milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Anyone wandering the grounds today might hear a faint sound of a harmonica, playing a wistful tune.

And if they look up, they might spot Snufkin, up in a tree, mouth-organ in hand.

Occasionally, he will take a fallen leaf and drop it, letting it flutter to the ground.

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There is a very pale young man, with long dark hair and dark threadbare robes wandering the grounds today, and when he hears the sound of the harmonica, he follows it to the source and peers up into the tree.

Snufkin glances down at the man.

"Hullo there," he calls down.

"That is a very interesting instrument," the man says. "With a sound of metal and longing."

Pause.

"Can it be used for magic?"

Snufkin gives a small smile at the man's description.

"Magic? I don't know about that. But I suppose music is a form of magic, isn't it? It can take you to places unknown, and say things that you can't quite put into words."

"That's true for all music," the man says. "But I meant real magic, the way that -- well, perhaps your world doesn't have that. I am learning."

"Hmm. I have heard of witches and sorcerers in my travels, but I've never met any myself." Maybe one day.

He finally slides down from the tree. "I'm Snufkin, by the way."

"I am honoured to meet you," the young man says, putting his hands together in front of his chest, and bowing to Snufkin. "I'm Wen Ning, courtesy name Wen Qionglin."

Snufkin isn't sure what that means, but is glad to meet him all the same.

"Have you met anyone who makes magic with music, then?"

"Oh yes," Wen Ning says. "The Lan sect makes it their speciality, but my sister can do it as well, and our friend Wei-gongzi has reached unparalleled mastery in musical cultivation, making his flute Chenqing his primary spiritual tool. I'm sure an instrument like yours would come in very handy for musical magic in everyday use, though. Lan-er-gongzi materialising an entire guqin from his magical sleeve and playing chord assassination while levitating in mid-air is sure impressive, but something like that could be used by much more, erm, pedestrian cultivators."

Snufkin has heard of magical hats and brooms, but never magical music. He does admit, the idea is an intriguing one.

"What sort of things can one do with magical music?"

"Question or calm the dead, or, erm, raise them and make them fight," Wen Ning says. This calm little green fellow probably doesn't want to think about the resentful dead fighting battles. "Soothe the souls of the living, help them achieve calm or sleep. Or just bowl them over if they're being aggressive or annoying."

Like that thing Lan-er-gongzi does with his guqin.

Snufkin raises an eyebrow at that.

"I don't think I'd want to tell anyone what to do, much less the dead." He leans back against the tree. "Creatures are meant to be free."

"So if the dead are stuck because they're angry or incomplete, it's a way of asking them about it and telling them to leave," Wen Ning says. "Creatures are meant not to be suffering. But they do, and they're often not free, either."

"Hmm." Snufkin considers this. "That's different, I suppose. It's good to help those that need it."

"It helps those that are stuck in their resentment and can't reincarnate," Wen Ning says, "and it helps the living to not get scared by ghosts."

"Hmmm." Snufkin murmurs thoughtfully. "I've never seen any ghosts myself, though I'd like to, one day."

He turns to Wen Ning. "Is that something you do? Help ghosts with your music?"

"I don't," Wen Ning says. "I'm about as musical as a lump of charcoal. But Wei-gonzi does that; he wakes them up, then lays them down for good."

Snufkin nods. "That's good, that he's able to help them."

He glances down at his harmonica. "I don't know if I'd want to have that kind of power, though. I like my music the way it is."

(Raising the dead would mean being responsible for them. Snufkin isn't responsible for anyone but himself."

"When you have that sort of power, people fear you and spread nasty gossip about you, and suddenly you're the scary story that farmers and artisans scare their kids into obedience with," Wen Ning nods.

Snufkin nods sagely. "Fame is nothing but trouble, in my experience."

"Especially as it turns to infamy far too fast," Wen Ning agrees.

Snufkin glances at him, with a small smile.

"Well, you don't seem all that frightening to me."

"You get it!" Wen Ning declares, delighted. "Because I'm not! I'm just me."

"That's the best thing you can be."

"Oh yes," Wen Ning says. "Thank you. That's not something many people realise. They always want to become something..."

Snufkin nods. "I like being a Snufkin just fine. What about you?"

"I like being me, and staying me," Wen Ning says. "I've become a different version of me a while back, but the main thing is, I can still be with my sister and little A-Yuan and Wei-gongzi, and they like me just the same."

Snufkin smiles, thinking of the Moomins, who let him join in their fun and games as he pleases, and never force him to stay.

"That's good."

Snufkin thinks he rather likes this strange creature as well.

(ooc: want to end it there?)

"It is!" Wen Ning says, nodding with a smile.

[[OOC: Thanks for the thread!]]

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