[pfsb]

[acrookedpath]

It is well past wǔ hour -- nearly noon, by the inn's reckoning -- when Wei Wuxian wakes back up to shuffle downstairs.

His robes are rumpled. He's secured his hair back in a simple, untidy ponytail, strands of hair ecaping from all sides. Muffling a yawn against the back of his hand, he bows to Madam Bar and asks for the strongest pot of tea she can provide -- he cannot sleep the whole day, after all, and he certainly must be awake for whenever Lan Zhan returns.

Not only does Madam Bar give him a pot of tea almost as big as his head, but it's accompanied by a hefty ceramic cup as large as two fists stacked together. Bold reds, greens, and golds swirl across one side to form an elegant wall of text: RISE AND SHINE, BITCHES.

He is still tired enough to find this absolutely hilarious, if his snickering is anything to go by.

Comments

[acrookedpath]

"Perhaps I will be in better shape to talk then, John-qianbei," he says easily enough. He lifts his mug of tea in salute. "I hope your Admirality does not come down too hard on you for your absence."

[hinotfuckingdead]

He grabs his iridescent cloak; and what lay beneath it, a crown of laurel and tiny, tiny bones.

"I wish you well in your recovery," he says. "And in the meantime, I bid you remember the first rule of summoning -- not everything you catch in a tuna net is tuna." He sets the crown in his wavy hair and strides towards the door.

[acrookedpath]

The crown of bones does nothing to soothe Wei Wuxian's growing unease. It is clearly the ornamentation of someone high-ranking; combined with the energy he glimpsed, it does not matter how easy and genuine John's demeanor may seem. Should they speak again --

Well. He will have to be cautious. That's all.

His brow knits in confusion at John's analogy. Puzzled, he lifts a hand to wave good-bye; only when John is through the door does he turn back to his tea.