THE PYRE.

THEY INVENT YOU AND ACCUSE YOU.

[hongyan]

Not that my activity was brilliant before, but I have examinations. I’ll be on a short hiatus until the first week of May. I’ll reply to drafts and IMs then.

Thanks for your patience.

[hongyan]

euromma‌ .

hongyan liked your post “euromma: like for starter call!”

 “Ara ara, what good boys you all are.” When a foreign women, looking like she came from Reim of all places had decided to walk into the palace, there was a …silence since her beauty was indeed, great. Though to be fair she only wandered around in the kitchens meant for the soldiers, or soldiers in reserve, the scent of meat and other such items cooking beautifully in one big pot, a line of soldiers waiting for their turn. It seems hunger has won out. Her matronly aura making people, especially weak willed ones adore her. Though there is a sense of ….out of touch in her eyes if you look closely, she is harmless. 

The bull and giant robot waiting outside patiently in the side of the training grounds though? not so much. Though somehow their presence was ignored… 

 “Who’s next~” she holds out a bowl of special pig stew to the next soldier, whoever they may be. 

“         OUT .   ”  He snarled, his voice erupting.  The soldiers scattered, loosed from the cords of infatuation ------ terror, the knife.  He dared not yet to draw his sword.  “   What  are  you  ?   Some  perfumed  courtesan  of  Reim  to  serve  foot  soldiers ?   Such  effort  they’ve  made  for  mockery .  .  .  .   ”  His eyes dragged like claws down the titanic machines that sat behind their cannons and horses, looming.  Design utterly foreign, utterly western and from beyond the seas.  Then he looked at the woman as though she were a pitiable creature however many jewels --- a city’s worth of grains --- clung to her flesh.  Hóngyán grimaced harder, trying to understand what cajolery came from this.  Was there a missive from Reim’s envoys he overlooked?  His brother ought to know, but his brother was not here.  And Hóngyán lacked sorely delicacy.  “   Take  your  sordid  business  to  the  stables ,  if  you’ve  no  proper  business  with  me.   ”

[hongyan]

.

[hongyan]

Things are hectic on my end … who knows when I can do replies but I’ll try my best. 

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Terror and silence. And between them, a Flame.

Nikos Kazantzakis, tr. by Richard Howard, from “The Rock Garden,”

[hongyan]

Things are hectic on my end ... who knows when I can do replies but I’ll try my best. 

[magunoshutatto]

紅炎中心ログ | anecdote [pixiv] 

[wishbzne-deactivated20210526]

I hand you my fate. But don’t take pity. And don’t come back.

Anne Carson, from The Beauty of the Husband

[hongyan]

idelar‌ .

                    》   𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝙸𝚂   𝙸𝚃   𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃   𝚈𝙾𝚄   𝙵𝙴𝙴𝙻   ?   fear  ,  disbelief  ,  shame  ,  judgement  ?  it’s  a  wonder  if  anyone  will  ever  know  .  a  wonder  if  you’ll  ever  truly  find  out  .  there’s  an  old  voice  that  rings  somewhere  inside  ,  a  somber  memory  too  hard  to  grasp  in  this  forever  fog  ;  the  monsters  have  always  been  closer  than  you  think  .  so  very  close  .   “   i  ain’t  buyin’  it  .  don’t  care  what  your  records  say  .  i’ve  had  enough  of  people  trying  to  trick  me  .   “

         STEEL   DID   NOT   LOVE   ; stone did not mourn.  When they break, that was the end of it. No persistence and resistance unlike flesh. So from flesh the magicians stitch together these ‘ superior’ soldiers, to keep dragging themselves over the battlefield.  “   Are  you  breaking ?   ” he asked, grimacing. The same virtues were the vice :  resistance.  “   I  gain  nothing  from  tricks.   You  fight  well  enough  .  .  .   I’d  loathe  to  start  over  over  pieces  of  paper.  Fine,  why  don’t  we  call  you  an  ‘ original ’ ?   ”  

[hongyan]

iedolon‌ . 

