you better treat dianxia with respect
noise dept.
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Mike Driver

oozey mess
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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Claire Keane

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Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
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@xueyuu
you better treat dianxia with respect
wow... super sorry for being inactive. time has been flying and i’ve been stressed and unmotivated due to some stuff happening irl. will be getting to my drafts soon -- i didn’t drop anything, i promise!
princevirtue:
♚ : this place is far too loud for her tastes, even at a distance from and miko’s ears ring with the chatter of distant dull conversations about this-and-that, so-and-so’s recent promotion — she hears and understands, but none of it serves any purpose to her, other than to distract and disturb her sensitive ears. perhaps she’s just feeling overly sensitive today, but it’s enough to make her consider returning home.
she is enjoying the art of people-watching, however, in spite of the sound. it’s merely a method of passing the time but, as she begins to formulate a plan for her continued existence here, it serves as a sort of meditative focus. miko watches and waits under a particularly shady tree, serene until she spots him. he stands out like a sore thumb, though whether that’s intentional on his part she’s not quite certain. there’s a certain aura about him that she can’t quite place, cannot place without utilizing her most innate skill, and she’s already unintentionally frivoled away two uses of that.
his voice sounds loud to her, though of course he mustn’t have intended it so. that penetrating stare lowers just as she offers a wave.
‘only that you make it quite difficult not to stare. i might have minded my manners, but you stand out. if you’d intended to remain inconspicuous, you might have chosen a better locale in which to brood.’ as if she herself can talk in such a situation.
‘at least you’ve made my passing hobby of people-watching momentarily interesting! might i ask what you are, or is this too public a venue for such a line of questioning?’
considering the attitude he displayed while asking her that question (if his tone could even be considered a polite inquiry), her response was calm (and lengthy considering his short line of questioning). as a result, she receives part of his interest and he finally raises his eyes away from the petal on the floor, looking at her with a dull expression on his face. a tilt of his head, a tone that’s matter of fact, hua cheng says, tone still bored, “is there anywhere i can truly brood in peace?” an honest question -- he really would like to know the answer to that.
she might have a point about his clothes -- the bright red that can stand out even in the dark, silver dangling. switching to a simpler outfit, a simpler form would allow him to leave the attention of the public, but place a dent on his cultivated pride. of course, he knows it’s not his appearance that has captured her attention. he’s not on unused to stares, ghosts, humans, heavenly deities alike, her gaze was different, her presence unusual. a laugh, and he replies, “i doubt it’s my outfit choices that attracted your attention.” a small shift in posture and the silver ornaments jingle lightly against each other.
finally, she reveals what he has suspected, a question he could ask her. mutual understanding that the other is not what their forms fully imply. “i have nothing to hide,” he says, eyes leaving her gaze once again to look at the scenery in this ward. he was never one to keep himself hidden (other than his constantly shifting forms) back in his world, preferring to be in the heaven’s eyes unafraid of any of their ‘retributions’ unlike black water. “i’m a ghost,” he answers flatly. “and what are you?” he returns the question. “lucky to have guessed i’m not human or something else entirely?”
nanamigatari:
“Did they now? How kind of them to do so. Or maybe that’s cruel? I’m glad that you were able to see this person again, however.“
“As for me? You could say that. I’d technically achieved it my long awaited goal with my younger brother’s help. The truth of the matter is that I was never meant to exist. I awoke in this place months ago, free from the embrace of the death that I sought.“
“never meant to exist? did i hear correctly?”
“interesting. ahaha, i have never heard of someone thinking they are never meant to exist and rectifying that problem. why do you believe that?”
I don’t mind not getting a happy ending if it means ——————–
you get yours.
heart3yed:
💛 💜 ❤️ || ❝were that only POSSIBLE … alas, i do not very much fancy MAIMING myself to keep my head clear.❞
his energy burns as BRIGHTLY as any star, and were she not the mistress of vengeful spirits in their final resting place, perhaps she’d be remiss. but eyes are as steely as ever in her resolve. an OCCASIONAL fluttering of danmaku bullets from her fingers, of which split into debris headed her way — surely his umbrella could handle a few more pebbles! a knowing smile all the while, only thing keeping her from REVEALING too much of herself being a need for self preservation.
