Traditional Chinese Colours This is a list of colours used in ancient China for clothing. Colour combinations for Hanfu are hard to come by, but the rules for combining colours are probably much less strict than those of Heian Japan. The names tend to also have somewhat of a poetic slant to them, most of them reflecting colours seen in nature. It was quite difficult to translate the names, as the original meanings of some cannot be directly expressed in English, so I decided just to do a very literal translations of them. Some colours I just used their western names because the Chinese name is too hard to translate, whereas for others that don't even have western names I just put down the general idea (ex. 黛 doesn't really mean "navy-black". It's just easier to differentiate them that way because 黛, 漆, 墨, 黑, 缁, and 黝 all mean black).
I posted this on a forum a few months back, but I think it's more fitting to put it here.
James T. Kirk, captain of the USS Enterprise, sighed happily and curled up into his chair. There was no ceremony to his actions now, no obvious show of bravado and none of the usual Kirkisms that many are so familiar with. After all, as much of a captain as he is, he needed his downtime. "This is the life," he said, lolling his head to the side so he could look at his partner. "Well, not exactly THE life, but it'd be nice to stay here when I retire."
Spock glanced up from his position on the floor, a quilt spread across his lap. He gave Kirk an incredulous look. Kirk was so acquainted with it, though, that he could almost deduce at what angle the half-Vulcan's eyebrows were positioned even without looking too closely. "It's difficult to believe that you would ever subject yourself to a quiet, understated lifestyle such as this."
"Hey, it's not that hard to believe! You like it too!" he retorted, suddenly awake. He peered at the thing Spock was working on. This time, Kirk was the one giving his first officer strange looks. "What's that?" he asked. "I didn't know you liked sewing."
Kirk lifted himself off from the comfortable position he was in with a groan, giving one last look at the inviting leather recliner before shifting his full attention to Spock's quilt. As much as he wanted to just fall asleep on the recliner, his overwhelming curiosity overrode his sleepiness.
Sitting down cross-legged across from Spock, he lifted a part of the quilt, scrutinizing it. "I don't get this," he said, running a finger along the neat, almost machine-like stitches.
"Don't get what?" Spock asked offhandedly, brows furrowed deeply in concentration.
Kirk gestured at the quilt. "Well, this. You're like -", he paused, thinking of ways to properly word his sentence, "You're like the ideal housewife from the 19th century. Or something." When Spock didn't react, he quickly continued with a "I don't mean it in an offensive way, Spock. It's a good thing you know, being artistically and domestically inclined. I mean, I wish I had the talent for this too and -" he stopped his nonsensical blabbering when Spock raised a hand to silence him.
Spock sighed. "It's fine, captain." He lifted the quilt for Kirk to see, at once embarrassed and proud of his work. To him, it wasn't good enough... but he was a perfectionist after all. Being satisfied with imperfection would be illogical. "This helps me feel closer to my human mother. She was always so eager to mend my clothes, though her chances were few and far in between." He regarded his work with a bit of melancholic nostalgia. "It was something she was proud of."
The captain listened closely, knowing how much Spock regretted not showing his affection to his mother. He held the quilt gently, his eyes lowered as he traced the details with a finger. "I'm sure she'd be proud of your work too."
Spock looked at him for a moment, then smiled and went back to work.
His square toed shoes clicked loudly on the wooden floor as he entered the ballroom. All eyes seemed to settle on him at that moment, and he smiled stiffly at the less than pleasant glances he received before turning to the attendant at the side and handing him his coat and top hat. Now free of the constraints of the tailored coat, he sighed tiredly and ran his hand through his oiled hair.
Why he even agreed to come tonight he didn't even know. There were business prospects here, yes, but he was never fond of socializing with the elite and even less fond of the thought of having to please the cold shouldered ladies of that class. Mr. Urban had asked, however, and he couldn't find the heart to turn the man down. He had just met the older man the day before at the Rotunde where his products were being exhibited to the general public, and already Mr. Urban had taken to calling him by his first name. If he didn't know any better, he would never have assumed that Mr. Urban was a member of the gentility, given his gruff demeanor and his strange friendliness - but fortunately, he had meticulously studied the families of the upper class and was able to identify the man at first glance.
Turning, he was about to leave when Mr. Urban descended upon him, slapping his back merrily and almost causing him to spill his wine. "Zachary! Why are you so late?" he asked, almost too loudly. Zachary winced, then replied with a poisonous "and where were you, Mr. Urban?". The older man, however, had already turned his attention away from Zachary and was enthusiastically waving at someone. Much to his derision, the one Mr. Urban was waving at was the obnoxious blond.
Mr. Urban looked at Zachary amusedly. "This is someone who might interest you, Zachary. I'm sure he could help with your business, especially that fascinating steam powered vehicle you designed," Mr. Urban offered helpfully in the moments before the blond man joined them. The mischievious look on Mr. Urban's face did nothing but unsettle him, but if this indeed was someone who would support his work, he would just have to make the best out of it.
"Good evening, Karl. Who is this?", the blond asked, interjecting his thoughts.
