Another year, another batch of soap making, another round of Three Wishes character-inspired soaps! I admit this year was a bit harried and I almost forgot to take pictures of them. As a result a couple of them were kind of taken in the last minute packaging stage, so I only have a shot of one, but I’m glad I at least remembered before they got sent out!
This year I seem to have inadvertently gone for a priestesses and villains theme. So, here are some notes on what I made!
Qingjao!
When coming up with this I thought to myself, “What would our resident hardcore Imperial Minister of Enlightenment want in a soap?” The answer was “Something everyone would like. It must be good for all citizens while promoting harmony and peace and uniformity. It must be Citizens’ Soap.”
So I went for a very very simple setup - plain white base, no dye or coloring basically no fun at all for everyone. I did however give it a light green tea scent in deference to her enjoyment of tea. Surely all citizens will enjoy the cleansing this soap brings. It’s all one wants in life, is it not?
Meilan!
Of course now we swing WILDLY in the opposite direction for Meilan, genre-savvy, love-naive Suzaku priestess. A cheerful red heart shape was the obvious choice both for her god and for her love for her warriors and fellow priestesses and pretty much everyone. The red mica is nicely shimmery, but I think if I did it over I might add a little glitter to it for her general sparkliness. For the scent, chocolate was pretty dang obvious, something for the poor chocoholic lost in a world where there is no chocolate (SERIOUSLY WHAT THE HELL). I deepened the chocolate scent with a little bit of espresso, also to serve as a nod to her college student status (y’know, when she’s not busy trying to save the world).
Maritess!
Seiryuu priestess, grade school teacher, now in charge of a pack of warriors that somehow manage to be badass and useless at the same time. There’s a very sweet and sour quality to her personality, so I decided to reflect that with a honey-lemon theme for her soap. I used a honey soap base, and then scented it with lemon honey fragrance to give it a little bite. I also feel like honey lemon would be a nice soother for the end of a busy day herding Seiryuu warriors. I went for a deep blue for the color as a nod to her priestess status, and I really like the shimmer it got.
I thiiink at this point everyone who was going to receive soap boxes have received them, so I wanted to share some thoughts on the character-specific soaps I made for this time around. After doing it last year I came up with a TON of ideas for a lot of the other Three Wishes characters, but to avoid overloading myself I only did a few. XD But still, they were fun to make and I hope everyone enjoys them!
Reshmi!
Reshmi, our delightful resident hobbyist thief and seducer of everyone, kinda sorta just had to be a rose shaped soap. XD I wanted her soap to be HEADY, so I went hardcore on the rose scent. To represent Reshmi’s more masculine qualities I added a bit of mahogany fragrance oil, which I think deepened the scent nicely. I did a fair bit of mussing about to get a good red, and I think if I did it again I might mess with the color some more to see if I can get a deeper rose red, but I’m pretty happy with how it came out.
Yuhan!
A lot of things came together really well for Yuhan’s soap. I started with an aloe base (good for burns) and scented it with a fragrance oil based on Black Opium perfume (which, well, seemed appropriate XD). It’s a nice scent, sweet and woody. I did the soap in massage bar molds, which fit in well with her masseuse occupation. I colored them red, of course, and to mix it up a bit I poured the base half red and half clear, with the goal of getting some nice, flame-like swirls. I need to practice the effect and I think it worked out better in some bars than in others, but it was neat to try!
Khanda!
I decided to go with a curry theme for Khanda. So I tried to come up with a color that I thought would be reminiscent of a good curry. The color here makes me think of a rich, creamy curry, maybe with some coconut or cream in it. For the scent I wanted it to be reminiscent of curry spice, so I used some spice fragrance oils and added a bit of clove to try and amp the scent up. I think if I do it again I might try adding in a little actual spice, like a bit of powdered turmeric, which would also give it a nice yellow, I think.
Meg!
OKAY, I was self-indulgent, I admit it. XD But I’m pleased with how it turned out. Superficially Meg’s soap bears a strong resemblance to Shahil’s, starting with a round metallic soap. For Meg’s, however, I went for an almond cream cheese frosting scent - something very sweet, but also a bit bitter. I think the scent ended up smelling a bit like marzipan, which is something I think she would go for. I layered the soap with a layer of deep green in the middle, to represent both her evergreen aura color and her sweet, soft side that she keeps hidden.
I GOT MY KNITTING IN MY THREE WISHES. WAIT I GOT MY THREE WISHES IN MY KNITTING.
Okay so when I saw this flaming red, big, poofy Malabrigo Caracol yarn, I got a bit inspired. Its lovely softness, combined with the flaminess of the color scheme, made me think it would be perfect for a shawl inspired by Meilan, everyone’s favorite squishable priestess.
The pattern I chose had this nice lacey motif that reminded me of feathers or wings, appropriate for a priestess of Suzaku. Given Meilan’s penchant for snuggling and wanting to be warm, I thought a shawl would be an appropriate knitted item to make for her. While the open lacework might not be the BEST thing for staying warm, it might be just enough to keep the chill off in the late summer, when the nights start to cool down and you might want a little something for your shoulders.
It would probably also be a lovely thing to wrap oneself up in and cuddle up next to someone you’re fond of (Hi Xia).
Can you write more of Agni? And him being a sweet puppy? But also with like...a heavy side of angst? Or whump? And suffering? Pleasesandthankyouandiloveyourworksverymuchokaybye:)
HOLY SHIT ANON I’m sorry this took so long! I really struggled with whumping Agni because he’s such a sweetie and doesn’t deserve anything bad ever, but with Z’s permission, I managed it. I hope it’s what you were looking for!
I hope you’re still here. ;-; If you are, thank you for being so patient! If not, well, thank you for the prompt, I really did enjoy it even though I have no experience writing this kind of thing.
Red opened her eyes. All she saw was damp, brick wall. There was a soft murmuring behind her, and she rolled over a little too hard and smacked the back of her bony wrist on the stone ground.
It was Shahil, head bowed so low his chin was almost to his chest, muttering things Red couldn’t quite hear. Every now and then she heard a name. Khanda. Meg. Annaisha. But the one she heard most often was Agni. Agni, Agni, Agni.
And stay with me.
Red stood and sat beside him. He leaned over a bit and pressed his temple against hers, but didn’t speak to her directly. She halfheartedly smiled. There was no reason to, Shahil couldn’t see it and neither of them would believe it was real.
“Tell them I’m back with you,” she whispered. Shahil nodded and added her name to the mantras.
Red collapsed against the cold wall behind her. Agni was on the other side. The others were all in line past his cell. She looked up at the low ceiling that would probably smack even her in the skull if she stood up straight, the tiny locked window the guards pushed food through every few days.
Everyone else was alone. She was lucky – if lucky even meant anything anymore – she could teleport, because since the beginning she kept zapping herself into Shahil’s cell and finally they gave up. Red wanted to pop in and check on everyone else, but her limbs and head were so heavy with exhaustion.
With a soft grunt, she slid down the wall and onto the floor on her side, then gently nudged Shahil’s leg with her scraped up foot and said, “Take a break. You’ll kill yourself like this. Even just five minutes.”
“What if something happens in those five minutes?”
“What could you do about it in here, anyway?”
Shahil didn’t answer. He went back to his murmuring. Red craned her neck to look at him, at his hands where the prayer beads the guards took would usually be. He was counting on his fingers, instead.
Red nudged her foot against him again. “Take. A. Break.”
“Red –“
She stood and limped around and in front of him. Although the psychic connection would be just as strong if she touched his arm, she wanted to make a point, and she grabbed his hands in the middle of their mantra and put them on either of her temples.
Stop, she thought at him, as loud as she knew how.
I really wanted to write something about @cherrysnowclone‘s Three Wishes character Aoi, but I had absolutely NO ideas, so I asked her for a prompt! She asked for Aoi and Shahil battling an enemy, and this is what I came up with.
CW: violence, blood, vomiting
Shahil’s shoulders drooped as Aoi peered around the tracks near the stream by their camp. He blinked hard and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he tried to keep his attention on their surroundings. Shahil had had his blocks completely down for days now; and with the new psychic tethering trick he’d learned, it left him so exhausted his traveling companions hadn’t even made him stand watch at all on their trip back to their safehouse with Aoi’s uncle.
Most everyone was back there, now, only Khanda and Hibiki waiting at camp keeping watch over their things so Aoi and Shahil could travel light. Hopefully they wouldn’t be noticed, but these days were dangerous for the god-wounded and their allies, for both bounty hunters and soldiers alike were out for their blood.
Aoi’s head jerked up and he was still. He put a hand on Shahil’s leg above his boot and pushed a thought through: be still and be silent. Three enemies in front of us. I don’t think they see us yet.
I started this way back in June of last year, and before I fall into an editing black hole, I’m declaring it finished!
I present fourteen stories exploring everyone’s favorite grumpy time-manipulating mechanic, each story inspired in one way or another by Mary Fahl’s album The Other Side of Time. Aside from the sheer perfection of the album title, I think Mary Fahl’s deep, sometimes brooding voice works well for Meg’s demeanor, especially in some of her darker moments.
This gave me a really good opportunity to explore a lot of facets to Meg, from her angstmuffin moments to her reckless moments to her happy moments to her downright dorky moments. There was a LOT I learned here. And I’m rather proud of the fact that I got to explore her relationships with all the Selan kids - everyone has at least one story where they feature prominently.
SO BUCKLE IN KIDS HERE WE GO.
1.) In the Great Unknown
2.) Going Home
3.) Want To
4.) Ben Aindi Habibi (Warning: Gun violence)
5.) Redemption
6.) Paolo
7.) Una Furtiva Lagrima
8.) The Other Side of Time
9.) Raging Child
10.) Annie Roll Down Your Window
11.) The Station
12.) Kindness Can Be Cruel
13.) Dream of You
14.) The Dawning of the Day
(Bonus tidbit: While writing #4 I was listening to a lot of the Drakengard 3 soundtrack. I think the melody used in the song for the final battle ended up heavily influencing the format of the story, so I guess that one has two bases for inspiration. XD)
As some already know, every late November/early December I roll my sleeves up and make a bunch of soap and other bath things to give as gifts. This year I happened to be struck with inspiration and decided to try my hand at some character-inspired soaps. Kind of random, I know, but blame Aoi. XD
I was only able to do three this year, but I have ideas for others! I thought of doing this after I had already placed my supply order and had to make do with what I had available, but I think they turned out okay! I’m posting some pics for posterity and to help explain the choices I made.
Aoi: Our resident Nakago is awfully convenient in that with a symbol meaning ‘heart’, it was very easy to get ahold of a mold that reflected that. XD SO AOI GETS SOME BLUE HEARTS, BECAUSE OF COURSE. They’re scented with primarily a ginger ale scent, reminiscent of Aoi’s fizzy, cheerful personality (that isn’t always sweet, but is still warm and likeable). Or reminiscent of the way he fizzles out when he overdoes it, if you’d prefer. I also added a little bit of lemon to add that extra touch of angsty sourness that lurks in Aoi’s background.
Shahil: I wanted to do something with a little bit of duality for Shahil to reflect how the standoffishness he presents, especially in his early days, doesn’t reflect his real personality. I chose silver, both for his metalworking background and because at first glace you might not know what to do with this - is it metal? Is it soap? Get up close, though, and it’s all sweet, warm goodness. I chose hazelnut toffee as a scent to complement Shahil’s warm, huggable personality.
Agni: Because of course if I’m gonna do Shahil, I gotta do Agni too! <3 I chose gold for the color, both as a complement to Shahil’s soap and to reflect Agni’s wealthy background, making the soap come off a little like a bright gold coin. Like Shahil’s soap, though, it’s when you get up close that it reveals its true nature. Also like with Shahil’s soap I wanted something warm, but I wanted to go for something more spicy and refined than sweet. Agni’s scent is a combination of sandalwood and clove, with a little bit of cinnamon thrown in for good measure.
“Yeah, no duh!” Well I’m just making it official so that I can stop feeling like a mega-shitty GM. I’m currently being overwhelmed on multiple fronts and I need to try to get that under control, instead of trying to write something and coming up with nothing because I keep thinking about how overwhelming everything else is.
I have a sleep study in a few weeks that I hope will help a lot health-wise, and then a week off in January, so my current plan is to re-group writing-wise maybe mid-January and have stuff ready to work on for the February creative month we were tentatively talking about in chat.
Takes place about a year before game time, just after Aoi revealed himself to be Nakago. He didn’t consider it at the time, but his action ended up having hard repercussions on both his best friend, as well as his fathers. Takes place at the Nakakawa estate, in western Kutou.
Some people of the house lingered in the courtyard, enjoying their dinner from the hilltop gardens, but most of the estate’s staff had started to withdraw into interior rooms, to enjoy the temperate spring air from the comfort of a window. Likewise, the two lords of the estate occupied a small but cozy writing room, one side open to the beautiful countryside, and the other adjacent to the Nakakawa estate council chamber. At this hour, they should have still been holding assembly, to check in on the village elders and the dockmasters. But the day’s meeting had been called off. The lords at Nakakawa were occupied with graver concerns.
Mikiya sat upon the tatami mat, while Hatori stood by the sliding door to the outdoors. Though sitting, his gaze followed after Hatori’s, out to the orchards and to the grassy fields beyond. Fields cordoned off for horseback training, or for archery, or other military pursuits, had stayed still all day. Rest days and recreation were unknown to soldiers training at Nakakawa, yet the trainee troops had all disappeared two nights ago, down to the coast. Their commanders had said no word when they left, which at best was disrespectful, but at worst...