        “  enough.  i’ve grown sick of such mundane repetition,  as fitting as it may be for these feeble-minded humans to run themselves thin,  rushing the same fields by day.  are you so content in this routine that you will entertain it?  ” 

(  @hongyan​      ❤ ‘d     for a starter     |     hongyan  ft.  miaoyi !!  )

“         WHEN   HAS   WAR   EVER   DONE   AS   WE   WANTED ?   ”  But the zhēnrén spoke true, and his jaw clenched in agreement.  Little, repetitive losses would soon stack up to a mountain.  He cannot spare another moon’s turn in the passive hopes of starving out the castle.  It was rich and full of foods  ---  that was why he longed to seize it.  “   I  didn’t  want  to  burn  it  to  ashes ,   all  this  history  and  beauty .  .  .  .   And  now  these  lords  who  oppose  me  have  learned  that ,  it  seems.   ”  His finger tapped thoughtfully on the head of his sword - hilt.  Slowly, his gaze turned down to her, with regard and curiosity.  “   My generals ,  my  enemies  all  call  me  Yán Dì   ---------   perhaps  it  be  the  time  I  remind  them  why ,  Lady  Yú ?   ”

[tombstcne-blog]

RICHARD SIKEN / WAR OF THE FOXES Change pronouns as necessary and tweak sentences as appropriate!

I am faithful to you, darling.

When you bang on the wall you have to remember you’re on both sides of it but go ahead, yell at yourself.

Some people don’t understand anything.

He’s easy to desire since there’s not much to him.

No one wants to know what’s in his head.

To make something beautiful should be enough. It isn’t. It should be.

You’d break your heart to make it bigger.

Will you defend yourself? From me, I mean.

Let’s kill something.

I prefer to blame others, it’s easier.

All these ghosts come streaming down and I wish I had something else.

We all move forward anyway. Ripples in all directions.

What is a ghost? Something dead that seems to be alive. Something dead that doesn’t know it’s dead.

All thoughts finish themselves eventually.

Can we love nature for what it really is: predatory?

When you have nothing to say, set something on fire.

I wanted to explain myself to myself in an understandable way.

Something’s not right about what I’m doing but I’m still doing it.

The enormity of my desire disgusts me.

Look away but I’m still there.

Want something to chase you? Run.

Take only what you need.

Never finish a war without starting another.

I’ve seen your true face: the back of your head. If you were walking away, keep walking.

The fear: that nothing survives. The greater fear: that something does.

All these things and what to do with them. We carve up the world all the time.

I like dead things. They cannot hurt me.

We like things related to our survival: soup, arrows - they expand the range of the species.

My body is a graveyard.

People like to think war means something.

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other. We know who our enemies are. We know.

There are many loves but only one war.

You will need to comfort him, or we will never be finished with this.

You cannot have an opponent if you keep saying yes.

Its roots in the ground and its branches in the air, a tree is pulled in two directions.

The boy is a bird, bad bird. He falls out of trees.

You cannot get in the way of anyone’s path to God. You can, but it does no good.

Some say God is where we put our sorrow.

In the wrong light anyone can look like a darkness.

What can you know about a person?

Difficult thing, to be scrutinized so long.

Even when I look away I am still looking.

Everyone secretly wants to collaborate with the enemy, to construct a truer version of the self.

How much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?

Why build a room you can live in? Why build a shed for your fears?

There wasn’t much left but it felt like him, wild and scared.

The best part of spirituality is reverence. There are other parts. Some people like to hear the sound of their own voice.

If you don’t believe in God, then who are you talking to?

But truth doesn’t count in law, only proof.

Was I discovered or invented? Feels like I’ve always been here.

Measure yourself against the truth and not the other way around.

Perfect and completely dead.

People don’t learn anything unless they are afraid of being left behind.

Logic is boring because it works. Being unreasonable is exciting.

I am your arrival, there is no refusal, we are here, you see, together, we are already here.

This is also part of the story: how the story changes. This is something I forgot to tell you.

You might like it here. I think that you might like it here.

I tell you these things because I love you.

It’s nothing like I thought it would be and closer to what I meant.

Maybe we will wake up to the silence of shoes at the foot of the bed not going anywhere.

It reminds me of where I was going without you.

You know what it’s like to be alone: gimlets and vermicide. You know what it’s like to be alive, so forgiveness.

You asked me once, What are we made of? Well, these are the things we’re made of.

I turned my ears in all directions. I’ll live alone or in between.

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else.

Your body told me in a dream it’s never been afraid of anything.

I live in big spaces, so I’m left alone in big spaces.

We made ourselves cold. We made ourselves snow. We smuggled ourselves into ourselves. Haunted by each other’s knowledge.

To hide somewhere is not surrender, it is trickery.

I try to guess your trajectory and end up telling my own story.

I surrender my desire to be healed.

Take it or leave it, and for the most part you take it.

