#ge memory lane
Text
Ever wondered how to draw this ball of strands?
#gacha every#gacha every art#gacha every art dump#honey evers#ge memory lane#sketch#sketches#messy sketch#oc#original character#oc art#gacha club#gacha oc#gacha art#how to draw#art tip#hair#hair style
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time for a wedding, set in the same reincarnation AU as this and this ficlet by me and this (by @lansplaining)! Btw, I have collected all previous parts in a series on Ao3 for ease of reading: Memory Lane (get it?)
A few people wanted to see what would happen if JGY recovered his memories, which means there is angst coming up... (this drabble turned into 3000 words, so Ao3 link if you prefer!)
For all that Lan Xichen knows his past life, he cannot tell the future. And the future seems dead set on tripping him up, as if holding a grudge in order to counterbalance whatever advantage his past memories may give him.
That is to say, Meng Yao disappears the morning they are supposed to get married.
It was not meant to be a big affair, but even a small modern ceremony ends up being a complex production when overzealous friends and overly-traditional relatives are involved. Lan Huan and Meng Yao had agreed to go to the venue separately, both to appease the loudest aunties and to build up some excitement for their own reunion as husbands. This means Lan Huan has slept at Wangji’s place for the past two days, leaving Meng Yao alone in the apartment they share, and has forced himself not to text him constantly over the past forty-eight hours.
At 10 in the morning on the day of the ceremony, Lan Huan is sweating in his tux on the way to the venue, driven by Wangji; he’s fruitlessly trying to meditate to keep calm, but he can’t quite stamp down his eagerness. For once his nerves are of the positive, tickling variety reserved for happy occasions - he doesn’t expect anything to go wrong today, considering A-Yao planned everything.
He should have known better.
When they are ten minutes away, Lan Huan’s cell phone rings, spooking both brothers out of their meditative silence. It’s Meng Shi, calling from the reception hall. It sounds like she has a hand on the receiver so as not to be overheard.
"A-Huan, A-Yao is not here."
Lan Xichen blanches. “He is what…?”
“He is not here. He is always here first, heavens knows he would be checking every single napkin even on his own wedding day, but today…”
“ I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this. Didn’t you go the venue together?”
“No, he called me a taxi. He said he had an errand to run, but that was two hours ago and he is not answering his phone. He always tells me where he is, A-Huan, and now…!”
“Perhaps he is just late,” Lan Xichen murmurs, his pulse already picking up speed because the very idea is absurd. “What kind of errand? The cake? A-Yao is always very particular about catering…”
“He didn’t say. A-Huan, did something happen?”
“Not that I know of, but I didn’t see him yesterday, we wanted to play up the anticipation a little…” Lan Huan admits. “Did you see him for dinner last night?”
“Yes, I did… A-Yao said he wasn’t feeling well, but I thought it was just nerves,” Meng Shi carefully says, and Lan Huan can almost imagine her pursing her lips. “He said he ran out on his own stag party. I didn’t think much of it, A-Yao has never liked surprise parties.”
Lan Xichen’s brow furrows. “I’ll make some calls. Please wait there, and call me if he arrives.”
He tries A-Yao’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He leaves a quick message, just to be safe: “A-Yao, are you ok? I’m almost at the venue. Let me know if something happened, alright? I love you.”
Carefully ignoring Wangji’s glance in the rear view mirror, he shoots a text to Mingjue and another to Jin Zixuan, asking if A-Yao is coming with them by any chance. Huaisang calls him back from his brother’s phone immediately. “Xichen-ge, did you lose your fiance?”
“Miscommunication,” Lan Xichen replies tightly. “What happened at the stag party, Huaisang?”
“Ayo, I don’t know anything! Xuanyu and I put him in the car and he freaked out as if we were some gangsters coming for his family. He was absolutely no fun the whole evening, after I prepared all the decorations and even the stripper–I mean, the entertainment!”
Lan Xichen pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling the grasping hands of a migraine growing in the back of his skull. “We will discuss this at a later time, Huaisang. Did A-Yao do or say anything strange at the party?”
“He hardly said anything at all, and then he just up and left when we tried to put a veil on him for the photos! Total spoilsport. Did he get cold feet?”
“He is late.”
Huaisang gasps in horror.
“I just want to make sure he is safe. Do you know where he was yesterday afternoon, before you kidnapped him?”
“I resent that wording! Anyway, I think he went to pick up his wedding tux with Jin Zixuan. Trying to be a good brother wa—y too late if you ask me.”
“Alright, thanks. See you at the reception, Huaisang.”
“Is it… still on? Just wondering if I need to get dressed.”
“I’d appreciate yours and your brother’s presence either way,” Lan Xichen says, wryly.
“'mkay, ge. Best of luck.”
When they reach the wedding venue, they are momentarily intercepted by Shufu - Lan Xichen smiles and dodges him, ear glued to his phone as Wangji shadows him to the waiting room and locks the door.
When they are alone, Lan Huan turns to his brother. “Wangji. A-Yao should already be here, but I can’t track him down.”
Wangji’s gaze hardens imperceptibly, and Lan Xichen takes a deep breath and lifts his hands in a pacifying gesture. “I am worried about him. His mother doesn’t know where he is either.”
“Why would he flee?” Wangji asks.
“We should not jump to conclusions,” Lan Xichen cautions, “He… he should have no reason to do so.”
“The reasons may be unrelated to the past,” Wangji offers, after a thoughtful moment. “Car accident, panic attack.”
“Alright, let’s… one thing at a time,” Lan Huan chuckles nervously, trying to push down the bubble of fear growing in his stomach.
For the next few minutes, they both busy themselves calling local hospitals. Thankfully, nobody that looks like A-Yao has been taken to any of the city ERs this morning. Lan Xichen exhales, then dials A-Yao’s number again, letting it ring off the hook.
When it goes to voicemail again, he decides to try his luck and call Jin Zixuan’s number, which he has only because he is very thorough and always prepared for emergencies - or so he thought, at any rate.
“Ah, Lan Xichen,” Zixuan answers on the third ring. “Are you calling to tell me not to come to the wedding? Because A-Li and I are almost there! I already left several apologies on A-Yao’s answering machine, but I don’t know how my brother’s mind works…”
“Why would you apologize?” Lan Xichen asks, suddenly alert. “Did something happen yesterday?”
“It was odd,” Zixuan grunts, and there are background baby noises for a short while - Lan Xichen holds his breath until Zixuan resumes speaking. “One moment he was all dimples, then when he tried on his wedding tux he stopped dead and looked like he’d short-circuited. Stuck like a mannequin. I’ve never seen him not frenetic, which is why I asked him if he perhaps didn’t like the suit? Told him if we paid extra we could get him another one in time for the wedding, though it would not be custom-made… he wasn’t listening at all, just doing this wide-eyed face in the mirror. I had told him that white was not his color, but the reaction seemed extreme!”
“Zixuan, I need to know exactly what he said. Word for word, if you could be so kind.”
Another long sigh, more baby noises. “Well. I forgive him, because god knows I was panicking the day before my wedding, but–he said I should be dead.”
Oh .
“I have to go,” Lan Xichen whispers, and hangs up.
He turns swiftly to his brother. “Wangji. I need you to ask your boyfriend to track A-Yao’s phone, stat.”
Wangji’s eyebrows rise in unadulterated shock, but to his credit he doesn't deny that Wei Wuxian can absolutely do that.
“I… I don’t know where he would go,” Lan Huan admits. “Not in this life.” Where would he run? The uncertainty makes him feel unmoored, like he’s being pulled down by a turbulent sea and can’t keep himself afloat. “I think it’s a... memory emergency.”
“I will ask Wei Ying.”
It takes what feels like an eternity, though in truth Lan Xichen is aware that Wei Wuxian accomplishes the task in a criminally speedy manner, and without asking any questions. Not while he’s in earshot, anyway.
“I sent you the last known location,” Wei Wuxian shrugs at last, “but I dunno if he still has the phone on him or he dumped it.”
“Thank you, Wei Wuxian. Wangji… can I take your car?”
“Mn.” For a moment, Lan Huan can see his brother wants to offer to go with him, so he shakes his head in silence. Wangji hands over the keys and squints at him. “Brother… remember the rule.”
“I know. The past is not the present. The present is not the future. I know, Wangji.”
“Sooo… what do we do with the wedding?" Wei Wuxian interjects, apparently not grasping the gravity of the situation. "We have the venue booked until 2pm but I’m sure they have people lined up for later…”
“I’m sure you’ll think of some way to buy time,” Lan Xichen smiles tightly. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.”
“Did you hear that, Lan er-gege? We gotta think of a distraction~ you got any ideas?”
Lan Xichen is out of the door and behind the wheel as fast as he can be. He keeps an eye on his phone, but the only updates he gets are from Meng Shi saying A-Yao isn’t there yet, and Shufu reminding him of the schedule and cancellation fees.
He tracks down the coordinates to an off-season beach two hours south, a straight line from the city. There’s a parking lot nearby, but it’s empty - A-Yao doesn’t have a car. He pictures him telling an Uber driver to just drive until he tells him to stop, and his heart aches. Still, some irrational hope nestles inside him, whispering that perhaps A-Yao hasn’t thrown away his phone yet. That he may want to be found.
Lan Xichen parks hurriedly across two spaces and hurries out to the sea, sinking in the sand with every step. He pauses to kick off his dress shoes, then resumes running down the seashore. With immense relief, he spots A-Yao, a tiny white-clad figure in the distance, a few hundred meters down the desolate stretch of sea.
Is it embedded somewhere in A-Yao’s soul to run away to the sea, despite knowing that in this life he cannot swim?
