chisao
in
thepeak_rp
Starlight
Muses: Huang Zitao (chisao) and San Fonghiu (petalist)
Status: Closed, Ongoing
Date / Time: TBA (no really)
Rating: G
Type: Log to Thread
Summary: Zitao and Fonghiu encounter each other in a different dimension.
From a grassy patch on the ground, Zitao watches the stars rise in a city of clouds on a gradient sky. Like they always do, every single morning, the heavenly bodies glistening overhead make him wonder about other worlds. And like he always does, he laughs at himself and returns his attention to the ground he stands on. So melancholy, this world looks, yet oddly warm and comforting, as blue, violet, and pink washes over the rose-colored grass of the field he cultivates. He smiles at the early morning stars, signaling that it is time to get to work. The empress does not like waiting for her flowers.
"Very well," he tells no one in particular as he stretches his arms and rises from his spot. Kneeling down, he reaches for the flower beside him; specifically, the glass bell sealing it, protecting the sproutling it has been until this morning.
"You are ready," comes the introduction to his removal of the glass jar. Upon contact with starlight, the newborn child, petals shining and stem strong, lets out a loud cry. Zitao grins as he pulls the newborn from the ground and holds it by the stem, happy with the newest addition to the empire.
These past few days there had been a tell-tale tingle at the tip of her fingers and a slight pull with every step she took, it was only a matter of time before the feeling of a thousand ants running up and down her legs would come. It was usually like this when Fonghiu hadn't traveled in a long while, almost like a drug addict needing his fix she mused to herself. She had been so occupied with work this past month, on top of that her cat had accidentally swallowed one of her bobby pins and she had to take the poor cat to the vet. Thank God it's Friday.
Fonghiu put out enough food for her cat for it to last while she's gone after making a call to her boss that she'd like a few days off after the weekend, and with that she's laying down in her bed with a full stomach and empty bladder, making herself comfortable and letting herself succumb to her powers and travel to who knows where.
And that's how Fonghiu finds herself in one of the most beautiful places she admittedly ever had laid her eyes on. There was a breezy wind around her, and the grass on the field danced a long. On the open field there were numerous of beautiful flowers in glass bells, and Fonghiu had to hold herself back from picking one up. Too engrossed in the scenery, she had not taken notice of the young man a couple of meters away from her.
The cry of the young flower in his hand distracts Zitao from the footsteps the grass would have alerted him of. So when he rises to let another child join the kingdom, he is not prepared for what he sees. He jumps in surprise, instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. The shrill sound of metal sliding against a scabbard breaks through the calm air, but he remains silent as he prepares to swing the blade. Slash now, ask questions later, protect the children, protect the empire -- this is what his training dictates, but another second of looking at the intruder halts his movements. His eyes widen as he takes in more of the sight of the figure before him. The strange garments they are wearing is one thing, but there is something else.
Only then does he find it in himself to speak. "Are you... a woman?"
Fonghiu's reaction to the sound of a sword being drawn is a bit tardy, still being totally captivated by the scenery and the pleasant wind making the grass tickle against her bare ankles and her long hair and skirt sway along. But when she actually notices the young man in quite peculiar clothes, Fonghiu remains calm and stays rooted, waiting for him to approach her first. Luckily, when the male speaks up it's in a language she's familiar with but the question makes her quirk up an eyebrow, she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not let out a small laugh.
"I am." There's an amused tone to her voice, and she does not do much to cover it up. Fonghiu almost wants to ask if he had ever seen a male wearing a dress and hair that reaches below their waist, but decides against it and waits for him to speak up again.
Zitao tilts his head as he stares in disbelief, belatedly remembering to blink as more starlight casts on the strange woman and her strange clothes. So peculiar, she is, how she lets the grass-scented wind blow through her hair, how it blows at her garments... how her garments expose her legs like that. He does not remember seeing anyone's bare legs other than his own, but he makes no mention of it. Instead he clears his throat and looks her in the eye, sword still on display while his other hand holds a crying child.
