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⸻ CORONATION FESTIVITIES
𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, swollen && smug in heaven’s cradle. it’s not a celestial body but won mujin that’s looming, cascaded down from somewhere on high to cater to the masses just for a moment. ( how kind, a moment to put people at ease. ) in these uncertain times, the commonalty need the assurance as most flocks of fretting creatures do. who better than him, a fire sage, rooted as a sycamore to the leyline of religion to quell doubt in the celebration? unmistakably so, spotted from the crowd of a thousand donning still the ceremonial garb of the coronation. its shades of crimson and scarlet paint a daunting yet distinctly refined portrait for all eyes to behold, like a beacon amidst the plaza.
mujin is carefully postured as he navigates through, a force of habit, glissading between the throngs of bodies while earnestly granted a wide berth on either side. parting the seas, AS IT WERE. titanic breadth of his title, his reputation, proceeded the presence of his body. ( they move, not him. ) a title large enough to smother the lingering of turmoil, one by one —- at least those who’d make themselves known. a sprinkle of his regard is no sprinkle at all to a starving and restless ear. this, too, he offered with a tender leniency that he so scarcely did. he planted repose in each heart and moved on.
a repose that’s seldom found in the depths of his own, not now. it can’t be quieted so easily, inimitable thing that fixated only on the uncertainty of the future and his place therein. a heart that subsists on BURNING —- rejects all manner of salves && sweet. lucky them. how each platitude churned from the depths of his throat is scorching pyres ‘pon his tongue, emboldening the common folk with a spark from his own body that he dare not keep for himself. they duck their heads, bow their reverence and brighten with smiles. && YET running through the mill of conversational procedure time and time again, there’s one person he’s spotted traipsing outside the live wire of his presence. ( how very funny. )
sans the humor, as mujin found many funny things. not so funny, the way she lingered like a bad idea and stapled her existence just nearby. the scald of sun as witness, emphatic footfalls of the fire sage veer to greet this observer head-on. it’s with no mere modicum of courtesy, flat palm over unyielding fist in customary greeting. ( thorny rose, absolute pleasure to introduce garden glove. ) “ lady jinah, ” suffocating languor dropped to the wayside, warmth awash in the depths of his sentiments. he’ll find the cause yet. “ many welcome your presence today, myself included. have you spared a moment to enjoy the prowess of the bending demonstrations? ”
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