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#sun and moon pagoda
madeleineengland · 1 year
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The Sun and Moon Pagodas in Guilin, China (photo by Nathan Ackley)
Sun & Moon Twin Pagodas are one of the greatest attractions in Guilin, situated in Shanhu (Shan Lake).
The word sun and moon in Chinese character written together meant brightness. They are also known as Gold and Silver Pagodas because of their colors at night. They stand next to each other reflecting the beauty of each other.
Originally built in Guilin's moat during the Tang dynasty, these tiered towers were reconstructed in 2001 and now they are a tourist site combining culture, art, religion, and architecture, technology, and natural landscape.
The "Sun" Pagoda is constructed with copper; it has 9 floors and reaches a height of 41 metres. The "Moon" Pagoda's construction is made of marble; it has 7 floors and measuring 35 meters high. The two pagodas are connected via a tunnel at the bottom of the lake.
From the Moon Pagoda to the Sun Pagoda, there is a 10-meter glass tunnel that links the two under water. When walking through the tunnel, one can see the fish above the head and on both sides.
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sheltiechicago · 1 year
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Sun And Moon Pagodas In Guilin, China
Photographer: oddprophet63
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travelnew · 2 months
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Love is in the air
Happy Valentine's Day
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evilsment · 4 months
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🌞 Sun and Moon Pagodas | 日月双塔 🌚
Originally built in Guilin, Guangxi during the Tang dynasty (618-917) the pagodas were reconstructed in 2001.
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ruibaozha · 4 months
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The Inconsistency of Nezha's Age, a Short Introduction.
Put very bluntly, Nezha’s age varies greatly depending on which story you’re reading and who’s retold it. He is not always a child or an adult depending on retelling, though my intention here is to highlight the sheer variety available first and foremost - and perhaps shine a light on the Indian dieties which may have influenced him. If these varied images are unwanted, please keep scrolling.
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I happened to stumble upon a timeline error where Nezha’s brother Muzha is described to be using martial arts weapons referred to as “Hooks of Wu” which were specific to the 1800s, quite a long time after Canonization of the Gods was published, but also originating from a time period where numerous varied editions of that story were in circulation. Upwards of twenty different versions exclusive to the 19th century, actually.
The problem arises that Canonization of the Gods is meant to be occurring during the Zhou Shang conflict, that I will generously assume to be in 1045BCE, centuries before the Hooks of Wu would actually exist. It’s completely possible that the version Gu Zhizhong translated was one of these later editions as is makes no chronological sense for Muzha to have those kinds of weapons to begin with. So I have been on somewhat of a rabbit chase trying to pin down the edition Gu Zhizhong used.
Bearing such errors in mind, it’s easy to see where the confusion of Nezha’s age can come from. Before his origin story was integrated within Canonization of the Gods he would be roughly three to seven days old when his conflict with Ao Guang and the Lady Rock Demoness would occur - whereas within Canonization of the Gods he’s actually 6 or 7 years old.
Outside of that, a definitive age isn’t actually provided. Genuinely, within the scope of Chinese folklore and mythos it’s very rare to assign someone an exact age - which I do believe contributed heavily to the known discourse surrounding Nezha’s age to begin with.
He was imported as an adult from India, a child form not seeming to exist for a while until stories of Krsna were integrated to how the Chinese envisioned Nalakubara. Krsna, being an infantile disguise for the notorious Vishnu, also displays supernatural human strength and is actually successful in killing his father figure (1) — unlike Nezha.
As children, both Krsna and Nezha are able to wield heavenly bows and subjugate water spirits (2) while also being known to be dragon tamers (3). The inclusion of these stories to Nezha predates the sculpting of the Quanzhou Pagoda’s (which have been discussed briefly here) and are arguably the earliest evidence of Nezha being a dragon tamer.
Speculatively a child god combination of both Nalakubara and Krsna named Nana is likely where a majority of Nezha’s child attributes come from, based in the Scripture of the Supreme Secrets of Nana Deva - which would see translations within China during the Northern Song period of 960AD-1127AD. Nana would be described thus:
At that time there was a Deva called Nana. His appearance was exceptionally handsome, and his face beamed with a gentle smile. He was holding the sun, the moon, and various weapons. His numerous treasures and abundant jewelry shone more brightly than the sun and the moon. He made himself a luoye robe (4) from the dragons Nanda and Upananda, and a belt from the dragon Taksaka (5). He possessed the same strength as Narayana (i.e. Visnu). He too came to the assembly and sat down facing the Buddha … At that time the Buddha emanated great light from his dharma body of meditation. The light covered the entire Buddha Universe, reaching all the great evil yaksas, the various types of raksasas and pisacas (6) and all the evil dragons as far as the heavenly constellations. When the Buddhas light shone upon them they all awoke to the truth. The Buddhas light returned to him and, after encircling him three times, entered his head. It then reissued in seven colors from his brow, entering Nana-Deva’s head. When the Buddha light penetrated his head, Nana Deva displayed an enormous body like Mt. Sumeru. His facial expression alternated between terrifying anger and a broad smile. He had a thousand arms, and he was holding a skull (7) and numerous weapons. He was handsomely adorned with a tiger skin robe and skulls. [Mightily Strong] He emanated blazing light and terrifying strength. When Nana Deva displayed this divine body, the great earth shook, and all who beheld him were terrified.
Both Nana and Nezha share the same residence of Vaisravana’s palace, are known dragon tamers, and both were known to use belts. The Supreme Secrets of Nana Deva predate all known connections between Nezha and dragons, perhaps lending to Nezha many more elements than initially believed.
Though without concrete evidence stating one way or another, I can only present this information speculatively - especially as it seems difficult for some to understand that Nezha does enjoy a known adult and child form. This answer has already become quite long, so if there’s still confusion regarding this please feel free to ask for more details.
Bibliography:
(1) Goldman, “Fathers, Sons and Gurus,” pp.350, 364; Masson, “Childhood of Krsna”; Ramanujan, “The Indian ‘Oedipus’”; Silk, Riven by Lust, pp. 164-170.
(2) Harley, “Krishna’s Cosmic Victories”; Matchett, “Taming of Kaliya”.
(3) It’s worth comparing Matchett’s “Taming of Kaliya” p.116 with Canonization of the Gods 12.103. Nezha is five days old within the Ming era Sanjiao yuanliu shengdi fozu sou shen daquan, p. 326.
(4) Luoye is the Chinese term for a garment Indian men tied under the armpit, leaving their right shoulder bare. See Xuanzang, Da Tang Xiyu ji, T. 2087, 51: 876b, and Li Rongxi’s translation, Great Tang Dynasty Record, p.53.
(5) Nanda, Upananda, and Taksaka appear in various Buddhist lists of the eight dragon kings; see Foguang da cidian, pp. 6378,6405.
(6) The rakasas and pisacas are two types of Hindu ogres, who Buddhists demonology incorporated. Both types feed on human flesh. See Foguang da cidian, pp6673-6674 and 3851; Monier-Williams, A Sanskrit-English dictionary, pp. 871 and 628; and Strickman’s survey of Buddhist demonology in his Chinese Magical Medicine, pp. 62-68.
(7) Geboluo appears frequently within the contemporaneous Chinese translation of the Hevajra Tantra (Foshuo dabeikong zhi jin’guang dajiaowang yigui jing), no. 892 volume 18: 587-601.
(8) Zuishang mimi Nana tian jing, no. 1288, 21:358b-c. hi
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revasserium · 8 months
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congratulations 2K followers may I request Victor from ikevil?Theme 17.number the stars.Thank you,have a nice day💕
number the stars
victor; 1,347 words; fluff, mostly -- kinda weird but victor is also kinda weird so i hope you don't mind nonny -- and thanks so much for sending something in!!!
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“count the stars with me,” he says one night, his hair dark as the shade of a broken promise, his smile just as sweet. you purse your lips, looking up from the typewriter at your desk.
“i’m… sorry?” you ask, quirking your head as you lean back in your chair, wondering if you’d heard correctly.
victor’s smile is moon-sliver and cyanide, and you find yourself drawn inexplicably to it, like a comet towards the sun.
“come,” he says, offering you a hand, standing by your door, looking for all the world as if he were inviting you for tea. but you know better than that now — don’t you? you wonder.
you get up anyway, telling yourself that you’d been wanting to stretch your legs anyways and the gardens should be beautiful at this hour.
“it’s — it’s a full moon tonight,” you say, tilting your head back to admire the scattered light of the milky way, streaked across the sky. beside you, victor hums in agreement. you feel his eyes on you before you see him, the dull simmer and heat of his gaze as it grazes over your skin, soft as fingertips, strong as sin.
“how many do you think there are?” he asks, casually, turning when you catch him staring, unabashed even as your own cheeks flush with heat.
“what, the stars?” you ask, casting your eyes back up.
“yes.”
you purse your lips, unable to keep your curiosity from bubbling over.
“why?”
victor’s body shakes with his blue-bell laughter, “why not wonder such things?”
you resist the urge to roll your eyes. but of course — has victor ever really needed a reason? or a rhyme, for that matter?
“i don’t know… billions… more than billions, probably,” you say, thinking back to the various headlines you’d seen splashed across the front pages of the papers — scientific discovery this, neighboring galaxies that. you let out a soft sigh as victor turns his head back towards you.
“mm… strange, isn’t it? that we’re all so terribly insignificant and yet… here we are… struggling against our own insignificance every hour of every day…” he flicks a silken strand of hair from his shoulders, leading you towards the tiny pagoda where you’d all shared afternoon tea.
“strange? i… i don’t think so,” you sit down next to him, pressing your palms to the cool of the bench beneath you, “i mean… all the stars up there…” you wave your hand at the vast expanse of night sky, “they’re all just… burning themselves up, aren’t they? isn’t that… a struggle against insignificance too? isn’t that… it’s own kind of curse?”
victor opens his mouth, and then he blinks, pauses. no sound comes from him for a solid ten seconds before his entire body spills into a fit of near-silent laughter. you watch him, caught between confusion and bewilderment, wondering if you’d said something truly strange before he shakes his head and presses a large, warm palm to the top of your head.
“yes — yes that they are… just burning themselves up… all for us to call them beautiful — terrible, isn’t it? i can’t think of anything worse in the world than being a star…” he’s still chuckling when he finishes, pulling his hand away from your head to smile at you, a darkness twinkling behind his eyes that you’ve never quite had the courage to question.
“you’re making fun of me,” you say, narrowing your eyes and making to pull away, but victor shakes his head and pulls you back, humming happily as you topple easily into his chest.
“not in the slightest! i just… i just love the way you think, that’s all.”
you can’t help the shiver that chases its way down your spine at the softness of his words, at the closeness of his voice, brushing by your ear like a summer breeze. you swallow hard as his arm comes almost naturally to rest around your waist, and when you look up, it’s once again to find him watching you. you press your lips into a line and try not to stare at the beauty mark on his bottom lip but —
“ah… if you keep looking at me like that…” victor grins as he leans down, a finger tipping your chin up towards him, his voice thick with honey, warm as poison, “i can’t promise… i’ll be able to keep being such a gentleman…”
you lick your lips, watch as his eyes flicker down to track the movement. your breath flutters in your chest, hummingbird quick.
“i — i thought you asked me out here to c-count the stars…”
victor grins, “certainly i did… and i am… see? they’re right here…” he leans in, so close you’re almost nose to nose, so close you almost go cross-eyed to keep him in focus.
“right here… i think i can see the entire sky in your eyes…”
a tiny whine works it’s way out of your throat and victor tuts, shaking his head.
“i’ve been waiting to use that line for quite some time but…” he makes to pull away, only for you to pull him back with your fingers fisting in the thick silk and velvet of his clothes.
your throat feels dry, but you swallow passed the desert blooming at the base of your tongue as your search his face for a sign — any sign —
“h-how many are there?” you ask, your voice softer than you remember.
victor’s eyebrows twitch, “how many… what?” but the curve of his lips tells you another story.
“how many stars did you count?”
fire licks its way up your stomach into your chest as you feel his fingers tighten around your waist.
“i… i’ll admit that i’ve lost count — i’ve been distracted, you see —” victor’s grin tilts like a planet on it’s axis, and you feel your world shift along with it, degree by degree. like this, you can almost taste the weight of his words, the sound of his breathing, the liquid of his smile — like this, you want to sink your fingers into the fine gossamer of his hair and tug —
he is kissing you before you realize, severing your thoughts with the silver scissor precision of his mouth and you’re left untethered, clutching at him with the tips of your fingers, feeling him pulling you close, close, closer — a thick moan winds its way from his throat and you lean in further, push your mouth to his to take it in, to take it all in —
“please…”
his voice is shaking when he pulls away, his lips the perfect shade of treason.
you don’t feel your own trembling until he pulls you closer, buries his face in the crook of your neck and breathes.
“gods…” he says, wrapping both arms around you, his voice a wreck of barely contained emotions, of barely restrained desires, “by all the stars…”
you find yourself smiling as you let yourself be held, let yourself sink into the tremor and shake of this thing — held between the negative space of your bodies — whatever it is, at least you know it’s precious. at least you know it’s the most sacred kind of burning.
“all of them?” you ask, in what you hope is a light, playful kind of voice, even as victor lets you pull away, to reach up to brush a few fallen strands of hair from his face with your fingers, “we don’t even know how many there are.”
victor’s smile is indulgent and full of surrender.
“no… we don’t,” he reaches up to trail his fingers through your hair, thumbing at the ends as he shakes his head, “but… i think with you… i’d like to try.”
“try… what?”
“why… counting all the stars of the sky, of course.”
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requests are open! <3
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galadae · 6 months
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blame the rain
rating: Explicit - minors do not interact pairing: Calantha Lenn/Hien Rijin words: 4.3k summary: Calantha reluctantly realizes she can no longer ignore her feelings, and ignores her own voice of reason instead. Hien wants to not think about his problems for 5 minutes. notes: Occurs right before 4.5, all spoilers are under the cut. It briefly references this prompt fic where they first kissed ao3 link
The Gates of the Moon frame their namesake, half hidden behind thick, rolling clouds. The breeze casts dark ripples on the One River. Night birds call across the heavy air of the enclave. Trees sway above fishing boats, moored for the night. Thunder rolls in the distance. 
An apt unrest to match her thoughts. Calantha paces near the pagoda of the One Garden, looking out towards the ferry. She should go inside, with how this weather is turning. Rain is imminent. But the room she's spent the last few weeks in now feels like a stuffy trap.
She takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with the smell of the trees. Tomorrow they depart for Ala Mhigo. Half the scions, and now Alphinaud, lie in some strange limbo. Alisae was by his side tonight, as she had been many nights since his return. She'd been asleep when Calantha last checked. That was one small mercy, at least. 
She exhales. It does nothing to calm her. She’ll handle whatever comes, as she always does. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I’m so tired.  
She plops down on a stool facing the river, and pulls a knee up to her chest. Thunder rumbles again, closer this time. The wind picks up, casting dark ripples on the surface of the water. She rubs her arms. Should’ve brought a jacket. 
The Scions’ absence has jarred her more than any recent loss. If it can be called that. Not dead, but not here. Thancred’s wit and steady friendship. Urianger’s quiet, eclectic logic. Y’shtola’s curiosity and biting humor. And Alphinaud’s hope and resolve, naive though they could be–Calantha worries for him most. Without them it’s as if she’s unmoored, nothing but a lone adventurer again. She despises the feeling. 
I won't let them die. We have time. We'll figure something out. Worrying about it solves nothing. The words echo, hollow, in her mind.     
The roiling clouds and thunder do little to soothe the surreal loneliness around her. I wish the sun would hurry up and rise so I can stop brooding. She snorts at the thought. Better to get up and move. A distraction would be welcome.
Calantha strides down the street past darkened windows and pale lanterns. It’s one or two bells after midnight. All should be asleep, except perhaps the guards at their posts. The walls dull the wind, giving her a short relief from the night chill. 
She glances in the direction of the Kienkan. She hopes Hien at least is faring better than she is tonight. 
Her thoughts wander towards him often these days, despite her own best judgment. She feels pulled to him, and he to her, judging by the time he kissed her. And she’d gone and returned the favor. Calantha sighs. She doesn’t have time for this. Not now. But it’s hard to ignore the presence of something between them. Something beyond the comfortable bonds of friendship. Sometimes it’s a touch on the arm, or a glance that lingers too long, or a smile laced with more affection than a smile has any right to. Let alone the kiss— It becomes more difficult every moment she spends with him.  
She reaches the edge of the docks and stops. 
This can never be more than what it is now , she thinks. I'm not ready for that. Terrible time to have feelings.  
But what is it, now? In truth they hadn’t spoken of the kiss. With all the events that followed their trip to the Azim Steppe, she hadn't asked. And neither had he. Perhaps it was the same for him, engrossed in restoring the enclave and bringing Doma back from the ashes, and now the task of defense barriers and sending allies to Ala Mhigo. What time had he for such things?
But my heart feels lighter around him. He's like fresh air. Unexpected. The sun breaking through clouds. 
Her heart flutters as she thinks of his laugh, his smile, the way his eyes flash when excitement or anger takes them. She catches herself smiling. 
“Ugh. Gods…” she groans, scowling. This is ridiculous. I cannot keep thinking about him like this. At least I’m no longer worrying about the Scions– 
“Ah, Calantha! I didn't expect to see you here,” Hien calls from behind her. 
Her heart lurches. She whirls to face him. How had she not heard him approach? Her cheeks burn. She’s grateful her blush isn’t visible in the low light.
“You have a face to match the coming storm,” he says with a laugh. “What’s made your mood so foul?” 
She rubs her face with her hand. “Nothing, really. Thoughts got away from me, that’s all.” 
He steps up next to her. “Would you like help collecting them?” 
She takes a deep breath to regain her composure and seats herself on one of the crates clustered around a lamppost. “They’re best left scattered,” she sighs. “Don’t worry about it.” 
“Then let us leave them be.” He looks off into the distance, and she sees he’s wearing none of his armor. The usual absent sleeve is pulled over his shoulder.
She squints at him. “Why are you here? It’s about to rain.” She can’t help the hint of annoyance in her voice. He could have tried not to startle her. 
“Sleep eludes me,” he replies, almost flippantly. “I’ve been walking about, hoping that will tire me, but to no end. Besides, I would ask the same of you.” He raises an eyebrow, with his familiar smirk. “Unless you sulk by the docks every night, and I was simply unaware?” 
“Sulk?” Calantha can’t keep the ghost of a smile from her lips, despite herself. The relief of no longer having to be alone with her thoughts outweighs her embarrassment. “No, the sulking is just for tonight.”
He motions to the space next to her. “May I sit?”
“Don't let me stop you.” Calantha returns her gaze to the river as he settles beside her. His knee brushes her thigh for a moment. She feels almost disappointed when he moves it away.
“May I ask what thoughts trouble you?” he says. He stares out at the water before glancing back at her. 
She doesn’t feel like elaborating on her worries. He knows of the Scions already. She shrugs. “Problems I can't solve.”
He nods. “I know the feeling well.” 
Lightning illuminates the clouds, malms away, followed by thunder a moment later. Calantha drums her fingers against her knee. She now has a reason to stay outside, despite the weather.
Hien stares across the river towards the ruins of the castle. He notices her gaze and gives her a small smile, but it falls from his face as he looks away. 
She clears her throat. "What about your thoughts?” She asks. “Would you like them collected, or thrown to the wind?”
He chuckles. “Perhaps tossed into the Ruby Sea and forgotten.” His voice betrays a weariness she hasn’t seen from him in awhile. “As if either of us have that luxury.”
She wonders what worries plague his thoughts; whether the same restless loneliness she felt moments ago haunts him. How long he's spent trying to sleep. 
Before she can stop herself, she covers his hand with hers. In solidarity, or sympathy, or a fool's affection, she doesn't know which.
“We both have a great deal to think about,” she says, looking out across the water. She hopes her voice doesn't betray the way her heart hammers. “An unfortunate thing to have in common.”
He stares at her hand for a moment. 
“Perhaps not that unfortunate, if this is the result.” He takes it. His smile brightens. She feels that familiar spark of affection, drawing her to him. I should let go of his hand, before this goes too far. 
She doesn’t. 
“If you’re worried about Ala Mhigo, the negotiations – Whatever happens, we’ll get through it. We’ll have everyone there together.” 
She looks down at their hands, both calloused. She twines their fingers together. “Lost sleep will save no one in the end.”
“Then we should try to forget our cares and rest, I suppose.” He squeezes her hand. “Although I find myself not yet ready to return to bed.” 
“It’s the same for me,” she says. She stares at the ground. She hates how her heart quivers at this small touch, but she doesn't want to leave. Maybe this will be enough to chase the worries away. 
More lightning flashes in the distance, followed by thunder, rolling ever closer. They watch as the clouds sweep over the moon. The wind whips into their hair. Hien puts his other hand over both of theirs, and leans his head against her shoulder. She savors the warmth of his palm. Every moment the wind blows brings the rain nearer, and their time of solace closer to an end. The uncertainty of whatever the morning will bring looms with the storm.
They'll be swept up in their duties again. It may be awhile before they have another moment to themselves. She doesn't want it to end, yet.
Before she can think better of it, she speaks. “Hien?” She murmurs his name, afraid of what she will ask him. Truly a terrible idea, Calantha.  “Would it help you forget your troubles if–if I kissed you?” 
He laughs softly, a short breath between his teeth. “Would it help you?”
Thunder rolls again, but she pays it no mind. His face is close, too close, breath warm on her cheek. Calantha cups his face and gives her answer on his lips.
She starts with a gentle brush of their lips, and lets the next kisses linger longer. Her hand wanders up into his hair. Her heartbeat quickens as she feels his hands slip to her waist, pulling her closer.
He leans into her. His breath is hot against her mouth. The eager weight of his body almost tilts her off balance. She shifts to keep herself upright and throws an arm around his shoulders. She can hear the thunder and feel the droplets begin to fall around her. 
Calantha finds she doesn’t care. 
Hien pulls away after a moment, breathless from the kiss. He leans his forehead against her cheek. The warmth she feels now keeps her close to him, even as the rain falls heavier. She can feel the water seeping into her shirt, running through her hair. 
“I suppose our time here is up,” she says, her voice low. “We should go if we don't want to catch a cold in the morning.”
The wind gusts. She shields her face from the rain drops thrown in her face as she stands. 
“Calantha, wait.” 
Hien reaches for her hand. "If you'd like company –That is, if the conversation would ease your mind. You are welcome to stay with me.”
She feels her cheeks grow hot again. “Hien…Don't let me keep you awake on my account.”
“You aren't.” He steps closer. “I would rather be awake with you than alone.”
She stares at him. If she goes with him, she knows she’ll kiss him again. Probably best not to. I need to sleep. 
As if she’d sleep any better now than before. She takes his hand. Why should she refuse the company she wants, when he offers it freely?
“I'll stay,” she murmurs. “At least until the rain stops. Now let's hurry.”
They rush back to the Kienkan, thoroughly soaked by the time they step into the darkened doorway. They're met by the nods and quizzical looks of a few guards. They say nothing until Hien slides the door of his room shut behind them. 
Hien lights a lantern, painting the walls with a low, warm glow. His room is simple, with a mattress in the corner, a few flooring mats, a low table pushed against the wall, stacked with papers, maps, and scrolls. Rain hammers the roof above. They leave their wet shoes by the door.
Hien smiles at her, eyes bright. “Please sit, if you wish,” he says, motioning to the mattress. “I have little in the way of cushions at the moment, but it will be softer than the floor.”
She follows him to the back of the room. 
“Here. If you are cold.” He hands her a worn blanket.
She stares at it, clutching it gingerly in one hand. “But then your blanket will be wet too?" she asks. “And the mattress. I’m not sitting on your bed like this. I’m soaked.” 
Hien runs his hand through his hair and looks behind him. “I suppose if you need it, I have a spare shirt...”
Calantha drops the blanket and takes his hand. It's hard to keep from smiling at his sudden awkwardness. He seems so reserved compared to when he first dared to kiss her. “I'll dry out soon enough,” she says. “As long as you don't mind me dripping a little on the floor.”
He looks up at her. “I am simply glad you're here. Drip all you'd like.” He squeezes her hand. 
His smile, the giddiness from their earlier kisses and the run in the rain has lifted her spirits. She steps closer, until their toes are almost touching.  
“Hien–I don't know what I'd have done without you tonight.”
“Stand on the docks, damp and alone?” He smirks at her.  
“Maybe,” she scoffs. “But it might have been the same for you if I hadn't been there, and you know it.”
“Well. I must thank you for rescuing me.” He leans up to kiss her cheek. 
A gentle, persistent warmth grows in her chest, beyond the giddy blushes from before. She wraps her arms around his shoulders. Despite their damp clothing, she can feel his body heat. It comforts her. Whatever this is, she has no desire to overthink it. They understand each other, and enjoy each other's company. In this moment, it's enough. 
Or it would be, if she could stop thinking about kissing him again. Wishing he’d pull her back into a tight embrace. Wondering what his hands would feel like on the rest of her skin.
His eyes shine even in the low light of the lantern. Why are you here? You should be in your own bed. Trying to sleep. The tiny voice of logic in her mind whines. 
She shuts it out and brushes a kiss to his lips. Hien's sigh against her cheek sends what little of her cares remain to the back of her mind. He returns each of her kisses, reaching up to hold the back of her neck, breath mingling with hers. He slides his other hand around her hip. Her heartbeat quickens at his touch. She tilts her head, deepening the kiss. 
“There are other ways to forget our troubles,” she whispers, as he presses his forehead against her cheek. “If you should want them.”
He’s breathless from the kiss. “I want to be with you,” he murmurs against her neck. “If that is also your wish.”
“It is.” She kisses his temple and brushes wet hair from his face. “Besides, we won’t need to worry about wet clothes if we take them off.”
He laughs as he leans into her touch. “You have a point.”
Even without his armor, his clothes are full of bright cords and ties. The ribbons in his hair, on his trousers, his belt and sash. All she can think of is loosening them. In truth, she's thought of it many times since the first moment they kissed. She hasn't dared to let herself admit it. She touches the maroon silk of his sash. "May I?"
He kisses her again, hands around her waist. “Please.”
She grins, heart racing, and gets to work. She leaves him with a kiss for each part she loosens. Cords slip from her fingers to the floor. Without his armor she makes short work of them. His robe falls open. She slides his sleeves from his shoulders, leaving his chest bare.
Calantha has only a moment to admire him before he steps closer. His fingers touch the hollow of her throat, sliding to the bottom of her neckline, just below her breasts. He tugs at the seam, gently, pulling her closer, and presses another kiss on her jaw. His fingers are warm on her damp skin. A pleasant shiver rolls down her spine.
She unwraps the sash holding her shirt in place. He peels the wet garment from her shoulders with a breathless chuckle, and holds her gaze for a moment before letting his hand trace down to her navel. He presses his hand against her stomach, sliding his fingers under her belt, and leaves another kiss to her neck. A soft gasp leaves her lips unbidden.
They sink onto the mattress. Hien's clothes are now a pool of bright, damp fabric and fur on the floor around them. His fingers fumble with the buttons on her own trousers. As he does, she can't help but stare at the muscles and pale scars along his torso. She touches his stomach, wondering how he got them, admiring the trail of dark hair down from his navel. 