“A-Yao!” he calls out, waving his arms clumsily. There is absolutely nobody else out in January, no umbrellas and no chairs, so A-Yao will certainly see him coming from afar - no point making his approach cautious. Lan Xichen had half expected A-Yao to turn tail and make him chase him, but miraculously he does not.
“A-Yao,” he gasps again when he catches up to him, tugging at his collar. “Are you alright, A-Yao?”
His A-Yao turns, dark-rimmed eyes and windswept hair, terse like a winter morning. He’s undone his bowtie and popped a few buttons at his collar, the tuxedo jacket thrown over his shoulder.
“The last time I saw you, you would not call me that anymore,” Jin Guangyao says, his voice raspy from the wind.
“You saw me yesterday morning, A-Yao,” Lan Huan soothes, stepping towards him with his hand outstretched.
“Right.” A-Yao chuckles humorlessly, and draws a circle in the sand with a naked foot. The hem of his pants is caked in wet sand, but he does not seem to mind. “I meant… before.”
He looks down, a strange smile on his face, then takes off his engagement ring and holds it out towards Lan Xichen, without looking up at him. “I should return this.”
Despite the fear gripping his heart, Lan Huan shakes his head firmly. “It’s yours. You don't have to keep it, but I don’t want it back.”
A-Yao’s hand lowers, a little hesitantly. Then his razorblade gaze snaps up and pierces Lan Xichen where he stands. “Er-ge. Can you tell me why every wedding of mine comes with a side of lies?”
Lan Xichen stands to attention. “I never lied to you, A-Yao.”
“You never told me you remembered the past.” It is not a question, so Lan Xichen does not treat it as such.
“Would you have wanted to know?” he asks instead.
A-Yao doesn’t reply for a moment, gaze returning to the gray wintry sea. “What I don’t understand,” he says to the waves, “is why you sought me out, if you remembered.”
“A-Yao... Even if we’d been complete strangers, I would still have fallen for you. But all the more because I remembered you, how could I not seek you out?” Lan Xichen frowns at his poor wording; he had prepared this speech a million times, but now it scatters like sand in the breeze. “My family has a rule against approaching people from the past, did you know? But A-Yao… what do I have these memories for, if not to find you?”
A-Yao’s gaze drops to the sand at his feet, the cold waves lapping at his ankles. “Even after everything?”
Lan Xichen closes his eyes briefly. He’s had a lot of time to think about this. “I’m here, aren’t I?’
The reply seems to strike true. A-Yao looks taken aback, but Lan Xichen dares to hope it's a good kind of surprise. Like that time he surprised A-Yao at the airport with flowers, or the time he offered to teach him to play the qin. He hazards another step closer to him, a mere arm’s length from A-Yao. He aches to touch him, but he can’t. Not yet.
“Mother’s treatment,” A-Yao says abruptly. “Tell me straight.”
“Yes,” Lan Xichen inclines his head. “You and I hadn’t met yet, so I asked a friend to make an anonymous donation in my place.”
A-Yao purses his lips. “I suppose I must thank you.”
“I didn't do it to earn your thanks,” Lan Xichen sighs. “Knowing and not acting would have been unthinkable, that is all.”
“Still, thank you. My mother is… she is everything.” A-Yao looks younger, vulnerable for the space of a breath.
Lan Xichen smiles. “I care for her too. Your mother is wonderful.”
A-Yao almost smiles at that, but it fades before it can reach the top half of his face, his eyes narrowing again in scrutiny.
“You introduced me to Qin Su at June’s charity luncheon. Did you invite her?”
Lan Xichen swallows, painfully. “I did not invite her, but she was there.” He bites his lip. “I looked into it. You are… not related, in this life.”
A-Yao makes a little ‘hah’ sound, as swift as paper ripping. “I’m happy for her. But why did you go out of your way to introduce her to me? You and I had just started dating.”
All Lan Huan can do is shrug, his shoulders stiff and frozen in the confines of his tuxedo. “Tempting fate, I suppose.”
“Still unfailingly selfless,” A-Yao hums, and it is a little too dry to feel like praise.
They look at a pair of seagulls chasing each other among cacophonous screams. They sound particularly shrill, drawing playful circles in the air and around each other.
“It is selfishness,” Lan Xichen eventually admits. “I just wanted to make sure that… I just wanted to make sure.”
A-Yao shakes his head with a small exhale, barely a chuckle. He drops his jacket on the sand and lifts both arms to cup Lan Xichen’s jaw, pulling him slightly closer. His fingers are frozen cold, his eyes dark and serious, with an intensity that halts Lan Xichen’s breath halfway up his throat.
“Lan Xichen, Lan Xichen... in a world in which I can marry you, how could I ever not?” The words, carefully enunciated, hit Lan Xichen’s chilled face in small, warm puffs of breath. A-Yao is not smiling, and that, for some reason, puts Lan Huan’s heart at ease. It gives his words the resonance of unfailing truth, a timeless verdict.
“We still could,” he hopefully offers. “Well, if Wei Wuxian managed to stall enough.”
A-Yao snorts softly, then shakes his head. “Not now. I think… I need to get away.”
He surely notices the sheer horror on Lan Xichen’s face, because his brows knit together in an apologetic squint. “Not forever, gege. Just for a little while, to get my head in order.”
Lan Xichen folds his arms behind his back, and leans into A-Yao’s hands cupping his jaw. “We still have the honeymoon to Japan booked for tomorrow…”
A-Yao chuckles, breathless and disbelieving. Then his dark, half-lidded eyes scan Lan Xichen’s face, considering. “...You’d come?”
“Unquestioningly,” Lan Xichen says. “Right now, if you wanted to.”
“With no luggage?”
“I don’t need anything.”
The answer seems to please A-Yao, because his smile turns a shade more secretive, lashes lowering on his cheeks.
Still, he hedges, thumb tracing Lan Xichen’s chin in direct contradiction with his words. “Er-ge… I can’t ask you to…”
“You need not to ask,” Lan Xichen smiles, eager, desperate to give away his heart. “If we drive to the airport now, we can catch an earlier flight. I’ll call on the way there.”
“A honeymoon while we are still not married,” A-Yao smirks. “What would your shufu say?”
Lan Xichen grins at him with infinite tenderness. “We can marry anytime, but we can only elope once.”
A little skittish, A-Yao puts his hand in his nonetheless, tugging him along as they amble towards the parking lot. They shake the sand off their pants, exchanging half smiles at the state of their attire. They spend an awkward minute tracking down their discared shoes.
When they’re safely in the car, Lan Xichen offers his smartphone to him. “I’m all for eloping, but call your mother and Wangji to make sure they don’t worry, will you?”
A-Yao brushes Lan Xichen’s knuckles delicately before taking his phone from him, and laughs. It’s small, but as wonderful as the first time.
#shiome fic#xiyao#lan xichen#jin guangyao#meng yao#leaving lan xichen at the altar.doc#xiyao drabbles#“drabble” does not really apply anymore but bear with me#angst#happy ending though!
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
A flashback! A little cross-over of sorts. Esme and The Adjudicator
@youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @mrsmungus @tragiclyhip @theesirenteller @thebejeweledwatercat @kmc1989 @karimac @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq
BELOW THE CUT
“Esme Drummond. It wasn’t easy. Finding you. One of the harder challenges I’ve faced. When you ran away, you certainly ran as far as you possibly could.”
She fights to control the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. Nervousness. Fear. Forcing herself to remain calm, cool and collected; recalling those days she’d come face to face with evil and had lived to tell about it.
"I never ran away. I had no reason to. I was spared. Given a second chance. And I took it. This is just where it led me to.”
“A second chance you didn’t earn or deserve. A grand injustice occurred. And I’m here to fix it. I’m an adjudicator. Sent by the High Table. I…”
“I know who you are.”
“Then I assume you know why I’m here.”
“I was cut loose. Excommunicated. I haven’t been back to The Continental, I haven’t done any work for anyone associated with them. I’ve kept my distance. Like I was told to. I found other employment. I never…”
“I’m not here because of something you did or didn’t do. I’m here because you never deserved the second chance you were given.”
“I went before the High Table. I defended my case. I had people speak on my behalf. John Wick and Winston…”
“Never should have been allowed their time before the High Table in the first place. It was an erroneous decision. Allowing them to come to your defence. Many others have broken High Table rules and have paid the price. They weren’t given the same treatment you were. It is a stain on the High Table. One they are desperate to wipe out.”
“It’s been three years. Why…?”
“We had a lot of seats open up. Meaning we have many new members. Powerful ones. Who aren’t as understanding or forgiving as their predecessors. And with new faces comes new business.”
“And that has to do with me because…?"
“One of the first orders of business was to review prior decisions. Regarding those who had broken High Table rules. People who had been given reprieve instead of punishment. And your file just happened to be on the list. Although to be honest, you likely would have continued to fly under the radar. Had you not resurfaced…quite spectacularly…in Dhaka.”
Esme frowns. “Dhaka? What does Dhaka have to do with this? What…?”
“Word gets around. Especially in our circle. The defeat of someone like Amir Asif is something to be praised. Celebrated, even. And it wasn’t exactly subdued was it? The way everything went down. It certainly was an attention grabber.”
“Admittedly, things didn’t go exactly as planned. They got a little…messy.”
“To say the least. You practically shot up and burned the entire city down.”
“To be fair, I had help. And I didn’t really do the dirty work.”
“That’s right. You had a partner. An accomplice. Someone watching over you. Keeping you safe. That means you were, what? Aiding and abetting? You can take the girl out of the criminal underworld but you can’t…”
“Do we really have to take a trip down memory lane? It’s not exactly my favourite thing to relive. Dhaka isn’t going to be on any highlight reel of mine.”
“It really wasn’t ALL bad, was it? Those stories have been passed around as well. About you and the mercenary. You were never known as someone who mixed business with pleasure. All part of ‘turning over a new leaf’, I presume? Unless…”
Her eyes narrow. “Unless WHAT?”
