[that's exactly why i made sure to show you venat, britt.]
So it was. Elpis, to be precise: the testing ground at the edge of creation. Once concepts are approved, they are examined there in suitable habitats, to ensure they will fit into their intended environment in the world.
Precisely so. Weaving reality itself to create is an innate talent of my kind; 'tis unthinkable, to consider beings which call themselves gods and take so little responsibility. If one possesses such ability, they have a responsibility to their world.
[her hand brushes against the shell of the bubble, and out of habit, she infuses it with color.
an then -
there's a crash, as her mother in law yells at her, and as a woman she calls mother comforts her. her husband, his arm around his new concubine. a child, begging to be held - waner's child, not her own. an accusation, a plea, and then - waner doubles down, and jiuqing laments that she won't be believed.
...but even back then, when she was so easily framed - jiuqing is still determined. she makes an attempt to reach out, to explain what happened.
but it's not her husband who appears. it's waner, who throws her letter down, who mocks her and admits that the shove into the pond was her scheme all along.
it's waner who admits that they're sisters, not cousins.
jiuqing's life flashes before her eyes, memory upon memory, but when she chokes out her last breaths, it's not her regrets that are on her mind. not entirely.
she swears revenge, instead. her eyes close, for what she thinks will be forever.
and then they open again, as she wakes from what she thinks at first was simply some terrible dream.
when they come out of the memory, jiuqing is frozen, one hand at her throat as if to rip away a strip of fabric that's no longer there.]
he's learned, in his time here, that people are generally not what he is used to. they are flawed; they are mortal, and their lives last only so long. they are capable of violence against each other that he would not have conceived of, and this is simply-- it is how things are. there is a normalcy to it that he still sometimes struggles with, that makes him see many of them so differently.
flaws such as theirs would not have been tolerated in creations of his world. 'humans' would not have persisted, for their tendencies to unduly harm each other. they would have been unmade.
and knowing death has happened here, that violence has, is no substitute for seeing these things visited upon someone. for seeing their capacity to work against each other in less direct ways, to harm others for their own personal gain.
a hand is pressed to his temple, in the aftermath of this, and he shakes his head as he slowly exhales.]
slowly, she lowers her hand from her throat. there's nothing there. it's safe. she can breathe. this isn't the peng manor in the capital; for better or for worse, it's the library in a world she still doesn't know how they got to. waner isn't across from her, and neither are her maids; it's emet-selch.]
...it was how my first life ended, and how my second... began.
...many of the beginnings remained the same, but - I was able to use what I knew to change the outcomes, in some cases.
[...]
I wasn't able to prevent them from coming to our house. But I was able to protect my mother. I learned medicine in time to be able to identify the poison they were trying to kill her with and prevent it.
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So it was. Elpis, to be precise: the testing ground at the edge of creation. Once concepts are approved, they are examined there in suitable habitats, to ensure they will fit into their intended environment in the world.
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[...]
So that's why you didn't think much of the gods people talk about in my world. You really do take it all very seriously.
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cw: strangulation
[her hand brushes against the shell of the bubble, and out of habit, she infuses it with color.
an then -
there's a crash, as her mother in law yells at her, and as a woman she calls mother comforts her. her husband, his arm around his new concubine. a child, begging to be held - waner's child, not her own. an accusation, a plea, and then - waner doubles down, and jiuqing laments that she won't be believed.
...but even back then, when she was so easily framed - jiuqing is still determined. she makes an attempt to reach out, to explain what happened.
but it's not her husband who appears. it's waner, who throws her letter down, who mocks her and admits that the shove into the pond was her scheme all along.
it's waner who admits that they're sisters, not cousins.
it's waner who admits why jiuqing's real mother died, and why her marriage had been childless for so many years.
and it's waner who gives the order to have her killed.
jiuqing's life flashes before her eyes, memory upon memory, but when she chokes out her last breaths, it's not her regrets that are on her mind. not entirely.
she swears revenge, instead. her eyes close, for what she thinks will be forever.
and then they open again, as she wakes from what she thinks at first was simply some terrible dream.
when they come out of the memory, jiuqing is frozen, one hand at her throat as if to rip away a strip of fabric that's no longer there.]
no subject
he's learned, in his time here, that people are generally not what he is used to. they are flawed; they are mortal, and their lives last only so long. they are capable of violence against each other that he would not have conceived of, and this is simply-- it is how things are. there is a normalcy to it that he still sometimes struggles with, that makes him see many of them so differently.
flaws such as theirs would not have been tolerated in creations of his world. 'humans' would not have persisted, for their tendencies to unduly harm each other. they would have been unmade.
and knowing death has happened here, that violence has, is no substitute for seeing these things visited upon someone. for seeing their capacity to work against each other in less direct ways, to harm others for their own personal gain.
a hand is pressed to his temple, in the aftermath of this, and he shakes his head as he slowly exhales.]
...Su Jiuqing. Was this-?
[was that some sort of dream?]
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[she wishes it was a dream.
slowly, she lowers her hand from her throat. there's nothing there. it's safe. she can breathe. this isn't the peng manor in the capital; for better or for worse, it's the library in a world she still doesn't know how they got to. waner isn't across from her, and neither are her maids; it's emet-selch.]
...it was how my first life ended, and how my second... began.
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[that her soul failed to pass on, in some way? or is this how the afterlife works in her world?]
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I remembered everything that had happened to me. And... things started to happen the same way I remembered them happening.
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[he's contemplating this, with a frown.]
Did they always happen the same way?
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[...]
I wasn't able to prevent them from coming to our house. But I was able to protect my mother. I learned medicine in time to be able to identify the poison they were trying to kill her with and prevent it.