#i really really love fascination and the first disciple and a drop of blood. those are my favorites. with a drop of blood being the first

[kikuism]

so i finished listening to sahar a few days ago. i'd typed out a long post but i am going to rewrite it now. here are my initial thoughts on the songs that stood out to me:

the longing perfectly encapsulates the tone of this new album. step out of the darkness. give in to your longing. 'hid away your longing will only grow / and you'll only grow colder'. it's inviting in a cool, eerie, somewhat foreboding way. i enjoyed it.

i love the dynamic happening in the flame, a sort of breaking apart of two old friends. a trade—a sacrifice—a betrayal ... 'i grow numb with time, but i'm still awake enough to care for both of us.' 'we watched the flame between us turn blue.' it's so short but captivating. a sliver into the lives of these now estranged souls. the instrumental here is very nice.

you don't own me is a song that took me quite a while to warm up to when it was released a couple weeks ago. i feel the songwriting isn't the strongest and falls a bit flat overall—a little generic, and a bit of a disappointment in my eyes. i like the sweeping sound toward the end, and the vocals are of course powerful, but this is probably the song i will skip the most. i didn't care for it as much as i wanted to.

fascination i absolutely adore—i was surprised when this first came out since the subject matter was so not like what i had heard from tamino thus far, warm and sweet but also retaining that wistful melancholic core. 'your fascination has always fascinated me / you make it harder to believe i was ever really here.' to me, this is an observant individual, who is a little jaded, it seems, a little skeptical and perhaps wary of deeper affections, but there is that kernel of longing. they see the world through this other person's eyes, a more vibrant and vivid world. 'i try not to understand, just try not to understand / for i've seen enough to know where i belong, and you can't prove me wrong.' it's melancholic the way rainwater glinting off puddles under the streetlights is. the shift from 'and you can't prove me wrong' to 'and there you prove me wrong', dissolving into 'i cry, i cry' as the song comes to an end. it's a resistance, and then a submission, a finally a breaking for the love to flow through and out.

the first disciple was the first single released for this album and i completely fell in love. the sound, the instrumentals, the vocals, the theme of utter devotion. but it isn't blind devotion. it's very interesting that this disciple is noting the decline of what made their idol/master so noteworthy in the first place. 'and i heed you the way i heed fire and thunder, but from time to time i wonder ... if you did it all to make you feel desired ... to make you feel admired, for love to replace your shame.' it's quite striking for a devotee to harbor such thoughts about the object of their devotion. there's a bittersweet sense of love and sorrow. 'you give it all to make you feel desired ... for love to replace your shame, for us to praise your name.' despite all this the disciple will remain a faithful follower and friend to the end. i love it.

the song that surprised me the most was cinnamon, which is the closest tamino has gotten to a 'pop' sound; it's very vibey, and would definitely be on those relaxing/concentration youtube playlists. i actually really like it, but that 'pop' sound feels a bit out of place next to songs like a drop of blood and the first disciple, even though the tone is also wistful and jaded.

my favorite song without a doubt is a drop of blood. it's that lush, haunting, eerie evocative sound that made me fall in love with tamino’s music in the first place, and it is the song that is the most reminiscent of his first album. a drop of blood is the indigo night of sahar: it's not really sung so much as it is spoken; to me, it's reminiscent of an arabic style of singing called mawwal—characterized by a slow beat and prolonging of vowel syllables. that's what tamino is doing in 'the gentle breeze that stirs their crown flows from the storm that lays them down', in 'but it's never long before an old yearning rises for the cradled nights', etc. it's beautiful. the vibrato in his voice gives me shivers. 'i've seen the sea give men a home and drown them too' instantly reminded me of the parting of the sea in the prince of egypt.

there's an otherworldly, mythical feel to this song that completely captivated me and transported me elsewhere. the way it starts off with trees and wind and sea, and then closes in on this person who broke their wrist, having fallen to the ground, ants crawling along their still, bloodied hand; it's all very earthly and mortal, the sand, the blood. and then—'deep down, sank deep down till i was part of everything / and in a grain of sand, saw peace in holy land / and saw you right in front of me, shapeless, sacred dust / beaming light and trust, covering all harm in shade / then in a drop of blood saw wars be fought for good and saw you make way for man’s truth / just for a while, though just enough, to lose my youth / from that day on i’ve been corrupt.' when a mortal brushes against something divine/greater than their earthly frame and it changes them forever....it makes me go feral. i got chills all over when i listened to this for the first time. if i heard this live i would be forever changed.