“Unless it was part of the game. Maybe you knew latching onto him would be the only way you’d get out of there alive. You had to find a way to guarantee safe passage out of Dhaka, so you decided to do whatever it took. Even if it meant keeping his body AND his bed warm. It’s clever. You’re even more devious than I originally thought. I admire it.”
“That’s not what happened. Not even close.”
“I highly doubt that your behaviour was genuine. That it was love at first sight. You knew the danger you were going into and you knew you had to do whatever it took to secure your survival. Isn’t that what you do? Con people? Have them believe everything you say is true? For your own benefit?”
“It’s what I DID,” she stresses. “I’m not in that life anymore. I gave it up. Back on that bridge. I left the old Esme behind. I’m not her anymore.”
“So you’re admitting it. You used him. Fooled him. In the same way you did so many others.”
“What happened between Tyler and I was real. Everything I felt, everything I said, everything I did, was genuine. There was no pretending. No lying. No manipulating. It was all real. And I don’t care what you or anyone thinks.”
“You do realize that Dhaka was a mess for many reasons, don’t you? You killed one of ours. Someone who was in very good standing with the High Table. Who had made allegiances with the likes of Amir Asif in order to benefit everyone involved. And things were going so smoothly until you showed up there. And stuck your nose where it didn’t belong.”
It suddenly makes so much sense. Nik’s reluctance to call Gaspar; arguing with Tyler that it wasn’t a good idea that they call his old friend and colleague for help. “Gaspar was in the circle? I thought he retired. Walked away from the game. I thought…”
“He walked away from the private sector. Got into something more lucrative. And then you came along and put a few bullets into him. You just can’t keep out of trouble when it comes to us, can you?”
“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t pull the trigger.”
“So the mercenary did.”
“I never said that.”
“Well considering there were only two of you capable of pulling off such a feat….” The adjudicator’s eyes widen; a smirk tugging at their lips. “Unless it was the boy.”
“What happened that night has no bearing on what’s going on right now. I’m not telling you a thing. Not about what went down at Gaspar’s house. Not about Dhaka in general. I know what happened. WHY it happened. In the same way I know that everything that I felt for Tyler…everything we talked about and experienced together…was real. You can’t take that away from me. No matter how hard you try. No one can.”
“While Gaspar’s untimely and bloody demise may not play a direct part in why I’m here, it holds relevance. You were there when it happened, you did nothing to stop it, and you refuse to say who was directly responsible. Therefore, it adds to the reasons you should be punished. And you will be. Punished.”
“And you came all the way here to tell me this? It couldn’t have been handled through a phone call? An email even?”
Their face hardens. Eyes darkening. “Believe me when I tell you that when it comes to this matter, snark is not in your best interest.”
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quiet talks in the sun
Wu Xie, Xiao-Ge and Wang Pangzi have fled Changsha, hiding out deep in the mountains in the original Wushanju. When Xiao-Ge awakens from his coma with no memories, Wu Xie promises to help him recover them. As they pass the winter in hiding, both Wu Xie and the now-amnesiac Xiao-Ge grow closer, Wu Xie resumes his hunt for the Wangs despite the distance between himself and his allies back home, and strangers flit between the trees.
Part 2 of the Blood and Gold series.
Snippet:
It was too cold to be sitting out on the front step of the old Wushaju, but that knowledge did little to stop Wu Xie. He perched on the threshold, a puffy coat draped haphazardly around his shoulders as he watched clouds of his breath disperse down the winding lane that led to their current hideaway. The sun had finally lost the last of its strength, and the shifting light offered no warmth.
The forest was almost silent. Only the gentle twitter of birds and the quiet rush of the chilly wind through the branches of the surrounding trees accompanied Wu Xie as he sat deep in his thoughts. The hinges of the old gate creaked, speckled with rust after decades of use.
Wu Xie kicked a stone and watched it tumble down the dirt lane before skipping off to the side and vanishing into a bush. He had forgotten this bit. The waiting. Wang Meng had been overjoyed to hear his voice when he had called and had apparently developed a liking for investigating fellow officers. They had easily fallen back into the routine that had structured Wu Xie’s life while at Xiao-Ge’s safe house.
Weekly updates had seemed sensible at the time; they would give Weng Meng plenty of time to perform his snooping, but Wu Xie hated the waiting. It was boring and unsettling all at once, and worst of all, it gave his mind time to wander. He thought back to his tiny apartment with its scuffed furniture and mismatched curtains; all of his stuff had probably long been thrown out by his landlord and he himself formerly evicted by now. His thoughts drifted to Panzi and his uncles. Were they worried? Were they safe?
Read More on Ao3
1 note
·
View note
Text
PICs 4 U🙆
(old&new)
Trip down memory lane as we celebrate Lee Jong Suk's 13th Debut Anniversary.
MODELING ERA
Look: Lee Jong Suk in chan+ge 2009 F/W Seoul Fashion Week
Trivia: At the age of 15, Lee Jong Suk began his modelling career at the Seoul Collection walkway in 2005, making him the youngest male model to debut in the Seoul Collection program at Seoul Fashion Week. Since then, he has walked in a number of fashion shows.
Repost from eri's holiday blog
Thank you for sharing🙏
My @jongsuk0206 #LeeJongSuk is life.
@MyLeeJongSuk2 (our Twitter)
#이종석 #李鍾碩 #李钟硕
#อีจงซอก #イジョンソク
#Decibel #BigMouth
Reposting 27 March 2023
0 notes
Text
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
The 11/11 Story.
Happy 1 year anniv to this event!💐🔪
Let’s go down memory lane:
1. So our boys were in the same 11/11 show, with Web hosting & performing — GG to perform. Oh, when can we see this again? One day....
2. Zhan ge rehearsing for his performance. He tinie. but not really.
3. Web decided to destroy us by performing bruno mars’ finesse. GG is seen looking at the screen and watching him. He’s there, waiting for his man to perform next.
4. 1:31-1:33 of this. GG smiles and shakes his head when MCs were talking about Web’s dance.
5. Tragedy strikes after Web’s performance as he stayed on stage trying to look for something. Some people initially thought he didn’t know where to exit or was looking for his cap. But he was actually trying to find where the mic is. He was supposed to introduce GG who going to sing next. Oh the look on his face from across the stage! Seeing GG but unable to do anything! 💀
BXG were waiting for this cause all throughout the fanmeets, It’s GG who always introduces Web. Now, it’s time for him to return the favor. It’s his homecourt, a Hunan TV event .This video shows the pain.
5. GG singing like an angel that he is.
6. The Zhan ge didi Ai ni lightboard that GG saw and smiled at. In the live broadcast we can all see it, but when they released the performance video it was cut off.
6. Soft moment that somehow saved the day is GG’s interview onstage after (3:10-4:12 of this.) Web is already seated with Wang Han and watching it all. Notable moment is that Web seem to be interacting with GG, using the same gestures he answers. Like, shopping for the one you love. transcript here.
7. Web talking to Wang Han, allegedly saying that he didn’t know about the change in introduction. (video to be added)
8. Web talking to Feng ge. he’s so giddy! @nondeducible provided the link for the lip reading on this.
9. Web looking at a fan with a Wangxiao band and smiling.
10. Fans say they smelled Chanel Bleu heavily on Web before he went and filmed this 11/11 show. It’s CPN that he wears this when he is about to see GG as GG loves the smell. It has hints of jasmine, that apparently, GG likes. So the Web peacock is born -
11. FAKE Rumor is after this recording, they went out to eat at a lobster restaurant. Shared by an employee, and that they stayed in a private room. Also, allegedly holding hands. They both had flights to go to but chose to spend time together.
12. THIS has more rumors on that broadcast and Web not having the mic.
EDITED : 11/13/2020 2:49 AM
#yizhan#bjyx#i know i missed pepe the frog#i should have slept for 2 hours before work but I made this#no regrets
222 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ch 199-
Okay so xie ge didn't go so he yu took yaya as a bait for xqc to come and have dinner with him 😂😂😂
Xqc obviously took the bait and came running over to come and save the little princess from the dragon which took her captive to find her sleeping peacefully.
I hoped he yu would take xqc to a fancy restaurant but he literally called him over to his mansion!
Awwwww he yu bonded with yaya over zootopia. He yu basically ran from his conference meeting to see xqc. Still a simp over xqc he's just hiding it
He yu rushed to his room to find xqc picking up yaya and he's instantly imagining xqc pregnant with his babies.
I can't believe he just stood there at the door to admire xqc's ass!! This chapter is so fun!
And then legit went feral at the thought of xqc pregnant with his babies!! xqc liked kids he yu was willing to get him pregnant with as many as he wanted.The breeding kink is back and it's stronger than ever!! I say this again but mb was 🤏close to making bab omegaverse.
All the food that contained their memories! This is trip down memory lane but with pain! 🥲🥲🥲
We'll have to wait a few chapters the misunderstanding was bigger than the rift of the grand canyon before and after 3 years it got worse. But the important thing is they love each other and will overcome the misunderstanding by the end of march hopefully 🥲
I'm having so much fun though! The misunderstanding will go away eventually! I just enjoy hexie moments no matter what kind they are.
Omg! It was indeed he yu who went through xqc's meds and his stuff. I bet that fever dream xqc had of He yu holding him was real just like the kiss dream xqc had at the hotel.
The mini theatre was everything. Yaya playing cupid for her uncles 🥺🥺
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
[CN] Victor’s Fencing Date (Eng Translation)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 击剑约会, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
Do note that this date features S2 Victor, but doesn’t contain S2 spoilers.
