sunluzhen

[sunluzhen]

Okay, now that's a funny response. Xiaotian can't help but laugh, though they're quick to cover their mouth and shake their head in some semblance of manners.

"Bud, I'm the wrong kind of demon for that business! Nah, though, I just got a lot of leftovers from my catering earlier today. I don't like wastin' stuff, so. Plus, it's lunar new year's! Perfect weather for a free hot bowl of noodles too, yeah? It'll warm you right up!"

Chara stares at the bowl of noodles and the offered chopsticks.

The bowl of noodles and offered chopsticks stare back at them.

The child frowns, squinting.

>ITEM >>>>>CHECK

It is a normal bowl of noodles, in a normal bowl, offered with normal chopsticks. There is a slightly spicy smell clinging to the meal, with an average amount of egg and veggies for this particular regional dish

Hm.

Chara glances back up at the stranger. Their expression is as sober as always.

“What is the catch. Am I required to join a cult upon partaking in your noodles.”

[sunluzhen]

Ah. Right. While no time has passed for them, it must've been another story entirely for his mentor. (Nothing he can really do about that, though. Unfortunately.) "Ehhhh... Last night? Today?" They shrug, shuffling past Wukong to place the tower of snacks on the coffee table.

The lack of any other guests and Wukong's disheveled state isn't a surprising one. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, nonetheless. People really do just come and go from this city without any rhyme or reason to it...

Nothing to do but be present, here and now, while they can.

"Sorry for bein' a little late. Woke up, realized the date on my phone was waaaay different from when I went to bed-- I had to do, like, a lot of last-minute shopping. Man... It's the year of the little dragon already! Ain't that crazy?"

He is still chasing the dream from the other night when he is woken up - rather unceremoniously - by a monkey ripping the blanket off of him and screaming in his face. Wukong groans and turns away, but it jumps on his head and continues bothering him, undeterred.

"What, is someone fighting outside again? Is the house on fire?" He asks, eyes closed and voice still groggy with sleep. Wukong specifically asked to not be bothered in the days coming up to New Years unless there is an emergency and he's not sensing anything off with the house other than the weird ringing noise- oh. The doorbell. "Please don't tell me you woke me up because you ordered something online again and need me to sign for it. I thought we agreed that is not an emergency."

The monkey chitters at him and for a moment the words don't quite register... And then he jumps up in bed, wide awake. "Wait, seriously?" The monkey nods and Wukong swears, looking around frantically before grabbing a decent-looking robe from the laundry chair and hastily putting it on. His tail grabs Mary Sue's hairbrush and drags it through his hair, not accomplishing much other than making his look more frizzy.

"How do I look?" The monkey looks him up and down. And grimaces. "..Yeah, figures."

Well, he doesn't exactly have time to make himself any more presentable. MK is not exactly the most patient person and Wukong would like to keep his doors on their hinges this time. So he opens the door with a smile that is only a little tight and voice only a little raspy from sleep.

"Kid! When- when did you get back?" He looks over the tower of snacks and steps to the side to let his student pass. "Come on in, it's too cold out."

[sunluzhen]

Xiaotian just... blinks, leaning against his cart. His tail flicks casually off to the side. Wow, this is one bitey little kid. "Well, I wasn't doin' much sneakin', but aight bud."

And, clearly, they're also hungry, despite whatever they're hissing and spitting about. "Well, I've been handin' out these nice, hot bowls of noodles for the occasion. Wanna try some?" They offer Chara a bowl and some chopsticks, an encouraging smile on their face. "It's New Year's, after all! Gotta eat some noodles for long life, y'know, that's how it goes."

This place is too crowded.

Chara doesn’t like it. It puts them on edge. There are too many people — too many humans. They crowd around, and it makes the little monarch wish they had just stayed in the woods like they had declared they would.

But their stomach is growling, and over the years of, you know, being dead, they forgot what it’s like to be hungry. So they had set foot for the settlement, determined to buy something quick and leave before being noticed.

