💀Penumbral Lady💀

"I hope you are right," he says: quiet, sincere. "If you have gained so much from knowing her, then I will not cross your bond."

He smiles, faintly.

"And we are still friends, Ninth. As you say -- if I demanded all my friends get along, then I'd have no friends at all. You've done no harm to me."

If his worst fears about Moiraine come to pass, after all, the Ninth will need allies. And even if they don't... she needs allies anyway, with everything she endures on the other side of the door.

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She inclines her head. "With that resolved, I'd like to extend an invitation. To you and to Lan Wangji if he likes."

"I would appreciate your presence when I consecrate these materials," she says, running a finger around the largest tub of bone white that forms the first layer of makeup. "But it is a necromantic ritual. I would not make Lan Wangji uncomfortable or expose you to anything harmful. But... the offer is made."

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His eyebrows rise.

"I would be honored, Ninth," he says, dipping his head into a small bow. "I'll speak to Lan Zhan as soon as I see him next, but I expect he will not mind being there, too. He was glad to accompany me on our night hunt when we found the resentful energy."

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Behind the veil she smiles, and it touches her eyes.

"In that case, I would appreciate help from either of you in locating certain items. If nothing else, I can request them from the Bar, but items with history are to be valued."

She does not need to reference her journal for these: "A helm; two gemstones; a crown of branches; a crown or band of silver; a scroll; a rose; a blindfold. Do you suppose any of those are at hand?"

"I had planned to use the salt water inlet, if you can be prepared to be immersed."

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"Hm."

He thinks this over, idly scratching his nose as he does.

"I did not arrive with much," he says, wry. "And Lan Zhan is -- " How to explain what Lan Zhan has endured, without explaining all of it? "He will not have an easy time finding those at Cloud Recesses, currently. But a blindfold could be made from old cloth, or ribbon, and branches harvested from the forest. I know there is a library here somewhere for the scroll..."

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"I believe there is a smith, as well. They may have helms. The gemstones may be the greatest problem."

"How typical of the Third House," she says wearily.

"Can you explain the circumstances to Lan Wangji? I must observe ritual silence during and before the event. I would like you to recite verses, and if he could accompany musically that would be very well."

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"Of course," he says. "The items you need -- will they be destroyed in the process of the ritual?"

That may affect what Lan Zhan is able to offer, and Wei Wuxian also supposes it wouldn't be the kindest thing to steal a scroll from the Milliways library with no intention of returning it.

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"No," she says. "That is -- they might get some blood on them, I suppose. But they are set dressing, more or less."

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"That will make it easier." He grins, and there is a little more sharpness to it than his usual cheerful smiles. "Blood can be washed. Though I may have to make my apologies to Madam Bar if I return a scroll to her library covered in blood -- I do not want her to serve me weak tea and tasteless broth for a week!"

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That sounds like Harrow's preferred diet, but she only bows her head in acknowledgement. "When do you expect Lan Wangji? There are certain purifications and preparations I must make, before we can start."

"I am grateful for this, Wei Wuxian. I have never gone so long without sacramental paint." She grips the corners of her box, and studies the contents again, frowning at something.

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"He usually arrives by yǒu hour. Early evening, near mealtime," he clarifies. "And -- I am very glad I can help in some way."

Especially since he could not retrieve the already-consecrated box.

His brows furrow, slightly, in an unconscious mirror of the Ninth as she studies the makeup. "Is everything there that you need?"

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"That should be ideal," she says. "And--nothing missing, just some things I am unfamiliar with."

She draws out, from behind the brushes and sponges, a smaller case with a clear plastic top which she sets down on the table. It contains paints of colors never found on any natural skull; deep blood red, heavy ochre, brilliant turquoise, vivid green.

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Huh. That's -- huh.

"I see the bones of some worlds are far more interesting than the bones I have known," remarks Wei Wuxian, dryly amused.

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"Clearly," she says dryly. "Or perhaps the Bar has her own opinions about my palette choices."

She returns the smaller tray to the box. "I should go and prepare. Can you speak with Lan Wangji when he arrives?"

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"Yes."

Wei Wuxian stands, so he can bow properly to the Ninth as a peer.

"And I will fetch what I can for the ceremony. I will see you soon, Ninth."

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* * * * * * * *

As has become usual, it is just after yǒu hour when he steps across the portal from Cold Pond Cave and into the inn.

(Today has been quiet, and his meditations less successful than usual under the conditions of his seclusion. He had discovered himself beginning to plan for the days after he leaves the cave, things he both needs and wants to do, for reasons that until recently were impossible.)

Lan Wangji looks around the common room, trying to see if Wei Ying is here or if he will need to go in search of him, as the other man had asked him to do.

Edited Date: 2020-09-12 12:30 am (UTC)

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He doesn't have to look far --

"Lan Zhan!"

-- but the sight that greets him is rather different than his previous nights at the inn.

Wei Wuxian is at a table near the fireplace, but instead of talismans or a couple bottles of Emperor's Smile, the surface is scattered with a bewildering collection of objects: a long scrap of dark cloth, a small pile of sticks, and a scroll of paper. Half of the sticks have been wrought into a rough circle, large enough to sit atop someone's head. The dark cloth is nearly the same shade as Wei Wuxian's robes.

He waves a hand high overhead to beckon Lan Zhan closer.

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He nods acknowledgement and crosses the room.

"Wei Ying."

Just by looking, he cannot tell what the the assemblage of things on the table is for.

"A new project?"

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"Something like that."

He's as cheerful as ever, but, though he tries, nerves tighten the edge of his smile a bit. "I have something to ask you, Lan Zhan. And tell you. Both? I suppose?"

He can't help but wonder, however fleetingly: what if he was wrong, and Lan Zhan refuses to help the Ninth?

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Wei Ying looks nervous and on edge, now, and he feels a stone settle in the pit of his stomach.

"Wei Ying."

He pulls out the nearest chair and takes a seat beside him.

"Ask."

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He sighs, jittering one foot along the ground.

"The Ninth needs to consecrate the makeup she uses to paint her face," he says. "It requires a necromantic ceremony. She asked for both of us to be present for it."

He searches Lan Zhan's face.

"I told her I would be honored, but if you do not wish to...?"

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He blinks, remembering the skull-like visage that he had seen when first he met Harrow - and then nods, immediately.

"I will come."

He waits, then, to see if there is more. Surely this is not why Wei Ying was unsettled?

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Wei Wuxian blinks in kind. That's... that's all? It was that easy?

It looks like it was that easy. Well!

"Good! Good. I am glad." He laughs a little, in the hope of dispelling the (completely unwarranted, apparently) nerves. "She wished for you to play, and since I am to recite verses it would be very difficult if I had to play and speak at the same time. There were also -- "

He gestures over the table.

"Things, to gather, not all of which I can manage alone."

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He nods again.

"I will play. I told her before she had only to ask."

That settled, he turns his attention to the odd collection of items.

"What else is needed?"

He cannot see any particular reason behind the choices in what has already been collected.

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