we_bring_hell: (Graphic: Spiral)
[personal profile] we_bring_hell
Harrowhark is in the bar, wearing the style of facepaint known as the Vanitas, with no lower teeth and sharp angular edges. It's good to be back in her makeup, even if the consecration was a greater undertaking than anticipated.

Although she is formally painted from the neck up, she is wearing some of the more informal clothes her room had supplied; soft trousers and a hoodie all in black. She is not wearing gloves today, because her palms are wrapped in bandages, but it is the kind of wound she is used to dealing with and it is healing quickly. The pinpricks of pain around her lips are worse, if only because it's been a very long time since she underwent the ritual of the Sewn Tongue.

She is diagramming spirals on paper, working in ink rather than blood right now. She can't spare any blood currently. She has refreshments to share, if you like faintly cucumber-flavored water and very bland, crumbly biscuits.

Date: 2020-09-16 11:47 pm (UTC)
acrookedpath: (rueful)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
Look who's finally awake for the day! Bleary-eyed, disheveled, and toting a novelty mug reading RISE AND SHINE, BITCHES, Wei Wuxian shuffles over from the bar to the Ninth's table, drawing up a smile as he goes.

"Good morning, Ninth," he offers, along with his traditional bow. "...Afternoon? I think it may be afternoon."

How has he slept for an additional four or five hours and still woken up tired? This seems deeply unfair.
Edited Date: 2020-09-16 11:47 pm (UTC)

Date: 2020-09-16 11:50 pm (UTC)
acrookedpath: (slight smile)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
"I am well," he says. "Tired, but well."

He sinks into a free chair and sets down the mug with a thunk.

"And you? I am glad to see you were able to..." He gestures to his own face in an absent circle. "That it worked, in the end."

Date: 2020-09-17 12:00 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (rueful)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
"Good. I am glad. -- But I repeat myself," he goes on with a small laugh, and fiddles with the handle of the mug. "Please forgive me. Madam Bar has given me some very strong tea, and I hope it will finish clearing my mind a little more. It would probably help if I drank it, wouldn't it?"

Suiting action to words, he downs a mouthful.

Date: 2020-09-17 12:18 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
He shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively. "Only tired," he says again. "And I should be the one apologizing, Ninth. I was not able to fulfill my part of the ritual as you asked."

As much as Lan Zhan insisted Wei Wuxian was not to blame, it still pricks at him, as if he cannot stop prodding a bruise on his arm. He should have done better. He should have succeeded in the help he offered.

"I am sorry."

Date: 2020-09-17 12:48 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (tools of the patriarch)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
The exhausted good humor fades to a blank mask.

It is right that she should be curious. She did not expect them to manifest any more than Wei Wuxian himself, and she has no reason whatsoever to recognize them. Of course she would ask for clarity. He should provide it, he thinks distantly, in case she needs his help again. In case they reappear.

"Yes." Quiet enough that one would have to strain to hear. "My shijie -- my sister. Her husband."

Date: 2020-09-17 01:05 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (tools of the patriarch)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
The quick shift toward the technicalities of the ritual grasps Wei Wuxian by the collar, gently steering him away from the yawning pit of his worst thoughts. He nods, unable to meet the Ninth's eye right away, as he gulps down more tea to loosen the knot in his throat.

"What were the other factors?" he asks. "I know Lan Zhan worried that Inquiry may have been one of them."

Date: 2020-09-17 01:11 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (slight smile)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
He exhales, and the barest smile finds its way back to his mouth. "It is more what one does with the spirits that draws the line between ordinary cultivation and necromancy," he says. "Necromancy is... an alliance, I suppose. A closer association. Cultivation holds the spirits at a greater distance, even when one communicates with them."

Date: 2020-09-17 01:20 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (tools of the patriarch)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
"Yes."

He treads a bit more cautiously, now, both hands wrapping around the mug.

"The resentful energy of your Tomb was... enormous. I spent three months lost in a space with resentful energy so thick it could kill within days, and that was but a fraction of what I felt yesterday. I worried if I drew any to myself, I might disrupt the ritual, but apparently I could not fight through it by willpower alone, either."

His mouth twists wryly at the last.

Date: 2020-09-17 02:12 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
He nods.

Hesitant, then: "Lan Zhan... told me a little more of your Tomb. And the spirit inside."

Date: 2020-09-17 02:24 am (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
"If you want to have it at all." He scrapes a thumbnail along the side of the mug. "It is more that -- I wished you to know I know, and that I will keep it as I have kept your other secrets."

He still isn't sure how to approach the haunting, after all. If he does not have a plan, then he is only dredging up cruel memories the Ninth carries.

"But if you do wish to discuss it -- in private, yes." Remembering, then, "Or salt water, Lan Zhan said."

Date: 2020-09-17 12:14 pm (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
He dips his head in a nod. "That is for the best," he says, with a faint, wry smile, "unless I am to fetch a whole new set of robes from Madam Bar."

Mug in hand, he rises to follow the Ninth.

Date: 2020-09-17 01:49 pm (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
Swimming garments that aren't just loose trousers? Interesting! He will have to investigate later.

(Much later, probably, considering the importance of the matters at hand.)

He sinks into the proffered chair and takes another long gulp of his tea. The incense, ink, and blood is -- not exactly soothing, but familiar. It smells like Demon-Subdue Cave. It is a place of study, the beating heart of all knowledge and protection.

"I suppose I should say what Lan Zhan told me, to make sure I have it right," he says, still with care. "That you opened the Tomb when you were young; that your parents, rather than assist in suppressing the spirit inside, killed themselves. And that you are haunted by the spirit even now. Yes?"

Date: 2020-09-17 03:32 pm (UTC)
acrookedpath: (serious)
From: [personal profile] acrookedpath
Wei Wuxian nods, studying her closely over his tea.

"I am glad the suppression held, and she still sleeps," he says. "But her accompanying you, and you seeing and hearing things others don't, makes me think a piece of her escaped. I know our necromancy is not the same. But if you were from my world, we would determine it a haunting and try to help."

A small, humorless twitch of a smile.

"Lan Zhan also told me you do not wish for help, though."

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Harrowhark the Ninth

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