I will not listen, no. I have procured the necessities, I will be with you shortly. If you are thirsty, please drink water. Do not try to do too much, I will use your spare key to get in.
[ Lan Zhan hates the fact that Wei Ying's first instinct with any kind of hurt is to hide it. He is a human, he is allowed to be fallible. He can always tell when it's serious, Wei Ying's tell is that he tries to through people off through flippancy and then sincerity by turns. Hoping they won't notice him not saying anything about himself.
He reaches the apartment quickly, the small corner store had everything he didn't already posses so he has a bag full of cough medicine, cold medicine, soup, vitamins, oranges and a new thermometer.
He came prepared in case Wei Ying has nothing, which is more likely than not. When he gets to the front door, he reaches up to the door frame where the key is perched (lamenting the lack of security the entire time,) and lets himself in.
He takes off his shoes, puts the bag in the kitchen, removes the thermometer and flips on the kettle before following the sounds of sniffling. ]
Wei Ying. I am here. How are you feeling? Please open your mouth for the thermometer.
[He doesn't hear Lan Zhan come in through the pounding in his head and curled in his blanket as he is. Only when his voice enters the room does Wei Ying blink his eyes open, hazy gaze landing on him. His phone is still clutched in one hand though it's clear he'd dozed off the moment they stopped texting.
In person, it is much more difficult to hide his actual state and as is probably not that surprising, he's considerably worse off than he'd suggested. His cheeks are flushed red with fever though the rest of him is pale, and his eyes are glossy and blinking rapidly, as though he's having a hard time focusing.]
Lan Zhan? [His voice sounds rough and he flinches at the sound of it, clearing his throat as he pushes himself up into a seated position, one hand steadying himself against the bed frame as he goes. He doesn't open his mouth for the thermometer, instead fixing him with a vaguely confused gaze.]
You can just...leave everything. You shouldn't...I'll get you sick.
[ As the man in bed reassembles himself into wakefulness, Lan Zhan takes stock of Wei Ying's appearance. Allergies his foot. His skin is pale and sweaty, the closer he gets the more tired he appears and Lan Zhan's concern mounts.
He sits on bed, eyes flicking across Wei Ying's face. ]
I will not. You need someone to take care of you. I have a strong immune system.
[ The rasp in Wei Ying's speech sounds painful and he is glad he brought honey. As Wei Ying opens his mouth to protest further, Lan Zhan sticks the thermometer under his tongue. ]
Hold it in place, gently.
[ He waits until Wei Ying has grasped it, then ignoring any garbled protests, he strides back into the kitchen where the kettles has just boiled. He washes and then sets out a mug and a glass; he puts a sweet fruit teabag in the mug with honey and pours the hot water in while putting cold water in the glass. Knowing Wei Ying does not possess a tray, he puts the pills in his pocket, puts a damp cloth over one wrist, grabs the drinks and takes it back to the bedroom.
He's just in time to hear the beep of the thermometer as he puts everything on the beside table. Lan Zhan takes the thermometer out of Wei Ying's mouth and hands him the water. ]
You have a fever.
[ Lan Zhan pops two pills out of the packet and holds them out. ]
[Simon is scrounging meagerly about the train car looting whatever he can find, whether it be food, hygiene products, or even little trinkets here and there for his various projects. The rest of the Apex isn't far behind, and if Wuxian listens closely, he may be able to hear the screams and shouts of what must be small children.
He takes and takes and takes, as this is what is rightfully theirs, as everything in this place exists for their enjoyment regardless of what the nulls may do or say. While reaching for a clean, packaged toothbrush in a pile of mismatched toiletries, he looks up and catches sight of what appears to be another passenger. Simon is usually quick to his feet when he sees another potential addition to their little army, though the Apex has specific criteria when searching for new cronies. Adult passengers on the train are not trustworthy, after all.
