► xiao jing
| the time Xiao Jing reached his sixth birthday, he'd start to notice the odd, gathering crowd at the foot of their house. Across several encounters with this sort of setting, his then younger self would see an ensemble of men of all sorts of backgrounds and faces, their fingers clutching at a bouquet of white lilies as they confidently strode over to their door. It wasn't until he'd turn seven that he'd learn of their reasons and their end goal, one that involved his sister and her ever coveted hand in matrimony. Sure enough, true to his juvenile mind, the concept of courting and all its complicated systems escaped him entirely. There hadn't been any room available for those sort of trivial things when his brain was too busy finding ways to make his sister fawn over him, or realize better training schemes for his upcoming lesson with master Zheng. |
It's been twenty years since then - twenty-three, actually, and still counting. Yet even his young adult mind didn't seem to provide any space to understand the matters of the heart up to this point. There was far too much clutter in his head, he thinks, all sorts of grime and murk clouding the curves and crannies - as if one more lump of worldly shit such as love and courtship was going to overstep everything and make all those nasty things inside him flow should it be added to the pile.
'Bitter' was the term for those as stone-hearted as he was. Though it wasn't the most context-perfect term in his case. If at all, he was more likely to call it a feeling of not-giving-a-single-flying-fuck as verbally as he could, just to appease the natural forces that tried to coax him into re-discovering the adventures of falling in love when, really, the only adventure Xiao Jing would want his entire life was a traversal through the cosmos inside a space-faring vehicle that he fashioned himself.
But that was reserved for a time far beyond his control, considering his present was something he'd never find himself doing in this current lifetime unless the fates designed a miracle to befall him at some point - for in his rough, calloused hands was a love letter, steadily handwritten to a fault, stamped and addressed to a particular woman who, by then, was the darling of a currently trending drama that aired predominantly in the afternoon.
TV personalities and their real names hardly mattered to the ginger, but this one stuck insistently,; not because Xiao Jing was hopelessly looking for her information through the newspapers, or that he watched her interviews and anticipated the drama series - ridiculous!
If it weren't for the easy money and the annoying trill of a desperate man in love, begging him for his aid, then he wouldn't have come around to huddle between the tight squeezes of many adoring fans who've come to catch even the slightest glimpse at their idol in person at least once in their insignificant lives.
"To Ms. Liesl Montromorey..." he whispered, eyeing the letters that were earnestly scribbled unto the envelope, the handwriting curled with the elegance of a smitten heart.
Unfortunate as he was to sport a bulky body that wasn't the sort to fit through cramped spaces,
Xiao Jing would still have an upper-hand in this pseudo-competition for dominance as bodies pushed and elbowed each other in an attempt to get their first. Whatever Jing lacked in his lack of the ability to love, he managed to make up for with his creativity and his craftiness.
And his talents were made evident to everyone else there, it seems, his toothy grin becoming a still-image that would implant itself into their minds as soon as a thick cloud of pink smoke ruptured through the venue without so much as a millimeter of care for anyone else's well-being. The haze gave off a strong, feminine perfume, causing several men to gag and a good portion of the women to stop and smell the fragrance in both awe and confusion - and because of the ensuing chaos that the guards would have had to inevitably manage, the sly bastard with the red-hair was somehow able to get a free backstage pass without Miss Montromorey's bouncers costing him one too many bone fractures.
Upon his entrance, Jing would be pleasantly greeted by the the aroma of gardenias and roses, the light of a single vanity mirror casting lazy shadows over the bedazzled gowns that sat on one side of the room. Amongst all that glitter, however, was not a single woman nor was there the evidence of her ever gracing the room with her presence.
Ah. So he arrived far too early for the fun to ensue.
Biting back a grunt, the ginger retrieved the letter from his pocket, shuffling a little awkwardly to the vanity mirror before leaving the item next to a vase of roses, to which he'd pop one of the blossoms from the bundle, settling it atop his client's delivery as briskly as his fingers could make it.
Seeing as how the place began to hum with the noise of guards and their warning sirens, Jing began to see no further need to remain in Miss Liesl's room, lest he wish to spend the night within the confines of silver cuffs and metal bars.
"It's a shame I won't be able to hear what the pretty miss' answer was." he grumbled to himself, twisting the knob of the emergency door with the pretense of escaped lingering through the speed of his actions.
Along the way, however, his brain began to realize that it never truly mattered if he'd see the outcome of all of this, acknowledging the fact that the reward money was what the ginger considered an outcome, anyway.
The key to a good mailman joke
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Lineage : Blessed by the Fourth Wall
Position : None
Posts : 358
Guild : Onyx Moon
Cosmic Coins : 0
Dungeon Tokens : 0
Mentor : Tan Zheng✝; Damaris Hopes
Experience : 650
First Magic: Dì Sì Shùnxù [ 2nd Gen ]
Second Magic: TBA
Third Magic: TBA
- Post n°1