chanteuser: (Default)
Alex Benedetto ([personal profile] chanteuser) wrote2020-10-13 12:50 pm
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dianxias: (30.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-16 02:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he nods again. ]

I mean, of course, we have things to cook, but it's more often over coals or a fire, not... where you simply press a button, and your food becomes warm...
dianxias: (128.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-16 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
[ .... ???????????


have mercy on him he's dumb ]
dianxias: (96.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-16 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, that. [ xie lian laughs, as if that is completely normal. ]

I am, yes. I'm not even the oldest person here, can you believe that? I hardly can.
dianxias: (10.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-17 01:59 pm (UTC)(link)
It is rather difficult, but I think I'm getting the hang of it.

[ xie lian smiles, a little sheepish. ] I haven't set anything on fire with the stove, or anything, and the PHS is a little hard for me to use sometimes, but I think I'm adapting well enough.

The last place that we visited was very exciting, though. I'd never even dreamed of so many of those things!
dianxias: (16.)

w2 post execution!

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-18 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ well! that was fun. at least they caught the right person, i guess.

xie lian seems to be heading out when he spots alex! as ever, he has a friendly smile for her, and a polite bow. ]
Good afternoon, Miss Alex. Would you like to come for a walk with me?
dianxias: (173)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-18 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[ huh...

he nods, and settles to walk with her, at an easy pace. xie lian tucks his hands in his sleeves, looking to the side at alex. ]


I usually find a walk clears my head out, after the events of the weekend. How are you holding up...?
dianxias: (5.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-18 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
That's very true.

[ xie lian hums. ] ...Perhaps I can help, a little? We could make a list and try to tackle it together; I'm feeling much of the same.
dianxias: (97.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-19 12:19 am (UTC)(link)
I have the same questions.

[ xie lian huffs a little laugh. ] I have absolutely no idea for the first. For the second... I think the only answer that might make sense, unfortunately, would be a Leader.
dianxias: (159)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-28 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ wow can't believe it's time for alex to share another mem in the saloon!!

i mean. xie lian spots alex and brightens; as she waves, he gives her a little bow in greeting. ]
Hello, Miss Alex - I was! Would you like to join me?

[ he loves... food. ]
dianxias: (203)

1/2

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-29 01:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[ yeah. boy howdy.

xie lian can't help but smile, as he holds up his mutton! ]
This! it's delicious. Really, everything is... the tomatoes, too! You know, I just think they're the most interesting thing. It's a fruit! But, it tastes like it should be a vegetable? I'm not -

[ as he's reaching for his tomato to demonstrate, however, ruoye realizes that its Favorite Person is here, and comes disobediently wiggling out of xie lian's sleeve to say hello... and pops a bubble in the process. ]

...Ah.


[ uh oh. ]
dianxias: (180)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-29 02:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[ you are twenty years old, laying on a broken bed in a ramshackle house, feeling a torrent of emotions - misery, anger, paranoia - and have no rest.

you know this place as your temporary home. it is not - it is nothing like what you're used to, nothing like any of you are used to. nothing is anything like it used to be, and you have just finished trying to explain something to your former bodyguard - and you are angry. you've never been more angry, and bitter, and sad. this isn't you, your bodyguard told you, and you didn't care.

you don't get much time to stew today, though, because there is a knock at your door. you stay there, unmoving, for a moment, but eventually lift your exhausted head, and call out to whoever's on the other side.

"my son, it is your mother. let mother come in and take a look at you, alright?"

and no matter how angry, how miserable you are, you cannot refuse that request. you rise to your feet and answer the door, and she stands there.

she is beautiful, even now, though the weight of her exhaustion makes her seem older than she is. your beloved mother doesn't look like she fits in this place - she's too beautiful for it, ethereal, someone who has always been wealthy and now is poor, with a plate in her freshly weathered hands. she smiles at you, and you can see she's just as tired as you are. "My son, you haven't eaten yet, right?"

what she has on the plate looks terrible. it looks truly terrible, and smells foul, and the first thing you think is even if i haven't eaten, i don't want to eat what you've made, but the words die in your throat, because it is your mother, and you have stomached her cooking a thousand times since things became like this. you have begged her not to cook too much - you are a fine cook, so you do it, but right now, you just can't, and your mother...

you step to the side, to let her in the room.

"look," she says.

you feel a rise of bitterness again, and ask, "what's that?"

your mother gestures to the plate and says, in a serene voice, as if she is offering you treasure, "this is "Lovebirds Upon a Branch Meatballs", and this, is "Blooming Flowers and Full Moon Stew."

they both look absolutely horrendous. you interrupt her. "why did you name these things?"

"don't all dishes have names?"

"...that's for imperial dining, in the palace." you say, and the memory of your once charmed life touches the edges of your mind, the way your mother still looks like she will never belong, like a diamond placed in a coal mine, "Ordinary folks don't give names to dishes."

the queen falls silent for a moment. she watches you, then looks down at her dish, and then... she smiles at you, and you love your mother's smile. it feels like home. "Well, no one said you have to be dining imperially in order to give dishes names, so just take this as a wish for good fortune."

she hands you the chopsticks. you stare at her. you don't - you don't know what to say, and the memory fades away there.]
dianxias: (196)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-29 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ....


that is not what he's expecting!

he blinks, surprised. ]
What? I... Of course I did.

She was... my mother was incredibly precious to me. [ in fact, even more so than he ever really did his father. xie lian was a mama's boy through and through.

he glances down at his plate, and suddenly just feels a wave of quiet sadness, threatening to rise up in him, tied to something else, other memories of his mother. for a moment, he's thankful to the bubbles, that this was all they showed - perhaps it is a good thing to explain.

xie lian pushes it down, and huffs, a soft, near vulnerable noise. nostalgia threads into his voice. ]
...That... she was a terrible cook, my mother. Her food could make birds fall dead out of trees if you left the window open.
dianxias: (27.)

[personal profile] dianxias 2020-10-30 02:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he laughs, a little. ]

...I was certainly not in a very good place, at the time of that memory [ it was, actually, the worst time of his entire life; he was teetering on the edge of a mental breakdown. ] - but even before that, I did not want to.

...My mother was a queen. She had never had to cook a meal in her life, until we left the palace. But, she tried to learn all of the hard parts of common life the best that she could, sometimes successfully, and sometimes not. Even if it was horrible, it made her so happy when we ate her food, that I always ate it. We would, of course, try to convince her away from cooking somehow, but... I loved my mother, and we were miserable, so I would do anything to make sure she was happy, even that. Her food, with its silly names...

[ something in him softens, then, and he lifts his hand, touching his heart. ]

...You know, I used to be a pretty decent cook. I was naturally talented at most anything in my youth, so it wasn't difficult for me to figure out. [ that is probably hard to believe but.

it's about to make a lot more sense. ]
...my mother passed away not long after that memory, and so did my father. Naming food, and some of her conventions of cooking... I started off making her terrible recipes on purpose, and I still name dishes now. Of course, now, I'm unable to cook entirely, because that was a very, very long time ago... but that was how it began.

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