westwhere | [Open] I want to feel the fire that you kept from me.

Entry tags:

[Open] I want to feel the fire that you kept from me.

WHO: Zhou Zishu & OPEN! Wide open!
WHEN: His arrival~ Er. Re-arrival?
WHERE: Around. This man likes to wander.
WHAT: He's in bad shape and not able to hide it very well.
WARNINGS: A dying man, deep grief, thoughts verging on suicidal + TBD if any others crop up.

[Blind & Deaf]

The palace spins around him, the voices distant, meaningless. Zhou Zishu goes where he is directed, takes possession of his crystal and tries to swallow the heavy, nauseating fact that he has failed someone else dear to him. His days will surely run out here - wherever here might be - and the one responsible for everything will continue to...hurt others. Continue to lie and cheat and be praised for it.

"I'm sorry, Lao Wen." he whispers, barely moving his lips. He turns his back on the nobility, the opulence and wanders the halls, looking for a quiet place to wait. If he goes without food and drink, surely his end will come quicker. And then...

Will he see Wen Kexing again?

[Garden]

He finds the blooms, the greenery and settles himself at the base of a tree. Moving his body takes effort and he can no longer rest. Sleeping robs him of hours he can't risk losing. Baiyi, his sword, lays across his lap, his fragile (yet still skilled) hands laying across the blade.

The flowers are given a distant smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Maybe he could stay here. Forget a room; forget what they asked of him. Just let him become one with these beautiful plants. And if anyone disagrees, Baiyi will reprimand them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

A chaotic life? Of course that piques Xingchen's interest, though he doesn't ask. He's only just met this man; he can't ask him for his life's story. What if their places were switched and Zhou Zishu asked Xingchen everything he'd ever done? No. Some things must remain a mystery.

That, or Xingchen continues to trust too easily, despite telling himself over and over not to do that. Still, he can't help but think that a wise man would know humility.

But then it's his own turn to breathe out a laugh, lifting a sleeve to his mouth for a moment. "Ah, no, no, Xiao Xingchen is a foolish boy." He definitely wouldn't consider himself wise or, at this point, even a good role model for anyone. He could leave it at that, hope his new acquaintance will let this go, but something compels him to at least give something in answer. His smile slowly fades as he says, "Sometimes I think about the stars and the moon looking down on us and feel impossibly small. It puts any personal abilities or strength into perspective." Humans are just that: Human. Xiao Xingchen wanted to save the world, once. He still does, honestly. But as the years have passed, he knows he can't, especially not on his own. It's sobering, but he breathes in. There are more important matters to speak of.

Even if they're alone here, he still keeps his voice low. "This place is dangerous and something strange is going on inside the palace walls. Be careful." And then, his voice drops to a whisper. "I make no assumptions, but if you are a demonic cultivator, or a necromancer, or bring the dead back to life in any way, tell no one. Their kind is under fierce scrutiny right now."

There are many actions and decisions that Zishu regrets. He might look young, barely verging on thirty, but he has lived a life most elders can't boast. Not that there is much to boast about - especially not to one as gentle as Xiao Xingchen.

"I think you're too harsh on yourself." he observes the other and gets a sense of...

Sadness? Or is he simply feeling his own mood?

"In the great scheme of things, we are small. But that doesn't make us worthless or useless. Your ability to empathize and your kindness are needed strengths." and a small pebble can make great rings in still water. He wants to think that some of what he did made a good difference. He wants Chengling to live in a better world than the one he and Kexing have experienced.

Zishu leans in, cocking his head to better hear Xingchen's warning.

"Have you been threatened?" his brow knits, worried, "No, I'm neither of those. But I have heard about the...rift. Do you know what they have done to gain scrutiny?"

Besides...raising the dead? He assumes that is bound to make a lot of people uncomfortable.

Maybe he's said too much. Zhou Zishu already seems to be able to read him, even a little bit. Xingchen bows his head. "Perhaps." Wei Wuxian told him all those weeks ago that he needs to take the time to forgive himself for the mistakes he's made. Some days are easier than others to try that, but he still hasn't managed to do it. Realistically, he knows he's only human and humans make mistakes, but it's so difficult to accept that. So. Excessive harshness? He'll take it. It's better than being deceived.

"Little encouragements." It's so much easier to speak of kindnesses when he himself isn't the main character in a scenario, when a flower is just a flower and not what rests inside himself.