The child startles at the stranger, shoulders hiking up as they step back. Eyes narrow, and they bite hard at their bottom lip.

“No. I am not. You should not sneak up on children.”

— and, right as they say that, their traitorous stomach gives a particularly loud growl.

“Fuck.”

[sunluzhen]

@sunsage liked for a starter!

For Xiaotian, not much time has passed since the last time he was in Spirale. But a quick glance at the calendar is enough to inform them that time has, in fact, passed.

Well, crud.

Nothing to do about that, though, other than to just pick up where they last left off.

Or, well, maybe not that. He doesn't remember their last conversation well, but it wasn't a very fun one. (Another strange event caused by the Stars, he's pretty sure. He doesn't think he was entirely there for most of it. He's determined not to think too hard about it.)

There are much more important things — such as waltzing right up to Monkey King's house carrying an armful of snacks and sparklers for the new year's. He could just help himself inside, but it's not his house and that'd be rude. So, he uses his tail to ring the doorbell. And knock on the door. Then ring it again because he's actually not sure if Wukong is home—

"Monkey King! Answer the door already, my arms are full!"

[sunluzhen]

Oh yeah, have you guys seen this design?

I legit thought it was mk for a second

[sunluzhen]

@charadrxxmxrr liked for a starter!

It was a pretty nice day out. Still colder than Xiaotian would have liked, but with a thick coat of fur they don't really have much room for complaining.

At least the weather meant people were more inclined to indulge on a nice, hot meal! Especially with the lunar festivities coming up again soon— why not get a head start on that festive spirit?

So, the little monkey was making their rounds through town, offering up bowls of noodles from the little cart they've decided to tote around for the day.

"Hey there! You hungry? Got some piping hot bowls, on the house!"

[sunluzhen]

Alriiiiight let's get the ball rolling again! New year, new start!

Like for a starter; capped at 3!

(Sun Wukong exempt as always)

[sunluzhen]

Xiaotian really, really wasn't a fan of the spooky cold mist thing going on-- reminded them too much of her. They're not really sure what to make of her reaction though, though at least they get their bowl back.

"Uh," okay, maybe they should not respond with something along the lines of 'you sound like something out of a drama'. Now that'd just be asking to get slapped upside the head or something. (The way the person in front of them speaks definitely reminds them of such things, though, for sure.) "O...kay. Uh, most of my friends just call me MK, but uh, my name's Xiaotian?" An awkward pause. "Uh, what do you go by?"

Uraume noted the thin veneer hiding the simian-featured child, the first irritant that plagued the interaction. They stammered over their words, providing a long-winded explanation to formally address the situation. Second irritant. The prolonged explanation concluded with the third irritant, an insult.

"Tch."

Frozen mist diffused the air surrounding their forms, momentarily shrouding the two from onlookers. The temptation rose to launch the bowl upon the child's head grew, though words seemed to be far more effective considering the child refused to breathe when they spoke.

"Be direct when you speak" they replied, heavily flopping the bowl into the child's unique hands. "Insincerity begets rifts." Uraume tucked their hands into their sleeves, the frigid mist dissipated gradually with Uraume's frustrations. "Child, what is your name?"

[sunluzhen]

"Man, it's winter again already? That's crazy. You think the weather machine here's gonna make another month-long blizzard or what?"

[sunluzhen]

Xiaotian watches Wukong with a blank look, tilting his head as his gaze drifts back to the muddled water once again. All this talk about colors-- but paint was just paint at the end of the day. Before applying color, a common method is to imply the values in grayscale. The sketch comes before line art, before color-blocking, before the final piece...

Nothing had changed. Not really. It only looks that way, framed in a way that exaggerates the pieces. But... "It's still going to be there, though, no matter how hard you try, won't it? Even after the city returns to the way it was."

