perfectmatch | week two

Verso and Yingying are taken to a fancy garden party. It looks like something pulled from the pages of Martha Stewart. There's a good group of people around and live music and it's just... it's nice, is all.

Highlights

They'll be offered the opportunity to change into appropriate attire before the date.
The food is catered and lush.
There is alcohol, yeah.

Well? To your liking, Mademoiselle?

[Can it be fancy yet casual outfit day? Yes, it can.]

Good food, good drink, lively company, and most of all... look at this garden.

[ Fancy yet casual... yes. Now that she's figured out a way to have access to more clothes, she's having fun dressing up in the clothes from her homeland — rather than wear her fairy attire all the time. She blends right in with the garden, with the green and purple hues of her attire. ]

It's beautiful, [ Lots of blooms she doesn't recognize, which she is swiveling her head all around at, somewhat easily distracted by all the new information. ] I've never seen food and flowers like this before...

[ She is taking peeks at other tables while they walk to their own, too, smile faint. ]

Have a green thumb at all, Verso?

[She really does love her plants and flowers, doesn’t she? Dressed like she is, Verso thinks it’s almost as if she belongs more to their beauty than that of man.

He plucks a blossom from a nearby vase atop a table, spinning it between forefinger and thumb. The air is heavy with the scent of flowers everywhere, but he can still smell the sweetness of this one.]

Not really, no. But I was an artist, of a sort… once. And what burgeoning creative hasn’t studied flowers from petal to stem before?

[ Just seating herself at their designated table, which has table cameras and everything.... there's even a cute looking tower of delicacies already set out for them. ]

So it's just appreciation, [ Here she thought his attention to the garden might be from experience, or something like that. ] I didn't take you for a painter or calligrapher. Or maybe you did glass blowing?

[And beside that, a tower of pastel macarons. Verso sits across from her, placing the flower back into its vase.]

“Just”? Do I disappoint you by just being an artist?

[She can choose to answer that or not. It’s asked lively all the same.]

I did paint. [ … ] When I was younger, my loves were art and music. As an adult, I preferred music, but old appreciations still die hard.

[ She tilts her head innocently at the question, deigning not to answer. Insteady, she plucks a macaron from the tower, tapping her nail on the smooth shell on top. What a strange pastry. ]

Do you miss painting at all, then?

[He takes one, too, considering its shape and color before replying. He notes how she didn't answer.]

That's... complicated.

[Painting is an interest that is tied up in too much, now. Memories like bramble, made more poignant by the nature of his world.]

It would be easiest for me to say "no", but even if the hobby has lost its luster, I don't think I'll ever stop looking at the world like that of an artist. Appreciation doesn't fade just because I couldn't live up to expectations.

Edited 2025-06-10 18:18 (UTC)

[ Couldn't live up to expectations.... hmm.

Her gaze turns thoughtful, turning over each word he said for clues. The way he talks about it, it seems like much more than a hobby him. His first "loves," sure, in the metaphorical sense, but she wonders if the connection goes even deeper. ]

That makes it sound like.... you weren't the one who chose to stop painting. Is that it?

[ Is that it? Having expectations on you tends to lead people down paths in their life they would've never sought for themselves. It's a tale as old as time. For once, her cadence loses it's playful and elusive tone, sincere in its curiosity and interest. ]

[And Verso's own tone becomes less flippant, maybe an edge guarded, but he's taking into account what Wei Wuxian told him — the truth, perhaps, is not something he can avoid forever.

Easier to dole it out piecemeal and in snippets that seem more or less innocuous. And though this is a old pain, not always pleasant to be vulnerable about, her willingness to listen—if even only out of curiosity—makes Verso offer more.

After a bite of a macaron.]

That's not quite it. My parents were very famous painters. It was only expected that their children followed in their footsteps. Even if those children had dreams that flowed in different directions.

[Music.]

I was prolific, and fairly talented—if I should say so myself!—but it all felt so... tiresome, after a while.

[ Though he starts eating, she doesn't, still merely inspecting the treat. Perhaps her hesitance has to do with a lack of hunger — but it's certainly at odds with the level of interest she seems to show in everything. ]

I understand. [ Though she can't relate to the feeling, she knows well what he means. Her cookie gets put down onto her plate, before she grabs another one, pink in color. ] The arts are hard to pursue if your heart isn't in it.

[ But he still has his other love, music. It sounds like his feelings towards both are complicated, entangled with his relationship with his family. ]

I'm fortunate, that way... my moms, and all the other people who took me in, didn't have any sort of expectation like that of me. They just wanted me to grow up happily. It must have been quite a lot of pressure for you.

[ It's the first time she's really alluded to having any sort of human-like upbringing with him, but she does it so casually it's like she's never been trying to be vague about her past at all. ]

[It does seem interesting that she's not going to town on the sweet treats, especially since she seems so curious about them. He wonders why that is; but Verso sets the question aside. He can ask later.

