Open RP Post

[firstjade]

Have a desire for a PSL or continuation of a meme? Here's the place to post it!

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Continuing TFLN thread

[firstjade]

Text prompt: i. He has spoken eight thousand words in an hour's time. I have counted.

U asked for this

[firebranding]

[Asking for Xichen’s help in playing the guqin had been a good idea in many, many different ways. He’d accounted for and planned for it all. It allowed him to spend some time out of Lanling and the narrowed looks sent his way down the noses of those that thought themselves his betters, away from the whispers behind cupped hands and the sharp eyes just waiting for a reason to topple him.

No good deed goes unpunished, as they say, so perhaps it better he didn’t try at all.

These meetings offered in Gusu gave him the sort of peace he never could quite find anywhere else, though not just for the tranquility the landscape offered. It was also aided by the man presiding over his musical lessons, the eyes that never looked at him with derision or scorn, that never looked down on him.

Jin Guangyao was a man of ambition and patience; he could god himself together in the face of any humiliation or distraction, biding his time, playing the long game when he was so certain of the worthy payoff that would be rewarded to him.

He was not, however, at all prepared for Lan Xichen’s gentle instructions to be plaguing him as it was. Someone’s hands shouldn’t look that good sliding over the strings and plucking at them. He thinks the only thing worse would have been if Jin Guangyao had gotten it in his mind to ask about playing the xiao instead, because he’s seen Xichen play before, many times in fact. And seeing his mouth held steady to the tip of the instrument, poised and polished as he was, only fueled an imagination full of Xichen’s lips pressed to other things, or Guangyao practicing his technique in much more hands-on ways, or—

He doesn’t even have to fake his mistake this time, fingers plucking too harshly at the wrong time, the off-kilter twang of the string cracks sharply out of place in the cool air, and he winces with a soft hiss of displeasure at his mistake. He pulls his hand back and glances at Xichen through his eyelashes, bashful, his apologetic smile holding the hint of dimples]

Forgive me, Er-ge. My mind was elsewhere for a moment.

[dazzlingdream]

He survived. Somehow, some way, he survived. It took months for him to regain his strength in a place that was dark and quiet. It took even longer for him to adjust to having one arm.

His ally kept themselves hidden the entire time, lashing him into the saddle of a horse unexpectedly. They made the long journey to the Cloud Recesses together, though he was not aware of their destination at first. Meng Yao began to panic, however, when he recognized their surroundings. His companion showed no sign of caring, which was perhaps understandable considering his so-called ally revealed himself to be none other than a Lan disciple.

Oh.

His companion walked off, leaving him alone, tied to a horse and trembling. Death might have been kinder than this.

Trying this

[colludes]

Waking left him disoriented, his eyes blinking slowly as the ceiling came into the view, the voices below proof enough they were somewhere inhabited but his last memories were disordered. He remembered the temple but the actual timeline wasn't playing out clearly, maybe because he'd passed out at some point after strong arms had lifted him and while his vision had been dim, they were familiar enough.

Not that he'd wanted to relax, but the choice had been taken from him, bloodloss making him lightheaded until he just went limp.

And now?

His head ached, his eyes burned and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton as he tried to sit up.

[theirdage]

It wasn't Mingjue who had sent work to the Gusu Lan Sect but word had been sent to them all the same. Specifically to Xichen himself. The moods of the other leader were worsening. The other day he'd launched someone across the courtyard without meaning to do so. He needed healing. Music.

Anything.

When Mingjue received word that Xichen was requesting permission to enter his lands, he granted them immediately and went to greet him in the hall, Baxia in the sheathe by the throne. As soon as greetings were exchanged, he dismissed his people and moved toward his friend.

"What brings you, Xichen? You've traveled a good distance."

[taintedpeony]

This almost felt like a dream. The two of them have been on the run from the Wens for a few months by now. They were currently hiding out in a long-abandoned home away from any of the major towns. Nowhere anyone could find them. Give them some time to heal, rest and wash their clothes.

Meng Yao came into the small clean room they shared, arms full of clean laundry. He set the clean sheets over their straw bedding, hoping it would help with the itchiness of the hay.

"The water is almost done heating up, did you want a bath A-Huan? It has been a long trek, I think it would do good on our sore muscles," he spoke softly. He was traveling with the most beautiful youth he had ever met.