catch-all for shang qinghua.

[selfimmolates]

Comments

[nosediving]

So we should look out for each other. If we don't, who will?

[selfimmolates]

Myself, for one.

[nosediving]

But you're . . .

[covered in feathers and sparkles.]

[selfimmolates]

What?

[nosediving]

[never mind.]

Ah . . . nothing.

[selfimmolates]

That's what I thought.

[mrrrgh.

before he does anything else, though, he's going to retrieve his rifle and bow & arrows from where he's stashed them. don't mind the armed twelve-year-old, shang qinghua.]

[nosediving]

[uh.

bow and arrows, okay. but when his gaze lands on the rifle, he can't help but to blurt out a question.]

What . . . is that?

[selfimmolates]

A gun. Geez, how many of you here have never seen one...?

[nosediving]

A gun. What does it . . . do?

[selfimmolates]

Fire bullets. [a beat.] Projectiles.

[nosediving]

I am curious to know what these bullets look like. Would you be able to show me?

[selfimmolates]

[he blinks.]

Bit of a weird request.

[nosediving]

I-is it?

There are many devices that I don't recognize in this temple. Several kind participants have taught me on their functions. Is it wrong to be curious about something that does not exist in my world?

[selfimmolates]

I'd think the average person isn't curious about weaponry.

[nosediving]

Average?

Ahem . . . My name is Shang Qinghua. Back in my world, I handle logistics for the Twelve Peaks.

While I do not dabble in weaponry, knowledge, as they say, is power. A weapon does not have to stay a weapon. The engineering genius behind a piece of equipment can give rise to something new—and in this case, perhaps something safer as well.

[selfimmolates]

[wow. you know how much he cares about shang qinghua's title?

not at all.

but fine. after staring for a moment, he wordlessly fetches a bullet cartridge and tosses it at him.]

I'll be expecting that back.

[nosediving]

OH GOD HE'S GOT BULLETS AFTER ALL

[nosediving]

[oh, he wasn't expecting to be given the bullets so much as shown. with a clumsy step forward, he raises both palms to catch the cartridge, which misses him by a mile and lands in front of his toes. taking a second step to balance himself, he kicks the cartridge another ten inches away before he hastily bends down to pick it up, then cradles it like a precious child in his arms.

o-oops.]

Thank you, young man! I'll return it to you shortly.

[selfimmolates]

You're not walking away with it, for the record. And don't kick it.

[nosediving]

Of course, of course. My apologies.

[to show his good faith, he finds a perch on the nearest surface and all but paws at all the surfaces of the cartridge. he seems to quickly think better of this ineffectual method, standing up and walking over to ray.]

I do not understand . . . Could you explain the design?

[selfimmolates]

... Not sure if I want to be explaining to someone how to make bullets here.

[nosediving]

[looking deeply puzzled, he shakes his head.]

Not how to make it. The shape is rather similar to that of a dart's, but there are no wings. How does it go airborne, then?

[selfimmolates]

[...

jan sucks and knows nothing so have an explanation of how guns work.]

[nosediving]

[deeply moved by jan's expert explanation, shang qinghua returns the cartridge to ray.]

Truthfully, it'll be difficult to find another use for this mechanism outside of what you've described to me: My understanding is too rudimentary. But the basics you've provided are the most important, and I swear that I will one day put this knowledge to good use.

[selfimmolates]

Define "good use".