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It could have been worse.

The statement, despite being true, doesn't fill Guangyao with any sense of relief. If anything, it's annoying. Of cours eh didn't want to die, but to have even that taken away from him at the end, stripped of rank, title, any distinguishing mark of who he once was? He might as well have been dead.

No cinnabar mark dotted his brow. No scholar's hat on his head. No robes of gold and cream.

Instead it was replaced with...plainness, though one would struggle to describe Guangyao's face as plain even now. White robes, an unadorned home. The area was breathtakingly beautiful, of course, as the land of the Gusu Lan Sect usually are.

But there is nothing.

Oh there's birds and animals that wander by. There are servants who come to tidy the place, but none dare to speak to him. They're smart to refrain from doing so, Guangyao will reluctantly admit, but it's annoying all the same. He finds himself more and more looking anxiously and eagerly for Xichen's visits, needing something to break up the monotony.

So he paces, hands clasped behind his back, making sure his steps are measured and slow so as not to be mistaken for the agitation and impatience that it was. Her shoulder still ached from the scarred wound from Wangji's blade very nearly cleaving it from him; it had been close, sure, but Gusu's healers were famed for a reason. Just another tally on the list of things he owes Xichen for saving him from.

onerous

Sects going into seclusion isn't exactly unheard of. Baoshan Sanren was the most famous of them all, and there being another mountain housing a sect that interacted little with the outside world was simply par the course.

It was the nature of them that made them interesting. There were whispers and rumors, as there always was, that the sect was deep in demonic cultivation, though the town at the foot of their mountain was bustling and lively, despite a solemn revere for water. They spoke lightly of the women on the mountain--that they were cultivators, of a sort, and mostly people went to them to die. That dying with one of them meant there wouldn't be any problems with spirits or monsters--and the town never seemed to have problems of that sort, as if something rejected these creatures before they could get close.

But they kept to themselves and didn't interact beyond their mountain and the town, though none had ever been seen in the town itself proper. All one had to go on was vague drawings of veiled women gliding through fog. "No one who goes up on the mountain is allowed to leave it," the people would warn.

But people tended to not bother with them and they didn't bother with anyone else and that was that. Which is why it caused something of a stir when a letter had appeared requesting to send a couple of disciples to Cloud Recesses that year.

Their arrival was shrouded in just as much mystery. The girls all wore heavy, trailing robes and veils, eyes and hair covered. Bright red lips and pale faces from the nose down were all that showed as they moved quietly, apart from the shuffle of their robes on the ground and the tinkle of their headdresses. There were 5 in total who had arrived, identical looking aside from vague differences in height, with one at the lead.

She bowed low to present her gift--a jar of what they called 'pure water', sacred and most precious to them--before Lan Qiren before introducing herself. "I am Kozukata Yuri, heir of the Nuregarasu sect. We are the disciple from the Mountain Crowned with the Sun. Today we venture into human society to see about joining the other sects in helping where we can."

She glances, a bit hesitantly, over to the girl standing by her side. "Ah, this is our head disciple, Hinasaki Miu. We will do our best to follow the rules and keep the other girls in line and prove our worth to the other great sects. We will not hide ourselves from you, to foster trust between us."

There was a moment of pause once more before she straightened and lifted her hand to raise her veil, blinking slowly out for underneath it as she revealed her face. Her eyes were dark and sad, expression worried. Despite her soft, even tone her hands were shaking.

Beside her, Miu did the same with much less trepidation, unclipping the veil from her headdress to hold it in her hands. Her eyes were lined with red eyeliner and she held her head up proudly, eyes sweeping the room a sif daring anyone to say anything. The remaining three girls also removed their veils, looking nervous and anxious about it, but obeying nonetheless.

Yuri nodded and removed her own fully as well before giving a low bow once more and leading the other girls to take their seats.

Afterwards there'd be plenty of time to actually talk and mingle.

((OOC: This is more an open PSl post for any shenanigans for my fatal frame girls AU'd into Untamed/MDZS/whatever. Can be set pre-Sunshot campaign or 16 years later w/the Juniors generation or whatever. I kept it vague on purpose.

