( ...perhaps this did not evolve precisely as planned. One arm fettered over his shoulder, the second yoking Emilia, the man appears — deep in his cups, and it strikes Lan Wangji as an element of last-moment thespian brilliance to gently droop his lids down, until he appears to gaze blearily at the floor.
When he hums his approval towards Emilia — Naturally. — the wind howls its laughter, and rain chases long punitive lines of lashing on his nape.
It's a slow drag after, encumbered by stumbles: nails like teeth on hard floor, the catch of the man's wet boots a squelching, wheezing altercation. At midday on deck, they would be an imposition. Come night time, with slow rain on their backs, they are a note of discordance most sailors appear content to tolerate, until they conspire towards drawing attention.
It's inevitable, when they snag the eye of a man on watch. When he trots forward, and nods at their... drunken companion with speculative caution. "Wass with'im?"
Helplessness does not suit Lan Wangji. Lies, less. His eyes cast down, and he allows Emilia precedence in their farce. )
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When he hums his approval towards Emilia — Naturally. — the wind howls its laughter, and rain chases long punitive lines of lashing on his nape.
It's a slow drag after, encumbered by stumbles: nails like teeth on hard floor, the catch of the man's wet boots a squelching, wheezing altercation. At midday on deck, they would be an imposition. Come night time, with slow rain on their backs, they are a note of discordance most sailors appear content to tolerate, until they conspire towards drawing attention.
It's inevitable, when they snag the eye of a man on watch. When he trots forward, and nods at their... drunken companion with speculative caution. "Wass with'im?"
Helplessness does not suit Lan Wangji. Lies, less. His eyes cast down, and he allows Emilia precedence in their farce. )