Shame comes from vanity. Shame means you’re guilty, like the rest of us, but you think you’re better than we are. Maybe you are.

There is no new me, there is no old me, there’s just me, the same me, the whole time.

Don’t try to make a stronger wind, you’ll wear yourself out. Build a better sail.

You want to solve something? Get out of your own way.

What’s the difference between me and the world? Compartmentalisation.

I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love.

I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary.

I’d rather quit. I’d rather be sad. It’s too much work.

I mean, maybe it’s better if my opponent wins.

What happens when I no longer want to meet you?

Nothing lasts forever: we know this.

Longing and suffering? Of course, of course. You want it to mean something.

You can disconnect it or you can try to glue it all together.

We could pull it apart, spend our whole lives pulling it apart and have no time left to do anything smart with the pieces.

The sooner you embrace it, the sooner it will leave you.

You are what you cover up.

Noise and more noise. Noise up to heaven.

One wonders why a story like this exists.

I want to give you more but not everything. You don’t need everything.

Someone has to leave first.

He was pointing at the moon but I was looking at his hand.

All this was prepared for me. All this was set in motion long ago.

I stayed as long as I could. Now look at the moon.

What does all this love amount to?

[hongyan]

“          ———   YOU   DON’T   LIKE   IT ,  I   THINK.   I  hunted  you  a  moon  bear  because  they  told  me  you  wanted  its  pelt  for  the  long  winters  .  .  .  .   I  suppose  women  want  more  delicate  pelts  ;  those  little   weasel  creatures ?   ”

@baiying / (1) wholeass bear starter

[hongyan]

“       ---------  THE   RECORD   SPEAKS   TRUTH.   You  were  a  dead  man ,  someone  found  with  nothing  but  a  strange  name.   I  don’t  know  what  you  are  now  .  .  .  .  Well,  that  body  survived  all  the  beasts  they  stuffed  in  you.   ”

@idelar / the sad clone starter

[hongyan]

fahuo‌ .

        “  well,  had it not been for that  incompetent  admiral,  my ship was set to be docked days ago.  but it’s no matter;  i’ve seen them more times than i can count.  ”     —–  said with a scowl,  the sigh breathed soon after held nothing but exasperation as if expectant,  carrying the same simmering hums of frustration nonetheless.  how  FITTING,  she thought,  that such a mighty nation fall shamelessly,  parading their wall in a taunt only for it to be breached and ripped from within.  seclusion did little but build their own cage of wealth now meaningless when the point of her boot toed at jade and marble that had fractured from the statue.          “  of course he’s in good health,  we would expect nothing less from a firelord,  no?  you should come back some time.  it’s changed quite a bit.  ”

        “  it’s quite hurtful to hear that you think so  ILL  of me,  crawling only when i  want  something.  like a child.  can’t i visit my  favorite  cousin to see his progress in such a scary,  foreign place?  ”

“         THE   NEXT   NEW   YEAR ,   you  shall  see  me  at  the   banquets.   I  think  if  I  miss  another ,  I’ll  be  drawn  and  quartered  by  the  old  lords.   ”   His generous gifts, of the most wondrous craftsmanship fit for conquerors, were becoming poor excuses for his continued absence.  Poorer yet,  now that the city had finally fallen and no harrowing news or missive flew to him to reinforce this or that banner.   “   And  what  sadness  that  should  be  if  I  reward   your   filial  piety  to  accompany  me  in  this  .  .  .  ‘  scary ,  foreign place  ’  with  my  death.   ”   Hóngyán smiled, still sharp and grating but with fondness subtle and reserved for her as if they were sharing a secret.  He motioned the princess to walk with him, towards the war camp and its din of the soldiers taking spoils to send home, to drink and gorge.   “   You  are  welcome  to  join  my  next  campaign.   I  was  a  boy  of  twelve  when  they  threw  me  into  cannonfire  and  hurtling  stones  -------  you’re  old  enough  too.   ”   (  How  short  their  childhoods, but he thought little of it.  )   “   Or  I  suppose ,  if  you  require  my  presence  in  your  command ,  well ,   ”  he  shrugged  expansively,  “   my  duty  is  first  to  our  crown  princess ,  and  not  the  old  lords  who  want  me  drunk  and  dead.   ”

[macrolit]

Vengeance is like a fire. The more it devours, the hungrier it gets.

Disgrace, J.M. Coetzee

[hongyan]

boundedhec‌ .

