#w. zhilan

[archaictold]

.

[eternalrecurrxnce]

“It isn’t much, but you’re free to use the lab as you wish-- all of the books and tools available are at your disposal, as well.”

Introducing someone new to the university was something that felt like second nature to Richter, now-- guiding the young man who had wandered through the doors just earlier that morning into a room adjacent from the research lab he shared with Aster. Though the main part of it was filled with their studies, notes and diagrams written on the white boards all around them, there was always room for new inquiring minds, from Aster’s point of view especially.

It would bring disappointment to his friend if Richter did not at least try to help a new face, especially one who still seemed to be collecting his barings.

“It doesn’t need to be a space you use permanently, but until you find something else, it’s yours,” his eyes scanned over the room, over the notebooks on the table, the bookshelves lined top to bottom with encyclopedias.. it was something he saw almost every day, yet Richter couldn’t ignore the spark of familiarity all of it gave him suddenly. “At the very least, this school is capable of building spacious rooms for its students-- the lab I was held in was nothing more than a shoebox, and even calling it that is a kindness.”

...

What? 

The colour drained from Richter’s face almost instantly, pointedly turning his head away from Zhilan as a look of horror struck his features. Where.. did that come from? What was wrong with him? Again, he was freely speaking of things that only two people on this island knew about-- but.. why? 

“.. please disregard that. I’m.. not sure what came over me,” clearing his throat, Richter pushed a few strands of hair out of his face, hoping the man wouldn’t question him on what he’d just implied. “In any case, the point still stands: you have the freedom to do what you wish here. If there’s anything else you need, I’ll retrieve it for you.” 

                                                                      –   ☼☽;   ( @archaictold​​ )      

[nicawlette]

PLATONIC & ROMANTIC TOUCHES! PART ONE

@archaictold asked: [ MOVE ] for the sender to reposition the receiver when they’re too drunk/tired/injured to do it alone!

Though she's loathe to admit it, the words on the pages had begun to blur and bleed away about two chapters ago, yet sheer stubbornness is what keeps slim, scarred fingers turning from one to the next. None of the information sticks— Nicolette can't remember if the male protagonist has just stepped into the light and started glowing like a disco ball or if that plot point is entirely imagined.

A groan slips out before she can stop it, the pounding in her head becoming a tad too noticeable the harder she tries to focus her swimming vision. The expression on her face is one of pure concentration, though it probably looks ridiculous paired with the deep flush of her fair cheeks. Nicolette wonders if her late night companion has noticed her struggle or not— prays he's too absorbed in his own research as usual to catch the fact that the book is upside-down.

The library certainly hadn't been her intended destination, but she'd left the bar more than a little tipsy and simply wandered around till she was too tired and bored to keep going. In the heat of the moment, bothering the little scholar who seemed to frequent the location just made sense. But then she had miscalculated and gotten too swept away by this novel about a supernatural being and his torrid, yet toxic romance with a human girl! It was a work of art to her intoxicated mind. It was also no longer legible.

❝ Ugh... ❞ Another noise of discomfort and confusion is made as Nicolette rubs at her drooping, two-tone eyes. She blinks—or actually it turns out she's closed her eyes entirely because the next time they open, she very nearly faceplants into the open book. A gentle hand upon her shoulder stops the slow decent forward, and Zhilan's soft voice says something she doesn't catch. She doesn't really need to hear it to know it's probably overly kind and concerned.

He helps her sit back up as a pout settles on her lips and she grumbles a complaint, words whiny and slurred. ❝ 'm not finished... 's getting good, Lanlan... ❞ However, her body doesn't seem keen on putting up a fight, pitching to the left and depositing her weight against the scholar's shoulder, quite ready to sleep off her inebriation.

[nobully]

w-wash/bandage?

nonverbal starters | wash wipe something off their forehead, cheek, so on; bandage patch them up when they get hurt.

"I said I'm fine."

"Uh-huh, try telling that to Zhilan when he sees your face."

That gives Break pause, enough that he almost touches himself before thinking better of it. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Maybe worry about your legs first—they're shaking pretty bad."

"You—!" Break lifts his cane to retaliate, but that turns out to be a bad idea when his knees give out beneath him. Luckily, Wang Yi's been expecting this from the start and catches him before he falls, swooping the irate man into his arms and up the steps to Townhouse 202 before the guy can protest.

"Hey so—ow, stop whacking me?" Wang Yi complains when he gets smacked multiple times with the tip of that cane. "Get your key and let us in."

"Put me down."

"You think I want to princess-carry you in public? Hurry up, I see someone coming down the street." With a grimace, Wang Yi shifts his weight in his arms. "Or else I'll actually drop you next."

It's uncertain whether he's fibbing, but Break does hear footsteps and decides the humiliation he knows is better than the embarrassment he doesn't. Keys are produced with alacrity before Wang Yi takes them (from cold, cold fingers), unlocks the door, and lets them both in.

Once inside, Wang Yi endures more thwacks to his head and shoulders as he calmly carries Break through the foyer and up the stairs to his bedroom. He sets him on the bed and backs off before the guy can jab him in the stomach next.

"You can drop the cane now, we're in your room."

"I can tell that myself, you fool."

"Yeah? You wanna keep playing know-it-all with grime on your face?" Wang Yi's voice fades slightly as he steps away, and Break almost believes he's going to leave. But of course he doesn't. Instead he hears the sound of a faucet running—is Wang Yi washing his hands?—before the guy comes back a few minutes later to pick up where his taunts had left off. "Makes you look like a self-entitled three-year-old, you know that?"

He closes in and Break gets defensive again, stabbing out but missing him this time. "What grime—"

"Right here," a voice mutters far too close as a warm cloth wipes at his cheek—and Break realizes now, the water running was for him. He tries to jerk away, but Wang Yi's somehow got him by the shoulder and his cane—where is his cane, he had it a second ago—

"Your cane is on the floor, leaning by the bed," Wang Yi says next as he moves to clean a different spot. "I've already got one bruise to explain away, I'd appreciate not getting any more—"

Break kicks him in the shin.

"Dammit, Xerxes—" Wang Yi staggers forwards, just close enough to grab Break's arm and squeeze.

Xerxes Break pales with a muttered oath.

—

"You're such a brat, you know that?"

"You keep accusing me of being a freak, but did you forget types like yours are the kind I like to pick on most?"

Hands work quickly to wrap bandages around Break's injured arm, the sleeve pushed up and out of the way. The limb's owner has settled for lying dramatically on the bed, hand flung over his eyes as he grimaces through it all.

"So you're saying you're getting a kick out of this?" Break mutters back just as Wang Yi pulls hard enough to make him hiss. "By the abyss, your bedside manner is atrocious."

"If I was any nicer to you, you'd just make it a point to use it against me," Wang Yi retorts before finishing things up. "What were you doing fighting a bunch of teenagers over candy anyways?"

The body beneath him stills as Break holds his breath. The next second a colder voice issues from its body. "You were watching?"

"Who else do you think called the cops?" Wang Yi mutters. "You don't have to settle your grudges in private all the time, you know."

"I don't recall asking you how to live my life."

"You live yours, I live mine. I didn't interfere in the actual fight, did I? Look how well that turned out for you." He gives the arm in his hands a small shake. "You're lucky they didn't slash an artery."

"Are you lecturing me right now?"