Just let me know if you want Miu or Yuri and what era! Also let me know if you're going CQL or MDZS version or a mix or smth so I can match. Brackets or prose, etc. etc.))

theunluckygirl

Once upon a time, there lived an unlucky little girl.

She didn't know she was unlucky. In fact, she thought that, despite her parents dying when she was young and growing up a ward of the community itself, she was really quite lucky. The high, tightly-packed wooden fence that surrounded their little village didn't offer a view of the world outside the village, but Jennifer didn't need the view. The one she got from her books and her imagination was enough for her, biding her time with thoughts of being eventually old enough to venture out.

At 19, she had only one more year before she could possibly start taking trips outside. There was an odd air of mysticism at that point. Most women weren't actually allowed out and were wed sooner rather than later, but not all There was always still a chance.

And then...

She's not entirely sure what happened. Something had gone wrong, somewhere, and there was... Blood. And screaming. And these monsters--

Jennifer had killed one, ran as far as she could, promptly thrown up all of her lunch, and then ran some more. It seemed terribly perverse that the day was beautiful and sunny and warm enough to be pleasant, and here Jennifer was running for her life. It was a good thing the rough dress and clothes were conservative enough to withstand the branches and the bushes she ran through, just desperate to get away while her home all but burned to the ground.

blackwaterchild

blahblahblah lifeafter shenanigans

sanzohoshi

[Time was a terribly slippery thing for one such as Sanzang, to whom time was merely a suggestion and tended to pass by in the blink of an eye. Hours for her could be years in the realm of the mortals, and she would be none the wiser to its passing until there was some stark reminder of it.

It's why she never let herself get too attached. She adored the mortals and the way they ran around, their tenacity, their determination, their immense capacity for love. She interfered where she felt she was needed. Sometimes Kaguya would appear to her and give her a nudge. 'Save that one, the future depends on it,' or 'no, don't interfere here, what happens needs to happen.' But largely the mystic with control over time left Sanzang do what she wanted and looked the other way, guarding her secrets from the heavens who rare saw fit to look at the mortal realm. As long as she did nothing to endanger the end results too much, everything was fine.

Normally, Sanzang didn't ask much either.

But then, there had been a boy.

It had been a typical, normal day for almost everyone involved. Sanzang had a tendency to stick out wherever she went, scandalizing the locals with her dress and leaving trails of whispers and rumors in her wake. It was fun and harmless and she didn't mind the stares and whispers; they all appreciated her dances all the same and she danced often here she as needed. A dance for good fortune, good health, good harvest. Helping down-on-their-luck towns once in a while, for no other reason than it was a good thing to do, and why not?

That's when she sees him first.

A waif of a thing, digging through the trash and her heart breaks. She buys some food and gives it to him with a gentle smile, and her heart breaks a little more at how easily he accepts it, the brightness of his smile and the chirp of the, 'thank you, jie jie!' that utterly captures her.

A boy with the mark of the heaven's watchful eye on him. She can see it as plainly as if it were a sign worn around his neck or the neon blinking light-up ones she'd seen in her brief glimpses at the future when traveling with Kaguya.

But having the heaven's eyes on you didn't mean it was a good thing. Sanzang suspects as much when Kaguya appears, her bamboo wand held in her hands, her voice soft as she urges Sanzang to help an older gentleman find his way to the little boy

'It's important,' she says, 'for his future. And the future of the world.'

So Sanzang does as she's told and drops the metaphorical bread crumbs that lead a certain sect leader directly into the boy's path. He calls him 'Wei Ying' and the name echoes like a roar in her heart and in her mind. Wei Ying. Wei Ying. It means something, but she doesn't know what yet.

'It's important that this meeting happens,' Kaguya says, watching in the shadows of an alleyway as little Wei Ying is picked up, brushed off, carried away from the streets and the hunger and the pain. 'His life is important.'

'Is it going to be a good life?' Sanzang asks for the first time.