Hatori crossed his arms and frowned anew over their land. His poised, hawkish face had followed the sun as it faded into the distant west. The damn man could stand there, calm and unharried, for days if he liked. He hadn’t spoken his thoughts for hours, just stood around in contemplation.
Mikiya, on the other hand, could not find a distraction that held him for more than a few minutes. He sat cross-legged at the oaken tea table, but he had forgotten to drink the tea while it was still warm. One of his journals sat before him, and his pen and his ashtray, as well as his box of smokeweed. His long bamboo pipe hung from the corner of his lips, occasionally forgotten as well. He’d tried reading a historical novel, but now just slammed the thick tome back on the table. “I can’t focus on this bullshit.”
“Have peace, Mikiya. What news there is, it seems we will know soon.”
The smoking lord chuckled darkly. “How many hours you’ve been standing there thinking that?”
“Only just now.” Hatori reached forward, and slid the bay door closed against the night wind. Just before it shut, a blurred shadow darted through the narrow opening, perhaps to an outsider seeming like a cat dashing indoors., But no - within a moment, a young woman, dressed in a drab, old kimono, was before them, and bowed deeply to the two men. Her long brown hair swayed in a braid at her side.
“Mio.” Hatori tilted his head at the ninja. “You’ve returned with speed.”
When the soldiers left two days ago, a clumsy handmaid accompanied the troops to the coast. Mio, uncertain and meek by nature, would not have raised anyone’s suspicions - but even as a knave in the art of ninjitsu, there were few who could rival her raw speed and her ear for eavesdropping. She served their estate for just a year, but well proved herself in that time.
Yet, Mikiya could not recall a time she looked as harrowed as she was now. Her cheeks were red as apples, and her hair unsmoothed, and her feet and hands rough with dirt. She never presented herself to them as this before. He drew deeply from his pipe.
“My lords, as fast as I could, though perhaps not fast enough. You are both in danger.”
“Danger? Is this related to the mobilized troops?”
“Not directly, but soldiers approach, as well as-”
“My son,” Mikiya interrupted.
Mio looked at Mikiya, passing a concerned glance over his rougher-than-usual beard, his fuming pipe, his tense knuckles upon the tabletop. “Ah...of course. What do you know already, my lords?”
Hatori answered her. “Very little. The soldiers training here left no word as to why they left. None of my official contacts in the capital will respond to letters, nor to couriers. Unofficially, we learned that the Palace is in disarray, but none will tell us the cause.” He refolded his arms over his chest. “They refuse to comment upon Aoi altogether.”
She looked between them, and her shoulders wilted. “It is difficult news, my lords.”
“We’re not fools.” Mikiya’s breath as he spoke parted some of the heavy smoke around his face. “Something happened to our son.”
“Mio,” Hatori said, goading and firm.
She cast down her eyes. “It was two nights ago. There was a disturbance at the palace, within the Palace soldiers’ mess hall. A surprise attack.” She paused, and struggled for words. “Lord Aoi...he was…”
Mikiya slammed his fist on the table. The thunderous sound interrupted Mio, and scattered the ceramic ashtray and teacups upon the tabletop. “If our son is dead, say so!”
The young ninja flinched, and looked upon Mikiya with clear horror. She held her breath for a moment, trying to compose herself. A breath before Mikiya lost his patience again, she found the means to steel herself, drawing herself straight up, and spoke firmly. “Sirs...Lord Aoi is missing. No one knows if he is dead or alive. But the Ministry’s position is to act as if he is alive.”
“The Ministry?” Hatori said.
Mikiya sputtered at nearly the same time, “They don’t know?”
The young woman looked between them, then decided to focus on Hatori. “Yes, the Ministry of Defense. They are coordinating the search for Lord Aoi with the Empress’s army, as well as Kutou’s local forces.”
“The Ministry would not concern themselves with a missing soldier, not even a Palace captain.” Hatori’s eyes narrowed. “They concern themselves with political enemies, and traitors to the crown.”
“Yes, Lord Hatori. Yesterday morning, after evidence was presented to the Empress, Lord Aoi was declared an enemy to the crown. He is the Ministry of Defense’s top concern at the moment.”
Mikiya banged his fist against his table again, though not so strongly as before. “All this, and you know nothing of his whereabouts, or his state?”
The ninja only bowed her head, “I beg your pardon, but I have nothing.”
“Regardless. The Empress responded very quickly, it seems,” Hatori said carefully. “What was his crime?”
“Religious treason, my lord. He attempted to rally his fellow soldiers under the cause of Seiryuu, and when they refused, he attacked them,” Mio knotted her hands nervously while she spoke, “He claimed to be an avatar of the gods.”
For the first time, Hatori appeared startled. “No…”
She bowed her head. “There is no mistake. At the palace, Lord Aoi declared himself to be a piece of the dragon. Nakago.”
Hatori rocked back, suddenly uncertain on his feet. Mikiya, on the other hand, shot up from his seat on the floor, pushing past Hatori and pointing an interrogating finger at the ninja.
“We want to know about the state of our son, and instead you lay these fool’s tales at our feet!” His eyes glowed, he shook in anger from head to foot “Who means to mock us with these false accusations?”
Hatori put his hand on Mikiya’s shoulder, and pulled him back. “Mio, it was a Minister you heard say this? No less?”
“Yes, in conference with the Governor and a commander from the Palace.” She looked nervously upon Mikiya, glowering over Hatori’s shoulder, and sunk her head low. “And I’ve heard it whispered among others, sailors and soldiers alike. While it is extraordinary, the accounts are consistent. It is true, so far as anyone can tell.”
“And your brother within the palace, did he confirm this as well?”
She paused, then bowed her head. It was poor form to rely on other ninjas for information, even a brother, but she would be the type to want to cross-check her information. “Yes, sir. Shiori was not witness, but he said the Ministry is treating the accusation with the utmost sincerity.”
Mikiya looked between Mio and Hatori - he thought there was no way either could believe this hogwash, yet, both looked stricken. The other lord had paled perceptively, but his thin lips remained pursed straight, and he stared down at the ninja.
“Do people believe him to be a seishi?” Hatori asked.
“Some, maybe. Nobody really knows what it requires to be one.” She shook her head, as if confused. “I don’t know.”
“Did they speak of a bright symbol on his person?”
A flicker of surprise lit her eyes. “Yes, my lord. They said his forehead glowed.”
“And the shape of it? I know you would remember it if you saw.”
Mio nodded, and drew out the shape of it in the air. It wasn’t a symbol that Mikiya recognized from the modern script - if anything, the symbol she drew resembled the silhouette of a human heart, composed of broken lines. While Mikiya couldn’t make heads or tails of it, Hatori’s breath tightened into a gasp. He stared at Mio harshly, as if seeking deception upon her face. Then he stiffened, and turned sharply towards his writing table against the wall. He shifted through his pile of papers until he found a blank, and once he had inked his brush, Hatori knelt down and started writing.