Simon stares blankly at the... err, man? Woman? Pretty face of unidentified gender identity... On the other side of the rubble. Being of slender build and having quite the long mop of hair on his own head, he shouldn't be so downright confused by what he's seeing. But for the average young American boy, the garments the other wears are quite unfamiliar. Simon isn't entirely sure why his chest feels so goddamn tight or why his typically anxious and neurotic head is suddenly empty, and so he continues to blink rather awkwardly, unconsciously noting that Wuxian's clothes look cool as heck and those high cheekbones are very pretty.]
[When Wei Wuxian had first opened his eyes to find himself in an unfamiliar place with no idea how he'd gotten there, his first instinct had been confusion. Not over the location, not yet, mostly over the idea that he had eyes to open. And not just eyes, but legs and hands, working lungs, a mouth even. He stood slowly and found that he has all of his senses as well. Which is. Well.
He closes his eyes for a long time and just breathes (and isn't that strange, isn't that amazing, he'd never before appreciated what it felt like to breathe, but now that it should be impossible, he can't help marveling that it's still happening.) After a long while when nothing has changed, he begins to move around and investigate his surroundings.
There are piles of things scattered around, odds and ends, some recognizable, most not. At first glance some of it might be junk, but other piles blind him with their neon colors, a brightly colored fabric of some kind crinkling beneath his fingers. None of it makes sense and none of it tells him where he is.
There are windows though. Enough to tell him that he's moving and far faster than any carriage could manage.
It's...a lot. All of it. He wants to lie down and close his eyes and fade into nonexistence but apparently that isn't an option.
With a sigh he continues on, exploring as much as he can until movement out of the corner of his eyes has him whipping around to face a...man. Wei Wuxian blinks, taking in the weird clothing and bright color of his hair.]
Where is this place? How did I get here? [Another time he might have been hostile, might have threatened the man for answers. Now he finds he doesn't care enough for that. Maybe this is some sort of punishment. That seemed fitting enough.]
[Look at him snapping his fingers and pretending to be confident. He's just LARPING Grace.]
Is the Train. It goes on for miles and miles and miles, and that's kinda weird, but the good news is-
[note the dodging of Real Legitimate answers lmfao rip]
Everything on it is yours for taking. All this stuff?
[Simon pulls what appears to be a yo-yo from the pile between them, tossing it up and down in his free, nonblinky green hand. We'll get to that in a minute.]
We get to do whatever we want with it. It's pretty awesome.
[Wei Wuxian blinks. There's a whisper of something in the back of his mind that might be annoyance, but it's too faint to grasp. He's still adjusting to everything. This place. Being alive.]
I don't want any of it. That explains nothing, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be somewhere else. [Probably. Maybe. God he doesn't even known anymore.]
Is this...no it can't be in between worlds...why would it be like this? [He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, cringing as the stretch of it pulls on the wound in his chest hidden beneath his robes, and wow. Okay. Pain is a thing he's feeling. Because he's alive.]
Why am I here? [He frowns, finally taking note of the man's brightly glowing hand. It looks like a talisman, though he's never seen one quite so green.] And who are you?
[Simon is not usually the one to give the Apex spiel to a newcomer, as he lacks Grace's undeniable charisma and mastery of sweet talk. However, for a passenger who is slightly older and perhaps less impressionable, the blonde might actually be a better sell.
Seemingly, there is almost nothing threatening about this mild mannered boy with a nasally voice and slender build. If Wuxian were to pay attention to his attire, he would notice that a lot of the pieces, while functional, seem as though they were constructed from bits and bobs you would be able to find on the train. His shoes, though styled in the shape of sandals and worn over ankle length socks, are strung together from metals of different colors. The young man definitely seems like the kind of person who prefers tinkering with gadgets over talking to people.]
Why you're here? Well, that's easy.
You're here because the train chose you to recognize your full potential. You do that by getting your number up as high as possible.
