Ricki Tarr (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-05-12 10:09 pm
rickitikitarr) wrote2015-05-12 10:09 pm
5. voice
[Ricki has been passed over in this week's event- he isn't nearly trustworthy enough for the powers this week to have to begun to reflect his way. So, in the absence of any other mayhem or hysteria, it's been sort of a dragging week for him.
His answer had been to ensconce himself firmly in one of the library back rooms, and to tear his way voraciously through another shelf of the history section. Which leads, quite late one evening, to him activating his feed to explain, in the hushed tones most appropriate for the small hours of the night;]
Some time in the early 1600s in Japan, a young woman had a rather illicit relationship with a Chinese pirate lord. The unlikely pair had a son who they christened Zhèng Chénggōng.
[His accent is so adept as to be potentially noteworthy.]
Our story finds him in the waters between Xiamen and Taiwan. At that time, Xiamen was a young port city, whose traded goods included silver, imported from Spain into China. This trade route was a ripe target for local pirates, in particular, for some reason, the Dutch. They snuck their boats in among the myriad of little islands at the mouth of the Nine Dragons, the Mekong River, or Cửu Long, we called it, where I was growing up. Zhèng Chénggōng, also known as Koxinga, succeeded in fighting about the nastiest kind of warfare you can imagine, for that era. The battles were nasty, but eventually the Dutch fled Taiwan, and the man himself had accomplished this while embroiled in some of the ugliest dynastic struggle imaginable.
A Ming loyalist, he had narrowly survived his own father's terrible betrayal to the Qing family- which I believe, though I haven't been able to ascertain this as being completely true- ended with his father's imprisonment and the then-Emperor being thrown into a well. Zhèng established a small province in the South of Taiwan, where his family held the territory for a little over twenty years, until some business with an illegitimate heir resulted in too much political instability, and the little province was reabsorbed into Taiwan proper.
Oh, here it is- it is rumoured that Koxinga's death was the result of a sudden fit of madness. He had ordered his guards to execute his son. The young man had apparently had an affair with a wet-nurse... of some relative or another, it isn't specific, and when he was disobeyed, Koxinga flew into the sort of rage that could stop a man's heart. He was only thirty seven. That's what one source says; the other just bluntly states malaria.
There was a statue of Koxinga in Xiamen when I was there last, though it may very well be torn down by now. I remember seeing the stonework, but never being aware of the proper story.
[And, now he is, and so is anyone else up late and listening on this drowsy, slow-drifting spacey night.]
It was whispered to me then, somewhat illicitly, that the man had been raised by freed Muslim slaves, and may have practiced that faith in secret, though the books all mention Confucianism.
I do wonder.
[He always feels most imaginative during the very witching hour of night.]
His answer had been to ensconce himself firmly in one of the library back rooms, and to tear his way voraciously through another shelf of the history section. Which leads, quite late one evening, to him activating his feed to explain, in the hushed tones most appropriate for the small hours of the night;]
Some time in the early 1600s in Japan, a young woman had a rather illicit relationship with a Chinese pirate lord. The unlikely pair had a son who they christened Zhèng Chénggōng.
[His accent is so adept as to be potentially noteworthy.]
Our story finds him in the waters between Xiamen and Taiwan. At that time, Xiamen was a young port city, whose traded goods included silver, imported from Spain into China. This trade route was a ripe target for local pirates, in particular, for some reason, the Dutch. They snuck their boats in among the myriad of little islands at the mouth of the Nine Dragons, the Mekong River, or Cửu Long, we called it, where I was growing up. Zhèng Chénggōng, also known as Koxinga, succeeded in fighting about the nastiest kind of warfare you can imagine, for that era. The battles were nasty, but eventually the Dutch fled Taiwan, and the man himself had accomplished this while embroiled in some of the ugliest dynastic struggle imaginable.