Fine. Mikiya turned away from him, and to Mio instead. She pensively looked after Hatori, and when she noticed Mikiya focused on her, she squeaked and folded herself into a stiff bow. Mikiya considered her for a moment, then sighed deeply. He loosened his hands out of their fists, and instead fussed with his pipe. It could do with being relit, so he focused his large, uneasy hands on the task of striking a match.
“Lord Mikiya, I–”
“You are completely unsure if he is alive or dead?” Mikiya asked, cutting her off. He struck the match, and met the flame to his pipe. “I find it unlikely he could insult the Empire so greatly, yet still live.”
She nodded again. Mio stood upright, but still avoided his stare. “They said he dove into the ocean to evade capture. Patrols have been at the shores, but nobody has found him.”
“Hm.” His pipe relit, Mikiya took a fresh draw of smoke from it, and considered. At least that answered the question of why the trainees at this estate were withdrawn. The Kutou coast spanned a great expanse of land, and they must have needed every available hand. Two days at sea could have carried Aoi quite far. The eastern sea was tumultuous, and could have churned him out at any corner of Kutou, not to mention all the islands in-between.
Mikiya spoke to her again. “Where did you find the governor? At the beach?”
“I came upon them on the road, as they were returning inland to this estate, sir.”
“How far out is the retinue?”
“Two hours until they arrive here.”
Mikiya hissed out a smokey breath. “Shit. Count?”
“Only twenty-five originally. But this afternoon, they were joined by three hundred armored soldiers from the capital, sir.”
“That is overkill,” he snapped, speaking around his pipe. He wore a sheathed short-sword at his side, and his broad fist flexed and unflexed slowly over its handle as he considered this news. “Even if all the able villagers helped, we would not be able to resist over a hundred of the governor’s soldiers.”
“I know,” Mio said. ”But they fear Lord Aoi may have already returned here.”
“Is that the exact reasoning they gave for calling the guard? Nothing more?” It was no secret the Empire desired complete control of Kutou’s central river delta, including the land the Nakakawa owned, but Mikiya had not believed they’d try to make a move on it during his lifetime. The Ministry of Defense was a flock of dumb posturing peacocks, but they were opportunistic, and a good handful of them would preen at seeing the Nakakawa lords brought down.
“Nothing else, sir,” Mio simply confirmed.
Mikiya looked to Hatori, to see if he had reacted at all to these details, but the other lord remained kneeled at his writing desk, focused on his paper. He barely moved, only his practiced hand floating over the page, no doubt that his penmanship would be flawless even in this time of distress. Mikiya paced around, gnawing the end of his pipe, letting fresh smoke fume out of his nose and mouth.
“About Aoi. You said he attacked a group of soldiers?”
“He is said to have knocked out a mess hall of soldiers, at least 30 of them.” She sucked in a breath and looked at Mikiya, like she expected him to outrage again. When he didn’t, she continued. “The unit that arrived as reinforcements saw the room of soldiers unconscious, and then saw Lord Aoi dive into the sea from a balcony.”
“What did the attacked soldiers have to say, when they recovered?”
“They remembered nothing, save for Lord Aoi’s announcement of being Nakago.” She laced her hands in front of her - she was obviously uncomfortable with this grilling, but she would have to tolerate it. “They do not remember seeing their fellows fall. It seems they were all incapacitated at once.”
“That is ridiculous. One man cannot do that, no matter how skilled.”
“The governor said the same thing. But the palace commander was resolute in her position, and claimed she kept witnesses to the act. Why she would not explain the means of attack to the Governor, I don’t know.”
“Hm. Sounds like there’s a piece to this story the Empire wants to keep secret.” Mikiya chewed hard on end of his pipe, no longer even sucking in the smoke. It seemed like the Empire wanted to keep secret how Aoi took down those soldiers - perhaps it was even a classified piece of technology. A weapon? The concussive force of a cannon, perhaps. Mikiya scratched the side of his beard. The boy had a talent for guns, but the soldiers were merely knocked out, not blasted through. Perhaps a chemical of some kind...
Mio put a hand on his forearm, startling Mikiya out of his thoughts. He hadn’t really been paying a lot of attention to her state, save for her nervousness, but her eyes were tinged red and focused intently on him. “I am reporting what I hear about him, but surely they are mistaken, my lord? Lord Aoi is very kind, and so proud of his military service. He was beloved among the palace regiment. He would never attack his fellows.”
Mikiya scowled. “Even the best soldiers snap. It’s hard to guess who can take the pressure and who can’t.”
The young ninja’s face fell, and she drew her hand over her heart instead. “Do you believe he did it then, Lord Mikiya?”
He put his pipe aside, his comfort in it exhausted. Of course a parent shouldn’t believe that their child was capable of such foulness, but Mikiya knew himself to be a creature of cynicism and doubt. “It doesn’t matter what is true, only what the Governor believes. If they believe he is a traitor, then we should anticipate the worst.”
Hatori shoved himself up from the writing desk. He turned to the ninja with his paper already folded tightly and sealed in a wax cloth. His face was utterly unreadable, his narrow lips drawn tight and his eyes focused upon Mio.
“Return to your master with this letter.” Hatori did not only give her the message, but also a purse, small but weighty. “After that, you are dismissed from our service.”
“My lord!” she cried. The young woman looked from him to Mikiya, as if the other lord might intervene.
Mikiya had guessed this was coming. Instead of protesting against Hatori, he untied one of the smaller sashes around his torso, the sash that held his short sword to his side. A bright green emblem marked the leather - the three-slashed insignia of the Nakakawa estate.
“You will take this as well. This is proof of my authority,” he said, holding the sword by its sheath out to Mio. “You will leave here right now, and you will use this to gather our staff and rally them to the dock. Take every boat you can to escape down river - burn any you do not use. No one is to return to this property unless I personally arrive with news, and do not let the people trust relayed instruction. The Ministry would use any hostage against us, including servants.”
“Will you not follow?”
“If the capital does not find us here, they will rip through the villages to find us,” Mikiya said. “We will surrender.”
“Lord Hatori,” the young ninja seemed at a loss for words. “My master...your brother can–”
“Gensai will do nothing, except watch over his own.” Hatori looked upon her sternly. “We are the lords here. And Aoi is our responsibility.”
“Lord Hatori, please...” she begged. Gensai, her master, taught her that a ninja was objective, a tool to their lord, but she could not help her emotion now. Mio was young, and had admired Hatori and Aoi so dearly. Despite himself, Mikiya found pity for her.
“I will not be foolish enough to hope. But if you see my son, there is a message you can convey on my behalf.” Hatori spoke evenly, and without affection. “‘Fall from a taller tree next time.’”
“I...Of course, sir.”
