[ But for a basis of interesting, Claude sits higher on his list than others do. It's easier to figure out the core of people like Hikaru, Yona, Sora - they're heroes, optimistic and kind, wanting to help others. They're cut from the same cloth as Xie Lian.
Then there's the ones that don't carry their heart on their sleeve like that. Whose talents are less straight forward, or veer off the norm.
Like Claude. ]
En, I agree. [ And it's not really much of a bother to him, at the end of the day. Not with the tradeoff of not going up the wall with a need to be close to someone like this. ] At least it's not a hardship, really.
[ A chuckle comes at the question, and he takes a sip of the tea. ]
I'm a city master. Built it from the ground up, some hundreds of years back, and have run it ever since.
(His attention is caught! Even if this is only part of the answer, he's intrigued by it all the same because he's a little nerd.)
That couldn't have been easy. There must have been a few hardships along the way, especially in all of that time. But if you've managed to run it this long, then that speaks for you as a designer.
(Propping his elbow on the table and resting his hand in his palm,)
I'd love to hear more about it. What's it like? How does it run?
[ What a fucking nerdlord. It's fine, though, he doesn't mind talking about it. ]
Ghost City is simply named, because that's what it was. [ He takes both hands parallel to each other, drawing his fingers across the table between them in straight lines. ] It's also called the Ghost Market, and is the first in the three realms of its kind - it's the main draw for why so many go there, including mortals and gods. Everything is built on a network, with the main street its foundation. I would say it's a city that never sleeps, but ghosts prosper more under nightfall than they do during the day, for as unsurprising and boring as that can be.
[ And he doesn't have anything to draw with, currently, but he uses his fingers to go from the end of the "street" to swoop out, creating a circle with two halves. ]
To say it's chaotic would be an understatement, probably. The residents are unruly, and annoying, ghosts and demons alike. They need to be kept in line or given a focus for their negative energy and resentment - so, they're in Ghost City.
(Truly, and he taps his finger on the table, thoughtful.)
So it's a real city with a structure and central focus. I'd wondered if "Ghost City" was a nickname for a place. You know how it can be. People are always giving other names to places that already exist. The Valley of Torment, the Red Canyon, the Aquatic Capital... but none of those are real names, even if they can give an idea of what one might expect... usually.
(The Red Canyon is still a mystery to him.)
But to imagine a place where mortals and gods can exist, with ghost and demons... it sounds like a story. Ah, not that I'm doubting you. I'm sure there are things where I'm from that might sound incredible in their own right.
Mm, I understand - we have some places like that, but for the most part they're all rather straightforward in terms of naming sense. Not that those names wouldn't fit right in with some parts of Zhongguo. [ Especially the Valley of Torment? Sounds legit to him, to be honest.
But he reaches for his tea, setting the cup in one spot in the imaginary circle he's created. ]
You'll find mortals where I'm from will even agree with you, though so many worship the gods and fear ghosts that it's more like if they turn a blind eye to it, it won't be there. [ He rolls his eye, then taps the cup with a finger. ] And yet so many wind up coming to Ghost City, for their own reasons. For the market - to buy curses and talismans; or ingredients for remedies, magic, the like; for artefacts that will benefit them, in some way - or, for the most trafficked feature.
Honestly? I've never believed in ghosts or gods. When you're dead, you're dead. Everything is over and all that's left is for the living to carry on your memory and legacy for better or worse. As for gods... well, even if they are real, I have better things to do than put my faith in intangible things.
(He shrugs,)
Cities with the most resources, armies with the most men, the soldier with the most experience, the terrain on a field, the weather at the time... Things I can see and count on are more valuable than the whims of some divine or otherworldly force.
(Casual things to say to a Ghost King, to someone who oversees an entire realm filled with what sounds like dangerous potential. Curses and talismans? Magic and enchantments? Surely, those are things that would turn the tide in any situation.)
If I stick to my beliefs and disregard the things that seem too fantastic, I can still appreciate a city with a valuable market and a shrewd king.
(Which is why he listens so carefully. If Hua Cheng hadn't established himself as an interesting character to begin with, he'd probably dismiss all of this, think little else of it and only carry on with the conversation for the sake of being polite. But like recognizes like and Claude can only give Hua Cheng his complete attention as he speaks,)
That sounds pretty sketchy. (A Gambler's Den,) I bet all sorts of things go down in a place like that, especially if you aren't careful.
I can't fault the logic. [ The amusement is obvious, even without the emotionshare, but he's fairly calm about everything. No offense, no perceived slight. Hua Cheng brings his cup up to take a drink, before returning it to its place as the Gambler's Den. ] If the gods don't walk among you, whether their identities are revealed or not, and ghosts don't truly haunt you... why believe in them? A monster doesn't have to be fantastic to be a monster.
[ And even if it's casual, could be an insult, Claude has done the same thing - he's interesting. He's got a familiar spark to his gaze, one that belongs to someone always watching, always assessing, always filing away information. So he gives him information, without giving him anything deeper. ]
But I can't say you're missing out much, if there are no real gods where you come from. Most are useless, and manpower and politics are more beneficial to you than their supposed divinity. They're no different than the petty, egotistical mortals that make up nobility.