Glory? Honor? Those words used to mean something to someone like Heracles, but now with so many days, hours, minutes dedicated to fighting, the relief he has gotten was brief when he turned to the crafts of hands that did not involve blood. There were many bows from the women but Herackles , slave that he as of now for the next three years had no choice but to comply with the other. His summoner, a magician of little renown was somewhere out here, only using him as means of labor and not much else. 

 “My master….has retreated to the magicians tent…but I am only but a slave meant for labor…not fighting. Unless I am told by him to fight.” death , a pain so filling it felt like death, he wonders how many times he was forced to fight for his life? His voice was grave as he holds his crafts protectively to his chest. A large man? understatement. Still the cloth he held in his hands resembled an armour guard for the arm. 

  “My master name is…[redacted]…” 

If the prince asked, he can be given to others. Perhaps. 

 One of the women tugged at Herackles leg to make him bow and he complied, shifting to a kneeling position. His choker stood out even more, a strange metal thing with strange magic running inside of it. 

“         YOUR   MASTER   SUMMONS   A   BRUTE   LIKE   YOU   to  do  menial  labor  .  .  .  .   We  have  horses  and  oxen  for  that.   ”  A simple task need only simple means.  Efficiency soured further the extravagance of foreign magicians  ---  no better than a golden sword to peel a single chestnut.  Irritation only just outlasted his grating amusement.  “   Are  you  an  ox ?   Is  that  collar  your  yoke ?   ”  A lofty finger gestured at the ugly thing that clung to the man’s neck.  “   If  you  wish  to  fight ,  then  stand  up.  We  are  at  war.   ”  But giving a golden sword to a man made him not a soldier.  He exhaled,  and with it,  loosed the heat in his head.  Hóngyán looked again at him kneeling among the women, a long and hard glare, and shook his head.  “   Go  find  a  wife  and  live  and  die  on  a  farm,  if  you  prefer  to  hunch  down.   As  you  are  now ,  you  are  useless  ------  I  do  not  abide  by  waste.   ”

[hongyan]

wind-of-flirt‌ .

Heavy steps, loud gestures. He could hear the man coming from miles away.

And yet it would require more than this to disturb Focalor’s relaxed mood. It only elicited the rise of a smirk while he threw a lazy glance toward the other.

“Is this how you welcome your guests here? With discourteous words and a weapon pointed at their face?”

Not leaving his perch, the djinn stretched his limbs slowly. For the occasion, he had reduced his size to fit human height. Those who had witnessed his King equipping him would notice a resemblance in shape and colours, but Focalor’s feathers were more numerous and reached his cheeks and part of his torso. His nails were dark and sturdy like claws and his eyes, his most striking feature, were a bright and intense ocher making his gaze as sharp as a bird of prey’s.

“I knew you would be an interesting fellow Flame Emperor, but I expected better manners from a man of your standard. I am no mere creature. I am a Djinn, born way before your existence and the creation of this world. Thankfully, I am not a resentful one, so I shall forgive you this time. It is nice to meet you~”

“         TELL   ME ,   GREAT   JINN ,   ”  each word enunciated harshly, an accusation scratched in like a mark on a stone wall ,  “   is  it  not  my  prerogative  and  duty  to  rid  my  people  of  such  a  scoundrel  who  has  no  invitation  as  a  proper  guest  should  for  my  boundless  hospitality ?   ”  Hóngyán neither rose nor kneeled ; he stood unyielding,  most quiet and observing.  At last, the bow lowered, groaning in protest, as it slung back onto his shoulder.  The prince shook his head.  “   No ,  nevermind.   Say  nothing.   I’ll  presume  you  would’ve  quipped  something  clever.   ”

His stern mouth threatened a faint smile.  “   Oh  ------  ?  Is  it  ‘ nice ’ ?   I  should  find  it  a  ' nice ’  if  you  were  here  to  choose  me  as  king.   ”  A jest.  He knew he must prove his arbitrary worth, and how easy and abhorrent the corruption of the world if such kingmakers were bribed by coins and pleasures.  Hóngyán curled a finger, beckoning the black-feathered jinn to come down,  to deign to touch the floor.  “   What  do  you  desire ?   ”  he asked,  “   I  promise  nothing  yet,  just  as  you  give  nothing,  not  even  mortality.  But  if  you  speak  like  a  man,  then  you  may  be  persuaded  like  a  man,  no ?  Or  you  ought  to  leave.   ”