A Ming loyalist, he had narrowly survived his own father's terrible betrayal to the Qing family- which I believe, though I haven't been able to ascertain this as being completely true- ended with his father's imprisonment and the then-Emperor being thrown into a well. Zhèng established a small province in the South of Taiwan, where his family held the territory for a little over twenty years, until some business with an illegitimate heir resulted in too much political instability, and the little province was reabsorbed into Taiwan proper.
Oh, here it is- it is rumoured that Koxinga's death was the result of a sudden fit of madness. He had ordered his guards to execute his son. The young man had apparently had an affair with a wet-nurse... of some relative or another, it isn't specific, and when he was disobeyed, Koxinga flew into the sort of rage that could stop a man's heart. He was only thirty seven. That's what one source says; the other just bluntly states malaria.
There was a statue of Koxinga in Xiamen when I was there last, though it may very well be torn down by now. I remember seeing the stonework, but never being aware of the proper story.
[And, now he is, and so is anyone else up late and listening on this drowsy, slow-drifting spacey night.]
It was whispered to me then, somewhat illicitly, that the man had been raised by freed Muslim slaves, and may have practiced that faith in secret, though the books all mention Confucianism.
I do wonder.
[He always feels most imaginative during the very witching hour of night.]
private
[But;]
And then maybe a gun, if you think it's a good idea.
private
Sounds like I better hear what's on your mind, first.
private
[First and foremost.]
Re: private
I've never had a drink with him but I've seen him around, yeah.
private
Re: private
[He pulls a face--it's a bit too much like the roving gangs back home for his tastes. They're a can of theater paint away from this turning into a Gotham special.]
You have any idea who he might've pissed off? Who he was friends with a month ago, who keeps their distance now?
private
[He normally knows how to trace those patterns, but this system of communication feels deeply, terribly un-intuitive.]
Re: private
There's always bugging his room.
[Which should not be such an easy solution for a warden, he thinks, but fuck it. He can't tell Ricki to just pat Jimmy's head until he's comfortable enough to confide.]
You ever done a stake out? [He suspects you have, Ricki Tarr. Go ahead, try to lie.]
private
[He's not even going to try to pretend he hasn't. He's just going to dismiss the idea as totally out of hand.]
Lounging at the same intersection of hallway for the better part of a week? These are spaced out.
Re: private
With tech, mostly. Which'll be harder to get around here but not impossible.
But look, why do you think he's not talking about who's doing this? 'Cause there's a good chance he'll just get pissed off if we help him. [A shrug] I don't mind someone bein' mad at me for bruising their ego by lending a hand, but he's your friend.
private
[A grin. It was in there somewhere, all along.]
He doesn't want an intervention. He wants to take care of it on his own.
Re: private
[Ultimately he has no problem lending out a gun. He hates that the inmates here are so often defenseless. But guns, of course, have their own set of concerns.]
Are you sure he's a faster draw and a better shot than the other guy?
private
I don't know him all that well, and I've been wrong before, but I'd bet good money that he doesn't mean to do anything vengeful or stupid. On the other hand, I don't know who the other person is, and I don't know how well Jimmy's reading the situation, if he thinks this will end that smoothly.
Re: private
[He thinks a moment, clucks his tongue.]
I can lend him a pistol. If you think he's really not pulling your leg about this, I'm okay with whoever's robbing him learning a tough lesson if it comes to that. And if there's no blood shed, even better.
But I really like this gun, so I'm gonna want it back next port.
private
private
private
[A wry little grin.]
It was the Cold War. A lot of things needed moving around back then.
private
Anyone backed down yet, where you're from?
private
[There are a few good years left yet.]
Re: private
[He considers that, nods.]
If you run across a man called Al'Ghul, ask him to teach you a thing or two. Word of advice.
private
private
But he also trains some of the best clandestine folk in the world.
private
[Purely, curiously impressed, like he wants not to be but can't help wanting to know more. Ricki's strength is the undersell. He never lays it on too thick.]
private
You deal with gun runners, then you can't be too prepared, can you?
private
[A little bit of a grin.]
Re: private
Re: private