Ah, but the whole necromancy issue. Xingchen shakes his head; he hasn't been threatened, at least not personally. "Politics are not my strong suit, nor can I speak of the exact reasons why certain choices have been made. I do not have all of the answers. What I do know is this place, not just the city of Taravast, but all of it, has been dealing with undead warlords taking control. Anurr is one of them. He recently unleashed monsters upon Taravast and also controlled any undead within his reach, regardless of who may have raised them." It's a very bare-bones explanation of recent events, but it should cover the necessary points. He hopes. "I imagine the ability to raise the dead, therefore, makes Vannozza and Macaluso understandably uncomfortable, which is why they are keeping an eye out for anyone like that."

The topic is sensitive and he bows his head apologetically - out of habit - speaking a split second later.

"I do not know you. Forgive me for presuming." though let it be known that he still believes what he said. Xingchen strikes him as the sort of man that is too hard on himself when mistakes are made. There is a time and a place to take the blame and to feel guilty. Many circumstances are matters of fate and have very little to do with their personal decisions.

"I wouldn't say what you offer is little." he falls silent, then, listening, his mind still numb from the various shocks he has endured the past few days, "Then I can understand their misgivings."

Zishu sighs then and closes his eyes, gathering himself.

"I will protect Taravast. Should more of these monsters come, I will introduce them to Baiyi."

Xingchen almost reaches out toward Zhou Zishu, his fingers flexing against his lap, but he holds himself back. He doesn't know this man well, or at all, really, and he doesn't touch those he doesn't know. "There is nothing to forgive. I'm not angry with you." He simply hadn't been ready for someone to poke at him so effectively.

Neither is he ready for someone to make such a declaration regarding a city in which they've just arrived. To barely know anything about what's going on and still decide to fight for the safety of a city, that's not something any person off the street might say. Xingchen really can't help but want to know this man better, even if he might be able to get to the root of his own issues without seemingly trying. "We would be lucky to have you on our side."

And yet, Xingchen feels a niggling of curiosity build, even though it really is none of his business. "Baiyi?"

In time Xingchen will discover that Zishu has no aversion to touch ~~as long as no one is trying to strip him down to his bare skin again~~. His features gentle at the reassurance and he reaches for a fallen bloom, delicately balancing the petals on his fingers.

"I wouldn't want a flower to be angry at me." he murmurs and tucks the flower's stem behind Xingchen's ear, "There. A friend to take with you."

As for his intention to protect the city, it comes mostly from instinct, but also because this city houses those like Xiao Xingchen. It bothers him to envision monsters attacking the gentle man, so he will intervene.

"My skills are not what they used to be." he gently reaches for Xingchen's hands and brings them forward, letting him feel the hilt of his sword, "This is Baiyi, my sword."

It's a curious blade that is quite...flexible. But even though it is flexible, the metal is strong and it never seems to weaken even when it is bent almost in two.

Xingchen doesn't have time to properly react to being called a flower - he wonders what kind Zhou Zishu thinks him to be - before one is placed behind his ear. The action is so...simple. Almost silly. He can't tell if he's being flirted with or if Zhou Zishu is just that friendly.

Surely it's not the former. They've only just met, after all, and even though Xingchen knew his face was pretty once before, now with his eyes gone, that has to have been marred, hidden by the cloth or not. He laughs softly and shakes his head, careful not to dislodge this little gift. "How considerate. Thank you." Regardless of the intentions, maybe Xingchen can learn how to dry this flower, keep it somewhere safe so he can remember at least one happy moment from this city that has brought him almost more misery than anything else.

His hands are taken, though, and he lets Zhou Zishu guide them. Immediately his fingertips recognize a sword hilt, even before it's confirmed. Xingchen's curiosity grows and his fingers get a little greedy, feeling the length of the hilt, but going no further. Baiyi is not his sword. He shouldn't be so familiar with it. The blade's presence makes him wonder something else. "Are you a cultivator, as well?"

A white flower - something delicate and gently fragrant. Maybe a peony or an orchid? He would have to think about it. Just about any flower would look nice on Xingchen, he thinks, and, yes, he is being a bit silly but also flirtatious. The blindness doesn't faze him nor does he personally think it detracts from Xingchen's beauty. But he is also aware that the man before him is young, so he wants to be gentle with him and encourage all of the positive attributes Xingchen has already revealed.

"It was meant to be with you." he grins and then guides Xingchen's hands to Baiyi. The curiosity has him handing over the sword; he trusts the other man won't try to cut him down (and even if he did, he would be doing him a favor). The hilt is pressed into Xingchen's hand to ensure he doesn't cut himself on the blade.

