[ time to check out the saloon! ochako is, of course, appropriately dressed, even for a teenager who has no business hanging out in a bar. she smiles immediately when she sees xie lian, though, and bounces right over. ]
Hey, hey, Xie Lian-san! [ she’s just always so happy to see him, wow. ] Have you tried the food here yet? Is it good?
[ tuesday has been kind of a rough day for xie lian. he looks a little more tired than usual when ochako bounds up to him, but... like always, he has a smile for her anyway, and he tucks his hand to fist to bow to her in greeting. ]
Good day, Miss Ochako. I have - it's very delicious. Would you like to share a meal with me? I was just thinking of grabbing a little more.
En, I'm fine. It has just already been a long day.
[ xie lian's smile is genuine, though. ochako's cheer is very infectious, and xie lian is so very fond of her! so. he moves to settle down at one of the social distanced tables. ] I think I just need to eat!
[ hmmm, she has a feeling that that's not the whole story, but ochako doesn't press. it's clear that he doesn't want to talk about it, and sometimes, food does help.
so she settles down at the table with him, orders her food, and lets her feet swing from the chair. she could absolutely put them on the ground, but that's no fun. ]
All the places the realm lets us see are pretty crazy, aren't they? I wonder what'll happen here this week, when Wednesday rolls around.
[ she laughs a little. yeah, it is true that xie lian is from one of the older worlds, huh? it must be really crazy for him, then. ]
I dunno. I'm kind of waiting for there to be a big shootout or something, like in the old movies!
[ wouldn't that be fun?! ...well, maybe not, but it would definitely be exciting, and that alone makes her kick her feet a little more. of course, she doesn't notice the bubble that's floated under the table until the saloon starts to fade. (video, 17:12-17:38)
“You want to work for us?”
your hands curl into fists, wrinkling the edges of your sweater. daddy looks down at you with surprise as you nod with tears in your eyes, desperate to be given permission. Maybe not now, but someday...
“When I get big, I’ll help you and Mommy!”
you have the perfect quirk for it, don’t you? as long as you can make anything float, they wouldn’t even need all those big machines to do the work for them - you could do it all on your own. but only once you’ve mastered it - it’s still new, and still a little hard, but you’ll make it work. you have to.
but daddy when smiles, and kneels to pat you on the head, it isn’t with the answer you wanted.
“I appreciate the thought, Ochako.” you bite your lip to try to keep it from trembling. with your heart sinking, it only works so well. “But as your dad, I’d be even happier if you could achieve your dream. When that happens, you can take us to Hawaii!”
“Daddy…” you look down at the floor, unhappy, but unable to find an argument to change his mind. follow her dream... well, she did want to be a hero, but that doesn’t matter when...
when it ends, ochako sits still in her chair, looking stunned. ]
[ xie lian's about to ask her what a big shootout entails, but he gets an entirely different movie, instead!
xie lian has learned a little bit about ochako's family, already. not a lot - but feeling this memory through her suddenly gives him more context. he can feel the emotions - the love she has for her family, that sudden disappointment, and it makes the loss of her own "dream" from the realm feel even sharper. xie lian feels for her, as deeply as he always has.
there's a beat, and he reaches across, to gently put his hand on hers, and give her a small, warm smile, masking the sadness he feels for her loss and instead focusing on the warmest part of it all - that love. ]
You must be very close with your parents, Miss Ochako; what a wonderful honor it must be, to have you as their daughter.
I know we were, but... I can't remember them. Their faces, and their voices... All I remember is that they're why I chose the path I did.
[ they're already fading, so quickly after the memory, leaving only the deep, unsettling knowledge that something very important is gone. there's something else there, too, she thinks, but that, too, is just out of reach.