my dearest friend and enemy....i know he wrote this one for the tumblrinas. actually this reminds me a little of the flame, perhaps these are the same two people....who knows. it's so wistful....and his voice is so beautiful. this song tugs on my heartstrings. i have to listen to this one more though to really gather my thoughts. but i must hear this one live too.....

so. sahar isn't bright, but it feels like an emergence of sorts, tentative steps out of the cloak of night. i enjoyed hearing new tamino music and hearing him experiment with new sounds. but i must admit though that overall, i fell in love with that melancholic, introspective, darker mood of that first album, which to me encapsulates the voices of both a troubled, skeptical mortal and an introspective deity ruminating over the toils and foibles of humans.

[inessencedevided]

Wei Wuxian enters the Underworld Chamber with several scrolls clutched in his arms, struggling to keep them all together but he is able to settle them down on a table next to the one that is holding his client with a great clatter. For a moment he entertains himself with thinking what the Second Jade who was known to be very rule abiding would say to his general … everything. He would probably have those straight, black eyebrows furrowed and reprimand him with a single word.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here, hm?”, he offers and sifts through his collection of scrolls from the library of the Lan sect. “Your older brother gave me access to some very interesting scrolls, you know?! Your sect is famous for musical cultivation, he told me that you were on your way to become the best guqin player, close to Lan Yi. Fascinating stuff, this. Inquiry. Talking to the dead through the means of music. Maybe this will help me before I use Empathy. Which is a method I invented.”

He does this a lot, chattering away at people to break the ice. There is not a lot of ice to break because the person he is talking to is dead but it still feels nicer than to be completely quiet. And according to ZewuJun, his brother is still here, so maybe he will feel less alone like this. So he shuffles over to the guqin that seems to have been repaired. There is still some brownish-red residue on the wood and he knows that it only can be one thing. Blood. “Alright. Let’s do this,” he says softly. Carefully, he follows the movements that are described on the page, lets the notes ring out, waits for an answer in the dark.

There is silence for a moment and he is afraid he played so badly that the ghost is somehow offended and doesn’t want to come. But then, suddenly, there is an answer. No unnecessary embellishments, played slowly so he can understand but still so beautiful that he knows who it is. Who it only can be.

Who are you sings the instrument and he makes an excited sound, shuffling even closer. Wei Wuxian he answers, carefully playing out the notes. Your brother. Asked for help. he answers haltingly. It is almost like learning a new language. I go through memories. Am I allowed? There is another moment of silence, then he swears the answer sounds almost surprised. Yes. You may, Wei Wuxian. He giggles and bites his lip. “Call me Wei Ying,” he tells the room before remembering that he should have used the guqin. The instruments sings out, completely unprompted. Wei Ying.

His grin threatens to split his face and he gets up, walking towards the body, taking in the serene face, the inky hair, the creamy skin. He really is a beauty. “Just a moment,” he tells him and pats his hand, walking to the door and calling Lan Xichen in, who comes without any further prompting. “He gave me permission,” Wei Wuxian explains and then hands the sect leader a Clarity Bell, a thank you from Jiang Yanli for helping her sect when it called for it. “Ring this when things get sticky or I do not wake up. It will call me back.”

ZewuJun nods, taking the Bell, settling in, watching them both with a worried expression but Wei Wuxian just smiles and kneels next to the body, taking his hands, noticing how cold and yet soft they are, callouses at their fingertips from playing the guqin. “Lan Wangji,” he whispers. “Show me. Show me what is keeping you here.”

The memories feel like the first snow beneath naked feet, dropping into a body of cold water but also like standing on a mountain and letting the winds rush by. They start with a little boy kneeling in front of a house surrounded by gentians, clad in the same white the whole sect wears. He is six at most and why this memory is shown, Wei Wuxian doesn’t know but he keeps concentrating, diving deeper. He sees a strikingly handsome teenager studying in the library, copying old scrolls, playing quin and sneaking vegetables to the back hills where white bunnies roam. The images flash by, a lecture with disciples from other sects, Wen Chao and his entourage arriving and making a scene.

