a little out of character for him to be this effusive, but he's just so happy! It's a beautiful day! There's a parade! He's hanging out with his new bestest best friend in the whole wide world! ⋆˙⟡♡˚ʚ♡ɞ˚✧･ﾟ

"I'm not sure anyone really likes crunk," he says cheerfully, taking Jin Guangyao by the arm again and leading him away from the booth, on the look-out for some comfy place they can sit together. "It's less a goal you strive for and more the place you end up after having too much fun. With alcohol!" he adds, tilting his head back to drink more of his beer.

It would be the height of filial impiety for him to even imply that his venerable father Jin Guangshan might enjoy the crunk lifestyle a little too much, but it is also near enough to one the Ten Abominations for him to actively contemplate patricide, which he does daily. So he decides to let this one thought crime slide without stewing in a mire of shame over it.

"Is it different from merely being drunk?" he asks seriously as he follows Shen Yuan's lead through the crowd, and does his very best to ensure that his companion's sprightly gait and non-stop chatter don't result in them bumping into anyone who looks like bad news. He makes appropriate, contrite apologies mostly with his eyes and smile where necessary, and, when he spots a bench on a slight incline that looks like it might have a decent view of the parade route, he coaxes Shen Yuan in that direction.

"Here, Shen-gongzi," he suggests once they reach the bench, his arm still linked with Shen Yuan's, "this should give us a nice view, don't you think?" And they will be far less likely to spill their drinks on themselves, or irate strangers, if they sit down.

"Hm..." Thoroughly distracted by the question, Shen Yuan allows Jin-ge to steer him over to a bench and arrange them both on top of it, his tales curling around Jin-ge's waist as the two of them sit next to each other.

"You know, I'm really not sure?" he finally says. "It's an American word, and who knows what they're ever talking about. Oh man," he realizes with a laugh. "You don't even have Americans in your world, do you? You're so lucky, gege," he sighs. "They're so fucking annoying on the internet, it's ridiculous."

He finishes his beer with a happy little sound and then seemingly settles in to enjoy the view -- it really is a nice view, gege picked well -- before suddenly sitting up with another quiet gasp. "Gege!" he exclaims, eyes sparkling. "Did you call me 'shidi' earlier??" When Jin Guangyao's arm suddenly goes stiff against his he laughs and nudges the other man in the shoulder, saying, "That's so cute! I like it, I almost never got to be shidi in my last world. It was always 'Shen-shixiong this' and 'Shen-shixiong that', and 'Shen-shixiong, what do you mean you snuck out to harvest Six-Petaled Sucker Flowers under the full moon by yourself??'" He giggles again, reaching for Jin-ge's nearest hand to play with the hem of his sleeve. "Say it again, gege? Please?"

Leaving aside the fox tails that have ensorcelled his waist and the ears that are angled towards him with precise focus for the moment, this is definitely the most demonstrably affectionate that anyone has ever been with Jin Guangyao outside of his marriage to Qin Su or (if he was feeling particularly dramatic and self-pitying after Nie Mingjue's relentless martial training exercises) Nie Huaisang. And this is certainly the first time a man (!!) has ever been so brazen as to drape themselves across him--in public!--and to play with the hem of his sleeve like some doe-eyed coquette.

His courtly sensibilities have been so thoroughly challenged by this outrageous display, in fact, that he by-passes shock and embarrassment completely and settles firmly in the land of the absurd and surreal. Which this is, most assuredly.

"Shidi," he says, but not to indulge him: it is the beginning of a question, "what magic have you used to give yourself fox ears and three tails?" Already he is beginning to fit together some of these puzzle pieces, and they are forming a very particular shape in his mind. Fox ears, the tails. Huli jing? He very gently takes hold of his friend's hand and, politely as you please, removes it from his sleeve, and replaces it back in his own lap, like taking a baby's hand away from an open flame before they burn themselves because they don't know what they're doing.

"Eh? What magic, what tails?" Shen Yuan is still happily wiggling a little at the indulgence -- and it is an indulgence, he asked Jin-ge to do something and he did it, what's not indulgent about that? --when the question lands, making him tilt his head in confusion. The way his ears swizzle slightly to keep facing Jin Guangyao is adorable, and makes him look more foxlike than ever.

"It's just a mask gege, don't be so serious," he playfully scolds, taking his hands back so he can reach for the edge of the mask -- and missing. He blinks in confusion and tries again.

There's. Nothing there? But he distinctly remembers putting it on, when did it fall off?

Jin-ge is looking at him expectantly, and so concerned? But why? On a hunch Shen Yuan slides his hands over to his temples, and then into his hair -- and up, up, up, to the crown of his head.

"Gege," he says, stunned and surprised. "I have fox ears."

"Yes," Jin Guangyao agrees sympathetically, "you do." He decides to endure the tails that remain curled around his waist until Shen Yuan recognizes what he is doing and removes them himself, just to spare his friend further embarrassment; he's going to feel badly enough once he returns to his senses.

