Something like that is interesting, isn't it? Something that came quickly and then resolved itself overnight. The timing can't just be a coincidence either.
(The way he was just instantly better the next morning, after two people died.)
But it's something I'd like to look into more first. It's concerning... the last thing we need is for people to misunderstand what it could all mean.
No, and considering the fact that there's been no indication that anyone else was affected... it does seem targeted.
[ looks at what happens to them after this thread, looks away ]
But with very little indication of where it came from, or who it might have been, if a person and not the Realm, it's for the best that you don't let that information go errantly where it shouldn't.
Misinformation breeds trouble, when it isn't controlled. [ A small huff. ] So we'll certainly see.
Unfortunately, there are those that ran into me that day so it can't be helped. (Sometimes you don't realize you're losing your memories until you run into people and they ask you what the fuck is going on.) I'm not too worried. I think I can trust them to be discrete.
(ANYWAY, he's given Hua Cheng his wine! So he's just gonna turn on his heel and leave--)
So long as you're sure, though there's not much to be done about it. [ Except silencing them. Which is, you know, frowned upon here! ]
Hm? [ Oh, Claude is leaving? For a moment, it seems almost like he's absolutely going to be able to walk off and call it a day. Except there's a brief jingle of his boots, intentional as the only warning that he has.
See: icon. Albeit, only for a moment, since it's shock week in this timeline. ]
Oh, you thought that was even? Come now, Claude, we should sit down for some tea again.
Yikes! (He jumps! Honestly, it's one thing to be struck by an arrow or hit with a sword but he's still getting used to these shocks. Magic always feels more... shocking (heh). ) Careful! You'll give me a heart attack!
(He's fine. He's healthy.)
Eh? Come on, I just gave you something from my own personal collection here.
(He's absolutely going to try to weasel out of ??? Whatever. )
Who said anything about dying? (Claude sure didn't.) Trust me, I've no intention of dying any time soon, poor heart or not.
(BUT UUUGH, look, he knew? But sometimes if you act confident enough and play things off just right, you can walk away and leave things unspoken.
Of course, that doesn't work with Hua Cheng.)
Alright, alright, can you blame me for trying, though?
(It's tea time now?? Assuming Hua Cheng is putting Claude to work, he's just... gonna head off to the kitchen and Hua Cheng can follow him while he gathers everything.)
[ But it is Hua Cheng, who has spent all of his time as a ghost playing this game. He gets it, and he's not exactly going to let Claude get away with it, when he's just dangled things in front of his nose. ]
I can't. You get marks for the effort, which would probably have worked on anyone else.
[ Anyways, yeah, he's putting him to work. Why would Hua Cheng do it??? He'll just follow along, radiating amusement. ]
(Well, all he ever asks is for a little bit of credit. Even if it's just an "Ugh, Claude." He'll take it!
Kettle hot, tea bags ready, and some sweets to eat on the side, all that's left is to set up and give the tea some time to brew. So off to a quiet corner of the dining room or something they go. The tea of the day is... a mint tea.)
Alright. (Steeping the tea,) We could dance around this all week.
(Negotiating, leading, hinting, manipulating, trying ot get the other to give in,)
[ Patiently waiting for Claude to get everything together, like his own personal ghost (heh), Hua Cheng follows after him to their quiet corner. A good, designated location for them to talk shop and generally pick each others' brains over tea.
And he laughs, openly amused at the fact that they're getting right to the point. ]
For as much as I enjoy being a vague asshole about things, and playing through the games, I appreciate this.
[ A hum, and he puts his chin in his hand, single eye dark and keen as always. ]
Oh, don't get me wrong. I enjoy it too. (Really,) But I've been doing it so much... it's exhausting. Almost as exhausting the Table back home. Maybe even more because the people here are at least more tolerable at times.
(Oh, boy, but he taps his finger on the table, thinking over the request and then... trying to choose a story,)
Just a story? (His finger stops, resting next to his saucer,) Let's see what I can come up with...
(Skills: Telling stories.)
Once upon a time, in a far, faraway land, there was a young boy. This boy came from a despised lineage. In short, his mother was a daughter of the enemy. So the young boy was treated horribly by everyone around him. He hadn't done anything wrong. From the moment he was born... and maybe even before that, everyone hated him simply for existing.
