weifinder: (pains | running out of time)
Wei Ying (魏婴) | Wei Wuxian (魏无羡) ([personal profile] weifinder) wrote in [personal profile] downswing 2022-02-01 05:34 am (UTC)

( Water retrieved, set back behind him on the ground, having failed to catch at where he'd hung it before, water and the weight of consideration and preparation not always within his grasp. Clean water, a luxury he knows, and cannot look away from, having worried over the stains, the cloying, clotting abscess of water steeped in suffering. Such as the waters below, salted as it is, added to with tears of desperation, hope, and betrayal. )

The most alone, Lan Zhan, or the loneliest?

( A soft question from lips that smile without mirth, and a sinking in the pit of his stomach, words and fears left years ago in the lap of his shijie rolling back, weighing down on his lungs. Not the time for it, now, and he breathes, breathes in uncertainty and subtle shift of sky and cloud and the hint of light within, breathes out the coiling shadows, and inhales them again. Dark, silken, and acrid, like the scent around them, like Lan Zhan's hair.

He wants to crack his fingers open, spread them wide, stroke them caressingly down and over Lan Zhan's crown, the side of his head, toward the ends of his hair; he wants, for that moment, and he shoves it under, eyes lifting from Lan Zhan back to the waters being swallowed again by fog, amnesiatic and condemning.

Anchor him, and anchor Lan Zhan, staring out. It's a thought with more clarity than what he stares into, and he reaches for Lan Zhan, but doesn't know what to do with his hands that he hasn't already. Presses close, without hemming in. Peace. No peace. Hold steady.
)

The way Lily and the rest spoke of it, Master Zenobius acted under compulsion. The sirens, too, act under compulsion of some kind, have you observed that? These poor people...

( He looks out with eyes that see the intangible, and he thinks, lips pursed. )

Our master scholar feels the weight of his own unnatural state as we stay here. If they reach land, they still won't find rest, or resolution. Lan Zhan. What would you have us do?

( Conversation, invited, asking but not with helplessness. Thoughtfulness, and an awareness that their talent has been the chaos caused in each place they've been, no matter the intent. The burning wish to sweep Lan Zhan, Sizhui, Lily, Eleven, all the scattered people who have lingered and who come now away, to be done with this place and its great and horrible magic, balanced against: peace.

How many will know it?
)

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