"Which garden did you bloom from?" Pleasant as she might appear, he remains suspicious. Highly unlikely is she a man, but the facts in his head just did not fit together with this one, even though he is sure he is not seeing things. "Might it be a hidden one? All of Dao believes that no woman has bloomed anywhere in the last century."
It has been a while since she has traveled to a place this foreign, last time Fonghiu had ended up in an endless forests and that has already been a while ago. She blinks back at him, one two three times, head tilted to the side and hands clasped together behind her back while trying to not mind the hair that has gotten stuck between her arm and side. The grass tickles and she uses her other foot to scratch her itchy ankle. She regrets not going to bed with socks on.
For a short moment Fonghiu's eyes drift to the glass bell he's holding, and she almost wants to let her curiousness take over and ask about it - but remembers his questions and quickly tries to come up with a good answer. "Oh, I'm.. I'm not from around here, you see." She clears her throat, mostly for the theatrics. "I haven't.. bloomed from any garden."
As if she could not be any more odd, Zitao hears her answer and blinks, trying to process her words just now. Where she could possibly come from, it is difficult to conceive. It is common knowledge that people are sown and harvested. Even the stillborns who do not blossom come from the land. He wonders if she means she is forest-born, a rare flower who survived exposure to starlight as a sproutling.
This could explain the rather peculiar drum with the odd beat she marches to, if how she looks is any indication. Not that it is a bad thing, no. Only very, very strange. "So then," he starts, glancing quickly at the glass bells surrounding them. Just as quickly does he move his gaze back toward her, sword still in hand. If she means harm, she would have made a move by now, he knows, but he wants to be certain. "You are not here to harm the children?"
His answer does not come before the child in his hand hops free from his fingers, landing root first onto the ground. The little boy then walks toward the woman, roots curling and leaves swaying with every feeble step.
The question makes her even more confused and Fonghiu has to fight away the laughter threatening to spill from her lips, the last she wants to do is make the man with a sword think she's ridiculing him or anything in that sense. She looks around, taking in the fact that in this certainly strange world people are not conceived as what she deemed as a normal way - which she reprimanded herself for, because here she was the abnormal.
"Chi-" Upon seeing the flower? child? jump out of his arms and waddle towards her like a toddler, her words come to an abrupt stop and instead with fascination watches the boy make his way towards her. A fond smile blossoms across Fonghiu's face and her eyes turn into crescents before she bends down and holds out a hand for the small child to take when he arrives by her side.
Zitao's eyes widen when he no longer feels the child in his hand, fearing he dropped it, but he relaxes when he finds it walking. Already the boy has the makings of a brave and strong soldier, he observes, as he watches the child reach out to the outsider, something even Zitao has been apprehensive of doing. Until now, that is, as he moves his wrist and sheaths his sword. A smile lights his features as well, when the boy gently sets a small leaf on the pad of the stranger's finger. The child has not developed facial features yet, but Zitao can tell that he is happy. The sound of a child's laughter confirms this; this woman is no enemy.
He takes a few steps forward and bows his head. "Pardon my rudeness." He smiles at her now, both out of respect and from fascination at her expression. Smiles are not unheard of in these parts, but he finds the one she is wearing on her face rather exquisite. "My name is Zitao. What is yours?"
Maybe it's experience from having visited other odd dimensions, that she soon finds herself slowly adapting and taking in the info - the fact that the young man calls the pretty flower children does not make her want to burst out into a fit of giggles, even if the small leaf against her skin does. It tickles. And she wants to pat it's head, but how do you pat a flower without it's petal falling off? Fonghiu decided to not risk it and instead gave the small leaf a careful stroke. At this point, not even the tinkling child laughter coming from the flower freaks her out, it just makes her smile brighter.
Admittedly she has almost forgotten about the male and startles slightly at his voice, and it makes her slowly stand up so she can face the other properly, smile still in place. "Don't worry about it." She waves a dismissive hand at him. "Well, it's nice to meet you Zitao. You can call me Fangxiao." Not sure whether she should stretch out her hand in a handshake or bow properly, Fonghiu merely settles for a simple bow of her head and a friendly smile.
