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WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, XIAO.XINGCHEN. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 018.07.154.55 * XIAO.XINGCHEN has joined 018.07.154.55 <XIAO.XINGCHEN> You have reached Xiao Xingchen. <XIAO.XINGCHEN>** I am often away from my laptop, but I will do my best to answer as soon as I'm able.

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( were xingchen even slightly aware that he has become (or created, but it would certainly feel like 'become') something jiang wanyin must swallow down and deal with elsewhere in privacy, he would be taking steps right here and now to remove the burdensome weight of his struggle from his ally's shoulders. they're nearly to his apartment, are they not? he could make it back from here. he should make it back from here, but alas, his ability to grasp at emotional subtext is quite absent at the moment - so all he manages is to make it up the stairs to his apartment without stumbling, already fishing his key from his pocket before the words are spoken. so in response, jiang wanyin receives only a vaguely affirmative hum as he adjusts the key between his slightly-padded fingertips and slips it (with only mild fumbling, mostly flipping the key right-side-up) into the lock.

and then they're inside, the key set clumsily on the counter by the door, at which point he 'glances' toward the stove (or his approximation of where the stove is) with a reflexive, ) Should I- ( oh, he's forgotten to enunciate around his teeth, trying again: ) Should I put on tea? ( he feels like that's both the thing to do and the thing he shouldn't do, and he isn't entirely sure which to listen to. )

[ Jiang Cheng makes an irritated little noise at the back of his throat, even though none of this irritation is strictly speaking aimed at Xiao Xingchen. At the circumstances, for sure. At the world. Even at the people on the street who had been staring, at the ones in the bar who were scared, disgusted, horrified - even though Jiang Cheng had been horrified, too.

But none of that matters now. What matters is that he handles the situation right here and right now, and give Xingchen the normalcy he is apparently craving. ]

What you should do is clean yourself up and then sit down and rest. [ Another noise, more of a growl now. ] If you insist, I will take care of the tea. You are going to sort yourself out so we can have it like civilized people.

( it's not even normalcy he's craving, truly. it's rebalancing, it's some means by which to remove the weight of his struggle from jiang wanyin's shoulders and bear it once again on his own. whether or not he knows of the horror he has inflicted upon his treasured friend, he still feels a distinct unease at burdening him with this for any longer than necessary. )

I don't insist, ( he says, and if jiang wanyin has released his arm by now then he's making his careful but otherwise fairly smooth way toward the door to the restroom. ) But you're welcome to it, if you would like some. ( that had been the intention - not to drink tea, but to serve it as a proper host would.

and he makes it to the bathroom door without yet having caved to the urge to say 'forgive me', one which grows ever-stronger with each growl, irritated huff, or scolding word jiang wanyin expresses. but what good would it do if he did say it? he would be in this state regardless. the best thing to do is to proceed as he's been told to - to clean himself up, sort himself out.

the bathroom door closes, faucet turning on, and for nearly five minutes the sound of the faucet runs largely uninterrupted. one would likely assume he's slowly and drunkenly washing himself, but the chilly walk was inexplicably sobering and the faucet now serves as a sound to focus his attention on as he meditates, sitting on the floor in some approximation of crosslegged with his back leaning against the tub. this should be fine, if he can clear his mind into some semblance of coherency. into stability, even while part of it races with the lingering icy hum of alarm and fear. where has xue yang gone? could he have followed them here?

was he even there to begin with? xingchen heard the laugh, he was so certain, but nothing else seems to add up. nothing else lends credence to the notion that xue yang has arrived here, a fact that has his face pressing into his palms in frustrated mortification. gods, xue yang was never here at all, was he? and xingchen has embarrassed himself spectacularly. he understands now why it's best not to drink.

but these thoughts aren't helping him sort himself out, so focuses once again on the sound of the faucet, clearing the thoughts from his mind one by one until he can draw and release a long slow breath without tension threatening to stutter it. and then, not ten seconds later, a sharp and increasingly familiar pain seizes him - he's shifting back? monstrous teeth are spit into the wastebin (he's in no proper state to wash and jar them at the moment), claws fall free to allow his fingertips to heal over again, and his feet draw back with a hollow stabbing sort of ache to their proper shape.

that's something, at least.

his outer robe is shed and hung over the towel rack, to be cleaned up later, and he rolls his inner sleeves up to finally wash any blood from his hands, from his face. his hair is released and re-tied, since he's fairly certain he mussed it with a clawed hand at one point. and, based on a preliminary bit of sniffing, his inner robe was spared of the blood of his impromptu shift. small mercies, he supposes.

