PFSB in London Above
Oct. 1st, 2020 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
herald_ingressThe door slams behind Ingress as she strides into Milliways. She hesitates in front of the House of Arch painting, but if she goes there she'll cry and be coddled, and her sister will give her the look that always says "Come home, we'll figure it out, just come back home to us." There is no figuring it out, not even with Tom's help. She was chosen for a reason. She wants to be a Herald. She wants to be with her companion. She wants to be a part of her new world, her true home now. She wants and wants and never stops wanting.
And, oh, tonight, she is tired. Tired to the bone. Tired deep down to her soul.
The last time she came here, she laughed like she had when she was little with her practice sword and tutu, when everything was bright before her and nothing could go wrong. When she went back to Haven, no time had passed; Megwyn asked her why she hadn't gone after all. Ingress hadn't answered right away, and then she'd simply said "I changed my mind" and then changed the subject.
When Megwyn found her here, all those years ago, she had been broken, possibly beyond repair. Door had tried so hard to be everything her sister needed her to be, but she was, Ingress knows now, ridiculously young, and she had Tom to deal with, too, even though he tried his best to fix them both as they stumbled together into life as a family. But Ingress had shattered that day in the greenhouse when the blood rushed out from her mother's throat onto the roses, and she'd been snatched, kicking and screaming, away from her home. She'd broken into more and more and more pieces during her silent captivity; isolated, cold, and in the constant dark with nothing but scuttling spiders for company.
She'd tried to open the door for Islington when he had her brought to him. She'd tried so hard. But she was too little, and the door he wanted was too far away, and when he screamed at her, she'd tried again, tried so hard that her ears hurt and her nose bled, but it still hadn't been enough and back she'd gone into the dark. She was fed irregularly, and, after a while, she stopped crying. She stopped hoping. She stopped feeling anything at all. When Door saved her months later, she had to learn how to be a little sister, how to be loved, how to be Ingress again.
When Megwyn found her, when she chose her as her herald, the bond between them mended the broken parts within her enough that, with all the rest of the love and support from her family and friends, she healed quickly. Ingress came out of the dark that day, for good, in her mind and heart, and she lived and she laughed and she thrived.
But even when you're not broken, life isn't easy. Ingress has the blessing of a companion who is always - and will always be - there for her, but she's as lonely as any single young woman hoping with all her heart for more. Her three week circuit had ended, and she was tired and wounded from a skirmish - nothing terrible, but enough to make her constantly aware of the ache on her left side that kept her from sleeping well. When she got back to her room, her heart full of hope and relief, the message basket beside her door was empty. Cassildra hadn't written. That made two months without word from her, and, what was worse, Mewgyn gently told her no when Ingress asked her to check in with her Companion, Talian, to see if Cassildra was okay. Which meant... which meant Cassildra wasn't going to write her. Ever.
Blast it all, it wasn't as if Ingress had insisted on a betrothal. She was deeply smitten, but she'd tried to play it cool, to not be clingy, as her ex-boyfriend had called her a year before. When Cassildra was posted indefinitely across the kingdom, she'd only had hoped for letters. And for something, maybe one day, more than an empty bed night after night. But that was looking like it would be her fate.
It was hard for Ingress, even still, to fit in as someone from 'out kingdom'. Someone with strange hair and strange eyes and strange gifts who was oh so lovely, and such a gifted fighter, but never quite enough to secure a place in a beloved's heart.
She slumps onto one of the couches near the fireplace. There are times when she wonders if it would be worth opening the door that she keeps tightly shut within herself, the door with thoughts of her sister and her birth world and just what could be fixed and what couldn't behind it.
Or... maybe she'll get really, really drunk and not think about anything for a while, until her wide open heart pains her just a little bit less.
And, oh, tonight, she is tired. Tired to the bone. Tired deep down to her soul.