❝well, there’s not exactly an audience WAITING on my every word, and despite what is surely an irritating conversation, i was PLANNING on heading in the same direction as you.❞
both COMPLETELY true statements, though whether he’d believe her or not is another story. satori can’t blame any sort of skepticism, not with the way she speaks and acts. a LIGHT laugh in the face of his smirk, that she’s CHALLENGED only makes her want to speak up more.
her reply elicits the tiniest of smile on his lips. “unfortunate. you’ll have to continue listening. do you expect me to apologize for that?” he laughs, a ridiculous idea that amuses him merely by crossing his mind. “i absolutely will not.”
despite appearing relaxed, hua cheng is cautious of any attacks she might send his way, prepared to counter in defense. but she never did. at most, she created a few pebbles to stop herself from being hit by a rock falling close to her. they bounced harmlessly off his parasol, no threat to him at all.
“my motivations are obvious enough,” he begins. hua cheng stops right before an open crater. the opening is fairly wide, revealing a wire deep underneath, ripe for a hero to come and cut to ‘save the day’. “i came to stop people from cutting this,” he says, finally turning to face her directly, red parasol still held above him, shading his face and obscuring his intentions. “what do you plan on doing?”
musioru:
|| █ ▌— genesis has always found this place strange, this odd church with its odd gospel. his scholarly interest had been piqued by its peculiarities, and though he is nowhere near a true believer of this peculiar faith, he can’t help but want to know more about it, to understand what stirs in others the same fervor he has for his goddess.
besides, it’s a beautiful building. perhaps genesis is simply longing to feel something, to be moved by artwork. when the one beside him begins to speak, he turns his head toward him, looking at him curiously, as if sizing him up. this, of course, is more habit than anything, and his scrutiny is neither deliberate nor intense.
❝ amusing? ❞ he asks, his curiosity not fading even as the intensity of his gaze does vanish. ❝ not at all. it’s interesting. ❞
he wonders where the amusement comes from. the goddesses of this place are nothing compared to his own, despite that which makes them worthy of study, but he finds the faith of others charming more than anything. he hopes others look at him in the same fashion.
a smile forms on his face. ❝ i don’t think these gods exist, no. but the earnest belief that the people here have feels very genuine… for the most part, at least. i’m sure some of those here are merely going through the motions, as it were. ❞
maybe it’s only him who possesses derision for gods other than his own, his unwavering belief in one person disallowing him from believing in others. “this is like a reflection of our world, the people who pray to their gods in hopes they are answered -- i guess a testament to the faith people have, and the fact it can develop anywhere,” he says. hua cheng leans back on his seat, pursing his lips together in thought.
“have you considered the existence of gods brought from other worlds into this one?” he asks, turning his head in the direction of the person he’s speaking to now. he knows personally of one whose here, his brilliance the only thing keeping hua cheng from diving into a mad loneliness.
“it’s amusing how this is a place of massive mixing pot of gods, of deities. during that catastrophe, the people surely witnessed these amazing acts from gods but they still come here to believe in their own. you can say they’re still going through the motions, but you would think there would be more dedication to the new gods that have appeared in their city, no?”
fandandy:
The disdain that this man seemed to have for Huaisang was clear—it didn’t take much for Nie Huaisang to notice that, even when he shifted his focus towards the paintings nearby. It wasn’t like he was unused to it, either. Being his world’s “most pathetic sect leader” had its unfortunate perks like that.
No, it was the immediacy of that disdain leaving the man’s face that Nie Huaisang noticed more. That gave Huaisang pause, but not enough for his face to falter. He instead smiled as though nothing was wrong, turning back to the taller man as he responded, “Yes, very much so! Ahhh, what a coincidence to meet a fellow artist!” Certainly, the man could truly be passionate about the arts, enough so that he might’ve forgiven Huaisang for bothering him. He did seem interested in the paintings before them, after all.
