only go so far 'til you bury them

[somebadnews]

WHO: Five and OPEN
WHEN: This very day / post retrieving a new sword from Eleven
WHERE: The Lake
WHAT: Five kills a dead guy
WARNINGS: (always) warnings for language, soggy corpse descriptions, etc.
On the surface, it's a simple task. Killing someone who is already dead is a bit redundant, but Five has made worse deals. Eleven had proven reliable in providing a fresh sword, and the energy he spent teleporting them to the forges was acceptable in the time they saved. Vanya has already lifted the lake once before so there's no need to be nervous about her using her abilities. It's as good as done.

He hasn't mentioned to his sister exactly what he was getting from the Merchant in return, though his conversation is still in the forefront of his mind as they make their way to the lake. The implications he used reminded him of the Commission, but he hasn't come to a solid conclusion about that. He at least no longer doubts what he knows about him after their agreement. Why he wants it done is more up in the air. It's either a test to see if he'd do it, or his action will stop whatever lingering spirits have been terrorizing these woods.

It's unfortunate that he had to involve his sister, and he'd been even more reluctant to allow the others who come along. Mingyu had made a strong enough case that they might learn something that will benefit them in the future before he takes care of the body, but that doesn't mean he's at all happy with the arrangement. He barely looks at the man when they meet together at the lake and he spots the others who were likewise insistent on dealing with the aftermath.

Five has never enjoyed an audience, had in fact tried to keep this quiet to avoid this very thing, so he ignores them as he scans the woods. The lake is still and it's silent but for the wind whipping past. He sees no signs of the wolves nearby or Anurr's followers watching them. While he's not comfortable with the amount of trust he's putting in the others to make sure nothing comes after his sister while he's down there, he tries his best to accept some unknown variables that he can undoubtedly handle.

"Are you up for this?" Vanya is the only one he bothers addressing. It'll be more strenuous on her part, and now she'll need to hold it long enough for Mingyu to do whatever it is he needs to do. While he's eager to get it over with, he won't put any of his anxiety on her. (The deal was for her even if she doesn't realize it yet. This is just... some more practice. That's all.)

Hopefully it'll be worth it.


ooc: if you want to have extra sections for during/after this goes down lmk (or make your own starter, it's fine) we make the rules

Comments

pre/during the overkill (open to: five/vanya/mingyu/wei wuxian/lan wangji)

[somebadnews]

[remugient]

Vanya isn't really all that worried. There's a little bit of anxiety with having more people around to witness it and all, but generally she feels... pretty okay.

"Yeah." Her voice is still a little breathless though and she gives a little smile. "Nothing I haven't done before. I got this. Piece of cake. Like, uh...riding a bicycle, you know?"

She realizes, though, that the more she tries to reassure everyone--and herself--the more uncertain about it she sounds. She clears her throat and shrugs. "It'll help, right? Better than sitting around and feeding the chickens all day."

Again she tries to keep her voice light, but she misses Sissy sometimes, a dull ache in her chest.

[somebadnews]

Even if Five wouldn't blame her if she had reservations, he could see that she's getting more confident in her abilities. She was even getting better back in the '60's, and he's seen her continue to work on them here without a major misstep. Thankfully, after that rough arrival on the ship, she's managed to steer clear of anything that might have set off a chain reaction, and he's been doing his best to keep it that way.

When she asks if it will help, he nods.

"Couldn't do it without you." He tries to give her a reassuring smile and banish any thoughts that he's asking too much or something could go wrong. Somehow this is where they've ended up; Vanya moving major bodies of water while Five holds a sword ready to stab a corpse at the bottom of a lake. If they ever get around to swapping stories, she can be the one to tell the rest of their family about it.

He casts one more glance at the others and his expression falls slightly, but then focuses his attention back on her.

"Take your time. He's not going anywhere."

[remugient]

"Hey." Vanya pauses, staring at Five for a long moment. She's not sure why they're doing this and going through all this trouble. She doesn't know who this guy was supposed to be or why it matters-- there's a lot about this place she's starting to realize she really doesn't know. She'd hoped he wouldn't have to know, that they could pop back home again soon or find the others. What if they were all split by time again? Had the others been here for days, weeks, years before them?

It all makes her feel a little uneasy, a little untethered and lost. She takes a breath and smiles a bit at Five.

"We got this. Klaus would have something to say about all this, but when doesn't he?" She shrugs, then turns to face the lake, taking a breath and closing her eyes. She focuses on all the little--and not-so-little-- noises she can hear. Wildlife. The wind. The ripples of water and the swishing of fabrics. The sound of everyone's breathing, their heartbeats... It all seems to tumble together in her head, at first a cacophony of noise that makes her brow furrow before it all seems to fade into something quietly tangible.

She's not sure how to explain it really as she holds her hands out, listening to the vibrations of the world until she can pull them together and push and slowly the water rises.

[somebadnews]

At her prompting, Five tilts his head and waits attentively for her to say what's on her mind. Part of him wonders if she's going to ask. It's not unusual for him to not tell his family everything, but Vanya has always been a weakness of his. If she confronted him about what he's leaving out of the story, why it matters to him, he might have to admit to more of the reason behind all this.