xingchen is still a bit dizzy when he finally turns off the faucet and steps back to take stock, but it's a sharper sort of dizzy - rather than utter disorientation, the world simply sways a bit in a way that he can account for if careful. he can be careful. and so the bathroom door opens again and xingchen emerges, the matter of his partial undress remedied after a thoughtful pause by the extra couple of steps to collect his cloak from where it hangs just inside his bedroom, drawing that over his shoulders in lieu of an outer robe. it's a bit long, it was intended to reach the ground even at full monstrous height, but it will do.

and thus he returns to jiang wanyin, sinking down into one of the table's chairs. ) Thank you, ( he says after a moment, ) For helping me back here. ( it was either thanking him or apologizing, and xingchen is currently making a concentrated effort not to do the latter until he's certain he's through with all of that which he would apologize for. )

[ While Xiao Xingchen is busy trying to put himself back together in the bathroom, Jiang Cheng makes tea.

It has never been a task he found particularly calming or meditative or even pleasant at all, it is simply a task which is usually done by servants and for lack of them, it needs to be done. No ceremony to it, no deeper thought or meaning. Yet today, he takes his sweet time and forces himself to focus only on the simple little steps of heating the water and measuring the exactly right amount of tea - with such care as he usually never takes, as he ultimately cares little if his tea is a little too strong or too weak as long as it's piping hot to warm him up in this cold, unpleasant Ryslig autumn.

He is still done long before Xingchen returns and as he sits there, there is nothing to do but think and remember.

So maybe his hands are a little tight around the edges of the table, maybe he is a little tenser than is strictly politic.

By the time Xingchen returns, looking so much more like himself and even returned to his human form, he can pour him a cup of tea with a calm, steady hand. ] You owe me no thanks. I was of little help. [ No polite demurring, for he doesn't bother with polite demurring unless he really must. No, he's quite serious about it. There was little he could do, and even less he knew to do. ] But you have returned to your... normal form. You look perfectly human again. [ He wants to ask what happens. Maybe he needs to know what happens. This time, he had remained in control of himself but will he the next time? Yet he can't bring himself to make such a demand, not when he recalls how stricken Xingchen had been. ] Is this going to happen again?

( fortunately for jiang wanyin's tension, that's one more thing he's spared from having xingchen notice in his ongoing recovery state as he sits across from him, listening as the cup of tea is poured. he listens perhaps too sharply, trying to focus in on the clarity of the sound to achieve a bit more clarity in his mind, but such is apparently the effect of drinking spirits: No quantity of meditative practices can truly offer that clarity. Only time.

'but you have returned to your... normal form,' jiang wanyin says. 'you look perfectly human again.' there's a question within the observation, but xingchen isn't confident he can parse it quite so indirectly, so he carefully claims his tea mug between his palms and waits. the patience pays off. the question works itself free on its own, and he hums a quiet hum. ) I'd like to tell you that it won't, but I'm not sure that I can. ( a pause to consider words, to think back (vaguely, distantly) to how it felt at the time. ) It wasn't arbitrary. It was like... something beyond my choice or will called it forth in my defense. ( alternatively, it was like the moment his emotional discipline lapsed, the shift burst in through the crack. but he'd like to assume it's the former. he'd like to assume he isn't constantly a brief slip away from becoming that. )

I understand. [ He does, in fact, not understand, everything about what Xiao Xingchen has become and experiences with his transformations and different forms is so very different from Jiang Cheng's own experience that he has no more a frame of reference than he would as a regular human. Meaning, none at all. But it's not about that right now. Now, it is about providing whatever comfort and companionship he can so. Thus, the claim to understand.

He takes another sip of tea, slow and thoughtful, mostly to buy himself more time.

But no. There is really no beating about the bushes, at least not with his limited patience. ] Why did you feel the need for defense? Was it the alcohol? If it was, you shouldn't drink anymore, at least not in public.

( was it the alcohol? yes and no. everything would have been fine, with just the alcohol. it would be quite a bit simpler just to say that was it, to say that he loses firm grasp on his change when intoxicated, but that would feel very much like a lie.

he exhales a slow bracing breath (barely-audible, but jiang wanyin might catch it) as his 'gaze' drops to his mug of tea. )

I thought at the time that a laugh that I'd heard belonged to Xue Yang. ( as senseless as that may seem, now. ) And I was unarmed and indisposed. ( one of which his body could remedy, however involuntarily it may have been. )

[ His hands tighten on the tea cup. That... is a lot.

In hindsight maybe he should have seen that coming but he hadn't thought of it, hadn't thought very much of what exactly Xiao Xingchen had let slip while he was falling apart in the bar. ]

Do you believe he is here? [ Jiang Cheng had not seen or heard him and the obvious answer is that it had been an overreaction - how often has he believed that every swirling black robe and bright, careless laugh is Wei Wuxian? But they have come too far to simply scoff and dismiss it. They have moved past that. So he regards him solemnly, grim for the matter is grim no matter what the answer may be.

There are no good answers with personal demons, whether they are with you in the flesh or in your own mind. ]

( 'do you believe he is here?' it speaks to the diligence of jiang wanyin's attempt to help, the fact that he asks this with sincerity when even half-drunk it still strikes xingchen as ridiculous. he lifts the mug to his lips with both hands, sipping a bit despite the temperature, then lowers it back to the tabletop. )

I did, at the time. ( he admits. ) But I was mistaken. ( xingchen is quite positive of that, by now. )

[ He did? Jiang Cheng sucks in a sharp breath. He had only met Xue Yang when he was a teenage boy and even then the man had been terrifying, as powerful and dangerous as he was cruel to wipe out an entire sect by himself. Even without any personal history, it is deeply alarming to think someone like him would make it to Ryslig - one of the worst of their world instead of their best, someone who would thrive in this bloody world the Fog God is trying to create.

He taps his fingers against the rim of the teacup. ]

Your response is understandable then. [ Still not a good or convenient thing, and likely to be more trouble than help if they do ever run into Xue Yang or one of his ilk but... It is understandable. ] If I had claws and teeth, I'd want to tear Wen Chao apart with them, too.

( the sharp inhale is quite possibly the most fitting reaction jiang wanyin could've offered to the concept of xue yang arriving here. it would be horrific. far too many people would die, and their deaths would be gruesome, perhaps even sadistic - unless xingchen were to stop him. he could, he thinks. he could keep xue yang in check, even if he managed little else with his time.

it isn't xue yang that he fears, really. it's the man whom xue yang had pretended to be. one whom xingchen had (foolishly, senselessly) trusted enough not to notice as he changed him into that which xingchen had never wanted to be. had never fathomed he could be. xue yang the demonic cultivator, xue yang the murderer - xingchen has no fear of him. and such a thing might be easy enough to recognize on a rational level, but try telling his hindbrain when it's swimming in spirits and wine.

'if i had claws and teeth, i'd want to tear wen chao apart with them, too.' wen chao - he had killed jiang wanyin's parents and sect, if xingchen recalls. that stretch of time is a bit of a miserable blur to him. by his estimate, the massacre of lotus pier took place sometime shortly after he'd made his way down the mountain at zichen's behest, freshly sightless and doing all that he could to reconcile with the world as it suddenly had become. he knows that by the time he thought to listen to any of that which was said about the world, lotus pier was already wen-occupied (he had considered, for the briefest few hours, going there in search of wei wuxian - his nephew, in a sense, and one who would no doubt allow him sanctuary for a couple of days while he decided where else he might go).

here and now, he's prepared to say that wen chao is quite different - he had committed atrocities against jiang wanyin's sect, while xue yang had simply enabled xingchen to commit atrocities all his own - but that's simply their age-old debate in a slightly new flavor, and he's hardly of sharp enough mind to uphold his side of it at the moment. )

Understandable, perhaps, but I made quite a mess of things. You say that you were of little help, yet I wouldn't have made it out of the bar without your assistance, let alone all the way here. ( he's not going to thank him again, he's already done that, but the sentiment is there underlying the words. )

[ He can see that there must be a lot running through Xiao Xingchen's head while he is silent, can only imagine how much all of this must be to process. He waits patiently, nodding when his friend speaks, even trying for a hint of a reassuring smile though that ends up more pained than anything else so he aborts the attempt. ]

You would have made it out of there without me [ he tells him, his voice calm, just a hint of reassuring. ] You are resourceful and strong-willed.

[ He hadn't been needed. Xiao Xingchen has never needed him, he is certain of that. He can save himself quite well. It's just... ] But I'm glad I was there to help. [ He looks down at his hands, at the tea cup he finally remembers to release after clinging to it for so long. ] You would have handled it, though. [ A moment's pause. A breath exhaled. ] And if he had actually been there, you would have done what needed to be done.

[ What needs to be done. What does need to be done when someone dangerous from their world shows up here, when death is no answer and Javert as police of the monsters can't be relied on? A thought for another day. ]

I won't let him kill you again.

( though xingchen can't see the nod, he does catch the faint attempt at a smile (or alternatively, a bracing grimace - they sound quite similar, at times) shaping jiang wanyin's next breath, and the words that follow are entirely more confident in his capabilities than he himself is. perhaps he should be more so - as hopelessly disoriented as he had been, he can't deny that he would have at least escaped the bar in some shape or form. but making it home? no, certainly not. he would have retreated to the nearest alley to hide somewhere relatively quiet and attempt to gather his bearings while he waited to shift back or at least sober up.