“Get a move on, Mio,” Mikiya said, gentle as he should have been this whole time. He even winked. “You’ll see us again, I promise.”
“Sirs.” She knelt for a moment, the short sword clutched to her chest, her head deeply bowed. “Heaven protect you both.”
Then, she bolted out of the room, throwing open the thin sliding door out into the council room. He could hear the meek ninja suddenly yelling, banging on furniture, rallying the staff. Two old maids watched Mio bolt past, then looked down the corridor from where she had come and spied Mikiya. He dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and closed the screen door to the hall.
“Well, that was about the worst that could have gone,” Mikiya said. His leg bumped against his tea table, and he spared a moment to right the ceramic cups he had knocked over earlier. He combed his hand through his messy peppered hair and tried to order his thoughts. “Less than two hours to work with, so we’ve got to-”
Behind him, Mikiya heard a heavy crash. Hatori collapsed, falling from where he stood down to his knees. His letter knife was in his hand, and he contemplated its silver edge with a harrowingly cold glint. Mikiya didn’t even think. He threw aside the low table between himself and Hatori, he dove towards the other lord.
“Hato!” Mikiya knocked the blade away with the back of his hand. His other hand pinned Hatori’s dominant hand to the ground, so he wouldn’t think of grabbing anything else. “You bastard!”
Hatori stared at the knife, now at the other side of the room, then bore his empty eyes upon Mikiya. “Seiryuu. It knows my sins, and the sins of my blood. It has judged me.”
“The hell are you talking about?”
“I prayed for its help, even though i was not worthy. I took from the dragon, and it has taken of me. It chose Aoi for its divine vessel as retribution.”
“We have no evidence of that. Hato!” Mikiya grabbed Hatori by the front of his robe, balling the cloth in his fist. “Come to your senses!”
Something of that pierced through Hatori’s stupor - he smashed his hand against Mikiya’s chest, shoving the other lord back. “You come to your senses! We saw him last summer, and he would not bare his forehead to us. Even you commented on the strangeness of it.” Hatori’s lips were drawn in a tight snarl; his eyes smoldered. “They say, of Nakago: the dragon’s heart is ruled from its mind. That mark is no coincidence.”
“Hato, that is still not proof–”
“Do you still not understand? I brought this down on him!” Hatori raged. “I prayed to the dragon to intervene in Kutou’s troubling affairs, and it answered cruelly. Seiryuu revealed its wrath to the Empire, and made a martyr of Aoi to do so.” Then his shoulders shuddered, and he dropped his face into his palms, his fingers digging into his temples. “I’ve killed him, our son…”
Mikiya moved in again, clutched Hatori around the shoulders. His anger spent, Hatori could support himself no better than a bag of rice could. Mikiya held him upright, while Hatori moaned and laid curses upon himself.
How could Hatori be so indisposed? Mikiya could not understand, but he never had. To him, the dragon myth was nothing more than bullshit stories people told to each other in order to feel like they have some power over their kings. Only weak people waited for mythical heroes to walk in and solve their problems for them. To Mikiya, it was the most maddening part about Hatori - that a man so smart and so talented still prayed to ancient phantoms for salvation. He cared little if people betrayed him, yet shattered himself now over the thought of his god’s abandonment.
Mikiya held fast to Hatori, and tried to think. His eyes drifted over the walls of the reading room, until they caught on a dark silk coat, displayed with arms wide upon the wall above the writing desk. It belonged to the old man, Reizu. His black-silver katana were buried in the forest with him, but the dead general’s favorite haori hung on the wall ahead, a persistent reminder that he was still with his estate in spirit. Mikiya squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t ever found a god he ever cared for, but at times like now, he drew upon the image of his dead mentor. He wished for nothing more than the old man’s crooked grin, his dark jokes, his ever-true advice.
Mikiya remembered, nearly thirty years past, Reizu’s spindly finger as it pointed across the archery yard to Hatori. “That one thinks as well as he shoots. As long as he has a clear sight line, he can guide true. But in the darkness of uncertainty, he is blind, and he loses himself.” The old man was not a month away from death’s door, but still commanded himself with strength, clarity. His coal black eyes burned upon Mikiya. “Not so with you. You thrive in the immediate, the uncertain. When his sight becomes crowded, you must take charge, and clear the way again.”
Darkness and uncertainty, that certainly applied now. Mikiya sure didn’t feel like he was thriving, but he did know he had to do something. Mikiya carefully shook Hatori’s shoulders, attempting to stir him from his misery.
“Hato, you must rally yourself. We have little time left, and much to do,” Mikiya faced his partner square-on as he spoke. “We’ll burn what sacrilegious things you’ve kept, and my journals, and then lock away what treasures we can in the mausoleum. Give them less to persecute us by.” His hand reflexively went to rest upon the sword at his hip, only to find it was no longer there. Mikiya’s forehead creased, yet he continued. “This will not be the end of the Nakakawa legacy.”
For the first time Mikiya could remember in their long lives together, tears threatened at the corners of Hatori’s eyes. “But it is the end, if Aoi has died.”
Mikiya planted his hands over Hatori’s shoulders, to support him, and to make him listen.
“I can’t tell you with certainty that he isn’t dead.” Mikiya kept his voice strong. “But they are coming after us. They continue to search the coasts. They believe he is alive, and more importantly, they think he is a threat. You heard that three hundred elite soldiers approach? If he is out there, they believe he has a way to resist their forces.”
“Miya, treachery is the most severe crime, so far as the Empress is concerned. If they find him, they will execute him immediately.” Hatori pressed his thumbs to his face, pushing away the tears. “Even if our son is alive now, he cannot stay so for long.”
“You have better faith in him than that. If that boy escaped, and weathered the ocean’s current, then there is no reason at all to believe him dead or captured. You trained him to survive in the wild yourself!” Mikiya watched his partner consider this, saw some light return to Hatori’s dark eyes. “Think. You know we raised him to be resilient and unpredictable, if occasionally clever.”
Hatori shook his head slowly. “Perhaps you are right - we cannot know. But even if he lives, you are in grave danger if you remain. Though you are beloved by the people of this delta, I doubt that will save you from the Empire’s wrath for long.”
“Well, hopefully your few decades of serving the capital means something to them.”
Hatori bowed his face low. His long, silver and black hair, thrown loose from its bun, shifted as he downturned his face. “They will believe me to be a traitor as well.”
Mikiya sighed. “Well, we can’t help what they decide to do to us. We can only do what we can to preserve this estate, and to protect the villages.” He tilted Hatori’s chin upright. “Beyond that...if we hope to see Aoi again, or at least hear news of him, then we must endure. Remain quiet, but refuse to give anyone the satisfaction of our death. We will bide our time as long as we can.”
Hatori’s eyes steeled. “No. You must go. I cannot lose both of you.”
