Deviation Actions
Literature Text
Shen lowered his head into his wings, breathing heavily. “Wh-why was I so foolish?” he asked himself faintly. He might have sat there like that all night, questioning himself and wracking his brain for answers, but his broodings were interrupted not a minute later by heavy footsteps thudding into his room.
He clutched his blankets around his shoulders, wondering if this was the foretold second ghost. If no, this spirit had none of the quiet finesse of the ghost of winter past; it seemed to be lumbering towards him gracefully, and when he caught a glimpse of its silhouette behind the curtains around his bed mat, he saw that its shape was huge and hulking. Even though his first ethereal visitor had done nothing to harm him physically, he couldn’t help but withdraw fearfully as the shape reached one massive black hand out and parted the curtains, revealing…
…
Shen didn’t even need to stop and think about this one. “And it was at that moment that he saw that the next spirit was…Po!” he announced dramatically.
This brought sizable guffaws and scattered applause from everyone listening to him, except for Po himself. “Whaaa?” he whined. “Why do I have to be dead in the story?!”
“Oh, you’re not dead. That’s just your night job because I’m paying your father so little,” remarked Shen lightly, provoking more laughter.
“Wait a minute,” Lady Biming spoke up. “I think I’ve heard a version of this story before. Isn’t the second ghost supposed to be a giant?”
Shen shrugged. “Well, he’s a giant panda, so it counts.”
“Sure it does.”
…
Shen stared up in confusion at the panda standing over him. Yes, said bear was lacking in finesse, but also looked more fat and fuzzy than intimidating. The illusion of mystery was shattered even further when he proclaimed, “Hey, what’s up…I mean, greetings, mortal!” He attempted to look thundering and serious, but Shen was not impressed.
“Who are you?” demanded the peacock, arching his eyebrows.
“I am the ghost of winter present – skadoosh!” The spirit wiggled his fingers in the air for emphasis. “And I’m here to show you how your actions affect the here and now!”
“You don’t look particularly ghostly,” said Shen, unimpressed.
“Yeah, well, if I wasn’t a ghost…could I do this?” The spirit pointed at the fireplace, and it sprang to life, bathing the room in cheery light. He puffed out his chest. “See? Super cool awesome powers. Now, get your feathered butt out of bed.”
Shen heaved a sigh and extricated himself from his sheets, pushing through the curtains as he followed the spirit. When he saw the transformation that had overtaken his bedchamber, he couldn’t help but gasp. Every corner of the room was now piled high with all sorts of food. It was real food, too; there was a wide variety of delicious-looking dishes, still steaming slightly, at that perfect temperature where the food would warm you up inside without burning your tongue. It seemed like more than he could possibly eat in a lifetime, although he had to admit that it looked delicious.
“What’s all this?” he asked, visibly awestruck.
“Issm foowr awwa harff,” mumbled the spirit, cramming something into his mouth.
“What was that?”
The spirit swallowed hard. “It’s the food of the heart!” he repeated. “The food of generosity, which you have long denied your fellow man.” He looked at Shen hopefully. “Did that sound okay? Cause I was practicing that line all day.”
“And what does this food have to do with the present?” questioned Shen.
“Uhhh…” The spirit grappled for a connection. “I like food metaphors.”
Shen rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, I’m going to show you what will happen tomorrow morning!” The spirit clapped his hands together loudly and exclaimed, “Skadoosh!”
A blinding burst of white light seemed to fly from his hands. Shen winced, squeezing his eyes shut a split second too late. Cool, brisk air tickled at the skin beneath his feathers as he blinked away spots. “Could you give me some warning before you do something like that!”
“Sorry, sorry.” The spirit gestured around them. “But hey, look where we are!”
They had been transported to the poorest part of the village, in front of a run-down building that had once been a restaurant. “Spirit, what are we doing in front of this old shack?” demanded Shen.
“This is the home of your overworked, underpaid employee Mr. Ping,” explained the spirit. “Go look in the window.”
Shen did so, wiping away the condensation fog in order to peer through the glass. Even though on the street it appeared to be night, in the house it was morning already. All of the masters had gathered together inside in order to celebrate the winter feast, along with Mr. Ping and a few unfamiliar children. Their fire kept sputtering from lack of fuel, there weren’t any decorations, and it didn’t even look like they had very much food to eat. But for some reason, everyone in the run-down house looked extremely cheerful.
“Mr. Ping is hosting the feast?” scoffed Shen. “Why is he doing that if he’s so poor?”
“Because he’s so generous that he wants to share what he has with everyone during the holiday,” said the spirit. “Even if he doesn’t have that much to share.”
Inside the house, Mr. Ping was placing a skimpy plate of noodles in the center of the table where all of the masters were seated. They all nodded and bowed appreciatively to their host. “Thank you for having us in your home, Mr. Ping,” stated Master Tigress.
“Oh, it’s no trouble at all!” replied the old goose modestly. “I’m happy to have you!”
“Your noodles look so yummy!” exclaimed a child. “May I have some?”
“You may, in just a moment. We just have to wait for Kurisu to get here…”
“I’m coming, daddy!” called a little girl’s voice. Shen’s head instinctively swiveled towards the sound, and he saw a small blue kitten with a crutch under her arm limping her way downstairs.
…
“Oh no you DIDN’T!” shrieked Kurisu, and Shen felt a sharp tug on his whiskers.
“Ouch!” he snapped, freeing himself and glaring down at the kitten in his lap. “What was that for?!”
“For making me the damsel in distress who doesn’t do anything!” she declared indignantly, crossing her arms.
“Good gods, would you let me finish, Kurisu? If you would just give me a chance, maybe you’d see that you’re more in-character than you think!”
…
“There you are, Kurisu!” Mr. Ping smiled at her, holding out a chair for his adoptive father and helping her into it when her bad leg proved inadequate to the task. She smiled back up at him sweetly, and then, she began to cough.
Mr. Ping’s face immediately became worried. “Oh, Kurisu, sweetheart, take it easy…” He thumped her on the back, his eyebrows creasing in agitation. She managed to repress her last few coughs, looking around with wide, innocent blue eyes.
Shaken, Shen turned to the panda standing behind him. “Spirit, what is wrong with that child?” he asked.
The spirit sighed. “Well, kind of a lot. See, she trains up at the Jade Palace – she wants to become a famous kung fu master and make her family proud. But then she got sick, which took away a lot of her strength. So she broke her leg, and her illness keeps getting worse, because her father doesn’t have enough money to pay for a doctor.”
Shen peered through the window once again, where he saw Kurisu looking eagerly at her meager portion of noodles, not at all disappointed at the amount of food. “I’m so glad that Mr. Shen let you have the day off, Daddy,” she said. Shen felt as if someone had just reached through the glass and punched him in the stomach.
“Wh-what will happen to her?” he asked shakily.
The spirit shrugged. “I’m not sure. After all, I can only see the present. Which reminds me, it’s just about time for me to go. I have to leave you with the third and final spirit…the ghost of winter yet to come.”
“Yet to come? You mean, the future?” Shen’s eyes were still glued to the window, when suddenly the happy family scene on the inside was extinguished like a candle, leaving nothing but a solid wall of blackness. “What?! Where did they go?” He turned around sharply on his talons, only to find that he was alone on the street, and that the street itself was rapidly disintegrating into mist. “Spirit…!”