[Simon pulls down the sleeve of his white hoodie to reveal not just a glowing palm but a string of numbers that extend all the way to his elbow.]
I'm not usually the type to brag about this kinda stuff, but, heh-
[what a disgusting, nerdy little laugh i'm gonna kill him]
I've worked pretty hard to get my number up this high. I'm a part of this really cool group called the Apex, and our leader?
She's got a number even higher than mine.
You should join us! I mean, it beats being alone on this thing by a longshot.
[Its a lot of information at once, most of which he factors out as useless. All this talk of numbers and raising scores. It takes him a moment to remember his own number, the one he'd found on his hand after waking, and he glances at it now, staring at it with a dull exhausted gaze. 74. He should ask what it stands for. 74 what? But he can't bring himself to care.]
Potential? [His voice is quiet and he laughs, a bitter tired sound.]
I don't want to be here. I don't have anything to offer anyone. [He closes his fingers into a fist and lets out a shaky sigh before letting his hand fall back to his side.]
If this is supposed to be a mercy, I don't want it. Is this train—is it a god of some kind? An immortal?
[It's here where Simon steps over the rubble and gets closer, a gesture meant that's meant to be comforting.]
That's no way to talk about yourself! You're here. That means you've definitely got what it takes to be a pro at this thing.
[He rests a hand on Wuxian's shoulder, squeezing gently.]
And uh, I don't know if I would call it a god? It's more of just... A place. A place for special people.
[Usually, this kind of talk would start him on a long speech about the evil False conductor and other things, but Simon remembers how he felt when he got here. Too many words may not be the right choice of action, especially for a stray who already wants to go home.]
It can be pretty scary at first, I'm not gonna lie, but with the right friends?
It's a total blast.
[he lets go bc um
wow haha thats a very nice... firm shoulder u got there]
[There are so many things wrong with what the man—Simon—is saying. So many piece that don't fit. Special? Sure. He was special. He had achieved impossible things. Done things others couldn't have possibly dreamed of. He was brilliant and creative, a dangerous combination. He was so special he ruined everything he touched. So unique, so arrogant as to believe he had the ability to control forces never meant to be controlled that his hands were stained with blood that could never be washed away.]
Wei Wuxian. [He answers that question because it's the first thing he can wrap his mind around. Then he pauses and continues.]
I'm not scared. I don't want to have a blast. I don't want friends. I want to be where I'm supposed to be. [His hands are shaking now and he steps to the side, leaning against one of the walls and taking another shaky breath. This isn't right. None of this is right. There's a pressure building inside of him, something like fear compressed with stress. He shouldn't be feeling this because he shouldn't be feeling anything.
no subject
no subject
no subject
Meme Cont.
[Ah...yeah, he has none of those things but he can't admit it!!!]
you don't have to trouble yourself lan zhan! i'll be fine, really! i was only whining, i don't want to be a hassle
legend
I will bring you items, this is non-negotiable.
You are not a hassle to me.
Please pick a flavour.
Do you own a thermometer?
no subject
no subject
I have procured the necessities, I will be with you shortly.
If you are thirsty, please drink water. Do not try to do too much, I will use your spare key to get in.
1/2
Wanna make it an action thread?
always, if you will have me
He reaches the apartment quickly, the small corner store had everything he didn't already posses so he has a bag full of cough medicine, cold medicine, soup, vitamins, oranges and a new thermometer.
He came prepared in case Wei Ying has nothing, which is more likely than not. When he gets to the front door, he reaches up to the door frame where the key is perched (lamenting the lack of security the entire time,) and lets himself in.
He takes off his shoes, puts the bag in the kitchen, removes the thermometer and flips on the kettle before following the sounds of sniffling. ]
Wei Ying. I am here. How are you feeling? Please open your mouth for the thermometer.
Always!
In person, it is much more difficult to hide his actual state and as is probably not that surprising, he's considerably worse off than he'd suggested. His cheeks are flushed red with fever though the rest of him is pale, and his eyes are glossy and blinking rapidly, as though he's having a hard time focusing.]