...i swear i did mean for this to be soft but i literally just remembered that this happened this week fksldjflksdjg ]
oh no. surprise flits across xie lian's face - his heart squeezes tight in his chest, and he does not relinquish his grip on her hand, just feeling a sense of utter heartbreak. of loss. of hurt, for the young of this place, for the thousandth time.
as xie lian squeezes her hands, she forces a smile to her face, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. ]
It's okay. The harder I work with my team, the more likely it is we'll remember things, right? I did remember something a few weeks ago, so maybe... maybe it'll come back.
[ (looks at this from week 6 now) anyway. xie lian smiles at her, reassuring, bridging the gap between her forced one and himself. comforting - that it will be that way.
anyway! as he sits back, xie lian shifts a little in his seat. in doing so, his head tilts - and that cute little bun on the top of his head pops a bubble.
[ the whole world is resting on your shoulders, and this time, it is literal.
you were once standing, but now you sit, your hands raised above you. it has been days, and your hands rest on the intricately carved leg of a statue. it is five meters tall, magnificent, the first true divine statue created for the crown prince who pleased the god, his highness taizi dianxia, the flower crowned martial god. his face is your face, carved in eminence and glory. it is the pride of xian le, that you hold in your hands, and you are holding it because the celestial pagoda that it holds up is crumbling down.
the pagoda is the centerpiece of xian le; the most massive, beautiful building in a beautiful kingdom, full of ancient treasures and beautiful things. full of the history of your family, and connected to every building on the holy martial avenue. if this building collapses, it will bring down residences full of people, the main streets, and the eminence of the royal family of xian le, barely holding on by a thread. you summoned the statue here, from its home in mt. taicang, where you always cultivate, and brought it to hold up the sky. but the symbolic crown prince had cracked, and now, the crown prince holds himself up with trembling hands and draining spiritual energy.
worshippers come by in throngs. you want to beg them to stop, to leave. each person who enters the pagoda to worship to the statue, to sing your praises, is in danger. a terrible earthquake, the drought, the infection - there were more reasons than ever to pray - and you cannot dare let them see for even a moment, that you will crack too. you haven't moved in days. sweat pours down your back, and you force yourself to meditate, to try and stay calm, to not waver even for a moment. you are seventeen years old, and you carry the entire world in your hands.
as the worshippers sing your praises, your mother comes to visit you, and you, for the first time in your young life, want to cry like a child in her arms.
but you don't.
you can't.
xian le is depending on you.
there is a moment when you nearly fade - when you feel your strength starting to fall, and when you look to your left, you see it. a tiny white flower, the shape of a dewdrop, placed among the foolish offerings left by a populace hoping to avoid the death that seemed to be haunting xian le. you remove one single shaking hand from the statue and take it, and grip it in your hand, as tight as you can, bringing it to your heart.
but the peace is broken, a moment later, because you smell blood. a man comes into your field of vision, screaming in agony and desperation. -- "why?! why?!"
to keep yourself from being attacked, you push at the man, who runs directly at you; he screams, and rolls backwards. it gives you enough time to realize that you know this person.
the man is covered in blood. your eyes track down his figure, to the rumbling palace floors behind him. the blood has left a trail as he's crawled his way to the statue, seeping from his one remaining leg, (you are the one who amputated his leg. you had no choice. you had to-- it was the only way to stop it - )
"why," you ask, dumbfounded, horrified, "why are you here?"
the man doesn't answer you. he crawls closer, and shoves his remaining leg in your face, reaching with trembling, bloody hands to lift his pant leg.
staring back at you is a horrifying, twisted face of a human being.
horror strikes you to your core.
it's the human face plague.
the man screams. "why did you cut off my leg?! it still relapsed! my leg's gone! give it back! give it back!"
he is screaming, spitting in your face, and you, panicked, summon up a spell to try and suppress the poison in the young man's veins. "Let me help you--" you start, even if your voice trembles, at first.
and you soothe this young man's pain while you hold the statue, and he looks grateful, but you have no time to ask another question. another voice cries, "Your highness, save me!"
