The man who wrote the opera had never met me. He'd only heard local folktales. And yet... I still enjoyed it, when the Traveler and I attended the showing after we defeated Beisht. Even if it wasn't the whole truth.
[she hands matsui the book. here - he can read the whole thing if he wants, it's just a transcription of the opera with some pictures and things. it probably shouldn't be a whole book but whatever throws hands in the air genshin.]
[HELP. He'll take the book, though, and give it a cursory flip-through without any intent to read through the whole thing.]
If you enjoyed it, then that is a good thing. [It's kind of funny to think of the audience sitting around Shenhe and enjoying the opera, not realizing it was a dramatized retelling of her life.]
Humans enjoy that... Taking tales that they've heard, expanding on them in various ways. New, different legends and stories end up emerging from it, and like this, they create the fabric of their world.
--There is the story of the crane wife? [The funny thing is he doesn't even know cranes were involved in his cyoa because he was BLIND BY THE TIME THEY WERE RESCUED.]
The variation of the story which I found most interesting goes like this... One day, a crane that had been shot down by hunters landed in a poor man's garden. He had been outside at the time and saw it fall, so he bundled it away into his house and kept it safe as they searched for it. The crane, moved by his actions, decided to take on the form of a woman so that she could become his wife, and the two fell in love quickly.
However, the man was not only poor, but was also sickly... He had no money to spend on medicine, and was too ill to continue farming and selling his wares, so he couldn't make any even if he wished to. The crane decided to lock herself away in a room in secret every night, plucking out her own feathers and weaving them into a fine silk brocade that she could sell during the day at the market.
But doing so took a great toll on her. As the days went on, she began to grow sick, as well. As she toiled, she became frailer and weaker, until she could hardly manage to hold her feathers and her fingers bled with every spool of silk she spun. Her husband wasn't doing well, either, as even though they had the money to buy medicine, the disease he had was already too far developed.
One night, hearing the sound of his wife crying behind a closed door, he crawled from his futon to have a look. He was devastated to learn of the source of her illness, and demanded that she stop plucking her feathers, even when she told him that she had been doing it for love. He said that love exists without sacrifice, but she told him that it is beautiful and heavy, and that sacrifice is part of what makes it love. On the floor of that room, surrounded by silk and feathers and moonlight, they were able to pass on together, hand in hand.
[Is. IS THIS A HAPPY ENDING... In some ways, probably...]
[the way i read this tag and then deleted the notif ig my brain was like fuck the crane wife
shenhe listens easily enough, and like... frowns... during it, but. she can kind of see how this would be a happy ending. sacrifice is part of what makes it love. that resonates enough with her, her heart feeling just a bit heavy with it.]
... At least they were together in the end. [little distant flickers of something sad and twisty.]
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I heard it, at least... After we had slain Beisht. We were falling... I don't recall much, then, but I do remember hearing this song.
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[she watches him for a moment.]
The man who wrote the opera had never met me. He'd only heard local folktales. And yet... I still enjoyed it, when the Traveler and I attended the showing after we defeated Beisht. Even if it wasn't the whole truth.
[she hands matsui the book. here - he can read the whole thing if he wants, it's just a transcription of the opera with some pictures and things. it probably shouldn't be a whole book but whatever throws hands in the air genshin.]
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If you enjoyed it, then that is a good thing. [It's kind of funny to think of the audience sitting around Shenhe and enjoying the opera, not realizing it was a dramatized retelling of her life.]
Humans enjoy that... Taking tales that they've heard, expanding on them in various ways. New, different legends and stories end up emerging from it, and like this, they create the fabric of their world.
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Sometimes I wish I had that sort of creativity. [she says, easing down.] ... There must be many stories you've heard.
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Storytelling and making is a craft that can be honed. [He believes in Shenhe... But he nods at the statement.]
I have, yes. Hundreds of years of stories.
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Do you have a favorite?
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He looks like he's considering this question, and his mood is faintly nostalgic as he mentally cards through a handful of his old favorites.]
I have a few... Would you like to hear one?
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I would, yes.
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Something with a happy ending?
[He's assuming so because of The Everything that's happening around them, but also, he'll have to exercise his brain much more for this.]
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[she doesn't seem to mind either way. she just likes stories.]
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[He DIGS INTO THE RECESSES OF HIS MEMORY CAVE--]
--There is the story of the crane wife? [The funny thing is he doesn't even know cranes were involved in his cyoa because he was BLIND BY THE TIME THEY WERE RESCUED.]
The variation of the story which I found most interesting goes like this... One day, a crane that had been shot down by hunters landed in a poor man's garden. He had been outside at the time and saw it fall, so he bundled it away into his house and kept it safe as they searched for it. The crane, moved by his actions, decided to take on the form of a woman so that she could become his wife, and the two fell in love quickly.
However, the man was not only poor, but was also sickly... He had no money to spend on medicine, and was too ill to continue farming and selling his wares, so he couldn't make any even if he wished to. The crane decided to lock herself away in a room in secret every night, plucking out her own feathers and weaving them into a fine silk brocade that she could sell during the day at the market.
But doing so took a great toll on her. As the days went on, she began to grow sick, as well. As she toiled, she became frailer and weaker, until she could hardly manage to hold her feathers and her fingers bled with every spool of silk she spun. Her husband wasn't doing well, either, as even though they had the money to buy medicine, the disease he had was already too far developed.
One night, hearing the sound of his wife crying behind a closed door, he crawled from his futon to have a look. He was devastated to learn of the source of her illness, and demanded that she stop plucking her feathers, even when she told him that she had been doing it for love. He said that love exists without sacrifice, but she told him that it is beautiful and heavy, and that sacrifice is part of what makes it love. On the floor of that room, surrounded by silk and feathers and moonlight, they were able to pass on together, hand in hand.
[Is. IS THIS A HAPPY ENDING... In some ways, probably...]
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shenhe listens easily enough, and like... frowns... during it, but. she can kind of see how this would be a happy ending. sacrifice is part of what makes it love. that resonates enough with her, her heart feeling just a bit heavy with it.]
... At least they were together in the end. [little distant flickers of something sad and twisty.]
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Matsui just smiles, though it's faint and brief as his smiles often are. The feeling behind it is a little wistful.]
Yes. They are together, and no longer suffering through the burdens of life.
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I can see how it'd be a happy ending. [but also:] It would be better if they'd been able to enjoy life together.
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His mood sinks a little just because he's thinking about the perpetual burdens of life, but there's also a little flicker of something understanding.]
Mm. For those who have yet to experience much of life's potential joys, it's best for them to be able to move forward.