One moment stands out. The same teenager who must be Lan Wangji catches a young female disciple roaming the back hills, a Wen from the red of her robes. He walks away with her and the scenery shifts. They are in a building that is most likely the home of the sect leader, ZewuJun and his brother who stands next to him, straight-backed and breathtaking. He can hear voices, hears them talking of something Wen Ruohan wants, that he will raze the Cloud Recesses to the ground for it. The Yin Iron. Part of it is hidden away here. They will need to prepare for the worst.

The scene shifts again, to Caiyi and Lan Wangji walking through the busy market, holding his sword in his hand, one hand in a fist behind his back like a proper gentleman. He can hear crying and both of them look for the source of it, Wei Wuxian constricted by the limited sight he has. It is little girl with braided buns, crying heartbreakingly next to a stall with animals made from colourful cloth.

The cultivator with the severe face and the countenance of a remote, snow-capped mountain, kneels next to her and hands her a bunny rabbit made from colourful cloth, just purchased apparently, waiting for her to talk. “I lost my gege,” she sobs and shuffles closer, hugging him, getting his white robes dirty. He does not seem to care, instead looks at her and gently lays a hand on her shoulder. “I have a gege as well. I would be scared if I lost him in the crowd,” he says and oh, his voice. It’s calm and deep, trying to settle the little girl. “Shall we look for him together?”

She sniffles and nods, taking his hand in hers, looking up at him in awe and Wei Wuxian can relate. After just a moment, they have found her big brother and the little girl runs to hug him with a shriek of delight. He can see the corners of Lan Wangji’s mouth tilt up into a soft smile, barely noticeable but it is there. He seems to be content with a job well done.

Another shift. They seem to come quicker now, more talk of the Yin Iron, someone he recognises as Lan Qiren taking stock of their most valuable scriptures, letting it be taken away. It is terribly busy but Lan Wangji is a mountain in a rushing stream, carrying what he can with his impressive arm strength.

Yet another and the Cloud Recesses are burning. The disciples are running, many of them armed, some carrying instruments. Caiyi is in disarray as well, people barricading their homes, locking up their animals. Lan Wangji is making a sweep through town, his immaculate robes already stained with soot. The little girl from before runs towards him and hugs his leg, tearful and scared but she knows she is safe with the young cultivator. He gently pats her head and does the same to her rabbit doll.

Then, his face grows serious and he kneels down to look at her, reaching up and undoing his ribbon that falls into his hands, carefully tying it around her wrist. “Keep this safe. Go and take your brother, your parents and look for a grey mountain with yellow veins. This will give you free passage through the secret entrance. You will be safe,” he tells her gently and gets up. “Look for a man who looks like me but older. Lan Xichen.”

Another shift. This one seems to be the last. Lan Wangji is riddled with arrows, bleeding profusely, staggering but still standing upright. His forehead is bare, his hands around the hilt of his sword are bloodied but he carries himself with grace and sheer bullheaded stubbornness. What was that saying again? No matter how the wind howls, the mountain cannot bow to it. He is so very brave. Wei Wuxian can feel his need to protect the ones who are hidden in the cave behind him even at the cost of his own life.

He seems to have set his mind on something, following Wen Xu, even as another arrow buries itself in his back and a voice cries out “A-Zhan! No!”. A sharp crack, bones crunching. His leg is broken but Wen Xu is dead, staring into nothingness. Lan Wangji does not cry out, instead uses his sword to get up again, breathing hard, spitting blood but still, there is a defiant light in his eyes. Someone trips him up and he falls to his knees, his head held high, his guqin on the ground next to him, strings bloodied. As the sword finds its mark, Wei Wuxian does not look away. Dares not look away. Lan Wangji stays proud and brave until he crumples to the ground and stops breathing.