He examines the fox ears with interest and contains the impulse to reach up and touch one. (They are extremely fluffy, though.) "Shidi said he thought he was wearing a mask?" he prompts Shen Yuan, hoping that through getting him to delve a bit more deeply into that topic, they might be able to unravel this mystery together.

"I was wearing a mask." With Shen Yuan still distracted, his tails wrap closer and tighter around gege's waist, instinctively seeking comfort from the one person in this conversation who still has his head screwed on straight (this is called dramatic irony). "I remember buying it and putting it on, just before we met up. Maybe it was enchanted...?"

Despite -- or no doubt because of -- the fact that he's apparently been tricked into putting on an enchanted mask and transforming into a fox spirit, Shen Yuan doesn't seem especially upset by these revelations. Surprised and confused, sure, but not upset. It is, after all, a festival mask, and he's still in the company of his new, dear friend. Shen Yuan smiles slowly, turning bashful, while his tails (seemingly still without his conscious knowledge) let go of Jin-gege's waist and fan out behind him, like a reverse fan. Displaying rather than hiding his face.

"I'm troubling gege," he says sadly. And teasingly. He contains multitudes.

Jin Guangyao is learning all about Shen Yuan's multitudes this afternoon, in great detail, whether he wants to or not--and whether Shen Yuan wishes him to, or not. That's the true heart of the dismay that remains writ into Jin Guangyao's expression, and it only grows more pronounced as Shen Yuan's flirtatious behaviour intensifies: his very new friend is under the influence of something, is making a very public spectacle of himself (albeit an endearing one), and there is no gracious way for Jin Guangyao to extricate himself from the situation without subjecting him to further embarrassment.

At least he could gently scold Huaisang when he was at his most theatrical and melodramatic, even at cultivation conferences. But even Huaisang, consummate feather-head that he is, knew not to approach this particular line.

"Jin Guangyao is troubled for shidi," he corrects as kindly as he can manage, given his burning ears and discomfort with such overtures with so many eyes on them. He carefully sets aside his crunk--beer--whatever--and unfolds himself from where he'd been sitting on the bench. "Let's go find this mask seller and speak with them about the nature of the enchantment on your mask."

"Oh, okaaaaay," Shen Yuan sighs, holding his hand out for Jin-ge to help him up. Not because he actually needs the help, but so he can keep hold of gege's hand afterwards and tuck it securely into the crook of his arm when they start walking. He's so clever like that ;3

"Gege really shouldn't be troubled at all, though," he says demurely as the two of them walk side-by-side. "This one feels fine. Better than, even." He even sounds like he sincerely believes.

The mask vendor, unfortunately, is clearly not feeling fine at all once he catches sight of the two of them. "Oh no," he groans, raising his hands so they're both clearly in view. "Look man," he addresses Jin Guangyao, "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend, but I didn't have anything to do with it. My kids and I stayed up all night making these masks, none of us know jackshit about magic. I don't know why this is happening, I swear."

He sounds pretty upset about it. Is Jin Guangyao going to question him further?

Yeah, he kind of is.

"Xiansheng, please be at ease," Jin Guangyao insists ever so kindly. "This one intends no offense; we only wish to ask a few questions."

He deploys his most genial and reassuring of smiles from his arsenal of expressions intended to soothe agitated nerves and placate fractious tempers, and accompanies it with a precise tilt of his head. He allows Shen Yuan to keep hold of his arm, because surely two friends standing arm-in-arm before this vendor can't be in the mood to pick a fight, can they? (If it has the added benefit of ensuring the huli jing temperament in the mask can't convince Shen Yuan to trot off and get into further trouble, well, all the better.)

The anxiety that the vendor had displayed at their approach speaks volumes all on its own, however. "Has this--" and he gestures discreetly to Shen Yuan's ears (certainly not his tails), "--happened to other masks sold from your stall?"

The man with the strange hat's polite demeanor at least soothes the mask-seller to the extent that he's not longer preparing himself to get his ass beaten on sight. He relaxes a fraction, letting his hands rest on the counter of his little hand-made booth instead of keeping them up in the air. "Your friend's the third person to change after buying one of my masks," he says mournfully. Shen Yuan looks up at hearing himself referred to and smiles at the mask seller before returning to his prior occupation of playing with the hem of Jin-ge's sleeve.

"I've also heard about it from the other people selling masks right now," he says. "It only happens to you Sleepers, but aside from that it seems pretty much random which masks cause a change. None of us did anything to cause it, we're not crazy or stupid enough to piss you people off. It's just --" he shrugs illustratively. "One of those crazy Trench things, I guess?"

He looks scared, but not shifty. More of a man worried about being punished for something he didn't even do than one trying to evade his just desserts, perhaps?

Jin Guangyao gives Shen Yuan the mildest of reproving glances for continuing to fiddle with his sleeve--please don't fray the silk, shidi, such materials are not easy to come by in Trench--but his attention is still largely on the vendor. It pleases him to see the signs of tension easing from the stranger's body language; Jin Guangyao tries to make his expression more agreeable, conciliatory, in response.