"Nah, I'll let Zhilan handle that," Wang Yi replies, then adds before Break can protest, "and if you don't want to give him a heart attack, you'll let me fix you up so you look less awful when you see him."

"Is this why you followed me home?" Break shifts enough to turn his head in the direction of Wang Yi's voice. "I noticed you around the first block, you know. Thought I'd wait to find out what you were up to, until you came and met me in front of my house."

"Yeah well, you were starting to look pretty strained by the end so I figured I'd better catch up."

"If you hadn't stalked me in the first place, I wouldn't have wasted so much energy on keeping up appearances?"

"If you hadn't gotten hurt in a stupid spat with some brats, would I have needed to tail you at all?"

"They weren't brats, they were hooligans. Trying to steal from a defenseless blind man—"

"Not so defenseless when you brained the leader on the head, were you?"

"Exactly. Which proves my point—I didn't need your help. I was handling them just fine. Now you've gone and shoved your way in, as you always do, when nobody's ever asked—"

"Too bad, what you need and what I want are two different things. Eat up," Wang Yi adds, and stuffs a lollipop between Break's lips the next time he opens his mouth.

He doesn't exactly spit it out, but grabs the stick with his other hand to give Wang Yi a scowl. "This isn't strawberry."

"Yeah well, you weren't exactly on your best behavior." Wang Yi pats the bandaged arm. "I'm done, by the way."

Already? Break tries flexing his arm and realizes Wang Yi's telling the truth. The bandaging job...also isn't half bad.

"Feels all right?" Wang Yi prods. "I'm going by how I do Nicolette's, but you're not as muscular as she is so—hey!" He catches the foot aimed at his chin by the ankle. "Don't make me take your candy away."

"Stop treating me like a child."

A snort. "Like hell you're that cute." You're more like a ornery old man...

Break opens his mouth to spew more abuse when both of them hear the key turn in the door downstairs. The next moment a woman's giggle floats into the house, followed by a male's soft tones as he says something in response.

"It's Zhilan." "Nicolette?" Both of them blurt out at the same time.

"Shit." Wang Yi drops Break's leg and grabs the discarded face towel on the side. "I still have to finish cleaning your face."

"Give me that," Break snatches it from his hands. "I need a new shirt—the blood on the sleeve—"

"Right, do I just grab one from the closet?"

"Yes, hurry up!"

By the time Zhilan and Nicolette set down their shared shopping bags and make their way up to the second floor, Wang Yi is casually closing the door of Break's bedroom and turning to face them both.

"Hey," he waves. "The guy inside's changing, so he kicked me out."

"Oh, Wang Yi!" Zhilan brightened in pleasant surprise. "I didn't know you were dropping by."

"Yeah well, I ran into Xerxes on his walk and we decided to come back together," Wang Yi shrugs before looking over to give the dubious Nicolette a less-than-obvious look. She arches a brow at him, but gets the hint and keeps silent. "He should be done soon, though."

"Why is he changing?" Zhilan wondered.

"His clothes got dusty," Wang Yi cleared his throat.

"Oh, then I wonder if he needs help with the laundry—"

"Nah, there's not enough to make a load yet," Wang Yi butts in. He'd help Break throw his bloody top into the hamper and ran out as fast as he could. "Where'd you guys come from?"

"Grocery shopping," Nicolette pipes in next. "Oh, Lanlan was just saying how nice it'd be to make dinner for his boyfriend, so we brought all the ingredients here. He keeps saying how he needs to eat more!"

"But I was just telling her that you can cook too," Zhilan added shyly with a blush, "although I don't think Xerxes can take spicy foods..."

"I don't think he'll like anything I make, to be honest," Wang Yi says wryly.

"Then you can make something for Nicolette!" Zhilan encourages. "Since we're all here, I was thinking—why don't we have dinner together?"

"Oh, uh..." Wang Yi hesitates, and Zhilan's smile starts to flicker.

"That is, if you're not busy..."

"No, no of course I'm not!" Wang Yi amends hastily, "I'm just—I was surprised, that's all. Thanks for having me?"

Zhilan brightens all over again. "That's good. They say it's easier to eat with a group, so I was thinking...that might encourage Xerxes as well..."

—

One hour later, Xerxes Break and Wang Yi are sitting side-by-side at the same dinner table next to their collective boyfriend/girlfriend and trading barbed whispers between the conversations.

"I'll have you know," Break mutters first, "that I expect you to stay back and help wash the dishes."

"Then you better clean your plate," Wang Yi mutters back, "or else you'll be wasting all of Zhilan's hard work cooking."

"You think I want to waste it? I can't physically keep things down."

Wang Yi glances at Break's plate, then back at him. "How much have you eaten so far?"

"I've tried some of everything he made, if that's of any concern to you."

Zhilan calls Xerxes next, so they break apart while he deals with that and Wang Yi feeds Nicolette some of his steamed fish.

"What are you two whispering about?" she murmurs at him between bites.

"He's trying to figure out how to make his boyfriend happy."

"Oh? And he's asking you for tips?"

"Well if you think about it, I'm experienced with both sexes..."

Nicolette smacks him lightly on the cheek. "What did I tell you about bringing up Eiden in our conversations?"

"I didn't even mention him by name?"

"You think I need his name to recognize that whor—" And her lips are sealed when Wang Yi feeds her another bite of fish.

"If you like this, I'll make it for you next time?"

"Mmm...fine," she huffs. "Okay, they're done talking, should I grab Zhilan now?"

"Please."

She gives him a "You owe me" look before tugging on Zhilan's sleeve. "Lanlan! What was that vegetable you were telling me about?"

"Oh! The Jueyun chilis?"

"Yes, that one!"

"Well, you see..."

Wang Yi turns back and nudges Break with his elbow. "Why don't you just tell him you can't finish everything?"

"And disappoint him some more?"

"You could blame it on your arm."

"Since when does an injured arm hurt one's appetite?" Break hissed.

"If you're a brat, then anything's possible."

He gets a scowl in return. "I've already brought up the bandages once before dinner, I don't need to do it again."

"Ok, then how the hell am I supposed to help you?"

"Eat it for me."

"What?"

"What 'what.' You've got a working stomach, it'll be nothing to you."

Wang Yi pauses to squint at Break's plate. "Ok, I can probably manage it but you need to distract Zhilan while I do."

"And Nicolette?"

"She's already got me covered," he says and adds, somewhat smugly, "she always does."

"Tch."

"What tch, you're lucky I didn't tell her how I got the bruise in the middle of my forehead?"

"Oh good, I was hoping that one would stick."

"Aren't you supposed to be more humble towards someone helping you out?"

"Again, I never asked for your help?" Break huffs. "You're offering."

"Yeah, me and my bleeding heart..." Wang Yi grumbles. "Right, whatever. Get moving, we don't have all night."

Break gives him a slow lingering look (or the equivalent of one, if he could see) and slowly but surely rises to his feet. Zhilan's the first to notice, of course, and stops expounding on the history of Liyuen cuisine to glance back.

"Xerxes?"

Break makes a beeline for his voice and rests his hand on Zhilan's shoulders. "Zhilan. I forgot to thank you for dinner."

And then he leans down to kiss him.

There's a clatter—Nicolette's dropped her fork. The next second she's suppressing a squeal and digging in her pockets for her phone to film the moment. Wang Yi stares at them before he remembers he's supposed to clearing Break's plate and starts shoveling food into his mouth. Zhilan makes a little noise like a squeak, but even that flutters away as Break deepens the kiss between them.