He doesn't really know what to say to that. Looking down, Wukong watches the paint trickle off of him. Only a few streaks of paint are left on him right now and they are slowly sliding down, leaving him cold and colourless.

It's not really such an unfamiliar feeling, now that he pays more attention to it. It feels a lot like... a bad day. One where moving feels like an effort and he doesn't really want to do much other than sleep. Everyone has those from time to time, he's sure. At least he knows how to deal with it. Wukong smiles a little, trying to project a more light tone now that most of the panic left him. "I can pick a better colour later. It's not actually that hard, I had a few on me from just meeting people."

It's something that he was planning on doing eventually, but in the moment removing the black paint as soon as possible felt more important. Reaching up, Wukong swipes a hand under the bend of his neck and flicks the paint from his hand into the water. "Just not this one. It's not good for me. Or anyone, really. Better to get rid of it altogether."

[sunluzhen]

Season 5 hurt me so much I will never recover

[sunluzhen]

"I don't think that's dealing with it," he mumbles, tail idly swishing in the water behind him. MK does stop trying to get closer, at least, though not without a frustrated look briefly flickering across their face. (It's not directed at Wukong, not exactly.)

"Like— how's what you're doing right now a good thing?" he asks after a moment, glancing between the paint-stained water and Wukong's graying fur. It's so odd, seeing him so drained of color. (Yet, he's not rendered white. Gray, instead. Muted and muddled.) It leaves him feeling unsettled.

"What happened? With the ink."

"What's the point of running straight into it? C'mon, kid." A part of him is still annoyed at not being listened to, but he can't really muster enough emotion to get angry. Not at MK. (Only at himself).

Backing away doesn't have the intended effect, not when the paint keeps trailing after him, but he still moves away. The memory of his double circling him just like that is fresh on his mind and Wukong suppresses a shiver. Unwilling to look any more like a cornered animal, he raises his hands placatingly to keep some distance between them. "Can you just wait until I deal with this before you jump right into it?"

And maybe he's not only talking about the ink either.

[sunluzhen]

They give a little huff at his words, taking a couple steps forward even as Wukong tries to back away. They don't know why they're doing this, but there's a part of them that wants to be contrary for the sake of it— and another part of them that ultimately wants to comfort their mentor.

They're well aware of what the black ink represents, most likely. Maybe they should be just as apprehensive as Wukong about it remaining in the water, but...

"What's the point in running away from it?" They blurt out, steadily closing that distance. The white doesn't seem to be washing away — it's not exactly a color, after all.

They're not really talking about the ink stains.

They step forward and he steps back, diluted paint trailing off of him in the water.

"I wouldn't tell you not to if it wasn't bad." He reasons, looking at the inky black water with something like apprehension. This is also the first time he gets a full look at MK and the kid doesn't look so great either, all muted, deadly white. Some part of him that would stay even if turned fully gray hurts at the sight, wants to comfort his student, but he can't get close. Not while he's still dripping angry black everywhere.

He wishes not for the first time that someone who was better at this was here. Someone MK might actually listen to.

"It's - it's not gonna make you feel better, bud. I can promise you that much."

[sunluzhen]

Their expression twists as they watch Wukong. Not quite a frown. Uncertain. After a beat, they take a step closer despite his words.

"Is that a bad thing?" They ask, tilting their head as they glance down at the dirtied water. The waves will take it away from the shore before long. Probably. Something about that bothers them.

They take another step closer, letting the ink-stained water lap at their feet. It's a strange sensation. The water trying to wash away something that's not there; and the ink that hasn't fully dissolved quite yet. "It's just paint," they say, aiming for a light tone— their voice falls a little flat, instead.

It's not like Wukong could stop them, whispers a voice in the back of their head. It gives them pause.

He tenses up when he hears the familiar voice, but doesn't swear out loud, which is good enough. Enough of the colour washed off of him that everything feels comfortably muted, and uncomfortably cold. "Hey, kid."

