[providing relaxation that takes away one's worries, comfort that soothes someone's uneasiness, and leaving them feeling nothing but happiness are all reasons why he plays, and they're why he pours his entire heart into the motions. unsurprisingly, he's spurred on by the man's smile, delighted with knowing that his playing has created joy for someone else; this fellow doesn't move at all, either, effectively captivated by the tranquil music.
if he's also using just the slightest amount of qi to ease any discomfort, well... they don't have to mention that now, do they?
again, after sizhui's finished, his hands spread along the instrument like he's caressing the strings rather than simply pressing down on them, and his head finally lifts entirely so the veil parts to reveal his face, the small smile quirking his lips.
the first two languages are completely incomprehensible to him, unfortunately, though the english and the awkward (yet still rather cute) mandarin that follows has his expression brightening significantly.] I know a little English. [which doesn't sound much better than lestat's mandarin, let's be real, but he follows it up as plainly as possible in his native tongue.]You're quite welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
[ Lestat makes it a note to learn the language quicker, now that he has more of a reason to: he usually sticks with the other foreigners, often choosing them and undesirables to to feed on to avoid risk of standing out. People don't much blink when it happens.
But now he has a reason to branch out: he is captivated, wholly, utterly by the guqin player, and that round face and deer like eyes peak out from behind that fluttering white veil like a morsel to be supped on. He looks ethereal, like an angel--a cherubim from a chapel, playing his zither like a harp for God's ears.
And he knows English.
Lestat's smile only seems to widen. He clasps his hands together instead of clapping again, seems to remember his manners, and bows like he knows is tradition here. The moment he straightens, he's speaking in English, as it's what seems to be the most common ground between them. ]
It is customary where I'm from to reward great talent and musicianship. Please, allow me to do so: there is a marvelous tea shoppe, they serve the most delicious rice wine--your words are clumsy with these damned foreign lips, forgive me--baiju?
[said guqin player is beaming outright by the time lestat remembers his manners and bows, which deserves a proper greeting in return. sizhui shifts, raises his left arm and sweeps a long sleeve across the instrument, causing it to disappear in a small flurry of bright blue magic. he moves upright afterward, all grace and flowing veil and robes, his right hand reaching to tip his hat back somewhat first, then he circles both arms around, cinches his hands together and bows in kind.
honestly, this handsome stranger flatters him, but it's those honey-tongued words that have him even considering going somewhere with an individual he's only just met. any other day, he might've been more heedful, would have taken into account what he was supposed to be doing and the sudden appearance of someone he's never seen before rather than toss caution to the wind by immediately accepting the man's offer.]
Bye-j'yo, [he pronounces, slow and steady, still smiling the whole time through his suggestion.] You needn't apologize, you're doing wonderfully with what you know. If you prefer, it is also called ‘shaojiu’, literally meaning ‘white liquor’.
[against his (usually) better judgment, he slinks forward, leaving a respectable amount of distance between them, but only just, his expression faintly softened, though no less friendly.] I would be absolutely delighted to share a drink with you. [because, of course, he's fully expecting his new acquaintance to join him, even if it means using some of what he's earned to buy him a drink too.] Lead the way, kind sir.
[here's hoping lestat isn't surprised by how mannerly sizhui's returned flattery is.]
Lestat's smile remains unchanging on his statuesque face, though there's a glint in his eye as the other uses strange blue light to spirit away that divine musical instrument. It's something he doesn't recognize, something he's delighted by: there are forces here, ones he does not yet comprehend or understand.
It both annoys and dizzies him. Almost as much as his first glimpse of the smaller man, bowing properly, the hat now no longer obscuring his face. Had Lestat been a creature capable of breathing, he's certain his breath would have hitched immediately upon seeing him. Instead his smile widens, and he clasps his hands lightly together, white, pointed nails pale, flashing in the moonlight. ]
Bien. Walk with me, and you can give a poor soul such as myself your name.
[this is only a small taste of what he can do, too.
however, until he fully knows the man's intentions, it's a little parlor trick that's safe enough to show off without garnering too many questions. for the most part, his newly acquired company seems unfazed at the moment, but sizhui's expression doesn't waver, nor does he let it embolden him any further. (yet, that is.)
those dark eyes follow each and every flourish, right down to where he clasps his hands together, a motion that makes sizhui ever-so-slightly smile wider in kind; it's interesting, he thinks, meeting someone else who has such energy while somehow coming off so effortlessly smooth, and he's instantly intrigued by what the night holds for them. toward the remark, he huffs a soft, airy laugh, shakes his head then playfully answers,] A ‘poor soul’, hm? Surely that's an embellishment.
[and still, he straightens his posture, tucks both arms behind his back then:] My name is Sizhui. [short, simple, and straight to the point, even if it'll be followed with his own kittenish inquiry.] Will you give me yours in return, young master?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
deferences) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
houseofsushi2020-05-22 10:34 pm
no subject
if he's also using just the slightest amount of qi to ease any discomfort, well... they don't have to mention that now, do they?
again, after sizhui's finished, his hands spread along the instrument like he's caressing the strings rather than simply pressing down on them, and his head finally lifts entirely so the veil parts to reveal his face, the small smile quirking his lips.
the first two languages are completely incomprehensible to him, unfortunately, though the english and the awkward (yet still rather cute) mandarin that follows has his expression brightening significantly.] I know a little English. [which doesn't sound much better than lestat's mandarin, let's be real, but he follows it up as plainly as possible in his native tongue.] You're quite welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it.
no subject
But now he has a reason to branch out: he is captivated, wholly, utterly by the guqin player, and that round face and deer like eyes peak out from behind that fluttering white veil like a morsel to be supped on. He looks ethereal, like an angel--a cherubim from a chapel, playing his zither like a harp for God's ears.
And he knows English.
Lestat's smile only seems to widen. He clasps his hands together instead of clapping again, seems to remember his manners, and bows like he knows is tradition here. The moment he straightens, he's speaking in English, as it's what seems to be the most common ground between them. ]
It is customary where I'm from to reward great talent and musicianship. Please, allow me to do so: there is a marvelous tea shoppe, they serve the most delicious rice wine--your words are clumsy with these damned foreign lips, forgive me--baiju?
no subject
honestly, this handsome stranger flatters him, but it's those honey-tongued words that have him even considering going somewhere with an individual he's only just met. any other day, he might've been more heedful, would have taken into account what he was supposed to be doing and the sudden appearance of someone he's never seen before rather than toss caution to the wind by immediately accepting the man's offer.]
Bye-j'yo, [he pronounces, slow and steady, still smiling the whole time through his suggestion.] You needn't apologize, you're doing wonderfully with what you know. If you prefer, it is also called ‘shaojiu’, literally meaning ‘white liquor’.
[against his (usually) better judgment, he slinks forward, leaving a respectable amount of distance between them, but only just, his expression faintly softened, though no less friendly.] I would be absolutely delighted to share a drink with you. [because, of course, he's fully expecting his new acquaintance to join him, even if it means using some of what he's earned to buy him a drink too.] Lead the way, kind sir.
[here's hoping lestat isn't surprised by how mannerly sizhui's returned flattery is.]
no subject
Lestat's smile remains unchanging on his statuesque face, though there's a glint in his eye as the other uses strange blue light to spirit away that divine musical instrument. It's something he doesn't recognize, something he's delighted by: there are forces here, ones he does not yet comprehend or understand.
It both annoys and dizzies him. Almost as much as his first glimpse of the smaller man, bowing properly, the hat now no longer obscuring his face. Had Lestat been a creature capable of breathing, he's certain his breath would have hitched immediately upon seeing him. Instead his smile widens, and he clasps his hands lightly together, white, pointed nails pale, flashing in the moonlight. ]
Bien. Walk with me, and you can give a poor soul such as myself your name.
no subject
however, until he fully knows the man's intentions, it's a little parlor trick that's safe enough to show off without garnering too many questions. for the most part, his newly acquired company seems unfazed at the moment, but sizhui's expression doesn't waver, nor does he let it embolden him any further. (yet, that is.)
those dark eyes follow each and every flourish, right down to where he clasps his hands together, a motion that makes sizhui ever-so-slightly smile wider in kind; it's interesting, he thinks, meeting someone else who has such energy while somehow coming off so effortlessly smooth, and he's instantly intrigued by what the night holds for them. toward the remark, he huffs a soft, airy laugh, shakes his head then playfully answers,] A ‘poor soul’, hm? Surely that's an embellishment.
[and still, he straightens his posture, tucks both arms behind his back then:] My name is Sizhui. [short, simple, and straight to the point, even if it'll be followed with his own kittenish inquiry.] Will you give me yours in return, young master?
no subject