Afterwards, Wang Yi figures he did all that for nothing, because poor Zhilan's too flustered to even think straight afterwards and flees out of the dining room with Break calmly trailing after him.

Nicolette puts down her phone and gives him a grin. "Whatever you told him, it worked."

"Huh? Ohhhh...right, yeah." Wang Yi grabs a napkin and wipes his mouth. "Anyways, you still hungry?"

Nicolette narrows her eyes as she licks her lips. "It depends on what's for dinner."

"Wait, what—oi, Nicole—mmph!?"

(And so, the first group dinner was a resounding success.)

[schleckermaul]

babes. with event part two rolling around, i'm making a quick list about break's interactions, just so i have it on the blog.

first things first: finding wang yi's memory about ... the entirety of his relationship with nicolette. he will hoard these for a bit, before being confronted by ismael.

briefly in possession of zhilan's memory about their first kiss, something he quite definitely doesn't want to return. what's broken should stay broken, and all.

zhilan eventually coming to talk to him about it, when the memory is returned to him.

memories of gilbert's! these, he's not gonna hoard, though they'll very much do things to his brain, if mostly positive. besties bonding the way they usually do (sharing trauma).

i think that's mostly what i had in mind until now! however, if you'd like break to find some of your memories as well, i'll put out a call for him in a bit. he hasn't forgotten anything himself, so he's just. catching shit. and trying to deal w/ it.

[dotthings]

Was happy to see the A18-49 demo went back up a bit on Kung Fu this week, probably due to all the markets knocked out by the Verizon-Nexstar mess being restored.

Been a while since I've talked about Kung Fu so I decided to take some notes on this week's ep. I used to tweet about Kung Fu a lot but since I'm not on twitter any more, I might start doing more episode reaction blogging here.

Season 3, episode 5 "The Harvest"

Pei-Ling and Xiao -- it's a common trope in heroic narratives like Kung Fu that the hero loses her mentor. It's not all that often she gets her mentor back. I'm really enjoying this arc about the resurrection of Pei-Ling, Nicky's mentor, and Pei-Ling's internal fight being possessed by Xaio.

There's quite a lot of symbolism about women being trapped in this ep. Xiao was locked in a mystically sealed cage and starved to death. Henry and Nicky research a way to free Pei-Ling that involves a candle from the Salem witch trials era, to expel Xiao from Pei-Ling, that involves a magical candle used to exorcise evil spirits from accused witches. Henry mentions the women were falsely accused, just to add another level to it. And Pei-Ling has a chain around her ankle in case Xiao takes over and becomes a danger.

Simon and Zhilan -- he gives her his sword, that was sweet. I know she killed him once but I kinda ship it. Zhilan having to watch Simon die again though, ouch. Even though the first time it was her fault.

Zhilan and Pei-Ling -- eventually the narrative of the two sisters intersect. Zhilan and Pei-Ling each fighting their enemy in a non-corporeal kind of place. The set design on this series is lovely. Both places are in black & white (Pei-Ling's mind battle with Xiao) or washed out gray (Zhilan's with the soul eater), with splashes of red. Turns out the soul taker and Xiao are linked and Xiao is feeding on the light of the souls, something both Henry and Pei-Ling see during the ritual. (Henry seems deeply shaken after, maybe because of his role as the compass, it affected him a certain way).

"My mind is like a cage...I thought the poison I felt was your anger. I know now it wasn't your anger. It was fear." Pei-Ling contains Xiao by shutting her in a mental cage. "My mind, my rules." (One of Kung Fu's EP's is Robert Berens who worked on SPN, and this put me in mind of Dean Winchester containing AU Michael in his mind--"I'm the cage.") It's not going to hold Xiao forever, but Pei-Ling (like Dean) has a strong will so it should hold for a while.

Jin -- Jin seems like he should be the politician and run for office since this guy he's working for seems a bit shady.

Althea and Evan solving crimes together for hire is fun. Althea Shen, PI.

Nicky and Henry -- so Nicky and Henry are very much broken up right now but when Nicky's worried about Pei-Ling, she turns to Henry. Only after Ryan suggests it. Nicky is trying to give Henry his space. But as soon as she's face to face with Henry, she shows her fear and vulnerability and it's clear she relies on him still. Just something about couples who break up and then at the first sign of trouble, draw together again and act protective and are there for each other. I realize this might not mean the romantic relationship is going to be restored or healed anytime soon necessarily, but the bond between Nicky and Henry is a strong tie regardless and I really enjoy them.

Zhilan and Pei-Ling --

Nicky and Bo -- there is nothing wrong with Bo except he's not Henry. I won't hold it against him. Bo was right to step back when Nicky seemed that distracted and every time he turns around, she seems to be running back to her ex, whose apartment she was living in while Henry was gone. But Nicky does seem to be into Bo and wants to make that work. We'll see where that winds up.

Mei-Li, Carrie, and Sebastian -- there's a rich small arc in this ep about privilege and culture told via the lens of food. I really like how this show gets written. Carrie (played by the wonderful Kim Rhodes), a white woman, giving lectures to Mei-Li and Sebastian about what can and can't count on the menu of a Chinese restaurant, for an "authenticity" that by Carrie's own words, is a corporate business consideration mandate. "For the brand." Carrie's corporate voice was insisting on a purity, but not an authentic one--it was a purity of brand based on marketing not the views of the two Asian people she works with. Carrie spoke over them. Sebastian rightfully calls Carrie out policing Sebastian's Filipino dish, although he cuts short of saying the blunt words we know were about to come out of his mouth. And I don't think he's wrong. Mei-Li works things out with Carrie more gently, and assures Sebastian's Filipino dish stays on the menu, then asks Sebastian to be more gentle with Carrie, who is a partner with them. There's a lot of layers there on different approaches, maybe different generational approaches too, in calling people on white privilege. I don't like that Carrie is snooping into Sebastian's background, although I think Carrie is a decent person. She is no doubt still concerned about "the brand" and the success of the restaurant and worried about Sebastian but I think she's going to have more of her assumptions disrupted. Should be interesting to see how Carrie and Mei-Li navigate each other, and how Mei-Li and Sebastian's friendship fits orbiting that.

[lenreli]

tagged by @chaoticdweeb thanks!!!

RULES: Tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with!

currently reading: Aside from fanfic, The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers. I also got some other older horror to read, as well as.... many other books....

last song: The Retrosic - Desperate Youth

last movie: Playing God! It had Alan Tudyk in it. Love that funky dude.

last series: Probably The Liberator I think. 🤔 NO WAIT. I’ve been watching Kung-Fu.... Zhilan pretty....

sweet, savory, or spicy: All of the above. Though if I had to rank, spicy > sweet > savoury.

craving: Boba. Would love my pandan boba from Chatime at any time thanks.

coffee or tea: Neither. Though I do have Russian Caravan tea, which is a tea I like. And boba! 

currently working on: Which gifset ideas to bring out into ps. Trying to get motivation up for some baking/writing... Brain is being difficult so. :/ Motivation is so fickle in pandemic times.

I don’t feel like tagging, but if you wanna do it, feel free to tag me! 

[dancingkirby]

Azula Week Day 5: Smiles

Summary: Zuko decides to invite all of his and Azula’s illegitimate half-siblings to the brunch on his and Mai’s wedding day.  It goes less badly than Azula had feared.