"Your highness!" "Your highness save me!" they rise in pitch, agony, human suffering at a peak, surrounding you on all sides. "your highness, I've cut half of my face off! it's still not healed! why?! just what do we have to do to cure it?!" "your highness! look at me! look at what i've become!"
panic rises in your throat. you hold onto the statue and try to turn your face away, because you can't, you can't look any further, because you know the cure, you know the cure and all of these people are begging you for it but you can't, you can't -- every time you try to cast a spell to ease their pain, ten fall back, and ten more come forward, begging, pleading.
"your highness! me! help me too!" the statue starts to sway in your arms and you beg them to wait.
"no, i don't want to wait! i've waited for too long!"
"your highness, why would you treat him, but not me?!"
"how come when you treated him, his symptoms were as good as new, but mine aren't better? aren't you a god? why are you so unfair! i demand justice!"
you falter. your hands are trembling, "I'm not being unfair, this isn't on me, your symptoms are different--"
"if you're going to help, then help all the way. now you wanna drop everything, what exactly are you playing at? is it up to you?"
panic crawls up your throat, your heart beating fast, faster, "I'm not dropping anything! I just - just wait - "
"DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO CURE THIS DISEASE?"
no, you think, you can't know, you can't. "I-"
"IF YOU KNOW, THEN WHY WON'T YOU TELL US?!"
you want to scream. your spiritual power holds the statue as your hands come free, and you grab your head and bury your fingers in your hair - "I don't know anything!"
"YOU'RE LYING!" a voice accuses, "I ALREADY HEARD SOMEONE TALKING, YOU KNEW! I'VE SEEN THROUGH YOU! YOU WON'T TELL US BECAUSE YOU JUST WANT US TO KEEP BEGGING YOU LIKE THIS, SO YOU CAN STEAL OUR DONATION MONEY! YOU'RE A LIAR!"
"WHAT'S THE CURE?! TELL US! TELL US NOW!
someone grabs you around the throat, tightening, the oxygen in your lungs squeezed and squeezed to nothing. another hand grabs your shirt, your clothes, your sweat soaked robes, your hair, anything they can get their hands on, as the mob descends upon you. your vision is full of mutilated, bloody faces, begging, screaming, their intent nothing but murderous, and you, former god of heaven, the crown prince who pleased the gods, glorious and beautiful, feel your heart cry the tiniest, tiniest
"save me--"
in the distance, you hear the victory horns of the enemy that xian le has been fighting, and in that moment, your spiritual power cracks -
and the entire statue comes down, because you can't hold it up any longer. ]
[ the mob screams in horror, as the crown prince statue begins to fall, and the celestial pagoda gives a horrible, wrenching groan, as it all begins to fall around your ears. they scatter, backpedaling, dragging their wretched, plague-infected existences away as the whole world starts to collapse.
and you... you have to run, too -- you have to flee, flee the statue and the building as it collapses, as plague victims die at your feet, bleeding to death, crushed by stone. you run, and run, and run, past your own face on the golden statue as it falls, past fires and dying citizens of xian le, past the crumbling wreckage of your kingdom, of everything you have ever known, and everything you tried so, so hard to protect.
tears are streaming down your face until the world blurs, and you run desperately for the battlefield, running, running to check on the soldiers, to fix something, anything,
and the only clear thing you see is a figure, standing amongst the corpses of xian le soldiers, as far as the eye can see.
he looks up to you, wearing a white mask; the face half smiles, and half cries. his sleeves flutter in the wind, and he gives you a wave, almost carefree.
it is the same face that whispered the cure to the human face plague in your ear, months ago.
the only way to cure the human face plague is by killing someone else, xian le.
you feel more emotions than you've ever felt at once. despair is overrun by anger, and you throw yourself up to the top of the fortress walls over the battlefield and scream, "DON"T GO!"
you have jumped from higher places than this. your spiritual energy is utterly boundless, and in this moment, you have only one focus - the white no face, who stares at you now, half laughing, half crying, almost beckoning. you will find him. you will wring a true cure from his neck, and you think this as you jump effortlessly off of the tall wall with everything you have in you.
