groundrules: (Default)
let's set d o w n some ([personal profile] groundrules) wrote in [community profile] westwhere2022-02-20 06:30 pm

arc iii: house of ravens | arrival


Hi, everyone! Our Arc III arrival event covers 20 Feb-11 March and doubles as a test drive. Participants don’t need an invite to apply by 11 March. Reserves live here. Try to label if you’re a test drive tourist or an old timer — and have fun!



COTTAGEVORE




TDM TOURISTS | OLD TIMERS | COMMON PROMPTS | NOTES




TDM TOURISTS: THE SCENIC ROUTE

You flinch awake, hand weighed by a sharp stick, stone, or makeshift torch. Your clothes sit stiff, splattered with dried dirt and dusted leaves. Here and there, scratches and shallow wounds litter your limbs, the marks of days of dazed survival alone that you mistily remember. Your strength and supernatural powers are currently largely depleted, but should recover within two to three days.

As they journey, characters discover stretches of the eerily silent forests briefly transform into woodlands or recognisable spots of nature from their home worlds — perhaps they’re now seeing the meadows outside their home towns, their backyard orchard, or a fondly remembered lake pier. These images are short-lived illusions that other characters can also see.

Mind your steps: the mirages try to lure characters deep into the forest, where unfriendly animals and hidden pits wait.

A. THE MORE, THE MERRIER

Trailing through the labyrinthine woods, you stumble upon a group of heavily armed bandits who are already herding several captives. Depending on how agitated you are, expect shackles, leashes and tusk pendants that allow characters to speak and glean local tongues — including the thugs' barked instructions. The outlaws are on a three-day voyage to cursed village Ke-Waihu, where they intend to sell their prisoners to the Hok-Shinn criminal clan.

■ Ensure fellow captives survive the trek, avoiding leg-hold traps, snares and hunting nets.

■ Beatings continue, but morale never improves: help mouthy prisoners with their tasks or wounds.

■ Capture or forage food — and stop naïve captives from going deeper into the forest to follow glimpses of beautiful (wo)men or cries for help. There’s nobody there.

■ At night, prisoners are locked in stitched-shut tents — get friendly quickly.


B. JUST CRUISING

The bandits never saw you coming — but you’ve been watching them collect their prey. Perhaps you’ve even found others like you — also spared enslavement, but condemned to trail after the thugs towards Ke-Waihu. Characters can pick up discarded translation and communication tusk pendants, scraps of food and frail weapons.

■ Beware: superstitious thieves frequently patrol at night, while woodland predators are emboldened by the absence of fires.

■ Leave messages or instructions to the bandits’ captives (tree husk carvings, anyone?) and maybe try to rescue them.

■ ...or leave them for dead and trot on to Ke-Waihu. You savage.


» GO CAMPING, THEY SAID





OLD TIMERS: CURSES FOR ONE, CURSES FOR ALL


After a bumpy ride aboard the Salamera II, the party arrive at idyllic village Ke-Waihu.

They are greeted by Hok-Shinn Weisi, the slippery mayor who officially helms Ke-Waihu, while his brother Sairen leads the clan’s heavy underground ventures. Weisi’s flippant and spoiled son Taksui is the Merchant’s local liaison. The botanist Enam and his apprentices set out to explore, taking the group's baggage along.

Weisi was told the party members are families of Taravast refugees, seeking finer fates in Ke-Waihu. Each family has been assigned a humble but serviceable dwellingsee what luck has in store for you.

Weisi officially welcomes the newcomers in Ke-Waihu’s main bustling marketplace. Every merchant, fishmonger and beggar stops to watch as foreigners are briefly stripped of their ostentatious jewels, clothes or weapons, soaked in iced water and told to embrace the village by accepting its old, its new, its ugliness and its truths.

■ To join the community, characters must absorb and redeem the wrongdoings of a deceased ancestor. They are served flasks of a thick, bitter brew that slides down mildly corrosive and cold.