"This good man here is Zachary Quinto. I met him at the Weltausstellung - he has the most fascinating collection of vehicles which I'm sure you've seen, and - " the blond man held up a hand, silencing Mr. Urban.
"Wait, so you are suggesting I should lend my support to a member of the," he gestured at Zachary, "nouveau riche?" The blond looked pointedly at Zachary. "I don't know what you're looking for or why you are here, but I refuse to have anything to do with your kind," he said with a sneer, "you should learn what your place in society is and stay there."
Zachary raised an eyebrow and gave Mr. Urban an incredulous look. "So this is the person you wanted to introduce me to?", he asked, "this... overindulgent, egocentric child?".
Mr. Urban's face fell as the blond retorted. "And what of you, you dirty pig? You're not even fit for a servant!" he said, his face reddening from anger.
"Christopher, please!" Mr. Urban said as he steered the blond man out of the room into a darkened hallway, "I must apologize, Zachary, he is not usually like this - I don't even - ".
Christopher interrupted loudly. "Get out, you uncultured intruder! Karl, I thought better of you - but you're no better than those rascals!".
Zachary, who had somehow managed to hold his anger all this time finally snapped, and he roughly grabbed the impertinent man's collar whilst pushing away the concerned Mr. Urban. "Mr. Urban, I will handle it from here," Zachary said quietly, his barely restrained contempt seeping through. Mr. Urban was about to protest, but Zachary's dangerous glare was enough to send him scrambling back into the bright ballroom.
Now alone, Zachary loosened his cravat, breathing heavily from his previous outburst. Christopher was shocked, but he refused to show it to the dark haired man in front of him. "What, out of breath already? You're even less impressive than I thought," he said, taunting Zachary. Zachary clenched his fists. "How did you even manage to get this far? For all I know, your mother was most likely some harlot. Maybe she slept her way into riches? Or - ", Christopher didn't get to finish, as fist after fist slammed into his face. Zachary didn't care if he ruined the image he built up meticulously over the years, didn't even care if his clothes were all askew and dirtied by flecks of blood. All he could see now was Christopher's face, and he so desired to destroy it.
Christopher gasped in pain, quickly holding up his arms to block the punches. Growling, he retaliated, managing to throw Zachary off balance and into a large glass vase. The vase shattered beneath Zachary's weight, and he screamed as the shards dug into his flesh. That didn't stop him, however. A painful rush of andrenaline propelled him towards Christopher, and he tackled Christopher to the ground, slamming his arm down onto the blond's throat. Christopher struggled to breathe, his arms flailing about until he managed to knee Zachary in the stomach with all of the force he could muster. Zachary stumbled backwards, but managed to catch his footing. Tearing off his vest, he flung the glass crusted fabric at Christopher. His wounds were now bleeding openly, staining his carefully pressed shirt into a deep red. The younger man only just managed to avoid getting blinded by the small pieces of glass, but his face and body was cut in several places. He let out a shaky breath and licked his bruised lips, tasting the sharp tang of blood. "Is that the best you can do?" he asked brokenly, the pain getting to him. He may have lost the physical fight, but he refused to lose the verbal one.
Zachary pounced on the younger man, ready to deliver another blow when he noticed in horrid fascination that Christopher's cock was erect. "You sick fuck," he snarled at the blond. Delirious from the anger and the fighting, he said something that would even surprise himself. "If you like it so much, I'll make it so that you won't be able to face the world again, you shameless whore." He grabbed Christopher's neck, squeezing it tightly before throwing the blond into the broken shards of glass where the vase once stood. Instinctively bracing himself for the fall, Christopher howled in pain as his arms crashed into the sharp glass. Within seconds, he found himself pinned underneath the older man, the glass crackling under their combined weight. Christopher gritted his teeth, desperate to get away from the predator.
His writhing only managed to smear their blood across the floor and illicit a growl from Zachary. The dark haired man pulled Christopher's clothes off roughly, ripping the expensive fabric and thoroughly destroying his dignity. This time, he was the one doing the taunting - touching and probing every inch of the younger man's body. Zachary paused suddenly, watching Christopher as he sucked two of his fingers. He waited until the younger man mewled in confusion and anticipation before thrusting his fingers into him without warning. Christopher yelled and begged for him to stop, but this only aroused Zachary even more. He continued his administrations, reveling in Christopher's groans until he himself could no longer stand it. When he finally pulled his fingers out, Christopher was already in a dazed state, body flushed from excitement.
In one swift motion, Zachary entered the younger man, causing him to gasp loudly. Christopher jolted from the force, his rear feeling as if it was on fire. Before Christopher could adjust to it, Zachary pulled out entirely, pausing for a second before slamming into him once again, increasing the rhythm as he went on. The blond was now clawing desperately at the floor, alternating between pleasured moans and pained yelping. Zachary wrapped a hand around Christopher's cock, pumping it faster and faster as he came close to his own release. Christopher was now reduced to a quivering mess, biting his lips to prevent himself from screaming any louder.
Then, as suddenly as it began, it ended.