"I am a martial artist. I was a leader of many men once, but that has changed. I hope to rebuild what was lost." if that could ever be possible. The Four Seasons Manor deserves to be revived, yet he isn't sure he will live long enough to see it flourish again.

It's one thing to have been allowed to touch Baiyi, but now to have the sword pressed into his hands entirely? Xingchen freezes. Either Zhou Zishu has an absurd amount of trust in the fact that Xingchen won't draw this blade on a relative stranger - which is true; he's been given no reason to need to protect himself - or he doesn't think Xingchen could hurt him.

Or he's entirely too trusting, though Xingchen isn't sure anyone with any kind of training would truly be like that.

Still, despite not allowing himself to get carried away and explore this sword entrusted to him for the moment, he can still tell that it's different from what he's used to. The weight is a tell, for one. When handling Shuanghua, he'd have to exert a certain amount of strength in his wrist that isn't quite the same here. It's less, he thinks, but perhaps more? It's an interesting blade, to be sure, one that must match its master.

Zhou Zishu speaks and Xingchen listens, imagining someone so kind wielding this sword, trying to reclaim something. Gently he pushes the sword back toward the other man. "In such capable hands, Baiyi will surely help you succeed." There is a story here, one that feels heavy enough, but Xingchen does not pry. If Zhou Zishu wishes to share, then he'll continue to listen. Otherwise, all he can do is offer his little encouragements. "I pray you do not give up hope in this endeavor."

There is another possibility, Xingchen; one that might not occur to anyone, really, considering how exhausted Zishu looks. Yet even as he is, Zishu doesn't need Baiyi to take down an opponent. If Xingchen proved himself untrustworthy or tried to steal the sword, he would find himself facing the leader of The Window of Heaven. And that Zhou Zishu doesn't smile or show mercy to anyone.

But he trusts that Xingchen is a good man and so there is no need for him to worry. Besides, Baiyi isn't a sword that is easily used. The flexibility of the blade means anyone who wields it must be swift rather than forceful.

Zishu takes his sword when it is returned and lays it on his lap, unsheathed and ready to be used should anyone trouble them.

"Some tasks require patience. I wish I could bring everything back with just Baiyi." he sighs nostalgically before smiling, "The gods will surely heed a prayer from a man like yourself. If you speak on my behalf, I would consider that an honor."

Edited 2021-11-22 05:43 (UTC)

Wishes, wishes. How easy it can be for things to fall apart and then so excruciatingly difficult to put back together, if it's even possible at all. Xingchen nods his head, acknowledging the truth of Zhou Zishu's words and practically feeling the other man's sigh in his own chest. He, too, has something he wants to fix. Xingchen truly hopes he will be able to, some day.

He wishes Zhou Zishu would stop complimenting his goodness, though. He doesn't know what Xingchen has done and he feels a little fasle talking to him as if nothing is wrong. Wei Wuxian told him he has to learn to forgive himself. Is it acceptable to seek out conversation like this without telling others of the blood on his hands? A warning would be fair, wouldn't it?

Maybe he'll ask Wei Wuxian later. He's been curious how that man managed to bounce back from his dark past and be relatively okay.

...He probably won't ask.

But if Zhou Zishu wants him to put in a good word for him, then hopefully the worst that could happen is nothing changes. For a split second he considers talking to Xie Lian about it, considering he's actually a god, but Xingchen doesn't know what he could really do, especially here, a place none of them call home. Still, he nods again. "This one will do his best."

If what has been lost can be pieced back together in this land, Zishu will help Xingchen. He understands the longing, the ache caused by what was and what could be. No one should pass from this world or any other with regret heavy on their soul.

And, sorry, that isn't likely. Compared to Zhou Zishu, Xingchen is a saint. If the topic ever comes up, the dear daozhang can be assured that Zishu will agree with Wuxian. He should forgive himself and allow himself to begin anew each day. Sometimes that's the only way to retain sanity.

"I would like to see you again, too, if that isn't asking for too much." he tilts his head back to look up at the tree's canopy, "I think I'll frequent this garden daily if I'm able. It feels peaceful."

Despite his own guilt always clinging to him like a shadow or an inner robe some days, Xingchen is able to breathe pretty easily around Zhou Zishu. He shouldn't trust anyone and everyone he meets, but the other man doesn't give him any reason to be wary.

Neither did Xue Yang for two years and look where that got him.