■ The brew’s effects vary: some drinkers feel only a sudden, electric awareness of the story behind the curse they inherited. Others feel scalded from the inside, agonising for hours. The ancestral curse effects start to take hold that night.

■ Characters are sent off to their new homes in Ke-Waihu — but are contacted within hours by one of Enam’s anguished apprentices. His master and his peers were captured by bandits while inspecting the elusive forests for plant specimens. These wicked men took everything: your goods, your Ellethian high fashion, your extra weapons, even your Sleeping Zenobius. Go get’em — but beware the deadly illusions of Ke-Waihu’s forest.


» DUDE, WHERE’S MY COMATOSE SLEEPER?






ALL TOGETHER NOW

The thugs, the old timers, the test drive prisoners and their creepy watchers collide in the mist-drowned forests of Ke-Waihu.

A. BANDIT BANE

■ Infiltrate the thug group in, kick some outlaws’ teeth on the way out.

■ Release and escort roughened-up newcomers to Ke-Waihu, picking up strays along the way.

■ One of the thugs snitches that the remaining stolen loot is hoarded in a nearby secluded cave, drowned under foliage. The entrance is watched by large, agitated boars with startlingly hard, but not impervious skin. With gold, gems, guns within reach, anyone for pork dinner?

■ After speaking with the new arrivals, party botanist and guide Enam confirms they have been summoned to serve as weapons in this world’s ongoing conflict between warring undead factions. The Merchant, Enam’s collaborator and the party’s patron, is leading otherworlders east, where forgotten beacons might return them home.

■ The villagers Ke-Waihu, Ke-Waiar and Ke-Waicai reportedly know the location of such a beacon. They will unveil it if the party breaks the curse of the House of Ravens.




B. THE BLUSHING BRIDE

When the group returns, Ke-Waihu is celebrating the joyous procession of dozens of lavish 'weddings.' The (false) rites are carried out to commemorate the marriage of a huntsman and his fox bride...

■ The roads are awash with flower petals and rice, houses extend their hospitality freely, and the rich give away coin. Even Hok-Shinn clansmen don their finest garments and hand out gifts and favours, while lawmen grant pardons to captives held for minor offences.

■ Villagers pose as 'brides' and 'grooms' to play act public weddings. Characters are asked to participate as brides and grooms, or to join the wedding retinue of a NPC villager. Characters can unknowingly marry, but not become foxes.

■ The evening culminates in a grand market fete, with stalls offering sickly sweets and strong alcohols. Poets recite love songs, professional weepers wail to strangers that they lost their children to insidious in-laws, and petty clashes erupt among merrymakers.

■ Some of the NPC fox 'brides' seem to grow wide-eyed and alert, suspicious of the many hunting dogs that watchmen walk around the marketplace.

■ Come nightfall, 'wedded' pairs are escorted to suites in a large and extravagant inn. For each 'couple,' accommodations comprise one room for the retinue and a linked conjugal bedroom.


IF CHARACTERS MARRY A (FOX) 'SPOUSE':

■ They are handed three pieces of parchment before they are locked into the marital suite with their consort and their retinue.

■ Once alone in their 'marital quarter,' characters first enjoy polite conversation with their spouse, whose eyes start to glimmer golden, while their teeth and claws lengthen, their mouths distort to snouts and their hair reddens. The fox brides do not seem aware they are, in fact, foxes, but try to scratch, bite or maim their partners. Viciously quick, strong and prone to thralling their victims into spells of lethargy, these foxes could get the best of you — happily, the little parchment papers you received can share some survival tips.

Fool the fox spouse into thinking you are already married or pledged to someone in your retinue. Affronted, the fox bride will exile you out of the wedding room. Refresh the salt lines that surround the conjugal room, and gently steer the fox back if it flees overnight.

Your retinue and you should impersonate a hunting hound, down to howling, running on all-fours and sniffling. The fox will hurriedly isolate itself in the conjugal room, but will actively try to escape at night. Keep every inn door and window closed.