Because this feels more important somehow. A glimpse of the woman behind the pretty smiles and mysterious air; a bit of true backstory, the foundation of who she was, or even is.]

I do think my parents wanted me to be happy. Maybe they just decide for themselves what it would take for that to happen. [In certain ways, he can see the effects of this manifest in his siblings, too, though in different ways.] Your... moms. [Plural.] What were they like? They sound kind.

[ She brightens a bit at the question, apparently eager to talk about them, despite never mentioning them before. ]

They were the kindest, warmest people you could meet... and really protective of me. They all found me as a baby underneath the wisteria, and raised me as their own. I had a lot of them — all the courtesans who worked at the Wisteria Pavilion became my family.

[ Her gaze is wistful, nostalgic for a time and people that don't exist anymore, given how she speaks of them firmly in the past. ]

I've been telling the other contestants... they're the reason I don't have much experience in romance, [ She laughs, wondering if Verso will even believe that. ] They'd chase off pretty much any suitor that came knocking.

[Ha... so he's settled upon a subject she enjoys speaking about? That much is clear. "Family is complicated", he'd always say, but for once, it's nice to see someone who simply loves them in an uncomplicated way. (maybe)(jams might prove me wrong)

So, that wisteria tree of hers is somewhat explained; sentimental value, perhaps? He wonders.]

And what would they say now? About you being here?

[ She closes her eyes, pondering. ]

Mm... they'd probably say, you wore this on a date with our Yingying? Do you make money?

[ Playfully, she opens her eyes and looks over his outfit again, eyes fond and full of mischief. Those were the kind of people her moms were, absolutely adamant that only someone worthy of their precious daughter could come close. She'd never minded it, growing up, even if sometimes it could be a bit extreme — she always took it as a sign of their love for her. ]

They were always being really hard on anyone I wanted to go on a date with — but it'd be okay, 'cause I'd swoop in and protect you. [ a beat. ] They'd be happy... that I was looking for someone I could really fall in love with.

[Verso cracks a smile, laughing fondly at that. So, mothers who think no one is good enough for their daughter. The height of love and protection itself.

They must have been good times for her, he muses. Verso thinks back to his own family, in those days before he knew the truth of things, when everyone had been so happy and content with their lot in life. Before the city was fractured, life had felt doused in a warm glow, radiating within every moment. Perhaps it's nostalgia, sadness, and grief that ironically paint it as such in his memories.

Long gone, those halcyon times. And as hurtful as the truth had been, as much as reality has been so unkind over the years, there are moments in which Verso still wishes they existed. That he had never departed from him, lost in a feeling of belonging.]

I'm glad. No doubt they'd be over the moon if you do find someone you fall head over heels with, Yingying.

[ ... ]

Can I ask... what happened to them? If you're willing to speak on it.

[ The question isn't a surprising one — it's just one that no one's dared ask yet. Her brow knits, smile turning wry, but she doesn't hesitate to answer. None of this is a secret.... rather, it's a dreary and bloody tale that doesn't suit the happy endings she loves so much. ]

Once, on our New Year celebrations, a shooting star appeared in the sky.

[ If she wants to know Verso — then she needs to be known, herself. Sometimes, sharing a wound like this leads to companionship, understanding... or at least the weight not feeling so heavy. ]

It was like a miracle. Our fete is all about wishes — in that moment, everyone put forth a wish in their heart for the coming year.

[ There's a lyrical dramatism to the way she recants the tale. This isn't her first time spinning it for someone else, though it is her first time doing so here. IT doesn't suit her to talk about it so bluntly, so she gives it the bells and whistles a certain storyteller would prefer it to have. It's a great tragedy, after all. ]

But... that shooting star fell to the earth.

[ She doesn't elaborate further than that, wondering if he'll imagine for himself what happened. To her moms, to everyone there in the village, despite the fact that she's still sitting before him. ]

[He was compelled to ask, maybe, even if someone calls him tactless for it. The loss of family is a fresh pain, and though he would not wish it on anyone else, he cannot help but be drawn to similar tales. As though seeking to soothe each other's hurt through commiseration, or simply the shared knowledge of not being the only one.

She does frame it in a very whimsical way; like the beginning of a fairytale. But like all such things, there's a sinister, ominous twist. And Verso is imaginative enough to try to fill in the blanks.

A star, to wish on. But then that same one, falling to the earth...]

...Bringing destruction with it, I assume.

[Is that not how the stories go.]

[ She hums an affirmative. ]

The star carried a strange substance... people changed into monsters. The destruction aside.

