001 . dreamland
the sun leaves a trail of disaster in it's wake
Liu grasps the side of his chin as he stares out the window, twirling a strand of pure white hair on his finger. Oftentimes he will follow this routine, his eyes dancing among the light blue sky above and far from the boring classes that they insist upon in the Academy. They are incredibly monotonous, and Liu can't help but long for his grandfather's familiar way of teaching. Here, the teachers find it their duty to make him recite and memorize and twist his brain in far too many ways, and sometimes Liu will just sigh, return to what he was doing and look out the window. Like he is doing now, it does give him a considerably large amount of entertainment - that is, compared to the math work that they force upon him.
Then again, the fighting classes and extracurricular classes are a whole different thing entirely. He finds the cooking classes intensely interesting - Liu has learned much more about cooking than he ever knew. The last class he learned how to make kimchi, his eyes stinging and apron splattered with an obscenely large amount of red. Liu swears he's never made anything like it, nor has he ever tasted anything like it before. Kimchi is his new favorite dish in the world - with the comfortable but not too uncomfortable spiciness and the healthiness of the dish. Well. Liu can't quite complain - though the unhygienic way it's made worries him, gloves relieve the worries and he's quite happy, indeed, after procuring a gigantic bowl of pickled cabbage. It is incredibly amusing how food can relieve him of all doubts and annoyances, and when he's cooking, it's like he's in another world. He feels the love for cooking, he really does - and though sometimes he will hear complaints and moaning from the other students, cooking is the one subject within which he won't snap back at them. Liu hates complainers. So. ********. Much.
Other than that, fighting classes make him wary. He has yet to choose a real weapon, though his deer-horn knives are most likely going to be his final choice. They incorporate defensive actions and somehow translate them into offensive as well, and that's pretty much all Liu can really hope for. The professors have told him that his instinctive reactions and natural talent are undeniable, but he needs to somehow change them into an offensive attack. But Liu. Has. No. Ability. He's tried to convince them time and time again, but the professors seem content on telling him that he'll come through one day. Liu doubts it. Fighting is an incredibly mysterious enigma and most definitely not something he has ever been able to get the handle of.
"Jing Liu, why did Mao Dong find it his responsibility to call Dang In back?" The professor calls lazily from his desk, obviously sure the boy wouldn't be able to answer. Liu shruggs absent-mindedly and coughs as the rest of the students giggle. Rolling his eyes, he shoots a large grin at them and they giggle some more - really, people are confusing sometimes. But he is able to adjust himself, sort of, and adjust himself to act like them. It comes almost naturally.
nobody shall escape ; not from this devastation
NOBLE . jing liu