[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]
The date begins on a weekend, with MC at a fencing trial class. The coach just left her to do warm ups
MC signed up for the class because she developed a sudden interest in fencing after watching a competition on television
She notes how fencing involves agility, quick judgement calls, and maintaining a knightly demeanour
Elegant. Swift. A single, certain strike...
MC: I keep thinking it’s a little bit like Victor.
I mumble aloud accidentally before hastily returning to my senses.
This fencing hall is the most professional training hall open to the public in Loveland City. In the surroundings are adept students, and the coaches give oral commands mostly in French.
Although warm ups don’t require me to don the full attire, I carefully put on the face mask since I’m a newbie and somewhat at a loss.
After a while, someone walks over to me suddenly. He’s very tall, donned in full attire, and he stands before me.
Before I can react, he speaks.
??: Hello. Coach Lin asked me to come here.
My coach’s surname happens to be Lin as well, so I make a guess that perhaps this is his assistant for today. As such, I nod amicably in acknowledgement.
For some reason, I find this person’s aura slightly familiar...
??: Etes-vous prêts?
[Note] In French, this means “Are you ready?”
His voice is slightly muffled from the mask. I freeze for a moment before realising that he seems to be asking if I’m ready.
MC: Oui.
[Note] In French, this means “Yes.”
He nods, then returns to the starting line, raising his fencing sword and saluting to me.
I tilt my head to take a look, then mimic his pose to return the salute.
In the next second, he suddenly points the fencing sword towards me, and lunges over quickly.
MC: !
A silver light flashes before me. I instinctively retract my arm to cover my face, shifting backwards by a few steps.
One second. Two seconds. Three seconds... the feeling of being hit doesn’t come.
??: Beginner?
Hearing his voice, I slowly put down my hands, nodding awkwardly.
??: Sorry, I was mistaken.
His tone once again gives me a sense of familiarity. Before I get to ask, Coach Lin returns.
When he sees our swords facing each other, he’s stunned for a while, but quickly reveals a knowing expression.
MC: Coach...
Coach Lin smiles at me, then greets the person opposite in a friendly manner.
Coach Lin: Mr Victor, you’re here.
MC: ...Mr Victor?
Could this person be...
As though the both of us are seeking to verify something, we take off our masks at the same time.
My fringe rides up along with the mask. While I hurriedly smoothen it down, I look at the person before me.
That person’s hair has also been messed up. He casually lifts his hand to pat down the slightly curled up strands, revealing the pair of eyes I’m most familiar with.
MC: Victor!
Victor: It’s you?
Coach Lin: The two of you know each other?
Victor nods, turning to Coach Lin, who is standing at the side.
Seeing that both of us have no idea what to make of this matter, Coach Lin smiles apologetically, and starts to explain.
It turns out Victor is a regular visitor here, and has always been Coach Lin’s partner.
However, as he had to take charge of the trial class, Coach Lin had arranged for another coach for Victor, who Victor had mistaken me for.
Coach Lin: There, the coach should be at the second fencing lane.
Coach Lin identifies the coach to Victor, and I follow his line of sight. It’s a young female coach.
Victor: Got it.
Although Victor says this, he doesn’t seem to have any intention of leaving. Coach Lin looks at the both of us, slightly hesitant.
I clear my throat, breaking the silence.
MC: Coach Lin, the two of you have been partners for so long. Why don’t you duel with Victor? I could have a class with that coach instead. Anyway, I’m just a student from the trial class, so there’s no need to trouble so many people.
Coach Lin: Our rules prohibit having replacement classes at short notice. She doesn't have any classes scheduled today, so...
Coach Lin seems to be in a bind.
Victor: What if it isn’t a coach?
I freeze. Victor glances at me, speaking softly to Coach Lin.
After a moment of hesitation, Coach Lin finally smiles and nods.
Coach Lin: I’ll have to trouble you then.
Coach Lin nods in my direction, leaving soon after. Puzzled, I look at Victor.
MC: Why did the coach leave? What did you say to him?
Victor: I told him that this student is difficult to teach, so I’ll do it for him.
MC: You sure know how to manipulate...
MC: Wait. Who says that I’m difficult to teach!
Victor ignores my quibble, looking at me with his arms crossed.
Victor: Why did you think of learning fencing?
MC: I heard that fencing can train one’s reaction and judgement speed, so I wanted to give it a try.
Victor: You should train them. But these aren’t things that can be gleaned simply from sports.
MC: If you’re the teacher, I just might be able to glean them!
Victor: Looks like you have a large ambition this time.
I laugh while taking a step back, raising the fencing sword and giving him a serious salute.
MC: Is CEO Victor willing to impart his skills to me?
The corners of Victor’s lips curl as well, and a familiar phrase drifts to my ear.
Victor: It depends on how you perform.
-
Victor teaches MC some foundational moves using a dummy model
MC notes how Victor makes movements look casual even though they are very tiring
I take a breath, recalling his earlier demonstration, lunging forward in a large step.
Although my feet are slightly unsteady, the fencing sword hits the dummy model.
MC: I did it!
I turn to him happily, and happen to catch a sliver of a smile on his face which disappears in the next second.
Victor: When you strike with the sword, don’t move your wrist.
MC: ...okay.
I secretly purse my lips, and a soft laugh floats to my ear.
Victor: You weren’t bad just now. Do it again on your own three more times.
His “teaching” style and the one in my memory are exactly the same. There aren’t many pointers, but they always hit the nail on the head.
I follow his instructions obediently, the sword and the dummy’s metal attire meeting with clanging sounds.
The repeated movements are a little boring, so I try engaging Victor in a conversation while he supervises me from the side.
MC: Victor, Coach Lin mentioned that you’re a regular visitor. Have you been practicing for long?
Victor: I guess so. When I have time, I’ll come by once every week.
MC: No wonder you’re so professional.
Victor: It’s just a pastime, so it doesn’t count as being professional. Although when it comes to teaching you, it’s something I’ve done more than enough times.
I meet his teasing gaze, and stop my actions in defiance.
MC: Don’t underestimate me too much. Who knows, I might have "peculiar bones”, and might discover your weak points!
[Note] I translated “unique skeleton” from 骨骼清奇 (“gu ge qing qi”), which is part of a quote from an action-comedy movie called Kung Fu Hustle. The full quote is: “I think your bones are peculiar. You are a martial arts prodigy.”
Victor: Looks like you’re very confident now. I wonder how you’ll fare in the next test.
Victor walks across the middle line, puts on his mask, then lifts his sword.
Victor: If you want to find my weak spots, try scoring some points from me. Once you’re ready, we’ll begin.
I gulp, slightly nervous. But this time, Victor doesn’t advance for a long time. He simply waits at the other end.
Perhaps due to my reaction being overly exaggerated when faced with his attack earlier, he is exceptionally patient this time.
As a “student” who was carefully taught by him, I’m determined not to disappoint him.
I take aim at potential areas of attack, then lunge forward, crossing the middle line.
As though wanting to exert more pressure on me, he takes a few steps forward.
The few seconds seem to become infinitely long as the distance lessens, causing his smooth movements to slow down.
He bends his arm, ready to strike. In the moment before he straightens his arm, I act first, lunging towards his elbow.
MC: I hit it!
Victor: Very good. Continue.
After experiencing it once, Victor no longer waits at his original spot to wait for me.
He doesn’t take large strides, but still easily blocks my way, and I have no choice but to pull back.
Guessing that I’d be stepping out of the boundary if I keep retreating, I grit my teeth, taking a few frantic steps towards him.
Victor seems to freeze for a moment, but very quickly shifts backwards to avoid my threat.
Victor: You’re very bold in taking risks.
MC: Haha, it’s more like sinking my own boat...
Victor: In that case, don’t waste this opportunity.
I try to settle myself, my vision gradually becoming clearer with our ever increasing proximity.
Victor maintains a defensive posture as he faces me, but his abdomen area below his arm doesn’t seem to be guarded.
Perhaps this was a weak spot he specially left open for me, and I just happened to notice it.
But a faraway memory suddenly surfaces in my mind, resulting in a headache. Although I know that it’s unrelated to the current situation, it leaves me halting in my footsteps.
Victor: What are you hesitating about?
Victor suddenly speaks up. Startled, it’s as though I’m jolted from a dream.
The distance between us has closed. Based on a conditioned reflex, I instantly step backwards, but am too late.
With a slight tap on my chest, a tiny hollow appears on the fabric.
Victor: You lost.
I lift my head, and can vaguely make out his brilliant gaze from the holes in the mask.
He moves the sword away very quickly, but my heart beat doesn’t calm down.
Several emotions are blending together. Together with the echo left in my heart from the hit, I’m left frozen to the spot for a very long time.
Seeing that I’m not speaking, Victor removes his mask, bending over to observe my expression.
Victor: What’s wrong?
MC: ...nothing. My mind accidentally wandered off earlier.
Victor: There’s no need to be too apprehensive. You’re just following the rules.
I nod. Victor hesitates for a moment, then pats the top of my head, which is separated by the mask.
Victor: You need to be more resolute. Opportunities and risks co-exist. Don’t let it slip away to your opponent.
His tone becomes more gentle. His dark coloured eyes reflect my profile.
Even when he’s consoling people, he remains deadpan. But precisely because of this, his consolation is all the more effective.
I adjust the mask, pumping myself up again.
MC: I’ve got it. Could Teacher Victor give me another chance?
Victor laughs, putting on his mask again.
Victor: Just this once.
He gives her some advice and she tries it out, poking his outfit with the sword timidly
MC: Like this?
Just as I’m about to ask if I’m doing it correctly, I lift my head to find that we are standing very close to each other.
The soft laugh and slightly lilted tone initially hidden behind the mask finally drift to my ear clearly.
Victor: This time, I’ll consider it as you scoring the point.
-
The class experience is over. While I’m wiping my sweat with a towel, Coach Lin walks over.
