descendency (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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westwhere2021-08-09 07:53 pm
descendency) wrote in westwhere2021-08-09 07:53 pm
life's tragedies are easy to overcome / 生劫易渡
WHO: resident angel of music and YOU (and whatever hapless bystander is right next to you.)
WHEN: whilst we hustle for Macaluso's favor for our dear Odile
WHERE: some scenic location in the setting sun, romantic and serene
WHAT: mingyu is playing the erhu to set the mood for the sweet(???) budding couple. his song fills the hearts of all those who hear it with aching, bittersweet longing, a yearning to love and be loved, are possessed of the notion that there is no more ideal partner than the one beside you! the effects will linger, ebbing over the next few days, even weeks. oocly this can do whatever you want, it can affect your character a little, a lot, skip over them entirely. whatever is most fun! essentially this kind of magic isn't something mingyu has practiced a lot, so while he can make it do what he wants it to do, his aim is not as... precise... as it might otherwise prove. an airstrike vs. sniper approach to a problem.
WARNINGS: shenanigans
A street musician sets up in a quiet alcove as the sun starts to set over Taravast, waters turning to gold in the fading light. It's a strange, foreign instrument the stranger plays, perched upright in his chair. When he draws the bow, a haunting, mournful note is wrought from the strings, drawing out into a melancholy melody. It's somehow clear as day, as the song goes on. This song is meant for two voices, joined in song, in love, in life, and beyond. That understanding soaks into the audience, able to almost, almost, so very nearly hear the duet and yet there is only the solitary sound of the strings.
It carves dissonance into the listener's heart, a grief and longing that demands remedy.
Mingyu pours himself into every note, shuts his eyes beneath the mask and remembers. His empty bed. The silence. The stillness. He sways with his music, weaving his magic through the air, until it's saturated with his heartache and regret.
The song amplifies existing emotions and plants seeds in barren soil, emotions spurred on by the underlying fear of regret caused by inaction. Those affected will feel driven to do something, anything about these awoken affections, lest the depths of Mingyu's grief become their future.
As the last note of Mingyu's song fades, he stops himself, breathes, counts to ten, and starts a new song to maintain his image as a street musician and nothing more. This song has no magical effects, though his hands are a little clumsier to start. The music smooths out as he composes himself, and he makes his departure after finishing a short set of similar music.
WHEN: whilst we hustle for Macaluso's favor for our dear Odile
WHERE: some scenic location in the setting sun, romantic and serene
WHAT: mingyu is playing the erhu to set the mood for the sweet(???) budding couple. his song fills the hearts of all those who hear it with aching, bittersweet longing, a yearning to love and be loved, are possessed of the notion that there is no more ideal partner than the one beside you! the effects will linger, ebbing over the next few days, even weeks. oocly this can do whatever you want, it can affect your character a little, a lot, skip over them entirely. whatever is most fun! essentially this kind of magic isn't something mingyu has practiced a lot, so while he can make it do what he wants it to do, his aim is not as... precise... as it might otherwise prove. an airstrike vs. sniper approach to a problem.
WARNINGS: shenanigans
A street musician sets up in a quiet alcove as the sun starts to set over Taravast, waters turning to gold in the fading light. It's a strange, foreign instrument the stranger plays, perched upright in his chair. When he draws the bow, a haunting, mournful note is wrought from the strings, drawing out into a melancholy melody. It's somehow clear as day, as the song goes on. This song is meant for two voices, joined in song, in love, in life, and beyond. That understanding soaks into the audience, able to almost, almost, so very nearly hear the duet and yet there is only the solitary sound of the strings.
It carves dissonance into the listener's heart, a grief and longing that demands remedy.
Mingyu pours himself into every note, shuts his eyes beneath the mask and remembers. His empty bed. The silence. The stillness. He sways with his music, weaving his magic through the air, until it's saturated with his heartache and regret.
The song amplifies existing emotions and plants seeds in barren soil, emotions spurred on by the underlying fear of regret caused by inaction. Those affected will feel driven to do something, anything about these awoken affections, lest the depths of Mingyu's grief become their future.
As the last note of Mingyu's song fades, he stops himself, breathes, counts to ten, and starts a new song to maintain his image as a street musician and nothing more. This song has no magical effects, though his hands are a little clumsier to start. The music smooths out as he composes himself, and he makes his departure after finishing a short set of similar music.
no subject
But the music tugs at him, making his throat go dry as he gazes back at Kexing. Stern softens as he sees that sad, lost look in his soulmate's eyes - he can't just leave it like this. So he pushes, other arm moving to smack at his beloved, but a corner of his lips curves upward as he moves.
There is no doubt in his mind that Wen Kexing will move with him. All it takes is a met gaze. When will his silly Lao Wen realize the truth of his own feelings?
no subject
Too late, too late. If you don't do something, it will be too late. It's already too late...
He looks up, to meet Zhou Zishu's gaze. The man's eyes seem to burn into him, lighting a fire that rages deep inside. A wild voice in his head calls out, "Take him and make him yours." Another voice, the one that's been holding him back all this time asks, "How can you deceive him this way?"
Torn between these impossible choices, Wen Kexing does the only possible thing. Lips parted, eyes bright with lust, he swings out a kick in a graceful arc, with the full force of his strength behind it.
no subject
The lust in those eyes steals his breath away - he knows what his Lao Wen wants with him. Hasn't he already offered just that? His smirk grows just a little as he bends backwards to avoid that kick, letting it swing harmlessly over him before spinning away. He senses more than hears or sees people turn to watch, but Kexing has his attention. Always.
But he doesn't answer with a kick, preferring another slash with an arm, feet moving to carry him around Kexing as necessary.
no subject
[ He lets the momentum of his kick swing him around in a circle, as Zhou Zishu moves past like floating clouds and flowing water, indescribably elegant. He leaps forwards again, meeting Zhou Zishu’s arm slash with an equal and opposite one of his own.
Even their fighting is harmonious: the two of them should be like paired mandarin ducks, spending a lifetime together, Wen Kexing thinks to himself unhappily.
When their arms meet, their internal forces collide. It’s enough to shake the tranquility of the canal water, which springs up like a fountain. It’s sunset, and the last rays of the sun illuminate the water, transforming it into a fountain of fire. The crowd oohs and aaahs appreciatively, and there’s even a small smattering of applause.
Between the effects of the song, the exertion, the murmurs of the crowd, and his own disordered emotions, Wen Kexing’s already overtaxed self control gives way. ]
Beauty, don’t deny me any longer, let’s enjoy the pleasures of spring!
no subject
But while Zishu enjoys himself with this one...his soulmate still looks so unhappy. It tugs at his heart before he shoves it aside to maintain focus. The water splashing up so perfectly only adds to their show.
The words his beloved chooses remind him of the roles they're expected to play here - it would be foolish not to maintain some appearances. So he smirks, blinking slowly.
"Take me for a drink and I might consider. I have heard many things of you."
Many nuggets of truth mixed with the act. But a drink...some wine...would be nice. Even if he can no longer enjoy the taste.