"Fangxiao." The name is easy enough to pronounce, but Zitao still wonders which tribe or clan she might be from. Suppose she is forest-born, he ponders, surviving starlight is one thing, but surely someone had raised her as a suckling. Her household must have done plenty of traveling as well; he could not imagine anything that grows in the forest as material for her garments. But he has learnt that asking people of their origins could make them feel unwelcome. It happens within this empire, so he imagines it more likely for a true outsider to these lands.
"What brings you here?" As welcoming as he wants to be, however, it is his job to at least know what business she has being in this place. Unless they mean to commit a kidnapping for any reason, most people from outside do not concern themselves with the children. But then again, most people are not women. "Are you lost?"
Fonghiu would usually switch between using the Mandarin version of her name to the Cantonese when she was out traveling, always depending on what kind of place she had come to, and she nods encouragingly when he repeats her name. Before she could ask anything about the land, the young man, who she now had a name to match his face, had already opened his to ask more. Her questions could wait, she decided.
"I'm here on vacation, so to say." Fonghiu nods thoughtfully at makes sure to choose her words wisely as she suddenly remembered the sword he bore. "It's my first time here, would you mind showing me around?" Crossing her fingers is all she can do while hoping for a yes. The flower (child) has wandered away to poke at one of the glass bells.
A tourist. While no one has really seen a child of a forest before, Zitao sees no reason to keep them away from the attractions of the city. He would show her the ones outside of it as well, if he could help it. He nods at her response, and again at her request. "Not at all. But after I finish my work here." Zitao then watches his surroundings, looking fondly at the petaled child running on the ground and exploring what he must think is such a vast world. The sight of the boy excitedly drumming his leaves on one of the glass bells prompts an idea. "Perhaps you would like to help me?"
He goes over to the bell that the boy seemingly wants to lift. "Yes, yes, he is ready," he tells the child as he gently coaxes it to step away from the jar. His line of sight then shifts back toward Fangxiao, as does his smile. "You simply have to lift the bells off the upright children, the ones with petals facing the sky." He points a finger heavenwards to emphasize his point. "The bells are a smidgen heavy at first, and sometimes the cries get rather loud, but you grow used to it."
Status: Closed, Ongoing
Date / Time: TBA (no really)
Rating: G
Type: Log to Thread
Summary: Zitao and Fonghiu encounter each other in a different dimension.
From a grassy patch on the ground, Zitao watches the stars rise in a city of clouds on a gradient sky. Like they always do, every single morning, the heavenly bodies glistening overhead make him wonder about other worlds. And like he always does, he laughs at himself and returns his attention to the ground he stands on. So melancholy, this world looks, yet oddly warm and comforting, as blue, violet, and pink washes over the rose-colored grass of the field he cultivates. He smiles at the early morning stars, signaling that it is time to get to work. The empress does not like waiting for her flowers.
"Very well," he tells no one in particular as he stretches his arms and rises from his spot. Kneeling down, he reaches for the flower beside him; specifically, the glass bell sealing it, protecting the sproutling it has been until this morning.
"You are ready," comes the introduction to his removal of the glass jar. Upon contact with starlight, the newborn child, petals shining and stem strong, lets out a loud cry. Zitao grins as he pulls the newborn from the ground and holds it by the stem, happy with the newest addition to the empire.
These past few days there had been a tell-tale tingle at the tip of her fingers and a slight pull with every step she took, it was only a matter of time before the feeling of a thousand ants running up and down her legs would come. It was usually like this when Fonghiu hadn't traveled in a long while, almost like a drug addict needing his fix she mused to herself. She had been so occupied with work this past month, on top of that her cat had accidentally swallowed one of her bobby pins and she had to take the poor cat to the vet. Thank God it's Friday.
Fonghiu put out enough food for her cat for it to last while she's gone after making a call to her boss that she'd like a few days off after the weekend, and with that she's laying down in her bed with a full stomach and empty bladder, making herself comfortable and letting herself succumb to her powers and travel to who knows where.
And that's how Fonghiu finds herself in one of the most beautiful places she admittedly ever had laid her eyes on. There was a breezy wind around her, and the grass on the field danced a long. On the open field there were numerous of beautiful flowers in glass bells, and Fonghiu had to hold herself back from picking one up. Too engrossed in the scenery, she had not taken notice of the young man a couple of meters away from her.
