daozhangs | ic inbox, ryslig.

It’s not a disappointment. Once in a while, I succeed.

You’ll tell me when you’d like to attempt to feed? I wonder if it wouldn’t be smarter to make the attempt during the fog.

It would. It should permit us both to heal as needed. And I'm not feeling the hunger yet so it should be easier to.keep from losing control.

Precisely my thoughts.

If my estimate is correct, the fog should linger for four more days.

Tomorrow? That leaves time for healing.

Tomorrow, then. I’ll come to you?

Very well. I will see about practicing beforehand.

( and so when the next day comes, he finds himself on the path to lotus pier (though of course, they worked out a time in their correspondence earlier this morning, so jiang wanyin knows he's coming). 'path' is a bit of a generous term - it's truly just his agile fox form cutting straight through the woods to lotus pier, proper roads be damned - but it's becoming a path at this point, what with how often he's traveling it.

one more thing they established this morning: xingchen is to skip the usual song and dance and just let himself in, make his way to the room (he knows quite well where it is, by now), and change of his own accord without making jiang-xiong waste such time as to meet him at the gate. and so that's what he does, as presumptuous as it may feel, and soon he's knocking lightly at the door of wherever it is that jiang wanyin told him they'd meet. ) My friend?

[ Jiang Cheng had thought long and hard where they should do this but couldn't come to a truly satisfying result since he simply doesn't know what to expect.

Will it turn into a battle when his hunger makes him not want to stop? Will he take so much blood that Xiao Xingchen is going to pass out? Maybe being attacked will trigger Xingchen's own transformation?

There are too many variables he doesn't know so he decides on meeting Xiao Xingchen in his own quarters, where they had had tea for his birthday. They can take the actual feeding to one of the many bedrooms currently empty, now that it is only A-Jie and him here. No harm done if there is a bloody mess and if someone passes out and needs a bed, it will be right there.

But for now, here is Jiang Cheng reading a book - a paperback book he had bought in Bavan, titled An Easy Guide to Fishing, a smaller blurb declaring it lists all the fish to be found in Ryslig's local waters.

His face doesn't light up as it usually does when his friend visits, instead slight unease flickering over it. ] So. It is time then, isn't it?

( though he can't see the interplay of emotions across jiang wanyin's face, it's more than evident enough in his tone for xingchen to notice. he enters regardless, head tilting just slightly as he comes to a stop not far from where his friend sits, to say - ) It doesn't have to be. ( it truly doesn't. jiang wanyin was the one who set the date and time, and he can just as easily postpone if he finds that his nerves won't be soothed.

lips curl to a slight smile (though it doesn't quite have the same reassuring effect, in the form he retains through the fog), evidence that the offer is genuine. that he isn't put out by it. ) I can just as easily sit here at the table and share in another pot of tea, if you'd prefer.

( but he makes no move to sit just yet. while the offer is likely to tempt him, jiang wanyin will almost certainly insist on making the attempt, if only to get it over with. )

[ For once, there is no tea or snacks already waiting for Xiao Xingchen, one of Jiang Cheng's nods to how serious he is about going through with it despite the qualms he is feeling right now - having cut himself off from the path of delaying by offering hospitality.

And indeed, he gets to his feet and shakes his head at Xingchen's offer, even though he is tense, his hands clenched around fistfuls of his outer robes. ] No. If there is going to be tea, I would rather it be afterward.

[ He doesn't think he will be able to stomach anything right now anyway - though his stomach isn't even involved anymore. He can still feel queasy, even if that is quite possibly all psychological.

So yes, he stands, and strides towards the door through which Xingchen had only just entered, determined to take him to the room he has in mind. ] Come along. Let's get this over with before I come to my senses.

( the decline of his offer earns a simple hum, acknowledgment with no further attempts to soothe. jiang wanyin seems quite set in this decision, uneasy or no, and xingchen doesn't plan to do him the disservice of offering a second 'out'. instead he follows along as the man passes by him and out through the door, besides and a half-step behind him for ease of guidance, steps slightly slower than jiang-xiong's due to his lengthened legs. )

I might argue that you've come to your senses already, ( he argues, though it's light and contemplative in case such a thing is less offensive. ) When you agreed to make the attempt. ( it is, after all, the most practical option available to them if their intent is to minimize harm to innocent lives. even if jiang wanyin were to acquire some sort of bagged blood, depending on strangers far from your home to feed you so that you don't lose your mind and end lives is risky at best. )

[ He grunts in acknowledgement - for yes, he agrees that it is the sensible choice, the necessary choice, but he still doesn't have to like it. ]

It's an attempt. If it comes too close to risking your life, we're not trying again. [ And then, since he is almost certain Xiao Xingchen will argue even that - understandably, when it is a matter of his life being possibly in danger versus another person's certainly so, only Jiang Cheng has never actually claimed that he isn't a selfish man. ] Or at the very least not without someone else here to contain me.