Warnings/Notes: Multiple non-graphic references to past sexual abuse of multiple underage girls, leading to one death and one near-death in childbirth.  (Don’t worry, it has a happy ending!).  Classism, internalized misogyny, etc. on Azula’s part.  OC-heavy.  One GoT reference that sort of wormed its way in there under its own volition.  

Word count: 2667 (longer than I had been anticipating!)

After many, many delays, the day of Zuko and Mai’s wedding was finally imminent.  There, would, of course, be intense media coverage and a general holiday for the populace, as well as thousands of guests. However, Zuko had also come up with the idea to have a pre-wedding brunch for family and close friends only. This wouldn’t be so outlandish, except that to him, “family” included Ozai’s bastards…every single one that he could find.

“Even the commoners, Zuzu?” she had sighed when he broke the news.  “It’s not a good image.  People at court are already talking.  We ought not to remind everyone of our baggage.”

“They’re not baggage, Azula,” he retorted.  “They’re our siblings.”

“Half-siblings,” she corrected as she brushed a cherry blossom from her shoulder; they were sitting in the courtyard watching the decorations being put up.  

Azula,” her brother admonished.  He spent what seemed like an absurd length of time trying to figure out what to say next, looked to make sure the decorators weren’t eavesdropping, then added, “I’ve been to their houses, you know that.  I’ve spoken with them personally, and I know all of their names and their stories.  You don’t want to know what I found out.”

“Don’t I, brother?” Azula inquired in faux innocent tones.  Zuko rubbed a knuckle against his forehead.

“Fine.” He conceded. “Here’s just one of the stories. There was a girl.  Lian.  Her father died suddenly, and her mother was sick a lot.  So she and her older siblings had to find jobs in the palace so the family wouldn’t starve.  She wasn’t even old enough to legally be hired, but they found work for her in the laundry under the table.  Her job was to go from room to room, gathering the dirty clothes.  I think you can see where this is going.  And…she died giving birth.  She was just a child.”  Sparks flew out of his nose as he exhaled forcefully.

“You’re rambling, Zuzu.  And watch the volume,” Azula stated almost without thinking.  Internally, however, her mind was spinning.  As much as she hated to admit it, Azula had not been prepared for that last part.  Died? Five years ago, she would have dismissed Lian as not fit to live anyway.  But now…she knew that she herself had been near death in that same situation, no matter how much the doctors had tried to sugarcoat it.

She was able to remain expressionless, however, and asked, “And the baby?”

“His name is Chun. The youngest of the bunch; just turned four.  Cute kid.”

That would place his conception sometime in the weeks after the Day of Black Sun, during which Ozai had lost his last vestiges of self-control and everyone else in the palace suffered.  For all she knew, Lian could have been one of the ones Azula herself had witnessed; she’d never bothered to find out any of their names.

“Any other dead?” she queried.

“No, thankfully.  Many of the mothers have permanent medical problems, though.  Some have turned to alcohol.  A few of the kids were adopted out.  Acknowledging and welcoming them and their children...well, it’s the least we can do.  It’s the…”

Wait for it.

“honorable thing to do.”

And that was that.  Once the h-word was added to the equation, there was no changing her brother’s mind.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was the morning of the big day.  Zuko had decided to get the inevitable family photos done at the brunch, since Fire Nation weddings were lengthy and the smaller children would probably be tired after a long day of ceremonies.  Currently, he and Mai were standing at the entrance to the courtyard, greeting the guests as they walked in.  

There were twenty-one acknowledged bastards; everyone at court knew that.  Zuko had managed to track down an additional twenty-three, and he wasn’t even certain that he’d found them all.  This meant that their lord father had sired at least forty-six children…well, technically forty-seven, Azula thought as she fingered the footprint pendant on her necklace.  Twenty-eight of those had been born during his not quite six-year reign as Fire Lord.  Had she not known for herself how insatiable Ozai had been, she may have found the number mind-boggling.

What was more, their heretofore unacknowledged half-siblings tended to skew younger than the acknowledged ones.  The noblemen of the court who were actually decent people (or at least concerned about marriage prospects) had started keeping their young daughters home a couple of years into Ozai’s reign.  That meant a veritable flood of children ten and under, most of them having never come anywhere near the palace prior to this.

She nibbled on a green onion tartlet as she stood on a slight rise, surveying the goings-on in the courtyard.  Some children were wandering around, looking at their surroundings with big eyes.  A sizable group had been attracted by Ty Lee’s impromptu acrobatics performance.  Ursa was sitting by the pond, commiserating with some of the young mothers.  Kiyi had taken it upon herself to give people tours of the grounds whether they asked for it or not.

But…where was…?

Azula was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even fully register the timid tug on her sleeve until it was repeated a few seconds later.  She looked down for the source, and saw a small boy, wearing what must have passed for finery in whatever tiny village he came from.

“Bathrooms are that way,” she said for about the tenth time today as she pointed with her finger. But apparently that wasn’t the reason this child had sought her out.

“Are you the Princess?” he asked.  Except the “r” sounded more like a “w.”

“I am,” she confirmed. Then she watched, bemused, as the kid sank into a kowtow with surprisingly good form for a child of that age…not to mention a peasant.

Azula would not smile. She would not smile.

“You may rise,” she told him automatically, with all the solemnity she would give to an adult.  He sprang back up.

“Aunty said we have to do that if we see the Fire Lord or Fire Lady or Princess,” he explained in a rush.  “I saw the Fire Lord and he said don’t do it, but I wanted to do it because I practiced!”

Pwacticed.

She…was smiling, wasn’t she?  Damn.

“What is your name?” she asked him.

“Chun,” he answered. Azula had already had her suspicions when he had mentioned an aunt instead of a mother, and this confirmed them. This was the one Zuko had mentioned, whose mother had died.

“Well, Chun,” she said, “Your aunt was correct, generally speaking.  However, Zuzu does have his hangups about etiquette.  If you really want to pay obeisance, I would suggest a bow instead.  Would you like to learn the correct form for that?”

“Yeah!” he cheered.  Azula was quite sure that in the entire history of the world, no four-year-old had ever been as enthused about learning courtly manners.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chun had the three different depths of bowing down in about five minutes.  Azula had always considered herself good at sniffing out potential, and this child had heaps of it.  Perhaps one day he could find work as a palace bureaucrat, and even ultimately be appointed to a seat on the Fire Lord’s council.  She supposed that Zuko’s incorrigible stubbornness had had some merit for once; otherwise, Chun’s talents would have been wasted among the riffraff.  He was also tremendously eager to please, and refused to leave her side.  Azula got the feeling that nobody paid much attention to him at home.  

It almost made her wish that she hadn’t been so harsh toward Mai’s younger brother a few weeks ago. For someone who continued to know nothing about children except that they liked gross stories, she sure seemed to attract a lot of children.  

As the two of them wandered back to where the main crowd was, Azula provided a running commentary about their various half-siblings.

“That woman in the glasses is Anshi, the oldest,” she informed Chun.  “Great with numbers, and even beat Iroh at Pai Sho once.  Very boring conversationalist, though.  The lady in that hideous gown next to her is Zhilan.  She can lightning bend, yet refuses to actually learn how to use it effectively because she prefers to spend her days arranging flowers and playing the erhu like a proper lady.”  She shook her head.  