Ringing, silvery and gentle, pulls him out of the cold waters, guides him back into his own body. As he comes to with a gasp, he notices that he has been crying. He wipes his eyes and looks at the body in front of him, at this brave and stubborn man who died defending those he cared about. “You were so good. So good, Lan Zhan,” he whispers, the personal name slipping out as he squeezes the cold hands, looks into his serene face. “The best.”

He turns to Lan Xichen who looks like he has been crying as well. “He died with the deep wish to protect still ingrained into him. He wants to make sure you are alright. And… he is guarding something. I… you spoke of the Yin Iron.”

The way Lan Xichen pales is answer enough.

- 🍄 anon

(Part one for all who didn't read it)

Omg!!! You sent me through every feeling IMAGINABLE 🍄 anon 😭😭😭

That line about there being a lot of ice to crack made me laugh and then you just came at me like that with feelings about lwj dieing! Not. Fair. 🥺

And lwj + little kids = love :D

[ibijau]

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Nie Mingjue’s little brother is back to Qinghe for a short while, and things appear to be changing.

In the middle of the training field, Nie Mingjue glares at his brother. It should be enough to put an end to this bout of petulant rebellion. One look has always been enough to make Nie Huaisang behave, partly because he's never really been one to wilfully misbehave.

It doesn't work this time.

“Don't, don't look at me like, like that!” Nie Huaisang stutters, glaring black as hard as he can. “I said I'm not doing it and I'm. I'm just. I'm not! It's stupid and. It's stupid and it's pointless! I'm just not good at it!”

“And you'll never become good until you practice,” Nie Mingjue retorts, not quite raising his voice yet, but making it clear that he can if necessary. “Now get to work.”

Nie Huaisang shivers, his big eyes widening in fear. It's not pleasant to be feared, but if that's the only way to make his brother behave, so be it. Nie Mingjue's patience, already naturally thin, has become nearly non-existent since their father's death. He blames exhaustion, and stress, and the near constant fear of a Wen attack.

He'll never say so, but it's half a relief, knowing Nie Huaisang is only back for a little over a month. He's safer in the Cloud Recesses. Whatever happened there (Lan Qiren's letter evasively mentioned some temperament issues over failures, Lan Xichen's urged him not to punish his brother too harshly if indeed at all, Nie Huaisang, freshly arrived yesterday, just refuses to say anything about his stay) it cannot be as bad as what Wen Ruohan might do if he gets his hands on this kid who still can't hold his sabre properly and doesn't have a core at nearly sixteen.

It makes him sick just to think of it. He'd rather have Nie Huaisang miserable in the Cloud Recesses than dead in the Unclean Realm.

But while he's home again, Nie Huaisang is going to learn to protect himself, willing or not.

Mostly not.

“I don't want to,” Nie Huaisang repeats, his fist clenched as if ready for a fight. It's be more impressive if he didn't look ready to break into tears.

“Do it anyway,” Nie Mingjue retorts, letting his voice raise this time and... it works. His brother's shoulders quickly sag in defeat. He rejoins the ranks of the juniors training and miserably follows the instructors command with as little skill as ever.

Nie Mingjue lingers there a moment, checking that Nie Huaisang isn't slacking off but... of course he isn't. He's trying his best, as always, it's just a pity that sabre work doesn't seem to click for him. But Nie Mingjue isn't asking his brother to become his equal in this. He's not even asking him to become good, just to do well enough that he can defend himself when war finds them, as he knows it will.

-

After that attempt at rebellion on his first day back in the Unclean Realm, Nie Mingjue would have expected his brother to settle back in his usual obedience. Nie Huaisang has never been anything but dutiful and unresisting to authority, so clearly that little incident was only an anomaly.

Instead, on the second day, he's told that his brother refused to join practice, again. He’s forced to come to the practice field and to make him behave, again.

That goes the same as it did the first day, although Nie Huaisang resists a little longer before agreeing to practice.

The third and fourth days find him still resisting.

On the fifth day, Nie Huaisang just disappears. Nobody knows where he went, he hasn’t left a note, hasn’t told anyone. Nie Mingjue feels panic build up inside his chest. It’s nearly impossible for anyone to have come in undetected and kidnapped his brother, but who knows what Wen Ruohan is capable of. It had seemed nearly impossible for Nie Mingjue’s father to die, too.