[ He's nervous. Antsy, even. Visibly so. But his steps are firm and rapid as he walks to the room he has chosen, one just as nondescript as the other guest rooms except it has now been cleared of most things valuable or ruined by blood splatters. He is a pessimist, after all. ]

I'm still far away from a frenzy but I don't know if I will be able to control myself once I start feeding... or if I will be able to keep from feeding on your energy, too.

( so perhaps jiang wanyin doesn't like the choice they've made - but would he like any choice? would he like to be left at the mercy of medical clinics or wherever else those who drink blood acquire their supply, vying against the other blood-drinkers for that supply? there's no ideal solution. at least this one is assured.

though he disagrees with the assertion that they won't try again, he makes no attempt to argue now. it seems a bridge best crossed if such a thing comes to pass, no need to catastrophize beforehand - especially since he's quite certain that jiang wanyin would not, in fact, endanger his life. not truly. the concession made afterward - another attempt, if someone is here to contain him - is unnecessary, but appreciated. xingchen isn't at all positive who they might think to involve in such a way even if it were to come to that. there's far too much history between jiang wanyin and wen ning, and runyu? well. suffice to say that needing to be stopped from inadvertently murdering xingchen wouldn't be the ideal first impression his friend could make on runyu.

either way, he allows the declarations to stand unquestioned, complicit (for now) within his considering silence. it's a silence which only really draws attention to the sound of each of jiang wanyin's footsteps, the crispness of each movement he makes betraying an anxious tension in him. xingchen weighs the risks and benefits of pulling up beside him to nudge the man's shoulder with his own, but before he has a chance to decide one way or the other, they've arrived at the room jiang-xiong has chosen.

it's far more bare than the others, xingchen realizes as he steps inside. each footstep echoes differently against the walls now that it's uninterrupted by most manner of goods - and the floor is void of any sort of mat or rug, very much unlike the others in which he's changed. but jiang wanyin is speaking again, this time regarding the possibility that he might lose control, and that draws his attention properly back to the man in question. )

Mm, this doesn't sound like trusting in my combat skills. ( they already agreed that (regardless of xingchen's trust in him) he would trust those rather than his own self-control - what need is there to continue to fuss? ) Would you prefer that we stand or be seated?

[ With some effort, Jiang Cheng bites back an acerbic I would prefer not to do it at all since it would be nothing but petty at this point where he has already agreed time and again to go through with the plan.

He looks around a little awkwardly, eyeing the bed. ] It would be better for you to sit on the bed, in case you become dizzy or weak from blood loss. But sitting, it will be harder for you to fight back or escape me.

[ Thus, he positions himself standing close to the foot of the bed but far enough away that they both have room to move. Then, finally, he raises his hands, palms up, fingers slightly curled, and grits his teeth - lets himself focus on the low thrum, this new desire for blood that is always there, even when he isn't actively hungry. Maybe not even a desire so much as an awareness, a new way to see the world and see food where bodies are in a way that is distinctly separate from his hunger for energy.

This is something he has practiced in preparation of the first feeding and so the transition is smooth - smoother even than when he was simply practicing, no deliciously alive, full of blood food source nearby to tempt him. Thin needles pop out of his palm, the skin and the porcelain hand alike. Thicker needles extend from his knuckles but he forces these back again as soon as they start growing. Even with how many there are, the smaller ones strike him as safer, though he winces and points out, ] This is going to hurt.

( though jiang wanyin presents sound enough rationale for both standing and being seated, he fails to actually specify which he would prefer - and so xingchen waits, listening to discern the other man's actions as he moves to the bed and... continues to stand? yes, after a couple of seconds it does seem as though jiang-xiong is still standing, so xingchen moves to follow. he finds what turns out to be the foot of the bed with light fingertips, but he doesn't sit. it's here if he does need to do so, but for now, he stands facing jiang wanyin one clawed hand rolling up his opposite sleeve until it's securely out of the way without need for him to hold it there.

'this is going to hurt.' ) Of course, ( he says, as if such a thing is both expected and utterly inconsequential. his arm is offered out now, palm-up. ) Is an arm sufficient? ( it seems simplest, of the primary channels of blood - the thigh and the throat are significantly less ideal. )

[ Even after all their months of friendship, Jiang Cheng still forgets at times that Xiao Xingchen can't see, such as when he neglected to tell him that he intended to keep standing.

