inbox | eastbound

[downswing]

lan wangji
missives | encounters

Comments

[weifinder]

( Yes. )

No.

[downswing]

Craven.

[weifinder]

Bamboo bends while remaining upright.

[downswing]

You injured my brother's dignity.

[weifinder]

Would you rather I lie to you.

[downswing]

My brother.

[weifinder]

Lan Zhan.

Just recall all you've said of mine.

[downswing]

Then take sword for him.

[weifinder]

No. Because I care for you both, deeply, and I'm not blinded to the faults or strengths of you as stars within my night's sky.

[downswing]

My faults are not my brother's.

You speak too freely.

[weifinder]

No, his are his own.

You can always divorce me, you know. You'd have to do it six times for it to stick, but it's possible.

[downswing]

Or spell your tongue.

[weifinder]

And kiss my bleeding, torn mouth after.

1/2

[downswing]

Crime, punishment, amends.

[downswing]

You are a child.

Positioning me between two equal loyalties, to enjoy when my step fall towards you.

1/2

[weifinder]

Yes. As are you.

But I don't ask, or demand, division.

[weifinder]

If you prefer lies, so be it. Whatever pleases.

( ... aaaand then he was done, off on a task of his own making, as so many were. )

[downswing]

We have death and grief between us.

I cannot fit dishonesty.

[weifinder]

( having worked on a few talismans he wants to test next chance he has, he reads this. rubs his face. )

I'm not always going to have pleasant things to say. Not even out of spite.

Lan Zhan... I care for your brother. He's a good man, as much as he can be. He always strives toward broader considerations. He was made to see his blindnesses in a soul fracturing way. I understand. I've been there.

I don't speak to disparage him. I acknowledge, and accept. Can you understand that?

[downswing]

( He can. He does. Heart wind-withered ruin. A curse upon their house.

And he is silent for the better part of a half-shi. Grief borrowed. )


Paint your mouth red.


( Peace. )

[weifinder]

( long, his answer in coming. he takes part challenge, part appeasement, has little preparation, plenty of charming words. until he does, finally, answer with the vision of himself, instead of the words of his authorship alone. lips red, crimson, lurid compared to his complexion, which has more colour to it now than it had in serthica. that will change again, soon enough.

for now he smiles, and it's a small, genuine thing, undercut by the nervous lathe of his tongue over his lower lip. these are not the simple, quiet brooks he leapt across as a young man. these rivers run deep, these waters run long, and their boat is only as steady as their hearts and minds are, harmonising. )

Do you want lamp light to cherish the fading red, Lan Zhan?

video

[downswing]

( Ah, to have beauty like snow before you, ephemeral. Dead once it falls in grasp. )

Wet the fingertips burned on that flame.

[weifinder]

( to draw a finger over lips, light enough to leave them stained, rough enough to drag the flesh: )

Consumed and consuming, reborn anew from ash.

( as he has been. as both their homes have been. )

[downswing]

( Well, then. Breath staggered, stilted. )

...run.

[weifinder]

( the answer, before he ceases the pendant's communication, is a smile. a lower of his gaze. the challenge.

then, absence.

he runs, masking his self much as he can, and runs in the manner of one not seeking the attentions of the workers here, or the ghosts, or most particularly his brother, some things need not be known. even while they're known. )