every time you have fallen, it was as if you have descended straight from the heavens. thousands of tales are told about the crown prince of xian le's descent at the spring festival parade, how he seemed to flutter down like a gift straight from above, about how he landed pleased and full of pride no matter the height. a hero. an image. a legend. beloved treasure of xian le.
but today, when your leg hits the ground, pain wracks from foot to hip like being stabbed through with a sword, and you crumple.
you, the pride of xian le, beloved treasure, taizi dianxia, have fallen safely from the walls of xian le hundreds and thousands of times in glory.
today, when you fall, the bones in your leg shatter on impact, because you have nothing left to give. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 4, tuesday
Hey, hey, Xie Lian-san! [ she’s just always so happy to see him, wow. ] Have you tried the food here yet? Is it good?
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Good day, Miss Ochako. I have - it's very delicious. Would you like to share a meal with me? I was just thinking of grabbing a little more.
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Yeah, let's do it! [ curiously, she peers a little closer at him. ] Are you okay, though? You look pretty tired.
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[ xie lian's smile is genuine, though. ochako's cheer is very infectious, and xie lian is so very fond of her! so. he moves to settle down at one of the social distanced tables. ] I think I just need to eat!
[ he has had
a very bad memshare day today. it's fine. ]
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so she settles down at the table with him, orders her food, and lets her feet swing from the chair. she could absolutely put them on the ground, but that's no fun. ]
All the places the realm lets us see are pretty crazy, aren't they? I wonder what'll happen here this week, when Wednesday rolls around.
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[ it does seem with the company, he is brightening to normal, at least. xie lian likes ochako, and her good cheer is contagious. ]
Hopefully... it will be slightly less chaotic, than the past few weeks have been. [ it will not be. ]
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I dunno. I'm kind of waiting for there to be a big shootout or something, like in the old movies!
[ wouldn't that be fun?! ...well, maybe not, but it would definitely be exciting, and that alone makes her kick her feet a little more. of course, she doesn't notice the bubble that's floated under the table until the saloon starts to fade. (video, 17:12-17:38)when it ends, ochako sits still in her chair, looking stunned. ]
no subject
xie lian has learned a little bit about ochako's family, already. not a lot - but feeling this memory through her suddenly gives him more context. he can feel the emotions - the love she has for her family, that sudden disappointment, and it makes the loss of her own "dream" from the realm feel even sharper. xie lian feels for her, as deeply as he always has.
there's a beat, and he reaches across, to gently put his hand on hers, and give her a small, warm smile, masking the sadness he feels for her loss and instead focusing on the warmest part of it all - that love. ]
You must be very close with your parents, Miss Ochako; what a wonderful honor it must be, to have you as their daughter.
no subject
I know we were, but... I can't remember them. Their faces, and their voices... All I remember is that they're why I chose the path I did.
[ they're already fading, so quickly after the memory, leaving only the deep, unsettling knowledge that something very important is gone. there's something else there, too, she thinks, but that, too, is just out of reach.
...i swear i did mean for this to be soft but i literally just remembered that this happened this week fksldjflksdjg ]
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oh no. surprise flits across xie lian's face - his heart squeezes tight in his chest, and he does not relinquish his grip on her hand, just feeling a sense of utter heartbreak. of loss. of hurt, for the young of this place, for the thousandth time.
he squeezes her hand. ]
...Miss Ochako...I am so sorry.
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as xie lian squeezes her hands, she forces a smile to her face, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes. ]
It's okay. The harder I work with my team, the more likely it is we'll remember things, right? I did remember something a few weeks ago, so maybe... maybe it'll come back.
