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.
...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.
Literally so, yes. Which... to answer what your next question I think may be [ "does that make you a prince" ] -- yes. Do bear in mind this was centuries ago, though.
[ a beat, and then -- xie lian scratches his cheek and laughs, sheepishly. ] Eheh... [ that's a yes. ]
Haha... sorry. If it helps, the kingdom has been gone for so long, it doesn't really matter. I only really think of it because people sometimes still call me "your highness", but even that's new.
[ he seems fairly unperturbed by this, taking a bite of whatever food he ordered. tasty! ]
Mn - and, not really. I've had a lot of time. [ to get. that bad at cooking. he also starved for like... seven hundred years, but he is also not dropping that emotional spaghetti on alex right now. he doesn't seem too perturbed by his own memory drop, so that's good, at least... time for another one from alex, ]
So I should just keep calling you as I have been, and not dropping any titles in there as well?
[ she looks more amused than anything. she couldn't really think about calling him something too fancy, not after she's seen him destroy meatballs and failing to open doors. ]
That's... impressive in its own way, Xie Lian. [ she's leaning over to try a bit of one of the dishes he's got on the table and, of course, sticks her hand right through a bubble thatpopsintoexistencerightwhereherhandwasgoing. ]
as xie lian comes out of the memory, he takes a sharp, surprised breath. alex's "why did it have to be me" echoes in the back of his mind, and it takes him one blink, two blinks, three to try and force himself to reality once more. ]
...Miss Alex. [ he says, softly, because -- what else do you say? his voice is heavy, compassion and sorrow and recognition for so much pain, all at once. he reaches across the table, where her hand was, and immediately covers it with his own. ]
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no subject
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.
no subject
[ xie lian... is this where your talents came from? ]
no subject
...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.
no subject
[ she leans forward a little listening to what he’s saying. ]
We do the most intense things for the people we love. Even eating food that isn’t well made.
... did you just cook the way for so long it overtook the cooking you were actually able to do?
no subject
[ a beat, and then -- xie lian scratches his cheek and laughs, sheepishly. ] Eheh... [ that's a yes. ]
no subject
[ ... ] That must've taken a lot of work.
no subject
[ he seems fairly unperturbed by this, taking a bite of whatever food he ordered. tasty! ]
Mn - and, not really. I've had a lot of time. [ to get. that bad at cooking. he also starved for like... seven hundred years, but he is also not dropping that emotional spaghetti on alex right now. he doesn't seem too perturbed by his own memory drop, so that's good, at least... time for another one from alex, ]
cw: gore, decapitation (... haha...)
[ she looks more amused than anything. she couldn't really think about calling him something too fancy, not after she's seen him destroy meatballs and failing to open doors. ]
That's... impressive in its own way, Xie Lian. [ she's leaning over to try a bit of one of the dishes he's got on the table and, of course, sticks her hand right through a bubble that pops into existence right where her hand was going. ]
OOF
as xie lian comes out of the memory, he takes a sharp, surprised breath. alex's "why did it have to be me" echoes in the back of his mind, and it takes him one blink, two blinks, three to try and force himself to reality once more. ]
...Miss Alex. [ he says, softly, because -- what else do you say? his voice is heavy, compassion and sorrow and recognition for so much pain, all at once. he reaches across the table, where her hand was, and immediately covers it with his own. ]
oo-oof...
I really, really don't like it when they just pop up like that.