They called him a coward and a weakling. He would scream and fight them but it was never enough. Eventually, things escalated. After all, he was weak, so surely, he'd be an easy target, right? The boy would find his belongings in the fountain, needles in his bed... and then his horse would be driven mad, arrows would fly too close to him during hunts, and once, he even found a viper in his bed. And yet, through it all, the boy lived, much to their growing frustration.
(It's here that he pauses his story, reaching out for the tea pot to remove the bag and pour Hua Cheng the first cup,)
The joke was on them. Every time they threw his work into the fountain, he would just rewrite all of his notes again and again to replace them. He became a skilled horseman who could ride even the most wild stallion in the land. As for the viper... well, he fine in the end which is more than can be said for the other.
(He's still alive, unlike the snake.)
Anyway, I guess you could say the boy had something of miserable life.
(And of course, there's more to the story but the least he can do is give a pause for Hua Cheng to give any of his reactions. It helps him to know which direction to move the story, at least.)
[ There's a chuckle at that, because he's not wrong, really. Not that he has to contend much with listening to people - he's the be all, end all of Ghost City, and he ignores the Heavens at every turn.
But he settles in, preparing to file away the information he's given. Because he doesn't think that Claude will tell him just any story - he's the kind of person to weave a tale, if he truly is skilled at storytelling, and he'll have to pick out the details to dissect.
His expression doesn't change as the story goes on.
But as Claude leans in at any point during his tale, to close distance for the tea as he does, or if there's a moment for the theatrics, there's an - answering echo? (Snow, remembering this thread is in emotionshare week.) What is interested there has a trace of knowing, and understanding, in a way that doesn't indicate secondhand experience. It's faint, as he keeps everything neatly packed away underneath the constant, ebbing threat that's just there. ]
And how did the world, ah, welcome the loathed little boy, as he began to rise above the threats and challenges he faced? Surely it wasn't well-received that he had made it as far as he had, since so many put in such efforts to bestow misery on him at every turn.
(What is emotions share week. It's fine. There are some theatrics. He speaks expressively with his voice and his hands, trying to illustrate his settings and his scenes. And even if the story is close to his heart-- there are parts that twinge of melancholy here, a quiet and amusing secret there-- he speaks distantly. It's as if he truly is speaking about a character from a story instead of well...)
A messenger from "the outside" came. He spoke to the boy's mother and invited her back home... but she refused. The land didn't want her. They wanted her gift; a gift the boy realized he also had.
In this faraway land, he'd been hated for his blood but in this "outside world," there were people who wanted it. He saw an opportunity... so like his mother before him, he left his life behind and went to another land.
He climbed over the great wall that separated the two lands. But no sooner had he stepped foot into his new home... when he heard someone call him a beast. Of course, they didn't know he was one... he hadn't told anyone who he was yet. But that only made them speak more freely. "Violent beasts" and "boorish menaces."
He realized no world would accept him.
(No anger. No sadness. Only a disappointment. To tell a story, to set up an underdog for a protagonist, and to follow up with this... it's truly a disappointment. And yet, through it all, there's a lining in the air, something growing, warm and steady-- hope. A hint that there's still more to the story.)
[ A laugh, and Hua Cheng waves his hand for him to continue as he reaches for the tea. He can keep going, and he'll keep listening to the story. Commit it to memory. If this is a story that Claude has chosen to tell, then, well, clearly it's important, isn't it? They're cut from the same cloth, keeping private.
And what a terrible ending, many would say. No place to belong? No world for a beast?
Hey, ugly monster!
The amusement is still there, but dark, bitter, and he takes a sip of his tea as the story settles into place. Even without that tinge of hope that he can feel, it's obvious there's more to this particular tale. How could there not be, if the storyteller is still here to tell it? And mortals still have so much time to change their fates, for better or worse, against what odds they think are stacked against them. ]
This boy doesn't sound like the type to just sit down and let this sort of thing pass. If no world would accept him, then... what was his next step?
[ Hua Cheng can guess, thinking of the walls he built, the foundations planned, the city that he made with his own two hands. ]
He became someone else. He took up a new name and created a new identity. He showed everyone his gift and claimed his birthright. Even though there were people who doubted who he was and tried to find out more, they never thought to look in the right places. They thought so highly of their own kind, they never considered the boy could be from anywhere else but within their own lines.
