consignation | eastbound inbox

( EXCUSE the water sloshing in the background, this man has carved himself a fresh life in pipelines: )

Mistress Wen lingered in the banquet halls. Secure her.

( 'Greetings, fair brother-in-cliff-law, how art thou,' etc etc etc )

We cannot return in time.

[ This man has but two moods: anger, and confusion. Except on rare occasions, where an elusive third emotion may be glimpsed such as right now.

It's anger and confusion. ]

Lan Wangji! What's going on? Where are you? Where is Wei Wuxian? How have you been appraised of Lady Wen's status?!

[ But don't worry, Wangji. Contrary as he is, he's already hiked up his skirts to go looking for his dear lady. It's the one name you don't have to say twice to send him running, except maybe Yanli's but, well. Her well-being isn't a problem he's fortunate enough to be having. ]

Aqueducts. Dragon. The outskirts. ( Lan Wangji learning the basics of sentences. ) Your brother lives. We infiltrated.

Can you get a little more specific than lives?! What are you infiltrating? Why are you—

[ Jiang Cheng is going on breathless as he rushes in the direction where he hopes to find Wen Qing, having pretty much every anxiety possible at once. ]

He lives, shallowly scathed.

( What a beautiful backdrop, splashing and thickened water. )

Pipelines carry to the tower's belly. They retained dead here. Captives.

[ Unscathed. Jiang Cheng allows himself a single breath of relief. ]

And you? How scathed?

Inconsequentially. ( A pause. 我们现在是一家人吗？ But, only a sickness ago, and his trust betrayed, brother when intimacy suited purpose. ) Blood spills. We were born sheaths for wounding.

[ That, too, provides relief though Jiang Cheng feels doubt for the accuracy of the statement. He doesn't think Wangji cares enough about him to lie, he just doesn't trust Lan Wangji's ability of self-assessment when it comes to personal injury. He similarly doesn't trust Wei Wuxian. ]

Be careful. I wouldn't be able to face Zewu-jun if something happened to you in his absence on my watch.

( 'You misplace me. The man who is your brother in your care, you left to perish off a cliff.' But, civility. )

Death cannot find me. I have a son. ( Between gritted teeth: ) Jiang Wanyin, a nephew.

You would speak of my nephew in the same breath as a claim that death cannot find those with sons?

( The most biting: )

I give you a gift undeserved.

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un: absterge | dragonpocalyse

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why did I not get my beautiful notif of jiang cheng hiking up his skirts

notif deleted from your inbox by the ghost of madam yu

urgh this one too, f u dw | 1/2

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