Wei Wuxian | 魏无羡 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
singlelogbridge) wrote2022-02-25 01:37 pm
singlelogbridge) wrote2022-02-25 01:37 pm
Inbox: Ximilia
// Wei Wuxian
TEXT • AUDIO • VIDEO
XIMILIA
[ the sunlight room, when wei wuxian steps inside it, does not contain real plants grown to supply the station; instead, what he finds is something far more familiar. the scent of lotus pier hits him, first; the gentle lapping of waves against wood, second. but it is not the lotus pier that he has carved into his memories, from before its burning — no, it is the lotus pier from his childhood, from those faint, early memories that have faded over time.
should he wander further, he will see the memory focuses on what is unmistakably a cultivation conference; the faces of the sect leaders are strangely blurry, like the owner of the memory had never cared enough to commit them to memory, at the time. even robes seem to blend into another; it is impossible to tell jiang from ouyang, lan from qin. only one sect stands in clear, sharp detail: the nie, with a severe-looking, much younger nie mingjue sitting at the front of them all. he is clearly just a teenager, and yet he wears the sect leader's robes; his face is impassive, but his fists are tightly squeezed.
behind him, an even younger nie huaisang yawns. a second after, he balks, lifting his sleeve to cover the yawn... that has already passed.
the corner of nie mingjue's mouth tugs just the slightest bit.
a-sang, he whispers, this will take a while still. no one will think badly of you if you go. you have sat here for hours, now, and proven your patience.
huaisang's eyes start to sparkle. really, da-ge? you're the best!
he at least seems to remember enough of his manner lessons to make his escape a non-hasty one, at least until he makes it to the back of the room — then he sprints, straight into wei wuxian. ]
— ah! Hi!
should he wander further, he will see the memory focuses on what is unmistakably a cultivation conference; the faces of the sect leaders are strangely blurry, like the owner of the memory had never cared enough to commit them to memory, at the time. even robes seem to blend into another; it is impossible to tell jiang from ouyang, lan from qin. only one sect stands in clear, sharp detail: the nie, with a severe-looking, much younger nie mingjue sitting at the front of them all. he is clearly just a teenager, and yet he wears the sect leader's robes; his face is impassive, but his fists are tightly squeezed.
behind him, an even younger nie huaisang yawns. a second after, he balks, lifting his sleeve to cover the yawn... that has already passed.
the corner of nie mingjue's mouth tugs just the slightest bit.
a-sang, he whispers, this will take a while still. no one will think badly of you if you go. you have sat here for hours, now, and proven your patience.
huaisang's eyes start to sparkle. really, da-ge? you're the best!
he at least seems to remember enough of his manner lessons to make his escape a non-hasty one, at least until he makes it to the back of the room — then he sprints, straight into wei wuxian. ]
— ah! Hi!
[Between the thick humid air, the bright sweet scent of the lotuses, and the sound of the lapping waves, Wei Wuxian knows instantly where he is before he's even fully understood what he's seeing with his eyes. For a moment he wonders if he hasn't walked into his own memory, but the longer he stares, the more the small changes assert themselves and he realizes that if this memory were his own, he wouldn't be as old as he is now. (He knows already how the memories of childhood could take over their minds in a way the others didn't.)
Surrounding trees that had burned at the fall of Lotus Pier still stand just as he remembers them, and the old auntie who had died the spring before he left for Gusu is out on a dock in the distance selling watermelons, the image of her unfocused, but recognizable to him by the bend in her posture that he'd known so well. This is undoubtedly the Lotus Pier before the fall, and as he moves through the memory towards the center of its focus, his heart tugging painfully with every purple robed blur that he passes, he quickly recognizes whose memory this is even before the child comes into view.
If he'd kept his gaze on Huaisang, he likely would have anticipated the bump, but as his eyes had shifted—not without a soft gentle sorrow—to watch Nie Mingjue in the distance, it takes him by surprise, and his arms come up to steady the boy's shoulders at the same time that he lets out a soft laugh.]