Become a widow(er). Call your retinue and make the best of your fists and a butter knife. You will need to kill the spouse a few times before they stay fully dead, each time reviving more and more fox-like in appearance.


AS A WEDDING RETINUE MEMBER:

■ Awkwardly hold watch outside the conjugal bedroom of the dashing NPC cannon fodder groom and his fox bride.

■ The NPC groom might request help as above — or might fall deathly silent. If that happens, villagers instruct, character must loudly ask if the wine pleases the couple. The flushed, visibly fox-like bride will then open the door to complain their new consort — clawed dead in the marital bed — won’t even share a wine cup with them. The fox does not seem to grasp they have killed their groom.

■ Defeat the fox at drinking — the fox bride can hold its cups, but slipping in some of the relaxing opiates on hand will help the cause. Sneak the NPC groom's corpse out with a buddy when the fox drops asleep.

Or prove you are a fairer marital prospect by verbally wooing the fox or doing battle with your retinue companion, to prove your worth. Your wingman may wish to throw the fight, feed lines, or generally smoulder. The fox bride will offer the NPC corpse as a betrothal gift.


Come morning, the villagers open the now-delapidated inn. Those who survive fox weddings receive braided bracelets of red, golden and tangerine rope, earning good will in the village. The murderous fox brides have disappeared — in their place, yellowed and dust-drenched bones 'sleep' in the marital beds, covered by withered and torn wedding clothes.

Villagers share the whole story: a huntsman encountered a fox goddess in the forest, when she had taken the shape of a beautiful woman. Lovestruck, he brought her back to Ke-Waihu as his wife — but the horrified villager slaughtered her and her husband on their wedding night. The fox god cursed the village to relieve yearly 'fox weddings,' during which the bones of those murdered during the previous 'conjugal' festivities rise as brides to terrorise new spouses.

Skipping the fox wedding rites, villagers say, shrivels their crops and depletes their food stocks for several seasons.




C. A-HUNTING WE WILL GO

It’s all fun and wedding games, until one of the victims of the recent nuptials is the son of influential wine merchant Saguk Chaomin. He vengefully sponsors a a hunt to finally lift the foxes’ curse.

Saguk Chaomin assigns weapons — from knives, spears and sharpened sticks to bows, arrows and rifles operating on gun powder — alongside lanterns and climbing rope to the brave adventurers. The contingent splinters into smaller groups to avoid detection.

■ The forests now aggressively conspire to lead characters to their deaths: whether it’s through fostering illusions that trip them into gullies, or decrepit bridges that crumble, sending travellers into whirling river waters. Animals (excluding wolves) attack travellers fiercely. Keep a hunting hound close.

■ Characters with unusual physical features or suspicious behaviours — from supernatural powers to a fear of dogs — are accused of being shape-shifting foxes.

■ Fox spirits assume a mortal but resilient shape the day after the wedding — strong, large, feral and willy. They’re quick to bite, and their presence dulls the senses of hunters.

■ To exorcise the foxes, kill their mortal bodies or obliterate or repair their small, decaying forest altars. These are stone rings the size of one’s hand, often hidden at the root of ancient trees. Cleanse the altars of filth, vermin and predatory creatures, and replenish the stones with fresh river pieces. Beware rare fox spirits that come to protect altars or hide their young.





D. WELL, WELL, WELL

In the wake of the weddings, characters head to their abodes, while test drivers are garrisoned in communal temporary shelters. Over the next few days, everyone may notice:

■ Villagers have a marrow-deep fear of the Hok-Shinn clan, whose members behave as if they are immune from repercussions.

■ Villagers tell eerie tales of strange encounters in their locked stables, abandoned houses or wells — they have seen a creature with the head of a beautiful woman, whose hair braids to form her snake-like body. 'She' slithers away once discovered.

■ Word spreads across the marketplace that dark waters have returned. A farmer’s well has dried, leaving only a thickened, tar-like liquid at the bottom. Another villager shamefully admits his well also dried a month ago, clogged by dark filth — the fount was old, and he assumed it had naturally depleted.