Silence is her answer and she knows. She knows. 'It's not fair,' she says softly, but there's no heat or anger behind ehr words. Just a sad resignation. Their lives were important. Their happiness was not, nothing but playthings in the hands of the gods with greater agendas.

Kaguya rests a hand on her arm. 'It won't be all terrible. There'll be good too.'

'Yes,' Sanzang says, watching as the little boy waves at her from over his savior's shoulder, a gap-toothed smile lighting up his face. She raises her hand and smiles in return and feels the finality of a made decision settle in her heart. 'I'll make sure of that.'

There's no protest from Kaguya, so it must be fine, though Sanzang would do what she wished anyhow even if it wasn't.

She visits any time she can get a break from her duties in the mystic realm or when Wukong isn't causing mischief. She watches to make sure an older sister finds the frightened little boy (there's no need to interfere, because Yanli doesn't need her help at all in this, but she watches just the same, just in case. She quickly finds that if Yanli is involved, she never really needs to do much and that's a comfort, entrusting the boy's care to the older sister she knows is capable.)

He notices her, she always make sure he does. The next time they can properly speak, he's in Caiyi Town retrieving the invitations they'd left behind. She finally tells him her name and he tells her his is now Wei Wuxian. It's a fine name and it makes her smile, though the thud of her heart sounds every time she repeats it in her name. It's powerful. Something is going to happen with him and she doesn't know if she's excited or anxious about seeing what it would be.

Sanzang isn't sure he knows what she is--she's never quite said. He tries to guess in games sometimes and she smiles and 'hmms' and pretends to think about it, but never settles on any one answer specifically. It's enough he knows that she's not of the mortal world and that she means no harm besides.

When they meet again he's leaving the Gusu Lan Sect to return home. He fills her in in hushed whispers of the secret of the Yin Iron and the mention of it makes her blood run cold and her mind suddenly dizzy. Yin Iron.

Oh.

Oh.

One of Da Ji's many terrible inventions, whispered in the ears of dangerous men and tossed to the world of mortals for her to have a laugh at. Sanzang isn't surprised, but it does make her uneasy. There's an ambitious gleam to the man's eyes and she knows that nothing good can come of this. She warns, gently, and he deflects and laughs and teases and flirts at her worry. She drops the matter.

She wishes she didn't.

The next she sees him, Lotus Pier has been razed and he's being dragged from a town by cultivators in red and there's talk of the Burial Mounds. He sees her and sees sees him, their eyes locked. She's sure his gaze is saying not to interfere, but she takes a step forward like she might anyhow.

She could. She easily could. They're like children to her in the face of her power, but Kaguya, invisible to the mortals as she almost ever is, places a hand on her arm. 'You can't,' she says. 'It's important that this happens.' To her credit, her voice is sad, but Sanzang can only hear the echoes of screams whirling in her ears and she can't tell if it's imagined or a premonition of the future. Some of the screams sound like Wei Ying's.

She steps back and watches, again, how Wei Ying disappears into a speck on the horizon.

She doesn't know how much time passes before she can return, but he's survived. If you could call it survival. He's different. No longer the orphaned waif, no longer the slender youth with the teasing smile and flirty lines. There's a maturity in him now that came not from actual age, but from the harsh conditions he'd endured and survived.

His energy is different. He's the same person-- But... Was he? Sanzang could hardly be sure.

When they meet again she's there to greet him as he returns to his room, her curiously poking through his things with a blithe air.

'Yiling Patriarch,' they call him now. A name to strike fear and discontent into friend and foe alike. But Sanzang just smiles gently at him, pleased and relieved to see him.]

It's been a while, hasn't it? [Is all she can think to say. A long while. Too long.]

firebranding

[Once upon a time, Meng Yao had been a young man of great ambition, fueled by his mother's desires to see her son rise up in the cultivation world and make a name for himself. She'd taught him everything she had known, from reading and writing to painting and calligraphy and music. To dance and to sing. To pour tea while showing a hint of his wrist and how to look through his eyelashes at someone. All the things that had made her so accomplished and so sought after for miles and miles around.