The cry of the young flower in his hand distracts Zitao from the footsteps the grass would have alerted him of. So when he rises to let another child join the kingdom, he is not prepared for what he sees. He jumps in surprise, instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword. The shrill sound of metal sliding against a scabbard breaks through the calm air, but he remains silent as he prepares to swing the blade. Slash now, ask questions later, protect the children, protect the empire -- this is what his training dictates, but another second of looking at the intruder halts his movements. His eyes widen as he takes in more of the sight of the figure before him. The strange garments they are wearing is one thing, but there is something else.
Only then does he find it in himself to speak. "Are you... a woman?"
Fonghiu's reaction to the sound of a sword being drawn is a bit tardy, still being totally captivated by the scenery and the pleasant wind making the grass tickle against her bare ankles and her long hair and skirt sway along. But when she actually notices the young man in quite peculiar clothes, Fonghiu remains calm and stays rooted, waiting for him to approach her first. Luckily, when the male speaks up it's in a language she's familiar with but the question makes her quirk up an eyebrow, she has to bite the inside of her cheek to not let out a small laugh.
"I am." There's an amused tone to her voice, and she does not do much to cover it up. Fonghiu almost wants to ask if he had ever seen a male wearing a dress and hair that reaches below their waist, but decides against it and waits for him to speak up again.
Zitao tilts his head as he stares in disbelief, belatedly remembering to blink as more starlight casts on the strange woman and her strange clothes. So peculiar, she is, how she lets the grass-scented wind blow through her hair, how it blows at her garments... how her garments expose her legs like that. He does not remember seeing anyone's bare legs other than his own, but he makes no mention of it. Instead he clears his throat and looks her in the eye, sword still on display while his other hand holds a crying child.
"Which garden did you bloom from?" Pleasant as she might appear, he remains suspicious. Highly unlikely is she a man, but the facts in his head just did not fit together with this one, even though he is sure he is not seeing things. "Might it be a hidden one? All of Dao believes that no woman has bloomed anywhere in the last century."
It has been a while since she has traveled to a place this foreign, last time Fonghiu had ended up in an endless forests and that has already been a while ago. She blinks back at him, one two three times, head tilted to the side and hands clasped together behind her back while trying to not mind the hair that has gotten stuck between her arm and side. The grass tickles and she uses her other foot to scratch her itchy ankle. She regrets not going to bed with socks on.
For a short moment Fonghiu's eyes drift to the glass bell he's holding, and she almost wants to let her curiousness take over and ask about it - but remembers his questions and quickly tries to come up with a good answer. "Oh, I'm.. I'm not from around here, you see." She clears her throat, mostly for the theatrics. "I haven't.. bloomed from any garden."
As if she could not be any more odd, Zitao hears her answer and blinks, trying to process her words just now. Where she could possibly come from, it is difficult to conceive. It is common knowledge that people are sown and harvested. Even the stillborns who do not blossom come from the land. He wonders if she means she is forest-born, a rare flower who survived exposure to starlight as a sproutling.
This could explain the rather peculiar drum with the odd beat she marches to, if how she looks is any indication. Not that it is a bad thing, no. Only very, very strange. "So then," he starts, glancing quickly at the glass bells surrounding them. Just as quickly does he move his gaze back toward her, sword still in hand. If she means harm, she would have made a move by now, he knows, but he wants to be certain. "You are not here to harm the children?"
His answer does not come before the child in his hand hops free from his fingers, landing root first onto the ground. The little boy then walks toward the woman, roots curling and leaves swaying with every feeble step.
The question makes her even more confused and Fonghiu has to fight away the laughter threatening to spill from her lips, the last she wants to do is make the man with a sword think she's ridiculing him or anything in that sense. She looks around, taking in the fact that in this certainly strange world people are not conceived as what she deemed as a normal way - which she reprimanded herself for, because here she was the abnormal.