Coach Lin: Are the two of you taking a break?
Victor nods. He receives the bottles of water from Coach Lin, then hands me one.
Coach Lin: Thank you for your help today, Mr Victor. Shall we have a match before you leave?
Victor turns to me, giving me a look over.
Victor: I won’t trouble you today. We’ll leave it till next time. A certain student is too physically weak, so she has to return early to rest.
I frantically tuck strands of sweat drenched hair behind my ear.
MC: It’s just that the masks made it a little warm earlier. I’ll be fine after resting at the side for a while. It must have been slightly boring having to teach me all this time. Have a good duel - I can observe and learn from your example.
Victor stares at me for another moment. He sighs lightly, then hands me the bottle of water in his hand.
Victor: Since you want to learn, watch carefully. Your mind isn’t allowed to wander.
The duel commences
MC never takes her eyes off him
Elegant. Swift. A single, certain strike...
This sport really suits him.
The spectating students comment on the match
As compared to the Victor who accompanied me to practice, the him before my eyes seems to have become a completely different person.
Although the mask and attire serve to conceal his features...
I can still sense the strength underneath the wrinkles of his fabric, and the pressure exerted when he made his quick assault.
So this is what a true confrontation looks like.
If he were to have free rein in his assault, he wouldn’t lose at all.
The scoreboard buzzes again. Victor and Coach Lin look at it, then shake hands.
After the two men part from the middle line, I finally look at the scores.
MC: He won!
Although he won by only a few points, the spectators and I can't help but applaud.
Cheers resound. Victor removes his mask, walking straight towards me.
Drops of sweat glide off the side of his face, the tips of his hair sticking onto his forehead.
At this moment, the eyes that are always cold and restrained have become illuminated by the lights. They radiate with an impressive light.
When I gaze at him, I can’t help but laugh even more happily.
Victor: What’s with your foolish laughter?
MC: Because you’ve won!
Victor: I recall you mentioning that you’d be observing and and learning from example. What did you learn?
I’m rendered speechless. From a technique point of view, I didn’t observe any tricks...
MC: At least I could tell that this match was very exciting. It makes one...
Want to cheer for you.
I don’t say the second half of the sentence aloud. But from the smile in Victor’s eyes, I know he definitely understands what I mean.
He takes the bottle of water in my hands naturally, and I take the sword in his.
Amid the clamour in our surroundings, his deliberately lowered voice drifts to my ears.
Victor: Being able to understand the match - to you, it’s not an easy feat. But, thank you.
After changing out of our attire, Victor and I head to the front counter to return the equipment.
He converses with the staff in a familiar manner, while my mind keeps returning to the earlier match.
I rarely see such a nimble and driven Victor. But that profile overlaps with several moments in my memory.
When he rejected my application for an investment. When he kicked open the door when I was trapped in the darkness. When he calmly held onto my hand when faced with difficulties...
He has never changed. No matter what identity he takes on, he’s competent in all of them.
No matter what, he seems to always be running ahead of me.
At this moment, the staff returns our cash deposit, and Victor hands me my bag.
Victor: What are you thinking about?
I turn to look at him.
MC: I always feel like as long as you put your mind to it, there doesn’t seem to be anything that can defeat you.
Victor: Not necessarily. Didn’t you “defeat” me just now?
MC: That’s only because you lost intentionally...
Victor: I won’t lose intentionally to any opponents. I just made some adjustments according to your standard.
MC: ...does this mean I still have some hidden potential? In that case, could Teacher Victor continue teaching me?
Victor: There is no such thing as a free lunch.
I think deeply on what I could offer as remuneration.
MC: If I manage to learn it properly, I can help you “attack” next time, and shoulder more burdens for you.
Victor glances at me with surprise, but he quickly smoothens his expression.
Victor: If you want to share burdens with me, this meagre effort won’t suffice.
MC: ?
Victor arches his brows.
Victor: Or were you just full of hot air earlier?
I look into his eyes. As though wanting to prove something, I straighten my back.
MC: Of course it’s not just hot air. I’ll come here to practice often. Someday, I’ll be like Coach Lin, becoming your genuine opponent. Maybe I’ll triumph over you even when you don’t lose intentionally.
Victor glances at me, the corners of his lips lifting upwards.
Victor: This declaration - I’ll remember it. I’ll wait for you to surpass me.
We walk towards the entrance of the hall together, the sunlight outside encasing us.
Time seems to slow down, enabling me to distinctly remember how it feels like to walk next to him.
We still have countless tomorrows, allowing me to tread in his shadow, step by step, returning to his side.
138 notes
·
View notes
Text
Honey Evers 💛
(Her hair is so fun to draw >W<)
#gacha every art#honey evers#ge memory lane#sketch#sketches#oc#original character#gacha oc#oc art#gacha art#gacha club#gacha every art dump#gacha every
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
they call him frustrated not frigid (watch?v=PXtOV7Mqjaw). his female friends have openly said he's not interested in girls (/watch?v=fLMtURxjO0w) or "seems" like he's not interested in girls. also most of his drama coworkers have clearly said he talks alot more to "men" (/watch?v=5r4P4R3TL9E). i do believe he isnt hiding his sexuality at all and very open abt being gay, its not as if he is the first chinese actor/celeb to be open while not talking abt being gay openly either.
This is in reference to a previous post. Fake, fan fiction, totally invented stories here, guys.
Totally agreed. Here are the videos Anon mentioned (and these are some of my favorite bits, very worth sharing):
youtube
I love how Yibo is trying to make it clear his libido is intact without creating a scandal. LOL
The next one talks about his not seeming interested in girls (that part starts at 3:45) but the entire episode is must-watch).
youtube
To be fair, though, it seemed he was more concerned about seeming promiscuous or like a lech than being disinterested in girls. Although there’s no planet on which I imagine him turning photos of Zhan-ge face-down, even if it led to scandal among fans.
This next bit is a hugely telling moment. The guy just about spits out his coffee. I mean, what more do you need to know?
youtube
Thanks, Anon. Nice trip down memory lane! I agree - Yibo doesn’t really appear to be trying to hide the fact that he’s gay. It’s pretty obvious.
126 notes
·
View notes
Text
.......
..........
Did you really think I'd forget?
Did you REALLY thought I would forget?!?!?
Heck no!
Incorrect Quotes Time Baby!!!!( I don't know what part this is!!!)
Alexis: We’ll find another route, it’s not safe for amateur adventurers.
Elliot: That sounds like a challenge.
Alexis: I have to stress, that is not a challenge.
Elliot: ...Is exactly what you say to dissuade the weak of heart from accepting the challenge. Well, challenge accepted!
Alexis: There is no challenge!
-----------
*Elliot sends more than 5 messages in a row*
Alexis: I ain’t reading all that.
Alexis: I’m happy for you tho.
Alexis: Or sorry that happened.
-----------
Danica: Kenji, no.
Kenji: Kenji, yes.
( this could honestly go both ways, they're both VERY chaotic)
-----------------
Kenji: Uptown Funk would've made it into the Shrek Soundtrack.
Danica: That's the truest statement I've ever heard.
----------
Cheren: You’re charged with…..breaking into a pet store?
N: I thought the animals might be lonely.
-------------
Jin: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?
Jude: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.
--------------
Eva: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?
Alexis: Are you calling me short?
Eva: I'm calling you vertically challenged
---------------
Jude: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me.
Jin: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!
-----------------
Aster : I can't believe you've done this.....
Naomi: I'm sorry I didn't know-!
Aster, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HUGE ASSHOLE!
-------------
Naomi : I have a problem.
Aster: Kill it.
Naomi : Can you chill for like, two seconds?
----------------
Danica: I think you're still suffering the effects of your party last night.
Eva : All I drank was Redbull!
Danica: How many?
Eva : Eighteen.
----------------
Danica: I want a trip down memory lane.
Eva : *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in Danica's lap*
Eva : I heard you needed these?
Danica: YES! ALL OF THEM!
-----------------
Alexis : I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.
Leon: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.
Alexis : O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??
Leon: Is it working?
---------------
Alexis : Is something burning?
Leon, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you.
Alexis : Leon, the toaster is literally on fire.
--------------
Wayne: Hey, Eva, are you free on Friday? Like around eight?
Eva: Yeah.
Wayne: And you, Hugh?
Hugh: Umm... yes?
Wayne: Great! Because I'm not. You two go out without me. Enjoy your date!
Hugh: Did they just-
--------------
Eva: Did Hugh just tell me he loved me for the first time?
Wayne: Yeah, ge did.
Eva: And did I just do finger guns back?
Wayne: Yeah, you did.
( I know it seems that Wayne is the third wheel here, but he's part of the relationship just not at the moment)
------------
Silver: I love you.
Kenji, not paying attention: What was that?
Silver: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-
------------
Silver: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.
Kenji: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.
Silver: But you’re always acting stupid?
Kenji: ...
Kenji: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.
---------------
Me, talking to the ship of Leon and Alexis: I should've left you on that street corner where you were standing.
Them: But ya' didn't!
#pokemon oc#oc incorrect quotes#pokemon oc incorrect quotes#i added some shipping things if you don't mind :)
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Street
How does the street speak and what does it say?
I started looking at the street because I had been looking at schools and childhood and discovered a subsection of human geography; children’s geographies, the study of the spaces and places of children. From there I began looking at children’s street culture, in particular the act of play on the street. In looking at collection I began to think about collections of objects in public spaces, in particular somewhat ephemeral collections that go undocumented.
What is the value of the street? How can we capitalise on this value by transforming or celebrating our treatment of the street? How has this piece of infrastructure formed how we behave in an urban environment? This is a space where we meet each other, greet each other, pass each other indifferently or protest together. Arguably our most important urban spaces; where we encounter others the most.
