Empatheias-themed call me out

[fanfictionming]

"Empatheias is a large, floating island and is the last remnant of a destroyed world. Its only city, Verens, is a somewhat strange place with its steampunk design and magitech technology. No two buildings ever seem to look the same, but perhaps it's not just because of the nature of its fashion. Emotions also help to change and sometimes warp the city and the island itself. Through these emotions, the island continues to grow, revealing more about what happened to the world below. These emotions can also play a role in much smaller ways. A simple laugh can illuminate a room, an angry outburst can shatter windows. The grass can both grow and wither depending on who is standing on it.

These emotions are collected in special crystal amulets and it is this amulet that you will rely on throughout your stay. As you meet and interact with people, explore the world, and go about your daily life, it will fill with the various emotions you experience. Keep it close, for it may prove to be the key to returning home.

Until then, get to know your new "home" and neighbors. Who knows what will be revealed next?"

((OOC: A call-me-out post set in the setting of the Dreamwidth RP Game empatheias. Credit to empatheias for the original concept and description, and credit to molybdenumgp03 for the image.))

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[800isenough]

[At first it seems like her plea doesn't work. His grip on his twin axes noticeably tightens, even, and a lightning bolt flashes out and strikes a table nearby, smashing it in half and drawing out screams and flinches from the other people in the wrecked building.

But as abruptly as the storm came, so does it end. Suddenly the rage just flows out of his face and his body, replaced with weariness and something akin to resignation. The cyclone around him subsides and the lightning vanishes, but the rain continues on, pouring down on their heads from the gaping hole in the roof that he had unknowingly punched through with that ugly display of temper.

The water washes away some of the blood on his face, and with it all of the anger that had so consumed him. Zhang Liao takes a step back and bows to Diaochan; his shoulders still remain stiff, a sign that he's still tense, but he's calm now. Calm, stoic, and emotionless.

God, he's tired of feeling.]

...my lady. Please stay here and rest.

[His tone is quiet, almost regretful. And the truth is that he is very, very sorry that he lost his temper so badly. But even now he's still holding back other emotions that he can't afford to show Diaochan because there would just be too much questions and no good answers.

It's a good thing that it's raining so heavily already; it already perfectly matches how wretched he feels. With one last bow he turns around and marches back out into the pouring rain.]

timeskip next right?

[danseusing]

[It's okay. She's tired of feeling, too. Except she knows that feelings eventually make everything count, which is probably why she's so much more familiar with them.

Her... shoulder still aches, but while the gash on her foot hurts, she's easily combat ready. A part of her still seeks to protest, but a stronger part of her forces her knees to stay. Her entire form is slouched-- unbecoming of a dancer, but she has to give off the impression that she's too tired to go anywhere.]

I will. ['Don't worry about me'? Will he only find that suspicious?

...Well, if anything, she has to stay here to make sure those taking refuge aren't threatened any further. They'll all get out of this. Alive.

And then, after all that, she can think about how puzzling Zhang Liao's emotions are.

She's about to wish him luck, but the words die in her throat, as if she's afraid to say them. Which... is true, isn't it? That's why it's even colder around Diao Chan (as if it needed to be, the water is going to freeze on her skin--).

At least, she'll still seek him out later.]

exactomundo!

[800isenough]

[The monster swarms are cleared up by the next day, but Zhang Liao's work is far from done.

Aware that he's caused severe property damage from his little outburst, he returns back to the little tea house in the early morning. The proprietor is understandably nervous and jittery when he sees Zhang Liao approach; he ponders, briefly, if that's why the owner agreed to let him fix the roof to make amends. Perhaps the man felt that his life would be in danger if he refused? Zhang Liao couldn't blame him, really. Even back home his presence put most of the townspeople on edge, and even the children would run away when they saw him coming from afar. These things happen when the public opinion paints you as a vicious and violent fighter, almost as demonic as the very monsters you had slain to protect the people. So that's why he doesn't mind. Or at least, he tries not to mind.

For today he's dressed in the simpler garb of Verens; that makes it easier for him to climb up to the roof and repair it. And he works quietly and diligently without complaint; roof repairs is nowhere as exhilarating as martial arts but given how emotionally spent he still is from yesterday, he finds this mundane, repetitive but simple task relaxing, a break from everything that's happened and from all the fighting and killing.]

[danseusing]

[She's wearing a jacket today.

It's a thin black one that doesn't throw too much attention, except for the fact that she doesn't usually cover her arms, even on days where the cold threatens to snake its way into her bones. There's a hideous bruise spanning across her shoulder, but it'll go away soon enough-- though, her first instinct is to still buy something to hide it.

Zhang Liao isn't by the guardhouse. Seeing that it was the usual place people said he frequented other than the outskirts of civilization, she's... a bit lost on where to look next. Diao Chan doesn't forget the incident at the teahouse, of course (why would she?).

And, well. She shouldn't be surprised to see him.]

Master Zhang Liao?

[But just in case, she calls out to him tentatively. Are you already working?! It's barely been a few hours... and at this point, it's the late afternoon by the time Diao Chan finds him.]

[800isenough]

[His hammer pounds out a steady rhythm against the wood, almost like a drummer's beat. Nails had yet to be invented by 2nd century China; it's still a little baffling to him, how such a small thing could hold a much larger piece of wood together even if the planks are peppered with the tiny stakes. But it seems to work so...perhaps that relates back to the old idiom on how a single strand of grass is so easily snapped, but an entire bundle will hold fast When tugged.

But then again...a sharp sickle will cut through a bundle just as fast as it would sever a single strand. Zhang Liao thinks of himself as that sickle, while the enemy soldiers that thought to group together to take him down...they're just like the grass. And he cuts all of them down all the same, whether individually or together.

...and he did blow up this roof by himself too.

That train of thought didn't end too well; guilt is an emotion he's too acquainted with. The branches of a tree nearby bend with the weight of what he feels; Zhang Liao sighs, takes a deep breath and steadies himself, watching as the branches slowly straighten back to their original position. There's no point in feeling regret about things that have happened.

And then there's feeling bad about things that are ongoing. Like the big, big issue of how he shouldn't be thinking of a certain dancer in a certain manner.

Zhang Liao hears his name being called out. He keeps his balance easily as he walks to the edge of the roof and salutes Diaochan, being extra careful this time to keep his emotions under check.]

My lady. The owner is inside, if you wish to speak with him.

[Though he has a sinking, sinking feeling that she's not here to talk about her job prospects with the proprietor. And the tree branches begin to bend again.]