Harrowhark the Ninth (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
we_bring_hell) wrote2020-10-12 08:54 am
we_bring_hell) wrote2020-10-12 08:54 am
Entry tags:
Night Comes To Tallahassee
The Bar does her best to mother the underage patrons of the Bar, nudging them gently towards self-care and withholding harmful things, but she is not omniscient. She couldn't have known not to give Harrowhark Nonagesimus pushpins and index cards and colorful string.
Harrow has secured a small sideroom in the library, the equivalent of a grad student cubicle, and something awful is taking shape there; the crazy conspiracist murder board equivalent of the bone construct lurking in the depths of Canaan House. There is color-coding. There are crossreferences. There are Tarot cards mixed in. There's a map of Canaan House. There are accidental yarn pentagrams that have somehow not yet summoned the soul of Pepe Silvia.
Harrowhark is dressed way down, and yet somehow at her most feral and goblin-like, sockfooted and gloveless in soft pants and black hoodie, as she shifts the cards around and examines new configurations. Ever so often she refers to her journal. She is humming something under her breath.
Harrow has secured a small sideroom in the library, the equivalent of a grad student cubicle, and something awful is taking shape there; the crazy conspiracist murder board equivalent of the bone construct lurking in the depths of Canaan House. There is color-coding. There are crossreferences. There are Tarot cards mixed in. There's a map of Canaan House. There are accidental yarn pentagrams that have somehow not yet summoned the soul of Pepe Silvia.
Harrowhark is dressed way down, and yet somehow at her most feral and goblin-like, sockfooted and gloveless in soft pants and black hoodie, as she shifts the cards around and examines new configurations. Ever so often she refers to her journal. She is humming something under her breath.
no subject
Madness, this is madness. God's victory and death does not love her; no one loves Harrowhark Nonagesimus, although the anchorites of Drearburh love the Reverend Daughter. She's going mad.
"Lan Wangji," she gulps. "She is here."
no subject
He is very, very grateful that he has had a few hours to rest, because he will need every bit of it now.
Lan Wangji summons his guqin, placing it on top of the small desk and taking position in front of it. He strikes the first notes of Inquiry, swift and clear, putting as much spiritual energy into it as he has to give.
The notes sound in the ancient musical language, filling the room with melody that carries a question.
You are welcome here. Will you speak with us?
no subject
And the strings play a strumming quiet beginning.
no subject
"She is willing to communicate. Tell me what you want to ask, and I will play the question for her in the ancient language, then pause for her to respond."
no subject
From the housetops to the gutters
From the ocean to the shore
The warning signs have all been bright and garish
Far too great in number to ignore
From the cities to the swamplands
From the highways to the hills
Our love has never had a leg to stand on
From the aspirins to the cross-tops to the Elavils
But I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me
no subject
The melody that returns is again not one he knows, and the lyrics are not relayed in the ancient language -- but the feeling comes through clearly, the meaning flowing through the music and into his mind.
"She says that you may be unlovable monsters," Lan Wangji repeats, "but you are not alone, and that she will love you if you love her."
no subject
"Why were you killed? Why were you imprisoned?"
The strings dance, fast and spritely, but in a minor key
Many a year ago
In a kingdom by the sea
There lived a maiden you may know
By the name of Annabelle Lee
No other thought did trouble her mind
But to love and be loved by me
We were children both
In this kingdom by the sea
But we loved with a love that was more than love
I and my Annabelle Lee
With a love that the winged angels high
Coveted her and me
no subject
"Long ago - there were two, two who loved each other very deeply, and with great strength that others envied. She was one. Somewhere near the ocean, I think."
A deep chill is gathering within him. He ignores it, and lets the flow of spiritual energy increase.
no subject
In this kingdom by the sea
A wind blew from a stormy cloud
That took my Annabelle Lee
Then her wicked brothers came
To steal her away from me
Without waiting for Lan Wangji to translate the second part, she presses on. "What will happen if you wake?"
Her feeling--or hallucination--of the Body's presence is completely gone now. All there is, is the music of the guqin. And this answer she recognizes, by the chords alone:
Oh I'm gonna bribe the officials
And I'm gonna kill all the judges
It's gonna take you people years to recover from the damage
And then the presence is gone.
no subject
Harrow asks her next question, which he faithfully relays, and the force of the response nearly knocks him backward.
"--and she is angry," he manages, before the spirit vanishes.
As she does, the last of his strength gives out and he collapses into the empty chair, spitting up a mouthful of blood.
no subject
no subject
"I have only overexerted. Usually it would not be a concern."
Usually he has not spent the last three days burning his own spiritual energy through his golden core to stay awake and well, of course.
"Forgive me. I did not mean to alarm you."
no subject
no subject
"She was here. The chance for you to ask her what you wished was at hand. I could not stand by and let it pass."
He shakes his head.
"I will go to the lake, instead."
Not only had he already planned to test himself with the sword, he now has no intention of returning to the room too early, marked with blood, and alarming Wei Ying.
no subject
Quickly, before it can set into the fibers, Harrow skeletonizes the blood, leaving a rusty powder on the front of the robe. "I have tried not to damage the fabric, but it takes a great deal of precision."
no subject
He lays a hand on his guqin, returning it to its hidden storage, and is beyond grateful that the small exertion does not cause him any further trouble. He is recovering already, it would seem.
"Did you learn what you needed to know? I would be glad to try again, in the future."
A beat of silence, and then, anticipating --
"As long as I am not doing so immediately after a few days such as these last three, it will present no difficulty."
no subject
"I am greatly in your debt."
no subject
"You are not. It is my honor to help."
no subject
"But Harrowhark Nonagesimus would be a friend to Lan Wangji."
no subject
"And Lan Wangji would also be a friend to Harrowhark Nonagesimus. Is."
no subject
What if I hugged him?
She does not.
"Be well. And please do not tell Wei Wuxian you overexerted yourself for me."
no subject
"Rest assured that I will attempt to avoid that."
He gets to his feet, and even manages to do so without needing to brace himself on the table.
"Be well, yourself, Harrow."
Lan Wangji nods a farewell to her, and leaves the room to go back in search of music, elsewhere in the library.