The narrative of the street is not as straightforward as destruction over preservation - it’s really much more organic than that and informed by the people who walk the streets. Look at what the street has already done for us in order to explore what we can do for it?
Starting points;
The street as a subdivision of space - I have been looking at smaller spaces within larger spaces for several recent briefs ;I created a matchbox container park whilst mapping Rankin Inlet and interrogated cabinets during the Legs brief. The street is a cabinet of space within a city - containing the fundamentals of that particular street. I think it would be interesting to think of the street as a drawer containing objects specific to its “category” and collect typologies of streets - what constitutes a neighbourhood street, a high street, the street market, what do we expect to see on these streets and what do we not expect to see? Also what ultimately forms a street? Yes tarmac is poured to create space for cars but do rows of buildings or a path frequently walked but unmarked precede this? Is there in fact a system of organisation where we might not immediately identify one? Can you decide what is the highstreetiest high street (Mostest) by way of comparison plus interrogation of key features? Art as a means of containing large scale of thought and of the physical realm into a small space.
Physical Education - Andrew Cranston. Inner scale - how much can a small space contain if the objects within it have a lot of symbolic value? “small paintings can be describing large or even vast space.” Child’s distortion of scale.
Can a cabinet be a street in a city?
Matchbox museum - Rankin Inlet
Examples of street typologies/ street “furniture” typologies
Street Furniture - interrogating objects specific to that typology of street. I found street furniture; what could be seen on the street and the treatment of these objects to be a key insight into the small community of Rankin Inlet. The necessity for above ground sewage pipes communicated adaptation to the harsh climate, the shipping containers evidenced their lack of subsistence and the abandoned mine structures tagged with “we got left behind” communicated their emotional relationship to being a post industrial society. (https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/33556794.pdf paper on mining in Rankin Inlet references “memoryscapes” the industrial ruins provide resources for place identity and community memories: the role of memory in “articulating the relationship between community and landscape, or between landscape and an individual.”)
Children’s street culture - I am interested in looking at the games children play communally on the street (mostly pre - introduction of cars.) How does the street as a structure inform urban children’s play? I find this particularly fascinating because often games are merely words and movements and rules born of the mind and acted out momentarily. What of these has survived and why? How valuable are these games to the developing child? What are the remnants of play on the streets? What objects are borrowed from the environment, which ones are additions to the environment? Which ones can only be used in the urban environment? I.e a game of marbles can only be played on a hard surface.
Archives:
https://www.opiearchive.org/ (games/ street culture are largely documented in personal archives/ initiatives)
From the Opie collection:
Dan Jones:
https://spitalfieldslife.com/2020/09/21/chris-kelly-dan-jones-in-the-playground-x/
https://spitalfieldslife.com/2010/04/17/dan-jones-rhyme-collector/
Dan’s painting of Christ Church School, Brick Lane in 1982, as reproduced in “Inky, Pinky, Ponky”, a book of playground rhymes.
Chris Kelly - photographs of East London schools
https://www.londonplay.org.uk/content/29934/our_work/recent_work/play_streets/the_history_of_play_streets
Sound and Film:
https://belfastfilmfestival.org/films/dusty-bluebells
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/topics/Children%27s_street_culture (time to listen to children’s street culture)
https://movingimage.nls.uk/film/0799
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBCJhNiKhFE
Where do the Children Play? Animated music video
In and Out the Dusty Bluebells - Children’s street games performed by the pupils of St Mary’s Primary School Belfast. (film still)
Whilst looking at alphabetisation for The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread I explored language, in particular the categorisation and organisation of language, as a means of encouraging division and exerting power. I looked at the Tower of Babel and how the creation of cities and “scattering of people across the earth” is in religious text attributed to the introduction of different languages, leading people to seek separate spaces to live due to a loss of understanding and empathy.
The language and lore of children’s games are a means of construction, imaginary and physical, and categorisation as a response to the world (street) around them. To create rules that others follow based on spaces around you and use spaces around you to implement them.
(Control of the child - children are forced off the streets for means of protection?, categorisation of childhood as a stage of life.)
Tower of Babel is a city in the sky (link to Robinhood Gardens streets in the sky) - aspirational building, overcoming social oppression.
https://jhna.org/articles/come-let-us-make-a-city-and-a-tower-pieter-bruegel-the-elder-tower-of-babel-creation-harmonious-community-antwerp/ (particular painting of Tower of Babel being created in tandem with the unification and urbanisation of a community in Antwerp)
Documentation of the street Mapping is of course fundamental to understanding the street but I think it would be interesting to look at and create maps of lesser documented aspects of the street (smaller movements.)
During my project on Rankin Inlet I “mapped” the route that number 1 would have to take to visit number 8, so few were the residents.
I mapped my mum explaining how she curated her display cabinet during my cabinets project through collage and language/ typography. Mapping children’s lore is a means of documenting their way of organising and categorising the world. I.e. mapping the movements of children playing games in films - how do they use the space of the street and how does it inform the structure of their games, the words they use?
Often in films you have a cut to children playing on a street - a familiar sight.
(in Das Leben Der Anderen the Lives of Others) we see the main character play with children on a street, a light and playful scene which contrasts the darker tones and nature of the other scenes- the street is where we encounter the lives of others.)
I have been documenting streets for quite a few years myself and have a large personal archive of street photography on my phone. What is discarded in these spaces vs what is deliberately placed in them? Patterns which can be identified and organised through photography.
Photography is a key source as the street is incredibly ephemeral and in constant flux. I think streets are largely documented through a very personal lense, a particular street walked by a particular person on a particular day or that is of significance to them. Or the streets which happened to be around at the time of the making of a film.
Street photographers - Roger Mayne in particular focused on children on the streets of London
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/jun/13/roger-mayne
http://www.massobs.org.uk/ The Mass Observation archive - initiative to observe and record everyday British life
Exhausting a street?
Street and childhood - both defined by personal experiences of them/ personal methods of documentation - therefore personal accounts are fundamental to look at.
“Childhood is an interesting zone, an interior space,” (street as a space, stage of life as a space) - other accounts of childhood experiences and games will exist in peoples personal biographies and memoirs
i.e the personal accounts of Andrew Cranston and Stevie Smith below
The street as a space to protest as well as communicate pride in the place/space you feel you belong to/ feel belongs to you (taking to the streets). The desire to create an environment is perhaps more present in children, whilst the desire to control and order an existing environment is more manifest in adults. Patriotism and nationalism. The post colonial era, British people wanting who they feel does not belong on their streets off their streets - this is solely based on visual assessment of individuals . Streets as a territorial space, our streets (tags.)
The street can be a space to be brutally honest about what isn’t working, your audience is unbounded.
https://www.huckmag.com/art-and-culture/art-2/meet-chicago-artist-running-protest-banner-library/
https://www.independentcinemaoffice.org.uk/films/britain-on-film-protest/
stills:
International comparison - During A levels I looked at whether or not Germany is actually as organised as everyone says it is. In particular the Ordnungsamt in Germany - essentially the Order Police and whether or not the stereotypes surrounding this nationality are present in the furniture, format and treatment of the street. The Ordnungsamt might call someone out for not having their door number at the right height. I think looking at a contrasting culture and making comparison is very important to fully understanding behaviour on the street and how it is informed by the visual language and structure of the street. I have also extensively documented the streets of Berlin through photography. Is order more inherent in the German street? How can we tell? Is it in how people behave in the street or how the street itself is structured or does one inform the other? German proverbs “Ordnung muss sein” There must be order.
https://www.goethe.de/ins/pl/de/kul/mag/22109580.html (is there really order in Germany?)
https://www.easygerman.org/podcast/episodes/3 (podcast on order in Germany)
Streets in the sky - social housing utopia - I briefly explored the RobinHood Gardens estate for IB Art in connection with the idea of glamorising childhood. What did the concept of streets in the sky refer to? It sounds so magical but also kind of dangerous and ultimately it fell apart. This is an estate I have also extensively documented through photography, particularly as it was about to be pulled down.
Stills from film Streets in the sky documenting the structure of Robinhood Gardens Estate https://filmfreeway.com/452396
There are extensive articles/ essays discussing the failure of this architectural initiative with many making references to propaganda for this (failed) utopian future ^^^
https://www.architectural-review.com/archive/notopia-archive/notopia-the-fall-of-streets-in-the-sky
Walking_on_streets-in-the-sky_structures_for_democ.pdf
https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/gallery/2016/oct/22/lived-brutalism-portraits-from-robin-hood-gardens-housing-estate-in-pictures (looks at individuals who lived in the estates)
Conveying layers of past in space - links to Eastside Projects - layers of Birmingham https://eastsideprojects.org/about/users-manual/
The New York High Line is a Street in the sky. The redevelopment of obselete infrastructure as public space. (links to idea of Landscape Urbanism. The imaginary)
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
PICs 4 U🙆
(old&new)
Trip down memory lane as we celebrate Lee Jong Suk's 13th Debut Anniversary.
MODELING ERA
Look: Lee Jong Suk in chan+ge 2010 S/S Seoul Fashion Week
Trivia: At the age of 15, Lee Jong Suk began his modelling career at the Seoul Collection walkway in 2005, making him the youngest male model to debut in the Seoul Collection program at Seoul Fashion Week. Since then, he has walked in a number of fashion shows.
Repost from eri's holiday blog
Thank you for sharing🙏
My @jongsuk0206 #LeeJongSuk is life.
@MyLeeJongSuk2 (our Twitter)
#이종석 #李鍾碩 #李钟硕
#อีจงซอก #イジョンソク
#Decibel #BigMouth
Reposting 26 March 2023
1 note
·
View note
Text
winding moonrise - hike through memory lane
master post
[Context: This occurs after interlude (aka the Lan juniors go from hiding their junk food to earnestly defending LWJ in their hearts) and is in the present timeline.]