Aiya, is the young master in such a rush to escape? [He raises an eyebrow but then breaks out into a conspiratorial smile.] Here, follow me and I'll take you somewhere much more exciting than this. [He winks once and then turns to lead him away from the conference and back towards one of the private gardens that borders the lake.]
Surrounding trees that had burned at the fall of Lotus Pier still stand just as he remembers them, and the old auntie who had died the spring before he left for Gusu is out on a dock in the distance selling watermelons, the image of her unfocused, but recognizable to him by the bend in her posture that he'd known so well. This is undoubtedly the Lotus Pier before the fall, and as he moves through the memory towards the center of its focus, his heart tugging painfully with every purple robed blur that he passes, he quickly recognizes whose memory this is even before the child comes into view.
If he'd kept his gaze on Huaisang, he likely would have anticipated the bump, but as his eyes had shifted—not without a soft gentle sorrow—to watch Nie Mingjue in the distance, it takes him by surprise, and his arms come up to steady the boy's shoulders at the same time that he lets out a soft laugh.]
Aiya, is the young master in such a rush to escape? [He raises an eyebrow but then breaks out into a conspiratorial smile.] Here, follow me and I'll take you somewhere much more exciting than this. [He winks once and then turns to lead him away from the conference and back towards one of the private gardens that borders the lake.]
（ what arrives in wei ying's room is a very small tomato plant.
it's difficult to say how long he has had the seeds, nor when he started them. but the seedling looks well-cared for, if somewhat small.
attached is a note that simply reads: Wei Ying — please care for this. ）
it's difficult to say how long he has had the seeds, nor when he started them. but the seedling looks well-cared for, if somewhat small.
attached is a note that simply reads: Wei Ying — please care for this. ）
( following the conclusion of this whole... whatever the Hell that was, McCoy made his escape from the last of mission preparations, and found his way to Wei Wuxian's door.
with a chilled bottle of wine, and a plate of sliced watermelon, bright red to their white and green rinds. both are meant to be taken, here– )
You defended my honor. Don't do that.
with a chilled bottle of wine, and a plate of sliced watermelon, bright red to their white and green rinds. both are meant to be taken, here– )
You defended my honor. Don't do that.
[His face immediately brightens at the sight of the watermelon and he holds the door open to allow McCoy in.
There's a queen bed in the room and one of the sides holds a nightstand with an assortment of Gwen's things among them. He's cleaned up her clothes and a few other things, but he hasn't had the heart to replace her knickknacks and other reminders. She's also in half of the photos(hers) and sketches(his) that adorn the walls. Aside from the obvious signs of Gwen's lingering presence, there's also a mess of papers and talisman drafts on the desk.
Thankfully, there's a low Chinese style tea table and he gestures McCoy over to have a seat at one of the cushions. As he goes, he lifts his hand to hold up two fingers.]
One: you can't make me stop. [He grins, incorrigible.] Two: he was corrupting my son! What was I supposed to just let him keep going?
There's a queen bed in the room and one of the sides holds a nightstand with an assortment of Gwen's things among them. He's cleaned up her clothes and a few other things, but he hasn't had the heart to replace her knickknacks and other reminders. She's also in half of the photos(hers) and sketches(his) that adorn the walls. Aside from the obvious signs of Gwen's lingering presence, there's also a mess of papers and talisman drafts on the desk.
Thankfully, there's a low Chinese style tea table and he gestures McCoy over to have a seat at one of the cushions. As he goes, he lifts his hand to hold up two fingers.]
One: you can't make me stop. [He grins, incorrigible.] Two: he was corrupting my son! What was I supposed to just let him keep going?
( He pauses inside the doorway for a half-second, taking in the little bits of Gwen's shining personality here and there around the room, and just. Smiles, a tender little thing. Then he follows after Wei Wuxian dutifully, setting to opening the bottle of wine, a bright, sweet white, perfect to go with the watermelon.
McCoy points the end of the corkscrew at him, ready to launch into the mother of all scoldings about getting dragged into pointless arguments with Xim's Latest Sassy Teen (#5? #6?), until the man drops that. )
Wei Wuxian, if I had a nickel for every– hold up. Your 'son'?
McCoy points the end of the corkscrew at him, ready to launch into the mother of all scoldings about getting dragged into pointless arguments with Xim's Latest Sassy Teen (#5? #6?), until the man drops that. )
Wei Wuxian, if I had a nickel for every– hold up. Your 'son'?
HOW do you get these Cubit things to actually LISTEN to you???
[Hello, Laoshi, I'm struggling.]
The Glooish keeps popping out of the cube and sleeps all day! I'm going to throw it into a garbage can!
[(no she's not)]
[Hello, Laoshi, I'm struggling.]
The Glooish keeps popping out of the cube and sleeps all day! I'm going to throw it into a garbage can!
[(no she's not)]
[He's laughing at you Ziggy, sorry he can't help it.]
Start practicing demonic cultivation, then the ghost ones will understand you perfectly. Although that doesn't actually make them inclined to listen, it just means you know for a fact when they're ignoring you to do what they want.
Also you're never allowed to practice demonic cultivation.
And you love the Glooish, don't you?
Start practicing demonic cultivation, then the ghost ones will understand you perfectly. Although that doesn't actually make them inclined to listen, it just means you know for a fact when they're ignoring you to do what they want.
Also you're never allowed to practice demonic cultivation.
And you love the Glooish, don't you?
Ugh, I solemnly swear not to practice demonic cultivation.
Now can you tell me some kind of talisman I can use to lock this jerk in his cube?
[... She does love the Glooish. It's a frustrated love, though.]
Literally, every time I pick it up, it's like handling a gigantic slimy blueberry. Which ones did YOU end up with?
Now can you tell me some kind of talisman I can use to lock this jerk in his cube?
[... She does love the Glooish. It's a frustrated love, though.]
Literally, every time I pick it up, it's like handling a gigantic slimy blueberry. Which ones did YOU end up with?
Edited 2023-07-21 02:58 (UTC)
[Understanding dawns immediately.
Maybe if he cared about Itachi just a little less, it wouldn't. Maybe it would have taken him a few puzzled minutes for the pieces to slide into place. As things stand, they know each other too well and he cares about him too much not to know exactly who he means when he says the clan.
But understanding on a rational level what Itachi is saying—connecting the dots and seeing the story in its entirety is not the same as...it doesn't mean he understands. It doesn't mean he processes the information.
The clan was my own. It was Itachi's, it was the Uchiha clan.
There is no answer to his stuttered knock at Itachi's door, and he looks at his fist like it doesn't belong to him. He doesn't remember knocking. he doesn't remember getting up from the desk he was half asleep at and leaving his room and walking down the halls and stopping here. His fist poses to knock again and then splays open instead, spread fingers landing quietly against the door.
If Itachi doesn't want to be found, he will not find him.
He reaches up to swipe at his eyes with the hand that isn't splayed on the door, thoughts in disarray, and remembers how Itachi had cried. Remembers his own conclusion that he hadn't wanted to do what he'd done that night. Remembers, I elicited his word he would not enact revenge against Konoha. His memory is shit but not when it matters. Not about this.
He doesn't know what he's feeling, only that he has to-he needs to see Itachi. He needs to talk to him. He needs to...he doesn't know.]
Was it under orders?
[Hadn't it been just a little while ago when he had thought to admire Itachi's loyalty? His stomach turns at the thought.]
Where are you?
Maybe if he cared about Itachi just a little less, it wouldn't. Maybe it would have taken him a few puzzled minutes for the pieces to slide into place. As things stand, they know each other too well and he cares about him too much not to know exactly who he means when he says the clan.
But understanding on a rational level what Itachi is saying—connecting the dots and seeing the story in its entirety is not the same as...it doesn't mean he understands. It doesn't mean he processes the information.
The clan was my own. It was Itachi's, it was the Uchiha clan.
There is no answer to his stuttered knock at Itachi's door, and he looks at his fist like it doesn't belong to him. He doesn't remember knocking. he doesn't remember getting up from the desk he was half asleep at and leaving his room and walking down the halls and stopping here. His fist poses to knock again and then splays open instead, spread fingers landing quietly against the door.
If Itachi doesn't want to be found, he will not find him.
He reaches up to swipe at his eyes with the hand that isn't splayed on the door, thoughts in disarray, and remembers how Itachi had cried. Remembers his own conclusion that he hadn't wanted to do what he'd done that night. Remembers, I elicited his word he would not enact revenge against Konoha. His memory is shit but not when it matters. Not about this.
He doesn't know what he's feeling, only that he has to-he needs to see Itachi. He needs to talk to him. He needs to...he doesn't know.]
Was it under orders?
[Hadn't it been just a little while ago when he had thought to admire Itachi's loyalty? His stomach turns at the thought.]
Where are you?
（ funny, how mccoy had asked nearly the same thing of him when that story came out, wrung from him with a violent sort of desperation, a rejection of the kindness offered.
in a way, it was inoculation. the question now, on another's proverbial lips, does not draw a flinch.
danzō will receive no more of his protection. and of sarutobi hiruzen — ）
What is the answer that least offends you?
（ the second question goes unanswered. ）
in a way, it was inoculation. the question now, on another's proverbial lips, does not draw a flinch.
danzō will receive no more of his protection. and of sarutobi hiruzen — ）
What is the answer that least offends you?
（ the second question goes unanswered. ）
Wei Wuxian,
I am considering integrating a weapon into my frame that could aid us in future ventures. I do not ask that you design a mechanical add-on, but I am interested in something of a magical nature. Could there be a way for you to design something easy to carry and wield that I may store in my armor, or perhaps as new power that I can use when I am in my smaller form?
Regards,
Minimus Ambus
I am considering integrating a weapon into my frame that could aid us in future ventures. I do not ask that you design a mechanical add-on, but I am interested in something of a magical nature. Could there be a way for you to design something easy to carry and wield that I may store in my armor, or perhaps as new power that I can use when I am in my smaller form?
Regards,
Minimus Ambus
[He's never received a text written like a letter before and it makes him smile as he reads. His eyes light up the further he gets and he's quick to respond as soon as he's done reading.]
I'd be happy to help you Minimus! It'll take me some time to come up with some ideas and then a while to see how I can make it happen, but I'll start looking into it right away!
I can probably help you figure out some kind of blade or even...maybe something with fire. The fire wouldn't be very strong though. Unless I could. Hmm. okay. I have some ideas. Do you know where on your frame you want it to be?
I'd be happy to help you Minimus! It'll take me some time to come up with some ideas and then a while to see how I can make it happen, but I'll start looking into it right away!
I can probably help you figure out some kind of blade or even...maybe something with fire. The fire wouldn't be very strong though. Unless I could. Hmm. okay. I have some ideas. Do you know where on your frame you want it to be?
Wei Wuxian,
Thank you for your work. I believe a blade would be more versatile, but I am open to your suggestions.
If it's a physical weapon, my forearm would have plenty of space. However, if I transform into vehicle mode, something installed on my back would work as well.
That goes for both my smaller form and armored form, although as a fox, I have my claws and teeth.
Can you give the blade magical properties?
Minimus Ambus
Thank you for your work. I believe a blade would be more versatile, but I am open to your suggestions.
If it's a physical weapon, my forearm would have plenty of space. However, if I transform into vehicle mode, something installed on my back would work as well.
That goes for both my smaller form and armored form, although as a fox, I have my claws and teeth.
Can you give the blade magical properties?
Minimus Ambus
[ The circadian rhythms Jake settled into as a grown dog were tossed quite effectively in the garbage since arriving in Hhial. Late mornings into late nights, Jake's new(ish) lifestyle of partying and plundering turned him from a afternoon napper and early riser into the kind of guy that routinely slept into late morning.
A few things were impacted by the new schedule. For one, the mission was even further from Jake's mind than usual, effectively usurped by the prescious opportunity to relive his twenties. Furthermore, his love of a big breakfast pivoted to a love of a very big lunch, which earned Jake plenty of points with the rest of the crew.
Then again, he'd missed just about every goodnight call with Finn for... a week. No points gained there, he's pretty sure.
The blinking alert inside his own head thundered like lightning above the bow of the ship, aggravating his headache and sending him groping around his own head for the off switch. As with all things, it took a mental press of a hypothetical button for the alert to cease. After five days in a row, you'd think Jake would have this routine down by now. ]
Grahokay, okay... [ He grumbles to no one in particular, mentally accessing Finn's headset. A minute passes, then five, his apologetic greeting receiving little more than the vague sense that he'd been left on read. ] Dangit.
[ It isn't the most admirable reason to be calling a friend, but their mutual interest and Wei Wuxian's stellar track record with Finn made him the obvious choice. Not that it stops Jake from preemptively wincing. ]
Hey, man. [ He croaks, sounding even more hungover somehow. ] Good mornin'.
[ It was not morning. ]
A few things were impacted by the new schedule. For one, the mission was even further from Jake's mind than usual, effectively usurped by the prescious opportunity to relive his twenties. Furthermore, his love of a big breakfast pivoted to a love of a very big lunch, which earned Jake plenty of points with the rest of the crew.
Then again, he'd missed just about every goodnight call with Finn for... a week. No points gained there, he's pretty sure.
The blinking alert inside his own head thundered like lightning above the bow of the ship, aggravating his headache and sending him groping around his own head for the off switch. As with all things, it took a mental press of a hypothetical button for the alert to cease. After five days in a row, you'd think Jake would have this routine down by now. ]
Grahokay, okay... [ He grumbles to no one in particular, mentally accessing Finn's headset. A minute passes, then five, his apologetic greeting receiving little more than the vague sense that he'd been left on read. ] Dangit.
[ It isn't the most admirable reason to be calling a friend, but their mutual interest and Wei Wuxian's stellar track record with Finn made him the obvious choice. Not that it stops Jake from preemptively wincing. ]
Hey, man. [ He croaks, sounding even more hungover somehow. ] Good mornin'.
[ It was not morning. ]
[It takes him a moment to register the voice as lost in thought as he is, and he blinks himself to awareness. He's sitting at a table on the Hawking staring at a strategy game that he knows Itachi would have mastered by now, and he stands abruptly, rising to find a quiet corner to respond.]
Late night? [He asks after taking a moment to get himself settled.]
Late night? [He asks after taking a moment to get himself settled.]
I was starting to think he might be. Real paranoid isn't he?
Anything I should know?
Anything I should know?
[Zewu-jun]
no I literally can't even say it as a joke, it's too weird. sorry, no fucking for 炸酱面 around here. How do you feel about 热干面?
no I literally can't even say it as a joke, it's too weird. sorry, no fucking for 炸酱面 around here. How do you feel about 热干面?
[Christmas morning, Wuxian will find a gift left in front of his door. There is a small bag of honey roasted nuts and a small jar of spiced pickled herrings.
In the wrapped present next to them, is a dark, metal and wooden comb from Ravka and a leather hair tie similar to the one Aleksander used when his own hair had been long.
The note taped to the present, reads-
Thank you.
- Aleksander]
In the wrapped present next to them, is a dark, metal and wooden comb from Ravka and a leather hair tie similar to the one Aleksander used when his own hair had been long.
The note taped to the present, reads-
Thank you.
- Aleksander]
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