tl;cr meme

[marriagebroker]

post your character, people reply, give them the deets. you know how this goes.

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[poans]

Now more presentable after going clothes shopping with Aventurine, he did put in the effort to clean up for everyone, including Yingying, regardless of the sudden rift he felt between them. Their exchange steered on the scholastic side for a bit, because it was easy and he genuinely enjoys giving explanations on various subjects. While he wasn't overly excited, that he was driven to spare more than a handful of words was proof enough of what this meant for him. After all, he's the type to lose himself in the hyperfixation of pursuing knowledge insofar that he forgets sleep and sustenance.

Then cropped up the topic of sending him off to a sweet dream. Despite her generous offer, he saw no reason for her to do that for him. He was fine, functional in that this had been his norm for some time. There was also no point in a good dream, of grasping something hopeful in a fantasy that would fade come morning. Yet her stance was curious, as she said that he could refuse. This was again in direct contrast to Gubo, who'd been exasperated and slung words meant to imbue him with guilt for being so uncooperative. Yi Sang knew he was troublesome as he was now, but Yingying didn't admonish him. She could have done anything to him. She could have forced him into a slumber, because, while I wrote in the permissions posts that he'd have mixed feelings about it due to his history with sedatives, it wouldn't have mattered in the end. Nothing did, so the line she drew at whether he really wanted to sleep or not made all the difference.

Maybe there wasn't a point, but he wanted change. He wanted to know what sort of dream he might have that could qualify it as sweet. He wanted to dream or, failing that, forfeit his life after the game as that would be easier. And while he could've said that there was no reason or particular thought behind his sudden willingness to hear her lullaby, her heartfelt ask of him from the ceremony propelled him to share that much. Consternation filled him with the admission. Would he be happy in the dream? Would he dream at all? And if he was happy, would it be due to a past vision of spicebush or the future by way of the fragrance of wisteria? He was wearily curious to know if the dream would impart unto him any wisdom. It was stated in his speech at the third ceremony, but he ultimately dreamed of the laughter of children who sought joy within each other. Rather than a place or something unknown, he relived his childhood, featuring his friends with whom he'd found happiness in spite of the City's looming cruelties. Over the course of his stay at the game, he would compound this with lessons from fellow players to learn that the place he craved could also lie in people, while removing Yingying from the pedestal as a cure-all and maintaining her personhood.

With that established, he ordered for her at her behest! He asked for something simple on his end due to lack of appetite, and then a dish more eye-catching for Yingying that carried his sentiment of something that might have been shared with companions at a fete. In talking about preferences, he didn't necessarily care for nothing as he has clear preferences like spoilt milk . . . ┌( ´_ゝ` )┐ and rice. He loves rice, so he shared that much in acknowledgment of Yingying's efforts to get something out of him. It was mostly that he didn't have a preference when it came to something he disliked. His two visitors at N Corp. had never cared: Gubo had kept asking, and Hermann had promised coercion in the event of his refusal before courtesy. That Yingying was putting some agency into his slothful hands was a meaningful gesture, and one that coaxed more cooperation out of him than those two. All things considered, the date ended on a mellow yet faintly hopeful note.

Then the ghosts visited. Yi Sang, who'd physically left his birdcage in N Corp., was far from thrilled to see Sang Yi unknowingly caught in an endless loop this time. Even if he himself wasn't, he wanted Sang Yi to be free, though he omitted many of the details of their shared story when asked by Yingying due to his still persistent, if slightly improved, depression. Once upon a time, Yi Sang had asked Sang Yi to turn away when he did after their talks, as reflections do; out of deference for Sang Yi's wishes that had led to his departure, Yi Sang similarly turned away when the apparition took its leave to focus instead on Yingying. After seeing Shoko and Yingying's ghosts, his misgivings fell away at the heartwarming sights, and he couldn't deny the good they did.

(Yi Sang didn't know, but every time Sang Yi's apparition stopped to greet someone with a smile, it was meant to be him on the other side.)

