( It comes punched, airy, with a quality of dissonance, as if the wires that produce his sounds are rusted, brittle, collapsing. As if he is a lessened version of himself, whittled down with age.
He hears his brother, his sect leader. He must obey, curtain of his hair weed-like and blood-tarnished, hands red and silks rained. He is a horror of himself, no better than Zewu-Jun, and this is how they greet one another.
They have been stolen even the dignity of a proper welcome. )
Will you rest here? ( No. The bribe: ) I have a comb.
no subject
I would wish to.
( It comes punched, airy, with a quality of dissonance, as if the wires that produce his sounds are rusted, brittle, collapsing. As if he is a lessened version of himself, whittled down with age.
He hears his brother, his sect leader. He must obey, curtain of his hair weed-like and blood-tarnished, hands red and silks rained. He is a horror of himself, no better than Zewu-Jun, and this is how they greet one another.
They have been stolen even the dignity of a proper welcome. )
Will you rest here? ( No. The bribe: ) I have a comb.