[ Her demeanor turns a little more serious, losing the whimsy and fantasy her tale had brought on previously. Still, though, she's able to tell him this without breaking down, without more than a somber quality tinging her voice. Verso had spoken of monsters before, and here, she lays bare her familiarity with it. ]

...I was the only survivor in the end, [ For whatever reason. Fate, luck, or just coincidence. Talking like this, she seems less like the energetic, outgoing fairy that's fluttered about the competition, and more like she's lived beyond her visual years. ] Me and the wisteria.

[He understands, then, why the mention of monsters in their very first meeting might have struck a chord, even if it was a well-hidden one on her part. To be changed into an awful creature, to have your own form overwritten to become something else — the very thought makes cold dread twist inside of him.

Still, this admission feels like peeking past her usual demeanor to see what lies beneath. That somberness, for which he can hardly blame her, and a moment in which she seems older than her years. Verso can only wonder if she's come to peace with her past, and her loss, or if it still gnaws at her when she's alone.]

I'm sorry. [He can imagine the destruction, but to experience a complete loss, all at once? It must be devastating.] I can't imagine how terrifying that must have been.

[And from that destruction, she still keeps her... wisteria? He doesn't quite understand.]

...You don't mean the same wisteria in the manor right now, do you?

The very same.

[ She confirms it for him, knowing that it must seem mysterious for a tree of all things to be her fellow survivor in that apocalyptic event. Truth is, she doesn't understand all the specifics of it herself — she only knows her lived experience, and nothing about all the research that has happened in the last century about the star that fell, the substance that was embedded in it. ]

Where that substance turned others, it allowed the wisteria and I to survive. [ Or so it's been explained to her. In the actual moment, things had been so chaotic that she'd hardly made sense of why it was her that had lived, compared to all the others. ] I don't understand it fully, myself... but that substance, "mania," which was on the star... in the years following its fall, they've figured out that "mania" is capable of causing all sorts of supernatural phenomena.

[ Like giving people supernatural powers, turning them to monsters, or allowing survival where it shouldn't have been possible. ]

Are you surprised to hear its still alive?

[A strange substance from the stars, dubbed "mania." The ability to change others into monsters, or extend lifespans, or to cause any manner of supernatural events — is this a fairytale, or a horror?

He shakes his head. Verso has forgotten all about his macaron at this point, and it remains half-eaten in his hand, balanced between forefinger and thumb.]

No. Well, yes, but that's not completely it.

[It is strange, he thought before, to have brought a tree to the show, but Verso had chalked it up to a keen sentimentality. Now, he has even more context, and while he wasn't wrong, now he wonders.]

...Why'd you bring it with you? To this show. I've noticed you're often there with it in the morning. Is it tied to you after what happened?

[ Hmm... he's asking all the right questions, isn't he? She can't help but want to reward him with the truth. Like him, her macarons have been forgotten on her plate, but for an entirely different reason. ]

Such a clever man you are. [ She laughs, but it sounds more genuine — less flirtatious and airy than her usual aura. ] After the star fell, the tree and I became inseparable... in the literal sense, and the metaphorical.

[ She links her hands, lacing her fingers together with elbows on the table. Only Odile knows the full truth, but now Verso will, as well. ]

A hundred years after, my health isn't very good, you see. While the tree has kept my physical body alive, I've been told I can't be taken out of it. My body is too corrupted, too fused to the tree itself... so I can only appear in front of all of you like this. Like a spirit, or a fairy.

[ The last bit is tacked on with a note of humor, trying to explain, in however a non-direct way, that the form in front of him isn't "real" the way he might think. And that's the heart of the matter — the Yingying they've all come to know, go on dates with, chat with, is something of an illusion, a projection. Tangible, yes, but not physical. It's why the macarons have gone untouched. ]

Rather than "why" I brought it, it's more that... I couldn't be here without it.

[It makes sense, really, when she says it like that. As though the pieces of the puzzle surrounding her mystery—when it comes to the tree, anyway—fall straight into place. What he's seeing is just a projection of her, with her physical body still fused to the tree back in the estate; his eyes flicker down to her macarons, which have been examined but not eaten, and that makes sense now, too.

But...

It still sounds like such a sad fate. He doubts Yingying needs his pity, but Verso's softie heart still goes out for her.]

Yingying...

[On top of all that, her health...?]

So then you might as well be the tree itself, in a way. [ ... ] Do you... suffer? As part of it?

In a sense, maybe... efforts towards my recovery haven't been successful.

[ But she doesn't want him to think she's spending everyday in agonizing pain — she isn't. There's just the looming threat of her life slipping through the roots, unable to sustain itself anymore. ]

It's lonely. A hundred years is a long time to spend in the shadow of the past. [ a beat. ] This competition is actually... the first time I've been able to talk with and spend time with so many people since the star fell.

week two | dates

verso and yingying

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vague e33 spoilers

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path to nowhere spoilers

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