“I’ll need to hear about these,” she says. He laughs. “After,” he says. He bends over her and kisses her neck. His skin against hers, warm, soft over muscle, fans the flames of her want. The heat in her chest becomes a fire in her stomach, a hunger inside her. Another draw to him that she can’t escape. Not that she wants to. 
She hasn't had anyone touch her like this in years. She knows it’s the same for him. She can feel a firmness against her thigh as he presses himself close to her. He cups her breast and slides his fingers beneath the band of her bra.
Calantha leans her head back into the pillow as he kisses down her sternum. Two cords remain. She tugs at the one in his hair. 
He tilts his head, letting her slip the ribbon from his hair. It falls in a dark curtain around his shoulders, a mess from the rain. She slides her hand into it, pulling his face closer. 
It’s not long before the rest of their clothes join the scattered pile around them.
The room feels chilly on her damp skin, but she only knows the growing flames between them. His hand traces the scars on her ribs and stomach. One from Zenos, one from the Heavens Ward. She wants to tell him everything, if he’ll hear her. Later . He brushes his thumb across her nipple, drawing a sigh from her mouth. Definitely later. 
Calantha bites her lip as he caresses her breast. The urgency of her desire grows with each touch. She whispers in his ear. “Will you touch me?” A breathless plea against his cheek as she wraps her leg around him.
Hien gives her an eager kiss and settles an arm behind her head. Her heart races as he trails a path with his finger down her stomach, below her navel, into the curls between her thighs. He kisses her neck as he caresses her folds, not daring to dip inside her. Taunting her with the thought of sweetness. She grunts in frustration. “Hien–”
Before she can say more his fingers find her clit. She arches her hips into him with a whimper. He sets a gentle, steady rhythm and she leans her head back, savoring his touch. 
Hien watches her face, attentive to her expression. He strokes her, stoking her need, and she can’t help the breathless sighs that spring from her mouth. His own face is flushed as he slips his fingers deeper into her slick. She can feel him, hard against her leg. She runs her hand onto his hair, writhing her hips against his hand. 
He leaves hot, open mouthed kisses on her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Each one fans the flames of her desire more than the last. His tongue finds her nipple, toying with her bar piercing. She moans. Her need for him courses through her body, bringing out a feverish hunger she hasn't felt in years. 
It's been so long since she's had this kind of touch from another. 
She wants him closer. She needs all of him. More than his hands. Calantha can barely think. “Hien, I–I–” She touches his cock, stroking the length of it with a finger. He gives a breathless laugh. “What is it?”  
She places a hand on his chest. “I need more of you,” she says. She pushes him gently to the side and props herself up on her elbow. He raises an eyebrow in question. “On your back?” she asks. His eyes widen briefly and he nods, eager, drinking in the sight of her as she straddles his waist.
Calantha leans over to kiss him. He sighs into her mouth, running a hand over each thigh.
She wastes no time guiding him into her. Her breath catches as she slides fully onto his cock, her swollen cunt flush around him. She braces her hands on his chest and grins down at him. “How's this?”
Hien draws a shaky breath. He looks up at her with half a crooked half smile, cheeks burning. “Take care, or this will be over all too quickly.”
Calantha smirks. “Don't worry.” She leans down to whisper in his ear. “We have the rest of the night.”
His laugh turns to a groan as she rolls her hips. Hien grips her waist. The feel of him inside her, filling her, makes her heart race. His face is flushed, his gaze moving between her face, the dance of her hips and the bounce of her breasts above him. 
Their shared panting breaths mingle with the rhythm of the rain on the roof. His skin against hers, his touch on her waist bring her closer to her peak, pulling her higher, making her heart race faster. Hot, delicious pressure builds between her thighs. She loses herself to chasing it. Every nerve is on fire with anticipation and every sensation heightened. Hien's hands are tight on her hips. He slides his hand up the length of her torso to her breast and clutches her other hip against him. 
She comes undone at the touch. Sweet, consuming waves of pleasure course through her, drawing a string of breathless cries from her throat. Her back arches and her eyes flutter shut as she rides out her orgasm. 
A stray thought passes her mind, hoping no one hears her through the wall. She bites her lip to hush herself and looks down to see Hien's face locked in desperation. His hands clutch her hips like a vice, holding her flush against him, and soon he pants half-syllables of her name as his expression melts into ecstasy. 
Calantha collapses over him. His breath is hot on her neck. He rests his hands on her thighs with a shaky laugh. 
“You held on admirably,” she says, leaning her face against his. She kisses his temple.
He chuckles. “I had no choice. Imagine if I brought you here and failed to hold my own.”
Calantha rolls off of him, resting beside him on the mattress. “I thought you said we'd fill our time with conversation when you asked me to join you.”
“We are talking, are we not?” He grins. “Is this not a conversation?”
“We're also naked. And we've done very little talking so far.”
“Who is to say I didn't mean this as well,” he says. “I will admit, it wasn't far from my mind.”
She kisses his lips. They part for a brief moment to clean themselves. When they return to the mattress Calantha realizes she can no longer hear the rain on the roof. Hien rests his hands behind his head. The lantern flickers, casting shadows across their faces. 
Calantha settles next to him. “I do hope you've forgotten your problems,” she says. “Otherwise I've done a poor job.”
“They are quite forgotten, for the moment,” he says. He wraps an arm around her shoulders. “And yours? If not, we can always try again. We do have all night. You said so yourself.”
She laughs at the twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I'll let you know if they come back to haunt me. We should both get some sleep.”
"You're right,” he says. He brushes a strand of damp hair behind her ear. His green eyes are soft, full of a tenderness that takes her off guard. His smile is the warmest she's ever seen from him. She tries to remember a joke, a strange story, something she can say to keep from thinking too much of it. He presses a kiss to her forehead and she feels the remnants of stubborn cold in her heart begin to melt. 
Sun through the clouds. 
She can't bring herself to be angry at the thought. 
Calantha rests her head on his shoulder. I should go, she thinks. I never intended for this to happen. But in the soft light of the lantern, the warm afterglow and the comfort of his arms, returning to the solitude of her own bed is unthinkable. "Hien?”
“Hmm?” His fingers trace a slow pattern on her side. Another unexpected tenderness. It soothes her, draws her in closer. She curls into him, sliding her arm around his waist. She can't possibly tear herself away now.
“I know I said I'd stay until the rain stopped. And it has. But–I don't feel like returning to my own bed.”
His smile grows wider, somehow. “Then stay with me.”
He wraps his other arm over her, holding her against him. The gentle thump of his heartbeat soothes her, calming any last reservations in her mind. Her limbs feel leaden, drowsy. She closes her eyes. 
Whatever happens in the morning, he's willing to share this solace with her. And gods, she will let herself have it.
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Former Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, who was assassinated in July 2022. Inset: Unification Church founder Sun Myung Moon and his wife, Hak Ja Han Moon, in 1984.
SEPTEMBER 18, 2023
On the last morning of his life, Shinzo Abe arrived in the Japanese city of Nara, famous for its ancient pagodas and sacred deer. His destination was more prosaic: a broad urban intersection across from the city’s main train station, where he would be giving a speech to endorse a lawmaker running for reelection to the National Diet, Japan’s parliament. Abe had retired two years earlier, but because he was Japan’s longest-serving prime minister, his name carried enormous weight. The date was July 8, 2022.
In photos taken from the crowd, Abe—instantly recognizable by his wavy, swept-back hair; charcoal eyebrows; and folksy grin—can be seen stepping onto a makeshift podium at about 11:30 a.m., one hand clutching a microphone. A claque of supporters surrounds him. No one in the photos seems to notice the youngish-looking man about 20 feet behind Abe, dressed in a gray polo shirt and cargo pants, a black strap across his shoulder. Unlike everyone else, the man is not clapping.
Abe started to speak. Moments later, his remarks were interrupted by two loud reports, followed by a burst of white smoke. He collapsed to the ground. His security guards ran toward the man in the gray polo shirt, who held a homemade gun—two 16-inch metal pipes strapped together with black duct tape. The man made no effort to flee. The guards tackled him, sending his gun skittering across the pavement. Abe, shot in the neck, would be dead within hours.
At a Nara police station, the suspect—a 41-year-old named Tetsuya Yamagami—admitted to the shooting barely 30 minutes after pulling the trigger. He then offered a motive that sounded too outlandish to be true: He saw Abe as an ally of the Unification Church, a group better known as the Moonies—the cult founded in the 1950s by the Korean evangelist Reverend Sun Myung Moon. Yamagami said his life had been ruined when his mother gave the church all of the family’s money, leaving him and his siblings so poor that they often didn’t have enough to eat. His brother had committed suicide, and he himself had tried to.
“My prime target was the Unification Church’s top official, Hak Ja Han, not Abe,” he told the police, according to an account published in January in a newspaper called The Asahi Shimbun. He could not get to Han—Moon’s widow—so he shot Abe, who was “deeply connected” to the church, Yamagami said, just as Abe’s grandfather, also a prime minister and renowned political figure in Japan, had been.
Investigators looked into Yamagami’s wild-sounding claims and found, to their alarm, that they were true. After a quick huddle, the police appear to have decided that the Moonie connection was too sensitive to reveal, at least for the moment. It might even affect the outcome of the elections for the Upper House of the Diet, set to take place on July 10. At a press conference on the night of the assassination, a police official would say only that Yamagami had carried out the attack because he “harbored a grudge against a specific group and he assumed that Abe was linked to it.” When reporters clamored for details, the official said nothing.
After the election, the Unification Church confirmed press reports that Yamagami’s mother was a member, and the story quickly took off. The Moonies, it emerged, maintained a volunteer army of campaign workers who had long been a secret weapon not just for Abe but for many other politicians in his conservative Liberal Democratic Party (LDP), which remains in power under Prime Minister Fumio Kishida. Later that month, the Japanese tabloid Nikkan Gendai published a list of 111 members of parliament who had connections to the church. In early September 2022, the LDP announced that almost half of its 379 Diet members had admitted to some kind of contact with the Unification Church, whether that meant accepting campaign assistance or paying membership fees or attending church events. According to a survey by The Asahi Shimbun, 290 members of prefectural assemblies, as well as seven prefectural governors, also said they had church ties. The rising numbers exposed a scandal hiding in plain sight: A right-wing Korean cult had a near-umbilical connection to the political party that had governed Japan for most of the past 70 years.
The Japanese were outraged not just by the appearance of influence-peddling but by a galling hypocrisy. Abe was a fervent nationalist, eager to rebuild Japan’s global standing and proudly unapologetic for its imperial past. Now he and his party had been caught in a secretive electoral alliance with a cult that—it soon emerged—had been accused of preying on Japanese war guilt to squeeze billions of dollars from credulous followers.
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janetbrown711 · 1 year
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A Spiral into Darkness
Macaque loves Sun Wukong more than anything in the world, and doesn't take it well when he just leaves for heaven the first chance he gets.
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The Sun and the Moon– one brilliant, outstanding, garnering much attention and praise, the other a mere reflection only regarded by a careful few in the night.
Macaque liked that metaphor. He and Wukong had something unique– something special. They were different from the other monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain and while Macaque wasn’t exactly as old as his king, they still bonded over their differences. Plus, unlike a few of the other monkeys Sun Wukong seemed to like his ears, and especially liked picking out the fleas and bugs in his fur where others wouldn’t.
They fought demons together, trained together, saved monkeys together– though the Monkey King had never said it, Macaque often liked to think of himself as the secondary Monkey King, a figure just as great and powerful and equal.
He thought Wukong believed this too– especially with how often Macaque stayed in his pagoda and how Wukong always greeted him with cheerfulness and a cool rock he found sometimes too. It also helped that Macaque always knew how Wukong talked about him because of his many ears.
Praise, adoration, lust, and admiration of power.
Macaque was the king’s strongest warrior, his equal and opposite.
The Moon to his Sun.
“You know, you really would think they’d keep the underworld locked up a lot tighter,” Wukong boasted, picking something out of his teeth as he and Macaque walked back to Flower Fruit Mountain.
“As if there’s anything that could ever hold the two of us back, my liege,” Macaque teased with his tail. “Though I will say, you were subdued pretty easily– kind of shameful, isn’t it?”
Wukong rolled his eyes and flicked away Macaque’s tail. “It's your fault, I was resting waiting for you to return with the peaches, and yet you were gone and I was swept away. Shameful really, for a warrior so great to abandon his duty like that.”
“Oh I see– it’s my fault the ever venerable and great Sun Wukong decided he needed a little nap? I mean, I know you tend to laze about, but really– to allow you to be dragged to the underworld, tsk tsk,” Macaque shook his head. “You’d be so hopeless without me, bi bi.”
Wukong laughed. “Does that mean I can finally call attention to when I caught you snoring away when the Python Demon was wreaking havoc?”
“That was entirely your fault for keeping me awake for five whole nights, Sun Wukong, and you know this,” Macaque gave him a smirk.
“I am your king too, Macaque, and therefore never at fault,” Wukong caught sight of a flea on Macaque’s fur and plucked it out.
“Right, I almost forgot,” Macaque tsk-ed. “Careful peaches, if your head gets any bigger it won’t fit through the door.”
“Because you’re one to talk about pride,” Wukong sounded a little more annoyed than Macaque expected at that.
“Let’s just get home,” He resisted grumbling about it only a little. Wukong sighed, summoned his cloud, and the two of them flew off back to Flower Fruit Mountain at a much faster pace than just walking.
Macaque listened as they soared over mountains and volcanoes, heard some birds call and once they got close enough some chirps from monkeys.
