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Entry tags:
Please welcome your resident god ..... street performer?
WHO: Xie Lian, Open
WHEN: Odile's reception
WHERE: Taravast's main Piazza
WHAT: Someone decided Xie Lian was going to perform and forgot to tell him in advance.
WARNINGS: superhuman strength? he is a god, for people who still don't know.
[This wasn't exactly something Xie Lian had done before, acting as the retinue of a mariage hopeful, even in his long, long life. But it's not too bad. The cut of the clothes he chose make him think of Hua Cheng, and the mask is almost oddly nostalgic and reminiscent of his time in Yong'An.
He's not really paying very close attention to the formalities, only noticing that a few of his fellow travelers are putting up quite nice shows, when suddenly someone shoves him and he stumbles into the empty area in the middle of the piazza, and people start applauding and looking at him expectantly.
Well, he's done street performances before, it should be too hard, right? Right.]
Excuse me, do you have a rock?
[The question is met with polite puzzlement before someone brings a polished stone from a flower bed and Xie Lian shakes his head.]
Ah, no, bigger, please.
[Rocks of varying sizes are then brought and likewise rejected with requests for 'bigger, please', until finally three servants struggle to bring in a small boulder and Xie Lian nods.
And then he just picks up the rock as if it weighs nothing and smashes it against his chest where it basically just explodes and disintegrates into small bits of rock.
... Sorry, that's the only public performance he can do right now on such short notice. next time give him some advance warning and he'll dance.]
WHEN: Odile's reception
WHERE: Taravast's main Piazza
WHAT: Someone decided Xie Lian was going to perform and forgot to tell him in advance.
WARNINGS: superhuman strength? he is a god, for people who still don't know.
[This wasn't exactly something Xie Lian had done before, acting as the retinue of a mariage hopeful, even in his long, long life. But it's not too bad. The cut of the clothes he chose make him think of Hua Cheng, and the mask is almost oddly nostalgic and reminiscent of his time in Yong'An.
He's not really paying very close attention to the formalities, only noticing that a few of his fellow travelers are putting up quite nice shows, when suddenly someone shoves him and he stumbles into the empty area in the middle of the piazza, and people start applauding and looking at him expectantly.
Well, he's done street performances before, it should be too hard, right? Right.]
Excuse me, do you have a rock?
[The question is met with polite puzzlement before someone brings a polished stone from a flower bed and Xie Lian shakes his head.]
Ah, no, bigger, please.
[Rocks of varying sizes are then brought and likewise rejected with requests for 'bigger, please', until finally three servants struggle to bring in a small boulder and Xie Lian nods.
And then he just picks up the rock as if it weighs nothing and smashes it against his chest where it basically just explodes and disintegrates into small bits of rock.
... Sorry, that's the only public performance he can do right now on such short notice. next time give him some advance warning and he'll dance.]
no subject
This is a sight for him to glare at, unflinching. What is he to say, then, but this: slowly, pained, careful, parting the seas of the crowd with a sweep of his hand, tsking when the milling multitude of people deigns touching him an inevitability. And finally, he stands close, the false skin of his sculpted mask the day's scant mercy, now slipping.
He teases it away, leaving it to barely cling to his neck by the collared bind of its threads, and he speaks nothing for the longest moment, only... beholding as the boulder's filth rains off Xie Lian without injury or hurt, and Lan Wangji's indignation submerges beneath the fools' chants for more and more behind him.
Indifference suits him before arrogance, misguided notions, intemperate buffoons. This — this earns the twitch of Lan Wangji's brow, the flaring sickness of his impatience. ]
Hail Taravast. Its carelessly injured stand so few, we must add to them.
[ Does Xie Lian, perhaps, think they are in need of incidents? ]
no subject
He waves a little bit but declines further performance, only to fall almost nose to nose with the man.]
.... No one got hurt? And besides, it's all I could think to do on short notice, I wasn't planning to perform anything. Someone pushed me in the middle, and it would have been bad to simply do nothing, right?
no subject
What would have come of a slip, of chants — the same, hollow in Wangji's ears — for more and more, until Xie Lian's claims of absurd divinity might have gone tested for their truth? What if the stone proved its own mettle before him, stunted his flesh, sunk on his bones, destroyed his hands?
...no, Xie Lian does not think of this. He thinks, more wide-eyed fool than most, of nothing at all. It is as if minding the child Sizhui never was, constantly on rampage, seeking his suicide or the death of his peers, through culinary delight. ]
Next turn, excuse yourself.
[ Though one will not present itself. They have played at proving artistry long enough. Surely, their audience has tired, worn its patience thin as spider silks. ]
You are no puppet on their strings.
no subject
[Master Lan, he has already declined to do any more. And also on whose behalf are you getting offended. Before, it looked like you were mad at Xie Lian, and now it looks like you are mad for him instead.]
Did something happen to put you in a bad mood?
no subject
No further reproaches. Only the slow, calculated inclination of his head, the steeled will to hold his eyes' stirring roll at sound bay. Behind, another call for the boulders. Shamefully, his hand nearly heads for Bichen's hilt —
But stays. Breathe. Breathe, then. To Xie Lian, after: ]
...lend hand.