He couldn’t help it–Mikiya actually laughed. “I am also lord here, Hato - how many times do I have to remind you of that? You’ve been trying to get me to leave this place since we were boys, and it sure as hell won’t work now.”
But Hatori shook his head urgently, started to stand up. “You do not understand. This sin is mine. I cannot allow you–”
Mikiya bore his hands down on Hatori’s shoulders, keeping him at a kneel, and forced a hard, smoky kiss upon him. Rough, demanding, but it always was that way for them. Eventually he slowed, but he did not relent, not until long after Hatori caved and responded in kind, grasping at the back of Mikiya’s haori. Time was precious, but Mikiya needed this. He needed Hatori to understand.
He squeezed his partner’s shoulders, and whispered in the short space between their lips. “I won’t leave you. If I don’t have you, then I have nothing.”
Their life together, as it had been for the thirty years since they inherited the estate, was over. Mikiya knew that much, but didn’t let his fears race beyond that. He instead committed to memory this view of his other half, on Hatori’s sharp eyes seemingly untouched by the years, his noble-formed brow, his chest and arms that could belied muted power, even at their age. His partner, somewhat dazed, slowly collected himself, and then looked back upon Mikiya. He usually would be cross at being caught so off-guard, but this time, he seemed contemplative. He also looked over Mikiya, and even drew his fingers along Mikiya’s scruffy jaw. Mourning dominated his face, his pensive caress.
“I love you, Miya,” Hatori said, quietly, as if even now, he was afraid to give voice to his feelings. His eyes lingered upon Mikiya for a moment more, then dropped to the floor. He covered his face in his other hand, to shield himself even now from exposing his emotions. “I am sorry. I’ve never said it enough, and now I fear I will not get the chance again.”
You aren’t the only one, Mikiya thought, though he was too cowardly to say so himself. He wished now, as he had many times in the past, that he could simply hand his beating heart over to Hatori and be done with it, because words and touch never seemed to convey half as much as he wanted to. He reached forward, and took Hatori’s hand in his own and held it tight. This would have to do for now.
“I’ll tolerate all the sweet talk you want, when this is over,” he promised. Mikiya smiled, though thin. The estate had become silent - but an hour remained to them. “Come on. We’ve got to get moving.”
Red and Shahil being cute (after he’s adopted her)
((Pause prompt: write something cute about Shahil and Red after he's adopted her))
Red shifted in her little nest of blankets, unable to find a comfortable spot. No matter how she lay, her legs just wanted to ache so badly -- she tried stretching them, but that only helped during the stretches. She tried rubbing them, but there wasn’t a lot of room underneath the bed.
The tiredness didn’t help either. Today, like most days now, was a long day without much downtime. She studied letters or numbers in the early morning with Miss Annaisha, followed by running the front counter for the smithy. Then, late afternoon, Agni would pick her up so they could talk over ideas for the shelter.
Red huffed silently, curling her legs up, wiggling her toes to try and loosen everything up. But the resulting leg cramp in her left leg caused her to tear up as she tried to stretch it out.
“You okay?” came the whisper above her.
Usually Red would take care of it herself, because that was all she knew how to, but not tonight. She was too tired and too much in pain to fight it.
“The growing pains are terrible tonight,” she said, her breathing evening out as the sharp cramp lessened for now, but the pain in her shins continued.
“I’ll be right back,” Shahil said, his feet coming over the side of the bed. His footsteps faded out of the bedroom. While he was gone, Red tried to stretch her legs out more, but if it helped her shins not hurt, it cramped up the back of her legs.
Eventually Red just gave up and scooted out from her under-the-bed nest. Instead she clicked on the small bedside lamp and sat on Shahil’s bed, her legs over the edge.
Shahil didn’t take long, not at all, coming back pretty quickly with two things: a large glass of water and a smaller jar full of a yellow paste. “Drink up,” he said, handing her the water. Ever since Red told him the story of the time she couldn’t find clean water to drink for almost two days after a massive flood, Shahil always made sure to make her drink before doing anything else.
Shahil sat before her, on the ground, and opened the jar up. “Mom made this for the house, I guess she forgot to tell you.”
“That’s a strong smell,” Red said, wrinkling her nose at the smell of ginger and heat.
“Cayenne and ginger, it’s to help sore muscles. May I?” Shahil asked, holding his hand out for her legs. At her hesitance, he added, “They’re up, don’t worry.”
Red held out one of her legs, and after lifting the loose pant leg up to her knee, Shahil took a bit of the paste out of the jar and spread it over the front and back of her lower leg. He didn’t quite give her a massage, but he did rub the paste in with a little bit of force.
“You’ll have to bathe in the morning, this stuff stains,” he said before stifling a yawn.
Red nodded, taking another big drink of water. Shahil switched over to her other leg and repeated the process. She noticed her leg, where the paste was, started to heat up now that he wasn’t rubbing it; it felt like standing too close to the oven, or laying far too long in the sun, and it felt nice.
“That should help you,” he said, carefully lowering her pant legs down again.
Red stretched carefully, not wanting to kick him in the face, and sighed. “Thanks. That’s much better,” she said, a smile coming surprisingly easy.
Shahil smiled back. “Finish your water. I have to wash up.”
She did just that while he was gone from the room. If the warmth was anything to go on, his hands must be on fire, and it was so late, and even then, he still helped her out. Placing the empty glass of water on the bedside table, Red was standing when Shahil re-entered the bedroom.
Before he had a chance to fall into bed, Red wrapped her arms around his torso. “Thanks,” she said. Shahil wrapped his arms back around her, one over her shoulders, the other resting on her head of now chin-length hair.
“Anytime,” was his response, and just like Red had always wished for as a child, her parent gave her a soft, barely there kiss on the top of her head.
It is a wild boar! “Bravery to the point of recklessness” is rather on the nose, though Sasha insists that “reckless” is a word only used by those who don’t act in full assurance of victory!
She’s felt a kinship with them ever since the first time she saw one dig taro out of her family’s field and eat it, when she was just a wee thing.
• How does your character react to sudden and unexpected hugs?
Sasha insists that it is impossible for any human to sneak up on her, BUT she allows that she can’t always predict their shows of emotion. If she’s fond of the person (or even neutral towards them), she’ll return the hug in full force with much laughter and/or reassurance as the situation calls for it.
If she is NOT fond of the hugger: a swift shove to the ground and a firm “NO!” accented by accusatory pointing.
• What incredibly dorky thing does your character do while thinking that it’s actually super cool?
Sasha believes that EVERY thing she does is super cool. On the other hand, if you think excessive enthusiasm is dorky, then EVERY thing she does is incredibly dorky.
Okay, it’s hard to narrow down her dorky antics, much less to think of something that wouldn’t be classified foremost as “cute” by her adoring public (read: you guys ♥), but perhaps naming herself when asked who her favorite legendary hunter is would qualify.
• What is the craziest thing your character has done?
