Ellipsa's Online Network

[A weasel starts this transmission, bopping the communicator with an adorably tiny paw. Then, in a whirl of motion and color, he becomes Zhou Zishu, who is smiling with almost as much mischief as the little weasel.]

I've heard that some of you want to become stronger in the new year. I'm ready to teach. Martial arts isn't just about defense; it's about toning the body and balancing the spirit.

If you're interested, let me know.

[A happy bark interrupts him and a fairy dog - that looks like a husky with blue wings - flies overhead.]

I'm out of time! [He laughs and turns back into a weasel, bounding into a pile of snow.]

[Zishu is looking a little rough. Fighting creatures tainted by darkness hasn't gone smoothly. He hisses as he wraps a bandage around his middle, securing it before he addresses the feed.]

Don't let a soft heart stop you from fighting with all of your strength.

[He snorts at himself and then winces.]

Or, better yet, just keep company like this.

[A flower fairy dog - in the shape of a grey and white husky with piercing blue eyes and equally blue wings - licks his cheek and he laughs.]

What should I name him?

Zhou Zishu here and if you need help, don't wait. Things can get serious quickly; you might not get a chance to speak again.

[He is standing in a Winter landscape, the blade of his sword shining sharply, silver against white.]

Even if you face an army, I will come for you. I fear no beast and no man.

[He flicks said sword and with the ease of waving a fan, he decapitates an animated skeleton. The bones crumble to the snow, clicking together.]

[Zishu's camera is focused on a large painting - a tree with blood red blooms springing forth from each branch. Under each bloom he has written in perfect calligraphy the names of those lost. His Master. His brothers. His little sister and her husband. The memorial is vibrant and warm despite its obvious grim purpose.]

How do you remember those lost? [He sets his brush aside and dusts off his hands.] Do you believe in ghosts? I think some people deserve to be haunted. Why should they get to forget their crimes?

Then I feel bad for the ghosts. Could you imagine haunting someone you hate for eternity? Bleh.

[He sticks out his tongue and then snorts, amused.]

I'm curious, how many in our number are aware of martial arts? Are there any who have achieved immortality?

[All of this is asked as Zishu flies - yes flies - over a Wintry landscape without wings. He lands, briefly, on a rooftop, and then leaps back into the open air.]

Considering what is being asked of us and what we might encounter, I was thinking about offering lessons. My experience is surely enough to qualify me, but if you have doubts, I will do my best to dissuade them.

[Laughter tips off this recording, though it's difficult to say where it might originate. Snow surrounds the communicator and the sky is cold and grey above. There doesn't seem to be much joy to be had until...

A tiny weasel hops into view. He nudges the communicator playfully with his nose and then throws himself down on his side, wiggling his legs joyfully.]

Obey me. [Zishu's voice leaves the tiny creature and the ground under the communicator gives an obedient rumble. He laughs again and leaps into the air, bouncing with the rumbles.

Well, really, why shouldn't he enjoy himself?]