It takes Nie Mingjue a while to find his brother, hiding with his damn birds far away from everything, humming songs for them without a care in the world. It's the first place they should have checked, really, but he hadn't thought Nie Huaisang would be so careless as to cause them worry for something so stupid.

“What are you doing here?” Nie Mingjue roars.

His brother shoots him a worried glance when he sees him approaching, then steels himself and turns back to his birds.

“I need to get them used to me again,” Nie Huaisang replies, smiling at a nightingale and passing a finger through the bar of its cage so the bird can inspect it. “I thought it'd take a while, but it's going very well. I am good with animals. I'd never realised.”

There’s something like pride in his voice as he says that, which is startling enough that Nie Mingjue forgets he was angry and worried. Nie Huaisang has always been a little odd, a little too shy, too meek, and aside from some drawings when he was younger, or the first time he caught a bird, it’s been a while since Nie Mingjue saw his brother act proud of anything.

“Can’t you be good with your sabre instead?” Nie Mingjue asks, but without heat, fascinated as he watches the bird hop onto his brother's finger. 

He's had a handful of disciples and servants on bird duty this year, and most have complained that the animals are uncooperative, sometimes even pecking at them when the cages need to be cleaned. Some of the birds have even escaped, much to Nie Huaisang’s dismay. Those feathery things have been a pain in everybody’s neck.

Yet when Nie Huaisang cautiously opens the cage, that nightingale doesn't fly away. It opens its wings and flies to Nie Huaisang’s shoulder where it stays and starts playing with his hair. 

Nie Huaisang slowly turns to his brother, a radiant smile on his face. 

"Told you I'm good! She's the one I bought so cheap because her wing was broken. Father scolded me so bad for wasting money, but look at her now." 

"You are good," Nie Mingjue agrees, more impressed than he'd care to admit. "But you were supposed to practice the sabre, so what are you doing here?" 

"It's boring, so I decided I wouldn't,” Nie Huaisang announces in a voice that only trembles a little, slowly lifting one hand to his shoulder, letting the bird inspect it before very carefully scratching its belly with one finger.

“That’s not how things work, Huaisang. You’re Qinghe Nie’s second master, you have to set an example. How am I going to get the other juniors to work hard if I can’t get you to obey?”

At this Nie Huaisang hesitates and tilts his head, looking too much like one his birds when they get curious. There's fear in his expression (when isn't there?) but something else as well, something new.

"Da-ge, if… If I say I want to try something. If. If I… If I ask for something, would you let me?" 

"It depends on what you want." 

Nie Huaisang nods. Very gently, he encourages his nightingale to hop on his hand, and turns his back on Nie Mingjue so he can put it back in its cage. 

"Someone. Someone has told me that I should think more of my strengths," Nie Huaisang says, still facing away. "And I think he's. I think he was right. Everyone knows all the things I can't do, but I want to try to see the ones I can. There's got to be things I'm good at, right? Everyone has things they're good at. There's got to be at least one. So please, while I'm home… Is it fine if I look for those things?"

Nie Mingjue feels as if he's been punched in the guts. 

It's not wrong that they've all gotten frustrated with Nie Huaisang's bad cultivation. Their father wasn't unkind as such, but he wasn't exactly patient either, especially after his second wife died in labour. It wasn't that he had taken out his grief on Nie Huaisang, not really, not exactly. But without this wonderful woman at his side, all he had left was the judgment of those who thought he'd debased himself by marrying a dancer, and an inadequate second son who kept proving it was wrong to allow weak blood into cultivating families. 

Nie Mingjue loves his brother, just as their father loved both of them, but he wonders when was the last time either of them bothered to tell Nie Huaisang that, when they last took the time to compliment him. 

Nie Huaisang isn't wrong, there has to be things he's good at, but Nie Mingjue isn't sure he can name one. 

"What sort of things do you want to try?" he cautiously asks. 

"You'd let me?" Nie Huaisang gasps, twirling around to give a look of such incredulity that this, too, hurts. "I, I don't really know. Wangji said I should look into arts. I gave him a painting and he liked it. And I like reading, and, and… And I'm no good with a sabre but maybe if I tried something else? I know… I know how important it is to you that I can fight. I'm okay with trying that too."

