[pfsb] happy halloween!

[acrookedpath]

It's that time of year again.

The inn is bustling. All manner of strange outfits have been donned (some more willingly than others). Lanterns flicker ominously in the corners, pumpkins stand sentry at either end of the bar, and every order comes complete with a handful of wrapped candies.

And -- if you're Wei Wuxian -- Madam Bar has also gifted you with an enormous array of tiny cakes, each one with a little candle stuck in its center. His second birthday at the inn has arrived, and he could not be more pleased.

(He's also wearing a red T-shirt that reads, simply, I'M THE CHAOS. Just like last year, he has set his mild confusion aside in favor of delight at the bounty Madam Bar has given him.)

Comments

[acrookedpath]

A small crease forms between his eyebrows.

There is a familiar not-quite-chill to the breeze. He recognizes it, now that it is strong enough to stir his hair ribbon. There is no malevolence to it -- not even enough to raise goosebumps on his arms -- but there is little of the earthly energies to it, either.

"Hello?" he murmurs to the air.

Idly, in a spot of condensation on the bartop, he draws the symbol of the Seventh House with one fingertip.

[lotus_sister]

One peculiarity of the inn at the ends of the worlds, although neither of the two here is likely to realize it, is that on this day as time is measured in this place there is a thinning of the veil that divides the living from the dead, allowing conversations between them. It's a shift that is only further enhanced by Wei Wuxian's particular skill and status.

The combination of all these things means that the sigil of the Seventh House glows briefly under his fingers before dissolving in a shimmer of shining wisps of light - wisps that are dispersed as a familiar voice whispers,

"A-Xian, it's me! Can you hear me?"

[acrookedpath]

"Shijie?" he breathes. His fingertip hovers over the sigil, frozen -- and then he slaps his entire hand against the bar, demanding, "Madam Bar, please, may I have incense and a small knife -- "

He has barely finished speaking before the items shimmer into view. Hastily, Wei Wuxian sketches a fire talisman in the air, lighting the stick of sandalwood incense, and fumbles in his sleeves for a slip of talisman paper.

[lotus_sister]

The smoke coils into the air - and then thins, spreading out into a misty shape, wrapping itself around a figure that becomes more visible the more smoke is absorbed.

Jiang Yanli is standing beside him, beaming.

"A-Xian!" Her voice is audible now, more than a mere whisper, although still soft, and she is delighted. "I knew you would--"

The ghostly figure blinks. "--what are you wearing?"

[acrookedpath]

It has taken so little this time. No Inquiry, no lengthy chants from a world far beyond his own. How? he wants to ask, and why? --

-- but that is so far secondary to seeing his sister's face again, clearer than he ever has since he arrived at the inn.

"Shijie," he says again, the words thickened by encroaching tears. He doesn't want to look away, but he must: as swiftly as he lit the incense, he pierces his index finger with the knife and redraws the Seventh House sigil in his own blood.

The rest of what she said finally sinks in. A little helplessly, Wei Wuxian begins to laugh.

"It is some custom of the inn," he says. "I will explain."

[lotus_sister]

As the sigil sinks into the talisman paper, a loop of incense smoke wreathes it, and suddenly Jiang Yanli's form is no longer blurred at the edges. A hint of color spreads through her features, as though watching a drawing brought to some form of life. She runs her fingertips over his shoulder, studying the shirt, then shakes her head at him with a mischievous smile.

"Very strange! But it suits you somehow. I don't know why."

[acrookedpath]

His shijie touches his shoulder, and Wei Wuxian stops breathing.

How often has he thought of this? The nights expounding on some theory or another with Lan Zhan, something that could bring Jiang Yanli to the inn as a physical presence; the mornings where he has to bury his face in Lan Zhan's chest and weep, upon realizing a dream of his sister was only a dream.

And now here she is. Whatever has changed between their last summoning and now... it does not matter.

Tears spring to Wei Wuxian's eyes, and he throws his arms around his shijie in a crushing hug.

[lotus_sister]

She hugs him back, and both arms are solid around him, as solid as the feel of her slight body in his embrace.

"Oof, Xianxian, you're squishing me," she protests, laughing, but doesn't loosen her own hug.

[acrookedpath]

"Ah, sorry, sorry -- "

He eases off with a watery laugh of his own. Not for very long, though: only long enough to wipe his eyes, sniffling, and hug her a second time -- less ferociously, now.

