[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

The lantern is done. It's a momentous achievement; a culmination of all of Wei Wuxian's work since he first arrived at the inn...

And now it means he doesn't have a project to work on anymore. The agony!

He'll think of one soon enough. In the meantime, he's settled for sketching out an update to the Compass of Evil, whittling away at a block of wood Madam Bar provided him. If he has all the tools of a thousand worlds at his disposal, it should be no trouble at all to fine-tune the instrument.

Comments

[acrookedpath]

He shivers, faintly. As one arm wraps more securely around Lan Zhan, the other hand rises to cup the back of his head.

It's a long, breathless moment before they drift apart, and when they do, Wei Wuxian's smile is radiant.

"All right," he murmurs. "What else do we need to bring?"

[lightamidchaos]

“I have everything I would usually bring on a night hunt,” Lan Wangji tells him. “Is that world such that we need anything else?”

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian lets out another considering hum, his gaze drifting back to the talisman wall.

"I don't know what weapons would work against an entity like this one," he says, "but there are some I've seen others from similar worlds use. Guns, mainly. Though..." A wry laugh. "Bringing an unfamiliar weapon to Twin Peaks would probably hurt more than help."

[lightamidchaos]

“Bow and arrows?” he suggests.

[acrookedpath]

"Already packed," says Wei Wuxian, cheerfully waving a hand toward the bag near the door.

[lightamidchaos]

“Mn.” He considers the wall as well. “Unless there are more of these that you believe will be helpful, we are prepared.”

[acrookedpath]

"Wonderful."

He smooths his hands down the front of Lan Zhan's robes -- and then an idea visibly strikes.

"Ah! Should we dress as they do in that world?"

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji gives him a suspicious look. “That woman wears dresses.”

[acrookedpath]

"But Twin Peaks is not her home world," he says, all wide-eyed innocence. "What if everyone else dresses as they do in London Above?"

[lightamidchaos]

“Neither is it ours,” he points out. “We will ask.”

[acrookedpath]

Wei Wuxian pouts -- or tries to; the twitch to his lips gives it away.

"All right," he says, mock doleful, before sneaking one last kiss and disentangling himself from Lan Zhan. "I suppose that's the more sensible course."

He will see you in a pair of snug trousers yet, Lan Zhan!

[lightamidchaos]

“Yes,” he returns, unmoved. “It is.”

He has his suspicions about Wei Ying’s reasons, but chooses not to mention them.

[acrookedpath]

He wrinkles his nose, amused, and saunters away to grab his bag.

"Then yes, I suppose we're ready." He slings the bag over one shoulder. "Shall we?"

[lightamidchaos]

“I am ready.” He moves to Wei Ying’s side and opens the door for them both.

[acrookedpath]

As they exit, Wei Wuxian fishes out the coin and cups it in his palm. He isn't sure how it will direct them -- will it hum, growing louder as they move closer to Moiraine's room? Will it fly from his hand and expect them to follow?

It does neither. Instead, there's a soft, warm pulse, a shimmer of light, and then the feeling of being tugged, as if the coin will slip from his palm if he does not move.

Holding out his hand, he exchanges another look with Lan Zhan, and lets himself be guided.

[blue_ajah]

The faint gleam of silver light that emanates from the coin does not change, but the sense of being drawn along in a particular direction does, depending on where they are in the hallways and corridors that make up the Milliways upstairs. Eventually, however, they are brought to stand in front of an unassuming door of the same dark wood as every other on this hall, but without a number. A small plaque contains the silver flame from the coin - matched with an ebon-black fang in a single circle.

(There are very few who will recognize the ancient symbol of the Aes Sedai from before the Breaking of the World as such, but it serves well enough for her purposes.)

[acrookedpath]

Large pieces of his last conversation with Moiraine have been washed away by time -- not to mention the copious amounts of wine he consumed afterward -- but he remembers a few moments, here and there, where they looked across the table and acknowledged their similarities.

It seems fitting, in a wry, resigned way, that another similarity should adorn her door like this.

He raps his knuckles against the door just below the plaque. "It's us," he calls.

[blue_ajah]

Silver light glows around the edges of the door and fades to nothing. "You may enter," the Aes Sedai calls.

The room inside is simply appointed, with a desk in the far corner, a tall glass-fronted cabinet in the other corner, and a series of bookshelves in between. A small sofa covered in deep blue velvet, with a low table in front of it, stands further down along the wall. On the opposite side of the room from it is a fairly new addition: a drafting table of the sort that architects might use, covered in paper and with a series of spirals and circles sketched out upon it.

Moiraine is sitting at the desk, writing a letter. She folds and seals it as they walk in, and for an instant it glows in her hand before she turns to look at them.

"Do you have everything you need?"

[acrookedpath]

"I believe so," says Wei Wuxian, but absently; his full attention has been snagged by the drafting table, gaze sharpening as he recognizes the loops and whorls of a thanergy theorem. Without thinking, he steps closer for a better look.

He never had the chance to ask Harrow how she charts her work. There was so much else to discuss, he thinks wistfully.

[blue_ajah]

Moiraine arches her eyebrows. "Do you recognize this one?"

Behind Wei Wuxian, his white-clad friend drifts up silently to examine the drawing as well. She notes with mild inward amusement that at no time does he let her out of his sight.

[acrookedpath]

He frowns, very slightly. By now he is close enough to skate his fingers over the sweep of the theorem, not quite touching the paper.

"Warding, yes?" he murmurs. It is like trying to read a distantly related language; the arrangement has a vague similarity to a ward talisman, though the sigils curve oddly to form characters he cannot decipher. "And this -- "

He sketches a circle with one fingertip along another part of the theorem.

"That looks similar to a channel for blood." A small sigh; he pulls his hand back. "I never did learn as much as I wanted about Harrow's theorems."

[blue_ajah]

"It should," Moiraine tells him. "It is a blood ward. A simpler one than the model I saw, but still."

[acrookedpath]

He nods -- and then, as her words catch up to his ears and jar his concentration loose, glances her way.

Quieter: "Have you seen Harrow recently?"

[blue_ajah]

"I suspect not, given how long it has been for you since I last saw you," Moiraine tells him, even as her dark eyes narrow. She looks back and forth between them.

"How long has it been since you have seen her? Or Gideon Nav?"

[acrookedpath]

"Too long."

There's a rueful twitch to his mouth, far less smile than pained reflex.

"Since even before we last saw you, I think."