Nie Mingjue gives the idea due consideration. It's unorthodox for members of a sect to use other techniques, but there are precedents, especially in Qinghe Nie which tends to attract unusual personalities. It wouldn't be hard to find one or two people in the sect willing to show Nie Huaisang how to use a different weapon, or even hand to hand combat. 

"I still want you doing sabre practice with the other disciples at least twice a week," Nie Mingjue announces. "For the rest… I'll find you teachers." 

"I don't want to just fight," Nie Huaisang mumbles. "Please, let me try other things too." 

"Cultivation and martial arts in the mornings, whatever else you feel like doing in the afternoons," Nie Mingjue offers, only for his brother to break into tears. "Why… What's wrong now?" 

"I didn't think you'd agree," Nie Huaisang sobs. 

That's the last drop. Nie Mingjue crosses the distance between them and pulls his brother into a tight hug. 

For this, too, he can't remember when was the last time he did something like that. Even right after their father's death, Nie Mingjue had been too caught up in grief, guilt and worry to take a moment for his brother. He might have if Nie Huaisang had asked for it but… Nie Huaisang stopped asking for things a long time ago, didn't he? Until today, anyway. 

Studying in the Cloud Recesses is supposed to make boys more obedient but if it made Nie Huaisang a little more assertive instead, his brother won't complain.

[grandmasterofwangxiancultivation]

you were the ones I was meant to find - Lan SiZhui birthday event!

Sooooo, I did a thing.

It’s ot3.

And our main voice is, of course, the birthday boy, Lan SiZhui! HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY! It took me a bit to write/finish this, but I managed! You can read it as standalone or go first for my previous ot3 one shot here, to understand a bit better.

Enjoy or ignore this post :3 | Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Rating: Teen and Up Audience Prompt: Happiness and Family for mdzsnetwork event @modaozushi Pairing: OT3! Jin Ling/Lan SiZhui/Lan JingYi Additional tags: canon Universe, polyamory, disciples ot3, fluff Summary: It wasn't the same without Jin Ling, of course.  They missed him terribly, bones aching with every day spent in his absence -the newly found intimacy of whispers and caresses in the night, the warmth of his body close to theirs, the gleaming look he gave them that morning, when they all woke up in the same bed, thinking this is it, this is right, this is peaceful and electrifying and perfect.

Read under the cut or ao3.

It took them more than a week to organise another night-hunt. Letters were sent back and forth from Cloud Recesses to Koi Tower in elegant writings and concealed words, trepidation locked in the hearts of their authors but hands steady and firm in their movements and intentions.

A comforting thought, to know that they wanted to meet again within the shortest possible time.

The Lan disciples would carry out their duties diligently, mindful of their cultivation and abilities, maintaining a concentration that kept slipping through their fingers every time a detail or the sight of something specific reminded them of that unfilled hole in their chest.

In those moments, profoundly aware of their surroundings and minding that they were alone, JingYi would glance swiftly around them, making sure no one was watching, and then entwine one, two fingers with SiZhui's with delicacy, the smirk on his lips a contrast that made the other boy blush and smile secretively.

They would find a secluded spot between trees and bushes, and SiZhui would indulge in the mischievous glint in JingYi's eyes as he pushed the shorter boy gently against a trunk, large enough to hide their figures, and kiss him until both their trembling legs couldn't sustain them anymore, numb and shaky like their arms and breathes.

The risk of being seen wasn't high -they never ventured in the patrolled areas, nor went out at night, mindful of the essential rules of their clan. But there was no way they could keep their hands to each other when they were alone, lulled by the mountains’ wind threading through the leaves, silencing every thought in their heads, making them shift closer and closer until they were already kissing by the time reason came back to them.

It wasn't the same without Jin Ling, of course.

They missed him terribly, bones aching with every day spent in his absence -the newly found intimacy of whispers and caresses in the night, the warmth of his body close to theirs, the gleaming look he gave them that morning, when they all woke up in the same bed, thinking this is it, this is right, this is peaceful and electrifying and perfect. They had gazed at each other with both the dizziness of being still half asleep in a wonderful dreamland and the awareness that came with the brightness of a new day -that bittersweet reality made of goodbyes, unavoidable but not final.