■ Horrified villagers speak no more of this, but superstitiously volunteer flower and food tributes for the Ka-Sanwon volcano. Mayor Hok-Shinn Weisi intercedes to reserve the resources for the upcoming return of the patron lord of the volcano’s three villages — the undead Beastmaster.



QUESTIONS

scrapgege: (017-01)

[personal profile] scrapgege 2022-02-27 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[He probably needs to explain a bit more, huh. Oh well.]

It's more that I don't really register pain anymore. I guess I can feel them, it just doesn't really bother me.

[Please don't ask how he's come to be like that, Anduin, it's not a pretty story.]
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (25)

[personal profile] blackscales 2022-02-27 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Friendship? In this economy?

It's more likely than you think. Considering how much he seems to frustrate her, he's flattered she'd suggest it. ]


I have not had many people call me that.

[ Big surprise, he's quite sure, given his... temperament. He inclines his head a little in acceptance. ]

It would be an honour. I will do my best to live up to the high standard I have no doubt you set as an example.

[ Hermione will clearly be much better at the friend thing, he has no delusions about it. ]
reparo: (flight)

imagine that gif from 30 rock

[personal profile] reparo 2022-02-27 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[It happens in the blink of an eye, and surprises her. Five? Apparating? But he didn't strike her as a wizard at all!

She spins around a little, trying to find where he went - if he went anywhere nearby, or familiar - just in case of danger. Nothing - and then there's heaving sounds in the nearby bushes. She goes a little green herself, but approaches.]


...there there.
reparo: (obliteration charm)

[personal profile] reparo 2022-02-27 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
"No, but I did the whole..." She clears her throat, and shifts, uncomfortable and awkward. Hopefully he's not thinking she was serious about the whole fake fiancée story. Because she wasn't.

Whatever comes next, she will need to tell Wrathion about her blunder, and let him decide if it's amusing, pragmatic or outrageous.

Just not yet.

"You've nothing to feel ashamed of, just so you know." Look at all her honesty and good heart.
scrapgege: (020-02)

[personal profile] scrapgege 2022-02-27 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[Xie Lian will take the flowers with a smile.]

Thank you.

[He will arrange them actually rather artfully. He was a crown prince before he became a god, and he was educated like a gentleman should be.]

There, that should do it.

[Indeed, the fox looks satisfied, and Xie Lian gives a little bow with his hands clasped before standing up and dusting himself.]

Right, on to the next one.
Edited 2022-02-27 19:30 (UTC)
reparo: (Default)

[personal profile] reparo 2022-02-27 07:44 pm (UTC)(link)
[And if it makes him feel better about it, not many people call her theirs either.] It's about substance over quantity, I'm certain.

[They might both be abbrassive people. Or one abbrassive human and one whatever-he-may-be. A very physically hot person.]

I look forward to it. [And she's 100% sure she will nag him along the way into doing good.]
somebadnews: (211)

[personal profile] somebadnews 2022-02-27 07:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Not a lot actually comes up for the amount of heaving he does, but it burns his throat and seems to make everything that much worse, so that's... something. He doesn't notice Hermione has come over until he eventually sits back up, and has a serious debate on how much he should keep trying to get it out of his system.

He might have waited until they got to the house, but well. When you willingly ingest poison against all of your better judgment sometimes it's better not to sit on these things.

He just glances at her briefly and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, mildly out of breath for trying. ]


Shit.
enucleation: DEFAULT - DEFAULT (Default)

[personal profile] enucleation 2022-02-27 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh they are so nice ('=

- Kaneki will be OK giving them the doll for free even but he warns them every time he tried to get rid of her before, the doll would just return to him.

- he also would like to offer to help the mother só he will ask the witches if they know of a way he could help.