"Shijie, how did you find your way here? Was it like before?"

[lotus_sister]

"No, and it was so strange," she tells him, as she settles onto the seat next to him. "I was - well, where I usually am, I guess - anyway, I didn't hear the call like before? Just suddenly I could see the room, and all these people, and there you were just like you are now, with that plate in front of you, and so I had to try to get your attention."

Outside the bar, where the sun set just a few minutes ago, the last bit of light slowly fades from the sky as Jiang Yanli speaks, and as it does the color in her face and eyes and hair is finally matched by a familiar tinge of purple in her robes.

[acrookedpath]

As she takes a seat, he immediately reaches for her hand, as if he will never be able to touch her again should they lose contact. It cannot be a coincidence, seeing the color rise in her robes as the last light vanishes outside. The lump in his throat grows larger yet; he tries, with no success, to swallow it away.

"I am glad you did!" he laughs. If it still sounds a little choked -- well. He knows his shijie will forgive him. "Otherwise I may have stared at Madam Bar's gift all night. Here, would you like one? -- If you can eat?"

Surely she must be able to eat, if she is solid enough to touch him. Wei Wuxian pushes the cupcakes her way with his free hand.

[lotus_sister]

"Oh!" Jiang Yanli exclaims, picking up one of the little cakes in one hand - carefully, so as not to touch the flame on the small candle. "Is it - A-Xian, it is your birthday!"

She is not sure what the candle is for, but the timing of the season, the gift of cakes, her beloved younger brother: these things she is sure of.

[acrookedpath]

"It is!" At last, at Jiang Yanli's joy, his own smile blossoms: bright, uncomplicated. "I am twenty-two years old now, I think. And here at the inn, the day matches to a holiday of costumes and treats."

He gestures to his T-shirt.

"That's why Madam Bar dressed me this way."

[lotus_sister]

"Twenty-two! Surely not. Xianxian is three," she tells him, smiling back. "But the color is right for you."

[acrookedpath]

"Who knows? It is a strange holiday," he says, all innocence. "I may be three years old by the end of it."

That would be nice, he thinks: to rest his head on his shijie's knee like a child -- like he would do, teasingly, at Lotus Pier so often. To have her stroke his hair and feed him soup.

He smooths his hand over the fabric of the shirt. "I like it quite a lot," he agrees. "Perhaps Madam Bar will give me an entire stack of shirts much like it. But shijie, tell me! Are you still well, where you are?"

[lotus_sister]

"I am," she assures him. Jiang Yanli plucks the candle from the cake and blows it out, careful not to bring it too close to her hair, then sets it aside. "I am well. It's peaceful. Like sleeping."

[acrookedpath]

"Good." A little softer.

He finally makes himself let go of Jiang Yanli's hand, the better to nab a cupcake of his own. "I am not used to peaceful ghosts," he admits, wry. "And besides -- you know I often worry too much. Especially about my family."

[lotus_sister]

She wrinkles her nose at him. "I'm not just a ghost," she informs him, primly. "I'm your sister." Jiang Yanli touches her hand to his face, brushing a lock of hair back from his eyes.

"I know. A-Xian has so much love in his heart."

[acrookedpath]

His smile wobbles, despite himself; he lets out another small laugh as he looks down.

"Ah, shijie," he whispers. "I have missed you so much. I know I say that every time we speak, but..."

[lotus_sister]

"I know," she murmurs, soft and gentle. "I've missed you too. But I'm here now."

[acrookedpath]

He nods. With wry amusement: "And here I am, so caught in my worries that you will leave too soon that I cannot enjoy the moment. That won't do, will it?"

Wei Wuxian looks up; his smile firms.

"So let us enjoy our treats, to start."

[lotus_sister]

Jiang Yanli gives him a teasing smile, picks up one of the little cakes, and holds it to his lips.

[acrookedpath]

He breaks into another tiny laugh. Quickly, he bites into the cupcake, and wipes away the frosting that catches on his upper lip as he chews.

[lotus_sister]

Her own laughter ripples out like bells as she uses the side of her thumb to clean away a bit of frosting that he missed.

"You haven't changed a bit."

[acrookedpath]

He has to blink, hard, at the sound of her laugh, lest his eyes start welling up again.

"I haven't?" he asks lightly.