But Xingchen smiles a little. "No, not at all. I would like that. Assuming my cover of being a chef doesn't drag me to the kitchens more often than not." He laughs softly, mood bouncing back little by little. He's still kind of amazed no one has flat-out called him out on his cooking talents, considering they're hardly worthy of a palace. "It is beautiful here, isn't it? Or, well, it smells quite pleasing."

"Are you a talented chef?" Zishu likes that smile and he cocks his head, eyes brighter - though perhaps more fever bright than lively. Xingchen in the kitchens strikes him as cute even if he isn't a skilled chef. The gods know, Zishu can't cook.

"I can describe it to you." he reaches up and catches a leaf between his fingers, bringing it close to see the veins, "My eyesight is dull, but if the colors are vibrant, I can see them."

For now. For now.

"Oh, no." He lifts a hand to wave that thought away, though he laughs a little stronger. "I can cook to eat, but I don't trust myself to season anything, so it all comes out pretty bland." And he'd gotten complaints from his wards about it, but none about going to bed hungry. Some things take priority. Some things don't need to be dwelt upon, either, especially who one of those 'wards' turned out to be.

At first, Xingchen doesn't quite register that Zhou Zishu could really describe colors to him, the details of the world having fallen to the wayside on his own list of priorities, and because it sounds like Zhou Zishu either has poor eyesight in general, or he's going blind. His chest aches for the man regardless of which, knowing all too well how precious eyesight is. "You needn't strain your eyes for my sake. I still have memories and I still dream of colors." It would be nice to hear what the garden looks like, though, to imagine as best he can.

"I wonder if we could fix that." Zishu murmurs, closing his eyes for a moment, imagining what might work to distinguish the seasonings, "If the bottles were wrapped in different textures, perhaps, and you memorized them."

Bland is better than burnt and inedible, which is usually how Zishu's concoctions turn out. However Wen Kexing is the opposite of him. He at least makes sure they don't starve or exist solely off of wine.

"It's not a strain." he reassures softly, "Do you? I'm glad. And since you remember color, my explanations will be easier for you to envision."

Smiling slightly, Zishu then details the tree and the flower bushes around them. He talks about the birds and the butterflies too, describing their hues and how they sing and move. It's a bit like telling a story and he quickly grows fond of finding the right words to paint an intense picture for his new friend. The garden is beautiful.

Zhou Zishu's idea isn't impossible; in fact, it's quite a good one and not too dissimilar from the stamps Chu Wanning had gifted Xingchen recently when it comes to aiding in talisman-making. "That could work. Perhaps I'll look into figuring something like that out next time I have to look professional." Xingchen's problem is simply he wouldn't want to ask anyone to take time out of their day to help with something so superfluous. They have enough problems as it is. Besides, it's a little embarrassing.

His friend goes on to describe the colors of the garden and, at first, Xingchen listens for strain in his voice or hesitation in case he is forcing himself, but he is quickly overcome by the images given to him. From the moment he first came to this garden to find some peace, he knew it would be colorful, green at the very least, but he never thought much more on that. He's seen gardens before, he knows flowers can be so bright or, if paired together in a certain way, emotionally striking. He knows these areas are going to be known for their vibrancy and skills of whoever tends to them.

But to have someone take the time and care to bring him back into the world that left him behind...Xingchen could cry. He'll try not to, of course; he knows his tears can be upsetting now.

Still, the descriptions given allow the images to burst into his mind, lush and rich and more colorful than he's let himself imagine in some time. His lips part in wonder and he doesn't even realize he's leaned closer to Zhou Zishu throughout, as if he could pull more color straight out of the other man.

As the words trail off, Xingchen remains still, trying to memorize this art in his mind. When he opens his mouth to say something, he finds he can't speak right away, so he takes a few breaths and then, voice only a whisper, he says, "Thank you."

"I'm always happy to help." Zishu reminds him, "It wouldn't take long and you're clever." so memorizing the textures wouldn't be daunting either.

The garden is lush and vibrant; green and so many colors, yet Zishu quickly decides that the beauty of it can't match the young man before him. He sees how deeply the descriptions affect Xingchen and a long-dead urge fills his chest. Setting Baiyi off to the side - still within easy reach - he leans forward and gently slides his arms around Xingchen's shoulders, pulling the man, carefully, into an embrace.

If he loses his sight... If he loses his hearing... His sense of touch and taste... Zishu wants to be like this man. He wants to find the beauty in the world, to enjoy it no matter his shortcomings. Xiao Xingchen has taught him that they simply don't matter. A person can be whole regardless.

Zishu's hands are gentle as they hold the other man, not forcing him to stay. And Xingchen's gratitude will be returned, his voice shaking as tears roll down his cheeks.

"No, thank you."

Edited 2021-11-23 07:06 (UTC)

This is not what Xingchen expected today, to be hugged by a man he's just met, and yet he is. It takes him by surprise, but not an unpleasant one. For a few moments he's there, Zhou Zishu wrapped loosely around him, and Xingchen basks in it. A kind embrace, a grateful embrace, there are probably few things that are better. Eventually he brings up his own arms, reciprocating, but also loosely. They aren't close and this place isn't safe, despite how peaceful the garden may seem.

But Xingchen holds him, hears the tremor in his voice, and guesses what else may be happening. It's fine. Everyone expresses themselves differently.

So he stays there, letting Zhou Zishu hold him as he wishes. Xingchen thinks he could sit like this for the rest of the day. It's greedy, he knows. Zhou Zishu undoubtedly has other things he'll need to do at some point and Xingchen isn't going to be the person to keep him from them.

After breathing in and breathing out and soaking in as much of this closeness as he thinks is reasonable, Xingchen slowly pulls back, but not entirely. One of his hands gently searches for Zhou Zishu's face and, upon finding one damp cheek, he tugs his sleeve over his hand to dab at the tear tracks. No comments accompany his action. There's no shame in this, but he'll help his new friend save some face.

Edited 2021-11-23 07:41 (UTC)

He hadn't expected this either! But he has been charmed by Xingchen since he heard him talking to the flowers. It does him good to see someone who has obviously overcome great difficulty living well. But there is more to it than that. Xingchen's honest, humble nature reminds him of those he has lost - disciples, friends, his teachers. Zishu wishes he could hold them and apologize for failing to save them.

That realization leaves him worried for this man. Those who are genuinely good - who are morally upright - tend to be targeted by those who want to use them for their own gain. Zishu doesn't know if he is the right person to look out for Xingchen - or anyone - but he has to try.

Especially after his tears are dried by his new friend's soft sleeve. He lets out a shaky laugh and takes hold of Xingchen's hand, holding it between his own.

"There is something about you that reminds me of home. I lost...everyone." he admits quietly, "I couldn't save them. I think you would have liked my Master." his lips curve sadly, "He was kind and gentle like you."

He lets his hand be held as Zhou Zishu opens up. There's a grief here, between them, and while Xingchen can't relate to that exact situation, he knows what it's like to live with sadness, with something that can't be fixed or taken back. Xingchen doesn't have the perfect words to make things better, either, but he's here and Zhou Zishu has entrusted him with this much - and it's serious, so Xingchen will treat it with respect - so he cups his free hand on one of Zhou Zishu's. He can never be a replacement for what was lost, but he's here. He'll listen.

"I'm sure I would have." If Zhou Zishu is any kind of reflection of what his master's teachings were, then Xingchen is even more certain of it. "If ever you'd like, I'd be happy to listen to any stories you have." To keep him alive in word, if nothing else, though it's clear he's on Zhou Zishi's mind. "But only if you'd be comfortable with it."

He gives their joined hands a quick squeeze, a reassurance.

See? There's that kindness again. Xingchen is under no duress to listen to him, to let him open up to him. But he allows it because he is a good man. Zishu bows his head and touches his cheek against Xingchen's hand, honored that the gods have given him this chance to speak to someone who feels...so familiar.

"When I think of a good one, I'll tell it to you." he promises, laughing shakily. It feels good to be like this; to know the world isn't filled with dark, menacing souls that only want to devour each other. Maybe he can live a little longer.

Just a little.

"I look forward to it." And Xingchen means it. It's been a tough time for him in Taravast, learning the things about himself that he has, but if he has goals for himself or things to look forward to, it makes the days pass a little more quickly. He still struggles. More days than not, it's hard to find a reason to drag himself out of bed when he could easily languish in it. His mind has always been skilled at self-flagellation and his larger sins have made it so much easier to find guilt.

But Zhou Zishu genuinely seems to find comfort in his presence. It would be selfish of Xingchen to take that away from someone who has never wronged him. So he'll push down his poor opinion of himself some more, try to bury it under obligations so it can't rear its head as often.

Xingchen doesn't move, finding that he still enjoys spending time here with this person he's just met, but he also continues to listen and to gauge. A byproduct of his loss of sight, now. He just hears better, whether he's trying to or not. "I could be overstepping and please tell me if I am, but you sound a little tired."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Open] I want to feel the fire that you kept from me.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject