It tells me that I'm being considerate of the other tiger's part of the mountain. It also tells me that you don't have another one, since you're avoiding the question. (But if you extended an invitation to either, I would obviously accept.)
That is one way to meet a stranger. Why did you want to fight him?
That is one way to meet a stranger. Why did you want to fight him?
Edited (Wording) 2024-01-13 05:14 (UTC)
You're avoiding the answer. I can't invite you to this part of the mountain. [On account of the tiger, obviously. Whose house it may or may not be, but who would probably show out, regardless.]
And even I can't see my house, now. [Maybe she'll forget before he can climb a ladder again.]
Why did you want to compete with him?
And even I can't see my house, now. [Maybe she'll forget before he can climb a ladder again.]
Why did you want to compete with him?
You could. But I understand that you won't, and why. I'll be patient. (You already have one doctor to fuss over you, and I think doctors share patients less well than you think.)
Hmm. Because you made him sound interesting. Though I'll admit that my offer to compete with him was half hearted at best. I was teasing you. I doubt your answer would be the same.
Hmm. Because you made him sound interesting. Though I'll admit that my offer to compete with him was half hearted at best. I was teasing you. I doubt your answer would be the same.
It was around the start of the snowstorm that Fang Duobing first thought things were about to become difficult for them. The snow had added a new ordeal to their daily tasks, one that he was grateful to have headed off as much as possible in all the ways that they could. Di Feisheng's injury had also put an extra strain on them all to be sure, but that was less and less of a concern with each passing day. What he hadn't really realized, however, was in what other ways troubles might manifest.
Li Lianhua's health was never far from his thoughts, but more often than not these days it's all he can think about. Especially on days like this where no amount of coaxing or bribery can get the older man to move from his bed. Fang Duobing knows well enough by now that further prodding is more liable to provoke an argument--making everyone in the house unhappy, rather than getting the results they want; so instead he is standing in the kitchen and burning a hole in the floor with his worried stare. He just... needs more time. If they can just make it to spring, surely his health will... not improve per se, but maybe be less consistently dire. The warm air and sun would probably do a world of good against a cold toxin. But lying in bed all day feels closer to a death sentence than he wishes it was, and futile wishing is all he seems to be able to do these days. There's no Yangzhouman, not for either of them, though not for lack of trying. Maybe he's doing something wrong with the crystal. He doesn't think he is. It's worked for others, so why not for this?
With the frustration reaching unbearable levels, Fang Duobing decides he has to try something or he might just go mad himself. "Hey," he calls to Di Feisheng suddenly, breaking out of his own furrowed brooding. "Come with me outside. Make sure you have that crystal necklace with you." He doesn't pause to elaborate, just grabs whatever weather apparel he has available and heads for the door.
Li Lianhua's health was never far from his thoughts, but more often than not these days it's all he can think about. Especially on days like this where no amount of coaxing or bribery can get the older man to move from his bed. Fang Duobing knows well enough by now that further prodding is more liable to provoke an argument--making everyone in the house unhappy, rather than getting the results they want; so instead he is standing in the kitchen and burning a hole in the floor with his worried stare. He just... needs more time. If they can just make it to spring, surely his health will... not improve per se, but maybe be less consistently dire. The warm air and sun would probably do a world of good against a cold toxin. But lying in bed all day feels closer to a death sentence than he wishes it was, and futile wishing is all he seems to be able to do these days. There's no Yangzhouman, not for either of them, though not for lack of trying. Maybe he's doing something wrong with the crystal. He doesn't think he is. It's worked for others, so why not for this?
With the frustration reaching unbearable levels, Fang Duobing decides he has to try something or he might just go mad himself. "Hey," he calls to Di Feisheng suddenly, breaking out of his own furrowed brooding. "Come with me outside. Make sure you have that crystal necklace with you." He doesn't pause to elaborate, just grabs whatever weather apparel he has available and heads for the door.
[backdated to two days after that mess of a sleepr post]
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fragmentaryblue
2024-02-01 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
The land's sharp features seemed to be
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
Hello again. It occurred to me that I never gave you the rest of this poem, and what a shame that was. This is the second stanza of four. Would you like the rest? I considered saving the other two stanzas for another day, but the tone of these lines sets a bleak mood and does not presently suit mine.
And I thought, perhaps, that should thank you properly for your part in that difference.
The Century's corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
Hello again. It occurred to me that I never gave you the rest of this poem, and what a shame that was. This is the second stanza of four. Would you like the rest? I considered saving the other two stanzas for another day, but the tone of these lines sets a bleak mood and does not presently suit mine.
And I thought, perhaps, that should thank you properly for your part in that difference.
[Why between heaven and earth would that occur to her, is the first thought he has but keeps to himself from an abundance of diplomacy. The rest is harder to pick through, leaves him staring down the device with a pensive frown. Poetry never inspires anything except, in this case, a familiar sliver of dread- pointless, stupid, shamefully superstitious. Even the most levelheaded person by day will feel unease hearing an owl laugh at night, but this is more likely to be a mynah, and this mimicry is apparently not even meant to shiver crickets, much less friends to lunatics. If he's to take her at face value, as much as he can, anyway; bleakness aside, these poetry offerings could mean anything or nothing.]
No need. Whatever I did wasn't for thanks.
Would I like the rest? Two stanzas of winter in four is too many.
No need. Whatever I did wasn't for thanks.
Would I like the rest? Two stanzas of winter in four is too many.
[She couldn't possibly know the extent, but the thought was there--that an abundance of winter is not always welcome to read while in the midst of it.]
If there's no need, then I won't. But you should still know it was appreciated.
You might like the rest, it's hard to say. I don't know your tastes so well as my own, but it has a happier message than the trajectory would imply.
If there's no need, then I won't. But you should still know it was appreciated.
You might like the rest, it's hard to say. I don't know your tastes so well as my own, but it has a happier message than the trajectory would imply.
Edited 2024-02-02 04:50 (UTC)
[His hint that he's not sure what he's being thanked for specifically was wasted, but that is always the risk, engaging in this kind of needless circumspection where he's outclassed. At least she doesn't get offended easily when he doesn't play politeness games. A trait that almost counterbalances sending him poems.]
What exactly is appreciated?
You may as well send the rest, then. Maybe I will like it.
What exactly is appreciated?
You may as well send the rest, then. Maybe I will like it.
An outside perspective. An explanation. It was a difficult day, and I was perhaps doing my own share of ghostly melee. Not among my best moments. I'm sorry you had to see it.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
Edited 2024-02-02 06:26 (UTC)
[As is always the case when he gets roped into their insanity, with time and distance it had seemed a little much. Somehow Li Lianhua manages to sell him on the dangers of their neighbor against his better judgment, just a bit, on occasion. Maybe it would be nice to have a different, common threat, is the (wrong) takeaway. And yet, a fairly justified rude turn is one of her worse moments?]
I didn't blame you. But I'm glad you appreciate it instead of the opposite.
[Which was one worry of his. He couldn't have picked it out as a difficult day, but he definitely managed some awareness that Li Lianhua had not, clumsy as it was and as inscrutable as half their fight remained. Even he isn't going to go blindly digging for more information, though, poem offerings or not.Nosiness or not, more like.]
It's a good enough poem. Not really to my taste though, even if it does balance out.
I didn't blame you. But I'm glad you appreciate it instead of the opposite.
[Which was one worry of his. He couldn't have picked it out as a difficult day, but he definitely managed some awareness that Li Lianhua had not, clumsy as it was and as inscrutable as half their fight remained. Even he isn't going to go blindly digging for more information, though, poem offerings or not.
It's a good enough poem. Not really to my taste though, even if it does balance out.
I'm never so disgruntled as to spurn a reasonable explanation. Especially one made out of concern.
Hmm. What sort of poem would be to your taste? I know quite a few off the top of my head. Perhaps I could offer something more to your liking.
Or we could talk about ghosts. I'll confess, I'm far more curious than I was before about what sort of spectre I appeared as.
Hmm. What sort of poem would be to your taste? I know quite a few off the top of my head. Perhaps I could offer something more to your liking.