- and finally he did mean he wanted to help the witches, so he will offer to hunt boar and deer for them if they wish. Or anything else that is within his power.
Edited 2022-02-27 20:24 (UTC)
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (13)

[personal profile] blackscales 2022-02-27 08:21 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ah! Does that mean she considers him a good friend candidate too? He hopes so! He thinks about this, then nods again. ]

As do I, Hermione.

[ Then, with the slightly awkward mannerisms of someone who clearly knows this is a Thing People Do but is entirely out of practice, Wrathion hesitantly reaches out and... touches her gently on her upper arm. Yes. Good. Contact. This is, he thinks, correct. ]

Thank you.

[ Saying thank you is important, he thinks? Right. Good, Excellent. Totally nailed this. He drops his hand, moves slightly away from the and fusses down some more of his hair ready to step out of the alley. Wouldn't do to walk out suspiciously ruffled. ]

Let me know if there is anything I can assist with, and... be careful. There is much we don't know about this place.

[ He's quite sure it will be dangerous. ]
reparo: (Default)

[personal profile] reparo 2022-02-27 08:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[Dear Merlin, that was one awkward arm touch. Was hers awkward earlier? Hopefully not, since she was doing it for a spell. Maybe Wrathion is rusty at these social cues.

He's, unfortunately, not evolved into the easily affectionate friendship territory.]


That's wisdom I intend to keep in mind.

[And then she'll agree to be a pretend bride in a wedding ceremony to a fox spirit.]
chosenbylight: do not take (135)

[personal profile] chosenbylight 2022-02-27 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Anduin blinks in response to Hermione's words of reassurance.

Nothing to be ashamed of.

"I..." he begins, then stops, trailing off and pressing his lips together. "It's. It's not so much that I feel ashamed of -- the way that I feel. It is just that I..."

He casts a glance to the side then back toward Hermione, the look in his eyes somewhat strained.

"It's complicated, Hermione. And I know how that sounds, I know that it -- sounds like an excuse but. Who I am, back at home, and. The things that have happened between us in the past, I. Would not even know where to begin."
reparo: (arithmancy)

[personal profile] reparo 2022-02-27 08:33 pm (UTC)(link)
"I can imagine how difficult that might be," she murmurs, almost under her breath. She pauses, then looks up suddenly, a thought crossing her mind that prompts a frown.

"Would he react poorly to hearing it, do you think?" Because she will fight Wrathion if he turns out to be a bigot.
enucleation: DEFAULT - DEFAULT (Default)

[personal profile] enucleation 2022-02-27 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Godamnit doll


Anyway! Since the witches won't help, Kaneki will leave food (meat and fish) for the snake lady in places where she has been sighted. At least to help her a bit because he sympathizes with mothers (since Kaneki has mommy issues).

Besides that, I think that's all for now (= thank you!
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (13)

[personal profile] blackscales 2022-02-27 10:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Wrathion cannot honestly say he has spent time in Westfall, but he has at least travelled through it on occasion to get to other, more interesting places.

That's enough to, at a glance, recognise its unusual features.

"Be on your guard," he advises gently, "remember, this could be hiding more traps."

Anduin would no doubt be frustrated if he walked himself into a trap and had to be cut down. Neither of them are fond of anything close to the sensation of failure or embarrassment.
chosenbylight: do not take (068)

[personal profile] chosenbylight 2022-02-27 10:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Anduin raises his eyebrows at the question, surprised she is asking.

"I -- don't know," he says honestly. "I think he would be. Surprised. I'm not certain he would know how to react himself. He is..." He hesitates slightly, once again uncertain of how to explain himself. He supposes he should say something though, for all of their sakes.

"Our friendship has suffered its ups and downs, not to speak of anything else. He -- made a mistake, and it cost us both dearly. Years later, I think we are only now learning to -- make amends. If I were to complicate that with anything more..."
chosenbylight: do not take (015)

[personal profile] chosenbylight 2022-02-27 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
[Anduin raises his eyebrows at the other man in surprise.

Cannot register pain anymore? There is a story behind that, and Anduin wonders if he should ask or not.]


Oh. Well. If -- you are certain...?