“She’s fat!” Chun exclaimed brightly.  Azula chuckled.

“Sssh.  Well, to be fair, she doesn’t have my flawless physique, but actually she’s expecting her third child.  Perhaps she thought that people would be so blinded by that monstrosity of an outfit that they wouldn’t notice?” She pulled Chun along before her vision was permanently ruined by what even Ty Lee would likely reject as too over-the-top.  Although it was unclear how much of her gossip the child actually understood, he didn’t appear bored.

“There’s Ichiro; he’s skilled at archery and so aloof that he makes Mai seem warm and inviting. And…ugh, that’s Eri, stuck-up as ever. Do not go near her,” Azula cautioned. The girl apparently ruled over the Royal Fire Academy for Girls just as Azula herself had done a decade earlier, but unfortunately lacked the intellect to be anything more than a common bully. Best to give her a wide berth like Kiyi did.

“Who’s that?” Chun piped up while pointing at a pair of children dressed in bright red from head to toe.

“Those are Akane and Akemi.  Twins. They’re the youngest of the Acknowledged, and they’re…”

Azula never got to say exactly what it was that Akane and Akemi were, since just then, there was a commotion at the courtyard entrance.

“Sorry I’m late!” yelled the new arrival.  As she turned to greet the soon-to-be newlyweds, her face was somewhat obscured. However, Azula had no difficulty recognizing her.  She’d know that short haircut anywhere.

Ruanyu.  Azula’s breath caught in her throat.  They hadn’t seen each other in nearly five years.  After so long without any contact, she’d been starting to think that her half-sister was dead.

“How about you run over to the Fire Lord and show him your bow?” she asked Chun.  He scampered off happily enough.

Azula was not anticipating that this would be a happy reunion.  Once, they had been close, and Azula had even allowed Ruanyu to call her by her given name.  However, she really had treated the girl more like a pampered yet disposable pet than anything else, and had all but forgotten her in the events leading up to Sozin’s Comet.  In fact, she hadn’t remembered that she had left the girl to her own devices until months later, when she was in the hospital.  

Then Ruanyu looked her way, paused for a split second, and began running toward Azula at top speed. Azula steeled herself, her heart racing. She remembered that the feisty little girl had held her own in sparring matches, and she was prepared to repel any firebending that might come her way.

What she was not prepared for was being nearly knocked off her feet by the sheer enthusiasm of her half-sister’s embrace.  When they pulled apart, Azula attempted to remain stoic, but the sheer magnetism of Ruanyu’s famous ear-to-ear grin was too much for her to resist.

“I see you managed to escape,” she commented dryly.

“Yeah.  My mom smuggled us out after the whole Phoenix King thing,” Ruanyu answered while shrugging, as if it were of no great importance.

Azula became painfully aware that everyone in the courtyard was watching them.  In fact, Zuko was leading the spectators in some applause, Ty Lee ran over to get her hug, and Mai made a cough that sounded a lot like the word “Finally.”

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Azula accused Zuko.

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” was all he said in response.

“It seems that you succeeded in something for once,” Azula remarked in as deadpan a tone as she could manage.  Then, to Ruanyu, “Let’s go talk somewhere more private.”  Ruanyu agreed, and they retreated to Azula’s favorite shady little enclave.  Once they were out of earshot, Azula decided to cut right to the chase, as she looked at the face that was almost like looking in a mirror.

“If you’re angry at me, then say so.  Don’t hold back on my regard.”

Ruanyu bit her lip as she considered.

“I was angry at you.  Really angry for a while,” she commented.  “But I decided to forgive you.  Zuko told me about what Ozai did to you.”  Her eyes hardened.  

“Did he do anything to you?”   Azula had to know.

“Nah.  Well, he kept saying all this creepy stuff, but I was always faster than him,” Ruanyu replied.  She was obviously trying to be casual, but not quite succeeding.  She was sixteen; old enough to know that she had only just dodged a lightning bolt, and that others had not been as fortunate.

“And just what have you been doing these past years?” she inquired.

“Mom took us back to the village where she grew up.  She wanted me to settle down with some boring man and raise a family.  But that’s…not me.  So I’ve been doing a lot of traveling, seeing the world,” Ruanyu explained. Yes, Azula remembered her half-sister’s thirst for adventure well.  In fact, she had briefly considered taking the girl to the Earth Kingdom, but had decided against it since she knew that Ruanyu would never have gone along with taking Zuko and Iroh prisoner.  

She asked, “Any plans for after the wedding?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Ruanyu answered.  “I think I might stay at the palace again for a bit, then set off again.  I’m interested in seeing that new city that Zuko and his friends are building; he told me that they’re looking for settlers.”

Someone cleared their throat behind them.  “Did someone say my name?”  Azula turned to see that Zuko was indeed present, with one twin hanging off each arm.

“Yeah, I was just telling Azula that I wanted to see Republic City.”

“Well, we’d be glad to have you there.  But, uh, anyway, I came up here to tell you two that the photographer’s setting up.  He has a prototype model of a new kind of camera; one that can take the picture instantly.  I thought the younger kids might find it harder to stand still.”

“Don’t get him started on that special camera,” Mai chimed in as she walked up with Chun trailing behind her.  “He’ll probably spend our entire wedding night talking about it.”

“Not the entire night,” Zuko protested.

“Oh, really?  I suppose I will just have to make sure that you keep your word.”

Azula said, “There are children here, you two!” in almost perfect synchrony with Ruanyu’s “I don’t think I wanna hear this…”  They must have pulled identical faces, since Akane exclaimed, “More twins!”

“Oops.  Forgot about the kids,” mumbled Zuko. “So…yeah.  Picture time.”

And so the soon-to-be-wed couple kissed as they temporarily parted; Mai had to leave to undergo the ordeal of getting dressed in her many-layered wedding outfit.  (“If I’m really lucky, maybe it’ll actually get done sometime this decade,” she said.)  Zuko eventually got the whole group of Ozai’s progeny rounded up.  As her brother enlisted Sokka’s help to explain how the camera worked to those children who had never been photographed before, and Azula snuck appraising glances at the latter, she felt oddly at peace. They made for an odd collection of individuals indeed, but Zuko had been right just this once.  That awful trial was behind them, and they were all stuck in this same recovery boat together.  

After some time, they were all arranged in a more or less organized manner, and Azula made sure that her necklace would be clearly visible in the picture.

“Smile!” the photographer ordered.

And, as they saw weeks later when the developed pictures were sent to them, nearly everyone had.  Even Azula.

[registrardailyreports-blog]

United States Diatomaceous Earth Market- Chanye, Zhilan Diatom, Imerys, EP Minerals, Domolin, Showa Chemical

United States Diatomaceous Earth Market- Chanye, Zhilan Diatom, Imerys, EP Minerals, Domolin, Showa Chemical

This report studies the Diatomaceous Earth Market in United States , analyzes and research the Diatomaceous Earth development status and forecast. Diatomaceous Earth industry report focuses on the top players in United States industry, shown below. The report covers Diatomaceous Earth United States sales and United States Diatomaceous Earth market growth rate [2017 to 2022]. United States…

[archaictold]

DOWNTURNED lips give a sigh... No matter what he does tonight, it seems progress on this paper just isn't in the cards. He should probably put it away then. But——

Instead, the farthest he's succeeded in that is simply staring at everything laid out, blank parchments, ink pens and all, like they'll magically put themselves away. Maybe... he needs a walk to clear his head. Yeah, that might be good.