It was something Macaque never really did and wasn’t fond of initiating, though sometimes Wukong would do it and he’d respond, but it wasn’t something he clung to. In general he didn’t cling to a lot of things except grooming and laying together and a lot of teasing.
Macaque nearly fell off the cloud when it came to a sudden jerk.
“Hey Peaches, watch the cargo,” He snapped, but Wukong silenced him by pulling out his staff.
“Someone’s here…” He said, not looking back, investigating the mountain, before separating the falls with his staff.
Wukong was correct, someone was there– a tall, old looking man with a beard that practically reached the floor and dressed in gold and white robes detailed with stars from the heavens. Macaque growled as he pulled out his own staff.
“Ah, Sun Wukong, you’re finally back. My name is Taibai Jinxing, I come from heaven to make you a proposition,” said the man. Wukong lowered his staff and hopped off the cloud while Macaque stayed in his defensive position.
“Gold Star of Venus, huh? Yeah I think I’ve heard of you– what’s the position?” Wukong put his staff all the way back in his ear.
Macaque scoffed to himself, “He isn’t actually thinking about taking this guy’s offer, right?”
Still, he watched carefully.
“That is for the Jade Emperor to decide, as he invited you to come and live there himself,” Taibai Jinxing gestured to the heavens.
The almighty monkey king laughed. “Took him long enough! Would’ve thought shooting laser beams through his house was enough, but if it takes breaking out of the underworld, then so be it.”
“Oh it was hardly just that, Sun Wukong. Come along, we can discuss all things with His Imperial Highness,” The deity began to levitate.
“Oh please, as if Wukong would leave this mountain paradise just to join a bunch of stuffy bureaucrats,” Macaque laughed to himself and shook his head before he noticed Wukong had already summoned his cloud once more.
“Wait, Wukong, you can’t just leave m– us-! What about the kingdom? The monkeys?” He tugged on his king’s sleeve.
Wukong looked at Macaque with an expression Macaque couldn’t read.
“Ah, surely you’re a bold enough warrior to care for them all. Also, I didn’t cross out just my name so maybe you can enlist the immortal monkeys to help you fight or something,” He swatted away his hand. “And besides, I know you already like to call yourself ‘king’. Perhaps this will be a chance to prove yourself to me, no?”
Macaque took a shaky step back.
“Fine,” He said, looking sharply into Wukong’s soft golden eyes.
“Knew you could do it,” Wukong patted his shoulder before turning to the heavenly figure. “Alright let’s go Taibai Jinxing.”
And then they were off.
And Macaque was alone in the pagoda.
Wukong didn’t even appear to look back.
And as Macaque listened, he didn’t so much as mutter his name…
Well then.
Macaque took an annoyed breath, running his fingers through his fur as he thought to himself.
Wukong was impulsive and distractible– surely he’d return within a week no doubt. This was just a vacation, a distraction from what really mattered and Wukong would be back soon enough. Besides, if Macaque did this right perhaps he too would be the official Monkey King and could finally force the inhabitants of the mountain to give him the respect he deserved.
Yes, yes– this wasn’t a betrayal, it was a short time away, a break, no different from when he’d go and hunt humans or prey on smaller demons.
This was a test, and Macaque was going to pass.
The Sun and Moon were equals in the celestial sphere.
.o0o.
Macaque ruled over Flower Fruit Mountain with an iron fist. Everyone was supposed to train from dawn till dusk all week days and on weekends they were to gather food for the upcoming week.
Unfortunately, the monkeys of Flower Fruit Mountain didn’t like that much, and basically started protesting en masse, and so Macaque said “fine we’ll see how much you like being kingless” and went and stayed in Wukong’s pagoda.
Nobody came to him.
Nobody groomed him.
Nobody shared their food with him.
Nope.
Instead, they all stayed downhill swinging on their peach trees and chirping the whole day long without a care in the world for how loud it could ring in all six of Macaque’s ears.
Not that he cared.
Not that it made him sometimes want to listen to the heavens, to see if Wukong was thinking of him as much as he thought of him–
Which wasn’t at all.
Macaque was supposed to prove himself– what was he doing moping like this.
When he called the Monkeys back up the mountain, a lot of them hesitated but he ordered with a reminder that it was Wukong himself who placed him here so a defiance of him was a defiance of Wukong, and so they eventually climbed on up.
He told them all he was going to be taking a leave to go and study the tao and other arts for himself, to work to better protect the rest of them.
And he did, using Wukong’s name and former alliances with demon kings to learn the art of shapeshifting, of invulnerability, and something he somewhat created on his own but started to perfect was the art of shadowplay.
It was an evolution of a light technique he learned while kind of sort of studying the tao, where he focused more on draining light than creating it, slowly able to melt whole bodies and objects through what he called shadow doors.
It did have one side effect though, turning his fur slowly dark and darker. Macaque didn’t care much about it, glamouring whenever he bothered returning to Flower Fruit Mountain, but even if he forgot no one brought it up when they brought him his peaches.
Sometimes he thought about hiding in the shadows in heaven– just to see what Wukong was up to. Macaque had apparently missed a day where he had gone back down and somehow managed to snag the title Great Sage Equal to Heaven.
As if that asshole needed more of an ego.
He wished he could’ve fought the Mighty Spirit God or Prince Nezha– these days he really felt like bashing in some heavenly skulls.
But no, apparently he had gone back and according to the other monkeys he hadn’t even said a word about Macaque or their arrangement where he was now their king.
Not that he cared. Wukong had better things, clearly.
And Macaque did too.
Like eating people, bashing in skulls and listening to the sounds of an empty pagoda as he was reminded over and over his body didn’t need sleep and didn’t like it without the soft touch of his Sun.
The Sun and The Moon– when one sets, another rises. Clearly the Sun has set into the Heavens and now it is the Moon’s turn to shine and earn the worship of others, and now that Macaque had much more power surely it would end much better than the previous time.
.o0o.
The monkeys certainly listened to him more this time, to the point where it felt like maybe if you squinted they could sort of count as an army. The immortal ones were useful as Wukong had mentioned before he disappeared, so that was good.
But again, Macaque couldn’t be bothered to just stay on the mountain, and so after about 15 years or so, he continued to venture out and test out his new powers of mirroring and disappearing, especially on nearby villages. He left the immortals in charge telling them to train the others and that the Great Sage’s pagoda was off limits under penalty of his and Wukong’s wrath (a lie, but he didn’t want them sniffing around there).
He ventured far and wide for many years then, picking fights with mountain gods and no-name demons until suddenly it seemed like earth was just… out of gods.
It was the strangest thing– every deity for miles and miles and miles and miles was just– gone. Hell– even a good amount of demons were in hiding now too. Macaque was thankfully able to bang on the door of none other than the Bull Demon King and he begrudgingly took him in for answers out of respect for their mutual friend.
“So– why exactly is everyone getting the hell out of dodge right now? Doesn’t make sense– I’ve been getting really good at my mirroring– I wanted to test it out on the whole eastern mountain range,” Macaque bemoaned as he removed his scarf and gave it to one of the king’s servants.
“I believe our mutual friend, the Great Sage, has been causing quite a stir in heaven, from what I’ve heard from my– sources… I hear he’s fighting a whole heavenly army right about now” He said, snapping and ordering a servant to bring them tea.
That only made Macaque more angry. When the tea came he stirred his spoon, staring at his ever changing reflection with disgust. “You know, Wukong makes it sound so easy to just break in and out of heavenly places.”
The Bull Demon King laughed. “He has truly become a formidable foe. I’ve heard now that he has become immortal at least five times now.”
“What?! That’s– that’s insanity,” Macaque slammed his arms on the table, garnering a huff of warning from his host.
“You do know we are talking about Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, no?” He said, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip despite it still bubbling in his cup.
Macaque huffed and crossed his arms.
“Wukong, do you think you’ll ever teach me what Sobodhi taught you?”
“What, the transformations? You have a method all your own for that, no Subhodi needed.”
“No, I mean immortality, so zyu. I want to live forever like you will.”
Wukong sat up and started to groom Macaque. “I don’t know. It’s nice to know I’ll always be able to protect myself and that no demon or celestial being can really cause me harm, but I don’t know why you’d need it, you are already practically indestructible.”
“But I want to live as long as you do, bi bi. I want to be able to fight by your side until the universe itself burns out and it will be just the two of us in the darkness.”
Wukong laughed a little. “There would be more than just the two of us, Macaque. Plenty of celestial beings and demons are immortal, but I suppose I see your point. I don’t think I’ll ever be as good a teacher as Subhodi but perhaps the next time I find a way to immortality I will share it with you.”
Macaque smiled. “Thank you, peaches.”
“I suppose we are,” He muttered.
The Bull Demon King sighed. “I would offer to spar with you, Friend Macaque, but I have business of my own to attend to– as I’m pretty sure you do too on account of Wukong supposedly leaving you in charge of his domain. In fact, you should probably be there helping him fight the heavenly armies before it’s too late and he’s destroyed them all and made himself the new Emperor of Heaven,” The enormous bull laughed at that last joke.
Macaque thought about it before nodding. “I suppose you are right, Bull Demon King. The tea was–” he glanced at his full, bubbling and steaming cup– “lovely, but I must be off to go defend Flower Fruit Mountain. Until we meet again,” He winked before standing and allowing himself to fall backward into a shadow that brought him a few miles from Flower Fruit Mountain.
He decided to let himself fly the rest of the way, imagining how bloody and intense the scene would be– Wukong against hundreds of thousands– perhaps millions of heavenly soldiers with the help of the monkeys he himself helped train (about 46 years ago). It made his cloud rush further and further until he was there and–
Nothing.
Sure there was plenty of celestial blood on the ground, and a few wounded monkeys gathering themselves, but there were no gods, no warriors, no emperors beheaded, and no Sun Wukong.
He landed on the blood stained grass, feeling it under his bare feet, and sat and listened to voices nearby.
“--That battle against the 36 thunder deities was nothing like it was with Erlang and his dog.”
“I heard his majesty fought Budha and won!”
“I bet he’s up in heaven right now making a throne next to– if not on top of the Jade Emperor’s throne.”
“Did you see his eyes? They’re redder than a ruby!”
“Who could focus on his eyes when Budha himself was here?!”
“I hope he’ll come back soon, I want to hear more tales of heaven.”
Hmph.
So Wukong fought with heaven not just once but twice in his absence and not once sent for him.
How wonderful and gracious his precious Sun Wukong was.
No matter, he would just go to the pagoda and ask him about it himself.
He quickly fell into a shadow once more and appeared right outside his and Wukong’s home– which surprisingly actually seemed untouched.
“Peaches, you home?” He called out.
No response.
“Man, and here I thought The Great Sage Equal to Heaven didn’t need to rest after battles, no he’s too strong, even when he was just Shi Hou,” He grinned, examining each room as he passed, slowly becoming more and more confused the more they continuously proved themself to be empty.
“Wukong?” Macaque was getting nervous. He gripped iron rails with a death grip and summoned his staff too for extra measure (though he didn’t know what exactly he planned to do with it).
Each room felt more empty than the next, as it was just as he had left it decades ago, minus shards of glass and bits of evidence of the great heavenly battle. When he got to their bedroom it too was empty, and that was when Macaque fully realized he had gone without telling him once again.
Great.
Just great.
Peachy, even.
Forgotten again, but what did Macaque care? He never needed that asshole, and neither did anyone else on this goddamn mountain.
He gathered his things from their shared room in a hurry, packing it all into a brown sac he tied sloppily before heading out, surprised to be greeted by a crowd of monkeys outside.
“Macaque! Where have you been?!”
“What happened to your fur?”
“Wait, that’s Liu Er Mihou?”
“He has six ears doesn’t he?”
“You missed two battles with heaven-!”
“Monkey King was really mad you took his place but left–”
“We can’t find him! Do you know where he is?”
Too many words were being thrown at his face to care about, so Macaque just shrugged up his sack again and walked through the crowd, ignoring the fact they started to follow with their persistent questions, glamoring his ears away.
“Where are you going?”
“Are you going to find him?”
“Yeah! Are you gonna find him?”
“I’m not going to find Wukong!” Macaque snapped, turning to face the startled crowd. “I’m leaving and don’t expect me to come back.”
A few of the elder and immortal monkeys rolled their eyes while the younger looked at him in confusion.
“W-well who will look for our King?” one brave monkey spoke up.
“I don’t care, and honestly neither should any of you,” He spat, causing some of them to gasp. “Wukong clearly doesn’t give a shit– he didn’t need to fight here and yet he used many of you as collateral damage in his foolish attempts to claim glory for himself. He likely has just run off again to abandon the real workers, the true warriors of this mountain. If you have any self respect left, leave this mountain or at least abandon hope in Sun Wukong because he won’t be back for a very, very long time and even if he does, he sure won’t be thankful.”
Silence spread over the crowd as everyone exchanged glances, questioning his honesty. Macaque stood his ground with a smirk.
“Well, I know I won’t leave. Wukong has always protected us, and he’s a far better leader than you’ve ever been! All you’ve done is run off and when you return you demand all of us to be at your beck and call! Frankly, I’m glad to be rid of you,” A particularly tall monkey– ah yes, one of the immortals– said. Macaque rolled his eyes.
“Don’t come looking for me when another fifty years pass and your precious king is nowhere to be found,” He waved, summoning a shadow door.
“Don’t worry, we won’t.”
Macaque huffed and fell through.
The King was the Sun and the Warrior the Moon; one rose, another fell, neither needed. The sun could shine on its own after all, he didn’t need anyone else or any other goddamned stars– he was selfish and an egomaniac. The Moon was fine on it’s own, it didn’t need the sun, so what if it didn’t shine without it– the moon would be there anyways.
.o0o.
He didn’t know where exactly he was when he left the shadow realm– he didn’t really have a place in mind. He had no idea where Wukong was and therefore was unsure of where he could avoid him. He pondered crashing at a demon king’s place, but something told Macaque he needed to find his own place.