Instead she chooses to trust him.

His expression softens at her reassurance, even as she's about to do most of the (literal) heavy lifting. This isn't the first time she's tried to lighten his mood by mentioning one of their siblings, and it's true. Klaus would definitely have said something. Probably something nonsensical. Mostly he thinks he might have been surprised that Five would be helping a spirit move on in the afterlife. Of all of them, he might be the one to approve. (Then immediately doubt his motives. Which is fair.)

He takes a deep breath and nods. It's still moderately nerve wrecking for him to see her use her ability considering how short of time she's had to master it, but as long as she stays centered, there's no reason why it shouldn't go as smoothly as before.

As the water rises, it's really something to behold. His sister is extraordinary. If their father had ever given her a chance, hadn't been afraid of her, think of what could have happened. His entire life...

"Signal if there's trouble. Should only be a few minutes." No getting sidetracked. One thing at a time.

He grips the sword and looks to Mingyu. The man insisted on being here, so he'd better not hold them up. Not when he's leaving his sister exposed while she's carrying an entire lake with her mind. They're teleporting down there the moment he sees the body and getting this over with.

post............. double-bake kill

[downswing]

The body, drenched in the lake's wet, lessened of its life waters — a rag wrung knot-tight and hungry, coarse. Like sunrise here, Lan Wangji comes late. Watches the boy's shell and the spirit that roams it soak themselves too in glimmered gold, ice speckled and darting between stabs of reflected light — watches, and breathes with the last of the cadaver's exhalation, too late to set the matter stopped.

And he waits, the way of stillness years learned. Waits soft-handed and two wooden basins with the day's laundering in hand. He casts them down, awkward and stilted weights shifting a mound of thinned snow like moon dust, at the mouth's rim of the lake, where pebble and gasps of rippling might combine on less pox-struck days to write the water's peace.

The deed is done. The woman Vanya commands the waters down. And Lan Wangji steps near, after, a stretch of threadbare wool feeble in his unspooled hands, feet dragged to where Five stands. Mouth mute at first, sluggish and slowed by the blasphemy of what he has witnessed. Disrespect for the dead. Indifference. Cruelty.

Despair. Despair, above all.

"Come, be cleansed." Wiped of the corpse's scant blood, purified of indiscretion in this already infected shawl. A welcome, due for their knight in his shining armour.

[somebadnews]

As little energy as the act itself had taken (thorough as he had been), once it's done, Five feels the weight of the day pressing down on him. Frustration and lack of sleep have been building for weeks now, and he'd known he was heading for a crash. Maybe he'd needed the release himself, although he wouldn't admit it to anyone. He has enough prying eyes on him without giving them another reason to watch.

He sniffs and wipes his face at the lake's edge as the lingering drops of water fall like rain. Everything he's wearing is damp, and he feels suddenly exposed to the cold air around them. The blazer that Fox enchanted heats up accordingly, and it's only then that he notices he never let go of the sword. It's still warm when he tosses it to the ground.

A quick look up and he spots his sister where he left her, but in his daze he missed Wangji approaching from his side. For some reason he tenses the moment he sees him. What he says only earns him a deeply confused look, like he's not sure who he's talking to. He takes a step back and takes a quick glance over his shoulder to where the corpse is waiting for them. That's what he came here for, isn't it?

After a moment of hesitance, Five holds a hand out, in case that cloth he's carrying happens to be dry. It might be part of some ritual that isn't meant for him, but he can risk that for the sake of cleaning off whatever managed to splash onto him before Vanya notices.

"You can take it from here." That goes for all of them that seemed so interested in his business. He allowed them. They can do whatever they need to do to find closure, but he doesn't have anything left to say about it.

[weifinder]

Wei Wuxian is quiet and in step, his face difficult to read for the moment before it decides on showcasing his thoughtfulness. A sort of sordid acceptance there, because he has seen profanity beyond this, has lived in the heart of it, but he says nothing of his soulmate's ablutions. They are a kindness even when delivered with a cut and edge, even salted over on open wounds. Well meant and enough, sometimes. Far from it at others.

Here, though... here, he thinks it's enough, when he strikes beyond Five, a nod to him and then a flash of a grim smile over to Vanya, to Mingyu, to whomever might be here. You can take it from here and the clang of the sword tossed down, hissing gently against scattered dewdrops of iced lake, and everything here is so damn cold without the sanctity that makes it pure.

Take your pond, he thinks with exasperated misplaced exhaustion, and cleanse it, until your riddles find the one way that allows for no darkness, no misunderstandings at all.

The corpse will stay, crushed under the weight of water once more, without moving. Let it be Wei Wuxian this time, in his blacks and with his cloak left hanging from an errant branch at the lakeside, to step forth and to descend to the body, the flayed and splintered forms of it. Let it be him who kneels and whispers words swallowed by the water and the cold and the wind, lifting a shattered whole, the death final, and bring himself up in the flecked dampness of water and colder blood. If there is a man to drench himself in blood and bathe it off again and again, his own or anothers, let it be him. Lan Zhan's done enough; Five and Vanya have done enough now, though Five doesn't shy from it, with his anger and his paranoia and the hard truths that Five still cares more than he wants to care.