Or we could talk about ghosts. I'll confess, I'm far more curious than I was before about what sort of spectre I appeared as.
[That's all fine and well, but there's a thematic axiom for that, too; she could just as easily have been offended, being called the fox borrowing the tiger's might. Having a fight brought to her door and hearing it isn't even entirely for her could have been an insult. But maybe he's the lunatic this time, and their neighbor's martial pride wasn't ever a real concern.]
How can I know without reading it? This isn't a challenge, I'm sure you know enough poems.
That ghost isn't worth the curiosity. And for what else it's worth, I don't agree with the resemblance.
How can I know without reading it? This isn't a challenge, I'm sure you know enough poems.
That ghost isn't worth the curiosity. And for what else it's worth, I don't agree with the resemblance.
[Pride isn't necessarily something that she doesn't have, but she doesn't see why it should be threatened by a ghost. Rather, the ghost should be so lucky to have that comparison made.]
Challenge or not, it does sounds like an invitation to send you more poems. You should give me a topic at least. A feeling, or a color? Something to narrow down the possibilities.
As for ghosts, it would still be nice to know what I'm resembling or not resembling. If I understood the shape of what your friend was seeing, then perhaps we could avoid any future combat of that sort. Wouldn't that be the best for all parties?
Challenge or not, it does sounds like an invitation to send you more poems. You should give me a topic at least. A feeling, or a color? Something to narrow down the possibilities.
As for ghosts, it would still be nice to know what I'm resembling or not resembling. If I understood the shape of what your friend was seeing, then perhaps we could avoid any future combat of that sort. Wouldn't that be the best for all parties?
If you're determined to make it a challenge you'll have to narrow it down yourself.
[Begrudgingly he has to admit she is being fairly reasonable, even if inquisitiveness is still a barely hidden motivation, and even if the tiger squabbles are fascinating and possibly beneficial for all parties, including his. Or would be, without such an unsavory spectre to contend with. But no matter how directly the comparison was made, it just...sticks, in the same unyielding part of his nature that won't let other discrepancies stand, past some line in the sand inscrutable even to Di Feisheng. She's being reasonable, but that can only take her so far, when half the comparison isn't his to make.]
I barely understand what he saw even now. You're no subordinate of mine. If there's power you want, you won't get it by betraying me. Or marrying me into your house. And you enjoy qi too much to want to break my will.
[Begrudgingly he has to admit she is being fairly reasonable, even if inquisitiveness is still a barely hidden motivation, and even if the tiger squabbles are fascinating and possibly beneficial for all parties, including his. Or would be, without such an unsavory spectre to contend with. But no matter how directly the comparison was made, it just...sticks, in the same unyielding part of his nature that won't let other discrepancies stand, past some line in the sand inscrutable even to Di Feisheng. She's being reasonable, but that can only take her so far, when half the comparison isn't his to make.]
I barely understand what he saw even now. You're no subordinate of mine. If there's power you want, you won't get it by betraying me. Or marrying me into your house. And you enjoy qi too much to want to break my will.
[Well, he's being no help in determining his preferences, but at least she's gaining a bit of knowledge nonetheless. The picture that he paints is... chaotic? That might be the best word. Someone had aspirations, but the trajectory of their means sounds tawdry. A base variety sort of ambition. She's seen the type before.]
[Now she feels a little insulted.]
Well, that's quite the ghost to contend with. I certainly don't harbor any of those intentions, though I suppose it won't do much to simply say so.
[There's a notable delay in her texts, a brief pause of thought. Should she say more? He says that he doesn't see it and barely understands it, and she appreciates that candid assessment. But he's also borrowed this lunacy before. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to put even that speculation to bed.]
You're right, though. I'm no subordinate of yours. I have no interest in power (whatever that should entail here), even less interest in men, and I find your willfulness to be one of your most endearing qualities. Frankly, and I hope you don't mind my forwardness-- I was expecting a little better from this ghost. They sound dreadfully common.
However... I can understand his concern. I hope they didn't cause you too much trouble.
[Now she feels a little insulted.]
Well, that's quite the ghost to contend with. I certainly don't harbor any of those intentions, though I suppose it won't do much to simply say so.