'but i'm glad i was there to help.' now xingchen's own lips curve in a quiet smile of his own, the first since their lighthearted antics at the bar, but he can't quite help it. such a statement was far more genuine than jiang wanyin typically finds himself able to offer, however simple it may have been. what follows is more assurance, more confidence in xingchen's capability - but this time, in dealing with xue yang himself. his attention lifts from his tea now as if to look at jiang wanyin, expression slightly more inscrutable. someone prepared to leap to conclusions might read it as doubt of the truth of such a statement, but it isn't. he would have done what needed to be done. instead, he wonders how it could possibly be that even knowing all that he does about what xingchen has done, and even after the disaster that became of their outing, jiang wanyin's faith in him still doesn't seem to waver.

what comes next - 'i won't let him kill you again.' - only drives the point home. and it aches, a strange feeling between his lungs, somehow hollow and light and heavy all at once. )

He didn't. ( the words come out without so much as a flinch or a waver, without even stopping to consider whether such a confession is wise. if wisdom is deceiving jiang wanyin, he has no need of it. ) I did.

You killed yourself? [ This is a course of action Jiang Cheng had never even considered when he listened to the piecemeal explanation he had gotten of the juniors' Yi City adventures. He had simply leaped to the obvious conclusion and left it at that, mostly since at the time it had hardly been relevant. Then, once Xiao Xingchen became a very much relevant part of his life here in Ryslig, he had never thought to second-guess his previous assumptions.

He regards him in silence for some long moments and thinks back to what little he had learned about his fate.

He thinks also of his own feelings here in this place - being at the mercy of a cruel and evil power that will use you to hurt others, with no path of escape. His own assertions that if death were a recourse, it would be one that needs to be taken. ]

Good. [ His voice is firm, not the cold or dismissive kind of firmness with which he brushes people off but simply the satisfaction of finding something confirmed. ] You did what you had to do. You won.

Edited 2020-11-20 16:55 (UTC)

( 'you killed yourself?' xingchen draws a slow breath, bracing, but does not yet respond. the silence is thick, in such a way that xingchen is confident he's being examined, considered in light of this new information. he wouldn't be surprised if jiang wanyin's gaze has fallen to the scarring along his neck - it's still there, xingchen can't see it but if one can feel the raised ridge of it under the tip of their finger then it stands to reason that it's visible too. now the man knows such a wound was self-inflicted.

all that remains is to await his verdict.

what comes is more unexpected than it probably should've been. he was ready to be condemned for his weakness, his cowardice, and he was just as ready to have it brushed aside as 'the past' by this friend who thus far has been quite ready to forgive him any number of sins. but jiang wanyin commends it. claims that he won. xingchen doesn't feel as though he won at all. after all, xue yang hadn't wanted to kill him. that much was apparent, after three long years of whatever that had been. he had wanted to break him down, fracturing him into smaller and smaller pieces until he could no longer recognize any part of himself that was ever better than xue yang in the first place. and in this, xue yang had succeeded.

but he allows the response to go unchallenged. what good is correcting it? it feels deceptive not to, but there's no guarantee it would change jiang wanyin's mind regardless. and so instead, he presses his lips together in something not quite resembling a smile with noncommittal sound of acknowledgment, attention dropping to his tea as he picks it up again and takes another sip.

it gives him the time to figure out what to say - and finally his lips do curl into the slightest dry smile, and he says, ) It's not as if this changes what you've said. I'm fairly certain you won't let me kill myself again, either. ( there's a note of dry humor to it, but it holds true - all of that which jiang wanyin said, about not letting xue yang kill him and that which came before... who actually ended his life feels irrelevant in the grand scheme of it. in the faith and solidarity it's expressing. )

[ Jiang Cheng gives a little noise somewhere between a snort and a scoff, or what would have been that anyway if every noise he makes now isn't an artificial approximation coming from his speakers. The dry humor matching Xingchen's own in his eyes and the quirk of his lips remains unchanged, though these of course are things Xingchen isn't able to appreciate. ]

I wouldn't. I have no doubt it was the right choice - the proper choice - when denying a villain his victory, and the opportunity to use you as his tool. [ Keep using him as his tool, rather, but he's not quite that callous to give an unnecessary reminder of what Xiao Xingchen very well knows. ] But we have already established that this way holds no gain here. Not unless we learn of a way to prevent the loss of memory and self repeated death eventually leads to. [ He taps his fingers on the tabletop. ] Thus. No. I expect more useful contributions from you.

[ And yet he can still appreciate the choice and the decisiveness that had permitted him to go through with it. There is the will to live and then there is preserving your honor and prioritizing the common good - it is good to know that his ally is capable of making the tough choices when it comes down to it. ]

Edited 2020-11-21 14:08 (UTC)

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ic inbox, ryslig.

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