laughitoff | [sidereal - the dreaming]

[THEY'RE FINE

EVERYONE'S FINE HERE]

[sure seems like it. it's easy enough to pick up the path back to the cliff from here.

Lan Wangji gets up again and shakes the ash off his dirt-resistant Lan mourning robes and keeps steadily walking down the hill without a word.]

[it's a very long walk.]

[he heads back to the beautiful lush valley that he knows is an illusion with a coffin in it in truth. he ignores the scenery and goes straight to the cliff. this, at least, he assumes is close enough to reality. he's seen and heard enough references to falling through all of this.

he puts a hand on it. he tilts his head up to see how it apparently continues up forever, with no discernable end to its face. he traces an array into the rock with a torn fingertip, leaving the faintest blood trail behind.]

Open.

[there is a wrench in his gut, and he is on top of the cliff instead of at its base, with the view of the actual Burial Mounds below. it's bare and rocky up here, the sky still reddish-grayish. round old bloodstains pit the edge right by his feet]

[there's a crystal chrysanthemum, strange and perfect and out of place, at the cliff edge on the other side of the bloodstains. Lan Wangji's eyes track across them before he rests his eyes on it; it has a faint glow that doesn't seem to belong to the surroundings.]

There.

[Wei Wuxian doesn't answer, though he sees it too.]

[he leaves a space for an answer and when one doesn't come, he takes another breath, takes the few steps over the bloodstains, and kneels prudently at the edge of the cliff before he picks up the chrysanthemum.]

[memories glitter past his eyes in a rush:

Wen Chao scorned, “You’re so close to your death and you’re still playing the hero!”

Wei WuXian laughed coldly, “It’s precisely because I’m close to my death that I’m so happy! What I’m scared of is that I won’t die. If you have the guts then torture me! The more cruel the better. After I die, I’ll definitely become a ferocious ghost and haunt the QishanWen Sect day and night, cursing all of you!”

...

Knowing that he’d definitely die, Wei WuXian somehow grew calmer. The bone-deep hatred within him settled into iron-cold determination. Looking at his expression, although Wen Chao was annoyed, he somehow felt fear. He kicked his stomach, “You’re still putting on the act! Who do you want to scare?! Whose hero are you pretending to be?!”

The group of disciples beat up Wei WuXian with him. After he felt that it was enough, Wen Chao finally ordered, “Enough!”

Wei WuXian spat out another mouthful of blood. His heart was set, It’s time to kill me? It won’t be much different even if I die. It won’t be any worse than living, and there’s a one-in-three chance for me to become a ferocious ghost and seek revenge!

Thinking of this, he felt an unparalleled thrill.

...

Along with him, the Wen Sect’s people flew with their swords. The town and the mountains grew farther and farther away. Wei WuXian thought, Even if Jiang Cheng went down, he wouldn’t be able to find me anymore… Why are they taking me so high into the air? Let me fall to my death when they’re high enough?

...

He kept his head raised and his eyes open as he plummeted off the cliff. He looked at the person who killed Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu, and tormented Jiang Cheng. He seared his face and his cold expression into his heart.

...

His lungs burned and his bones ached. He did not let himself collapse. He bound resentful energy about his limbs to keep walking, like a fierce corpse. What else was he to do? There was no one to help him here except fierce corpses. There would be no one to help him. He had to help himself.

Wei Wuxian is screaming between the rush of them--]

[they ebb suddenly, as if jolted to a halt. they do not quite perceive the cliffside around them any more externally; it's dimming into a shadowy space, still undefined. there is a feeling of enormous gears shifting into a new position.]

Edited 2019-12-22 18:28 (UTC)

[nope, still screaming]

Stop it, stop it, stop it, fucking--stop it!

Edited 2019-12-22 18:29 (UTC)

[there's a massive crunch as the revolution completes, and they're suddenly in another set of memories.

Your uncle told you that the news was bad in a hundred little ways before either of you ever spoke. You could hear it from the little hesitation before he cleared his throat and announced himself at the flap of the tent; you could see it in the fine lines around his mouth, the slightly too-careful way he bowed his head to you in owed respect to the acting leader of the Lan Sect. Ridiculous. By the time you meet his eyes there has been more than enough warning to summon the cool dispassion that flows through your veins like water.

"My brother," you don't quite ask. You have been braced for the bad news for weeks. You think that the axe falling might almost be a relief until the bleeding sets in.

"There's been no news of Xichen yet," Lan Qiren replies. You go still, your very lack of reaction evidence of your surprise. What, then--? He only leaves you in suspense for a moment.

Lotus Pier. You knew that the Wens wouldn't stop at your sect, but between their leader's reputation and the Violet Spider, you had believed that of all places Lotus Pier was well-protected. Jiang Fengmian had assured you he understood the risks at the Xuanwu's cave. You'd trusted--

Wei Ying and the heir to the sect are missing. Your cool reserve freezes to ice in your veins with the horror of it. He is missing. Where is he?