Meng Yao is still an ambitious man, just now backed by skills that most didn't have and no one was fully prepared for. He'd inherited almost all of his mother's looks and that he learned to use as well; everything was a weapon, everything was an advantage.

When subduing an opponent through force wouldn't work, charm could be just as deadly.

When he can't convince his father of his worth, when he can't force a father's love and a slot himself into a place for himself, he settles for carving one out instead, biding his time, waiting. It's how he comes into the employ of Nie Mingjue. It's not unheard of for the Nie sect leaders of days long gone to have small harems or a few close concubines; sex was a good way to relieve tensions and calm and control spiritual power. The threat of qi deviation and their infamous tempers could be hampered somewhat by music and by the bodies of their loved ones, and Meng Yao thinks bitterly on how they can look on those ones relatively favorably and then at women like his mother like they're nothing.

But this isn't the time for bitterness. He's a rarity here in a lot of different ways--he's not the first male concubine in a Nie Sect Leader's harem, but it had been a while, and, most importantly, he was the only one in said harem to begin with.

Any others had been dismissed--not unkindly, offered employment elsewhere or stipends to live on comfortably, but Nie Mingjue had never once been seemingly interested in anything or anyone but his saber and war and disciplining his flighty younger brother. But Meng yao had never been one to let things like odds against him stop him from forcibly turning fate to his favor and somehow he'd managed to charm his way into the leader's bed. It hadn't been easy, and he'd had to prove himself capable time and again of not only being charming, but witty and intelligent too. Nie Mingjue would never have tolerated an airheaded concubine.

And though this isn't the ideal Meng Yao wanted (he can't, in good conscience, think his father will ever see him as anything more than a glorified whore now), it's... Comfortable. He's happy, he thinks, or some close approximation of it, even when restlessness still crawls over his skin sometimes.

But there's hardly time to think of that. The Sunshot Campaign is over at last and it's been months since Meng Yao's been able to actually see Nie Mingjue or the others. Their victory had been an uphill battle all the way; while it had taken a long time to convince Nie Mingjue to send Meng Yao into Wen Ruohan's arms and his bed under the pretense that Meng Yao had been banished. But Meng Yao's information had been invaluable and led directly to their victory at long last.

But the victory march home had come and gone, the celebratory banquet lasting long into the night, and Meng Yao unable to spare more than a few seconds of time to greet Mingjue before being whisked away into the fuss of it all. He remained perfectly poised and charming as always, ignoring how dirty he felt, how exhausted. He ignores the way his clothes catch on particular bruises or marks, showing none of it.

But he's eager for hen the noise begins to die down and everyone begins to retreat to their rooms, when he can slip ahead to Mingjue's familiar quarters and just take a breath of the familiar scent that reminds him of home. He has his own quarters, somewhere, but even before he'd left he'd hardly used them. A bath had been drawn ahead of them, but he won't pretend it as drawn for him and him alone.

He waits instead, kneeling in the center of the room, feeling butterflies in his stomach once more. It reminds him of earlier days, when he'd first presented himself to Mingjue, when he'd been a little younger and a virgin still and full of anxiety on everything going right.

It had been too long and he was impatient to see him. The wait was more torturous knowing that he would be there any second.

remainingtwin

【the ❝NSFW CALL ME OUT❞ meme】
a roleplay meme to inspire muses.

( LJ CUT TEXT )

blackwaterchild

( That hand beckoning me to the other side )

aswium

meme continuations and stuff

i'll put a nice graphic here one day its 1am and i don't feel like it rn

profiction

remainingtwin

onerous

lighteningflames

Muses here! Including a list in the comments of additional muses.

