( Wei Wuxian personally believed it out of necessity, not so much understanding. Not having any recollection of a moment of death, of a moment of stasis, of anything but a blurred impression of passing time and no passing judgements, a state of unbeing and being and now: alive. Exchanged in position for another, meaning what? Mo Xuanyu is now suspended elsewhere, alive? Yet not, or else what had his spirit been doing, addressing Wei Wuxian and telling him of his own sacrifice for summoning a body and soul that had lain sixteen years dormant in some unknown, hidden state?
There are things he thinks about now to no known end, searches out on roads that cross into lands he's never set foot in, and across those he has. Coming back around here, with a degree less of the stress that had him walking even more cautiously than he does now...
... Okay, so he's still uncertain, just trying to hide it well. He hadn't lied, in his mumbling before Fairy's unrelenting stare, when his mask had been exposed and his brother had demands Wei Wuxian had no explanation for. Explanations, sometimes, ring more like excuses, and he won't excuse himself for his role in Jiang Yanli's death. Not even learning what else was happening at the time.
Hypocritical as it had been, the man who struck the killing blow had wanted to see Wei Wuxian die for the sake of the brother who had also tried and failed to see Wei Wuxian die, then died for it. That culpability had everything to do with turned tides of public opinion, and one man allowed retaliation where another man was not.
Past days. Things which he only lingers on when facing the engravings bearing witness to the lost, but not yet.
He'd never once failed to want to come back to Lotus Pier, but he does know, and has known, it's not his home. He doesn't have one of those, not these days.
He trails after Jiang Cheng, not side by side, a good three steps or more behind, partly from glancing around when it's not the middle of the night and partly because he's still not sure he should be here. Is allowed here? Yes, he is, but last time it'd been on the fringes, there'd been the yelling, the near fight, the passing out—and everything he never fully learned had been said until later, with all that fallout too.
At least he's gotten permission to pay respects where they're most due. That twists his lips up into something of a sad smile, eyes turned in the direction of the Jiang family shrine as a matter of course. )
Then, could I—I won't go wandering around, I promise.
( Itchy feet to wander familiar walkways, but holding back, since he's the guest. And this is not the memories he was here to renew, now, was it? Or it was, but not strictly what he planned to put to the page in ink. Perhaps he ought to, given the number of times he ended up kneeling and speaking with her there before things hit the point of no return, but... boats over lotuses in lakes and rivers, laughing and splashing, a young woman expertly peeling lotus seeds. There are so many living memories, too. He can feel them here in a way that he didn't otherwise, the location alone enough to stir up old ghosts and familiarities. Not the bad ones: he doesn't want to waste time on those. Better left forgotten. )
all is good <3 never a rush, and worth the wait
There are things he thinks about now to no known end, searches out on roads that cross into lands he's never set foot in, and across those he has. Coming back around here, with a degree less of the stress that had him walking even more cautiously than he does now...
... Okay, so he's still uncertain, just trying to hide it well. He hadn't lied, in his mumbling before Fairy's unrelenting stare, when his mask had been exposed and his brother had demands Wei Wuxian had no explanation for. Explanations, sometimes, ring more like excuses, and he won't excuse himself for his role in Jiang Yanli's death. Not even learning what else was happening at the time.
Hypocritical as it had been, the man who struck the killing blow had wanted to see Wei Wuxian die for the sake of the brother who had also tried and failed to see Wei Wuxian die, then died for it. That culpability had everything to do with turned tides of public opinion, and one man allowed retaliation where another man was not.
Past days. Things which he only lingers on when facing the engravings bearing witness to the lost, but not yet.
He'd never once failed to want to come back to Lotus Pier, but he does know, and has known, it's not his home. He doesn't have one of those, not these days.
He trails after Jiang Cheng, not side by side, a good three steps or more behind, partly from glancing around when it's not the middle of the night and partly because he's still not sure he should be here. Is allowed here? Yes, he is, but last time it'd been on the fringes, there'd been the yelling, the near fight, the passing out—and everything he never fully learned had been said until later, with all that fallout too.
At least he's gotten permission to pay respects where they're most due. That twists his lips up into something of a sad smile, eyes turned in the direction of the Jiang family shrine as a matter of course. )
Then, could I—I won't go wandering around, I promise.
( Itchy feet to wander familiar walkways, but holding back, since he's the guest. And this is not the memories he was here to renew, now, was it? Or it was, but not strictly what he planned to put to the page in ink. Perhaps he ought to, given the number of times he ended up kneeling and speaking with her there before things hit the point of no return, but... boats over lotuses in lakes and rivers, laughing and splashing, a young woman expertly peeling lotus seeds. There are so many living memories, too. He can feel them here in a way that he didn't otherwise, the location alone enough to stir up old ghosts and familiarities. Not the bad ones: he doesn't want to waste time on those. Better left forgotten. )