DW ALSO SAID I HAVE NO RIGHTS? wow. also 1/3
[ (looks at this from week 6 now) anyway. xie lian smiles at her, reassuring, bridging the gap between her forced one and himself. comforting - that it will be that way.
anyway! as he sits back, xie lian shifts a little in his seat. in doing so, his head tilts - and that cute little bun on the top of his head pops a bubble.
whoops. ]
no subject
you were once standing, but now you sit, your hands raised above you. it has been days, and your hands rest on the intricately carved leg of a statue. it is five meters tall, magnificent, the first true divine statue created for the crown prince who pleased the god, his highness taizi dianxia, the flower crowned martial god. his face is your face, carved in eminence and glory. it is the pride of xian le, that you hold in your hands, and you are holding it because the celestial pagoda that it holds up is crumbling down.
the pagoda is the centerpiece of xian le; the most massive, beautiful building in a beautiful kingdom, full of ancient treasures and beautiful things. full of the history of your family, and connected to every building on the holy martial avenue. if this building collapses, it will bring down residences full of people, the main streets, and the eminence of the royal family of xian le, barely holding on by a thread. you summoned the statue here, from its home in mt. taicang, where you always cultivate, and brought it to hold up the sky. but the symbolic crown prince had cracked, and now, the crown prince holds himself up with trembling hands and draining spiritual energy.
worshippers come by in throngs. you want to beg them to stop, to leave. each person who enters the pagoda to worship to the statue, to sing your praises, is in danger. a terrible earthquake, the drought, the infection - there were more reasons than ever to pray - and you cannot dare let them see for even a moment, that you will crack too. you haven't moved in days. sweat pours down your back, and you force yourself to meditate, to try and stay calm, to not waver even for a moment. you are seventeen years old, and you carry the entire world in your hands.
as the worshippers sing your praises, your mother comes to visit you, and you, for the first time in your young life, want to cry like a child in her arms.
but you don't.
you can't.
xian le is depending on you.
there is a moment when you nearly fade - when you feel your strength starting to fall, and when you look to your left, you see it. a tiny white flower, the shape of a dewdrop, placed among the foolish offerings left by a populace hoping to avoid the death that seemed to be haunting xian le. you remove one single shaking hand from the statue and take it, and grip it in your hand, as tight as you can, bringing it to your heart.
but the peace is broken, a moment later, because you smell blood. a man comes into your field of vision, screaming in agony and desperation. -- "why?! why?!"
to keep yourself from being attacked, you push at the man, who runs directly at you; he screams, and rolls backwards. it gives you enough time to realize that you know this person.
the man is covered in blood. your eyes track down his figure, to the rumbling palace floors behind him. the blood has left a trail as he's crawled his way to the statue, seeping from his one remaining leg, (you are the one who amputated his leg. you had no choice. you had to-- it was the only way to stop it - )
"why," you ask, dumbfounded, horrified, "why are you here?"
the man doesn't answer you. he crawls closer, and shoves his remaining leg in your face, reaching with trembling, bloody hands to lift his pant leg.
staring back at you is a horrifying, twisted face of a human being.
horror strikes you to your core.
it's the human face plague.
the man screams. "why did you cut off my leg?! it still relapsed! my leg's gone! give it back! give it back!"
he is screaming, spitting in your face, and you, panicked, summon up a spell to try and suppress the poison in the young man's veins. "Let me help you--" you start, even if your voice trembles, at first.
and you soothe this young man's pain while you hold the statue, and he looks grateful, but you have no time to ask another question. another voice cries, "Your highness, save me!"
"Your highness!" "Your highness save me!" they rise in pitch, agony, human suffering at a peak, surrounding you on all sides. "your highness, I've cut half of my face off! it's still not healed! why?! just what do we have to do to cure it?!" "your highness! look at me! look at what i've become!"
panic rises in your throat. you hold onto the statue and try to turn your face away, because you can't, you can't look any further, because you know the cure, you know the cure and all of these people are begging you for it but you can't, you can't -- every time you try to cast a spell to ease their pain, ten fall back, and ten more come forward, begging, pleading.
"your highness! me! help me too!" the statue starts to sway in your arms and you beg them to wait.