But now they have moved past that hurdle and he slumps in relief, nodding, then belatedly remembering to give verbal assent. ] That will be better, yes. [ Safer, certainly, and also less likely to be uncomfortably intimate than a hand on his throat.

He cycles an unnecessary breath and reaches out for Xingchen's arm. Withdraws the needles as he does so to place a smooth porcelain hand along the length of his forearm, feels the blood pulse beneath his palm with senses he doesn't even understand... and then lets go. The needles spring forth and by instinct, his hand clenches tight to hold on to the arm offered to him. Instinct does what he doesn't understand, needles jutting out in all the right places and at the right length to find blood vessels. ]

( first, it seems, comes a hand - and he expects it to be a guiding one, placing xingchen where it's most helpful for him to be, but for the fact that it lies against his arm instead of grasps... that is, until it does. the grip is sudden and tight, and with it comes a sharp sting which has his brow flickering in a flinch stemming more from surprise than pain.

and then, after a moment, he laughs a quiet crisp laugh.

his free hand lifts to press bent knuckles to his lips in wordless remorse, then he's quick to explain - ) Forgive me, it's just- I was terribly certain you'd have to bite me. ( that's the only form of blood consumption that he was previously aware of - but oh, this is quite a bit simpler.

as for the actual drawing of blood underway, he isn't entirely certain how to ascertain how well it's going. how quickly or slowly jiang wanyin is taking it, or how much is being taken. he would assume his friend is doing all that can be done to take care with it, but beyond that, he'll have to wait a bit longer to see. )

[ The energy feeding... Well, he had had an easy start with that, in a way, between having fed first in a frenzy and then while he was someone who actually relished it, so by the time he used it as a weapon at the circus it had come almost easily to him, at least on the physical level. It hadn't felt strange anymore.

This, though... It is the very first time he has fed on blood, with a body which doesn't even feel hunger or thirst anymore, drinking blood in a way which a mind still thinking like a human's can barely comprehend as the act of any sort of drinking...

And yet, as soon as the first drops of blood reach his systems, he feels overcome by a strange hunger, a need, some diffuse want for more - not from true starvation but simply that hunger of someone who has stumbled across something delicious and wants more, regardless whether he actually physically needs to eat.

Jiang Cheng wants to eat. ]

I... [ His voice cracks, trailing off in high-pitched mechanical noises and his other hand twitches, curls and uncurls at his side, reaches for Xiao Xingchen's throat but draws back before he can touch though certainly close enough that he will be able to sense the movement. He balls it into a tight fist against the needles wanting to pop out but that only places his knuckles perfectly for the knuckle needles to release and he wants... ]

It feels good. [ It does. It's not the sharp relief of eating when starved but it feels good, he... ] I feel alive.

( it becomes clear quite quickly that his friend hasn't heard a word that xingchen has said, which sobers the moment up rather quickly, unexpected mirth fading to an attentive silence. it's just in time for what was likely a valiant attempt at words by jiang wanyin to fracture into inhuman sounds, the likes of which xingchen has only heard (and in much different and more drastic form) when the man screeched in misery during their time in captivity.

a movement is made then, one which he can't quite identify at first and (stupidly, naively) trusts jiang-xiong too much regardless to properly brace himself for - and sure enough, the hand stops short before it finds its target (his throat, as it turns out). perhaps to someone else, such a thing might be concerning. to xingchen, it confirms that which he already knew: that jiang wanyin won't allow himself to harm him.

'it feels good. i feel alive.' ) I'm glad, ( he says, the corners of his lips twitching in threat to smile again despite the situation. but all seems to be going well enough so far, doesn't it? his arm below jiang-xiong's grip feels distinctly colder and slightly more numb, but that's to be expected since much of the blood is being intercepted before it reaches his fingertips. it should be fine once they're through. )

You shouldn't be [ he barks, his voice curt and on the verge of being snappish with frustration and alarm - mostly at the very fact that Xiao Xingchen isn't alarmed at all. He must have sensed the hand going for his throat, he is trained as a cultivator even if he can't cultivate right now. He must know. He simply... Jiang Cheng digs his nails into the soft flesh of his palm of the human-soft hand. ] You shouldn't be glad about any of that.