He decided to just kind of fuck around for awhile, transforming in to various animals, fighting and killing and eatting a villager here and there or a weary traveller, all sorts of things.
Time passed in a great illusion. He stopped keeping track of the passing days and weeks, eventual months and days and years– something he knew happened to immortals and the “cannot die unless killed” group eventually but when he noticed it it struck him as odd– especially because it meant he now had no idea how mad he should precisely be at Wukong for not looking for him.
He caught glimpses of signs of change when he would wander in the once small village now a bustling civilization that wasn’t too far from Flower Fruit Mountain Macaque often returned to for no real reason. He’d return every once in a while and it turned from a few small homes to places with plazas and bathhouses and elaborate gardens and festivals he’d never heard of before.
That meant centuries were passing.
Well good. It meant he was keeping up without Wukong– he was coping greatly. He had mastered his art of shapeshifting, puppetry and all other shadow tricks. It had turned all his fur to a pitch black now, but he didn’t miss the old pale colors– he blended in much better now and was able to kill much more efficiently.
Yes, Macaque had truly become a thing of terror.
HIs shapeshifting, puppetry and manipulation skills had proved most advantageous when it came to his hunt. He was able to strike and kill and draw blood with such swiftness he knew even Wukong didn’t have.
He now had a name– a reputation– a bedtime story you told children and legends of his mimicry and his sharp fangs and his powerful hearing. He even saw some of the art made of him– bloody eyes and teeth half clouded in shadow, the other half in the appearance of another villager.
This suited him just fine.
To be feared was better than to be loved anyways.
People feared the night and the moon and shadows with it. They worshiped and gossiped about the Sun and his whereabouts, about how he personally fought with almost every single deity in the celestial sphere and must either be the new emperor or demolished entirely, or perhaps is somewhere else being punished for his many crimes.
The Moon didn’t care for what the Sun did anyway– it was better if they were gone anyway, regardless of the light it still pulled the tide and released wolves and could do plenty in its own right.
.o0o.
Over five hundred years passed.
Macaque did make a place of his own, a place far out west– a pagoda of darkness, of shadows and whispers and of insanity for those unprepared to go within. A hall of mirrors, a theater for shadow puppets, and plenty of space for those foolish enough to go inside to wander before they realize they’re trapped with the legendary six eared Macaque, and nobody survived that.
However, while out and about getting some nice fresh air, Macaque heard a voice like nails on a chalkboard.
Sun Wukong.
Burning hatred consumed his soul as he pondered just leaping down upon him and tearing him to shreds, when he noticed he was with a group, and a rather odd one at that.
A tall, burly ocean demon towered over most of the group, his skin a greenish-blue like of the ponds and rivers by flower fruit mountain. There was a very angry pig demon, wielding a rake and looking pretty pissed at– yes, there was Wukong. He was wearing strange clothes with a curious circlet on his head. There was also a rather mighty looking white horse with some old monk– wait a minute…
Macaque squinted and used shadows to get a little closer to the bickering group to see what was up and– holy fucking shit– it was the reincarnation of Golden Cicada with–
Why the fuck was he with Wukong??? Then again, it seemed like it wasn’t lasting, as everyone was pretty pissed at him. The monk recited a sutra, which caused Wukong to wither and cry out in agony.
Now that brought a smile to Macaque’s face.
“Gah–! After all this time?! Master, I-i have been nothing but loyal a-and we have been through so much now– Why are you still doing this?!” Wukong cried out.
Wukong a slave? Now that was something Macaque needed to see.
“Loyal?! You’ve abandoned our master and mission about fifty times so far! Master, let’s banish Wukong again. We are so close, we don’t need his flimsy morals to bring an end to the pilgrimage now,” The pig man spoke.
“Flimsy?! Master, surely you know I only do what I can to protect you and this mission, please don’t do this again– we are so close, after all.”
“Wukong…” The monk took a deep breath. “You killed a mortal– a human. You knew from the very beginning such things wouldn’t be allowed, it goes against everything this pilgrimage stands for.”
“Master, spare Brother Wukong, it was the heat of the moment– a relapse, even. They were bandits and they were attempting to kill us, after all.” The big one spoke next.
Brother? Psh, Sun Wukong was brothers to no one.
“You cannot destroy an entire village like that though, Sun Wukong, you know this. There is to be trial, a fair judgment– you cannot dictate whatever you desire just because you’re powerful enough to never face the consequences,” The monk clutched his staff tightly.
The sutra’s effects must’ve worn off as Wukong stood.
“Then I suppose you’re going to give me the consequences again, despite the tightening spell being plenty painful already?”
The monk glanced at his other disciples. The tall one stood his ground to defend Wukong, but the pig man still seemed huffy.
“I am just saying Friar Sand, if it were either of us we would certainly be banished already,” The pig man muttered under his breath but of course Macaque heard it perfectly.
“I… I’m sorry, Sun Wukong, but… but we are almost at the scripture and I… I will not sacrifice any of my morals now.”
“Master, I am begging for you to consider otherwise, please!”
Wukong was now on his knees willingly.
“Oh Sun Wukong, what a husk you’ve become,” Macaque smiled to himself.
“I am sorry, Pilgrim Sun, but as the Great Tang Monk and the leader of this journey I am banishing you from this group once again.”
Wukong stood slowly.
“So be it then.”
It was then Macaque got a glimpse of those red eyes he had only heard about in rumor– and they were certainly mighty and fierce. Perhaps that’s why the monk doesn’t seem to trust him.
Wukong summoned his familiar golden cloud, tears in his eyes.
“For your own sake, I hope you come to your senses soon, or that you will remain safe for the rest of the journey.” He said bitterly before looking at the tall one.
“Thank you for always fighting for me, Friar Sand, I will never forget your kindness.” He said, before immediately flying away.
The remaining group members stood around for a while, before heading more westward and that was when Macaque started to form a plan.
It was time for the Moon to rise again.
.o0o.
Macaque stalked the pilgrims from the shadows, waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Thankfully, the Great Tang Monk was hungry, and asked his pilgrims to go for food while he stayed by the campfire. Of course they obeyed (the idiots) and that was when Macaque got behind him, summoned his staff, and gave him a proper whack on the head, knocking him clean out.
He pondered eating the monk for a moment, but he cared more about his revenge against Wukong than he did about immortality now. He then summoned a great sack and stole all of their supplies, save for the ones that Sand and Pig guy had.
He made sure in particular to snatch the travel receipt so their journey would certainly fail– whatever it was. He made sure to make it clear that it was all the work of Sun Wukong, going so far as to transform into him to leave the perfect tracks behind, before he leapt into the shadows and disappeared to Flower Fruit Mountain.
… The place had a much weirder vibe than he recalled, but it had been over five hundred years, so who really knows. He went to a very public spot to wait for one or both of the Pilgrim’s arrivals. He ordered all monkeys away with a harsh snap that made all of them instantly abandon him, though he noticed looks of judgement and curiosity from the same goddamned immortal ones that were still fucking here for some goddamn reason.
He waited alone for many days, before the tall pilgrim– Sandy or something– arrived.
“Brother Monkey! There you are, I’ve been searching far and wide with many, many questions– why would you take our things? I know you are upset, as am I, but you said you wished us safety on our journey and it’s– well, it’s all rather confusing.”
“Confusing?” Macaque chuckled. “What’s confusing? I don’t care about you three– er, four if I’m counting the horse.”
“If you are counting the horse–? Brother Monkey, what has gotten into you, I beg for you to answer truthfully,” The demon seemed genuinely heartbroken.
“I don’t care, Friar Sand. All you people have done is toss me aside and you know what? I have decided that I am powerful enough to finish this all on my own anyways– you all can just crawl back into whatever hellhole you crawled out from. I will claim the glory for myself.”
The taller demon shook his head. “Brother, you know as well as I Buddha will not just hand you the scripture, they must be given to the chosen seeker– our master.”
“Oh please, I’m well aware, and in fact, already have a plan,” Macaque grinned, creating perfect clones of all other members of the group, except much quieter.
“Brother, I cannot allow you to do this,” Friar Sand summoned a trident.
Macaque laughed.
“I’d like to see you try,” he grinned, falling backward into a shadow while the clones attacked the blue demon.
Macaque watched from high above in a tree as the pilgrim fought and struggled, but by some miracle he managed to destroy the clone of himself.
“Wukong! Come out here and face me!” He shouted, pushing back an attack from the clone of the monk.
“See, I would buddy, but… I really don’t give a shit,” Macaque shadow traveled behind him, disappearing as fast as he had come though so the pilgrim couldn’t land a hit.
“Gah– I see you’ve truly fallen back onto your path of darkness then. Well– I-i–” The pilgrim’s face lit up at a thought, which made Macaque angry, but he quickly forgot that when he retreated entirely.
After that, he decided a take a stroll through the peach gardens still in the form of the Monkey King, eating the heavenly* fruits with a certain fondness.
*a metaphorical heavenly taste, of course
However, in no less than a couple hours he heard someone arriving at the mountain– someone familiar–
Wukong.
Macaque instantly shadow traveled closeby. “Friar Sand, I see you’ve returned and– who is this imposter you are with?!”
“An imposter? HA! Anyone could see that disguise of yours any day– whoever you are,” Wukong glared at him, summoning his staff.
“I hope you’ve prayed to even a sliver as skilled as I am,” Macaque grinned, summoning his own.
“Bah!” Wukong instantly went in for the attack.
The battle was great and climatic– mountains were destroyed, towns torn apart as Macaque purposefully tried to direct him into them, but Wukong forced him higher and higher into the clouds. They exchanged very little conversation, as Macaque just tried to enjoy seeing the Great Sun Wukong, Stone Monkey King with a heart of similar rock bleed.
Wukong punched and whacked him with his staff, and Macaque did similarly, slightly impressed but then overwhelmingly proud and cocky of his perfected mimicry– not a single person could tell who was who.
“Wukong! Guanyin– remember!”
Macaque and Wukong nodded, much to Wukong’s annoyance, as now both of them focused on dragging the other even more upward until eventually they were at the bodhisattva’s island.
“Ah, Sha Wujing, Sun Wukong and Sun Wu–…kong…” Guanyin stared at the identical monkeys in disbelief.
Macaque gasped. “I cannot believe– there is no creature on earth who could mimic so excellently as to blind a bodhisattva before! My lady, please, I beg of you to strike down the false Wukong, he seeks to cause you and the pilgrimage harm,” he got onto his knees.
“No-! Guanyin, it is he who is the fake! I have been at your side for many hours– many earth days, I beg of you to understand I would never steal the pilgrim’s things, it is unlike me!”
“Guanyin, do not listen to him. We do not know how well his mimicry skills work– for all we know he summoned a hair clone to do all that work for him while he was distracting you!” Macaque swore.
“My dear Sun Wukong, I do hope you’ll forgive me for what I’m about to test,” Guanyin took a deep breath before reciting the tightening spell, causing Wukong and Macaque (in fake, of course) to fall over and cry in agony. Guanyin immediately stopped at both of their responses.
“That’s– That’s impossible! There’s only one fillet, right my lady?” Friar Sand asked.
“That is correct, and only one sutra…” Quanyin looked genuinely disturbed as Macaque and Wukong gained their composure.
“You dastardly fiend, if we were not in such sacred grounds I would tear you limb from limb,” Wukong growled.
“I feel very much the same,” Macaque growled back.
“Wukong, Friar Sand– take the imposter to the celestial realm, perhaps those who know Wukong from the many battles in heaven will know him by his technique,” She ordered the three of them.
“Gladly, my lady,” Macaque grinned, excited to show off his skill once more, grabbing Wukong’s arm who pushed away to try and grab his before Sandy grabbed both of them and separated them onto different arms before bowing to Guanyin and heading to the celestial realm.
Once at the gates, the blue demon tried to seek a way in, but both Wukong and Macaque didn’t have the patience, figuring the best way to get an audience was to simply break in, and there they would perhaps be able to tell the imposter.
The pair fought all the way to the Jade emperor’s throne, where Wukong and the sand guy explained the situation, with Macaque budding in to interrupt his sentences. The Jade emperor grew nervous at the mention of Guanyin not being able to tell them apart, and asked the armies of heaven if her theory proved true, but none of them knew if one or the other was the imposter.
The emperor ordered for a mirror of truth to be brought to the room, but alas, Macaque was so powerful it fooled even that.
Now that made Wukong furious (totally as well as Macaque because he was totally the true Wukong).
Wukong leapt at Macaque, instantly punching him through the jade palace, all the way through the celestial sphere and back down to earth. Macaque laughed and fought back just as vigorously.
“Heaven, don’t you see how consumed with rage this one is? Surely I’ve become more than this– I’ve learned many a great thing on the pilgrimage and this imposter surely has learned nothing,” He glared, a light flashing in his eyes to Wukong.
The flash made Wukong hesitate a moment, and that was when Macaque took his chance and used his staff to send Wukong crashing down to the earth, crashing in a gigantic crater.
“Pilgrim Sun– what is going on– where is Friar Sand– what the– why are there two? Why are you fighting?! Stay back!” The great Tang monk pointed his staff at the two of them as Macaque floated down gently.
“Master,” Macaque went on his knees. “I have returned to you to apologize, for this false Wukong here has taken your supplies and halted the journey, something I never once desired to happen,” he then summoned the sack of their things and placed it humbly before the monk.
“Don’t– don’t listen, Master,” Monkey struggled to get up, coughing from the dust and debris. “He is the liar– he knows nothing of what he speaks about,” he held his side and walked over.
“Woah– there’s two of them now?!” The pig pilgrim joined the conversation. “That can’t be good.”
