There was a time to strive against the will of the heavens, and a time to wait, to listen. The skies of this world held dangers unknown-- that much had been proven time and time again. In the two years he had spent within this realm, Zhongli had been rendered powerless more than once. Indeed, more than had happened before in all of his long existence.
The shifting and changing of this world was unfamiliar and alien, and still, even after all this time, he knew it was still time to wait.
To tarry here a bit longer, until the next sun arose.
And yet, despite the uncertainty, some constants still remained-- the two of them had dwelt together now without interruption, even as the residents up and down the street were changed out and re-arranged seemingly each time the painted colors lit the sky. And though each was stubborn in his own way, they lived still harmoniously despite that.
It had been Thor's idea, to attend the candlelight passing. Last year Zhongli had stood at the water's edge, watching the small boats carrying their offerings out across its rippling surface-- this year, his roommate had invited him to partake, and so he had accepted. He listened as they set up their workspace, and as he took up a carving knife in hand.
"Indeed," he spoke then. "Every people's customs are rooted in their history-- within these traditions, even those stories that have been long forgotten may yet live on. Thus, such things are some of the most precious among humanity."
Wood-crafting was not so intuitive as stone and metalworking, but in his thousands upon thousands of years, there was nary a craft that Zhongli had not learned. There was something meditative about this, too, he thought, as curls of wood began to fall away into neat piles, the shape of a hull gradually taking form.
"Yet... it is not only humanity that may find value in such remembrances."
ellievsbear
gummygunk
baratheonpilled
titsay
andulkaphoto
germansingergirl
kaledo-art
turnnoffyourmind
