( As commands of withdrawal go, Wrath lacks the distinctly gravelly tone of voice that recommended Chifeng-Zun as a force to be reckoned with: he speaks, and Lan Wangji suffers no extraordinary compulsion to face his enemies with a full heart, his potential lice with dignified resignation and a six-day-old stew with mitigated, reined-in horror. No, Wrath could not have hoped to inspire the youth of the Sunshot Campaign to perform the dance steps of their routine trauma.
He is too... sophisticated. Polite. Reasonable. Lan Wangji, lashes long and weed-like, slow-blinked, watches him with serpentine interest and a healthy, mature understanding that Wrath might raise and drag and shove slap him down, if need be — but he would be of the kind who always abashedly ensures that Lan Wangji is positioned in an aesthetic bundle of dramatic, silken geometries after. He's a dependable force of mayhem like that, is Wrath.
And Wangji, all but tossing the shard at his feet on the pier, is precisely why the Heavens no longer give the sect Gusu Lan any blessings. )
Take it. ( He is bleeding, red wet of his hand warm, but a scratch will not be the end of him. Even the shark-like attention of the hostile corpses beneath does not latch long on his silhouette, for a slip of hemorrhage. ) We cannot waste opportunity.
( This is, as a corpse suddenly plunges out of the water then seems to want to.. thrust itself on Lan Wangji's back... maybe not the best time or place for a domestic. )
no subject
( As commands of withdrawal go, Wrath lacks the distinctly gravelly tone of voice that recommended Chifeng-Zun as a force to be reckoned with: he speaks, and Lan Wangji suffers no extraordinary compulsion to face his enemies with a full heart, his potential lice with dignified resignation and a six-day-old stew with mitigated, reined-in horror. No, Wrath could not have hoped to inspire the youth of the Sunshot Campaign to perform the dance steps of their routine trauma.
He is too... sophisticated. Polite. Reasonable. Lan Wangji, lashes long and weed-like, slow-blinked, watches him with serpentine interest and a healthy, mature understanding that Wrath might raise and drag and shove slap him down, if need be — but he would be of the kind who always abashedly ensures that Lan Wangji is positioned in an aesthetic bundle of dramatic, silken geometries after. He's a dependable force of mayhem like that, is Wrath.
And Wangji, all but tossing the shard at his feet on the pier, is precisely why the Heavens no longer give the sect Gusu Lan any blessings. )
Take it. ( He is bleeding, red wet of his hand warm, but a scratch will not be the end of him. Even the shark-like attention of the hostile corpses beneath does not latch long on his silhouette, for a slip of hemorrhage. ) We cannot waste opportunity.
( This is, as a corpse suddenly plunges out of the water then seems to want to.. thrust itself on Lan Wangji's back... maybe not the best time or place for a domestic. )