another inhale and exhale, deep and measured. he reaches up for the hand on his eyes with his own, fingers ice cold, and lifts it, briefly. ]
...What I told you the other day was true - I was in disguise as a fragrant master, but I didn't have to pretend.
[ he lifts his other hand, and... with careful, measured strokes, begins to spell something in her palm, speaking as he spells the letters. ]
T-H-E-R-E A-R-E W-A-Y-S.
[ gu yun won't be broken apart as his sight starts to leave him. it will leave him strongly disadvantaged, if too many people find out - but he's been coping with it for so long, it doesn't matter. he will survive. he always does. ]
Edited (hit enter too fast aaa) 2021-02-24 01:42 (UTC)
I kind of thought that might be the case. [she says, after a moment, biting her bottom lip. she has to take all this in stride so she doesn't get angry again. she can't control it very well anymore.
but she closes her eyes, and lets him spell into her hand. listens, in a sense, to what he's telling her. and she nods.
there's something about this that does it. he traces words against her palm and she thinks - there are always ways. there are ways to save people. there's always a third option.
she thinks, you won't get hurt, not because of me, and it kickstarts them both right into a memory. just until 4:34.
the echo of it - of her desperate, wild desire to reach for her brother, to get to him, to tell him she was there, she's here, she's here -- it leaves her gasping.]
[ magic is still a mostly new thing, for gu yun. when he sees the world through wrath's eyes, he sees hands that aren't marked by flames - doesn't feel the flicker of it up his skin - but perhaps what he feels is a lot worse.
when the memory finishes, gu yun releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. his headache rewards him with a screaming jolt of pain, and he keeps his eyes shut, firmly tight, the hand that was spelling letters into her palm now grabbing onto it and holding for the sake of anchoring to reality. he's not an emotional person. he's not someone who reacts, someone who shares anything along the lines of vulnerability, and to be intimately buried into someone else's story is a lot.
so magic, magic is new. (it's not, really. not from experiencing other people's memories - the world outside of wrath's eyes looks a lot like molly's, actually, in more ways than he's really expecting.) but the feeling of poison in your back feels so familiar that he knows it, and maybe his containment hadn't been so literal, but - it was a containment all the same. having to reconnect yourself with the world, moment by moment. having to force yourself with every amount of spite you have in your body to be a functioning thing.
mollymauk said it to him, earlier, when gu yun ran into him in the hour of clarity before the migraine hit. it sticks with him now - he drums up the persona he puts on every day, shoves the pain aside, and says, clear as a bell, almost a command - ] Tell me you're here.
[ the hand stays. squeezing, tight. tell me you're here, in this plane, in this reality, right in this second, not caught up in a memory. ]
[by comparison wrath is someone who reacts, first, before anything else, and maybe that's why she works so well with fire. it's easy to burn. it's easy to lose your mind to emotion, even if you try to bury it with jokes and deflection, and she's had such a hard time with even that, lately. she's forgetting how to stay calm. and she'd forgotten, a little, what it was like to be trapped in that fucking umbrella, and so relieving it makes her furious, makes her want to set the room alight, makes her want to scream and feel, just because she can.
but he holds her hand, and he speaks, clear and bright, and it knocks her out of it.
she's here. not there, with her brother, her twin, her heart.]
Y - yeah. [she manages, opening her eyes. she shudders, horribly, feeling sick.]
feeling like he’s going to pass out from thinking too hard is at least keeping him from pondering those deeper questions, at least for now. it maybe keeps his usual panic response to someone feeling too much in his general vicinity muted, keeps him from saying something more immeasurably stupid to make it worse. there’s a brief moment where he’s reminded of the screaming nightmare he’d awoken chang geng from, the night before he left for the western frontier, and ...
he keeps her hand, and uses his other arm to reach out and catch the back of her neck. His fingers are cold as ever, especially like this - but he gives a gentle tug, to pull her closer into his chest. even like this, a part of him will always be the protector, the strong one, marquis with a spine made of steel.
they can just lay there, for a minute. that’s fine, too. ]
she curls close, when he pulls, and wraps her arms around him. focuses. the way his body feels, the way he smells, the way he is present keeps her grounded. she can touch, she can see, she can hear - she can match him. she can warm him up. and she will, she tangles their legs and just lays with him for a while, letting him soak in her body heat, intensified by the flame inside her.
just for a little bit, she thinks, they can have this. this peach blossom spring.]
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no subject
[ will he? we will see! (gy voice) i'm fine.
another inhale and exhale, deep and measured. he reaches up for the hand on his eyes with his own, fingers ice cold, and lifts it, briefly. ]
...What I told you the other day was true - I was in disguise as a fragrant master, but I didn't have to pretend.
[ he lifts his other hand, and... with careful, measured strokes, begins to spell something in her palm, speaking as he spells the letters. ]
T-H-E-R-E
A-R-E
W-A-Y-S.
[ gu yun won't be broken apart as his sight starts to leave him. it will leave him strongly disadvantaged, if too many people find out - but he's been coping with it for so long, it doesn't matter. he will survive. he always does. ]
no subject
but she closes her eyes, and lets him spell into her hand. listens, in a sense, to what he's telling her. and she nods.
there's something about this that does it. he traces words against her palm and she thinks - there are always ways. there are ways to save people. there's always a third option.
she thinks, you won't get hurt, not because of me, and it kickstarts them both right into a memory. just until 4:34.
the echo of it - of her desperate, wild desire to reach for her brother, to get to him, to tell him she was there, she's here, she's here -- it leaves her gasping.]
no subject
when the memory finishes, gu yun releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. his headache rewards him with a screaming jolt of pain, and he keeps his eyes shut, firmly tight, the hand that was spelling letters into her palm now grabbing onto it and holding for the sake of anchoring to reality. he's not an emotional person. he's not someone who reacts, someone who shares anything along the lines of vulnerability, and to be intimately buried into someone else's story is a lot.
so magic, magic is new. (it's not, really. not from experiencing other people's memories - the world outside of wrath's eyes looks a lot like molly's, actually, in more ways than he's really expecting.) but the feeling of poison in your back feels so familiar that he knows it, and maybe his containment hadn't been so literal, but - it was a containment all the same. having to reconnect yourself with the world, moment by moment. having to force yourself with every amount of spite you have in your body to be a functioning thing.
mollymauk said it to him, earlier, when gu yun ran into him in the hour of clarity before the migraine hit. it sticks with him now - he drums up the persona he puts on every day, shoves the pain aside, and says, clear as a bell, almost a command - ] Tell me you're here.
[ the hand stays. squeezing, tight. tell me you're here, in this plane, in this reality, right in this second, not caught up in a memory. ]
no subject
but he holds her hand, and he speaks, clear and bright, and it knocks her out of it.
she's here. not there, with her brother, her twin, her heart.]
Y - yeah. [she manages, opening her eyes. she shudders, horribly, feeling sick.]
... I'm here. I'm here.
no subject
feeling like he’s going to pass out from thinking too hard is at least keeping him from pondering those deeper questions, at least for now. it maybe keeps his usual panic response to someone feeling too much in his general vicinity muted, keeps him from saying something more immeasurably stupid to make it worse. there’s a brief moment where he’s reminded of the screaming nightmare he’d awoken chang geng from, the night before he left for the western frontier, and ...
he keeps her hand, and uses his other arm to reach out and catch the back of her neck. His fingers are cold as ever, especially like this - but he gives a gentle tug, to pull her closer into his chest. even like this, a part of him will always be the protector, the strong one, marquis with a spine made of steel.
they can just lay there, for a minute. that’s fine, too. ]
no subject
she curls close, when he pulls, and wraps her arms around him. focuses. the way his body feels, the way he smells, the way he is present keeps her grounded. she can touch, she can see, she can hear - she can match him. she can warm him up. and she will, she tangles their legs and just lays with him for a while, letting him soak in her body heat, intensified by the flame inside her.
just for a little bit, she thinks, they can have this. this peach blossom spring.]