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[daozhangs]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, XIAO.XINGCHEN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 *** XIAO.XINGCHEN has joined 018.07.154.55 <XIAO.XINGCHEN> You have reached Xiao Xingchen. <XIAO.XINGCHEN> I am often away from my laptop, but I will do my best to answer as soon as I'm able.

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[daozhangs]

( though he was only just considering it, runyu having grown quite accustomed to the absence of goodness, hearing 'it was a rare occurrence for me to have company' still makes xingchen ache just the slightest bit. he himself has spent much of his life unaccompanied - even when working in tandem with zichen, they were apart nearly as often as they traveled together - but it was never quite the same sort of alone. it wasn't the sort of alone in which one can be surrounded by people but know that none wish to be around them. he can't quite imagine how that might feel.. the closest xingchen has ever come to that was the time just after zichen decided it best that they part ways, when he stumbled back down the mountain into a world which had no interest in associating with one they saw as 'crippled' lest they be trapped by responsibility for his care. he needed no care, but that was hardly the point, and even that much can't possibly compare to a lifetime of it.

then comes the part about discarding most of what few activities gave more purpose to the daily and routine, and runyu might catch a flicker of xingchen's brow at 'music belonged to xufeng' because how can music belong to a person? that's ridiculous. he takes another drink of his cider now (perhaps to occupy his mouth so he doesn't interrupt to say as much) and listens on, about woodworking and night-time walks and a game which runyu only refers to as 'go' - a game used to humiliate him, apparently.

and perhaps he has finally reached a bit of a breaking point on the matter, or perhaps the spirits have simply begun to affect him at least a little bit, because the care which it takes to reply to such a thing tactfully seems senseless right at this moment. ) Runyu, my friend, ( he says, quite definitively, ) the life which you've lived offends me. ( and if his tone is any indication, he means it offends him on runyu's behalf. in runyu's defense, perhaps.

and while it may have simply been an ambient declaration when he said it, it seems to congeal into something far more actionable, or at least something he intends to make actionable. he drains the rest of the mug now just as definitively as his words, then sets it aside for now to straighten up a bit in his seat, both hands settling on the edge of the table as if intending to stand but with no actual follow-through. ) The shop which sells my paint has plenty in more reasonable colors, so I'll fetch some of those next time I'm in Bavan - and perhaps some canvas? And you should perhaps describe this game of 'Go' to me, so that I might pick that up as well if I happen upon it. I'll be quite terrible at it, so there's no chance of humiliation there.

( and perhaps he should stop there, but he has too much momentum by now, so - ) And I'm terribly sorry to disappoint those within your realm, but music can't belong to a person. That simply isn't how such things work. That's like saying color belongs to a person, or that someone claims possession over a spring breeze. It's nonsense. Now, had they allowed you to enjoy music, ( or anything else it seems, ) was there an instrument you might have favored? Or do you prefer song?

[fishfairy]

[ Runyu can’t help but choke on some of the cider with his friend’s emphatic declaration on his behalf, his smile wide and somewhat lopsided. He looks into his mug. It’s still halfway full. He wonders if he’s already slowing down and feels a twinge of regret in his chest. His free hand twitches in a minute rebellion, unwilling to do just that.

Perhaps in the past, he has deserved some sympathy for these details of his life, but after the destruction he had wrought, he hasn’t considered the previous life to be enough punishment. The absence of much around him had been enough to ground him a righteous life, but his strength had been brittle. When his balance tipped, so too did his emotions and his nature. After the destruction, he has wondered, if the stillness in his life had held back the monster inside him. ]

( Runyu tips his cup back for a deeper drink before tilting his head, a melancholy lights flickering in his eyes, a yearning for something in past. ) Perhaps I don’t need to justify this; however, the truth is that it didn’t belong to him in that sense, but that he already showed an aptitude for it and my attempts could jeopardize his chances of recognition. Or so she believed. To be honest, the competition would have prepared him for the future, if he had been so inclined.

[ It’s habit, this defending of Xufeng’s position in their childhood, and despite the bloom of envy that's strangles him from their short war, he’s largely returned to that acceptance, ever since his brother appeared before him afterwards. His naivety had condemned them but there were worse factors at play. And in the end, Xufeng was still his brother. The only relative he had that still embraced him.

Still, his protests are not enough to stop the ripples of joy from escaping his soul with Xingchen's confident words. As if nothing would change them.

And with his confession already between them, perhaps nothing would.

The pressure of the coin pendant warms against his heart where it rests. He lets another secret out. ]

My mother played the goqin and taught me at a young age. There … aren’t many moments I shared with her like those when she was guiding my fingers and watching me. ( He chuckles again and looks out the window. ) Perhaps that’s why I got the dizzi and tried to learned it. I wanted to surprise her. That … didn’t happen. ( He drained his cup again. ) I had forgotten that.

[daozhangs]

( the token protest regarding music and xufeng is noticed, even acknowledged with an understanding little hum. the nuances will likely always be lost on xingchen, having grown up apart from such intricate politics, but he does understand that nothing is quite so black-and-white, and that xufeng himself may not have been at fault in the slightest for his supposed owning of the concept of music.

regardless, catching the faint sounds of runyu's drink reminds him to refill his own, now that he no longer has a point of strong importance to deliver. he's quite sure that he's starting to feel it, this cider - there's a warmth in him that even reaches his fingertips (or perhaps makes him forget the chill of them), and everything feels both slightly softer and slightly more vivid. more present in this moment rather than moments prior or moments to come.

but he's still far from properly intoxicated (yet?), and when he sets the bottle a bit closer to the center of the table so that runyu might reach, it's with no absence of his usual grace or spatial awareness. his friend has actually begun to answer the actual question now, his own head tilting a bit as he listens. then, )

Perhaps it didn't, but at least you made the attempt, ( he says, smiling a bit. then comes a sip of his cider and a thoughtful little hum, and the next words have a bit of a wondering lilt. ) I've always admired those with any talent in the arts. Music, artworks and painting, storytelling... I've found that I'm not especially creative, at least not in that sort of way.

[fishfairy]

( Runyu pours them both more of the cider, swirling it in his cup as he looks over his friend, a devious grin overcoming his features. ) You know I cannot believe that unless I see it. If you can write a letter, you can draw a picture. ( He chuckles, recalling the colorful ink the letter’s inscribed in. ) And you certainly enjoy your vibrant colors. Why not enjoy them more?

[daozhangs]

In my defense, ( xingchen fires back at once with a grin he can no longer deny, brows lifting just slightly, ) It's not my fault they're vibrant. I take whatever it is they've offered at discount. They could've been perfectly normal colors, for all I had known, or - ( he stops short, because a thought seems to have occurred to him. then comes a laugh, and: ) It could've been white. I could've written your letter in white paint and I'd never have known. ( and only here after the fact does it strike him that such a thing was possible.

but then he's dragging himself back to the topic at hand, realization fading some but his mood still bright. ) If you'd truly like me to paint you a picture, so be it, but once it's over you're entirely responsible for whatever abomination I've wrought. Are you sure you're prepared for such a thing?

[fishfairy]

[ Xingchen isn't the only one laughing at the shop sparing his friend from writing a letter in white and Runyu is still grinning when his friend returns to the topic of the painting

Head on his hand, his next words ring out in an even more flippant jest, something he's rarely ever let himself do - even with Xufeng. ]

Only you, my friend, would manage to create such a terrible thing out of a simple painting, but since I've put you up to it, I suppose I'll have to deal with the consequences.