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foxinthestarsAgain, made the daily goal, and took just a little bite out of my shortfall. Sadly that means I didn't make it to 30k on time, but it'll be okay. I think the problem was a crisis of confidence about the plot point I'm doing here (it's lame! it's transparent!), but I think today I finally committed to it and am forging ahead more effectively. Hemming and hawing your way into something like that makes for some flabby prose, but NaNo is not the time to start trimming fat...
I also keep forgetting that Tama exists; when I get to revisions, I'll have to make him more of a consistent presence.
And if I can just digress about FY for a little, one of the (many) places where problems come up if you think about it too hard is that for as huge a deal as this whole Seishi-gathering God-summoning thing seems to be to the people of this world --- I mean it's only the incarnation phase of their religion, and I seem to recall at least in the nonsense OVA some suggestion that it was a cyclical thing (which in the Mirrorverse we took and ran with). But anyway, for something that important, the people of that world seem stunningly ignorant about how the whole thing works. For the Seishi to go around addressing each other by their constellation names should really just be a dead giveaway on the order of flashing neon. IIRC there was something about Tamahome being teased as a child for having the character on his head, which would be a lot less believable without this massive ignorance. You would half expect even the ubiquitous street thugs to realize that if you encounter a young woman in really weird clothes suffering from profound culture shock, there are more advantageous things to do than attempt to violate her (thus opening yourself up to the near certainty of someone with super powers showing up and beating the stuffing out of you). In the Mirrorverse, Konan actually has an excuse because they were conquered and occupied by Kutou for centuries and just regained their independence in the last hundred years (yes, that was the first phase of our/my ongoing quest to make this war about something), so there you could assume that the cultural institutions that would normally transmit the knowledge were disrupted or destroyed. Barring that, though, it just comes across as not thinking through the worldbuilding worth a damn, but if we open that can of worms regarding FY, we might never see the bottom of it...
But anyway!
“What should we get for souvenirs?” Tamahome asked. The shop, located directly on the main thoroughfare, was a promising one for the purpose, a sprawling, thriving collection of carved wood ranging from architectural pillars and statues too big to have been carved from a single tree, all the way down to chopstick rests smaller than a person’s thumb. Souvenir-sized options, however, were almost too numerous. Nuriko was testing the balance of some staves, Hotohori and Chichiri were looking at haircombs and pendants and beads, and Tamahome himself had gravitated toward some wooden spoons with carved handles.
From outside the shop came the sound of a distant bell; the few other patrons and the craftsmen began filing out the door, and a bearded man who had come from the back of the shop motioned to them to do the same. “Come on, come on! You might be visitors, but you should still show respect. Come with us!”
When they stepped outside, they saw people coming out of all the shops and joining those who had been walking out on the street in forming orderly files on their knees at the end of the street where it adjoined the main avenue, despite the wind lashing over them and the snow on the ground biting into their knees. The bearded man led them to take places in the formation, the four of them side-by-side. The people fell silent, and over the howling wind, the striking of a bell rang out every few seconds, now much clearer, punctuating a man’s strong voice calling out: “This way comes the Heavenly Princess!”
Tamahome, looking down the street, just caught a glimpse of the procession; a monk marched ahead ringing the bell and announcing it, the palanquin had thick curtains that looked almost like wool and were secured with ties from top to bottom, and it and its bearers were flanked by columns of black-armored soldiers. It looked like more monks were bringing up the rear, but before he could see clearly, the bell rang out again.
“Let all within sight or sound bow down their heads!”
The crowd as one fell forward onto their hands and dropped their heads to the ground. Tamahome looked over at the bearded man from the shop, who was next to him; despite the cold and the servilility of the gesture, he had closed his eyes and smiled with the satisfaction of patriotic pride. On his other side, however, Hotohori held back a few inches; probably not enough to see at this distance, but he was staring at the ground with wide eyes. Beyond him, Nuriko was looking worried; only Chichiri had her head fully on the ground.
“Hey, are you okay?” Tamahome hissed under his breath, trusting the wind to hide his voice.
Hotohori opened his mouth but didn’t reply.
The bell sounded. “This way comes the Heavenly Princess!”
He was nearly drowned out by a sudden harder blast from the already-blustering wind. In the corners of his eyes, Tamahome could see people’s clothes whipping and hats flying off in the crowd. A loud, hard flapping of cloth was audible from the palanquin.
Hotohori looked up.
The wind died away. Suddenly it was almost still. A moment passed in near silence, enough to hear the cloth falling, now more softly, and footsteps approaching. By the time Tamahome raised his head, the monks had pulled the curtains of the palanquin back into place and were arranging them, and three of the soldiers were charging toward Hotohori. One of them drew a sword. Immediately, a moment before even Nuriko, Tamahome was on his feet in their path, fists ready. Chichiri had also scrambled up and was trying to get hold of the others.
Just as the soldiers were about to set upon them, a lady’s voice issued from the palanquin. “Stop! Do not harm that man!”
A collective sigh of awe rippled through the still-prostrate crowd. “The princess’s voice!” someone exulted softly.
What is with these people? Tamahome wondered.
The soldiers stopped, but still faced the Seishi warily, as the monk with the bell ran around to the side of the palanquin and spoke to the princess through the curtain, now too softly to hear. After several moments, he turned toward them. “Her Majesty wishes the offender taken into custody, but his companions may go free,” he announced.
Tamahome stood his ground. “You think we’re just going to let you take him??”
Hotohori touched his shoulder. “You don’t have to---”
“You are not to speak!” one of the soldiers suddenly roared, pointing at him.
“Wait no da!” Chichiri interjected. “Please tell the princess that he’s our friend and we can’t be separated no da.”
“We can’t all get arrested,” Nuriko objected. “Somebody has to find Yui and the others and tell them.”
“Tamahome-chan, you should go no da,” Chichiri said. Nuriko nodded in agreement.
“Okay.”
The monk was still talking to the princess through the curtain. “It will be as you wish,” he declared at last. “Her Majesty will return to the palace.”
The monk with the bell and those who had been bringing up the rear exchanged places, and the bearers about-faced as the soldiers tied Hotohori, Nuriko, and Chichiri’s hands and led them away at the rear of the procession. Hotohori took it in shamefaced silence, Nuriko secure in the knowledge that she could break the bonds at will, but Chichiri still looked optimistic.
Tamahome watched angrily as they were taken; the last of the soldiers turned back to him. “Is this how you show gratitude for our princess’s mercy?”
He locked eyes with the soldier for a moment, but he was the one left to tell Yui what had happened; he couldn’t do that if he got himself in more trouble, so he took the hint and knelt on the ground and bowed again, although he was grinding his teeth.
*******
Yui had finally lost patience with grabbing hold of her hat to keep it from blowing off whenever they stepped outside, and had led Chiriko and Tasuki into a ladies’ hat shop.
“Can you show me something that will stay on in the wind?” she asked the woman who approached as a bell on the door announced their entrance.
The woman laughed. “It is vicious out there today, isn’t it?” She swept across the shop and gestured to a collection of hats with elaborately shaped flaps that could be tied under the chin. “These are popular locally, but to suit what you’re wearing...” What she now demonstrated was a display of the short, boxy style, but with an attached cloth that dropped down around the sides and formed a scarf.
“Yes, thank you, those are good.” Yui had seen other women out in the market wearing that style and liked it better than the first, and she didn’t want to spend long in the shop. If it was anything like her own world, Tasuki and Chiriko wouldn’t enjoy waiting around while a girl shopped for clothes, but she did want something that matched her coat, and while she held up different hats in front of the mirror, Tasuki happily began chatting up the shop girl and Chiriko investigated various styles to see how they were constructed and decorated, so Yui relaxed her pace a bit.
The bell rang out again as another, somewhat younger woman dashed breathlessly into the shop. “Onee-chan, did you hear what happened?” she asked; it seemed she was there to gossip, not to shop.
“No, what is it?” the woman who had been helping them asked, abandoning Tasuki easily.
“You knew the princess was going to the monastery, right?
“Right...”
“On the street where I was, there was this man --- I think he must have been a foreigner ---”
Yui clutched the hat in her hands nervously; Chiriko came over to her.
“He didn’t bow?” the older sister asked.
“You won’t believe it!” the other woman exclaimed. “The wind blew so hard that the princess’s curtains flew up --- and he looked!”
“Oh, my goodness! Did they really kill him??”
Yui was struck with a dizzy shock.
“No! You won’t believe this either, the princess talked! She told them not to hurt him.”
“Maybe it’s the foreign princess.”
“Him and all but one of his friends were arrested though, and the princess turned around and went back to the palace and took them with her. I don’t know if---”
“Excuse me,” Tasuki broke in. “This guy, what did he look like?”
“How should I know?” the younger sister demanded. “I was on the other side of the street with my face on the ground. The princess just called him ‘that man,’ and I think he must have been a foreigner not to know better. One of his friends had the weirdest dialect, too...”
Yui clumsily put the hat back in its place and grabbed Chiriko and Tasuki’s sleeves as she fled from the shop, flustering the sisters.
“They must be shocked at how barbaric our royals are; it’s the price we pay for having a shop in the capital,” the older sister said as they left.
Outside in the street, Tasuki caught Yui’s shoulder. “Look, nothing’s happened to him. We’d have felt it if---”
“If you feel something, it’ll be too late!” she snapped. “We’re going to the monastery right now! If they’re going to help us, it’s time they helped us!”
With the aid of the map and Yui leading the way at a frantic pace, they followed side streets in a wide circle around to the back of the great monastery where the rendezvous point was marked. It was out of the way of the military sentries, but as Yui came up to it, it was just an empty street with a high wall and nothing to see except piles of firewood, straw, and spare stone.
Chiriko, however, ran straight to the wood pile. Tama jumped from his shoulders onto the stacked wood and meowed encouragingly as he put his hands in it and pulled experimentally at a few logs, before feeling them over in a certain area and finally lifting up on one with a clunk. He pulled it to the side, and a whole section of the lower part of the pile slid sideways in a track, revealing a stairway leading downward under the wall.
“How did you do that?” Tasuki asked him.
“The wood there was weathered differently,” he said, as if it were utterly simple.
“You know, if you happen to fail your next round of examinations...”
“Won’t happen,” Chiriko said.
“Well, if they don’t pay you as much as you want...”
Yui didn’t take the time to talk; she plucked Tama off the pile and tucked him under her arm, then hurried down the stairs. Chiriko followed, with Tasuki bringing up the rear and pulling the entrance shut again behind them. It left them in a tight, totally dark corridor. As Yui felt her way along it, Tama jumped down and ran ahead; she could hear the skittering sound of his claws on the stone floor leading her along, and finally heard him scratching and meowing.
At the end of the corner, a rim of light described a door that opened, and Yui hurried forward into what appeared to be the monastery’s laundry. Monks and nuns abandoned tubs of soaking black cloth in surprise and approached them curiously.
“I need to see Master Tan,” Yui told them. “He was expecting me this evening, but it’s important I see him now.”
One of the nuns touched her shoulder and motioned that she would lead the way, still saying nothing --- it seemed some of Genbu’s religious order took vows of silence --- and Yui followed her, with Chiriko scooping Tama up again and Tasuki bringing up the rear.
The nun led them to a wide but spare meditation room and motioned them to sit, then hurried away. As she waited, Yui’s impatience bubbled up, and she rocked back and forth and worried at her hair.
Tasuki grasped her shoulder to steady her. “Look, it’s gonna be okay,” he said.
“If anything happened to him... and...” Her throat tightened. “I lost Mitsukake; I don’t want to lose anyone else!” Giving voice to the thought choked her with tears, and she fell to sobbing into her hands.
Tasuki held her with uncharacteristic gentleness, and Chiriko clasped her hand.
“It’ll be all right,” Chiriko tried to assure her. “They’ll help us...”
*******
I also keep forgetting that Tama exists; when I get to revisions, I'll have to make him more of a consistent presence.
And if I can just digress about FY for a little, one of the (many) places where problems come up if you think about it too hard is that for as huge a deal as this whole Seishi-gathering God-summoning thing seems to be to the people of this world --- I mean it's only the incarnation phase of their religion, and I seem to recall at least in the nonsense OVA some suggestion that it was a cyclical thing (which in the Mirrorverse we took and ran with). But anyway, for something that important, the people of that world seem stunningly ignorant about how the whole thing works. For the Seishi to go around addressing each other by their constellation names should really just be a dead giveaway on the order of flashing neon. IIRC there was something about Tamahome being teased as a child for having the character on his head, which would be a lot less believable without this massive ignorance. You would half expect even the ubiquitous street thugs to realize that if you encounter a young woman in really weird clothes suffering from profound culture shock, there are more advantageous things to do than attempt to violate her (thus opening yourself up to the near certainty of someone with super powers showing up and beating the stuffing out of you). In the Mirrorverse, Konan actually has an excuse because they were conquered and occupied by Kutou for centuries and just regained their independence in the last hundred years (yes, that was the first phase of our/my ongoing quest to make this war about something), so there you could assume that the cultural institutions that would normally transmit the knowledge were disrupted or destroyed. Barring that, though, it just comes across as not thinking through the worldbuilding worth a damn, but if we open that can of worms regarding FY, we might never see the bottom of it...
But anyway!
29124 ★ 50000 (58.25%)
“What should we get for souvenirs?” Tamahome asked. The shop, located directly on the main thoroughfare, was a promising one for the purpose, a sprawling, thriving collection of carved wood ranging from architectural pillars and statues too big to have been carved from a single tree, all the way down to chopstick rests smaller than a person’s thumb. Souvenir-sized options, however, were almost too numerous. Nuriko was testing the balance of some staves, Hotohori and Chichiri were looking at haircombs and pendants and beads, and Tamahome himself had gravitated toward some wooden spoons with carved handles.
From outside the shop came the sound of a distant bell; the few other patrons and the craftsmen began filing out the door, and a bearded man who had come from the back of the shop motioned to them to do the same. “Come on, come on! You might be visitors, but you should still show respect. Come with us!”
When they stepped outside, they saw people coming out of all the shops and joining those who had been walking out on the street in forming orderly files on their knees at the end of the street where it adjoined the main avenue, despite the wind lashing over them and the snow on the ground biting into their knees. The bearded man led them to take places in the formation, the four of them side-by-side. The people fell silent, and over the howling wind, the striking of a bell rang out every few seconds, now much clearer, punctuating a man’s strong voice calling out: “This way comes the Heavenly Princess!”
Tamahome, looking down the street, just caught a glimpse of the procession; a monk marched ahead ringing the bell and announcing it, the palanquin had thick curtains that looked almost like wool and were secured with ties from top to bottom, and it and its bearers were flanked by columns of black-armored soldiers. It looked like more monks were bringing up the rear, but before he could see clearly, the bell rang out again.
“Let all within sight or sound bow down their heads!”
The crowd as one fell forward onto their hands and dropped their heads to the ground. Tamahome looked over at the bearded man from the shop, who was next to him; despite the cold and the servilility of the gesture, he had closed his eyes and smiled with the satisfaction of patriotic pride. On his other side, however, Hotohori held back a few inches; probably not enough to see at this distance, but he was staring at the ground with wide eyes. Beyond him, Nuriko was looking worried; only Chichiri had her head fully on the ground.
“Hey, are you okay?” Tamahome hissed under his breath, trusting the wind to hide his voice.
Hotohori opened his mouth but didn’t reply.
The bell sounded. “This way comes the Heavenly Princess!”
He was nearly drowned out by a sudden harder blast from the already-blustering wind. In the corners of his eyes, Tamahome could see people’s clothes whipping and hats flying off in the crowd. A loud, hard flapping of cloth was audible from the palanquin.
Hotohori looked up.
The wind died away. Suddenly it was almost still. A moment passed in near silence, enough to hear the cloth falling, now more softly, and footsteps approaching. By the time Tamahome raised his head, the monks had pulled the curtains of the palanquin back into place and were arranging them, and three of the soldiers were charging toward Hotohori. One of them drew a sword. Immediately, a moment before even Nuriko, Tamahome was on his feet in their path, fists ready. Chichiri had also scrambled up and was trying to get hold of the others.
Just as the soldiers were about to set upon them, a lady’s voice issued from the palanquin. “Stop! Do not harm that man!”
A collective sigh of awe rippled through the still-prostrate crowd. “The princess’s voice!” someone exulted softly.
What is with these people? Tamahome wondered.
The soldiers stopped, but still faced the Seishi warily, as the monk with the bell ran around to the side of the palanquin and spoke to the princess through the curtain, now too softly to hear. After several moments, he turned toward them. “Her Majesty wishes the offender taken into custody, but his companions may go free,” he announced.
Tamahome stood his ground. “You think we’re just going to let you take him??”
Hotohori touched his shoulder. “You don’t have to---”
“You are not to speak!” one of the soldiers suddenly roared, pointing at him.
“Wait no da!” Chichiri interjected. “Please tell the princess that he’s our friend and we can’t be separated no da.”
“We can’t all get arrested,” Nuriko objected. “Somebody has to find Yui and the others and tell them.”
“Tamahome-chan, you should go no da,” Chichiri said. Nuriko nodded in agreement.
“Okay.”
The monk was still talking to the princess through the curtain. “It will be as you wish,” he declared at last. “Her Majesty will return to the palace.”
The monk with the bell and those who had been bringing up the rear exchanged places, and the bearers about-faced as the soldiers tied Hotohori, Nuriko, and Chichiri’s hands and led them away at the rear of the procession. Hotohori took it in shamefaced silence, Nuriko secure in the knowledge that she could break the bonds at will, but Chichiri still looked optimistic.
Tamahome watched angrily as they were taken; the last of the soldiers turned back to him. “Is this how you show gratitude for our princess’s mercy?”
He locked eyes with the soldier for a moment, but he was the one left to tell Yui what had happened; he couldn’t do that if he got himself in more trouble, so he took the hint and knelt on the ground and bowed again, although he was grinding his teeth.
*******
Yui had finally lost patience with grabbing hold of her hat to keep it from blowing off whenever they stepped outside, and had led Chiriko and Tasuki into a ladies’ hat shop.
“Can you show me something that will stay on in the wind?” she asked the woman who approached as a bell on the door announced their entrance.
The woman laughed. “It is vicious out there today, isn’t it?” She swept across the shop and gestured to a collection of hats with elaborately shaped flaps that could be tied under the chin. “These are popular locally, but to suit what you’re wearing...” What she now demonstrated was a display of the short, boxy style, but with an attached cloth that dropped down around the sides and formed a scarf.
“Yes, thank you, those are good.” Yui had seen other women out in the market wearing that style and liked it better than the first, and she didn’t want to spend long in the shop. If it was anything like her own world, Tasuki and Chiriko wouldn’t enjoy waiting around while a girl shopped for clothes, but she did want something that matched her coat, and while she held up different hats in front of the mirror, Tasuki happily began chatting up the shop girl and Chiriko investigated various styles to see how they were constructed and decorated, so Yui relaxed her pace a bit.
The bell rang out again as another, somewhat younger woman dashed breathlessly into the shop. “Onee-chan, did you hear what happened?” she asked; it seemed she was there to gossip, not to shop.
“No, what is it?” the woman who had been helping them asked, abandoning Tasuki easily.
“You knew the princess was going to the monastery, right?
“Right...”
“On the street where I was, there was this man --- I think he must have been a foreigner ---”
Yui clutched the hat in her hands nervously; Chiriko came over to her.
“He didn’t bow?” the older sister asked.
“You won’t believe it!” the other woman exclaimed. “The wind blew so hard that the princess’s curtains flew up --- and he looked!”
“Oh, my goodness! Did they really kill him??”
Yui was struck with a dizzy shock.
“No! You won’t believe this either, the princess talked! She told them not to hurt him.”
“Maybe it’s the foreign princess.”
“Him and all but one of his friends were arrested though, and the princess turned around and went back to the palace and took them with her. I don’t know if---”
“Excuse me,” Tasuki broke in. “This guy, what did he look like?”
“How should I know?” the younger sister demanded. “I was on the other side of the street with my face on the ground. The princess just called him ‘that man,’ and I think he must have been a foreigner not to know better. One of his friends had the weirdest dialect, too...”
Yui clumsily put the hat back in its place and grabbed Chiriko and Tasuki’s sleeves as she fled from the shop, flustering the sisters.
“They must be shocked at how barbaric our royals are; it’s the price we pay for having a shop in the capital,” the older sister said as they left.
Outside in the street, Tasuki caught Yui’s shoulder. “Look, nothing’s happened to him. We’d have felt it if---”
“If you feel something, it’ll be too late!” she snapped. “We’re going to the monastery right now! If they’re going to help us, it’s time they helped us!”
With the aid of the map and Yui leading the way at a frantic pace, they followed side streets in a wide circle around to the back of the great monastery where the rendezvous point was marked. It was out of the way of the military sentries, but as Yui came up to it, it was just an empty street with a high wall and nothing to see except piles of firewood, straw, and spare stone.
Chiriko, however, ran straight to the wood pile. Tama jumped from his shoulders onto the stacked wood and meowed encouragingly as he put his hands in it and pulled experimentally at a few logs, before feeling them over in a certain area and finally lifting up on one with a clunk. He pulled it to the side, and a whole section of the lower part of the pile slid sideways in a track, revealing a stairway leading downward under the wall.
“How did you do that?” Tasuki asked him.
“The wood there was weathered differently,” he said, as if it were utterly simple.
“You know, if you happen to fail your next round of examinations...”
“Won’t happen,” Chiriko said.
“Well, if they don’t pay you as much as you want...”
Yui didn’t take the time to talk; she plucked Tama off the pile and tucked him under her arm, then hurried down the stairs. Chiriko followed, with Tasuki bringing up the rear and pulling the entrance shut again behind them. It left them in a tight, totally dark corridor. As Yui felt her way along it, Tama jumped down and ran ahead; she could hear the skittering sound of his claws on the stone floor leading her along, and finally heard him scratching and meowing.
At the end of the corner, a rim of light described a door that opened, and Yui hurried forward into what appeared to be the monastery’s laundry. Monks and nuns abandoned tubs of soaking black cloth in surprise and approached them curiously.
“I need to see Master Tan,” Yui told them. “He was expecting me this evening, but it’s important I see him now.”
One of the nuns touched her shoulder and motioned that she would lead the way, still saying nothing --- it seemed some of Genbu’s religious order took vows of silence --- and Yui followed her, with Chiriko scooping Tama up again and Tasuki bringing up the rear.
The nun led them to a wide but spare meditation room and motioned them to sit, then hurried away. As she waited, Yui’s impatience bubbled up, and she rocked back and forth and worried at her hair.
Tasuki grasped her shoulder to steady her. “Look, it’s gonna be okay,” he said.
“If anything happened to him... and...” Her throat tightened. “I lost Mitsukake; I don’t want to lose anyone else!” Giving voice to the thought choked her with tears, and she fell to sobbing into her hands.
Tasuki held her with uncharacteristic gentleness, and Chiriko clasped her hand.
“It’ll be all right,” Chiriko tried to assure her. “They’ll help us...”
*******
