downswing: (endgame)
ʟᴀɴ ᴡᴀɴɢᴊɪ | 蓝忘机 ([personal profile] downswing) wrote in [community profile] westwhere 2022-04-22 09:35 pm (UTC)

[ Hissed mockery, plain ridicule. A mask of theatre, crassly painted, would show Five's derisiveness no less vulgar. He thinks, they would have been allies once, on a battlefield where duress married despair, and its children armed them against a common foe. Yet so often Five turns to spit in the face of a friend.

It wearies Lan Wangji, the stale, empty heat of the rooms shifting, and he breathes, he breathes, he listens, he tips his head back and briefly gazes where the mouth of the ceiling is hollow pallor, and nothingness winks back like a child learning to tease. White is for mourning, white is the death of possibility. A summer, sultry sickness.

White weeps in his silks, lost in Wei Ying's hands, for he wears Wei Ying's black robes instead, and he is not himself — only the monster the night has created, and as such, reedy: ]


I came for reparations. [ A pacifist, a fool, a fraud. A warrior, his weapons deserting him. He cannot do battle here. ] To bear my fault, absent excuses.

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