There was the time she followed a woman she barely knew into the wilderness and away from the only life she’d ever known.
There are many crazy things she’s wanted to do until Mikasa talked her out of it (numerous instances of wrestling bears among them).
When she was eight, she pierced a hornet’s nest with an arrow and proceeded to attempt to skewer as many as she could with further shots. She ran away screaming shortly thereafter.
• What are some of your character’s weaknesses?
She’s terrible at social subtlety and intrigue. She’s never been in a large city or seen the ocean, so she’d be at a loss in either environment. She’s useless with technology not directly related to farming. She’s capable of sympathy far more than empathy, and her ability to conceive of peoples’ inner lives and wants and needs as unlike her own is limited.
• What’s your character’s biggest secret?
Sasha’s never received attention and admiration before she met Mikasa. She becomes uneasy trying to imagine her life if she’d never left the village, and her memories feel far lonelier now than they did when she lived there.
On the other hand, she’s not sure what she’d do with herself now if she parted ways with Mikasa, and the idea makes her feel very vulnerable.
You are only seven when the new neighbors move in, but you still know their daughter is the most prettiest girl in the whole big, wide world.
You meet her for real later that afternoon, after you and your parents go over to welcome the new neighbors. She was too tired from the trip to come to the door when you visited, but a while later, while you’re practicing balancing on one foot outside on the stump left from the old dying tree Baba cut down earlier that year, a whisper comes through the short wooden fence between your gardens.
“Psst!”
You look up. The pretty girl you saw helping the grownups earlier is there. Her hair is sleek and pulled up in a shiny bun, and her eyes twinkle like stars. Your smile must be bright as sunshine, because how could it be anything else, looking at someone so pretty. She grins back.
“My name’s Xun,” she says, no longer whispering, but voice still soft, like she’s telling you a precious secret. She knocks on one of the wooden slats and you go to her, leaning in so close your noses might touch. She inches her finger and her thumb through the gap between you, holding a small, shiny stone.
“Look,” she says. “Treasures!”
Now, you know these shiny stones are everywhere, in gardens and backyards and strewn along the streams and the countryside, but you didn’t know they were treasures! You gesture Xun to follow you to the little gate Mama and Baba used to go through when they visited the old neighbors, and probably will again once they get to know the new ones. You have to stand all the way on your tippy toes and reach real high to get enough leverage to swing the latch, but when you do, Xun peeks around the fence like she’s afraid she’ll get in trouble if she steps through.
“My name’s Hongyu,” you say, and instead of laughing like the other kids do when the ‘s’ whistles through the gap where you lost your tooth, Xun smiles and bows, a giddy caricature of your parents. You bow back, like Mama taught you.
“We have lots of treasures over here!” you grin when you straighten.
Xun claps and takes your hands, and she leans in and whispers conspiratorially, “Since it’s your land, I’ll share it with you.”
And you know, without a doubt, that you are going to marry her someday.
Hooray! Thank you all for having patience with my slow pace: there’s still a little overtime and some doctor’s visits in sight, but I’m chugging along like the most determined of snails. And thank you for giving me so many wonderful posts to read in the mean time! To say nothing of chat brainstorming!
New Threads!
The Dog Days of Summer: GAN PUPPY ADVENTURES! Gan wanders off in the city, and who should be there enjoying the street food but Jianyu and Meilan?
Ongoing Threads!
Filling in the Lines: “Secret” has a slightly different meaning in the sprawling Li household.
Never Bring a Gun to a Fistfight: Aoi’s awkward confession about his past earns him some affection from Team Mom Hongyu.
Little Red Hiding Hood: Anik’s negotiation worked! Or so he thinks. Red bides her time.
This Ain't Oakland: Maritess’s compliments and obvious good taste win her further approval from Mikasa.
Where the Gods Live: Shit just got real for Annaisha.
Many Happy Arrivals: Meilan is learning first hand that the hardest part of being a hero in a fantasy setting is all the walking involved.
A Smile and a Song: Aoi shares a half-truth with Sousuke, whom Mokuren now has on an invisible leash! No one is standing in the Circle of Trust!
Not a Bash but a Soirée: Meg and Agni jump right into the thick of it, and immediately take hold of an alcoholic life preserver.
Imperial Match Game: Agni and Hibiki overcome a conversational road bump only to run headlong into a wall.
Impulsive Visits: Hibiki manages to avoid being shanked with a carrot and helps Yuhan with dinner.
A Study in Sapphire: Azat gets noticed! Maybe he can save Hibiki from the small talk.
A prompt I’d love to see people tackle is everyone’s motivations for summoning their given gods - or even if they care about summoning their gods. Or what it would take to make someone’s character care about summoning the god.
Meghana
Meg’s general feeling is that she doesn’t have time for this shit.
Especially in the beginning, Meg’s feelings about her mark are a mix of fear and anger. All she really knows about the seishi is what’s been said in propaganda and what she’s been able to read between the lines, and what it all points to is that if anyone finds out, there’s a very good chance that she’s going to be arrested and she’ll lose the shop and Nidhi will be taken away. She’s afraid it’ll make her lose everything, when she didn’t even want it in the first place. The anger comes from the loss of control the mark implies. Meg has been trying to get a grip on her life, and she only recently feels like she’s starting to get the hang of things. The shop is doing well, Nidhi hasn’t been dragged away by the Lilies, and even if her life isn’t what she wanted, she’s was starting to come to terms with it. She’s carved out her place in the world, and she’s going to protect it. In her mind, the mark is basically the world’s way of saying “Nope, you don’t have control, you never had control, you’re screwed no matter what you do” and it PISSES HER OFF.
I think as time goes on and she realizes that this isn’t going to go away (especially when she meets the priestess and the other seishi), her attitude will change. She’ll realize that it if the gods are going to pull this crap on her, the first thing to do is to figure out as much as she can about what she’s been given, so if nothing else, she can exert some measure of control over it. Her protective instincts are going to kick in too, and while she couldn’t care less about Byakko she DOES care about the other seishi, the people that eventually become her adopted family. How she feels about the priestess will depend on what she’s like, ultimately, but I suspect that those protective feelings will extend to her as well, and she’ll want to make sure she’s safe and get her home. If anything will motivate her to get on with the god summoning, it’ll be to keep those she cares about safe.
That, and so she can give that damn tiger a piece of her mind.
Meilan
To Meilan, this is one Big! Giant! Adventure! It’s like one of her fantasy novels come to life, and that’s REALLY COOL.
As amazing and cool as she thinks this all is, though, the gravity of the situation will eventually hit her. Initially, she’s driven to summon the god because she’s in a story and That’s What You Do, but over time, as she makes friends and learns more about the country and how the Empire is crushing everyone, she’ll be driven because she sees it as The Right Thing to Do. She cares about everyone so much, if her summoning the god will help everyone stay safe and happy, then that’s what she needs to do.