It had been only one night, but it burned vividly and unscathed in their memories -how in the light and in the dark, Jin Ling had been painfully beautiful and felt scarily afar, untouchable even though they were in the same room.

They loved how at ease their minds and hearts got while they had been together, like nothing could go wrong in the world as long as they held onto each other, and without the Lanling disciple… it was too silent, the sensation of missing too imposing, innatural.

SiZhui and JingYi wanted to see him, so they asked for another night-hunt and got cleared to go a week and a half after the last one.

The memory of that event was still fully present in everyone's head -SiZhui had seen, coming back to Gusu, the blatant relief in Brother Wei's eyes when he had walked toward him and Lan Wangji without so much of a limp or hesitation, letting them know that everything was alright, that he was okay and happy to be home again.

The brush of a hand on his hair, another on his shoulder, and he had felt his heart beat in delight, the warmth of a dream long forgotten and suddenly resumated still sweet on the tip of his tongue, the ground on which he walked solid and reassuring like when Lan WangJi used to stand behind him and teach him how to play the guqin.

Only better, because Senior Wei was there as well. It was hard to call them in a way different from what they had always been, but sometimes he relished in dreams where he called them Father and Dad. It was okay as it was, though -their worrying warmed his heart in a way very few things in his life managed to do.

Sometimes, Lan SiZhui would look at the adoration mildly sparkling in WangJi’s eyes and the mirth and joy shimmering in Brother Wei’s while they are too absorbed in each other to care about people detecting those gazes, and think I want that, too with such a fierce longing and hollowness in his chest that left him feeling bad for days, as if the envy churning in his stomach was an unspeakable sin, something he ought to feel ashamed for.

Now…

He turned on his side, giving his back to the sky through the window he was absentmindedly looking at.

Blood raced in his veins, breath stuck in his throat once again, and he had to swallow a couple of times before he could settle comfortably on the pillow and watch.

JingYi laid on his back, forehead ribbon-free and hair sprawled all over the thin mattress of the room they were occupying while taking care of their mission. His lips were slightly parted, air puffing in and out through them, creating an endearing sight that made SiZhui’s heart flutter wildly. It wasn’t the first time he saw JingYi like this. The boy liked napping next to him, lulled to slumber by SiZhui playing for him during his solo exercise with the guqin. He could clearly remember the consistency of his hair through his fingers -no, they ached to do just that.

On his chest, Jin Ling's slim form was draped above him like a blanket, hair cascading all over them like the finest silk, legs intertwined, the Lan boy's arm circling his waist while the other's right hand was hiding under his shoulder.

He loved looking at them -it was a weakness both he and JingYi shared, it seemed, SiZhui knew from their many talks in the secret corners they claimed for themselves in Cloud Recesses, away from vigil eyes.

(He still remembered when JingYi first confided it, settled on his bed, arms folded under his chin as he cheerfully stared at him, saying I have always watched you two from afar with a fascination in his eyes SiZhui had felt deeply mirrored in his heart.)

His irises probably had a certain wavering quality in the way they were fixated on the scene, as if scared of missing even a single detail. SiZhui was sure, if only he had the possibility of observing himself from the outside in that exact moment, he would probably be reminded a bit of his fathers.

Never had he felt so blessed -or maybe he was just a hopeless romantic, having grown up with stories of fated partners and dual cultivation while growing up in accordance with the Lan rules. In the end, there had been no truer love story than that of Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian as a role model, for him.

He caught a movement with the corner of his eyes.

The Lanling boy was wiggling a bit, sinking in JingYi’s embrace, tucking his nose into his collarbone. Their inner vests slid along their skin, the warmth of the night preserved by their closeness, and SiZhui shifted and bit his lip, embarrassment crawling up his face.

He didn’t avert his eyes, though.

Jin Ling's eyes scrunched a little. A couple of minutes later, they opened, still clouded by sleep but vigil enough to make him instinctively relax at the sight of SiZhui’s gaze locked on him. He smiled, drowsy, eyelids only halfway open.

SiZhui’s pulse leaped up.