Yi Sang envied Sang Yi, believing that he couldn't be free like his left-handed self. Curiously, he remarks in a recollection of the time he'd told Sang Yi in a fit of despair that he had nothing but himself, I was the one who said this was all that I had, so why did you make such a devastated expression as though you lost everything? Yi Sang's understanding of Sang Yi was distorted by his own biases, but in this moment, hearing about Yingying's grief and her state of being lost, he thought he could understand what Sang Yi had felt. Now that he knew she was struggling in ways he hadn't noticed, he was forced to reevaluate his previous impression of her and deconstruct his notions of her ideal path. The devastation he felt on her behalf was gutting, because he didn't want that for her. This was where his understanding of people matured some more, and he set aside his own troubles to focus on her peace of mind. Although he didn't know if this was the correct course of action, he knew that he didn't want her to hurt any more than she already was and chose to spend the rest of the night watching her mothers at her side.

During the next ceremony discussion, he was surprised that Yingying intended to choose him. Not many had seemed to believe in their match a week prior, but she was still decisive after another week to decide who might be her proposed destined partner according to an unknown algorithm. He was uncertain of what he offered her when there were so many brighter players among them, and in his lack of confidence was a poor conversationalist. Still, he managed to communicate that the experience of being chosen by her would never be comparable to another like it, for that moment would be theirs and theirs alone.

Yi Sang is observant and perceptive. Because of his despondency, it was habit to sit on his inferences and neither voice nor act on them unless asked. By the rager, he'd noticed peculiarities in Yingying's hours and locations, especially after seeing the wisteria in its barren state at least once as a night owl. He might have even seen it during his one thread with Nico out in the gardens. All that to say, he suspected there was some sort of a connection between Yingying and the wisteria that went deeper than guardianship. When he saw the latter again that night, he was deeply moved by its resilience and took his seat beneath its meager blooms, banking on the hypothesis that Yingying would emerge at some point. Just as she'd received him when he roused from the sweet dream of Dongrang and Dongbaek, he wanted to greet her in kind.

He was completely sincere when he told her that the wisteria was the most inviting thing in the gardens. It was fighting to survive, and that was a comfort and an inspiration in one as someone struggling to do the same. This, however, was the first time Yingying seemed to doubt his words, and her pushback took him back enough that he apologized, confused and uncertain. He tried again, which could perhaps have been considered a feat in and of itself when his failure to convey the full breadth of his thoughts at the first ceremony had left him so demoralized that he'd all but given up. For Yingying, he confessed to the raw beauty he saw in the tree and was rewarded with knowledge of her true connection to it.

[S]hock felt like a cheap summation of everything she'd gone through, so he was disinclined to agree with her and said, instead, that it was a precious discovery as opposed to something grand. Grand suggested something exciting, a spectacle. Yingying's tale was not a scene from a play at which to gawk. She was a person with a heart, dreams, and pains of her own, and he paid homage to that.

Her talk about using the wish to change her fate was ambiguous enough that he asked after what she wanted, because it was what she'd always done for him and he was increasingly beginning to wonder if she was clear on her own desires. Then came the bombshell: I just keep thinking . . . what would be the point? This was an earthshattering revelation to Yi Sang, who had asked and continued to still ask himself that question many a time. He knew exactly how much lonelier it would feel to walk out on the final vestiges of what remained. Strained though his relationship with Gubo had been, the stars still darkened once he left him. Yingying's fears were thus wholly founded and, in that moment, he could truly see her. It was a time of heartbreak, filled with despair and the question of whether anything awaited at the end of the road for either of them.

He confessed to his own concerns once she turned the subject of wishes around on him, and that he hadn't a clue on how to utilize the prize were he to earn it. Yi Sang was here for a wish, but not the wish. He'd lost interest in the prize after the initial consideration of his wings, and was more invested in what the premise of the game might do for him on his journey. Still, the commonality he just discovered in Yingying drove him to cobble together his stray thoughts and tell her about his true wish of flying, which was nothing more than that—a wishful thought.