This will, admittedly, make her kind of ticked off if she realizes that some of her seishi are trying to get her home without doing the summoning. Learning that the summoning could kill her would scare her, certainly, but if there’s one thing she’s learned from the many stories she’s read, it’s that if your only options are Bad and Worse, then you FREAKIN’ FIND THE THIRD OPTION, and there is always a third option.
She may see herself as kind of useless and a bit of a disappointment, but she’s got heart and determination, and by gods if she can use that to save a world, she’s going to do it.
A prompt I’d love to see people tackle is everyone’s motivations for summoning their given gods - or even if they care about summoning their gods. Or what it would take to make someone’s character care about summoning the god.
Aoi
Right now, summoning Seiryuu means everything to Aoi.
When he got his mark, three years ago in the military, he knew what it was and what it meant, since he grew up on Dragon stories from Hatori. What Aoi could not comprehend was why the mark would appear when the world seemed so orderly and peaceful. Aoi was raised with a privileged background, and even though his fathers instilled in him a sense of duty towards those poorer and weaker than him, Aoi never realized to the extent that people suffered until he got his mark. He also didn’t realize how shitty the military could really be to the people, since most of his career was spent at the palace.
After two years of hiding his mark and trying to find an answer, Aoi’s control over himself snapped. Hiding his magic and the mark weakened his resolve, and he developed delusions in which he genuinely thought he could lead a revolution from within the palace. Because of this terrible snap, even though Aoi survived, his betrayal cost his fathers and Anik dearly. He didn’t realize what he had done until after.
So Aoi is driven by a true sense of justice and desire to save the world. But he is also driven by terrible guilt - as far as he knows, he sacrificed his fathers and Anik in order to come forward as Nakago. He hangs onto the hope that they are okay, but part of him knows that is a lie, and that the Empire has no mercy towards traitora. Also, he now knows that as a soldier, he was killing ‘rebels’ who were right to resist the Empire. In Aoi’s mind, the only thing that can possibly justify the terrible things he has done is to successfully summon Seiryuu, and save the country. Anything less is unacceptable.
Xia
Xia has literally no clue why Suzaku wants to be summoned, or why she would be picked as Hotohori. At this point, Xia has assumed that maybe seishi are just always around, but only get together if the world is in obvious danger. Xia lives in the capital city and has absolutely no clue what could be wrong with Hongnan. The people are happy, shopkeepers are generous and donate their leftover food to charity, the arts are thriving, etc. Xia assumed that she would never actually be needed, and thank god for that, cause her powers are useless.
So meeting Meilan, the priestess, will be a huge shock to Xia. How could Suzaku make such a big mistake as sending a priestess to a peaceful country? Xia is horrified, and wants to help Meilan get home. It is super not right for Meilan to have to be away from home for so long, and the idea of sacrificing her for wishes? Out of the question.
Also, though Xia understands that the Empire does not like seishi, she doesn’t believe the Empire would kill them, especially since they haven’t done anything. Xia might even entertain thoughts of telling the Governor what is up, cause the Governor is a nice lady and Hongnan is a good country - surely if Governor Tan knew that the team has no intention of summoning Suzaku, they would all be left in peace (oh no).
A prompt I’d love to see people tackle is everyone’s motivations for summoning their given gods - or even if they care about summoning their gods. Or what it would take to make someone’s character care about summoning the god.
Shahil
For the longest time, Shahil doesn’t have much investment in summoning Byakko other than getting it over with so he can get back to his life without having to constantly be on guard. Then, like Agni, he finds out lives could be on the line, and if the priestess could be killed, what about all of his friends? Could he lose everyone? And I don’t think he could make it through that in once piece.
Annaisha
Annaisha, at the point where we are on the boards (her teaching Red how to read is the most recent in the timeline, I think) wants to learn more about Byakko and Their warriors in a context that could help her friends. She has no interest in summoning Them, is neither actively for nor against it. BUT THEN she receives another collection of books and pamphlets from Saanvi, and one of them is a copy of a copy of a journal. She’s aware there is room for mistranslation, but it is pretty clear the man who wrote it was one of Byakko’s seishi in the past, and it was also clear he didn’t expect them to make it to the end of the journey.
Then she goes Mama Tiger on all her little tiger cubs and swoops them up and says, “I’m not letting you go.”
I don’t know how well that turns out or not, though. XD
Hongyu:
Hongyu’s mark didn’t appear until she was in her early twenties, although she and Xun grew up hearing stories of the Great Phoenix. So while it was a shock, at least they did know what it was.
They got married shortly after that, and, (thanks to Sage’s fantastic idea!) spent their honeymoon of ten years or so wandering around the country, trying to find any other warriors, or see if there was any news of the priestess. They found nothing, but Hongyu still felt a responsibility to the mark, so she went back to training. She was too old to become a dancer in a travelling troupe, like she’d dreamed growing up, but a wandering martial artist wasn’t that far off, was it?
Eventually she stopped training out of responsibility and started training out of love for all the different styles of fighting, and while she had to keep her forehead covered, Suzaku wasn’t much in her thoughts. She thought she’d been abandoned, so why deal with Them?
Then, when she finally starts meeting other seishi, and Meilan, all those years later, she sees a lot of herself in them. In their early-twenties, all young and vulnerable in their own ways. All she wants to do is protect them. They are her children now. Her priority is finding the last few remaining seishi, Suzaku comes later.
When it finally comes time, she realizes they could wish for peace and prosperity through all the kingdoms, with no more corrupt government. But she’s also not willing to give up Meilan to do it.
A prompt I’d love to see people tackle is everyone’s motivations for summoning their given gods - or even if they care about summoning their gods. Or what it would take to make someone’s character care about summoning the god.
Agni
He doesn’t really have any motivation to summon Byakko right now; he’s just going with the flow. It’s worth noting that his “flow” is divinely inspired, so he is subconsciously being pushed in that direction.
Once he finds out that the Priestess runs the risk of being devoured by the god, he’ll probably be actively against it, and start wondering “if the death cult part is kind of true, what else is kind of true?” and then start doubting his every action because he has a direct line to Byakko in his brain and Byakko apparently eats maidens??? It’ll be fun!
Khünbish
She is briefly hesitant about the whole star warrior thing, until she realizes that it’s probably the most efficient way of crushing her enemies once and for all. Or “saving Beijiya” if you want to put it in milder terms. (She will spend a lot of time thinking about the Empire and the mines and their economic ties, and how to best phrase any wishes so that the widest possible range of people get what’s coming to them.)
Sasha
She wants to do whatever Mikasa-sama wants to do!
Of course, it has occurred to her that Mikasa-sama carries part of the Blue Dragon, AND she is also quite magnificent (of course), so wouldn’t it follow that Seiryuu is ALSO quite magnificent? She’d love to see them one day, so maybe summoning them would be a cool thing to do.
