un: bashful bard of the emboldened flute

[consignation]

[ You know how other people are using the network to disseminate important information? Or to gather data, make connections, organize expeditions?

Well, Jiang Cheng is going to use for something equally important, to him. He is going to use it to complain. ]

I don't know why I agreed to this. I don't know what I expected.

[ No introduction, no context, no real explanation. ]

The Lans are notoriously delicate. Bland diets, soft complexions, their beauty sleep.

Why. Would he even ask for this when he's clearly never stayed up past dusk in his life?!

[ All of this is delivered in a low, hushed, seething whisper.

Then, quieter, to his mystery companion— ]

What does my brother see in you—

Comments

audio: sweet sparrow under honeyed fingers

[silverneedles]

[ Stop complaining so much, Jiang Cheng, it's not healthy. ]

Why did you agree?

[consignation]

[ An angel descends upon his nighttime griping, unrequited captor of his heart, and does he recognize her voice? Absolutely not. He doesn't even stop to go 'huh, that sounds familiar, like happier times before war descended and I lost all the budding validity I had as a person'. He just goes right on complaining. ]

I don't know, blind optimism? The naive presumption that professionalism would outweigh the need for a toddler's bedtime? Jin Ling's curfew was later than this by the time he was twelve. Night hunts indeed—

[silverneedles]

[ Keep complaining, that's definitely one way to win over people. But the grumpiness is almost comforting, in an odd way; he hasn't changed that much. ]

Or did he fall asleep to escape conversation?

[consignation]

[ Jiang Cheng lets out a scoff. ]

He wouldn't make the effort, he'd just sit here in stony, contrary silence, glaring, or maybe his face is just stuck like that after all this time.