The last time she came here, she laughed like she had when she was little with her practice sword and tutu, when everything was bright before her and nothing could go wrong. When she went back to Haven, no time had passed; Megwyn asked her why she hadn't gone after all. Ingress hadn't answered right away, and then she'd simply said "I changed my mind" and then changed the subject.
When Megwyn found her here, all those years ago, she had been broken, possibly beyond repair. Door had tried so hard to be everything her sister needed her to be, but she was, Ingress knows now, ridiculously young, and she had Tom to deal with, too, even though he tried his best to fix them both as they stumbled together into life as a family. But Ingress had shattered that day in the greenhouse when the blood rushed out from her mother's throat onto the roses, and she'd been snatched, kicking and screaming, away from her home. She'd broken into more and more and more pieces during her silent captivity; isolated, cold, and in the constant dark with nothing but scuttling spiders for company.
She'd tried to open the door for Islington when he had her brought to him. She'd tried so hard. But she was too little, and the door he wanted was too far away, and when he screamed at her, she'd tried again, tried so hard that her ears hurt and her nose bled, but it still hadn't been enough and back she'd gone into the dark. She was fed irregularly, and, after a while, she stopped crying. She stopped hoping. She stopped feeling anything at all. When Door saved her months later, she had to learn how to be a little sister, how to be loved, how to be Ingress again.
When Megwyn found her, when she chose her as her herald, the bond between them mended the broken parts within her enough that, with all the rest of the love and support from her family and friends, she healed quickly. Ingress came out of the dark that day, for good, in her mind and heart, and she lived and she laughed and she thrived.
But even when you're not broken, life isn't easy. Ingress has the blessing of a companion who is always - and will always be - there for her, but she's as lonely as any single young woman hoping with all her heart for more. Her three week circuit had ended, and she was tired and wounded from a skirmish - nothing terrible, but enough to make her constantly aware of the ache on her left side that kept her from sleeping well. When she got back to her room, her heart full of hope and relief, the message basket beside her door was empty. Cassildra hadn't written. That made two months without word from her, and, what was worse, Mewgyn gently told her no when Ingress asked her to check in with her Companion, Talian, to see if Cassildra was okay. Which meant... which meant Cassildra wasn't going to write her. Ever.
Blast it all, it wasn't as if Ingress had insisted on a betrothal. She was deeply smitten, but she'd tried to play it cool, to not be clingy, as her ex-boyfriend had called her a year before. When Cassildra was posted indefinitely across the kingdom, she'd only had hoped for letters. And for something, maybe one day, more than an empty bed night after night. But that was looking like it would be her fate.
It was hard for Ingress, even still, to fit in as someone from 'out kingdom'. Someone with strange hair and strange eyes and strange gifts who was oh so lovely, and such a gifted fighter, but never quite enough to secure a place in a beloved's heart.
She slumps onto one of the couches near the fireplace. There are times when she wonders if it would be worth opening the door that she keeps tightly shut within herself, the door with thoughts of her sister and her birth world and just what could be fixed and what couldn't behind it.
Or... maybe she'll get really, really drunk and not think about anything for a while, until her wide open heart pains her just a little bit less.
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Date: 2020-10-05 07:25 pm (UTC)“Why don’t we sit here a few minutes? I need a moment. That was more excitement than I bargained for.”
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Date: 2020-10-05 07:58 pm (UTC)He rolls his head to the side to squint at her with muzzy concern. "You're all right too?"
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Date: 2020-10-05 09:01 pm (UTC)She gives him a teasing nudge with her elbow.
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Date: 2020-10-05 09:11 pm (UTC)"But you didn't dance. Ingress." He starts to pat her hand where it rests on top of his, realizes he's still holding the flute, and settles for gently poking her in the arm with it. "Ingress, I don't want you to miss out on dancing if you want to."
Really, first they get attacked and now his friend doesn't get to do everything she wants? He's so worried about her!
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Date: 2020-10-05 09:14 pm (UTC)It’s SoHo. There will be another club. Hopefully it will have drag queens.