"no, i don't want to wait! i've waited for too long!"
"your highness, why would you treat him, but not me?!"
"how come when you treated him, his symptoms were as good as new, but mine aren't better? aren't you a god? why are you so unfair! i demand justice!"
you falter. your hands are trembling, "I'm not being unfair, this isn't on me, your symptoms are different--"
"if you're going to help, then help all the way. now you wanna drop everything, what exactly are you playing at? is it up to you?"
panic crawls up your throat, your heart beating fast, faster, "I'm not dropping anything! I just - just wait - "
"DON'T YOU KNOW HOW TO CURE THIS DISEASE?"
no, you think, you can't know, you can't. "I-"
"IF YOU KNOW, THEN WHY WON'T YOU TELL US?!"
you want to scream. your spiritual power holds the statue as your hands come free, and you grab your head and bury your fingers in your hair - "I don't know anything!"
"YOU'RE LYING!" a voice accuses, "I ALREADY HEARD SOMEONE TALKING, YOU KNEW! I'VE SEEN THROUGH YOU! YOU WON'T TELL US BECAUSE YOU JUST WANT US TO KEEP BEGGING YOU LIKE THIS, SO YOU CAN STEAL OUR DONATION MONEY! YOU'RE A LIAR!"
"WHAT'S THE CURE?! TELL US! TELL US NOW!
someone grabs you around the throat, tightening, the oxygen in your lungs squeezed and squeezed to nothing. another hand grabs your shirt, your clothes, your sweat soaked robes, your hair, anything they can get their hands on, as the mob descends upon you. your vision is full of mutilated, bloody faces, begging, screaming, their intent nothing but murderous, and you, former god of heaven, the crown prince who pleased the gods, glorious and beautiful, feel your heart cry the tiniest, tiniest
"save me--"
in the distance, you hear the victory horns of the enemy that xian le has been fighting, and in that moment, your spiritual power cracks -
and the entire statue comes down, because you can't hold it up any longer. ]
no subject
and you... you have to run, too -- you have to flee, flee the statue and the building as it collapses, as plague victims die at your feet, bleeding to death, crushed by stone. you run, and run, and run, past your own face on the golden statue as it falls, past fires and dying citizens of xian le, past the crumbling wreckage of your kingdom, of everything you have ever known, and everything you tried so, so hard to protect.
tears are streaming down your face until the world blurs, and you run desperately for the battlefield, running, running to check on the soldiers, to fix something, anything,
and the only clear thing you see is a figure, standing amongst the corpses of xian le soldiers, as far as the eye can see.
he looks up to you, wearing a white mask; the face half smiles, and half cries. his sleeves flutter in the wind, and he gives you a wave, almost carefree.
it is the same face that whispered the cure to the human face plague in your ear, months ago.
the only way to cure the human face plague is by killing someone else, xian le.
you feel more emotions than you've ever felt at once. despair is overrun by anger, and you throw yourself up to the top of the fortress walls over the battlefield and scream, "DON"T GO!"
you have jumped from higher places than this. your spiritual energy is utterly boundless, and in this moment, you have only one focus - the white no face, who stares at you now, half laughing, half crying, almost beckoning. you will find him. you will wring a true cure from his neck, and you think this as you jump effortlessly off of the tall wall with everything you have in you.
every time you have fallen, it was as if you have descended straight from the heavens. thousands of tales are told about the crown prince of xian le's descent at the spring festival parade, how he seemed to flutter down like a gift straight from above, about how he landed pleased and full of pride no matter the height. a hero. an image. a legend. beloved treasure of xian le.
but today, when your leg hits the ground, pain wracks from foot to hip like being stabbed through with a sword, and you crumple.
you, the pride of xian le, beloved treasure, taizi dianxia, have fallen safely from the walls of xian le hundreds and thousands of times in glory.
today, when you fall, the bones in your leg shatter on impact, because you have nothing left to give. ]