#'sent a month ago' 🧍 oops

[riwrite]

from @deiscension. For perhaps the hundredth time this year, Shi Qingxuan is seated beside Ming Yi at a banquet. There's nothing out of the ordinary about it. Except, the Middle Court attendants have begun clearing away platters and steamers and pots a fair bit earlier than she would expect them to. A discreet glance over the shoulder of a martial god who has been talking at them for the past few minutes shows her most of their fellow officials have meandered to this palace's many balconies for further socializing. Oh dear. The host seems to have forgotten since she was in attendance, then the Earth Master would be too. Eyes never once leaving the god's face, Shi Qingxuan lifts two soup dumplings from her own plate and onto Ming Yi's. A portion of squirrel fish follows closely behind. She nods along to the official's chatter, laughs or gasps when appropriate, shares an anecdote of her own, and suggests the other tell his tale to others while everyone is gathered in one place. "Take note, Ming-xiong." She punctuates her sentence by scooting a few lotus roots in the direction of his plate. "That is how you get your space back, not by glaring at them so hard their ancestors feel it."

the only reason he xuan attends these things is for the food ( shi qingxuan would be fine by herself, no matter what she says when she begs him to join her. she's a social butterfly, always spoiling those around her and bringing laughter in her wake. yet... do the others here see her as more than someone to get drunk with ? someone more than to hang around in the hopes that she'll toss them a handful of merits in a bout of generous whimsy ? ). he couldn't care less for the social aspect — every last heavenly official is a fool and an idiot, pretending they're above humanity all for the fact that the power granted by their worshipers spares them of the need for food or sleep or other such earthly things. they get to choose to indulge.

but a ghost is driven by their hunger, and he xuan starves. in the most literal way possible, yes, unlike others of his kind, but for other things as well. revenge, love... all things more typical of the undead. at least of those who were lucky enough not to be deprived of food in life. but that literal starvation, the endless abyss in him — that's the easiest one to feed. so, when the idea of eating doesn't make him want to claw at his false skin ( it doesn't usually, but it happens. there is truly no in-between for him ), he eats far more than any living thing should be able to stomach. but it hasn't given him away yet. as far as anyone else is concerned, it's just an odd quirk of the earth master. heavenly officials are fools and idiots, yes, and it really does benefit him that they are.

he pays no attention to the conversation between shi qingxuan and the god sitting across from them, their voices washing over him in wordless nonsense, too focused on his chopsticks and the plates in front of him. he makes no acknowledgement to her passing him extra bits of food, either. this is the normal for them, it'd be stranger for him to thank her.

   ( he doesn't even notice other officials beginning to get up and socialize elsewhere, their food being cleared away. )

her words register once they're directed at him, though. teasing and light, with the knowledge that he would sooner renounce his ( supposed ) divinity than glare with all the power of a hundred or more resentful spirits when he's annoyed. ming - xiong might as well be his true name now for how easily he answers to it, as much as that sickens him. maybe one day he'll finally hear he xuan said in her voice. in reverence, in fear... the manner in which his name is delivered doesn't matter. only the distant promise that it might happen. someday.

he directs his glare to her, softened, out of the corner of his eye, not even bothering to face her. and he says nothing, only shoving a lotus root into his mouth with an annoyed grunt.