[He leaves the question in the look on his face. If Xie Lian wants to explain, he can. If not -- he will leave it at that.]
downswing: (pillow talk)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-27 11:40 pm (UTC)(link)
( We must do what we cannot. Was this woman so frail, mere heartbeats before, a tender addition of dust motes and tattered bone? And no more than the trodden wisps of illusion, she, a golden weight on the table that sighs her burden? She feels ephemeral, still in her chrysalis — as if, if only they wait and wait and wait, butterfly wings will tear and cannibalise her flesh, and push her birth-wide and wet open?

The spirit within her calls to Lan Wangji, half-mute, pale and waiting. He does not know which — gambles with the predatory tickling of one cord of the guqin, then the next, qi notes elliptical. What do you want? )


I am not of the Jiang.

( Attempt, and in the pale-tipped crown of their heaven-spearing mountains, the Gusu Lan only succeed. Lay stake, claim victory and glory. Attempt the impossible, but, Do not begin what you will not see finished.

How is it the men of Gusu Lan ever forgive themselves their own death? Red stains the inside of Wangji's eyes, rusts to starless dark. He wants to scream, but his jaws lock, young. )


Will the day come when you do not bleed me of the impossible?

( Past the gates of Cloud Recesses, where he is more than mere, sedate fixture and defender of the infant disciples, swarmed — he is abstracted to the print of his cruelties. Reduced like a drop of oil in a cup of water, rotating into the perfect form — a sphere of his own substance. Recalibrating.

He feels so often unfinished beside Wei Ying, who smells warm despite his death, lived-in. The sun trails after his nape — lands clean and crisp here, now, Wei Ying's hair briefly contracted by the headband's bind, then spilled. He plays, to avoid tickling the beam and its braid in Wei Ying's hair, resolute. )


You do not wish the spirit decimated. Then — ( And his palm passes the guqin strings, fingers pinch and dangle. ) Coax it free. I claim the girl.

( Let each mind his mission. )
downswing: (hands off the chicken)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-27 11:57 pm (UTC)(link)
( Precedent ill favours them in encounter. Lan Wangji has seen the boy — the cannibal, the unflinching monster — devour flesh before Wangjis' unblinking eyes and entertain not the mote of a shadow of regret. Perhaps his heart is drained of guilt and innocence, just as poverty and resignation have exorcised fear from the husks of these people like pestilence. Perhaps the boy simply never knew common mores, to start.

Lan Wangji does not welcome him. Barely bartered the lethargy of his step long enough to allow an addition, however faithful, in the squeezed geometries of the negative space defined by his run. He thinks, idly, to trip the boy out of sight — but Lan Wangji is no child, and before them the creature slithers as if she were a great snake, jaw unhinged and her body elastic, whipping and thrashing like distant smoke.

Had he not glimpsed her face and its jaws, Lan Wangji might not have known her human. But he saw is pallor reflected in her own, tastes the strange, animal fear that exudes from her as he — they give chase, gravel ricocheting underfoot. As the crop fields stab the skies young and golden into view, he thinks to give Kaneki direction, turns to see him and spots — ...the growth. On his back. Ah. )


You are. ( And how to best, unfailingly, unblinkingly, breath bartered with difficulty — sum up Kaneki's circumstances today? ) With child?

( Can Kaneki not once prevail over normalcy? Once? )
downswing: (extend)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-28 12:05 am (UTC)(link)
( A child.

He forgets, when he seems them small but ever prone to murder, swords or sticks in their hands and poison on their tongues — that they have herded cats and children. That Hermione is no better than the fragile sum of her years.

Slaughter is one side of the coin, and diplomacy has failed us. Embittered by jostling, Lan Wangji's back threatens to cripple with bruising. Time does not favour them. Creativity here could never achieve progress.

He intends to speak these truths, but his mouth dries a husk, each gasped breath a pained necessity that shreds his throat. Violence only ever joins the marriage bed of violence, and their birthing one spawns much the same. It is knows. He knows, and yet, what recourse? )


You need not look.