♛ refer to the list above for active muses.
♛ post "calling" one of them out — you can do so by putting their name in the subject line!
♛ can be informal/formal/comment spam/crosscanon/explicit/whatever tickles your fancy!
♛ feel free to make up a scenario, leave a picture, prompt, etc. at the start, or wait to see where things go.

meme code.

speaksvolumes

( your text here )

remainingtwin

( an attempt is being made )

onerous

( These wings can't fly // but if they could // I'd fly away from this pain )

mermaiding

( So an eel and a mermaid walk into a domestic not-quite-au... )

remainingtwin

( Or something )

mermaiding

[ A ]

[She's gotten the hang of walking and running by now, thankfully, even if it's still a pain. It's slow and painful and she'd rather kiss a humpback anglerfish than keep going like this. But it's, slowly, getting her from one place to another. Like the woods she's currently in.

Maybe your character is going on an adventure, maybe they're in someone's backyard; either way there's Oona crouching by a river, staring intently into the water. After a moment she moves fast and plucks a small fish right out from the river and turns it in her hands, inspecting it. There's a sigh and a shrug, and she unceremoniously sinks her teeth into it.]

[ B ]

[She hated towns the most. She hate the weird stares or calls she got for her clothing or lack of shoes. She hated the smell and the noise, and most of all she hated the humans. They were everywhere she looked, brushing against her when she walked or smiling deceptive smiles at her as she passed.

She bared her teeth and picked up her pace, bare feet slapping at the pavement and ignoring the little or rocks or whatever was on the ground that might cut at them. It didn't matter, because she had to keep moving. The pull of magic that could lead her to her scale was still faint here, indicating she was still no where near to finding it.

It was suffocating out here. She couldn't breathe.

Desperate to escape she ducks into the nearest store or alley at a run, not paying any mind to where she was going or who she might (literally) run into.]

[ C ] [AU for worlds w/lesser technology. Oona in a travelling side-show instead of being held captive by scientists]

[It hurt.

Every step was agony, a knife-sharp pain shooting up her calves and all she could do was grit her teeth and bear it. It was unfortunate that she didn't even have to do that much anymore, really. The pain was an old friend right now and she'd gotten used to it enough that unless she'd been sitting and resting for too long, the pain became cloistered in the back of her head. Constant, but manageable.

She hates that she's been at this long enough to reach that point.

A peddler tries to sell her wares (some kind of bread) to the mermaid as Oona passes, but Oona bares her teeth in an animalistic snarl and the girl retreats in haste.] Do not talk to me, human! [The snap comes before she can think to stop it (she wouldn't stop it anyhow, really), and she turns away, bare feet stirring up dust on the street.

Belatedly she realizes she is hungry and dammit she could've at least stolen the bread and ran or something. Probably should steal some proper clothes while she's at it; humans were rather touchy about the amount of skin showing. Normally this wasn't a problem since Oona tended to stick to the wilderness, but coming into town it presented a problem. They either got the wrong idea of why she was wandering around (and while Oona had a very laissez faire attitude in regards to sex, she was never quite pleased to be mistaken for a prostitute) or assumed she was up to no good some other way.

Food first though. She stops in front of a stand selling fruit and stares contemplatively, brows furrowed. The man there eyes her distastefully and reminds her it'll cost money.]

Eh? What? ['Money,' he repeats, looking more annoyed. He gives her a price that's probably way more than it'd actually cost, but she stares at him blankly.]

Money? What is-- ah. Like what they got for shows... [This is mused to herself before she continues] I do not have this 'money' thing. Give it to me anyhow.

['That's not how this works, lady,' the man replies, looking increasingly unamused. His apprentice pauses as he passes, shooting Oona strange looks. 'You look familiar,' he says and while Oona's eyes widen in alarm, the older man just looks exasperated. 'Yeah! Like the mermaid, from the show--']

Do not know what you are saying! Just-- Eh, no, do not even want it anymore! Is probably terrible anyhow! [her voice rises in panic and she whirls about, fully intent to push anyone out of her way to get away before the boy can draw any more conclusions here, hunger be damned. The little show she'd been forced to travel with had been a tad more famous than Oona was apparently ready for.]

[ D ]

[Have your own scenario or idea for a thread start? Wanna set something in a game or drop a picture or something? Go ahead and write it up, or not, and I'll go along with it!]

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Musebox

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