[archaictold]

❝ Alright, I've put tea on the stovetop. ❞ Zhilan announces with a leisured stroll back into the living room. A delectable scent wafts off the take-out bags resting on the coffee table, which he plops himself in front of with an easygoing sort of eagerness. Without further ado, his hands clasp together with a smile. ❝ Let's dig in before it gets cold! ❞ The plastic rustles as they unpack each entrée, and sometime after they've dug in, wherein Zhilan has sucked a noodle into his mouth, he pauses to poke around at his dinner. ❝ Oh, right. Um... You might be wondering why we're not dining in my room this time... ❞ Stir-fry still sits hot in his belly, but the fluttering alongside it has him pondering if he's mistakenly ingested some butterflies as a side dish to their dinner. It's not as though he thinks his brother will react poorly, nor that he's not excited about this decision of his. But... It feels almost reminiscent of when he told him and their grandparents of his plans to relocate to the Harbor: guilty, to have placed such physical distance between them. ❝ It's packed up and full of boxes. ❞

❝ Haochen, I'm moving in with Xerxes. ❞ @stoicstoryteller

[archaictold]

TRUE to his zeal for knowledge, Zhilan was all too happy to oblige. With a push to the center of his spectacles by the forefinger, the scholar perched his lithe body over the other's accumulated pile of books as though to better scrutinize their text. The book in question wasn't penned in a script he fully recognized—something he attributed to the differences between his world and this one—but it was just familiar enough to him that he could decipher most of it. And so he smiled, happy to know he'd be of aid. ❝ They're somewhat legible to me—and I can make out these diagrams just fine. I should be able to point out what you need. ❞ His bottom lip then pushed out in a concentrative pout, a single digit tracing gingerly along the passage on the page. ❝ Let's see… Torture methods, torture methods… Any particular time period? They can vary greatly depending on which era you're looking at. It might help to— ❞ … Suddenly, he paused. ❝ W- wait, torture methods? Just any torture methods? May I ask why? ❞

❝ Are youuu… maybe writing a paper, or…? ❞

@nobully —— cont.

[nobully]

and thennnn perhaps this one ✔️!

RELATIONSHIP BUILDING

Send ✔️ for a daydream my muse has had about/involving yours.

Ding~!

The pomodoro timer goes off and the two friends reading books look up at the same time, eyes meeting across the library table.

"Well," the one in round glasses begins, "that was the fourth time, so we take a 30-minute break now, right?"

His pink-haired companion, also wearing spectacles, nods with a grin. 'Right. What do you think of this method so far?'

'Some guy came up with it using his tomato-shaped kitchen timer.'

Zhilan shut his book with a soft puff of breath, eyebrows scrunched in a thoughtful look. "It really does help with concentration! Actually, I'm more impressed that people are crafting new ways to study even after all this time. Though it does remind me of an old Liyuen technique I read about in the—"

'Zhilan, we're on break,' Wang Yi reminds him before pushing a packet of snacks he'd gotten from the vending machine last time. 'Eat your cookies.'

"Oh, right!" The scholar flushed before accepting them, hands moving over the unfamiliar plastic wrapper. "Not here though, right? Since the library doesn't allow food in carpeted areas..."

'Right, so let's go for a walk.' Wang Yi carefully marks his page with a bookmark before rising to his feet. He's fine with leaving most of their stuff on the table—people are pretty good with leaving things untouched here—but does take care to tuck his "manuscript" notebook under his arm. Across from him, Zhilan is doing the same with his research notes, putting them neatly in a filing folder before setting that in his bag.

As the two of them start walking away, Zhilan pipes up, "I'm always impressed that you only need a notebook for all your notes, Wang Yi. It must be really convenient to have everything in one place!"

'Well, I mean...' Wang Yi tucks his notebook tighter before giving a short laugh. He couldn't exactly say he has nothing more to research and no actual book to write. 'It's getting to the point where I'm wrapping things up, so I don't need to add a lot of info. Most times I'm just confirming what I already know.'

"Oh! Does that mean you're almost done your novel?" Zhilan wonders out loud. "Should I be congratulating you soon?"

'Hahaha, I mean, there's always more books to write, right?' Wang Yi deflects quickly. The day they published his (actual) second-rate fanfiction story would be the moment Nicolette grabbed him by the collar and dumped him in the ocean where she'd picked him up. 'Look, there's the lounge area up ahead. We can snack there.'

Instead of sitting, the pair of them opt to stand by the windows next to a statue of Spirale University's mascot Scuba Steve as they stare out at the ocean lying beyond. Wang Yi hears Zhilan making little satisfied noises as he discovers the magic of junk food while he munches on his own Ore*s. It's so normal he can almost imagine this is just another semester at college after he's made a new friend.

He wouldn't have met Zhilan under normal circumstances: he was majoring in Chemistry and playing basketball in his spare time, while the scholar was a shoo-in for a humanities major who'd love spending days browsing bookshelves. Maybe they would've bumped into each other at the library though, same as Spirale, if he had to look up books for an essay or something. Then Xiao Lu might've found them both and dragged him off, but not before Wang Yi exchanged contacts with Zhilan first.

Instead of pretending to be a novelist, he'd just be himself. Would Zhilan need help with chemistry stuff? He was pretty good at that, but the scholar seemed smart at anything. Maybe he'd be hauling him off to the basketball courts just to get more exercise, or off to the firing range with Xiao Mo and Xiao Lu so they weren't the only one watching her shoot targets. After that, they'd all have hotpot, and exchange stories, and just hang out...

"—ng Yi? Wang Yi, the 30 minutes are almost up."

A hand is waving in front of his face. Wang Yi blinks and wakes from his daydream sheepishly to see Zhilan looking at him with expectant eyes. His robes are are intricate as always, placing him firmly in the realm of fantasy while standing before him.

'Sorry, I spaced off,' Wang Yi blinks quickly.

"That's okay! Are you ready to head back now?" Zhilan asks with a smile.

'Yeah.' He nods and starts leading the way. 'Feeling refreshed, huh?'

"To tell you the truth, I didn't spend the entire break resting..." Zhilan looks a touch guilty as he walks beside him. "Because midway through I thought of another hypothesis I've yet to test for my research topic! So I'm looking forward to whether my theory holds water after I confirm a few facts."

'Sounds like it could be a breakthrough, congrats.'

"Thank you...did you get ideas for your next book too? You looked deep in thought."

'Oh, hah...no, I was just daydreaming,' Wang Yi keeps his tone casual. 'About the most boring stuff ever, actually—going back to school and doing homework, of all things.'

Zhilan looks sympathetic. "Coming from the Akademiya myself, I can relate."

'Right? But here we are, burying our heads in books again.'

He gets a bright laugh in return. "I think there's more motivation when we don't have to deal with grades and deadlines! And well," Zhilan's eyes soften slightly. "Daydreaming about your experiences must be nostalgic."

'Yeah.' Wang Yi agrees, but pauses as his gaze drift towards Zhilan again. Smiling, breathing, laughing. Even if they never met in his world, they were close enough in this one.

'I think I still prefer the real thing,' he mutters inaudibly.

"Hm?" Zhilan doesn't hear and shoots him a puzzled look.