(He still isn't sure if he should be flattered or insulted by that oversight. Even if they doubted who he really was, he'd impressed them enough to the point they would have never considered him to be anything but another Fodlander. Maybe it's a bit of both. Either way, it worked out in his favor. )
The boy studied their culture, learned their traditions, and embraced their beliefs. He fell more in love with his new home each day. He embraced the people in that land, the good and bad. One would think he was truly one of them! But the boy never forgot who he was or where he came from. When he praised their heavens, he still whispered to the earth and when they told him their truths, he held onto his own.
In time, he came to realize if he wanted to truly be himself, he would have to change the world and he came up with a plan...
(His voice trails towards the end, and he takes a sip from his tea,)
And, well, that's it for now. What happens after is another story.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
- and catching the bottle on instinct, before he realizes what it is. And he snorts. ]
Well, that's one way to greet someone, Claude.
no subject
(He's grateful for what they did for him,)
I know it isn't much, though.
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All things considered, it wouldn't do to have that information spread.
no subject
(And he streeeetches,)
Something like that is interesting, isn't it? Something that came quickly and then resolved itself overnight. The timing can't just be a coincidence either.
(The way he was just instantly better the next morning, after two people died.)
But it's something I'd like to look into more first. It's concerning... the last thing we need is for people to misunderstand what it could all mean.
(Time to get some more answers.)
no subject
[ looks at what happens to them after this thread, looks away ]
But with very little indication of where it came from, or who it might have been, if a person and not the Realm, it's for the best that you don't let that information go errantly where it shouldn't.
Misinformation breeds trouble, when it isn't controlled. [ A small huff. ] So we'll certainly see.
no subject
Unfortunately, there are those that ran into me that day so it can't be helped. (Sometimes you don't realize you're losing your memories until you run into people and they ask you what the fuck is going on.) I'm not too worried. I think I can trust them to be discrete.
(ANYWAY, he's given Hua Cheng his wine! So he's just gonna turn on his heel and leave--)
Right, so that's done. Even? Even.
(C a t c h h i m.)
no subject
Hm? [ Oh, Claude is leaving? For a moment, it seems almost like he's absolutely going to be able to walk off and call it a day. Except there's a brief jingle of his boots, intentional as the only warning that he has.
See: icon. Albeit, only for a moment, since it's shock week in this timeline. ]
Oh, you thought that was even? Come now, Claude, we should sit down for some tea again.
no subject
(He's fine. He's healthy.)
Eh? Come on, I just gave you something from my own personal collection here.
(He's absolutely going to try to weasel out of ??? Whatever. )
no subject
[ That is NOT reassuring! Hua Cheng!
Whatever. ]
A small bottle of wine that you got from your "gift bag" is not an equivalent trade for the favor that gege and I did for you, you know.
no subject
(BUT UUUGH, look, he knew? But sometimes if you act confident enough and play things off just right, you can walk away and leave things unspoken.
Of course, that doesn't work with Hua Cheng.)
Alright, alright, can you blame me for trying, though?
(It's tea time now?? Assuming Hua Cheng is putting Claude to work, he's just... gonna head off to the kitchen and Hua Cheng can follow him while he gathers everything.)
no subject
[ But it is Hua Cheng, who has spent all of his time as a ghost playing this game. He gets it, and he's not exactly going to let Claude get away with it, when he's just dangled things in front of his nose. ]
I can't. You get marks for the effort, which would probably have worked on anyone else.
[ Anyways, yeah, he's putting him to work. Why would Hua Cheng do it??? He'll just follow along, radiating amusement. ]
no subject
Kettle hot, tea bags ready, and some sweets to eat on the side, all that's left is to set up and give the tea some time to brew. So off to a quiet corner of the dining room or something they go. The tea of the day is... a mint tea.)
Alright. (Steeping the tea,) We could dance around this all week.
(Negotiating, leading, hinting, manipulating, trying ot get the other to give in,)
So let's get to it instead.
no subject
And he laughs, openly amused at the fact that they're getting right to the point. ]
For as much as I enjoy being a vague asshole about things, and playing through the games, I appreciate this.
[ A hum, and he puts his chin in his hand, single eye dark and keen as always. ]
Why don't you tell me a story, Claude.
no subject
(Oh, boy, but he taps his finger on the table, thinking over the request and then... trying to choose a story,)
Just a story? (His finger stops, resting next to his saucer,) Let's see what I can come up with...
(Skills: Telling stories.)
Once upon a time, in a far, faraway land, there was a young boy. This boy came from a despised lineage. In short, his mother was a daughter of the enemy. So the young boy was treated horribly by everyone around him. He hadn't done anything wrong. From the moment he was born... and maybe even before that, everyone hated him simply for existing.
