downswing: (corset)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2022-03-05 01:11 am (UTC)

( She aches with her exorcism, with Wei Ying's intrusion, groans and howls out the detritus of her silences form, and she is grit, gravel, smoke — chasm, her jaws unhinging, dark and bold and all-encompassing.

He thinks, if she were a snake —

Thinks, if Lan Wangji were not sworn to the sword, if Bichen did not blink and peer and cut, when he inclines her —

Thinks, if he did not cleave the spirit's mouths in a thief's long smile, deep and restless

But he precedes thought with action, and Bichen strikes once, true. The phantasm screams, yowling and crass madness and the nail-scratched shrieks of reedy dissolution. He listens to the silence descend and his breath tinny and raw, how it blunts the surface, and the angry welting drip of sweat on his nape.

One blow will not decimate a spirit, but she wears injury well.

To draw Wei Ying back would have stirred and stoked chase. He had no choice. This was not their agreement. He had no choice. His sword drifts down, and he turns, stiff and doll-like, limbs laden, and does not know how to speak this to Wei Ying, that he —

...he had no choice. )


It — ...apologies. ( The second motion, perfunctory containment: two plays of the guqin, and the spirit is loosely encased, isolated. ) Contained. She is contained.

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