“Yes, apparently,” The monk sighed, before getting an idea, reciting the tightening sutra just as Guanyin had, causing very similar results, causing an embarrassingly fast halt.
“I apologize, Pilgrim Sun, I-i thought that would work…”
“You always do,” Wukong muttered, standing up. Macaque just scoffed.
After that, none other than Guanyin showed up again.
“Apologies for my lateness, but I have a suggestion– how about we go to the underworld and check the ledgers of the dead– perhaps they will be able to find the imposter’s name in their books,” She suggested.
Upon agreeing, Wukong and Macaque fought their way down to the underworld, where Quanyin and the other pilgrims explained the situation.
They searched far and wide across all ledgers, but Macaque’s name wasn’t in any of them.
Hm… Well that was interesting, he supposed.
“Well then– if neither the Tang Monk nor the armies of heaven nor Guanyin nor the Jade Emperor are able to tell the false Wukong from the truth then I suppose our only remaining choice is Buddha himself.
Uh oh.
“An excellent idea,” he grinned at Wukong for assurances.
Quickly, the pilgrims and Guanyin headed westward with great pace, arriving in what felt like mere seconds.
“Man– why’d we have do all that walking if we could’ve just done this the whole time,” The pigman grumbled upon their arrival, receiving a look from the Tang Monk.
Upon their entrance, Macaque could practically feel the Buddha’s eyes scorching into his soul, but he kept his composure.
After all, he had already fooled countless gods, what was one enlightened bozo to the rulers of the heavens and underworld?!
“Guanyin, my dear friend, it is good to see you, as well as you Sun Wukong.” The Buddha smiled kindly at Wukong.
Fuck.
“Oh Enlightened One, it is an honor to be in your presence,” The monk and his disciples, as well as Guanyin bowed, though Macaque didn’t until Wukong started to as well.
“Ah, Tang Sanzang, I’ve been expecting you. However, we must deal with this fake Sun Wukong first.”
“O-of course, your enlightened-ness,” The monk bowed even more.
“Bodhisattva, do you know of the Four Spiritual Primates?” Buddha asked Guanyin.
“I do. There is the stone monkey Sun Wukong, the Red Red-Buttocked Baboon, The Bare-Armed Gibbon, and lastly the Six Eared Macaque,” She recalled.
Fuck.
“You remember quite correctly, Guanyin. These four are often referred to as the Four Monkeys of Havoc, and it is not hard to see why based on our very own Wukong, is it not?” Buddha teased Wukong, who blushed a little.
“The Stone Monkey has powers over form and shape, he recognizes the seasons, discerns the advantages of earth, and is able to alter the course of planets and stars. The Red-Buttocked Horse Monkey has knowledge of yin and yang, understands the affairs of humans, is adept in its daily life and is able to avoid death and lengthen its life as they so please. Tongbi Gibbon can seize the Sun and Moon, shorten a thousand mountains, distinguish the auspicious from the inauspicious, and manipulate planets and stars. And the Six Eared Macaque?”
Buddha looked right at him.
Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck–
“The Six Eared Macaque can hear for thousands of miles, discernment of fundamental principles, knowledge of past and future, and a comprehension of all things. On top of that though, he has gone and gained further abilities, able to melt into shadows and create perfect copies of those he witnesses and knows all about.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to the pair.
“Our imposter is none other than the macaque, and he will attempt to flee very, very soon,” He gestured towards Macaque.
And his disguise was instantly gone.
Fuck.
“Macaque,” Wukong growled, slowly going into a fighting stance.
Macaque started to panic– he could feel everyone closing in around him, and so slipped through a shadow, far, far away, but Wukong managed to somehow follow him through it, and when they appeared on the other side in a forest, Wukong immediately began attacking with even more power and fury that before.
“Haha-! Look who’s finally not holding back after all,” Macaque tried to keep his composure as he ran for dear life.
“I’m not playing any more games, Macaque. You abandoned your post, you abandoned your family, and then you attacked the pilgrims– for that you will pay with your life,” Wukong picked up a tree and threw it at Macaque, who narrowly avoided it by transforming into a snake and back into his regular form again.
“Oh you’re one to talk of abandonment Wukong-! You didn’t even hesitate to go to heaven when you were offered– you thought nothing of the monkeys until I said something,” Macaque growled, shadow traveling right behind him attempting a quick attack, but Wukong sensed it and blocked.
“I returned three times, Macaque, and you were gone every time. I gave you a task– to prove yourself worthy of something I knew you always wanted and yet you failed me repeatedly!” Wukong shouted, kicking him down, but Macaque just went through a shadow door again and went high in a tree.
“You are not innocent in this, Wukong. You abandoned me for my own pursuits so I sought companionship and power elsewhere, can you really blame me?” He snarled.
Wukong zipped up the tree with inhumane speed. “I returned and you left the mountain in a state of collapse and ruin. Thousands died when they were supposed to be under your care, Macaque. You said you would care so I did not worry, but you failed me,” he spat quietly.
Macaque attempted to strike him with his staff but was blocked. “Wukong, I loved you more than anything else in the world and yet you left for a place you hated and immediately began to destroy! How low you must have thought of me–!” Macaque kicked him, but Wukong turned into a bird and flew to a higher branch before jumping down with his staff for a head strike Macaque barely blocked in time.
“Macaque, we were not meant to be– especially not as we were. I have grown over the past five hundred years– I have found a new family. I had thought perhaps you too would change as you cared for Flower Fruit Mountain but the years have only made you bitter, immature and cruel,” The stone Monkey said calmly as Macaque stepped back to breathe.
“You cannot say that you don’t love me Wukong. You swore you’d always– this is no different from a sparring match of our past-!”
“Macaque, we fought constantly. Everything was a competition– you always wanted to prove you were better than me and attempted to take my place,” Wukong sighed. “We were not meant to be– all we do is hurt one another.”
“All I wanted was to be your equal, peaches– to sit by your side as we burned the whole world down together–!” Macaque growled as he went back into the fight.
“The world is too good to be destroyed– I see that now Macaque–! And perhaps if you were not so stuck in the past you could see that too,” Wukong huffed, pulling some hairs and summoning an army of clones, which Macaque matched with his own.
“If I am stuck in the past it is because you left me there–! I am the monster of your own creation! I am your darkness, your wickedness you wished so hard to forget, but I’m still here! And I will always be here, waiting and itching you on until you finally learn to stop fucking hiding!!!” Macaque shouted, unsure of which was the right Wukong now.
“I apologize for leaving, Macaque, but this bitterness is something you are choosing. It has been over five hundred years– there are many others who could have filled my void, Macaque, and yet you chose hatred and wickedness instead,” The true Wukong evaporated a Macaque clone before glaring at him.
“I didn’t want anyone else–! I wanted you!” Macaque’s voice cracked at that.
Wukong sighed.
“I was foolish when I was young, Macaque. I did abandon everyone, and you should not want a person who did something like that to you,” Wukong said, stopping the clone army and stepping towards Macaque.
Macaque stopped him too, though he didn’t realize it.
“B-but you swore–”
“And I lied about a thousand things. Macaque, you must recognize this is not healthy for either of us. You must move on or pay for your crimes,” The King summoned his staff. “I have a new purpose now– a new family, as I said.”
“Some family– a monk who doesn’t hesitate to torture you with migraines because that Pig guy eggs him on,” Macaque scoffed.
“I’ve broken many rules, Macaque. I’ve a reputation of chaos and it doesn't help when shapeshifters like you make me look worse than I’ve already been,” Wukong glared.
“I don’t have time for further argument, Macaque. Will you choose moving on, or punishment?” He pointed his staff.
Macaque glared. “You can’t.”
“You’re right, I can’t,” Wukong sighed, before smirking and pointing behind. “But he can.”
Macaque barely had any time before he realized he had been talking to a clone and the real Wukong hurled his staff and—
Right through the chest, Macaque was impaled.
And he was in the underworld, locked tightly in chains.
The Sun had risen again, after banishing the Moon.
.o0o.
Time in the afterlife wasn’t something anybody bothered to keep track of, so Macaque couldn’t tell if he’d been dead for an hour or centuries, but when he started hearing whispers in a far off corner of his prison, he wondered if it was possible for the dead to go insane.
The whisper didn’t stop though, it kept nagging his name and attempting to grow louder and louder.
“Look lady– could you can it?? We’re dead, no chit chatting will change that,” He said, crossing his arms, his chains clinging.
The whisper laughed.
“Liu Er Mihou… I am no mere ‘lady’-- I am someone very, very powerful,” She chuckled. “I am the Lady Bone Demon, and I’ve come to make you a proposition.”
Suddenly the woman appeared in his cell– with long and flowing black hair and a dress of pure white. She would’ve looked like any other spirit, if it weren’t for a skeletal structure’s faint glow under her skin.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He rolled his eyes– he was fed up with demons and spirits or whatever the fuck.
“I want to bring you back to the mortal realm and free you of your chains,” She smiled almost too sweetly. All six of Macaque’s ears perked up.
“I’m… listening…” he said.
She laughed.
“You and I both know how wretched the world is– we could start over with you and Sun Wukong reunited and ruling planets and stars together as you always wanted as we reshape earth to become what we deem it should be,” She said, getting closer.
The name of his ex caused a chill down his spine.
“I guess you’re right, but how exactly are you supposed to free me if you’re also down here?” Macaque asked.
The lady patted his head. “I am not entirely dead as you are. I am merely trapped, unable to fully wake until somebody– you will set me free and help me achieve equilibrium.”
“So… to be clear… you only have powers over life and death down here?” Macaque asked.
“Yes, I am unable to reach my full potential without a host and without being freed, though my manipulation can grow if you follow my instruction,” She explained.
“Then you won’t be able to catch me if I run,” Macaque grinned.
“That sounds like a deal, Lady Bone Demon– you have my word, I will help you escape your curse if you bring me back to life,” he offered his chained hand.
“Then it is agreed,” The Lady Bone Demon smiled, her hand lighting with a blue flame that was disturbingly cold to the touch– to the point it felt like frostbite more than of flames, but as soon as that was done, Macaque blinked and he was…
Back.
He was…
Alive.
He reached into his pocket and found a little communication thingy, no doubt courtesy of the demoness.
It lit up with instruction, and he noticed a key in the ground with a pattern unlike anything he’d ever seen.
He tossed the communicator to the ground and headed east.
He didn’t care for her– he wanted revenge on that bastard who left and killed him.
No matter what it would take, he was going to get back on him, to make him feel an inkling of pain and sorrow he caused him.
He didn’t know if any of his stupid family was alive, but if they were then those would be his target.
He was going to destroy Wukong’s family one by one by one until it was him all alone and then Macaque would make him pay more than he ever had before.
The Sun could not stay up forever, and it looked like an Eclipse was on the horizon.
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jjoneswriting · 10 months
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Find the Word Tag
I was tagged by @indigowriting to find sing, around, lack, and borrow.
I haven't done a heck of a lot of writing since the last tag game I did so I went back to Over the Dragon's Gate for these.
I found song (close enough):
“Where are your parents?” He couldn’t remember. He had fragments of memories now that he’d rediscovered his human shape—words and concepts he’d forgotten as a fish—but there was an empty space in his chest, near his heart, where other memories should have been. All he had left of his family was the faint echo of his mother’s voice, the song from his dreams. He looked away.
around
The moon was out the next night when fingers broke the surface of his pond and wiggled around. “Come out, come out, fishie boy!” a voice called from above, distorted through the water.
lack
He was swimming in idle circles, just after the sun had gone down, when he heard footsteps on the garden path. Something about them sounded familiar. Almost unconsciously, Treya rose closer to the surface. This person was smaller than the man who owned the garden. They lacked the easy grace of the woman who wandered the garden at night, and her hollow laughter. Slowly at first, but then with determined steps, they walked to the center of the bridge and sat down cross-legged there, staring into the pond.
borrow
He continued drawing other favorite memories. Reading together in the pagoda. Staging a multi-night adventure for their pirate and knight figures. Eli untangling the knots from his hair. Making and racing origami boats together. He drew until he ran out of paper and had to borrow more to illustrate and write the final scene in the library.
I'll tag @sam-glade, @sarahlizziewrites, @snehithiye, and anyone else who wants to to jump in on the words jump, eat, live, and go.
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fem-blade-adept · 1 year
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Ok, so Lyria’s is a very long story. Very lore heavy because all of this is intertwined with her origin. It’s chunky, but I’m very proud of it and I hope you like it. @ebevkisk
Sylvan Bravery
Cor Varias carried a wide spectrum of creatures and societies. This was just as much a gift as it was a curse. Greed, thirst for power, and ego was an even more brutal mistress than most people knew. Thankfully, the Carnelian Senate, a group of the leaders composed of the main cities of Cor Varias, helped make decisions as well as allow the voices of the general population.
That, however, did not stop the higher classes from attempting to run the world.
In the royal city of Pelevair, the world’s richest and most decisively lucky people mingled in a city crafted out of ivory and marble. Pelevair once was the seat of the Druids and those that spoke for the natural world, but they traveled east once they discovered that the people were descending into a state of greed, but there were still consecrated locations that lingered in the Pearlescent City, namely the Senate Pagoda and the Tree of Veloria. Both were named neutral ground and effectively not part of the city. Several Druids and rangers stayed to keep the peace, but corruption ran rampant.
And the Peregrine family was no different.
Ambassador of the city to the Senate, Orryn Peregrine, and her husband, Geltir, both elves of the highest order loved nothing more than perfect order in their household. Stoic and iron faced, they were richer than most people knew. They also had a daughter.
