Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
Hong Kong. The city of eggs, trade, and life. The place to be. East meets west. Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
One of you wandered here.
One of you immigrated.
One of you is here on holiday.
You three have become fast friends for some reason, play-fighting with the other gangs of kids for imagined territory. Other children call you the Three Heroes, after the legendary warriors from the Three Kingdoms period, because there are three of you. But shopkeepers and police call you "those fucking kids" because you run very fast and get into a lot of trouble for some reason or another. You especially like to wander around abandoned buildings and houses.
From your network of extended friends, you found out that down near the fishing district is an abandoned old-fashioned estate, complete with papered wooden walls, brass knockers, and a courtyard. Check it out?
Zhi pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "At this rate, I won't be able to protect you guys and keep my job. Can't we just push this misadventure back until I finish earning my ticket out of this place?"
"Relax, mate," Qieting says, trying to sound soothing. "We're just going to have a look around. It probably won't take long. Your boss doesn't even have to know."
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
The three of you travel to the fishing district, and arrive at the aforementioned estate. Something is awry; in fact, many things are awry.
The house looks to be in remarkable condition despite apparently being abandoned. The walls are three times taller than usual, and painted green. And two grinning demon heads grip their mouths around the door handles/knockers, instead of the more auspicious lion.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
Suddenly, every door in the estate bursts open, and from them hop hideously-decayed corpses, dressed in Qing Dynasty official robes. Arms outstretched, fingernail claws bared, they surround the little gang.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
You manage to break through where the Jiangshi are thinnest. You're in the clear, but now several are trying to get to you, and your friends are still stuck there.
"Oooh..." Akemi swore under her breath. She wanted to live like an adventurer, not die like one, at least not yet. Supressing all thoughts to the contrary, she tries to follow Zhi through the Jiangshi.
Zhi looks around, trying not to panic. He glimpsed Qieting still inside the ring, unconscious. He couldn't find Akemi, but he could hear her screaming.
Cursing under his breath, he ran back into the ring to grab Qieting.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
You manage to haul Qieting out of the ring of Jiangshi. As you do, you hear the faint sound of whistling. You raise your head, and see a dozen things at once.
Arrows piercing Jiangshi heads and an old man carrying a bow on the roof.
A young woman, standing in the middle of the courtyard, screaming about futility and smashing Corpses into bits, swinging a pair of miniature suns connected by string in either hand.
Another young woman, firing her revolver again and again into the piles of dead flesh, the shots making no sound for some reason.
That's the last thing you see, until you fade away.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
Five years ago to the day, you and your two friends were nearly killed by things you believed to be imaginary. Five years ago, you were saved by three heroes, who never stuck around to be thanked. Their power, their mastery was entrancing. You wish to learn from them.
You are stronger now. More skilled.
Now is the time to find tutelage. Now is the time to find a master.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
Ma Zhi
It is a cold autumn day in Beijing. You take a hard right, through the warm doors of a traditional winehouse. You scan the room.
As the note said, there she was, stupid damn hat hanging from her chair. One Steed Qi, veteran of the Red Stampede. Dressed in a fetching purple pinstripe suit.
Zhi blushed a bit. City fashion always tended to dazzle him.
"Sorry, didn't mean to stare" he mumbled. Not the best start. He mustered up all the charm he could manage and said "Ma Zhi. I've heard impressive things about you."
"Well, a couple of villagers told me that you fought off a dragon with your bare hands. The officer stationed in Urumqi told me that you stole a contract from the Eagles at the point of an arrow. And from the Stampeders who I've worked with? I've heard about magic fountains, magical psychic bears and a battle to the death with a French assassin. I bet most of them aren't true, but if someone features in that many myths, you know that have to be that good."
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
She stares at you for a moment, and bursts out laughing.
"Ah, alright. Some of those are true, but they don't tell the whole story. Magical psychic bears...that one's new, though."
"I could correct every one of those accounts, but then we'd be here all day. And something tells me you don't want to listen to an old hag like me tell war stories. You've been spoken highly by my fellows, so speak on."
"I'm always up for a good story, but there's something I'd like to ask you about." Zhi pulls out a weathered folder, the summation of years of information picked up from villagers and obscure news sites. He carefully places it on the table. "Anything in there look familiar to you?"
"The people in this folder...they saved my life once, a long time ago. I'm only alive because of what they've done. I simply want to ask them a few question, that's all.
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
She breaks eye contact, leaning back.
"Alright, kid; I believe you. One of these folks are my friends, so I needed to be careful. I hope you understand."
She takes out a cigarette, lights it, and takes a deep puff.
"Joyce will be in San Moritz, Switzerland. But she won't stay there. After that, I don't know for certain where she'll be."
Qi leans forward.
"Tell you what. You help me with this contract, I'll go with you to find her. I've got a few hunches as to her location, and I too, have some...questions for her."
Man is a most complex simple creature: see what he weaves, and how base his reasons for doing so.
Hao Qieting
You hear a whistling noise. Instinctively, you snap your hand forward, catching a pebble from the air.
"Good." says Qi, as she steps out of the shadows. "You have good senses. That's just what we need." She is wearing a burgundy pinstripe suit and hat, and in her hand is a short bow with some kind looped cord strung tightly in the middle of the bow string.
She walks closer to you, stretching her hand out for you to shake. "Xiang Qi, Steed of the Red Stampede."
Comments
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
"Well....I mean, no."
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Qieting takes out his phone and takes a photograph of the front of the building.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
"Hey wait up! Save some adventure for meeeeee!"
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
He thinks back, trying to recall what it was.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
"Hao Qieting. Pleased to meet you."
He tries for a relaxed-but-respectful tone, but can't entirely disguise his awe. He's heard many of the same stories Zhi has.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead