westwhere | Open

WHO: Chu Wanning and open!
WHEN: Early to mid-September
WHERE: Don Bonaccorso's wing and the area nearby. Also dragon and beacon shenanigans.
WHAT: Chu Wanning gets mistaken for a servant and attempts to do housework. Spoiler: io
WARNINGS:

i:

[He wasn't sure how things led to this but he'd stepped in to help clear out some boxes from the kitchen one day (because they were in his way not because he was trying to help! That's his story and he's sticking to it), and at some point after nearly two weeks he (finally) realized there may have been some misunderstanding.

It seems some of the servants from Don Bonaccorso's wing thought he was one of the new servants. He would have corrected them but...after so many days it would be embarrassing to admit that he hand't noticed before.

So...he just continued helping.

Catch him heading for Bonaccorso's wing with a parcel in hand, or you spot him being handed a key and instructed to go to this-or-that room, to clean.

Or maybe you happen on him being scolded for his lacklustre laundry job. The reason for the scolding would be known to anyone who sees him actually doing laundry: he literally dips the clothes in water (without soap), swirls it around then takes it back out. Then he presses a hand to the fabric and, after a brief glow at the tips of his fingers the fabric steams and dries. Then he folds the clothes sort of haphazardly before setting them aside and reaching for the next article.]

ii: The Dragon Stuff

[For the first time since arriving in this place, Chu Wanning is out in front of people in his own white robes. After all, they're here to fight a dragon.

He stands at the front of one of the ships, his long hair tied in a ponytail and moving in the wind. Underneath his mask, he narrows his eyes thoughtfully.]

...a dragon.

[He says it absentmindedly, like someone talking to themselves. He doesn't sound afraid though, just intrigued.

Or maybe you see him after he's seated with a black guqin settled on his lap. One end of it curls out like a branch with flowers blooming on it. Those sensitive to such things might sense that it is a powerful magic tool.

The music he plays is magical in nature as well and it brings with it a sense of calm, though he's not currently targeting anyone besides the dragon so the effects are more muted on other listeners.

His fingers as he continues to pluck out a slow melody on the strings, also appear to be close to breaking skin and bleeding if anyone is paying attention. He's been at this for a while now.]

iii: Beacons and Seals and Frostbite

[He had volunteered to stand guard today...mostly so there wouldn't be anyone to stop him from crouching down and slowly, carefully painting a seal on one of the beacons. When he's done, the seal he's painted is done somewhere away from eye level and it's painted on as small as he could manage.

Even partway through, his hands are showing the beginnings of frostbite though he manages to prevent it from getting too bad with some spiritual energy. But his skin is still obviously and painfully red when he's done.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Sizhui doesn't see the seal painting; however, after his own fingers got hurt before they left Sa-Hareth, he's become very aware of the ways someone used to robes moves when their fingers are not quite all right. Which is the only reason he dares to speak up to the other masked man, cupping his own hands out of habit - he's discovered that people in Taravast generally ignore it, so unless he's working hard to blend in, he doesn't worry too much if he slips into the habit. ]

Please forgive me if I am speaking out of turn, but if there is discomfort in your fingers, I might be able to help. [ Polite and deferential. ] I have been learning with the healers.

There is no discomfort.

[The dismissal comes quickly, without hesitation.

He had been hiding his hands after finishing but only so he had the chance to take a good look at the seal one more time before he activated it. It was important to make sure there wasn't a single mistake lest something unfortunate happen to the dragon.

Once he's certain of it he reaches out to touch the seal and imbue it with spiritual energy and, in the process, revealed his fingers and his lie for what it was.]

Save your help for those who need it.

[...as if there's anyone else here at the moment.]

[ Oh! Even though their devices translate all speech, his ears still pick up the familiar tones, and he cups his hands again, this time bowing more properly. ]

Senior, will you not let me see then so I learn from my mistake? The better for you to teach me how to assist you, so more of the work on this is done.

[ He has to try. ]

I don't specialize in healing. [So how could he teach you anything, really!

But more importantly,] Do you not already have a teacher? [Go assist them!]

No, senior, I did not mean that you should instruct me, but merely asked that you allow me to examine your hands and see why I was mistaken in thinking they might be hurt.

... my teacher probably would have pulled your hands to see for herself, by now.

[...]

Fine.

[He says it so begrudgingly that it was almost childish in a way. Then he held out his hands and they were...definitely frostbitten. The skin was pink in a way that clearly should be painful.

... oh.

[ Even as he leans in to look closer, he cups the backs of those hands in his palms, and lets energy seep through, gentle and soothing. None of his healing teachers have told him this, it's how he's learned to do it when Jingyi has been hurt, and even Jin Ling. If he'd had the chance to help Senior Wei, it would have been the same; Hanguang-jun has never been hurt where Sizhui could see, once he was old enough for this. ]

I... think I have some things that can help. After all the cold in Sa-Hareth, I thought it would be a good thing to have some ways to alleviate cold that's deep enough to almost burn. [ He looks up at Chu Wanning with a smile that is small but sweet and bright, and no, he's not judging for the whole getting his fingers frostbitten thing. There are some things that are worth the pain, and even the risk. ] It will only take a little bit to mix them.

[ He lets the energy trail off once he feels that taking it away won't put them in the extremities in danger, and quickly takes out a few things from several small pouches at his waist, mixing them with a tiny bit of water in a small porcelain jar, and seals it with a few small pulses of spiritual energy. ]

Let me...

[ He unstoppers the jar again, dipping his fingers inside to bring out a goop of normal-enough medicinal ointment. He's improvising a little, since he's still learning, but the theory (in his head) seems sound enough. ]

[He doesn't say anything but he's...uncertain what to do. About the gentle trickle of spiritual energy through where they're touching or about the way this young man is smiling at him. There is a non-existent number of people who would smile at him like that.

(Mo Ran did, once upon a time, before he screwed everything up.)

He pulls his hands back though, when the medicine makes an appearance.]

Save it for yourself. My hands are well enough already.

[ Sizhui being Sizhui, that kind of smile is normal, and entirely honest - even the energy that he transfers is soft and warm and without reservation.

He shakes his head slightly. ]

This is for cold, Senior, and you could feel my fingers are well enough. Let me apply it, and if nothing else, it will do no harm.

[.....he is not acknowledging the first half of that statement because now that it's been pointed out his excuse does seem foolish.]

The energy you transferred just now is enough.

... Senior, enough for the sensation to not be as acute, or enough to use your fingers precisely and easily as they should be used?

[ ... yes, he's going to call him out on that, just a little. ]

[He looks you dead in the eye and says simply,]

Yes.

[He's a terrible liar but he's also very stubborn.]

[ It's also very hard to outstubborn one Lan Wangji, as most of the cultivation world is aware, and Sizhui was raised by him. So he just smiles gently at him, eyes wide and innocent - the good intent is not a lie in any way, after all - and holds up his fingers with the ointment in offer-supplication.

'Yes' did not answer Sizhui's question, anyway. ]

Open

iii. and not at all late

never late

YAY

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