[ Nobody should be happy to be drained of blood, no matter what it does to the one doing the draining. No matter that it makes him feel thrum with energy and life and has him feeling so alert, so... So much closer to being himself, only in a way which isn't him at all. This giddy rush, this almost-drunken, euphoric feeling, that is nothing like what being Jiang Cheng feels like. ~~But it is very much like what it had felt when he sank his feeding cables into the men at the circus, only then the rush had been all the cruel glee of vengeance, and he hadn't thought to question it.~~

But no he is feeling this, he is feeling good... and he wants more. He needs more. Craves more. His left hand shakes. ]

( but xingchen, for his part, is unfazed by the barked words. ) I shouldn't be glad that you feel alive? ( spoken with a note of something between challenge and skepticism - because even if jiang wanyin feeling alive without needing to kill for it for the first time since felfri wasn't fundamentally something to be glad for, how little must he know xingchen not to assume that he would be glad for it regardless? honestly.

but jiang wanyin isn't given too much time to answer - some two or three seconds later, the next breath xingchen draws brings with it a heady sort of lightness, and he knows quite well what that means. his free hand lifts now to wrap, unhurried but firm, around the wrist of the hand drawing blood from his arm. ) That's enough for now.

Edited 2020-12-18 14:09 (UTC)

[ He isn't surprised when the hand settles on his wrist, he isn't surprised at all - and yet he still gives a little jerk, startled with the realization that this is something he should have been thinking of. ] I hadn't... I wasn't... [ He hadn't been thinking at all of stopping. Stopping hadn't been part of his thinking anymore. And even now, with Xingchen's hand on his and his enough he finds himself not wanting to stop.

He is so alive right now. This feels good. He doesn't want to stop, doesn't want this feeling to stop, and really, why should he?

He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth. ] I know. I know.

[ How do you stop this? He tries to somehow.. shut it off, tries to find the willpower to even want to. But there is hot, fresh blood pumping through his systems and he needs, he craves... He needs to want to stop. His other hand reaches out again, feeding cables extending from his fingertips before he even knows what's happening and he quickly balls that hand back into a fist.

With a staticky yell, he yanks his hand back, the needles still extended, just tears it away and takes a stumbling step back, blood-dripping hand now cradled against his own chest. ]

( the hand and request alike do seem to get jiang wanyin's attention rather quickly, but the man almost doesn't seem to know quite what to do with that. with the sudden concept of stopping, of releasing xingchen's arm from his hungry grip, even as he acknowledges that he does indeed know that it's time.

but xingchen is nothing if not patient, and he gives jiang wanyin one, two, three seconds before his mouth opens to insist a bit more firmly - which is precisely when the hand all but tears away from his arm, a sharp and vivid sting blooming along the inside of his forearm, a trickle of blood dripping down the length of his arm and hand (still held out a bit, no need to bleed on himself).

except he doesn't quite notice the blood. he's not sure whether jiang-xiong drew more quickly after he declared it enough or if xingchen himself had simply waited too long to do so, but even as he stands here he feels not unlike the air at the summit of a mountain - less tangible, not entirely present in the way that he should be. were his sense of place more concrete, he would recall that they've positioned themselves at bedside in case of this very thing, but it isn't and he doesn't. )

You did well. ( a fact that he sounds quite pleased by, but his voice isn't quite right in a way that he can't put his finger on. ) Didn't I tell you that you wouldn't harm me?

I... [ Jiang Cheng is still holding his hand cradled against his chest, his left hand now firmly around the right's wrist as if he doesn't trust himself to lash out again - he does, in fact, not trust himself not to lash out again. The euphoria is passing already, replaced by raw need and his eyes are transfixed on the blood running down Xiao Xingchen's arm. What a waste, he should...

He shakes his head and takes another step away from him, towards the door, and turns his back on him. The smell of blood still hangs heavy in the air, all his senses are attuned to it now.

Belatedly, he realizes that Xingchen had sounded funny, not quite right, not quite... ] You should sit down. I would help but...

( what's happening around him - specifically, what jiang wanyin is doing and where he's going - should be quite a bit more clear to him than it is. he realizes that much, and the thought gives him enough pause that he (ironically) nearly misses the suggestion to sit. ) There's no need, ( he says, but a moment later realizes to clarify - ) To assist, that is. I'm alright. ( because he has remembered the bed now, taking a slightly unsteady step in the direction he recalls it being - and sure enough, there it is.

xingchen sinks gratefully down to sit, arm still held out a bit before it occurs to him that the blood is probably the issue. ) Ah - forgive me, ( he'll be drawing his innermost sleeve from amongst the sleeves billowing around his free hand, pressing that against the spot to clean it up a bit. )

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