Lan Zhan? [His voice sounds rough and he flinches at the sound of it, clearing his throat as he pushes himself up into a seated position, one hand steadying himself against the bed frame as he goes. He doesn't open his mouth for the thermometer, instead fixing him with a vaguely confused gaze.]
You can just...leave everything. You shouldn't...I'll get you sick.
My sword is yours
He sits on bed, eyes flicking across Wei Ying's face. ]
I will not. You need someone to take care of you. I have a strong immune system.
[ The rasp in Wei Ying's speech sounds painful and he is glad he brought honey. As Wei Ying opens his mouth to protest further, Lan Zhan sticks the thermometer under his tongue. ]
Hold it in place, gently.
[ He waits until Wei Ying has grasped it, then ignoring any garbled protests, he strides back into the kitchen where the kettles has just boiled. He washes and then sets out a mug and a glass; he puts a sweet fruit teabag in the mug with honey and pours the hot water in while putting cold water in the glass. Knowing Wei Ying does not possess a tray, he puts the pills in his pocket, puts a damp cloth over one wrist, grabs the drinks and takes it back to the bedroom.
He's just in time to hear the beep of the thermometer as he puts everything on the beside table. Lan Zhan takes the thermometer out of Wei Ying's mouth and hands him the water. ]
You have a fever.
[ Lan Zhan pops two pills out of the packet and holds them out. ]
Swallow both. Then drink the tea. Are you cold?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
That tag is so cute, I'm losing it
*bows* I can be the softest boy
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
no subject
He takes and takes and takes, as this is what is rightfully theirs, as everything in this place exists for their enjoyment regardless of what the nulls may do or say. While reaching for a clean, packaged toothbrush in a pile of mismatched toiletries, he looks up and catches sight of what appears to be another passenger. Simon is usually quick to his feet when he sees another potential addition to their little army, though the Apex has specific criteria when searching for new cronies. Adult passengers on the train are not trustworthy, after all.
Simon stares blankly at the... err, man? Woman? Pretty face of unidentified gender identity... On the other side of the rubble. Being of slender build and having quite the long mop of hair on his own head, he shouldn't be so downright confused by what he's seeing. But for the average young American boy, the garments the other wears are quite unfamiliar. Simon isn't entirely sure why his chest feels so goddamn tight or why his typically anxious and neurotic head is suddenly empty, and so he continues to blink rather awkwardly, unconsciously noting that Wuxian's clothes look cool as heck
and those high cheekbones are very pretty.]no subject
He closes his eyes for a long time and just breathes (and isn't that strange, isn't that amazing, he'd never before appreciated what it felt like to breathe, but now that it should be impossible, he can't help marveling that it's still happening.) After a long while when nothing has changed, he begins to move around and investigate his surroundings.
There are piles of things scattered around, odds and ends, some recognizable, most not. At first glance some of it might be junk, but other piles blind him with their neon colors, a brightly colored fabric of some kind crinkling beneath his fingers. None of it makes sense and none of it tells him where he is.
There are windows though. Enough to tell him that he's moving and far faster than any carriage could manage.
It's...a lot. All of it. He wants to lie down and close his eyes and fade into nonexistence but apparently that isn't an option.
With a sigh he continues on, exploring as much as he can until movement out of the corner of his eyes has him whipping around to face a...man. Wei Wuxian blinks, taking in the weird clothing and bright color of his hair.]
Where is this place? How did I get here? [Another time he might have been hostile, might have threatened the man for answers. Now he finds he doesn't care enough for that. Maybe this is some sort of punishment. That seemed fitting enough.]
1/?
2/?
3/3
[Look at him snapping his fingers and pretending to be confident. He's just LARPING Grace.]
Is the Train. It goes on for miles and miles and miles, and that's kinda weird, but the good news is-
[note the dodging of Real Legitimate answers lmfao rip]
Everything on it is yours for taking. All this stuff?