Your brother has not returned. The search parties you dispatch to Yunmeng come back with nothing but fearful tales to soothe the panic you keep locked under your ribs. Jiang Cheng reappears alone at Qinghe. You walk out of the hastily-called Discussion Conference with words of rebellion still on your lips; you stare down from the wall of the Unclean Realm and let it sink in even further that your father was always right. You have the nominal power of the head of the Lan Sect, the one responsibility to your family you never asked for, and it will give you nothing, nothing, nothing back that you ever wanted.]

Edited 2019-12-22 19:07 (UTC)

[Wei Wuxian's screaming cuts off, replaced by that cold shock again, like a plunge into icewater]

[His brother smiled at him, worry overlaid by the warmth that's in scarce supply these days, when he said he wouldn't expect him back from this mission until the second hour past sunrise. His brother knows that he could get to and from the camp of rogue cultivators they're recruiting by dawn, if he really had to, even if other cultivators would need until midmorning. His brother can always read him much better than his uncle can, something that's never failed to be something of a relief.

Having Bichen back to set under his feet would be much more of a relief if he didn't think of Jiang Cheng clipping the sword with its stupid infuriating name to his own belt every time he draws it from its sheath again.

There have been no reports of Wen encampments here. He doesn't see any when he checks over the area in hasty reconnaissance, but he does find the evidence of a struggle. It's over a month old - that's the right time period. His heart clenches. It doesn't relax when Inquiry returns no answer; marking this area off as "searched" in his mental map gives him no relief at all.

...

He's two steps behind already. He needs to get to Wei Ying before he catches up to the Wen siblings, sees the aftermath. He can guess exactly what his reaction will be.

He's retracing the path from Yiling to the Nightless City as fast as he can, but is he ahead of him or behind him? He can't guess. He tries to urge Bichen faster.

...

Agony screams down his back. He keeps from stumbling with pure force of will, but the ash in the air chokes him. He's not entirely sure how he's standing but he can't just stop...

He hasn't even found the Wens' bodies, much less the one he's looking for. He sees the drag marks from their removal, but all the other cultivators are gone by now.

Is anyone alive here at all?

...

(his hand is on his wrist and his eyes are searching his blank face but he's not finding anything. is he there? get lost, get lost, get lost--)

...

He can feel the roof tiles shift under his feet. He can hear that familiar step. But when he looks down at that face, his heart starts to hammer at the cold expression on it. The stars are very bright and far away above them. Something is wrong. Can everyone who looks at this not see it? Something is very wrong.

...

It's more of an effort than it should be to kneel by the lightning-blasted hollow tree between his back and the child in his arms. A-Yuan being alive changes everything; he can't just stand in front of the Demon-Slaughtering Cave (the reminder of the stupid name stabs at him) until he really does turn into a statue, the way he half wants to. There are duties to the living now. He only has enough medicine for the boy to stay a short while.

His heart lifts in one last terrible hope as he sets his guqin across his knees, though. A-Yuan is alive. Someone hid him here; someone protected him. Someone still might be protecting him. If any of the Wen ghosts remain, this untouched little patch of scrubby trees might be where they've stayed.

If he's still here--

A-Yuan stirs a little against his side. He closes his eyes, heart in his throat, to play Inquiry for Wei Ying yet one more time.

No one answers.]

Edited 2019-12-22 22:07 (UTC)

[Wei Wuxian's shock gives way to spilling horror and grief, a torn-open wound as sure as any that led to his death. he should be grateful, he should be wondering at this proof of what Lan Wangji's done, how good a person Lan Wangji is, an unexpected ally who was at his back all along...

but almost all of it is tragic; waste and missed opportunities unto death and beyond, sorrow on sorrow. even the parts he's been told of already rip the edges wider; it is different seeing him and feeling him live through it rather than simply being told. Lan Wangji feels blood rise in his throat.]

Edited 2019-12-23 00:48 (UTC)

[he sort of shoves himself between Wei Wuxian and the memory; it's not as if he wants him burdened with this either...

the scenery fully goes dark around them. when their surroundings finish fading back on, they've separated at last - they're both on the stone floor of a perfectly round room with smooth walls and ceiling. there's an etched crystal chrysanthemum inlaid into the floor, only one petal lit so far.

there's a cheerful mechanical DING! that they recognize from past wish related experience, then silence.]

Edited 2019-12-23 01:02 (UTC)

[the bad-blood taste is still there, held-back but definite; Wei Wuxian is weeping.]

[it takes him a moment of disorientation, then he looks at Wei Wuxian in alarm]

[he's just sort of a stupid puddle of dark hair and dark robes, on his hands and knees]

[kneels next to him miserably]

[coughs and retches and finally spits the blood he was gagging on, staining the chrysanthemum beneath them lividly]

[at least it's out...]

[wipes his eyes and mouth on a sleeve after and then stays crouched there like a large distressed beast, shoulders shaking]

[this is his fault so he does not quite feel able to reach out, but his shoulder is nearly touching Wei Wuxian's... aaaaaa]

Wei Ying.

Why are we being made to do this?! Is this supposed to help us?!

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