"This one can only imagine all of the troubles such a situation has brought you," he sympathizes with all of the manufactured sincerity he can muster, without veering too close to obsequiousness. It's a balancing act. He allows his eyes to widen just a fraction more, curious. "Xiansheng, do you know if there is remedy to my friend's affliction?" Anticipating his refusal or continued insistance that he knows nothing, nothing at all, he smiles again warmly and adds, "This one would be most appreciative of any aid you could offer. Even a rumour shared amongst your fellow vendors of a possible solution would be more than we have right now and, as you can imagine, would be of great value to us."

A little lift of his eyebrows, a hapless gesture with his free hand. "We would be in your debt." That's not a bad thing to have from a pair of Sleepers, particularly a pair of cultivators in a land besieged by evil energy, is it?

The mask seller hesitantly smiles back, taken in by the Sleeper's gentle demeanor. This has been really hard on him too, even though he's not the one transforming! He's got kids to feed, after all, and it's already almost winter. Selling these masks was supposed to triple his nest egg for the season, and instead he's had to deal with all this drama and suspicion. "My buddy Lydia over in Gaze said some Sleepers told her drinking another Sleeper's blood would fix it," he says easily. "But the blood's gotta come from a Sleeper who's never donated before, 'virgin' blood if you know what I mean? And it kind of takes a lot to be effective, somewhere between a couple cups and a pint?"

Shen Yuan sputters, finally taking an interest in the conversation. "A whole pint??" he squawks, before pulling away half a step so he can look Jin Guangyao in the eyes. "Gege, that's way too much!" he says. "You'll hurt yourself."

Jin-ge's been so kind to him this whole time, so sweet and generous. Perhaps it's an error in judgement on Shen Yuan's part to immediately assume Jin Guangyao would be the one donating to turn him back into a human, but that's immediately where his mind goes nonetheless.

It is really quite sweet of Shen Yuan to believe that this would be Jin Guangyao's first instinct, and says much about how kind and generous Shen Yuan believes his new friend is. Jin Guangyao sees no reason to correct him, or to confess that he was actually running through his mental inventory of known newcomers to Trench to determine which ones he might be able to most easily convince to part with a pint of their blood for Shen Yuan's benefit. (Or, if push comes to shove and the alternative is that Shen Yuan becomes consumed by the huli jing's spirit, overpower them to obtain it. It's not the most unpalatable thing he's ever done for a friend. Besides, most Sleepers could part with a pint of blood and survive. Probably.)

The vendor receives a gracious nod of his head and his most grateful smile. "Thank you, xiansheng, for your assistance," he says and removes a small piece of card stock from his qiankun bag, which he then lays down on the vendor's counter; it provides his name and preferred method of contact, as well as his particular cultivation capabilities, should he and his family need help from someone adept at dispatching resentful energies. "We are in your debt."

And then he must deal with Shen Yuan, and so he sighs and turns to face his friend again. He frowns, visibly troubled. "Well if you will not accept a donation of blood from me," he replies, happy not to provide any clarification on where his donation would come from, "then where do you propose we find one? Shidi," he goes on, and the concern in his expression is clear, sincere, "you haven't been harmed by this magic yet, but we know nothing about it beyond what you've experienced so far. What happens if these changes become permanent? What if they become dangerous?"

Shen Yuan pouts. He sticks his lower lip out as far it will go, stomps his foot, and finally grabs Jin Guangyao by the arm to pull him away, out of the mask-seller's hearing. Transforming into a huli jing might have smashed most of the walls he keeps around his latent homosexuality into so much glitter and dust, but even like this he still has a few boundaries and arguing with a friend in front of a stranger is right out.

"Why are you so sure I need to be changed back?" he says, sulky and offended. "Have I given any sign that I'm in danger? Weren't you listening to me before? I feel fine! In fact, I like myself like this --" A strange look suddenly came under Shen Yuan's face, realization that rapidly melted into offense.

"Or is it that you don't like me anymore?" he hissed. "Am I making you uncomfortable, shixiong?"

Something shutters behind Jin Guangyao's eyes and expression as Shen Yuan changes tactics. He hasn't lost his concern or his worry, but he retracts both swiftly behind the armour of a neutral stare. He takes a breath. He lets it out.

"I have not known you long," he concedes carefully, "but I think I have come to know you well. And you are not yourself right now, Shen-di. But if you do not want my help, then--" he spreads his hands, then lets them rest at his sides, "--I will not force it upon you."

"Oh have you?" Shen Yuan pulls his fan out of his sleeve, opening it with a brusque snap of his wrist. With the lower half of his face concealed, he glares at Jin Guangyao over its edge, adding, "You may think you know me, shixiong, but I am not so convinced. And since you seem unable to appreciate me as I am right now, I think my time will be better spent finding people who can. Good day, shixiong."

And with a final huff he turns on his heel and departs, the swing of his three fox tails adding an extra flounce to a reaction that was already over the top.

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i once knew a man who learned such a thing | october catch-all

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runtime error! program c:\trench\comphet\jinguangyao.exe

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