[ Waters boiling, rivers red. Ash and sulphur and the hard, lung-stripping ache of burn without finish. The eruption.
Its victims, unburied. Forgotten, and it's Wei Ying who makes a quilt of the weave-work of their evidence, Wei Ying who speaks with and unto the dead in their own tongue. The child-rabbit, who borrows the hybrid appearance of the human creature likelier to attract Wei Ying's sympathy, preying on his softened heart.
You know what you know, Wangji does not whisper, but remembers the glint of fear like festive silks, dressing the rabbit whole, like an unholy bride to the inevitability of Wei Ying's instincts to save and shelter. Remember, too, how Bichen was stayed then, before she could truly unsheathe for execution.
And he turns now, back rigid and body only lines, the sum of battle impulses — heated as the tunnels shake and groan, roiling. Ready to strike.
Water, Wei Ying says, and healing. Not locked away in the way of traditional bindings, but secured by the geology of the underground cave. >Distant from the burial rooms. He paces close enough to hover his hand over the exuding warmth of the wall, then — teeth gritting, body prepared for the hiss and the sharp surge of white pain when the burn strikes — rests his palm down. Beneath agony, the pulse of living water, of qi that can only thrive in cleanliness.
Breath laboured, he stands among a wreckage of dust and hot stone, and pivots to face Wei Ying unassuming — only his person and his fresh wounds and the quiet conviction of what must be done. ]
We reunite them. [ As true and indefatigable of a conclusion as the blood that thickens and sheds off his hand. ] Wei Ying. Bichen and talismans may rupture the wall. [ A mechanical deed, not without risk: they sit in labyrinths, without certainty of which wall's upheaval will seduce the ceiling down. ] Do we unleash the waters here, or bring the bones to water?
[ Can they lure so many bodies, mind? Which harm is greater, lesser? And he asks of Wei Ying, but gazes at the rabbit, and gleans too that the creature knows. That it will signal to Wei Ying, its chosen patron, the righteous path. ]
no subject
Its victims, unburied. Forgotten, and it's Wei Ying who makes a quilt of the weave-work of their evidence, Wei Ying who speaks with and unto the dead in their own tongue. The child-rabbit, who borrows the hybrid appearance of the human creature likelier to attract Wei Ying's sympathy, preying on his softened heart.
You know what you know, Wangji does not whisper, but remembers the glint of fear like festive silks, dressing the rabbit whole, like an unholy bride to the inevitability of Wei Ying's instincts to save and shelter. Remember, too, how Bichen was stayed then, before she could truly unsheathe for execution.
And he turns now, back rigid and body only lines, the sum of battle impulses — heated as the tunnels shake and groan, roiling. Ready to strike.
Water, Wei Ying says, and healing. Not locked away in the way of traditional bindings, but secured by the geology of the underground cave. >Distant from the burial rooms. He paces close enough to hover his hand over the exuding warmth of the wall, then — teeth gritting, body prepared for the hiss and the sharp surge of white pain when the burn strikes — rests his palm down. Beneath agony, the pulse of living water, of qi that can only thrive in cleanliness.
Breath laboured, he stands among a wreckage of dust and hot stone, and pivots to face Wei Ying unassuming — only his person and his fresh wounds and the quiet conviction of what must be done. ]
We reunite them. [ As true and indefatigable of a conclusion as the blood that thickens and sheds off his hand. ] Wei Ying. Bichen and talismans may rupture the wall. [ A mechanical deed, not without risk: they sit in labyrinths, without certainty of which wall's upheaval will seduce the ceiling down. ] Do we unleash the waters here, or bring the bones to water?
[ Can they lure so many bodies, mind? Which harm is greater, lesser? And he asks of Wei Ying, but gazes at the rabbit, and gleans too that the creature knows. That it will signal to Wei Ying, its chosen patron, the righteous path. ]