[xiao meimei finds her way easily through the Red on this crisp winter morning, trotting past staff and patrons with a parcel wrapped in red silk paper held neatly between her teeth. once she reaches Huaisang's swanky penthouse suite, she takes care with setting it down, then gives the door a bit of a scrabble-scratch with her forepaws. knock knock!!
and then off she trots, because she has other deliveries to make today.
there is a bit of card stock tucked into the gold ribbon wrapped around the small gift, which reads:]
Huaisang,
I tried to find a good likeness for your caomeimei in the library for the artist to use as a reference. If it is not to your liking, please do let me know, and I will be sure to have it modified to suit your tastes.
You may use this token to gain access to the siheyuan at any time even if neither Er-ge nor myself are at home to let you in. Please know that you are always welcome.
With affection,
δΈε₯ (San-ge)
[the small, lacquered wooden token can easily fit in Huaisang's palm. predictably, it is carved in the likeness of Huaisang's strawberry finch omen, her wings extended in joyous flight. the silken tassel extending from the end is woven from shades of green and silver reminiscent of the Qinghe Nie. at the very end to keep it from fraying are three pale green jade beads.]
[it's a terrible time of year to hope for good natural light--or it would be in the Six Duchies, where Fitz demonstrably isn't anymore, so what does he know? and so he sits where he is instructed within the little living room of his cottage and obediently turns his chin this way or that way until Huaisang finds his pose pleasing. and then, well. then he must simply be still, and watch Huaisang as he arranges his supplies and then settles in to work.
he does quite a bit of watching, dark eyes all softness--consider the screeds of introspective navel-gazing his mind must be subjecting himself to--and whatever he's mulling over must be something.. nice. he drops his eyes down to the floor, then over to where Nighteyes has sprawled himself in a patch of diffuse sunlight through the window. the wolf snores very softly in his dreamless (for now) sleep. Fitz clears his throat and tries to fill the silence with words--to distract himself while he gathers his courage.]
Did you paint portraits often? In your world, I mean.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xiao meimei's exclusive same-day delivery courier service
and then off she trots, because she has other deliveries to make today.
there is a bit of card stock tucked into the gold ribbon wrapped around the small gift, which reads:][the small, lacquered wooden token can easily fit in Huaisang's palm. predictably, it is carved in the likeness of Huaisang's strawberry finch omen, her wings extended in joyous flight. the silken tassel extending from the end is woven from shades of green and silver reminiscent of the Qinghe Nie. at the very end to keep it from fraying are three pale green jade beads.]
gay art time π¨
he does quite a bit of watching, dark eyes all softness--consider the screeds of introspective navel-gazing his mind must be subjecting himself to--and whatever he's mulling over must be something.. nice. he drops his eyes down to the floor, then over to where Nighteyes has sprawled himself in a patch of diffuse sunlight through the window. the wolf snores very softly in his dreamless (for now) sleep. Fitz clears his throat and tries to fill the silence with words--to distract himself while he gathers his courage.]
Did you paint portraits often? In your world, I mean.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)