[Taako recoils, pulling his hat down farther over his head, taking a second - he’s been remembering this one a lot recently, so it can’t be that much of a surprise, but something strikes him off about someone else being able to shed a tear about it.]
Oh, well, not a problem. Nothing to really, uh, succeed, on account of the whole poor orphan thing.
[SHRUG.]
I . . . I know you don’t know my backstory, but woof! What a loaded question. Yes and no? Kind of used to it, because I thought I was always alone, but then, surprise, I wasn’t!
[the mention of the poor orphan thing gets a curious tilt of his head, because he's not certain he'd have guessed-- but, well, he doesn't pry about that right now. he's more curious about the rest of it, and maybe also would rather talk more about taako before he inevitably gets memory doxxed himself, he Knows it's happening at some point.]
-that sounds like it would be worse than just being separated, really. Finding out you aren't and then being thrown into-- [a vague gesture around.] This entire mess.
It was a whole amnesia thing, very messy, hard to explain, but— Yeah. I agree, shit sucks! Think it’s extremely unfair I’ve had not one, not two, but three horrible murder based games! Thank for you understanding that, as always, Taako is the one hurt most by this.
but he can't go undoxxed forever, either-- and as soon as he's fetched a cup and set it on the counter, there it goes, their perspectives both shifting.]
[everything has been coming to a head, lately. the chief cultivator, jin guangyao, has finally (through your own efforts) been pinned as your brother's murderer. the pieces of his body have all been located and rejoined, save for the most important one-- you've been entrusted with the care of your brother's headless body, kept sealed to contain the resentful energy driving it mindlessly toward revenge.
you can understand the feeling. maybe you're a little jealous of how easy it must be to think of nothing else, to not have to balance a game board full of pieces that could tip over at any moment.
they never really expected you to find his head yourself. they're not going to see it coming when you let him loose again to go put an end to his murderer like he deserves to. but first, he has to be repaired, and you're putting every bit of care you have into your work to stitch his head back into place on his body, ignoring the needle when it pricks your thumb, ignoring your eyes when they sting and threaten to spill over. he doesn't look quite like he did when he was alive-- his skin is gray, his dark hair dull. but you still know this face so, so well.
you know he knows it's you too, because even a mindless fierce corpse recognizes their own bloodline. you know he won't understand anything you say, but you can hope that he does-- so you talk to him anyway. you say you know this isn't what he wanted for you. you know this isn't the path he'd have wanted you to take, and it's too underhanded to be one he'd take himself. would you be disappointed, da-ge, that i can't kill him with my own hands?
you remember him asking you a million times-- huaisang, where is your saber? and telling him a million times i don't know, i misplaced it, i left it in my room, i can't practice today! you ask him if he understands why. you ask him if he remembers the last time the two of you fought over it, before he died-- you never got a chance to make up. does he know you're sorry? does he know you realized then that something must be wrong? does he know how long you've spent trying to exact the only form of justice for it that you can?
does he know you would break every fucking thing for his sake, and does he know you don't regret the things you've done?
you aren't sure if you hope the answer is yes or no. you just keep sewing.
[boy, that's the mood, huh? nie huaisang isn't very eloquent about it either-- it's unpleasant to remember, never mind someone else seeing it. thanks, memshare, he hates it.]
Ah- you know, I think the tea I was looking for is over there, if you could just pass it over...
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Um. Twins. Yeah.
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I see-- I never really knew any. Bad for lines of succession, that sort of thing.
[a slight pause, there. he busies himself digging through a cupboard.]
...is it strange for you, then? To be here alone.
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[SHRUG.]
I . . . I know you don’t know my backstory, but woof! What a loaded question. Yes and no? Kind of used to it, because I thought I was always alone, but then, surprise, I wasn’t!
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-that sounds like it would be worse than just being separated, really. Finding out you aren't and then being thrown into-- [a vague gesture around.] This entire mess.
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[he's. skipping over that last part, sorry taako.
but he can't go undoxxed forever, either-- and as soon as he's fetched a cup and set it on the counter, there it goes, their perspectives both shifting.]
[everything has been coming to a head, lately. the chief cultivator, jin guangyao, has finally (through your own efforts) been pinned as your brother's murderer. the pieces of his body have all been located and rejoined, save for the most important one-- you've been entrusted with the care of your brother's headless body, kept sealed to contain the resentful energy driving it mindlessly toward revenge.
you can understand the feeling. maybe you're a little jealous of how easy it must be to think of nothing else, to not have to balance a game board full of pieces that could tip over at any moment.
they never really expected you to find his head yourself. they're not going to see it coming when you let him loose again to go put an end to his murderer like he deserves to. but first, he has to be repaired, and you're putting every bit of care you have into your work to stitch his head back into place on his body, ignoring the needle when it pricks your thumb, ignoring your eyes when they sting and threaten to spill over. he doesn't look quite like he did when he was alive-- his skin is gray, his dark hair dull. but you still know this face so, so well.
you know he knows it's you too, because even a mindless fierce corpse recognizes their own bloodline. you know he won't understand anything you say, but you can hope that he does-- so you talk to him anyway. you say you know this isn't what he wanted for you. you know this isn't the path he'd have wanted you to take, and it's too underhanded to be one he'd take himself. would you be disappointed, da-ge, that i can't kill him with my own hands?
you remember him asking you a million times-- huaisang, where is your saber? and telling him a million times i don't know, i misplaced it, i left it in my room, i can't practice today! you ask him if he understands why. you ask him if he remembers the last time the two of you fought over it, before he died-- you never got a chance to make up. does he know you're sorry? does he know you realized then that something must be wrong? does he know how long you've spent trying to exact the only form of justice for it that you can?
does he know you would break every fucking thing for his sake, and does he know you don't regret the things you've done?
you aren't sure if you hope the answer is yes or no. you just keep sewing.
soon, it's all going to be over.]
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Uh.
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Ah- you know, I think the tea I was looking for is over there, if you could just pass it over...