Lyria was a faunus. Cor Varias, in its thousands of years of growth and development, had not only become diverse, but even humanoid species had become intermingled with a certain genetic mutation. Veloria, Goddess of Nature, the deep forests, and spiders, presented a gift among the Druids back when the Druids had helped curb the Disparity. This mutation allowed for a distinct animalistic advantage among its people as those with the gift had one or two traits of one of Veloria’s beloved menagerie of creatures. Though they were revered in the past, it definitely did not stay that way.
Lyria, through complicated family dynamics, was born a snow fox faunus. As she popped out, her white ears immediately earned a distaste from her parents, especially her father. Their status would dwindle if the world knew that their own child was a bastard, so she spent her life in her own house, learning to be a housewife and a model citizen.
She did her best to be perfect, but every day was worse than the last. The only walls she’d ever known were those of her house and, every day, she stared out at the trees that sat off in the horizon, wishing she could feel the grass between her toes and the wind on her skin, but every day, her house became more of a prison and she became more and more miserable with each moment.
When she turned 18, her parents arranged her marriage to an heir to the Port of Desriel on the southern side of the island. In order to finalize the proceedings, Lyria had to be taken to meet her future husband. It would be a several day trip and she’d have to be present to meet her future spouse.
“Now, darling, no speaking unless you’re spoken to. This is very important for you and your parents, so do as you're told and this will all go swimmingly.”
As they began the long trek through the snow and ice in the town cars they owned, the Peregrines remained blissfully unaware of what the celestial bodies had in store for their voyage.
Now, the planet of Cor Varias has two suns. Velor and Multaea were a yellow and a black sun that rotated just as much as Cor Varias did around them though much faster. Velor, the yellow sun burned with severe intensity, but it was tempered by the lack of heat that Multaea emanated. This is what created the seasons. Winter came whenever Multaea became the closest sun to Cor Varias.
Cor Varias also has two moons. Deias was a gorgeous navy to luminescent cerulean moon that changed depending on the day and season and Felgor was a deep yet ominous shade of orange, and though the black sun was just that, it still created an foreboding and deep orangish tint to the world during a Feltaean Eclipse.
Many theories were argued and debated by world philosophers since the world had lived with these celestial bodies since they had been around for thousands and thousands of years. Way past the survival of any original records. However, Cor Varias also intrinsically carried magic. No one was prepared for what the seasons brought.
As the town car entered the Forest of Somnulis as they headed on their way, Lyria was entranced by the glow of the orange glow. Lyria only ever saw her castle grounds and it really wasn’t much to look at once you’d seen it a million times. It was the coldest night of the year, and an Eclipse at that which made it all the more difficult to see, but the forest still had an eerie grace to it.
As they trundled on, a noise came out of the forest. Almost like the monsters she imagined when reading the stories at home.
“Just the elk in the forest. Push on.” Her father said. The chauffeur nodded and continued onwards.
Out of nowhere, massive snapping sounds echoed. A massive deer crashed through the underbrush. Glowing green eyes, muscular, angry as all hell, and with razor sharp teeth. Lyria gasped. Everything she’d ever read about deer told her that deer were harmless. Right?
Its antlers were massive and sharp as swords as its head thrashed about in terrible agony and hatred as it turned and rushed the vehicle. Her parents screamed as the deer rammed the car, the antlers piercing the car’s steel and glass with ease. Lyria, for a second, didn’t feel anything until she looked down to see the antler piercing her gut. Falling into shock, she felt her body go limp as the deer yanked its antlers out of the car, pulling her with it and rushing deeper into the forest. She could hear her parents yelling after her but there was nothing she could do. Just sit and wait for death. As she fell unconscious, she could feel her fingers freezing as the frostbite set in slowly as she waited, limp and lost.
Lyria woke up to the sound of the roaring fire. Her limbs felt warm, but her body felt incredibly sore. Stiff and weak, she tried to sit up.
“No, no no, hun. You need to lay down. You’re gonna open your wounds again. I tried to sew and heal you the best I could, but I can only do so much.” A voice said somewhere to her left. Feminine in nature, but with a much deeper timbre and gentler than anyone she’d ever known.
As Lyria laid back down, she realized the sun was coming up. Light was hitting the sky which meant she’d been out all night. She felt around and felt a very deep gash in her stomach. Checking her face, she found a deep cut on her eyebrow and her lip had been split open.
“How am I alive?” Lyria said, still attempting to sit up.
The voice walked over with a steaming cup. “Here, drink this. It won’t get rid of the pain, but it will help you feel a bit better. It’s chocolate.”
Lyria took a sip. It was delicious. Better than any drink the kitchen ever gave her.
As she drained the cup, her vision started to clear to find a very muscular woman. Green glowing eyes that she found eerily familiar, but with a worried yet calming expression on her face. As the woman stood up, she looked about 6’4” and was built like a statue. Clothes tattered and worn, but she looked like she couldn’t care less that her boobs were out.
Lyria finally sat up and took a look at herself. Nice clothes? Replaced with dry clothes made out of fur. Gash still very much there, but the pain was thudding at a bearable pace now rather than causing her to white out in agony.
“I hope you don’t mind. You would have died of hypothermia if I didn’t replace your clothes. They were soaked and you were already nearly frozen solid.”
Lyria nodded and scooted closer to the fire. She had on fur lined leggings, a skirt, and a shirt that smelled like wild animals. Tanned a long time ago, but very comfy.
“Did you see the deer that did this to me?” Lyria asked, already kind of knowing the answer.
The woman sighed. “That deer was me. My name is Peloya. People aren’t supposed to be in Veloria’s Balefire during the Eclipse. People around here know that, but as of recently, lots of out of town travelers have been ignoring the warnings.”
Lyria was confused. “I thought this forest was called Somnulis.”
The woman gave a small chuckle. “That’s what the rich people call it. Lack of faith in the higher beings, I’m guessing.”
Lyria looked around. “So what happened to you? Are all deer like that?”
The woman’s face fell again. “Veloria’s Balefire is a home for many creatures society deems a danger to the population. Every couple years, this forest becomes a safe haven for many creatures torn between society and the deep dangers the natural world can inflict on others. Therianthropes live our lives as normally as we can, but when the moons are full, our form is shifted into that of one of Veloria’s creations. When Deias is out, it’s pretty tame. Usually just a creature you could see anywhere, a wolf, a bear, I even know a few fish and sharks. But when that demonic orange moon is out when paired with Multaea, our transformations are distorted, corrupted. Most of us become violent, we lose our sense of self for the night. I promise you I did not mean to…oh no…”
As Lyria looked at the woman, a fear crossed the woman’s face as she turned back to grab something. The woman pulled out a mirror and, sure enough, staring back at Lyria, were two glowing green eyes.
“I am so sorry. The reason we all stay in this forest is because we don’t want to endanger others, but it looks like you’re one of us now.”
Lyria felt her body start to shake. As if her head was on fire, her skull started to shift and change. Fur started to grow from her body and she doubled over as her hands slowly became two hooves. Her clothes disappeared into the fur and in seconds, she found herself in the body of an elk. A female elk with antlers. As she looked around, still very self aware, she tried to speak, but all that came out was a screech.
The woman looked at the clearly confused deer with a truly stressed face. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Lyria screeched again.
“I know you’re upset. It’s your first transformation. It usually happens within the first few hours of infection.”
Lyria screeched indignantly.
“Of course, you’re a girl deer. Look at your antlers. And only female deer make that noise.”
Lyria huffed and stamped her hoof.
“Yes, I can understand you. I’m a druid. I speak sylvan, though you should be able to speak it too now because…well…”
Lyria screeched again.
“Yes, I’ll teach you everything I know. I guess I kind of owe it to you at this point. Veloria will also want to meet you. You’d make a great Druid.”
Lyria huffed again and nudged her with her nose.
“My butt does NOT look fat. I know this is deserved, but just because your parents decided to drive through here on the worst night of the year doesn’t mean you can be rude.”
Lyria snorted as she knelt down to sleep. Still very confused, but strangely, this was a mild improvement from the hell she was set to live in at the hands of her parents. Maybe this could be a good thing.
Several years later, a group of hunters stalked the dark forest of Veloria’s Balefire. Legends had grown of a dangerous breed of creatures that lived deep within the woods and adventurers were paid handsomely for each hide they brought back.
As they walked, they heard shuffling in the branches. They stopped and looked around and nothing jumped out at them. The two elves slowly moved a couple steps to the left while the Tabaxi held still waiting for any sign of movement.
In a split second, shards of ice rained from the sky in the middle of summer, pinning them to the ground.
A figure walked out of the shadows as if she was purely invisible. Hair, a ratty blonde tied into a ponytail with a bow crafted from ancient wood, and a quiver full of arrows.
“I am Lyria, the champion of Veloria, and you will tell me why you are in these woods.”
She could feel their fear as the shadows dropped off of Lyria like a fog. Just as she was about to put an arrow in all three of them, a divine roar echoed across the glade. Only a few miles away due south.
With a few quick arrows, all three hunters met their end and Lyria sprinted towards the yell. As she reached a gully she knew well, she found a bear squaring off with a girl with dark brown skin about her age. This girl carried a hammer that probably weighed about as much as Lyria did. And this girl was MAD. The gods could not reach this level of anger.
As Lyria surveyed the scene, she saw a sigil on the girl’s arm that ran chills up her spine. This girl was under an enchantment. And if Lyria didn’t break that, that bear was gonna get hurt. Summoning the power of her damn dark passenger, Lyria shifted her form willingly into her weredeer form and rushed in to help.
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sheltiechicago · 3 months
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Sun and Moon Twin Pagodas, China
yiran_ding
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travelnew · 5 months
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Bhau Beej - Sunset & Crescent Moon at Global Pagoda
15 November 2023 - clicked just before sunset at 6 pm & waxing crescent moon of 5.3% clicked at 6:08 pm when its elevation or altitude was 15.48 degrees above the western horizon at 232.6 degree azimuth. The Sun was at 251.3 degree azimuth.
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Chand raat. Click on the photo to enlarge and find out the thinnest crescent Moon.
This is the first time, I appreciated the importance of coordinates. The sun is easily seen. But this thin crescent Moon was located and seen with unaided eyes using coordinates, namely azimuth and altitude. I saw the azimuth and understood it. The azimuth of Sun and the Moon were different and the ecliptic was visualised.
The disovery of azimuth in my mind was like light in the darkness of ignorance.
A photo of the similar alignment of the setting Sun behind the Global Pagoda at Gorai had happened on 24 November 2020 and is here for you to enjoy.
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Chapter Nineteen recap: At Cloudy Paths Cave, Wukong takes in Eight Rules; At Pagoda Mountain, Tripitaka receives the Heart Sutra.
This chapter begins with a chase between Zhu Ganglie and Sun Wukong, with the pig yaoguai fleeing in the form of “flaming light” and the monkey “riding the rosy clouds…right behind.” This goes on until the reach a tall mountain, where Zhu Ganglie resumes his original form and takes out “a nine-pronged muckrake to fight.” Yet before they do so, the Monkey King shout-asks this yaoguai to “make a full confession” on his abilities, origin, and how he knows “old Monkey’s names.” Zhu Ganglie is happy to oblige. He proceeds to recount in poetry how a “true immortal” had set him on the path of divinity, allowing him to ascend to a place in the heavens as a “marshal of the Celestial Stream” where he “took command of both sailors and ships.” This was all ruined, however, when during one of the Queen Mother’s Peaches Feasts Zhu Ganglie “got dead drunk” and sexually harassed Chang’e the moon goddess. He even grew so violent that Zhu Ganglie almost toppled “the arch of Heaven’s gate” when Chang’e refused him. The Jade Emperor had first thought to punish this transgression with death, but thanks to the interjection of the Gold Star of Venus this sentence was lightened to “two thousand blows/My flesh was torn; my bones did almost crack.” Afterwards the former marshal was banished from Heaven, and was reborn into his “sinful destination” through the error of his soul getting into the womb of a pig.
Sun Wukong now recognizes this yaoguai as “the Water God of the Heavenly Reeds, who came to earth.” It is, as such “Small wonder you knew old Monkey’s name.” Zhu Ganglie proceeds to call the Monkey King a “Heaven-defying BanHorsePlague” and to berate him because when he “caused such turmoil that year in Heaven, you had no idea how many of us had to suffer because of you.” The two yaoguai than proceed to fight “in the middle of the mountain, in the middle of the night.”
They battle until daybreak, at which point Zhu Ganglie “fled in defeat,” changing “once more into a violent gust of wind” and going straight to his cave, locking the door and “refusing to come out.” As he did with the Black Wind King, Sun Wukong responds to this situation by going back to give his report to Tripitaka. Overhearing the current situation, Mr. Gao beseeches the pilgrims again to “do us the favor of apprehending” Zhu Ganglie, and that there will be “a generous reward” if they do. Yet now Sun Wukong questions the old patriarch’s desire to be rid of his current son-in-law, as “Much of what you were able to accumulate these last few years you owe to his strength.” Pilgrim Sun also makes the (dubious) claim that the pig yaoguai “has not harmed your daughter in any way,” and that as such this sort of son-in-law “would be a good match for your daughter and your family.” Mr. Gao simply states that they want Zhu Ganglie gone because though “this matter may not offend public morals, it does leave us with a bad name.” Sun Wukong then promises to “apprehend the monster for certain,” and flies off.