'Nothing,' Wang Yi pats his shoulder and points ahead. 'I see a few guys eyeing our table. We better claim it back.'

"Ah, our books!" Zhilan's head whips back before he starts running. "Wang Yi, I'll go ahead first to stop them!"

'Yeah, you better.'

While Zhilan catches up to the strangers and politely redirects them to another spot, Wang Yi takes his time walking back, eyes taking in every moment. He wonders if the scholar realizes how he pushes up his glasses when trying to make a point...it's a cute little quirk.

By the time he's finally there, the other group is gone and Zhilan's laid out all his papers on the table again with a relieved sigh.

"It would've been troublesome if they cleared off all the books and we had to find them off the return carts," Zhilan remarks while poring over his notes. "Maybe we should break closer to the table next time."

'Good idea,' Wang Yi nods. 'Or I'll scribble a "Do Not Move" sign and leave it here, that seems to work too,'

"Right, not a bad thought!" Zhilan replies instantly, but his eyes don't stop skimming; it's obvious he's eager to dive back into research.

Seeing this, Wang Yi just smiles and swallows back the words in his throat.

Thank you.

For saving their seats. For being his friend.

For living.

[schleckermaul]

VAGUE MISTIFIED TIMELINE! (or, the trauma timeline)

break is in the middle of a shopping trip w/ ismael when the mist descends onto the city. after spotting ismael's sister, they enter it together, experiencing a few nicer memories. ismael learns of his blindness.

(the next few are a wip, bear with me pls.)

first meeting threads w/ new muses where he doesn't have to use mad hatter, still in relatively high spirits.

nicolette and break meet a residual data imprint of kevin regnard, picturing the first time kevin ever killed somebody. more trauma reveals ensue here, including break losing his left eye.

break fights a card before finding yuri, about to be eaten by grim. using mad hatter properly, now. eventually meeting a sentient data imprint of kevin regnard and yuri's dead enemies.

car crash time with wang yi. break is slowly starting to not have a good time physically. mad hatter's draining him, he carries injuries from the previous encounters, gains a few new ones.

by himself, break discovers the sentient data imprint of lady sinclair, in the process of being pulled into the abyss. the bad time is now very much there mentally, as well. he's pretty much ruined at this point.

finally, break finds a sentient data imprint of shelly, hanging out with zhilan, in the gardens of the rainsworths. while his spirits are definitely lifted throughout, he is very much ready to pass out. with no respawns this time around, he's been burdening himself a lot, though he's trying his best to hide it.

[nobully]

❛ can’t sleep? ❜

𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

'No!'

Wang Yi replies automatically before he freezes, sighs, and admits, '...yes.'

"What's wrong? Is the floor too hard?"

Above and beside him, Wang Yi hears the sheets rustling as Zhilan moves to the edge of bed to peer down at him. He's not wearing his glasses which means he has to squint (and that looks weirdly good on him for some reason?), but the combination of tousled hair and sleepy frown just makes Wang Yi think, "cute."

As well as get a growing urge to mess up Zhilan's hair even more just for kicks, which he tamps down with a firm grip on his self-control.

After weeks of scheduling snafus, he'd finally gotten what he waited: peace and quiet with Zhilan thanks to a sleepover in his room (no Sun allowed, thank you very much).

'No, just thinking too hard...' Wang Yi trails off awkwardly. 'Sorry, was I making too much noise?'

"No, I was thinking too," Zhilan smiles at him before groping for his glasses and putting them on. When he looks at Wang Yi again, his eyes are clear and bright as ever. "Sometimes I find it helpful to brainstorm at night, just before I fall asleep."

Wang Yi's not sure if that's actually true or Zhilan just saying stuff to make him feel better, but he returns the smile with one of his own. He thinks they'll drop things there, but the scholar actually keeps going.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Wang Yi hesitates, sorely tempted. But...that'd just be dumping everything on Zhilan.

"You can just vent and I'll listen," the other encouraged, seemingly sensing his doubt. "It might be good just to get it all out instead of keeping it cooped in your head."

'Yeah? Right, okay...' Wang Yi agrees before a stretch of silence follows. Zhilan's in no hurry—the best stories can’t be rushed, is it?—but he does rearrange some pillows to have better back support before his friend speaks his piece.

'Is it the ducks' fault that the swan never got accepted?'

"...huh?"

—

"So you read fairy tales too?" Zhilan remarked after a crash course in Andersen's The Ugly Duckling. "Is this part of your research?"

'No, just babysitting duties,' Wang Yi exhales and stares at the ceiling, arms pillowing his head. 'One of your roommates really enjoys them.'

"Is that why Sun's been telling us stories of monkeys climbing beanstalks and destroying houses in Heaven..."

'Uh, I think he mixed a few of them up there.'

"I see," Zhilan smiled ruefully. "Looks like he's on his way to be an author himself!"

'Man, prayers to his proofreader then.'

They share a moment of sympathy, but Zhilan's quick to get back on task. "So, the baby swan..."

'I don't think he was ugly,' Wang Yi says after a moment. 'He was just too different, so he stuck out the more he tried to fit in. And they picked on him until he stopped trying, then scorned him for being himself.'

"Do you think the ducks were at fault?"

'I've tried, but I can't blame them. They might have started it, but it's hu—herd nature to band together and leave out the weirdos. They were just...acting the way they've always known.'

"Hmm," Zhilan muses. "But if the ducks had defended the swan from the start, he might've been accepted by all the barnyard animals."

'They didn't have to do that. The swan wasn't even one of them.'

"They were still family. The mother duck hatched the baby swan from his egg and cared for him like one of his own."

'Yeah, until he stuck out so much she regretted him too.' Wang Yi narrows his eyes. 'That's when I thought the swan was at fault for not fitting in better. But how could he figure that out by himself? He didn't have anyone...to teach him.'

If the baby swan knew a Xiao Mo or Xiao Lu, then he might have come to far less grief.

"But would he listen even if he was taught?" Zhilan asks after some thought. "From what I heard you tell me, the baby swan always stuck to his beliefs. He didn't try to purr like a cat or lay eggs like a hen despite his survival being on the line. Maybe it was less important to be accepted than to be himself, even if he didn't know who that was."

'Was it worth living through a whole winter of misery just for that? If he knew how easy it'd be after fitting in, he might have tried harder.'

"Maybe! But it worked out for him in the end, didn't it? He survived and grew into his feathers to be a beautiful swan."

Wang Yi snorts. 'You mean he got lucky while being dumb and beautiful. The guy didn't even bother checking his reflection once while his feathers were molting.'

"That might have scarred him more, actually..."

'Oh, good point.'

"In any case, the story misled us from the start!" Zhilan points out. "It wasn't about an 'ugly duckling' at all, but a lost baby swan. The author simply used the title to trick his readers."

'That's true, too...'

"So what would you have done?"

'Huh?'

"As an author, I mean." Zhilan's perched on the edge of the bed, hands cushioning his chin as he peers down at Wang Yi. "If you were writing this fairy tale with an actual ugly duckling, how would it go?"

It's always at times like these that Wang Yi's lies come to bite him in the ass. But if he thinks about it, making up stories isn't much different from weaving lies, and both are convincing enough with a bit of truth included.

'Well...' Rolling on his side, Wang Yi faces Zhilan squarely. 'I wouldn't change much, actually, because I don't really know what barnyard animals think.'