The woods surrounding the Lan residence are dense, thick growth. The paths drawn on it arise from the natural patterns of moving animals (aside from the few needed to upkeep their only human facade). So as the sun acrosses the sky, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian's journey is a brisk hike through towering trees and healthy undergrowth.
Despite the nonstop marching, neither of the men break a sweat. Imagining how nice and cool Lan Wangji's touch must be, Wei Wuxian's palms itch. His dark clothes are helpful for hiding blood stains and blending into the night but when it comes to this though his skin does not enjoy the oppressive heat condensed by the black covering the majority of it. Wei Wuxian thinks to himself that Lan Wangji's cold aura probably turns the air near him refreshing light. Glancing over, he wonders aloud, "How does your family get around? I'm pretty athletic and this a little rough. It'll take at least another two or three hours to get off your land."
"We have cars. The roads here aren't fit for them," he says, raising a brow pointedly.
"Right, werewolves." Snapping his fingers, Wei Wuxian nods. "Oh. This must be annoying. Human walking speed."
Lan Wangji angles his head. Frustration never crosses his mind. He still basks in the familiarity of walking side-by-side with his dearest person, especially in the comfort that this is neither a memory nor a dream (the kind anyone else would call a nightmare because it pierces each time him with the reality that he will never again hear his moon's laughter, smell the vibrant lake breeze, feel his playful touch).
Lan Wangji swallows a lump.
He bathes in the easy company, in the embrace of Wei Wuxian's endless commentary, and in the slight brush of shoulders that tells him that Wei Wuxian is solid. They could meander for hours upon hours and he could have no complaint.
A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminds him this is temporary. That this action promises no future. Even factoring out his obligations, this moment can be savored, etched into his bones, and treasured but it not extend into eternity. His moon will never love a canine and so their paths will always divert.
Still, he says, by way of explanation, "Unnecessary transformation is prohibited."
"But," Wei Wuxian furrows his brow. Half of him understands the need for restrictions, but the other hand feels like he would die in the Lan pack. He vaguely recalls Nie Huaisang bragging about his da-ge's impressive form and general strength in the middle of campus in broad daylight. "You don't need to change to use speed or strength or ..."
He gestures vaguely to fill in the gaps. "If you weren't burdened by me, you'd be up in the mountains already, sniffing for clues."
A light bulb goes off. He grins, "You carried me before you can carry me again."
He peers at Lan Wangji's stoic face. He awaits the reaction. His fingers brush a qinggong talisman, readying his wrist to flick it out. He grins, thinking all the times Lan Wangji's jumped, glared, or otherwise displayed the affronted reaction of a sheltered boy being scandalized for the first time.
"Mnn."
Lan Wangji kneels in front of a bewildered Wei Wuxian.
"When could you take a joke?" he gasps, staring at the broad back in front of him. "No-"
Lan Wangji lifts him. His actions come so jerky and abrupt that Wei Wuxian has no choice but to cling to sturdy shoulders. The world blurs around him. Wei Wuxian tenses.
His protest dies.
His memory stirs. His mind overlaps events with the elegant back in front of him. It plays simultaneously:
He faintly feels the rough leather of his father's jacket. His tiny fingers dug into short hair. A blurred figure, who must be his father, carried him on stable shoulders.
An indistinct road stretches out in front of them. Wei Ying giggled as his father grabbed his hands and lifted him. He is delivered into his mother's lap. Her laughter vibrated through him and his father chuckles from above. The reins of mule he and his mother sat on laid in his father's grasp.
The wind carries away his heat, feeding the summoned memories.
A chill seeped into his bare feet. He pulled on his ratty shirt. It barely covered his front.
A kind voice called him.
Wei Ying pointed to his chest, vaguely recalling shape of his name.
"Do you want to go home with uncle?" the man kneeled.
"Is it away from dogs?"
The kind man frowned, causing Wei Ying to question if he asked for too much. He nodded, centimeter by centimeter as if it pained him.
Wei Ying found himself high above the street where fierce fangs wouldn't steal his food. The clean and rich texture of Jiang Fengmian's robe engraved in his heart.
His mind whirls. His senses narrow to the warmth under his hands.
Wei Ying's trembled on Jiang Yanli's delicate back. His scrapes stung and watered his eyes, but he swallowed his complaints with a quivering lip.
She promised forgiveness and food and family. Things he later knew she could not guarrante but his da-jie was no more than twelve or thirteen as she trekked through the night. She called him "didi" and sighed "A-Cheng" when she had to pull her other brother from a ditch.
She carried Wei Ying and held Jiang Cheng's hand. He forgot how his palms stung from splinters and recalled only her warmth.That infused with the gentle sensation that spread through his veins with the soup she made.
The taste of laughter lingers in his mouth. His mind conjures.
Wei Ying wailed. His shoulders screamed. Bands of heat radiate from his back.
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. "Stop shouting or I'll drop you.
He clung tighter to Jiang Cheng. His feet skimmed the wood panels. The two preteens teethered precariously. The difference in their heights was only a handful of centimeters but the proportions were not equal. Even at that age, his legs outpaced the rest of him only defeated by the rate he could chatter.
"How could Lan-laoshi be so cruel?" he whined, pressing his face into his wrist pitifully.
Furrowing his brow, Jiang Chen hefted him higher. "You're lucky he didn't call father."
"A-Cheng, whose side are you on?"
He glared. "If you don't shut up, I'll break your legs."
"Try it." He pulled tigher becoming a second skin. "Let's see who suffers first."
One boy scoffed and the other chuckled.
Jiang Cheng's back was not huge or fitter than Wei Ying's (especially at that age) but it was reliable enough to climb when a dog was near or to lean on when he caused too much mischief.
Wei Wuxian doesn't know when it shifted, when others no longer picked him up, when it became his duty to carry others. He has no complaints. All these associations bloom in a second, living in a few heartbeats like flowers in a dessert. A short life that captures his senses.
He freezes atop Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji questions what possessed him. His heart thunders, carrying his moon. The transfusion of heat is a blessing. In equal measure, it is a curse. He will pay the price for how much he will yearn for it when it is gone.
Wei Wuxian's breath brushes his cheek. His face burns. A slight turn and their cheeks would kiss. A touch more and he could devour Wei Wuxian's mouth.
Clenching his jaw, he locks his neck. He picks up pace. He thinks, Regulate yourself.
He inhales.
The vibrant and enrich earth of his pack lands fill his lungs along with the refreshing, clean, and salty scent of Wei Wuxian. They mingle to form a lake nestled deep in the mountains. If anyone asked Lan Wangji how he imagined heavens smelled he would describe this: his moon's scent intertwined in the memory of his home.
That breath seizes his heart rather than calms him. Even with that pinch of ash and incense, he wants it bottled in his lungs.
He picks up pace. Twigs crunch. He would love to indulge in more of this, but he has no right to hoard Wei Wuxian's warmth or touch or scent. He picks up pace.
The wind whips through his hair, bringing Wei Wuxian to himself. The momentum threatens to drag him off. Huddling down, all Wei Wuxian can do is spit out hair. His fringe razes his vision; he inquires the heavens how even as his hair becomes a bird's nest Lan Wangji appears like a portrait.
His hair sweeps back artistically as if arranged by the air spirits to frame his phoenix eyes and high cheek bones. Wei Wuxian has to squint yet Lan Wangji lowered lids show off how his eyelashs seem painted on with a fine brush. He wonders, What merits did Lan Zhan achieve in his past life to be blessed with such beauty? Too bad he always looks so somber.
*
Lan Wangji stops several meters from the cave opening. He releases Wei Wuxian. The lack of warmth and pressure burdens his heart. He smooths out nonexistent wrinkles.
Wei Wuxian whistles a hauntingly sweet tune.
The hairs on Lan Wangji's neck rise. Werewolves are not attuned to magic as many paranatural beings are, but his keen senses translate the increase in yin energy as wrongness in the atmosphere.
A pale figure emerges from the opening.
"Wei-gongzi," a hestiant voice calls out, pausing. He stammers, "Lan er-gongzi?"
Lan Wangji stares at the ghost in broad daylight.
"Wen Qionglin."
He recognizes Wen Ning immediately as he would Nie Huaisang or Jiang Cheng or any other dormmate of Wei Wuxian's. Though the quiet man never entered Wei Wuxian's inner circle of friends or had many friends, Lan Wangji memorized anyone who held his moon's attention. (The aggressive Wens repelled everyone except other bullies and even if Wen Ning did not fit within his own family he had no place outside of it.)
Wen Ning hovers. His clothes discolored and tattered from a terrible accident. His throat shows trailing gnashes sealed up like scars. He would be frightening if he weren't peering at Lan Wangji with confusion and curiosity.
"Good! The two of you recognize each other. We don't have to go through plesantaries." Wei Wuxian rattles off. "Wen Ning, how's our captive doing?"
An outstretched arm blocks Wei Wuxian's path forward.
"Wei Ying."
Rubbing his neck, Wei Wuxian says, "Long story."
"Are you a necromancer?"
He pauses. Terms never bothered Wei Wuxian. He never understood people who harped on the differences between wizards, mages, and magus. All that mattered was the message it relayed: someone who can cast magic. He nods.
Lan Wangji blinks. Digesting that his moon falls under the most wretched, immoral, and accursed of casters, he can't swallow it. Certainly Wei Wuxian commands the dead, he witnessed it. Yet the definition of a necromancer as a being of evil and rotten ethics did not match Wei Wuxian in the slightest. He whispers, "Why?"