[ Slowly, he sits back, tapping the rim of the tea cup with a finger. ]
Ghosts carry resentful energy. Even those with the best intentions do - it's simply because the dead carry different energy from the living, especially if they remain in the world, rather than returning to the cycle. Some succumb to the energy, and embrace something more chaotic. Many of my residents are the sort you would find in a back alley, in the oft ignored corners of your most illustrious cities.
I've had any number of mortals and ghosts, even gods, walk into the Gambler's Den. Anything is forfeit, if it's of an equivalent price to your bet. A banker's legs are useless, in exchange for the downfall of a competitor, but an artisan's hands can be bet in exchange for fortune - and if you win the gamble, you walk away with your winnings and your hands. Lose, and perhaps they'll be cut off, perhaps they'll be irreparably crushed.
Regardless, you've lost. Many walk away with their results, but others - crazed and euphoric from victory, frenzied and desperate from loss - keep going.
(And this is a tale that has him quiet, thoughtful, considering the sort of place this Gambler's Den could be. He imagines the dark alleys of Fodlan, the shadows and the abyss tucked away in those busy port cities and those glowing capitals. Places that he, admittedly, isn't very familiar with and hadn't thought much of until fairly recently. )
Sometimes people get so caught up in the hope of something better, they don't think about their present losses.
(He lifts his tea, thinking of, well, people. He thinks of Edelgard, so resolute and willing to make whatever sacrifices she'd need to accomplish her goals. Edelgard who was willing to make her first move regardless of who was in her way. He thinks of Dimitri, eager to a fault and so terribly kind that Claude almost feels sorry for him. Dimitri who who feels for others easily and could be a kind or hurt king some day. And he thinks of himself... The three of them are more alike than they'd ever be comfortable admitting.
What would the three of them do in that sort of this place? Keep playing to make things right. Keep playing to win more and more. Eventually cut their losses or accept whatever gains they might have and leave? It isn't that simple. There are people who would do anything for their dreams...)
... And sometimes people just don't realize how far they're willing to go until it's too late.
(It's a lesson to be learned. Something to keep in mind. And one he's taking the time to appreciate, as someone so young compared to someone incredibly older and more experienced with how a world can be.)
There are people who don't need a Gambler's Den or any special place to try their luck.
[ Something twinkles in Hua Cheng's dark gaze, almost - approving, in its way. Acknowledging. You're thinking, you're learning, as he takes this story of his wild city and lays it all out in front of him. Any number of people like Claude, like his classmates, have come and gone, through the mocking doorway of the Gambler's Den. And any number of them have come out with their heads held high, taking their earnings and victories with them.
But just as many have been dragged out, bloody, in tears, begging to go again, again, again - ]
Immortal or mortal, living or dead, all are fallible in the end. There is no turning back, when you've already committed yourself to putting it all on the line. [ A businessman, willing to put the life of his one and only daughter on the line for the success of his business and the downfall of his competitors. The fastest courier, placing bets with his own legs against the house.
A soldier in an unending war, bloodshed and death and strife at every turn, weapon in hand and life on the line. ] Sometimes all they need is the promise of a chance. It doesn't matter where they're placing their bets, when all they have is their eyes on the prize.
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no subject
[ But for a basis of interesting, Claude sits higher on his list than others do. It's easier to figure out the core of people like Hikaru, Yona, Sora - they're heroes, optimistic and kind, wanting to help others. They're cut from the same cloth as Xie Lian.
Then there's the ones that don't carry their heart on their sleeve like that. Whose talents are less straight forward, or veer off the norm.
Like Claude. ]
En, I agree. [ And it's not really much of a bother to him, at the end of the day. Not with the tradeoff of not going up the wall with a need to be close to someone like this. ] At least it's not a hardship, really.
[ A chuckle comes at the question, and he takes a sip of the tea. ]
I'm a city master. Built it from the ground up, some hundreds of years back, and have run it ever since.
no subject
(His attention is caught! Even if this is only part of the answer, he's intrigued by it all the same
because he's a little nerd.)That couldn't have been easy. There must have been a few hardships along the way, especially in all of that time. But if you've managed to run it this long, then that speaks for you as a designer.
(Propping his elbow on the table and resting his hand in his palm,)
I'd love to hear more about it. What's it like? How does it run?
no subject
Ghost City is simply named, because that's what it was. [ He takes both hands parallel to each other, drawing his fingers across the table between them in straight lines. ] It's also called the Ghost Market, and is the first in the three realms of its kind - it's the main draw for why so many go there, including mortals and gods. Everything is built on a network, with the main street its foundation. I would say it's a city that never sleeps, but ghosts prosper more under nightfall than they do during the day, for as unsurprising and boring as that can be.
[ And he doesn't have anything to draw with, currently, but he uses his fingers to go from the end of the "street" to swoop out, creating a circle with two halves. ]
To say it's chaotic would be an understatement, probably. The residents are unruly, and annoying, ghosts and demons alike. They need to be kept in line or given a focus for their negative energy and resentment - so, they're in Ghost City.
no subject
(Truly, and he taps his finger on the table, thoughtful.)