Or how normal people work.

'But I'd probably give him a couple of friends to start?'

'Like a cat who knows too much too well, and a dog who thinks he gets everything but actually knows splat.'

Because that's how it went with imperfect people. You walked around with missing parts until you found others like you, then joined up your jumbled pieces to form a whole. It wasn't pretty or perfect but it filled in the gaps, which was sometimes all you needed. His Bai Mo and Lu Ren are like that. He guesses Nicolette and Zhilan are too, though the latter would be a much smarter puppy.

"That's nice...but wouldn't the cat and dog bully the duckling?" Zhilan wonders out loud. "I've seen that happen with smaller birds in real life."

'Oh yeah, for sure.' Wang Yi still remembers the time Bai Mo slapped him for a thoughtless cannibalism remark. 'That's uh, what you call survival of the fittest or something, right? They'd work it out eventually if they're friends. Or if not, the duckling can just fly away after getting wings. It's fine either way.'

He's always been great at leaving before he gets chased off, after all.

"Hmm..." Zhilan tries to see how condoning bullying could ever lead to a happy ending, but fails. "Maybe you should just stick to writing for adults, Wang Yi."

'Huh? Is it no good?'

"Your message might be a bit too advanced for children to understand..." the scholar replies diplomatically. "Still, what happens in the ending?"

'Oh, let me think.' Wang Yi's never considered his future before. He figures Lu Ren will eventually settle down with someone he loves and Bai Mo calm down, period. 'The dog will probably start a family and the cat...become head of local law enforcement.'

Back in their world, Bai Mo was definitely earning high honors at the police academy before the whole transmigration disaster.

"Huh? Does a farm need law enforcement?"

'They were acting pretty lawlessly in the story, don't you think?'

"I suppose you're right." Maybe this was another case of fairy tale logic. Privately, Zhilan resolves to do more research on the genre before he starts another debate. "What about the ugly duckling? Does he go find more of his brethren?"

'Hahaha, I hope not. He can just stick around the other two.'

"That's rather different from the original!"

'Not really,' Wang Yi counters. 'The swan got to find other swans because they were all beautiful to begin with. The ugly duckling's not pretty at all, so he can find beauty in his friends' lives...or something like that.'

"Maybe he has a beautiful heart..." Zhilan suggests. He's pretty sure children's stories are supposed to have uplifting lessons, but why does this one sound more questionable by the second?

'Nah, he's heartless,' Wang Yi replies with such conviction that it almost sounds like fact. Surprised, Zhilan's quick to follow up.

"That can't be true," he pushes gently. "Otherwise, why would the cat and dog have befriended him?"

'Because they're better than him. Nicer, I mean.'

"Even if that's the case, would they have stuck with the duckling all these years if he wasn't their companion?"

'I mean, once you get used to something, it becomes a habit to keep it around—'

"That's not how friendship works."

It's rare for Zhilan to interrupt anyone, yet when he does Wang Yi listens, looking up with a vague sense of having said something wrong. The muffled mix of street lamps and moonlight shining through the deck curtains casts the scholar's face in a soft, intangible glow. Zhilan seems gentle as always, but there's a sharp crease between his brows that doesn't match any of the expressions Wang Yi knows.

"At least...not the ones I've had. And that's not how my friendship with you works either, Wang Yi."

Oh. Um. Well.

'Yeah...I mean, I know.'

It's not how his friendship works with Xiao Mo and Xiao Lu either, but so many things had happened since they last met while alive. Years and two lifetimes have passed...and now he's three worlds away. The truth bothers him as much as the thought that it should bother him more.

'I got carried away. Sorr—'

"Ah no, wait!"

Wang Yi's interrupted again, by a more fast-paced voice this time. He sees Zhilan waving his hands as he sits upright in bed, anxious to make a point.

"I got carried away first! I forgot, we were just talking about stories..."

At least this part of him Wang Yi can always understand. It was a desire to make amends when really, Zhilan doesn't have to compensate for anything at all.

'...I'm glad you feel that way, actually,' Wang Yi pipes up, and this time it's his turn to try soft. 'It's been a while since I've seen my old pals so I guess I've been feeling bitter.'

At himself, though. He was already taking so long to complete those missions; how much longer would they take now?

He sees more than feels Zhilan relax, notes the slumping of shoulders, the smoothing of brows. "I can understand that. I've left people behind too..." the other trails off, almost wistful. "...but I'm sure they're thinking about us even here."

You mean the ones still alive? Wang Yi wonders and tastes bile in his throat. Though he remembers the dead can curse the living just fine...might be nice to feel that, just to confirm they're still around...

"Is this what's been keeping you up?"

Zhilan's voice calls him back again. Wang Yi half shrugs and tries for noncommittal. 'A little.'

"I see...is there anything I can do to help?"

Wang Yi opens his mouth, ready to say no. It's not like doing anything here will make a difference back home. But what about Zhilan? He was different from the guy who had the emotional capacity of well, an ant. Albeit it was an ant that was frequently triggered but otherwise, a pretty shallow guy.

'...maybe we can hold hands,' he suggests after a second.

Zhilan blinks.

'I mean it's childish, but it's making a connection, you know? Sorta like touching bases away from home?'

And feeling something too, physical sensation replacing where lack of emotions ran empty.

'I know it sounds lame, so you don't have to if you don't wan—' But Zhilan is already there, reaching down from his bed until his fingers entwine lightly, warmly, with the digits on the floor. Wang Yi's so surprised he doesn't move at first, fingers curling back in reflex only a second later.

''Does this help?" Zhilan asks after they are well and truly holding hands.

'...your arm will get cold,' Is the first thought Wang Yi voices after seeing Zhilan's pajama sleeve sticking outside of his covers.

"Don't worry, it'll be fine for a little while."

'Oh. A-all right, then...' And Wang Yi breathes before he squeezes the hand once. Twice. 'Yeah. Thanks.'

He's too embarrassed to say more after that. Honestly, he should really tell Zhilan to stop indulging him. What if he got addicted to the preferential treatment or something...sheesh.

But between his racing thoughts, his eyelids start to flutter—is he actually dozing off now? What the hell?

"Good night," a soft voice whispers above him.

Wang Yi slips serenely into a soundless sleep.

[archaictold]

IT’S   a case of mistaken identity that lands him in this predicament, and perhaps an overhanging misfortune at large that would lead him bumbling straight in the path of a snowball fight. Unequipped for a brawl amidst snow piles and mittened, bundled, and scarfed citizens, Zhilan ducks through the battlegrounds with a clumsy sort of lack in precision. Dodging this way and that, he narrowly avoids a snowball as it careens past his shoulder. It first seems like a stroke of luck to not be hit... But as he rights his attention forward, he’s quick to notice that someone else has been struck and the real culprit has fled, leaving him standing there with the proverbial egg on his face and looking completely to blame. Instantly his hands are up to plead his innocence, but seemingly out of thin air a snowball manifests itself off the ground and splats! right smack dab between his spectacles.         ❝ W- Wait—Mmpghh!! ❞ Well... he supposes he should have seen that coming. Though rather than be angry at this case of mistaken identity, he dusts the powder white snow from his face with a bewildered—and a surprisingly impressed—expression, glasses askew.

        ❝ How did you throw that? The... The snowball moved entirely on its own. ❞ @oneeyedpsychic​  ——  winterfes!