This is one more negotiation, in a world that mocks cycles familiar back home, that parades around and wills as it wishes.

He brings the body to shore of a lake that was displaying its curse, and he wonders: where did it transfer, now? The new blade, the heat of it... his eyes trail to the blade, and he stands where it falls, arms full of the dead, and it will always weigh heavier than what life felt like held similarly close.

It is not a kindness to ask Vanya to hold water in such a way for the length of what cleansings need meeting. Let him. Let him, and the sword, and the press of his lips, as he's quiet, watching and waiting and hearing echoes of every night here, of darkness that had consumed and shouted and pleaded and cajoled, Wei Ying. A-Xian. Wei Wuxian.

The dead call in the same ways, for the same promises, even here, don't they?

"He means for you, Xiao Five."

[downswing]

"He is no child," he corrects, and takes the knee, a king downed — white of his silks fanned and surrendered to snow, lace peeling like snake's shed skins. Months of turmoiled passage, beneath his station, and the toil of it tells tales, unlearns secrets. No matter: he will dress as servants do, attend Five no better than a starting disciple.

Through cloth's span, Five's hand feels a knot of brittle branches, crack and the joint might yet give. Lan Wangji scrubs, mercilessly: first with linens, then with his cold-reddened hand, with a bearing of snow, then the cloth again, and again, and until the skin gives, the sin breaks, the evil spirit is charcoal smear. (If only it were so simple, so plain.)

Behind them, Wei Ying's worked his catch like a snake rounding, coiled on prey, jaws unhinging. The body drifts, then beaches. Death turns its base truths to indifference. Humours and ligaments and the muscle decayed and strings of flesh like sugar-spun webs, portioned. Pale, before the wax moon rose to shine down upon it. Haunted.

A truth: the man was not Wei Ying's to carry, but clever, dirtied, Yiling hands run greedy and long. Another: the boy Five feels hollowed by the act, his sword neglected, a darkening skidding across snow. The steel yet fresh, Lan Wangji can tell, written in the granular aspersions of the blade, yet to be dulled by oils. He speaks more than his measure, attentive to dress and rub Five's hands in cloth once more, his wrists.

"Honour your sword," this, to the boy, Lan Wangji's ministrations never breaking. "Sheathe or gift it." Wei Ying, certainly, seems... enamoured with it. Not yours to claim, he throws at Wei Ying in one glance and the quiet rise of both brows, before settling down to pass the cloth over slick, red wet on Five's garments.

[somebadnews]

He doesn't know why he stays.

Granting witnesses was a mistake. That much is clear. For someone who has left many spectacular crime scenes, he never enjoyed attention after. He's never needed praise to know he's good at his work, but what he did here was hardly worthy of his name. It had a purpose, and now that it's over, he's ready to move on.

Another time and Five would have left in a blink without even giving those few parting words. Particularly when it involves this man, who has an unhealthy interest in him, who every time they speak borders on crossing a line to what he's willing to tolerate. Immediately he sees through the help they offered, and resentment courses through him when it becomes apparent what they expected in return. And if he'd already suspected that Wei Wuxian was a coconspirator in a plot against him, the man does nothing to remove it by the way he defers to Lan Wangji. He casts him sharp eye when he explains what he meant, as if he's supposed to accept 'cleansing' as part of an agreement he doesn't remember making. They came prepared with the material, which means they fully planned on him being a part of their ritual.

And why? Is there something he doesn't know about the undead that warrants the sudden concern? Would he have done the same if anyone else had been given the same task? -- He could be flippant and ignore them both, but finds that he's surprisingly hesitant to leave without the answers to those questions. They manage to plant a seed of doubt that grows the pit in his stomach. Without a solid understanding of what happened when he mutilated a corpse, he's at a clear disadvantage.

Then Lan Wangji is kneeling down before him, and the uneasiness he felt on the onset nearly reaches into outright hostility when he grabs his hand. He admits that he's not a child, but it's said in the same way it was before. Quietly accusatory. Whatever it is he believes, the boldness of his actions quickly proves that he never intended to give him a choice to refuse what he came here to do. He fixes him with an indignant glare as he scrubs over him, even rougher than he is when he usually cleans the blood from his hands, but he still doesn't move. Doesn't strike or even pull away, though that threat lingers in his vulnerable position, and he pictures the corpse when he looks at him. Singed flesh cut right down the middle, leaving a sack of gore so mangled that it barely seemed human.

At his mention, Five turns his head to glance at the weapon he dropped, still steaming in the cold. He doesn't say anything in response to his request. It served its purpose. He thinks to give it to Vanya, who must be wondering what he's doing with them right now. It'd be good for her to have something she could learn to use without relying on her powers. But that's no business of theirs.

The breaking point comes when Lan Wangji methodically moves on to the blood staining his clothing, and he flinches away.

"What do you think I am?" After his stretch of silence, it comes out of nowhere. Five had asked in so many words before, but never got an answer, and now he's close enough that he can read his expression. He's right here in the open. State it clearly for once.