So it's a real city with a structure and central focus. I'd wondered if "Ghost City" was a nickname for a place. You know how it can be. People are always giving other names to places that already exist. The Valley of Torment, the Red Canyon, the Aquatic Capital... but none of those are real names, even if they can give an idea of what one might expect... usually.
(The Red Canyon is still a mystery to him.)
But to imagine a place where mortals and gods can exist, with ghost and demons... it sounds like a story. Ah, not that I'm doubting you. I'm sure there are things where I'm from that might sound incredible in their own right.
no subject
But he reaches for his tea, setting the cup in one spot in the imaginary circle he's created. ]
You'll find mortals where I'm from will even agree with you, though so many worship the gods and fear ghosts that it's more like if they turn a blind eye to it, it won't be there. [ He rolls his eye, then taps the cup with a finger. ] And yet so many wind up coming to Ghost City, for their own reasons. For the market - to buy curses and talismans; or ingredients for remedies, magic, the like; for artefacts that will benefit them, in some way - or, for the most trafficked feature.
The Gambler's Den.
no subject
(He shrugs,)
Cities with the most resources, armies with the most men, the soldier with the most experience, the terrain on a field, the weather at the time... Things I can see and count on are more valuable than the whims of some divine or otherworldly force.
(Casual things to say to a Ghost King, to someone who oversees an entire realm filled with what sounds like dangerous potential. Curses and talismans? Magic and enchantments? Surely, those are things that would turn the tide in any situation.)
If I stick to my beliefs and disregard the things that seem too fantastic, I can still appreciate a city with a valuable market and a shrewd king.
(Which is why he listens so carefully. If Hua Cheng hadn't established himself as an interesting character to begin with, he'd probably dismiss all of this, think little else of it and only carry on with the conversation for the sake of being polite. But like recognizes like and Claude can only give Hua Cheng his complete attention as he speaks,)
That sounds pretty sketchy. (A Gambler's Den,) I bet all sorts of things go down in a place like that, especially if you aren't careful.
(Tell him more.)
no subject
[ And even if it's casual, could be an insult, Claude has done the same thing - he's interesting. He's got a familiar spark to his gaze, one that belongs to someone always watching, always assessing, always filing away information. So he gives him information, without giving him anything deeper. ]
But I can't say you're missing out much, if there are no real gods where you come from. Most are useless, and manpower and politics are more beneficial to you than their supposed divinity. They're no different than the petty, egotistical mortals that make up nobility.
[ Slowly, he sits back, tapping the rim of the tea cup with a finger. ]
Ghosts carry resentful energy. Even those with the best intentions do - it's simply because the dead carry different energy from the living, especially if they remain in the world, rather than returning to the cycle. Some succumb to the energy, and embrace something more chaotic. Many of my residents are the sort you would find in a back alley, in the oft ignored corners of your most illustrious cities.
I've had any number of mortals and ghosts, even gods, walk into the Gambler's Den. Anything is forfeit, if it's of an equivalent price to your bet. A banker's legs are useless, in exchange for the downfall of a competitor, but an artisan's hands can be bet in exchange for fortune - and if you win the gamble, you walk away with your winnings and your hands. Lose, and perhaps they'll be cut off, perhaps they'll be irreparably crushed.
Regardless, you've lost. Many walk away with their results, but others - crazed and euphoric from victory, frenzied and desperate from loss - keep going.
no subject
Sometimes people get so caught up in the hope of something better, they don't think about their present losses.
(He lifts his tea, thinking of, well, people. He thinks of Edelgard, so resolute and willing to make whatever sacrifices she'd need to accomplish her goals. Edelgard who was willing to make her first move regardless of who was in her way. He thinks of Dimitri, eager to a fault and so terribly kind that Claude almost feels sorry for him. Dimitri who who feels for others easily and could be a kind or hurt king some day. And he thinks of himself... The three of them are more alike than they'd ever be comfortable admitting.
What would the three of them do in that sort of this place? Keep playing to make things right. Keep playing to win more and more. Eventually cut their losses or accept whatever gains they might have and leave? It isn't that simple. There are people who would do anything for their dreams...)
... And sometimes people just don't realize how far they're willing to go until it's too late.
(It's a lesson to be learned. Something to keep in mind. And one he's taking the time to appreciate, as someone so young compared to someone incredibly older and more experienced with how a world can be.)
There are people who don't need a Gambler's Den or any special place to try their luck.
no subject
But just as many have been dragged out, bloody, in tears, begging to go again, again, again - ]
Immortal or mortal, living or dead, all are fallible in the end. There is no turning back, when you've already committed yourself to putting it all on the line. [ A businessman, willing to put the life of his one and only daughter on the line for the success of his business and the downfall of his competitors. The fastest courier, placing bets with his own legs against the house.
A soldier in an unending war, bloodshed and death and strife at every turn, weapon in hand and life on the line. ] Sometimes all they need is the promise of a chance. It doesn't matter where they're placing their bets, when all they have is their eyes on the prize.