[There's a notable delay in her texts, a brief pause of thought. Should she say more? He says that he doesn't see it and barely understands it, and she appreciates that candid assessment. But he's also borrowed this lunacy before. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to put even that speculation to bed.]
You're right, though. I'm no subordinate of yours. I have no interest in power (whatever that should entail here), even less interest in men, and I find your willfulness to be one of your most endearing qualities. Frankly, and I hope you don't mind my forwardness-- I was expecting a little better from this ghost. They sound dreadfully common.
However... I can understand his concern. I hope they didn't cause you too much trouble.
[In the small hours of the morning, a board and two containers of polished wood and bone pieces are wrapped in red cloth and left on a seat on the porch (of Li Lianhua's house). A note is tucked in with the cloth:]
To Di Feisheng:
Please accept these two gifts for the new year-- this board and its pieces. It occurred to me that you might fare better during our matches with some practice at home. I hope the style is to your liking. Best wishes for health and fortune.
~ Iris
[As far as he understands, insulted is a pretty appropriate way to feel. Designating Jiao Liqiao as 'dreadfully common' doesn't begin to return the insult in full, but it certainly is unexpected enough to get a small amused sound out of him anyway. She can't possibly know how funny that is, and he isn't about to explain, and that seems a waste honestly.]
[The rest is just a lot of confirmation and agreement that unfortunately isn't really called for; the lunacy he borrowed was barely adjacent, he doesn't need any of these assurances. He has maintained from the beginning that there's no point in targeting him. She's presumptuous, and weird, and probably some amount of dangerous, but probably not enough of any of these to do real harm for no benefit. Calling him endearingly willful inspires a fleeting expression of distaste but is a great example.]
I warned you she wasn't worth the curiosity. But she caused more trouble than her life was worth in the end. It's for the best you understand.
You're right that just saying so won't do much, but I don't know what would. Maybe there's no need now anyway.
[The rest is just a lot of confirmation and agreement that unfortunately isn't really called for; the lunacy he borrowed was barely adjacent, he doesn't need any of these assurances. He has maintained from the beginning that there's no point in targeting him. She's presumptuous, and weird, and probably some amount of dangerous, but probably not enough of any of these to do real harm for no benefit. Calling him endearingly willful inspires a fleeting expression of distaste but is a great example.]
I warned you she wasn't worth the curiosity. But she caused more trouble than her life was worth in the end. It's for the best you understand.
You're right that just saying so won't do much, but I don't know what would. Maybe there's no need now anyway.
backdated (extremely) to uh Christmas; lol hello, back from hiatus, I am so so sorry but here you go
prontissimo
2024-02-20 11:28 pm (UTC)(link)
[ On Christmas morning, Di Feisheng will find a gift from his Secret Santa. There are, in fact, several gifts from his Secret Santa, thankfully magically delivered by the owls who brought them their assigned recipients in the first place. Because of course his random Secret Santa has no idea where he lives — but does, in fact, know him, just by chance, and went all out with his gifts to impress him. It took two owls to deliver it all...! Evidently, Di Feisheng's luck continues to be either horrible or wonderful with that bizarre kid from the slumber party.
There's a large parcel poorly wrapped with brown butcher's paper and twine; inside, he'll find a bag of espresso beans, nestled between a metal stovetop espresso pot and an old-fashioned wooden espresso grinder, along with a set of four small white coffee cups and matching saucers, plus one (1) metal spoon, all stubbornly crammed in together so that the sides of the box slightly bulge once it's opened. Determination over presentation, clearly...
Beside it, there are three other boxes wrapped in the same plain brown paper, each one smaller and smaller in size, but all tightly tied up together in one willful stack. The bottom box contains an assortment of fresh cornetti, some plain, some filled with cream or chocolate; the next box up is simply half a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries — perhaps a clear tip-off that Meryl Stryfe's impromptu survey was actually a spy at work for Secret Santa, ahem... Finally, the smallest box contains a jar of strawberry jam and a jar of chocolate spread with one (1) metal butter knife shoved in between, just like the singular spoon in the box of espresso necessities. Di Feisheng has everything he needs for a terrific breakfast, and then some.