That didn’t mean Nie Huaisang was just going to blindly trust him, though. Especially as he shared his… concerns of Huaisang getting lost once again.
Ah. Maybe Huaisang got himself into more trouble than it was worth. All for art supplies. Won’t dage be proud.
“Coming! Coming,” Huaisang chirped, following the man in red closely, as he requested. He kept his fan up, almost like a comforting barrier between the two of them. He did his best to answer the man, although the first question of his being a cultivator left him feeling rather awkward. “Cultivator… you could call me that, I suppose. I probably am much weaker than you, though.” A small laugh escaped Huaisang then, as though he was fully confident in that assumption.
“Ah, as for my name, please, call me Nie Huaisang! May I ask for yours in return…?”
he has absolutely no doubts that he’s stronger than the sniveling cultivators in besides him. the thought crosses his mind that this might only be an act, that he might be stronger than he appears, but at the end, hua cheng has no doubt in a fight who would come out victorious. he maintains his relaxed composure, laughing gently at the comment. he replies, “i was not a cultivator. i was only a soldier once upon a time. in a fight, i have no doubts a trained cultivator can best me.” humble words delivered with unnecessary confidence.
a lie.
“nie huaisang...” he repeats, the name unfamiliar. it could be someone unremarkable from his own world. it could be someone from another world similar to his own (much like that annoyance he had the fortune to meet). “pleasure to meet you,” he lies. his facade completely amiable, he says, “i’m known as hua cheng.” dark eyes peer behind his fan, watching for any recognition. that could help him identify who is walking besides him.
not long after, he returns his attention back to the streets, wondering which turn would make it harder for the person besides him to navigate out of. he was careful to avoid any other art stores. “we’re nearly there,” he reassures, flashing a friendly smile. and it’s true, they nearly are -- the streets have notably gotten unfriendly, the people around them sporting more dangerous glints in their eyes. questionable sounds erupted at random intervals.
honestly, anyone with any sense would’ve already left his side and tried to find an art store on their own. “one more corner,” he says, “and it’s the store on the right.” he knew that was a brothel -- close enough to an art store, no?
charity sketch commissions
i'm just gonna get all the hua cheng requests out of the way 😔🙏
Valentine’s Day official art from the donghua team. 💞💗💕💓
gallowsbough:
To call a rain of blood— it must have been quite the pest, Yggdrasil comments with raised brows. She could imagine it; a flower stricken, dyed in the torrent and ignored because no one would stain their shoe soles for a flower so insignificant— they would sooner crush it underfoot in their haste to escape the downpour. Save for this person. Curious. Mindful of you, she chimes with a smile.
A story for a story. Well… She hums, eyes upturned in consideration. It was not often that people asked stories of her, and compounded by her scattered brain, she draws a blank for a moment. Then: I am a tree, she begins. And shaded beneath me is a deep, unnatural lake.
Keep reading
“the smallest of flowers can make the largest difference to those who need it,” he muses. and it has made a difference for the person who mattered. a simple offering to the one who thinks he has been forgotten could remind him that there still exist believers, after all. hua cheng turns to meet the gentle gaze of the deity next to him, listening to the smooth chimes tell a tale from her own past.
he listens to the story she promises him. she tells a tale of a man filled with determination to gain power from her, hanging himself as an offering to achieve that goal. she thwarted him multiple times, until she is unable to do so, finally giving him the release he sought. a small smile plays the entire time, amused by that tale.
“creation born from death, death results after creation,” he says. “the man’s sacrifice formed the lake by your roots, despite your actions to try and stop him from his realizing his goal.”
unhurried in this nice day, he folds his arms against his chest, looking up into the sky, musing about the story she shared. “in my world, gods are not meant to interfere in the lives of a few,” he says. there was one in particular to ignored those words so many years ago, an act he still respects to this day.
hua cheng asks, curiosity clear in the bright voice, “why did you try to stop him initially?”
you better treat dianxia with respect
ice pack fafa
casualtheft:
★ : she thought that perhaps a talk would reveal some deeper intent, some greater purpose behind the man’s defense of the wires, but somehow marisa is left further disappointed. at least he’s talking about his sword — which has most certainly piqued her morbid curiosity — and not attacking. that has to be a plus, right?
