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deercountry2022-10-07 02:32 pm
poorlittlesange) wrote in deercountry2022-10-07 02:32 pm
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.
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.
no subject
"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?
no subject
"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?"
no subject
"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?
no subject
"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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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?"
no subject
"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?"
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.