Somewhere in the mix, though, he'll also find a plain envelope bearing his name in notably poor, childish handwriting:
ｲට: ᗪι ƑƎιᦓᏂɘᑎᧁ
ƑᖇOᗰ: ᗩㄥᗷƎᖇｲට
( ყටᑌᖇ ᦓƎᑕᖇɘｲ ᦓᗩᑎｲα. )
卄αᑭᑭყ ᑕ卄ᖇιᦓᗰᗩᦓ,
ᦓιᘜᑎටᖇɘ! ☆
And within the envelope, he'll even find a hand-drawn Christmas card, made just for Di Feisheng... At least it offers some, uh, explanation about his many gifts. Sort of. Even with clearer context, this child's thoughtful gesture is... certainly... something. ]
There's a large parcel poorly wrapped with brown butcher's paper and twine; inside, he'll find a bag of espresso beans, nestled between a metal stovetop espresso pot and an old-fashioned wooden espresso grinder, along with a set of four small white coffee cups and matching saucers, plus one (1) metal spoon, all stubbornly crammed in together so that the sides of the box slightly bulge once it's opened. Determination over presentation, clearly...
Beside it, there are three other boxes wrapped in the same plain brown paper, each one smaller and smaller in size, but all tightly tied up together in one willful stack. The bottom box contains an assortment of fresh cornetti, some plain, some filled with cream or chocolate; the next box up is simply half a dozen chocolate-covered strawberries — perhaps a clear tip-off that Meryl Stryfe's impromptu survey was actually a spy at work for Secret Santa, ahem... Finally, the smallest box contains a jar of strawberry jam and a jar of chocolate spread with one (1) metal butter knife shoved in between, just like the singular spoon in the box of espresso necessities. Di Feisheng has everything he needs for a terrific breakfast, and then some.
Somewhere in the mix, though, he'll also find a plain envelope bearing his name in notably poor, childish handwriting:
ｲට: ᗪι ƑƎιᦓᏂɘᑎᧁ
ƑᖇOᗰ: ᗩㄥᗷƎᖇｲට
( ყටᑌᖇ ᦓƎᑕᖇɘｲ ᦓᗩᑎｲα. )
卄αᑭᑭყ ᑕ卄ᖇιᦓᗰᗩᦓ,
ᦓιᘜᑎටᖇɘ! ☆
And within the envelope, he'll even find a hand-drawn Christmas card, made just for Di Feisheng... At least it offers some, uh, explanation about his many gifts. Sort of. Even with clearer context, this child's thoughtful gesture is... certainly... something. ]
Edited 2024-02-20 23:36 (UTC)
Wait, that was the wrong one. This one is better.
[...Why is Di Feisheng sending him a-- Oh. Oh no.]
That wasn't for you! Why are you responding? Just delete it and don't say anything.
Better yet, keep it and be grateful. It still doesn't need to be remarked on.
[Crawling into a shaoye-shaped hole and digging deeper.]
That wasn't for you! Why are you responding? Just delete it and don't say anything.
Better yet, keep it and be grateful. It still doesn't need to be remarked on.
[Crawling into a shaoye-shaped hole and digging deeper.]
[There is no amount of digging in the world that will save shaoye now. Grateful?]
It was sent to me. Why wouldn't I respond?
Is this what you do at work all day?
It was sent to me. Why wouldn't I respond?
Is this what you do at work all day?
[But digging is all he has.]
You should have known by context that it wasn't for you. If you received a letter about matters that didn't involve you, would you respond to that to?
I do plenty at work. Am I not allowed to capture a picturesque moment now and then?
You should have known by context that it wasn't for you. If you received a letter about matters that didn't involve you, would you respond to that to?
I do plenty at work. Am I not allowed to capture a picturesque moment now and then?
[Untrue. Clearly he also has a grave karmic burden. Is the picturesque in the room right now?]
I don't see any context. Are you sure you sent it?
Capture and share. Very generous.
I don't see any context. Are you sure you sent it?
Capture and share. Very generous.
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