( Allow him. He is of war, clasp hard on his sword. He will see the day to finish. )
downswing: (medusa)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-28 12:13 am (UTC)(link)
Power, prestige and pay invite assassination.

( A simple truth, easily bidden of Zewu-Jun's fragile, dignified mouth. And he remembers, oh, Lan Wangji remembers what it means to be the brother of the better man, of the leader of a sect: that they spend an incense stick's burn of each evening in wait of the master exorcists and curse breakers who cleanse Zewu-Jun's quarters of evil and inspect them of the slightest trickle of poisoned malice. That they assign him the wealth of an escort, at all times. That Zewu-Jun declines the caution of a dish taster, but only eats from the table of his hosts at great fetes.

That Lan Wangji watches and waits and knows he is a spare and dreads the looming possibility of becoming heir — xiandu on this day, leader of all sects above even his native Gusu Lan, for a farce of convenience. Rank will not stay with him, strips his skin and bristles his bones.

He has the privilege of shedding an unwanted existence. Zewu-Jun can never be less than what a precarious alignment of constellations made of him. No less, Lan Wangji accepts with the slow, feline tipping of his head, can Anduin. )


Rank is as nothing here.

( Breathe. A crown sprawls in silvered filigree atop Lan Wangji's hair, even now. Wei Ying's choosing, but the symbol persists. And what does it matter, what will base metal win Wangji? Blood will not stay unspilled for his voice here, soldiers will not join his banner.

The great men of one world slip to their knees just as prettily as the beggars of another. )
downswing: (dandelion)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-28 12:28 am (UTC)(link)
( He... is denied. Of course. The lesser, unexperienced exorcist thinks himself the superior strategist. Heavens spare Lan Wangji diplomats possessed of a sword.

He follows — hesitating, step slowed. The groom has withered, the fox bride reduced to her animal bearings. Beneath the eye of candles and their golden, dimmed pallor, Lan Wangji barely seems them as human. They occupy for him the same space as obstacles, as inanimate objects.

He casts the ward before the knows the deed done, air crackling and electric, and the bride restrained in a tight, vicious enclosure. Apologies, madam. It will not keep long. )


We kill her without study, we learn nothing if there are more.

( If they can unite to pose a threat as a reunion of creatures, where the one hereby fails. )
downswing: (七)

[personal profile] downswing 2022-02-28 12:32 am (UTC)(link)
( A simple thing, to extricate themselves after — the fox bride feverish, aggrieved. Insulted but for how pride seems to poison her limbs and burden them with lead. Lan Wangji does not bow again — subtracts himself from the difficult equation of another man's marital congress and feels the sting of red stain binding his wrist, a hair ribbon's claim and marker.

The air's crisp when they flee the room, vinegary in stark comparison to the cloying sweetness of the candles within the marital quarters. He frowns, half intrigued by the strength of the fox's thralls, half disturbed by his own blindness — deceived by the bride's spells, when they brought her in.

The parchments say, Watch her, for the evening, that she should not flee. He hands the morsel of paper to his companion, their instruction shard. Then, gravelly: )


Apologies. I cannot wed.

( ...in case the man's interest was honest and true. )
blackscales: Commission, Do Not Take! (25)

[personal profile] blackscales 2022-02-28 01:14 am (UTC)(link)
"He might be," Wrathion admits, "but in a cause-and-effect sense, rather than as an active operative. We're not certain of his full history, beyond being involved in some experimental activity involved magic mirrors. The fact that he goes by an alias isn't auspicious."

That usually indicates something to hide, after all. He tilts his head, thoughtful.

"The undead here work in factions, each with a figurehead who has different... talents, so to speak. Localised decay, mind control over beasts, and so on. It seems they have enough forces behind them to destroy entire cities, and those they haven't eradicated operate a sort of protection racket -- they offer something to the undead legions in return for being left alone. A city we were at previously sent supplies of weapons in return for their safety."

Page 18 of 43