Yi Sang was a bit misguided. Because he'd been so happy during the League's peak, he placed all stocks in the League itself. He thought that that place and, by extension, technology had been the roots of his happiness, and now believed that he was pathetically stroking the joints where wings used to be by clinging to research. As the League could never be again, he was resigned to walking and never taking flight, uncertain if there was a way for him to be free without his wings. He longed to believe there was, especially if it meant that Yingying, too, could follow that faint thread. It marked a subtle shift in how he regarded their respective walks: A part of him might have been envious of Yingying at first, but now, seeing that she was much closer than he'd thought, protectiveness settled in its place.

Still, there was a fundamental difference that set them apart. He saw lack where she saw potential, and therein lay the allure: Regardless of her place on their intersecting paths, it was a fragrance of hope, wherever and whatever that might be.

Her poeticism spoke to his heart at the ceremony. Although perhaps not in the way she'd intended, he interpreted her words with another kind of romanticism. Autumn was symbolic of the passage of time, but it also represented abundance, and that went on to help him with reframing in the future. He couldn't say that he'd effect much in the way of a bounty, but he wanted to persist in his meaningless existence, if only to see the spring come and what it would bring. There was a flitter indicative of the remnants of his wings. Was it a futile struggle to go on like the flightless chickens Sang Yi had spoken of, or was it a flutter of something more alive? His feelings were beginning to grow stronger where Yingying was concerned, and he responded to what he could, which was her wish that he stay. He agreed to remain at her side as long as she wanted, ignorant of her honest intentions. The love he harbored for her at this point was rooted in deep sentimentality that encompassed and went beyond romantic love. The juxtaposition of himself as autumn and her as spring also created a poetic connection between them, inexplicably tying their futures together; consequently, if she moved, then so would he—hence, the flutter. It was hope.

He was truly baffled by her laughter, because he didn't think he was being funny, but it was good to see her happy. He pledged to be there until she bloomed again to address her fear of isolation. As for her more ardent feelings, Yi Sang's growth of looking at others before himself hindered him from sorting through his own heart for the longest time, which was why it took him as long as it did to get his act together.

For a researcher, failure was but a shadow amid countless trials and errors to arrive at an answer. To that end, the blackout didn't bother him in the slightest, nor did it dampen the connection between him and Yingying. It wasn't as if anyone knew the criteria for the matches, anyway, which was why he gave such a clinical assessment of himself in the ensuing discussion. Yingying was clever with her words and challenged his evaluation. He could almost never express himself as desired with the necessary expediency, but that was for the best in order to introduce more humanity into his self-effacing stance.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, had concerns. He probed Yi Sang on the latter's disappointment with the ceremony, except Yi Sand had none to impart when he had no grievance with the outcome. Wei Wuxian had been calling this a game since the beginning, and they were players participating to win for some kind of gain. As Yingying's importance to him went so far beyond the boundaries of the game, he simply cherished the moments they shared by the wisteria. In doing so, he was thinking less and less about their inevitable separation. He described her as a kindred spirit and his hopes to see her fully bloom without the need for illusions. While he failed to grasp the notion of romantic love, the thought did niggle at his mind over the course of the third week as more and more characters started remarking on their relationship.

Their date that week was his putting in more effort to grant Yingying's wish of honoring the memory of the fete by choosing stalls based on what she'd told him about her village's customs. Yi Sang prefers the quiet if he can help it, but a festive environment wasn't bad at all. Unfortunately, his naivety on the streets reared its innocent head here: In spite of his background as one of the commonfolk, as it were, he'd always been something of a recluse where he'd devote all of his time to his fellows and his hobbies outside of work. He hadn't lingered in the streets long enough for interactions like these, having earned enough so as not to be hindered by price after emigrating to T Corp. from S Corp., where the economy is considerably worse off and inapplicable to a healthier market.

To break down his answer about where he's from, District 19 is his homeland in the City. After leaving with his compatriots to escape the rampant corruption and inaction on the administration's end, he found work in the Nest of T Corp. where the elites and upper class live. Then, once things snowballed out of control at T Corp., he was taken to an N Corp. facility, which he left shortly before the game. Yi Sang's experiences have been such that he has lost two, if not three, homes: his place of birth, the League, and even the white square with Gubo, who'd been his final tether to the past. With each relocation, he'd lost precious people and things to where he was now left with nothing. Ultimately, he'd even left Sang Yi behind in search of something more.