[Simon pulls what appears to be a yo-yo from the pile between them, tossing it up and down in his free, nonblinky green hand. We'll get to that in a minute.]
We get to do whatever we want with it. It's pretty awesome.
no subject
I don't want any of it. That explains nothing, I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be somewhere else. [Probably. Maybe. God he doesn't even known anymore.]
Is this...no it can't be in between worlds...why would it be like this? [He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, cringing as the stretch of it pulls on the wound in his chest hidden beneath his robes, and wow. Okay. Pain is a thing he's feeling. Because he's alive.]
Why am I here? [He frowns, finally taking note of the man's brightly glowing hand. It looks like a talisman, though he's never seen one quite so green.] And who are you?
no subject
[Simon is not usually the one to give the Apex spiel to a newcomer, as he lacks Grace's undeniable charisma and mastery of sweet talk. However, for a passenger who is slightly older and perhaps less impressionable, the blonde might actually be a better sell.
Seemingly, there is almost nothing threatening about this mild mannered boy with a nasally voice and slender build. If Wuxian were to pay attention to his attire, he would notice that a lot of the pieces, while functional, seem as though they were constructed from bits and bobs you would be able to find on the train. His shoes, though styled in the shape of sandals and worn over ankle length socks, are strung together from metals of different colors. The young man definitely seems like the kind of person who prefers tinkering with gadgets over talking to people.]
Why you're here? Well, that's easy.
You're here because the train chose you to recognize your full potential. You do that by getting your number up as high as possible.
[Simon pulls down the sleeve of his white hoodie to reveal not just a glowing palm but a string of numbers that extend all the way to his elbow.]
I'm not usually the type to brag about this kinda stuff, but, heh-
[what a disgusting, nerdy little laugh i'm gonna kill him]
I've worked pretty hard to get my number up this high. I'm a part of this really cool group called the Apex, and our leader?
She's got a number even higher than mine.
You should join us! I mean, it beats being alone on this thing by a longshot.
no subject
Potential? [His voice is quiet and he laughs, a bitter tired sound.]
I don't want to be here. I don't have anything to offer anyone. [He closes his fingers into a fist and lets out a shaky sigh before letting his hand fall back to his side.]
If this is supposed to be a mercy, I don't want it. Is this train—is it a god of some kind? An immortal?
no subject
[It's here where Simon steps over the rubble and gets closer, a gesture meant that's meant to be comforting.]
That's no way to talk about yourself! You're here. That means you've definitely got what it takes to be a pro at this thing.
[He rests a hand on Wuxian's shoulder, squeezing gently.]
And uh, I don't know if I would call it a god? It's more of just... A place. A place for special people.
[Usually, this kind of talk would start him on a long speech about the evil False conductor and other things, but Simon remembers how he felt when he got here. Too many words may not be the right choice of action, especially for a stray who already wants to go home.]
It can be pretty scary at first, I'm not gonna lie, but with the right friends?
It's a total blast.
[he lets go bc um
wow haha thats a very nice... firm shoulder u got there]
What's your name?
no subject
Wei Wuxian. [He answers that question because it's the first thing he can wrap his mind around. Then he pauses and continues.]
I'm not scared. I don't want to have a blast. I don't want friends. I want to be where I'm supposed to be. [His hands are shaking now and he steps to the side, leaning against one of the walls and taking another shaky breath. This isn't right. None of this is right. There's a pressure building inside of him, something like fear compressed with stress. He shouldn't be feeling this because he shouldn't be feeling anything.
It was supposed to be over.]
Why isn't it over?
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
this is so much worse if u kno... um
SOON I WILL
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2 sorry for this long tag omg
2/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
cont. from tfln
Oh? Please tell me more.
no subject
no subject
Aha I think that might be the alcohol talking. How much have you had? Do you need help getting to bed?