Scooping another handful of water, he pours some over his hair, making more black (and gold, and orange, and blue, where some is still left) seep off of him. It's not a pleasant sensation, but it's better that way. Easier.

(Part of him still wishes MK didn't have to see this, but it gets quieter as he turns more gray).

"It's fine. Just don't come too close, okay?" He gestures at the mess of wet paint around him. "You'll get stained."

[sunluzhen]

Xiaotian wakes up to a world drained of color. Everything feels — off. Muted. Distant. For a moment, he blinks, and it's almost as if he's in that strange place again; the stark white of an empty canvas, instead of muted greys.

That horrible, horrible place.

He can't bring himself to feel much of anything. Like he, himself, is a blank sheet of paper. Or, rather, a piece of bleached clay ready to be remolded and released into a crumbling world once again—

He drags himself out of bed, hair and fur unkempt, and stares at his reflection. White, like that place between the ordered world and the hundun that the Mother was so determined to shield it from. White is an awful color. It's the color of death.

Nevermind the fact white isn't actually a color. It's ironic, in a way. Or maybe not, the more he thinks about it. All he's been doing lately is thinking. Nothing good has ever come from it, but he can't help it.

He sighs, and turns away from the mirror. He barely catches a glimpse of his reflection frowning at him as he does so. He stares out into the empty night for a long moment. Minutes, even, before opening his window and promptly climbing out and onto the roof.

It's cold out tonight. Or maybe that's just him.

Implied suicide / themes of sacrifice.

As he looks up at the stars, he wonders; how many times has the little pebble been asked to repair the heavenly pillar? Have the past versions of himself ever hesitated or fumbled on their single task, their sole purpose for being? He thinks of the guardians, and then thinks— knows— the answer to be a resounding no.

The previous hims had no reason to live. At that point the world would be in the midst of its death throes, long after anyone was meant to live. Was there ever anyone to greet him? Did they ever try to stop the newly hatched stone monkey from marching straight into his destined end?

...does it matter?

Does anything matter, really?

Canon Point Update: Season 5.

[sunluzhen]

"Monkey King?" Says a small voice from behind him, an MK that's been completely washed out of any color — even to Wukong's gold vision, white is... white (though, perhaps he appears a bit yellow-tinted).

He stands at the edge of the water, not quite stepping on, but blankly watches the black ink deep into water. Distantly, a part of him feels anxious at the sight. The rest of him just feels— tired. Resigned, maybe.

"...it's a bit late to go swimming, isn't it?"

The sea is far too cold this late in autumn but he doesn't seem to care, lowering his hands into the frigid water and scrubbing at his face, trying to rid of the dark paint stuck to it. The water around him is starting to look like an oil spill.

[sunluzhen]

The culprit of who threw the ball was, evidently, a monkey. It was clear by the way he rushed over, wringing his hands together with an apologetic smile on his face.

"I'm SO sorry! Are you okay? I hope that toss wasn't too hard..." It was a little hard to hold back still, sometimes, but as far as he could tell she didn't seem hurt? No broken nose or, Buddha forbid, passing out immediately from accidentally hitting the ball any harder than he should've. The ball didn't burst, too, so that was another win. Probably?

@sunluzhen

The first thing Cheryl noted was the intense warmth of the sun. It was so bright that she initially questioned it was even real, and then pondered about whether or not she might get a sunburn. The beach front sprawled before her was massive, and Cheryl could not recall the last time she saw such a positive setting that was centered around water. Everyone seemed to be having fun, and it almost looked like a scene out of a movie that her friends in high school talked about.

So, naturally, Cheryl felt completely out of place.

Part of her wanted to run back to that new 'home' of hers, but another wanted to walk through the sand, to feel the water on her legs. She wondered just who wanted what, but, there was little reason in spending time on something that was, probably, futile.

... That, and a volleyball happened to hit her in the face as she was moving towards the beach.

"Ow!"

"What the Hell?"