‘gods, huh? i guess you do need some special tools to knock them around from time to time.’ she’ll just pretend she didn’t hear that bit about cutting down heroes. ‘and it has a mind of its own, like a tsukumogami… huh. i still don’t wanna touch it, though.’
her gaze falls to her own tool — for that’s how she’s always thought of it, not as a weapon — glowing faintly in her left hand.
‘yeah, that was a pretty good answer, i guess.’ she thinks, anyway, if he’s telling the truth.
‘this is the mini-hakkero! i use it for a lot of things, but it has the power to level a mountain.’ a pause, as she feels the need to add, ‘rumored, that is. it definitely packs a lot of magic power, that’s for sure.’
it’s silent for a moment, but she takes a few steps forward, closing a bit of the distance between them but certainly not in striking range yet. ‘well, i guess that’s enough of a break.’ there’s a little hesitation in her usually-confident voice, all drive for an out-and-out brawl drained to zero. still, she takes a few more steps, because she’s not the type to back down from a challenge, but… really, what is the challenge here? cutting the wires just so she can say she did it first? there’s no fun in it, not when she really thinks about it for longer than a few seconds. who’s going to even know that she did anything when people all over the island are surely attempting the same feat, over and over again? it makes her feel… redundant, and more than a little useless.
rin would probably scold her for hesitating like this right about now.
‘…so do you really wanna fight then?’ marisa is pointedly avoiding the subject of cutting the wires, because truthfully, she’s not all that interested in doing so any longer, but it would feel like a cop-out if she actually said so. ‘we could always talk more about that neat sword. i have a lot of spare time these days.’
leveling a mountain? hua cheng raises an eyebrow. if she had wanted to use that against him, then she could have already. like him, it seems she’s hesitating. she’s not rushing to be the hero, like how he’s not rushing to be the villain. he isn’t doing this for blood, after all. he wants to see the freedom or erasure they promised. if a wire isn’t actively cut, then he has no reason to attack.
“an impressive device,” he says, “fortunate i’m not yet at the end of its attack.” he says that casually, as if they aren’t on opposing sides right now. as if they could be allies. impossible. a situation that can barely be imagined. it’s strange they’re even conversing casually right now, as if they aren’t meant to be fighting.
she seems to notice this as well, closing the distance, stating their break is over. with a cant of his head, he wonders if this means this is the moment he sees her ‘hakkero’ in action, power to level a mountain directed at his tiny being. that would be interesting, for sure.he folds his arms as he watches her.
a cold laugh, soulless like him. “i have no preference. if you want to cut the wire, then i’ll fight. if you wish to talk about my sword, then...” he says, pausing. he laughs again, amused by the situation he found himself in. of all heroes he would meet today, he found one not eager to be one. “we can talk about it.”
hua cheng once again pulls out e-ming, the eye opening and closing, confused by the intermission they’re having. on one hand, it wishes to fight and receive praise from its master. on the other, if its master doesn’t want to fight and it acts disorderly, then it’s only going to get disciplined. the eye looks confused, and is even more confused when hua cheng stabs it straight into the ground in front of him, rendering it immobile. as a show of peace that he won’t attack her if she comes even closer (and confidence that he can handle himself even unarmed), he takes a step back, gesturing if she wants a closer look she can have it.
the beautiful, intricate silver handle vibrates a little as the eye rolls around frantically, upset about its treatment. ignore that, he looks at the young girl curiously. “if i may ask,” he begins, “why don’t you wish to fight? don’t you consider yourself a hero? don’t you want to cut the wire for this island?”
Do you hate
Clcik for better quality
"social distancing": boring. Basic. Tired. Over-used.
"retreating to the caves to cultivate in isolation": mysterious. Badass. Kind of sexy.