"Lan Zhan." His mouth curves but the smile does not reach his eyes. He, himself, does not notice the bitterness on his tongue. The little joy he gained from being accepted and treated kindly slips from his heart like grains of sand in an hourglass. "You're mistaken. I am not the kind of necromancer you're think of. Maybe in a world where digging up corpses wasn't so difficult I might have gone down that path. But I'm more of a spirit summoner."
"Of course my hands aren't clean. But I don't twist spirits to my will either," he laughs as screams and curses ring in his ears. "I don't need to. A vengeful spirit doesn't need much encouragment to cause harm."
Wei Ying, he thinks, overturns my world again.
Lan Wangji locks in place with desire to hide Wei Wuxian away from the world and guide him back to righteous path. That battles with the directive to never cause his moon distress. The heady cocktail of emotions spewing from Wei Wuxian like molten rock state that he has failed.
The pack prohibits infringing on another person, including their scent. A person has a right to privacy. And unlike what the movies make it out to be, emotions are not aromas beyond a handful such as fear and hatred. Is a scent like a forest? Or did you take pine, moist soil, and fresh water to be a forest rather than a park? The intensity of Wei Wuxian's emotions spit his pheromones everywhere.
His wolf whimpers to soothe their mate. His wolf urges bring Wei Wuxian to their den. His wolf screams defend their moon.
Lan Wangji learned from young that first instincts are often wrong. That he should follow protocol. In case that would be to cease all contact with the hated necromancer and report to the pack.
He frowns. He's essence protests, picturing how he might not even have another hour with his moon. Digging his nails into his palms, he emotionally trembles between the multiple conflicting truths he holds.
"I'm sorry," Wei Wuxian says kindly, "I should have mentioned it earlier. Thank you for the meal. If you disagree with my methods, after this, we can each go our own way with no hard feelings.
Lan Wangji snaps back to himself. His palm itches to cover Wei Wuxian's mouth. He hates those words. If he could ban them from being spoken he would. He doesn't need or want Wei Wuxian's apologies or gratitude. All he wants is to have the honor of revolting around his moon.
He inhales. The spectral chill stings his nostrils along with the telling hint of incense. His instincts state that Wen Ning is not merely a wandering spirit.
He skims Wei Wuxian's folded arms and tense shoulders. He bites his cheek.
It was Wei Wuxian who taught him that the teachings that guarranted his pack's survival should also be questioned. It was always Wei Wuxian who challenged him:
"If the families of a serial killer's 30 victims joined together and killed him, should they be guilty of murder?"
"They are guilty," Lan Wangji said, lengthening his stride to escape the bundle of emotions teeming in his chest.
"Ah," he hummed, tapping his chin. Wei Wuxian had a few centimeters on Lan Wangji so he matched the change easily.
Licking seam of his mouth, he tried his hardest not to follow the finger up to Wei Wuxian's pursed lips."I said should they be guilty."
"They committed the crime. They are guilty," he says, matter-of-fact. "The suspect should have been turned over."
"What if the suspect was arrested and released." He punctuated his statements with his finger. "But he objective killed those families' sons and daughters?"
Pushing down the urge to nip that finger, Lan Wangji stated, "That is unjust."
"It happens. Like when the killer is the son of an untouchable politician." He shrugged.
"The courts should be investigated."
"Let's put aside the ethics of the corruptible organizations," he debated. "But does that circumstance change whether or not the families should be guilty? Because if it does,..."
Lan Wangji does not remember how that conversation ended. In all likelihood, he stormed off because he was so overwhelmed by Wei Wuxian's presence and muddled by his words, that he could not stay there.
It resurfaced in his mind as the details of the Jiang arson were released. It was quite clear who set off the fires, the Wen clan snubs subtlety. Yet the case was deemed unsolveable. He did not fault the police for not understanding magic but clearly several Wens died in the fire and the animity between the two clans was quite clear.
He never considered that inquiry more than a hypothetical. Now in that situation, while he could not call himself family or take vengence, when the Wens died under mysterious circumstances, he understood those imagined people's motive.
He didn't relish their deaths nor did he approve of the slaughter of the young and old. Even if his reasoning was shaken, he trusted the pack's principles. Yet when he saw how easily his elders looked the other way and called the deaths correct when every lesson they pressed in him asserted otherwise, he bitterly smiled that even dead his moon could shake his foundations.
So, perhaps his understanding of necromancers is shallow. That he must reflect more. His teachings are not wrong he simply must adapt them to his present.
In his innermost thoughts, the ones he had been taught to supress, he knew his true motive: he could not bear to part with Wei Wuxian after those words. It was as simple and selfish and shameful as that. As he will bear the karma for supporting the Wen annihilation, he will the consequence of this decision. He is committed to Wei Wuxian.
He questions, "Can you control it?"
Wei Wuxian angles his head. A second later, he gets it. That madness is associated with necromancers almost as much as it is with the elderitch meddling warlocks.
Vestigal ash and smoke fill his lungs. The stickiness of blood raining down on him never quite leaves his dreams. Screams and pleads pound on his ears.
If he met past himself, he would whack that egoistic, hubris filled, and edgey child and snap the idiotic tool he created much earlier.
Appraising the pinnacle of a Confucian gentlemen, he nods. He swears, "If I go too far, I'll accept any verdict of yours. If I die by your hands, that would only be proper."
He gestures toward the cavern opening. He questions which interaction of theirs sparked the second oath. He swears in his oul to never allow to come to that point.
The space is dim and dusty. The air within pulls several degrees lower than the forest outside. Amongst the nature there's a touch of unpleasant scents: vomit, urine, and feces masked with liberal bleach usage.
Wei Wuxian hums.
A will-o-wisp drifts down from the ceiling followed by another. The two cast flickering lights around the tunnel.
Four meters in, a man dressed like a deliquent glares at them.
"Bringing a guard dog? Do you think I'm scared?" the vampire sneers from several layered wards.
Wen Ning reveals, "He flinched when I floated too close."
"I don't think you can trick me," he hissed, "commanding your Ghost General to be pretend to be docile."
Wei Wuxian chuckles.
Lan Wangji notes the title. It tickles the back of mind.
"If you won't talk," he gestures. "Wen Ning do your thing."
Wen Ning darts forward. His aura thickens with yin energy. He reaches out as if to gouge the vampire's skulll.
"Stop! No fuck. I'll die." He scrambles backwards.
Gesturing stop, he asks, "Well? Have you loosened your tongue?"
"You and your mutt have no idea what you're getting into."
Wei Wuxian frowns. Walking up to the ward boundary, he gestures. "Can you be more original? Dog and now mutt? And aren't you ashamed of calling such this gentleman a mutt?"
Lan Wangji wrinkles his nose. A nettle of smoke claws his senses. He yanks Wei Wuxian.
Smoke rises from the vampire. Wide-eyed, he looks down and to Wei Wuxian. He pleads with the air, "I didn't betray you."
Flames lick the wards. Pushing on them, it distorts the air where the magics clash. A funnel of fire and smoke burn out in ten seconds, leaving only ash atop cinnabar markings.
"Well, that isn't good." Wei Wuxian says at least.
Wen Ning floats down, craning his neck. He wonders, Why the two as still standing so close?
"We'll have to take a closer look where A-Zhui was held then."
"Wait."
Wei Wuxain grabs and pulls. "Hm?"
"What would Wen-gongzi do?"
"Oh. That." Wei Wuxian shrugs. "I have no idea. I figured if he was afraid of Wen Ning maybe that would push him to talk. But from that fire and the vampire's words,..."
He peeks at Lan Wangji's stern expression. "How much do you understand about oaths?"
"Was that backfire?"
Wei Wuxian gestures meh with his body. "From his words, it doesn't seem so. My best guess is he had a pretty one-sided oat or maybe a contract. Since he didn't show up, they decided to cut their lost. This is the third one I lost like this. I figure if I catch enough of them one'll crack."
"Third?"
He clarifies, "Third vampire. First group of them. Most of them are pretty careful but there's been a string of disappearances. I noticed when it kicked up to ripping people out of bars."
"Hm... what do you suspect?"
Stopping at the back of the cave, there was a two or three cages pushed to the wall which was definitely not good news.
Wei Wuxian directs the will-o-wisp to light the area properly. "At first, I thought it was an immature vampire without a sire. Or one that went mad. It fit the random pattern in its victims. Most vamps are have a type after all."
"Then I floated around the idea that maybe there was a reckless sire making vamplings. Or maybe a coven formed that doesn't follow the rules." Wei Wuxian surveys the fairly empty space. "But now..."
He points at the cages.
"Human trafficking?"
"Hm... Did you pack hear anything?"
He shakes.
"I figured." He points to a drawn the walls. "Silencing glyph."
Wei Wuxian interwines his fingers. Twisting, he faces his palms upwards, he stretches, "I guess it's down to paper and pen investigation."
#Winding Moonrise#Wangxian#MDZS#Mild Sads#sarahyyy#wick writes#I feel like I accidentally jinxed myself joking about flashbacks all the time there are five to six different flashbacks#with this many flashbacks can I even claim this is in the present#oh look there's plot#wait this is a paranatural romance mystery?#I'm going to try#I wanted to write more but I feel like Tumblr iss bad for longer fic#I keep trying to write to this one line but too many words come out
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
with how GE got brought up again, memory lane kicked in with my time with the game with someone
I’m pretty sure I accidentally ruined the experience for them cause bullets are just OP even if you use a low rarity equipment and I feel really bad about it after realizing this days later after they finished the campaign. This partly because at my mind, I think I was in farming mode so I almost always moved in for kills while also going for heals and buffs for them
context under readmore
sad that I think this was the only post I had of it, but my screenshots of the game are all gone cause I had to format my PC deleting everything
For more context
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
devidol
Jan!
incorrectbabylonberlin
Incorrect Babylon Berlin Quotes
gap31
Untitled
strength-sap
New blog.
mielplante
mielplante