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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 7:49 pm
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All was quiet in the area, something quite strange for the clans. Sure it was early morning, but there was another reason for the quiet. Everyone was gone, called away by Medea for some sort of mission. Ying and Jing stayed behind to "guard the clans."
Of course, all that really meant was more free time to work on their pieces. Ying had all the pieces in front of her; fabric, threads, needles. Things they'd managed to scrap together. After all, people needed their clothing repaired, needed new clothing. They'd lost everything, so creating was important.
Jing was, of course, asleep. Ying had woken up earlier than him today. Tea was boiled, leaves sitting gently on the top of the water in the teacups. She sat idly sipping for a time until her patience gave out.
With a groan, she stood up and stomped to their tent, the only living space they had at the moment. He was there, of course, positively snoring away on the mat. "Get up," she urged.
If he didn't wake up, she had fingers for tickling and hands to smack him with a pillow.
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Posted: Mon Oct 29, 2012 2:24 pm
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Posted: Wed Nov 07, 2012 4:31 pm
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Even though Jing knew his sister was the elder, he often enjoyed the moments when the ages between them reversed. But as his light airy chuckles danced in the afternoon sun, he too sobered up and began the quiet, thoughtful work of collecting ones appearance.
The wash basin next to the sink had clear, pristine water in it, the water lapped at his face in its cool embrace as he washed up. Is was tranquil as drops fell back into the bowl, the boil was entranced with the dance of liquid as the ripples formed and bounced from side to side, and then again as it met the ripples of other drops.
With hygine done and finally out of the way, the boil came out into the main part of the tent, brushing his hair as he sat at the table and watched his sister fuss at her hair.
"All that grumbling will just give you wrinkles, dear sister." he mused loudly while gently holding the fresh tea and inhaling its sweet aroma.
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 12:24 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 1:49 pm
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Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2012 2:35 pm
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"Low. FEAR. Pressure." Jing insisted again before exhaling all the stress and inhaling sweet air, and its intangible chi. (hurr hurr) Not this time Ying, not this time. The lopsided pout on the horseman's face spoke volumes of how displeased he was with the state of the garment. "Tut tut, this poor thing only wanted to be worn, not soiled and tattered like this." he moaned to himself as he picked up the shawl with great care to his own workbench.
The little corner in the tent that Jing called his own. The spools of thread sat in nice, neat little columns in his basket, arranged just so, that the colors cascaded in harmonious tones. the little pincushion that was sewn in his elders sisters image held all of his needles and pins, varying in width and type. He always smiled when he noted the two giant knitting needles sticking out of the pincushions head, like little antennas. Clasps, zippers, velcro and buttons nested there in little containers on a rack, waiting for their turn to be used, but this time it was a simple mending job.
The boil smoothed out the fabric gingerly on the well worn wooden table as he pouted at his sister. "What did those brutes do it, chew it?" he asked aloud. The wrap had seen much better days in his opinion, but thats why they were brought in for repair he figured.
and kept tokens in their little joint bank account.
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Posted: Sun Dec 02, 2012 8:32 pm
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Ying smiled as Jing huffed and harumphed about his tattered headdress. Honestly, the damage wasn't as bad as he hyperbolized it to be, but she just let him grump about. It didn't bother her, and as long as he finished on schedule, she didn't care. They needed the tokens.
"You sound like an old man, cursing the leaves that fall, but not the tree they fall from," she said, laughing quietly to herself and covering the giggles with a hand.
She sat herself across the table from Jing, which was actually quite a few feet considering all the materials and tools that covered the table. "At least you get something you like," Ying said, hefting the enormous fur mantle. "Why is it our death brethren like their furs so much?"
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