"Chi-" Upon seeing the flower? child? jump out of his arms and waddle towards her like a toddler, her words come to an abrupt stop and instead with fascination watches the boy make his way towards her. A fond smile blossoms across Fonghiu's face and her eyes turn into crescents before she bends down and holds out a hand for the small child to take when he arrives by her side.
Zitao's eyes widen when he no longer feels the child in his hand, fearing he dropped it, but he relaxes when he finds it walking. Already the boy has the makings of a brave and strong soldier, he observes, as he watches the child reach out to the outsider, something even Zitao has been apprehensive of doing. Until now, that is, as he moves his wrist and sheaths his sword. A smile lights his features as well, when the boy gently sets a small leaf on the pad of the stranger's finger. The child has not developed facial features yet, but Zitao can tell that he is happy. The sound of a child's laughter confirms this; this woman is no enemy.
He takes a few steps forward and bows his head. "Pardon my rudeness." He smiles at her now, both out of respect and from fascination at her expression. Smiles are not unheard of in these parts, but he finds the one she is wearing on her face rather exquisite. "My name is Zitao. What is yours?"
Maybe it's experience from having visited other odd dimensions, that she soon finds herself slowly adapting and taking in the info - the fact that the young man calls the pretty flower children does not make her want to burst out into a fit of giggles, even if the small leaf against her skin does. It tickles. And she wants to pat it's head, but how do you pat a flower without it's petal falling off? Fonghiu decided to not risk it and instead gave the small leaf a careful stroke. At this point, not even the tinkling child laughter coming from the flower freaks her out, it just makes her smile brighter.
Admittedly she has almost forgotten about the male and startles slightly at his voice, and it makes her slowly stand up so she can face the other properly, smile still in place. "Don't worry about it." She waves a dismissive hand at him. "Well, it's nice to meet you Zitao. You can call me Fangxiao." Not sure whether she should stretch out her hand in a handshake or bow properly, Fonghiu merely settles for a simple bow of her head and a friendly smile.
"Fangxiao." The name is easy enough to pronounce, but Zitao still wonders which tribe or clan she might be from. Suppose she is forest-born, he ponders, surviving starlight is one thing, but surely someone had raised her as a suckling. Her household must have done plenty of traveling as well; he could not imagine anything that grows in the forest as material for her garments. But he has learnt that asking people of their origins could make them feel unwelcome. It happens within this empire, so he imagines it more likely for a true outsider to these lands.
"What brings you here?" As welcoming as he wants to be, however, it is his job to at least know what business she has being in this place. Unless they mean to commit a kidnapping for any reason, most people from outside do not concern themselves with the children. But then again, most people are not women. "Are you lost?"
Fonghiu would usually switch between using the Mandarin version of her name to the Cantonese when she was out traveling, always depending on what kind of place she had come to, and she nods encouragingly when he repeats her name. Before she could ask anything about the land, the young man, who she now had a name to match his face, had already opened his to ask more. Her questions could wait, she decided.
"I'm here on vacation, so to say." Fonghiu nods thoughtfully at makes sure to choose her words wisely as she suddenly remembered the sword he bore. "It's my first time here, would you mind showing me around?" Crossing her fingers is all she can do while hoping for a yes. The flower (child) has wandered away to poke at one of the glass bells.
A tourist. While no one has really seen a child of a forest before, Zitao sees no reason to keep them away from the attractions of the city. He would show her the ones outside of it as well, if he could help it. He nods at her response, and again at her request. "Not at all. But after I finish my work here." Zitao then watches his surroundings, looking fondly at the petaled child running on the ground and exploring what he must think is such a vast world. The sight of the boy excitedly drumming his leaves on one of the glass bells prompts an idea. "Perhaps you would like to help me?"
He goes over to the bell that the boy seemingly wants to lift. "Yes, yes, he is ready," he tells the child as he gently coaxes it to step away from the jar. His line of sight then shifts back toward Fangxiao, as does his smile. "You simply have to lift the bells off the upright children, the ones with petals facing the sky." He points a finger heavenwards to emphasize his point. "The bells are a smidgen heavy at first, and sometimes the cries get rather loud, but you grow used to it."