Without preamble, the Monkey King bounds back up the mountain and with “a few strokes of the iron rod reduced the doors to dust,” demanding that Zhu Ganglie fight with him once again. He finds the pig yaoguai inside still “trying to catch his breath,” yet Zhu Ganglie is ready to battle with Sun Wukong again after some exchanged insults. At the Monkey King’s teasing question Zhu Ganglie further gives a recital on the merits of his rake, which we learn is a powerful weapon that was first given to him as a gift by the Jade Emperor as “a sign of royal grace.” In response to this information on the power of the rake, Sun Wukong puts away his as-you-will cudgel and tells the pig yaoguai that he will give him a free hit. Zhu Ganglie “did indeed raise his rake high and bring it down with all his might; with a loud bang, the rake made sparks as it bounced back up. But the blow did not make so much as a scratch on Pilgrim’s head.” The Monkey King smugly gives a shaken Zhu Ganglie an account of everything that had gone into forging his invulnerability. Zhu Ganglie then asks Sun Wukong why he’s so far away from the Water-Curtain Cave of the Flower-Fruit Mountain, especially since his name “hasn’t been heard of for a long time.” It is only now that the Monkey King lets the pig yaoguai know that he’s “left the Daoist to follow the Buddhist” to accompany Tripitaka “on his way to the Western Heaven to seek scriptures from Buddha,” and that they had passed through Gao Village as part of that journey.
Hearing this, Zhu Ganglie immediately throws his muckrake aside and asks Sun Wukong to introduce him to Tang Sanzang, as the pig yaoguai is “a convert of the Bodhisattva Guanshiyin” and that she had asked him years ago to accompany the scripture pilgrim “so that I might atone for my sins with my merit and regain the fruits of Truth.” After forcing Zhu Ganglie to swear he’s telling the truth to heaven, burn down his Cloudy Paths Cave, and give the monkey his muckrake, Sun Wukong ties up the pig yaoguai and drags him by his ear back to the Gao Family Village.
As the two are immortals who can ride the clouds, in no time at all the monkey and the pig yaoguai are back at the village and Sun Wukong has dragged Zhu Ganglie in front of Tang Sanzang and the immediate members of old Mr. Gao’s family. Zhu Ganglie kowtows to Tripitaka, apologizing for not coming to meet him and telling the monk that if only he had known he was the scripture pilgrim that he would have come at once to pay his respects. After Sun Wukong shouts and strikes him, Zhu Ganglie further gives “a full account of how the Bodhisattva had converted him.” All of this greatly pleases Tripitaka, and the monk borrows some incense from Mr. Gao so that he can thank the Bodhisattva. Zhu Ganglie is then untied, and the pig yaoguai declares his intention to accompany Tang Sanzang to the west. He also bows to Sun Wukong “addressing him as ‘elder brother’ because he was the senior disciple.” Since Tripitaka wants to give him a religious name, Zhu Ganglie lets the monk know he already has one in Zhu Wuneng (Awake to Power). The pig yaoguai then asks if, since he had “maintained a strict vegetarian diet in my father-in-law’s house,” if he could now “be released from my vegetarian vow.” Horrified at the very notion, Tang Sanzang gives his new disciple the name “Eight Rules” to remind him to not eat the five forbidden viands and the three undesirable foods. And so the pig yaoguai gains his moniker Zhu Bajie.
Delighted at the “happy ending of this whole affair,” the old patriarch Mr. Gao orders a spending vegetarian feast to thank the Tang Monk. Sun Wukong also tells Zhu Bajie that since “you have embraced Buddhism and become a monk, please don’t ever mention ‘your humble wife’ again. There may be a married Daoist in this world, but there’s no such monk.” During the meal, Tang Sanzang refuses the wine Mr. Gao offers him as he has “not touched any kind of forbidden food since childhood.” He does let Zhu Bajie and Sun Wukong have some if they don’t get drunk.
After the meal is over, old Mr. Gao offers the monk a good sum of money and some fine clothes as travel expenses. Tang Sanzang refuses it all—saying that it’s enough that they take the leftovers from the feast—but Sun Wukong takes a handful of the monkey and gives it to Gao Cai, as “remuneration for being a guide.” Zhu Bajie, however, says that even though his new shifu and elder disciple may not want these goods, he had worked the Gao household for several years and that as such “the payment for my services should be worth more than three stones of rice!” At the pig yaoguai’s request, Mr. Gao gives his former son-in-law a new cassock of blue silk and a new pair of shoes. Swaggering around in his new outfit, Zhu Bajie informs the Gao patriarch that if “we fail in our quest for scriptures, I’ll return to secular life and live with you again as your son-in-law.” After some more yelling, the three Buddhists then set off, with Zhu Bajie carrying the luggage in the back and Sun Wukong leading the way.
This group travel uneventfully for a month until they encounter the Pagoda Mountain. Zhu Bajie lets his companions know that there’s no danger, though a “Crow’s Nest Chan Master lives there, practicing austerities.” Sure enough, they soon come upon a “fragrant juniper tree” surrounded by animals from mountain monkeys to phoenixes and that’s topped with “a nest made of dried wood and grass.” The Chan Master emerges from this nest and jumps down so that he and the pilgrims can exchange greetings. At Tripitaka’s questioning, the Chan Master tells the scripture monk that the Great Thunderclap Temple is still “very far away,” and that the “road is a difficult one, filled with tigers and leopards.” He also gives Tang Sanzang a Heart Sutra that when recited will ensure he does “not suffer any injury or harm.” Tripitaka prostrates himself on the ground “and begged to receive it, whereupon the Chan Master imparted the sutra by reciting it orally.” And because Tripitaka was “spiritually prepared,” he could “remember the Heart Sutra after hearing it only once.” It was because of him, in fact, that the world still has this “comprehensive classic for the cultivation of Perfection, the very gateway to becoming a Buddha.”
Having blessed the Tang monk with the sutra, the Chan Master moves to return to his crow’s nest. Tripitaka, however, “held him back and earnestly questioned him again about the condition of the road to the West.” Laughing, the Chan Master gives an account of the terrors the monk will face, though Sun Wukong laughs with scorn at this information, enraged at the Chan Master’s words that “An old stone ape of many years /Now nurses over there his spite! /Just ask that acquaintance of yours; /Well he knows the way to the West.” After the Chan Master had returned to his crow’s nest by changing into “a beam of golden light,” Sun Wukong tries to hit him with his iron rod, “but garlands of blooming lotus flowers were seen together with a thousand-layered shied of auspicious clouds. Though Pilgrim might have the strength to overturn rivers and seas, he could not catch hold of even one strand of the crow’s nest.” Finally Tripitaka pulls his eldest disciple back, and Zhu Bajie encourages the party to move on, noting as well that the Chan Master said that they are soon to meet a water sprite.
Whether the Chan Master is correct or not is a question that will have to be answered in the next chapter.
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ruibaozha · 5 months
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I understand that there are many versions of Nezha and we shouldn't stick to just one version, but I wanted to ask, does Nezha's age vary in any of the stories?
Hello!
Put very bluntly, yes, Nezha’s age varies depending on which story you’re reading and who’s retold it.
I happened to stumble upon a timeline error where Nezha’s brother Muzha is described to be using martial arts weapons referred to as “Hooks of Wu” which were specific to the 1800s, quite a long time after Canonization of the Gods was published, but also originating from a time period where numerous varied editions of that story were in circulation. Upwards of twenty different versions exclusive to the 19th century, actually.
The problem arises that Canonization of the Gods is meant to be occurring during the Zhou Shang conflict, that I will generously assume to be in 1045BCE, centuries before the Hooks of Wu would actually exist. It’s completely possible that the version Gu Zhizhong translated was one of these later editions as is makes no chronological sense for Muzha to have those kinds of weapons to begin with. So I have been on somewhat of a rabbit chase trying to pin down the edition Gu Zhizhong used.
Bearing such errors in mind, it’s easy to see where the confusion of Nezha’s age can come from. Before his origin story was integrated within Canonization of the Gods he would be roughly three to seven days old when his conflict with Ao Guang and the Lady Rock Demoness would occur - whereas within Canonization of the Gods he’s actually 6 or 7 years old.
Outside of that, a definitive age isn’t actually provided. Genuinely, within the scope of Chinese folklore and mythos it’s very rare to assign someone an exact age - which I do believe contributed heavily to the known discourse surrounding Nezha’s age to begin with.
He was imported as an adult from India, a child form not seeming to exist for a while until stories of Krsna were integrated to how the Chinese envisioned Nalakubara. Krsna, being an infantile disguise for the notorious Vishnu, also displays supernatural human strength and is actually successful in killing his father figure (1) — unlike Nezha.
As children, both Krsna and Nezha are able to wield heavenly bows and subjugate water spirits (2) while also being known to be dragon tamers (3). The inclusion of these stories to Nezha predates the sculpting of the Quanzhou Pagoda’s (which have been discussed briefly here) and are arguably the earliest evidence of Nezha being a dragon tamer.
Speculatively a child god combination of both Nalakubara and Krsna named Nana is likely where a majority of Nezha’s child attributes come from, based in the Scripture of the Supreme Secrets of Nana Deva - which would see translations within China during the Northern Song period of 960AD-1127AD. Nana would be described thus:
At that time there was a Deva called Nana. His appearance was exceptionally handsome, and his face beamed with a gentle smile. He was holding the sun, the moon, and various weapons. His numerous treasures and abundant jewelry shone more brightly than the sun and the moon. He made himself a luoye robe (4) from the dragons Nanda and Upananda, and a belt from the dragon Taksaka (5). He possessed the same strength as Narayana (i.e. Visnu). He too came to the assembly and sat down facing the Buddha … At that time the Buddha emanated great light from his dharma body of meditation. The light covered the entire Buddha Universe, reaching all the great evil yaksas, the various types of raksasas and pisacas (6) and all the evil dragons as far as the heavenly constellations. When the Buddhas light shone upon them they all awoke to the truth. The Buddhas light returned to him and, after encircling him three times, entered his head. It then reissued in seven colors from his brow, entering Nana-Deva’s head. When the Buddha light penetrated his head, Nana Deva displayed an enormous body like Mt. Sumeru. His facial expression alternated between terrifying anger and a broad smile. He had a thousand arms, and he was holding a skull (7) and numerous weapons. He was handsomely adorned with a tiger skin robe and skulls. [Mightily Strong] He emanated blazing light and terrifying strength. When Nana Deva displayed this divine body, the great earth shook, and all who beheld him were terrified.
Both Nana and Nezha share the same residence of Vaisravana’s palace, are known dragon tamers, and both were known to use belts. The Supreme Secrets of Nana Deva predate all known connections between Nezha and dragons, perhaps lending to Nezha many more elements than initially believed.
Though without concrete evidence stating one way or another, I can only present this information speculatively - especially as it seems difficult for some to understand that Nezha does enjoy a known adult and child form. This answer has already become quite long, so if there’s still confusion regarding this please feel free to ask for more details.
Bibliography:
(1) Goldman, “Fathers, Sons and Gurus,” pp.350, 364; Masson, “Childhood of Krsna”; Ramanujan, “The Indian ‘Oedipus’”; Silk, Riven by Lust, pp. 164-170.
(2) Harley, “Krishna’s Cosmic Victories”; Matchett, “Taming of Kaliya”.
(3) It’s worth comparing Matchett’s “Taming of Kaliya” p.116 with Canonization of the Gods 12.103. Nezha is five days old within the Ming era Sanjiao yuanliu shengdi fozu sou shen daquan, p. 326.
(4) Luoye is the Chinese term for a garment Indian men tied under the armpit, leaving their right shoulder bare. See Xuanzang, Da Tang Xiyu ji, T. 2087, 51: 876b, and Li Rongxi’s translation, Great Tang Dynasty Record, p.53.
(5) Nanda, Upananda, and Taksaka appear in various Buddhist lists of the eight dragon kings; see Foguang da cidian, pp. 6378,6405.
(6) The rakasas and pisacas are two types of Hindu ogres, who Buddhists demonology incorporated. Both types feed on human flesh. See Foguang da cidian, pp6673-6674 and 3851; Monier-Williams, A Sanskrit-English dictionary, pp. 871 and 628; and Strickman’s survey of Buddhist demonology in his Chinese Magical Medicine, pp. 62-68.
(7) Geboluo appears frequently within the contemporaneous Chinese translation of the Hevajra Tantra (Foshuo dabeikong zhi jin’guang dajiaowang yigui jing), no. 892 volume 18: 587-601.
(8) Zuishang mimi Nana tian jing, no. 1288, 21:358b-c. hi
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klonoa-at-blog · 2 years
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From: Klonoa: Door to Phantomile Official Guide Book (Published by Famitsu/Enterbrain - 1998) (Pg. 198-199)
(Images 1 & 2)  If you look around this world......  On the right (Image 1) is a comparison of the heights of each area of Phantomile. Note that the Moon Kingdom is shown lower than the Temple of the Sun. Below (Image 2) is a panoramic view of Phantomile. Although shown in the movie scene during the game, this shows more clearly that the Moon Kingdom is sealed underground center of the Wind and Forest Villages and the Water Kingdom. If you look closely, you can see that the actual areas and routes that appear in each vision are neatly drawn, and you can marvel at the designer's artistry and get a good sense of the location of each area.
(Images 3 & 4) If you look at that one spot...... When designing a village or a kingdom, the creators drew several sketches. The following is a display of some of the sketches that still exist. On the right (Image 3) is an exterior view of Coronia, the Temple of the Sun, where you venture through in Vision 5-1 and 5-2. In the game, you could see that it was somehow rising upward, which explains why it was constructed in this way. The location of the altar where the moon pendant is presented, the mechanism for breaking the seal of the Moon Kingdom, and many other secrets that would not have been apparent only by adventuring are revealed in this interesting material. The two pictures below (Image 4) are blueprints of the Shell Castle in the water kingdom of Jugpot. The CG movie scene also shows that it’s design was faithfully reproduced. It is surprising that the residential pagodas, watch posts, and the flag of Jugpot were so well defined. The designers are worthy of being called the Creators. Other details, such as Granny's mechanical mansion and the ruins of the Wind Village, are also interesting, but unfortunately, no sketches of these have survived. Let's take a closer look at the actual objects created by the power of dreams.
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