[ For Lan Wangji's two fingers, twined, waiting to lend qi the man — god, does he not name himself? — hardly even requires, at the first sighting of a bared wrist. A man who crushed stone on his body must surely have exerted himself. ]
no subject
But really, what is Wangji going to do here? A man would have exerted himself, yes, but Xie Lian has tried to explain, to no avail, that he is not quite just a man anymore.
He has no scratches at all, and when Wangji's fingers find his pulse, they'll find it beating as strong as ever; And in fact, since he now has more leisure to feel it tha the last time, when he stole the touch, he will feel... a lot more.
The amount of power in there is like a raging sea. It's is all encompassing, overwhelming, almost choking in its sheer quantity. Yet it also feels conquered, the waves not destructive. And there is.... something else. Containing it. Constraining it, almost, holding it down unnaturally.]
... I'm not hurt, really. I've done this a lot of times before.
no subject
His hand withdraws, to the whistling and vocal condemnation of a gradually scattering crowd. They recede like waves, disappointed in the lack of fresh spectacle, for all another performer has jumped readily at the chance to assume Xie Lian's post.
A cruel people, drawn to laughter. He wishes them better than he sees on their faces now. ]
You are no child, to think that reassurance.
no subject
It would reassure you if you simply believed that I know myself enough to know what I can do.
[Sure, Xie Lian is not really a scale to use for measure where 'hurt' comes in, although Lan Wangji has no way to know that as of now. But he hasn't been shy about saying what he is, and as a martial god, this kind of feat is barely effort exerted.]
I used to earn money by being a street performer, and that was one of my best acts. A stone of that size cannot hurt me. You really don't need to worry so much.
no subject
[ Not cold mould and dwelling in the house of his rib cage, spreading dark fungus. Not wonder, not worry, not weight on his tongue. He coexists with afterthoughts like fugue — the man Xie Lian prevails with his foolishness. Lan Wangji narrates his fates with painful, lucid observation and withdraws himself from the universe of their cause and effect.
This can be their arrangement, privately struck, Xie Lian yet ignorant of it. He need say, do no more than he does now: generate chaos to the full extent of his miraculous ability.
As for Lan Wangji, he has called back his hand, the tatters of his interest. Even his frown fills in from earlier, deep-carved indentations. ]
Neglect my objections.
[ As Xie Lian no doubt already intends to. ]
no subject
[Xie Lian would be hypocritical to say otherwise. It's just...]
I just wish you would trust me when I say I am fine.
[So yes, he will not heed the objections because, well, he is fine? But he can't fault Lan Wangji for expressing them anyway.]
You already have Master Wei to take care of. You don't need to burden yourself with me on top of that. I'm sturdy. I won't break easily.
no subject
Wherever here was.
When the final boulder was presented Zuko's eyebrow raised beneath his mask, skeptical that Xie Lian was going to be able to do much with it, without being an earthbender.
A single, surprised chuckle escaped him when Xie Lian crushed the rock against his chest, and he had to clap, at least a few times in appreciation.
After that stunt, he waited for Xie Lian to return to where the rest of the group they traveled with was lingering in, approaching him as he raised his mask enough to identify himself before replacing it. ]
Can you do that with other things or just boulders?
no subject
[And at least, Zuko is no radiating disapproval the way Master Lan is and seems to enjoy the performance for what it is, the same way the rest of the audience is.]
They pushed me in the middle and I just couldn't think of anything else to do. Are you going to perform something?
no subject
It's better than singing, I guess. [ He considered his uncle with a frown. Iroh had earned gold for them while they were traveling towards Ba Sing Se by singing like a beggar - something Zuko had hated at the time. ]
Me? No. I uh, don't have any talents like that.
[ He had refrained from using his bending so far, uncertain how something like that would be received - whether people recognized him or not, the reputation of the Fire Nation was bad enough he wasn't willing to tempt fate. ] I just have swords. [ He felt stupid as soon as he said it, and was grateful for the mask he wore, concealing the way he winced. ]
no subject
[Xie Lian gives a gentle smile to the teenager
who actually looks about the same age as him because immortality at seventeen will do that]They might enjoy a demonstration, but I don't think you have to perform if you don't want to. There's probably enough people volunteering.
no subject
[ Zuko smirked at Xie Lian without actually smiling. Somehow managing to convey a trace of amusement despite maintaining a neutral expression. ]
Besides, I don't see a tsungi horn anywhere either.
[ Not that anything in any world, his or this one, or any other one, would actually get him to play the tsungi horn in public without his uncle goading him on. ]
no subject
[He looks around at the next words, then comes closer to ask.]
What's a tsungi horn?
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[ His eyes narrowed under his mask when the other man stepped closer and he tilted his head to listen to the question. ]
You know, it's kind of shaped like a spiral and wraps over one shoulder, and gets really big on the bottom?
[ Zuko gestured with his hands as he described it. Maybe Xie Lian knew it by another name. ]
no subject
[But the description of the horn does not ring a bell, and he shakes his head.]
Well, we should be fine. that's probably enough performances anyway.
no subject
[ He gestured at Xie Lian's top. ] That? Woven from the rarest thread and swindled off a rival. Pirates talk, reputation is everything.
no subject
[Even at the height of his glory, he's never bene vain or conceited, and the only times it happened was when he was at his lowest point... not a good place to get resources from.]
I'll figure something out.
no subject
[ He gave a little shrug. ]
Or your crew. So it doesn't have to be about you.