They called him a coward and a weakling. He would scream and fight them but it was never enough. Eventually, things escalated. After all, he was weak, so surely, he'd be an easy target, right? The boy would find his belongings in the fountain, needles in his bed... and then his horse would be driven mad, arrows would fly too close to him during hunts, and once, he even found a viper in his bed. And yet, through it all, the boy lived, much to their growing frustration.
(It's here that he pauses his story, reaching out for the tea pot to remove the bag and pour Hua Cheng the first cup,)
The joke was on them. Every time they threw his work into the fountain, he would just rewrite all of his notes again and again to replace them. He became a skilled horseman who could ride even the most wild stallion in the land. As for the viper... well, he fine in the end which is more than can be said for the other.
(He's still alive, unlike the snake.)
Anyway, I guess you could say the boy had something of miserable life.
(And of course, there's more to the story but the least he can do is give a pause for Hua Cheng to give any of his reactions. It helps him to know which direction to move the story, at least.)
no subject
But he settles in, preparing to file away the information he's given. Because he doesn't think that Claude will tell him just any story - he's the kind of person to weave a tale, if he truly is skilled at storytelling, and he'll have to pick out the details to dissect.
His expression doesn't change as the story goes on.
But as Claude leans in at any point during his tale, to close distance for the tea as he does, or if there's a moment for the theatrics, there's an - answering echo? (Snow, remembering this thread is in emotionshare week.) What is interested there has a trace of knowing, and understanding, in a way that doesn't indicate secondhand experience. It's faint, as he keeps everything neatly packed away underneath the constant, ebbing threat that's just there. ]
And how did the world, ah, welcome the loathed little boy, as he began to rise above the threats and challenges he faced? Surely it wasn't well-received that he had made it as far as he had, since so many put in such efforts to bestow misery on him at every turn.
no subject
(What is emotions share week. It's fine. There are some theatrics. He speaks expressively with his voice and his hands, trying to illustrate his settings and his scenes. And even if the story is close to his heart-- there are parts that twinge of melancholy here, a quiet and amusing secret there-- he speaks distantly. It's as if he truly is speaking about a character from a story instead of well...)
A messenger from "the outside" came. He spoke to the boy's mother and invited her back home... but she refused. The land didn't want her. They wanted her gift; a gift the boy realized he also had.
In this faraway land, he'd been hated for his blood but in this "outside world," there were people who wanted it. He saw an opportunity... so like his mother before him, he left his life behind and went to another land.
He climbed over the great wall that separated the two lands. But no sooner had he stepped foot into his new home... when he heard someone call him a beast. Of course, they didn't know he was one... he hadn't told anyone who he was yet. But that only made them speak more freely. "Violent beasts" and "boorish menaces."
He realized no world would accept him.
(No anger. No sadness. Only a disappointment. To tell a story, to set up an underdog for a protagonist, and to follow up with this... it's truly a disappointment. And yet, through it all, there's a lining in the air, something growing, warm and steady-- hope. A hint that there's still more to the story.)
no subject
And what a terrible ending, many would say. No place to belong? No world for a beast?
Hey, ugly monster!
The amusement is still there, but dark, bitter, and he takes a sip of his tea as the story settles into place. Even without that tinge of hope that he can feel, it's obvious there's more to this particular tale. How could there not be, if the storyteller is still here to tell it? And mortals still have so much time to change their fates, for better or worse, against what odds they think are stacked against them. ]
This boy doesn't sound like the type to just sit down and let this sort of thing pass. If no world would accept him, then... what was his next step?
[ Hua Cheng can guess, thinking of the walls he built, the foundations planned, the city that he made with his own two hands. ]
no subject
(He still isn't sure if he should be flattered or insulted by that oversight. Even if they doubted who he really was, he'd impressed them enough to the point they would have never considered him to be anything but another Fodlander. Maybe it's a bit of both. Either way, it worked out in his favor. )
The boy studied their culture, learned their traditions, and embraced their beliefs. He fell more in love with his new home each day. He embraced the people in that land, the good and bad. One would think he was truly one of them! But the boy never forgot who he was or where he came from. When he praised their heavens, he still whispered to the earth and when they told him their truths, he held onto his own.
In time, he came to realize if he wanted to truly be himself, he would have to change the world and he came up with a plan...
(His voice trails towards the end, and he takes a sip from his tea,)
And, well, that's it for now. What happens after is another story.