Christopher's entire body wracked as he tried desperately to stop himself from buckling. His head was dizzy from what had just transpired, but he somehow managed to flip himself over onto a section of the floor not covered in glass and blood. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Too soon, he felt a loss of body heat by his side, and he cracked open an eye to see Zachary nonchalantly dressing himself in his dirty, tattered clothes. He would have laughed at the sight if his whole body wasn't so unbearably sore.
"Where're you going?" he asked, his voice throaty and raw. The older man didn't reply, and the air hung heavily around them. After looking at him for several awkward seconds, Zachary turned and left without a word.
Christopher exhaled quietly, finally wondering if anyone in the ballroom had heard them. After all, they had been quite... loud. He grinned idiotically to himself in spite of the pain.
Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. "Whoa," was all Karl said at the bloodied floor and Christopher. "You can act more surprised, you know?" the blond said, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Karl gave him a look. "You're going to pay for this too, right? I can't have you fucking up my house all the time."
Christopher waved him off. "Yeah, yeah. I will," he muttered, "By the way Karl, do you mind bandaging me up? It hurts." Karl sighed.
"Damn it, Christopher. I'm a businessman, not a doctor."
Last night my brother and my mom decided they wanted to watch the Perseids, and being the astronomy nut that I am, I chose to stop studying for a bit so I could go with them. It was 1:30 AM and I needed a break. Before heading up to SFU to watch the meteor shower, though, we went for a late night snack at a really stereotypically Canadian Chinese restaurant (also the only kind of restaurant that would be open until 2 AM - other than some fast food joints and Knight and Day). The food in general wasn't great, but the congee was good and that's really all that matters. I usually hate congee and I still ate it.
So then we headed up to SFU, realized there were lights everywhere, and went to Burnaby Mountain Park (which was on the same mountain anyway, haha). When we got there, there were many people already. Obviously, we're not the only crazy people.
It was nice to stare at the stars and just forget about everything else for the moment. It isn't anywhere near as pretty as the Leonids which usually peak around November 18 (my birthday, which makes it all the more special for me), but then again, the Leonids tend to fluctuate between hundreds upon thousands per minute to long periods of... nothing. The Perseids are much more stable.
We went home at around 3:20 AM and I collapsed in my bed until now, and now I'm behind on my studying schedule.
Anyway! Meme-time, because I like to procrastinate for even longer than I should.
Leave a comment and I will:
1) tell you why I friended you, 2) associate you with something - fandom, a song, a color, a photo, etc., 3) tell you something I like about you, 4) tell you a memory I have of you, 5) ask something I've always wanted to know about you, 6) tell you my favorite user pic of yours, 7) in return, you must post this in your LJ
I personally did not wake up at 5 AM to watch the live broadcast of the Opening Ceremonies (and I can't watch it until after my final on the 14th), but I'm still immensely proud of my fellow Chinese for pouring their hearts into making this the best Olympics ever.
From what I've heard so far, it's been spectacular. Anyone watched it and can share some thoughts?
YOU GUYS. Remember how I posted about Keanu Reeves and a movie being filmed at my university? Almost every scene from the beginning is a shot from SFU.
I have a midterm in a few hours, and I'm not too confident about it. That said, it's Kat's birthday today, so it should at least warrant some celebration.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY KAT!
Thanks for being such a great friend, katabulous. I hope you have a great day!
That, and good food. It was worth sitting till my back hurt. The chicken was much better than any I've had at hotels thus far, though for food in general, I have to say the Four Seasons is still better (steaaaaak). But yes, I have a better impression of Hyatt now. And no, I don't only think of food when I go to networking events.
Okay, maybe a little. Or a lot.
Anyway, Ron Bertram gave away a Wii Fit after his speech. I didn't get it, but it's fine because I have one already, ha! Admittedly, Japanese is not the easiest to read when it comes to medical stuff, it's good practice. But I digress. It's a great game and I hope she enjoys it. She seemed pretty excited about it.
Amrita Sondhi of Movement Global helped found Lululemon, which I thought was pretty cool. Movement Global has reversible clothes, so maybe that'd be even better. I have to check it out soon.
Dan Heath was probably the best speaker. I wanted to buy his book, but unfortunately I didn't have much money. Oh well. No signature for me. =(
I got some business cards, so I have to contact the companies soon just to say hello. A representative from BC Liquor wanted to contact us about recruitment. I hope she sends us something, because she didn't give me a card, and only asked for one. Thinking of contacts, I hate filling in the Contacts Database, but I brought it upon myself because I put too many categories in it to fill out. I like being organized though even if it doesn't seem like it (my room is an absolute mess).
I found a bunch of business books in our home "library" to use as reference for future workshops. Fun times reading all of those.
Last night I went to my aunt's for a Pre-Mother's Day Dinner and played Rockband with my cousin. Tonight we went for the real Mother's Day Dinner at a Chinese Restaurant on Lougheed Highway. It wasn't too bad, just very... MSGish.
My brother also came back last night, so everything's fine and dandy. I'm trying to get him to buy me Twilight Princess. Or Super Mario Galaxy. We also baked today. I made THE perfect sponge cake! I'll share the recipe later, it's amazing.
Tomorrow I have school, SMA General Meeting and a Marketing in Focus meeting. ARRRRGH D:
![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