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Date: 2020-10-05 09:34 pm (UTC)"Okay," he says. "Yes. I won't dance, I'll be good and drink some water, but I'll watch. And take pictures! We've barely taken any pictures, let's do that too -- "
The photos of each other they crank out on the way back to the train aren't the most artful, or in-focus. But they are joyous, in a way Wei Wuxian hasn't been for a long, long time. He felt so much older than his age for so much of his life; now, though, he is young, if only for a few raucous hours, in a strange city a thousand years in the future.
They pass another building with a cluster of wildly-dressed patrons outside; it looks a lot like the earlier club, but cozier, warmer. He tugs on Ingress's sleeve to get her attention and points.
(As promised, he sticks to water when they make it to the bar, and keeps the camera ready as she hops onto the dance floor.)
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Date: 2020-10-05 10:58 pm (UTC)"They're glorious," she sighs, boggling at the height of the heels these ladies wear. She's never been able to manage walking on heels. It's the only look she can't rock.
The music is loud, but it's not as thumping and all consuming as the first club. She has a great time dancing for a little while, in between striking poses for Wei Wuxian and the camera. She asks a beehived stranger to get a few of the both of them together, laughing and enjoying the end of a wild night. Luckily, their helper is too drunk to notice that the camera is not of the Muggle world, thus preventing any extremely awkward interference by the Ministry of Magic that Ingress would have to defend.
All good things must come to an end, though. Ingress is exhausted once she steps through the painting into the front gallery, arm and arm with Wei Wuxian.
"Thank you," she says, giving him a tight hug. "Thank you so much for tonight."
She rummages in the duck satchel, which contains multitudes apparently, and hands him a glass vial with an aggressively emerald liquid inside.
"This isn't Tom's hangover potion; it's even better. It's a restorative from the Lady Serpentine, an ally of our house. Drink it and it will be like you never had alcohol at all. It even tastes good. Like peppermint and sharp winter mornings."
She presses it into his hand and then leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Oh, and by the way, I've adopted you as my brother, don't argue, it's just how things are now."
With a wink and one more wave, she steps through the painting that will lead her to her room, her uniform, and her chance to hopefully slip all the things she borrowed back into place before she returns home to Valdemar.
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Date: 2020-10-05 11:25 pm (UTC)He's fine. He needed this so much more than he realized, and not just because of Lan Zhan, either.
-- Lan Zhan! Oh, no. It's so late, and -- he uncurls his hand to look down at the potion. No, he shouldn't take it yet, he decides. He's nowhere near sober still, but at least he can walk a (mostly) straight line after sticking to water at the last bar. Let that be his courage tonight.
So he stumbles upstairs, wandering to the room marked with 魏无羡 instead of any number. The warding talisman easily gives way beneath his touch.
He shoves the door open and calls, "Lan Zhan!"
There's no answer right away. No surprise, if he's asleep. Wei Wuxian sets his flute on the instrument stand and pulls off the black hoodie to toss it at the privacy screen. It falls far short as he goes on, "Lan Zhan, I'm back. I'm sorry it's so late. I went drinking with Ingress -- it's all right, she gave me a potion to take later so I won't be sick."
He unwinds the ribbon from his hair.
"There's something I want to tell you. It's really important. I'm so sorry if I worried you, I didn't mean it. Can we talk?"
Silence. Gradually, his hands slow to a stop where they work at his hair; the smile fades from his face.
The bed is empty. The washroom door stands open, dark; just as empty. When he shuffles over to the privacy screen to peek behind it, there's nobody there.
"...Lan Zhan?" he asks the quiet.
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Date: 2020-10-06 09:56 am (UTC)No sign exists that anyone else has been there this evening at all, in fact. Nothing in the room has been changed in the slightest from the way Wei Ying left it earlier. The items that Lan Wangji mentioned over breakfast that he planned to obtain have not been brought up. And although there is no way for Wei Ying to know this, it is not because he did not wish to.
It is because Lan Wangji is no longer in Cold Pond Cave.