❰ this is certainly a state jiang yanli never imagined herself to be in.
it's hard to describe exactly how her body — well, that's an incorrect title, but it's complicated to describe otherwise — feels in this moment, and how her senses are actually working despite her physical form devolving into a faintly lilac pile of ooze. she has some sense of vision: she can look upwards and see the moving image of wei wuxian, visible from an upward angle as she bumps along with the rhythm of the motions of his chest. she can hear, despite having no physical ears, and speak in a very disconnected way. there's no mouth for her to feel words coming from. instead, whatever she thinks to say is just echoed into the air at a warbling frequency. if one didn't know she was jiggling in a cauldron, they may hear her voice and assume she's at a distance — maybe trapped in a shallow hole in the ground, or a nearby cave by how it resounds.
the first half hour in this state had been very nerve-wracking — and it's a tribute to her resilience in that she isn't actually that discontent about this situation, even now. but logically other people are going through similar things — and jiang yanli is aware enough to know the pattern of things like this. you go through some harrowing ordeal, and then it rights itself eventually. a day, a week, et cetera. for now, it's mostly inconvenient.
not totally able to see what her options are, and having a vague sense of how to use her sight (even with the absence of actual eyes), she forces herself upward and allows a little of herself to seep onto the lip of the cauldron and over the edge just slightly. everything about her existence is very instinctual: somehow she can think she wants to go up, and so she does, even as a slime with no muscles, tendons, bones. ❱
I don't think I'd be up to trying any food...it's hard to say if I could eat, but I'm sure if I could— I don't think it would be so pleasant. ❰ being tinted, made of some kind of mass that's able to be seen through, she can imagine a vegetable or piece of fish to just sit inside of her, traveling with her as she moved. or, perhaps, her form would find some way to perform digestion, and even being family...her brother doesn't need to see whatever that may look like. ❱ Pumpkins, though...that could be fun! I wonder if they're just for flinging, or if they may leave some left over.
❰ satisfied with observing the various turned people milling about, and knowing the direction they're heading, jiang yanli slides back into the cauldron, form tightened back together and vibrating like a flat of firm pudding as they continue to step along. ❱ Not that I could do much with them in this state...but for later, perhaps.
( ah - yes, that's about what wei ying had worried, as far as food's concerned. if she couldn't, what would it do? just sit there, visible, hovering amidst the ooze? would he have to... fish it out, somehow? he honestly wouldn't be all that troubled with the concept, were it anyone else he was carrying about, but the thought of fishing food bits out of his shijie seems awfully invasive.
oh, but she's peering up over the ledge now, and it's so much cuter than one might expect from a puddle of slime. he can't explain it, it just is, and wei ying has to remind himself to watch where he's going instead of just watching darling slimejie in her (successful! one couldn't find a more talented slime) attempt to see the sights a bit. she settles on pumpkins, whatever it is that they might do with them, and 'that could be fun' earns another bright grin before he lifts a searching gaze to identify which route seems best to pick their way through the festivities. ) Would you like to carve one? That's the custom, if I recall - we cut spooky little faces in them, then fill them with candles.
❰ if push comes to shove and she somehow feels hunger, then...well, she'd still like to push that to a far out limit before having to put anyone through having to feed her, and/or watch her feed. and if it came to having to fish anything out, jiang yanli will be more likely to slide off as fast as possible. whether she'd rather have a wild animal mistake her for a dish holding a snack than have a brother pull scraps out of her.
it's a road she doesn't let her mind wander down too far. ❱
If I could, I wouldn't mind the experience. That's not so wasteful as just smashing them into the ground. ❰ she's not one to discount the artistic merit of something, especially if it's a custom. this is an odd holiday, she admits, at least in how it's celebrated. honoring the darker aspect of the world isn't at all strange, but throwing about candy and pumpkins...how it relates to the actual holiday is lost on her. she'd never be so rude as to openly question it...it's all just a learning curve. ❱
Mostly I wonder if they'll let us have any to take for our own use. They're fine to roast, if they're at all like the pumpkins we had at home. ❰ the colour and size is odd, but gourds generally have the same kind of composition. ❱ And it would be nice to make a good soup if it gets cold...
—Not immediately, of course... ❰ once she's not occupying the real estate of this nice soup pot, anyway. she's not sure if she'd be capable of actually cooking anything — or how sanitary it would even be, made by a slime. ❱
( roasted pumpkins, hmm, hmmmmmm, that might be worth talking some revelers out of a few of their less launchable gourds. or a soup! 'not immediately, of course,' she adds, and wei ying shakes his head emphatically. ) No no, certainly not, ( he agrees, ) But can we even take them back with us? We may have to cook them here. ( will she even regain her proper form by then? he's not sure how such things work, here. if all else fails, she could give him instructions and wei ying could try his best? )
❰ she can't feel when she speaks, but she can feel the every vibration of the cauldron she's in as they move forward. each step causes a more harsh ripple — barely noticeable on her surface (which is a hard thing to have to internalize; she has 'a surface,' not 'skin') but definitely something she can somehow feel. it isn't dizzying, but it still makes her conscious shake, and even that's an awkward way to describe it. ❱
That's true. I've only been in dream spaces minimally...I've yet to test their limits. ❰ not that she's especially adventurous to begin with. but if there was something she'd be willing to experiment with, it makes sense it would involve food of some kind.
she laughs, which is perhaps odd...coming from a slime, reverberating through the air via her disembodied vocal chords. ❱ I know I could rely on you to do the practical work, but could I trust you to roast a pumpkin?
( for the record, if wei ying were made aware of such disconcerting jiggling, he might take a bit more care to smooth out the ride for poor gelatinous shijie. as it stands, she seems quite comfy settled in as she is, for however comfy an involuntary ooze can ever really be.
but now they're talking about- no, they're doubting his pumpkin-roasting prowess, and he lets out a vaguely 'aiya'-shaped sound of protest. ) My very own shijie doesn't think I can roast a pumpkin! I'm wounded. I know exactly how to do it, you just take the pumpkin and you-... well, you roast it. You see?
❰ in a fit of giggles, not only does jiang yanli's small laugh become audible again, she also undulates against the sides of the cauldron, gummy surface jigging at a faster speed. ❱
A-Xian, I can imagine you lighting a fire and piercing a whole pumpkin with a spear to put over it. Or have a rudely underestimated you and your roasting prowess?
( okay, that's. that's absolutely a thing he would do, no question about it. in fact, he vaguely recalls getting scolded by wen qing for that very thing. but! wei ying's pointing his free index finger down at the slime, waggling it a bit. ) Now, you see here, ( he says, which may be the fondest scolding to ever be delivered but that's neither here nor there. ) I've roasted all kinds of things. It's not as if I packed one of your fancy stoves up the mountain, you know. You'd be surprised what sorts of things a man can roast.
❰ after becoming a slime, jiang yanli's form was basically one mass of matter with a disregard for the surface tension of most things. this particular talent hasn't been fully explored yet — there are no cliffs to watch her expertly maneuver down, walls to ever-so-quickly ooze up in a feat that appears to defy gravity.
though, truthfully, she doesn't even need a surface to attach herself to in order to achieve movement. instinctually, all it takes is a desire and a portion of her reaches upward to smoothly spin around wei wuxian's finger; a teasing handshake of sorts. her surface is cool, and has an odd texture that isn't sticky or slimy...but that might leave the impression that her withdrawal would leave behind a residue, like the sensation of one's hand after it's been clasped by a clammy, elderly relative. ❱
Then in that case, I'm sure that you can achieve cooking a well-rounded meal tonight without my assistance. I'm sad you haven't roasted your eldest sister anything before, being a master at the craft...before now, when I can't enjoy the fruits of your labor.
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it's hard to describe exactly how her body — well, that's an incorrect title, but it's complicated to describe otherwise — feels in this moment, and how her senses are actually working despite her physical form devolving into a faintly lilac pile of ooze. she has some sense of vision: she can look upwards and see the moving image of wei wuxian, visible from an upward angle as she bumps along with the rhythm of the motions of his chest. she can hear, despite having no physical ears, and speak in a very disconnected way. there's no mouth for her to feel words coming from. instead, whatever she thinks to say is just echoed into the air at a warbling frequency. if one didn't know she was jiggling in a cauldron, they may hear her voice and assume she's at a distance — maybe trapped in a shallow hole in the ground, or a nearby cave by how it resounds.
the first half hour in this state had been very nerve-wracking — and it's a tribute to her resilience in that she isn't actually that discontent about this situation, even now. but logically other people are going through similar things — and jiang yanli is aware enough to know the pattern of things like this. you go through some harrowing ordeal, and then it rights itself eventually. a day, a week, et cetera. for now, it's mostly inconvenient.
not totally able to see what her options are, and having a vague sense of how to use her sight (even with the absence of actual eyes), she forces herself upward and allows a little of herself to seep onto the lip of the cauldron and over the edge just slightly. everything about her existence is very instinctual: somehow she can think she wants to go up, and so she does, even as a slime with no muscles, tendons, bones. ❱
I don't think I'd be up to trying any food...it's hard to say if I could eat, but I'm sure if I could— I don't think it would be so pleasant. ❰ being tinted, made of some kind of mass that's able to be seen through, she can imagine a vegetable or piece of fish to just sit inside of her, traveling with her as she moved. or, perhaps, her form would find some way to perform digestion, and even being family...her brother doesn't need to see whatever that may look like. ❱ Pumpkins, though...that could be fun! I wonder if they're just for flinging, or if they may leave some left over.
❰ satisfied with observing the various turned people milling about, and knowing the direction they're heading, jiang yanli slides back into the cauldron, form tightened back together and vibrating like a flat of firm pudding as they continue to step along. ❱ Not that I could do much with them in this state...but for later, perhaps.
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oh, but she's peering up over the ledge now, and it's so much cuter than one might expect from a puddle of slime. he can't explain it, it just is, and wei ying has to remind himself to watch where he's going instead of just watching darling slimejie in her (successful! one couldn't find a more talented slime) attempt to see the sights a bit. she settles on pumpkins, whatever it is that they might do with them, and 'that could be fun' earns another bright grin before he lifts a searching gaze to identify which route seems best to pick their way through the festivities. ) Would you like to carve one? That's the custom, if I recall - we cut spooky little faces in them, then fill them with candles.
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it's a road she doesn't let her mind wander down too far. ❱
If I could, I wouldn't mind the experience. That's not so wasteful as just smashing them into the ground. ❰ she's not one to discount the artistic merit of something, especially if it's a custom. this is an odd holiday, she admits, at least in how it's celebrated. honoring the darker aspect of the world isn't at all strange, but throwing about candy and pumpkins...how it relates to the actual holiday is lost on her. she'd never be so rude as to openly question it...it's all just a learning curve. ❱
Mostly I wonder if they'll let us have any to take for our own use. They're fine to roast, if they're at all like the pumpkins we had at home. ❰ the colour and size is odd, but gourds generally have the same kind of composition. ❱ And it would be nice to make a good soup if it gets cold...
—Not immediately, of course... ❰ once she's not occupying the real estate of this nice soup pot, anyway. she's not sure if she'd be capable of actually cooking anything — or how sanitary it would even be, made by a slime. ❱
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That's true. I've only been in dream spaces minimally...I've yet to test their limits. ❰ not that she's especially adventurous to begin with. but if there was something she'd be willing to experiment with, it makes sense it would involve food of some kind.
she laughs, which is perhaps odd...coming from a slime, reverberating through the air via her disembodied vocal chords. ❱ I know I could rely on you to do the practical work, but could I trust you to roast a pumpkin?
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but now they're talking about- no, they're doubting his pumpkin-roasting prowess, and he lets out a vaguely 'aiya'-shaped sound of protest. ) My very own shijie doesn't think I can roast a pumpkin! I'm wounded. I know exactly how to do it, you just take the pumpkin and you-... well, you roast it. You see?
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A-Xian, I can imagine you lighting a fire and piercing a whole pumpkin with a spear to put over it. Or have a rudely underestimated you and your roasting prowess?
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though, truthfully, she doesn't even need a surface to attach herself to in order to achieve movement. instinctually, all it takes is a desire and a portion of her reaches upward to smoothly spin around wei wuxian's finger; a teasing handshake of sorts. her surface is cool, and has an odd texture that isn't sticky or slimy...but that might leave the impression that her withdrawal would leave behind a residue, like the sensation of one's hand after it's been clasped by a clammy, elderly relative. ❱
Then in that case, I'm sure that you can achieve cooking a well-rounded meal tonight without my assistance. I'm sad you haven't roasted your eldest sister anything before, being a master at the craft...before now, when I can't enjoy the fruits of your labor.