[There's food and Ling has been miserably crawling around in the woods for who knows how long - it could be an hour or five, it could be ten minutes, regardless: he's going to eat this whole house. Is it dangerous? Probably! Why would a house be made out of sugar!
But he's most definitely sitting on the ground with half of a door frame lined with gumdrops and some other pieces of candy house siding (huge slabs of chocolate? whatever) sitting in his lap, and he is eating it all. Surely a young man of this relative size and shape cannot eat that much pure sugar and garbage, but he's doing it. He gets overzealous reaching over to pull more of the house's candy siding off and stick it in his mouth, such that he turns to the side a moment later to spit it out. Hm!]
Grass... [Okay now he has to pick dirt and crap off his delicious snack, then he's back to shoving pure sugar into his face. Eventually he'll look up and, with his mouth full—]
Oh, do you want some?
[let's fight and/or make out, these will both go well]
II. yall remember blo pens, now that was a color mistake
[Or: another prompt where Ling is still eating, and seriously lamenting because it seems like each time he brings a piece of food to his mouth, it turns gray and crumbles into inedible, dusty chunks in his hands. This is the fourth sandwich he's attempted to make and eat, and he's starting to look a little worse for wear.
Like, actually. At this point he's gone from sitting at a table to lying on the ground with some slices of bread and a tomato he's staring at, waiting for it to betray him like every other piece of food here. He reaches out to poke it... and there it goes, turning into garbage. He puts his head down on the ground.]
So hungry... Please, spare me some real food. [That's you he's reaching out toward, at also the exact moment his gray shirt comes to life in the worst way.]
IV. skippable fight cutscene
[yall fighting birds is not my strong suit, anyway
You ever see a man brood over a coloring book? Because that's what Ling's doing now, sitting and flipping pages in his custom book. Some he flips too fast to catch what the drawing is supposed to be, but rest assured, they are all very red. (Thankfully not all of that red is blood, necessarily—)
Either way, he looks much more serious than he did when he was wheezing about starving on the ground, but after a while he simply closes the book in his lap and sits back with a sigh. Hmm. Hmm.]
Isn't it funny, how someone out there thinks a reminder is necessary?
[Like come the fuck on, he hasn't forgotten any of the worst mistakes he's ever managed. Come on!!!]
ling yao | fma