“A-Yuan” Jin Ling murmured, making his hand slide on the sheets until it reached his and squeezing it lightly. “Awake already?”

It took SiZhui a while to take the words out of his head and through his mouth.

“I- yes. We rise at five, it’s just… a bit earlier than that” seemed like a good explanation. Jin Ling's lips cracked in a knowing smirk and SiZhui giggled and sent JingYi’s still sleeping face a look.

“Did you watch us until now?”

Not one for lying, SiZhui sputtered and flushed once more, before replying bashfully: “I, uhm, I did, yes”

Jin Ling's eye lit up in awareness, a spark lightning his gaze in that dangerous, obstinate way of his.

SiZhui shivered.

“Come closer?” the boy proposed, tugging him in by his hand, still wrapped in his fingers.

There was no way SiZhui could say no, and he shifted, wary of his building desire to touch the other. He came so close that his arm brushed JingYi’s even when he tried to be mindful of him.

Jin Ling tipped his head to the side, hair following his will and dropping like a curtain, almost inviting SiZhui to run his fingers between every strand -he felt them itch, and clenched his fist for a couple of seconds.

“Is JingYi comfortable?” he asked softly, to distract himself.

Jin Ling huffed to hide the self-consciousness he felt from being reminded of his position.

“He is” came in a mumble, pink lightly dyeing his neck and noble cheekbones. He lowered his face on JingYi’s naked chest and briefly closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

“We talked about you two, yesterday, while you were downstairs with the other disciples” he admitted bashfully.

“Oh, really?” SiZhui managed to say, surprised, head turning and gazing intently at the ceiling.

“Mh” Jin Ling confirmed, his eyes never leaving his form. “He told me how you spent your days in Cloud Recesses, and how much you insisted for this night-hunt” he added, fiddling a bit with JingYi’s robe.

“W-Well, we both wanted to arrange this as soon as possible-”

“-for me” Jin Ling promptly interrupted, and then blushing heavily at inference and force of his words, eyebrows frowning in obstinacy.

“I-I mean, I knew since we have been exchanging letters and planning this for days and I wanted to see you both so much as well-” he stuttered, reluctant to give away the truth and, at the same time, eager to provide a good explanation, avoiding his gaze with embarrassment clear in his voice and irises.

What he said, though, was enough to put a wide, brilliant smile of SiZhui’s face, his features brightening in pure joy, eyes gleaming and complimenting the healthy reddish glow on his cheeks.

In that moment, he felt everything surrounding him all at once -the wind coming through the window, the soft noise from the outside, of people awakening slowly and getting ready for the day, and from the inside, early riser and attendants, probably.

The gentle embrace of sheets half covering him, the protective layer of his inner robe, the warmth that was not only his own, but came from the other two bodies on the bed -and those two bodies, entangled together, bathed in the incoming morning light, a sight so precious and breathtaking, which SiZhui would love to wake up to everyday-

Startled, his smile vanished and he couldn’t manage to look at Jin Ling anymore -but his eyes dropped on his parted lips, and the tenderness of his feelings spiralled away from his thoughts in seconds, a denser, still new sensation invading all his senses.

Jin Ling knew what that heated gaze was hiding -he had been hinting at it, wanting it, desiring it, trying to make himself inviting enough to have SiZhui’s eyes on him like that, with that same barely repressed fervor and an underlying crave matched only by his own. The Lanling boy wasn’t one to sit still or keep quiet when he wanted something, and that hanging, infinite moment wouldn’t be an exception.

He leaned forward, shifting from JingYi’s chest slowly until he could stretch his arms over SiZhui, a hand planted next to his shoulder and the other stroking the Lan boy’s untied hair with nothing short of wonder and resolve in his flaming golden irises.

“Let me kiss you?” he murmured, resolut but coy, fingertips hovering against his temple with vibrating impatience.

“A-Ling” SiZhui could only say, eyes wide and shiny, consent blatant and unequivocal in the loging, aching tone of his voice, in the way his arms reached for Jin Ling as the younger boy descended on him, eager but careful, plenty aware of his lack of experience.

Their lips met and everything in SiZhui shattered, tension leaving his body and building up again. His skin flared fiercely and indomitable as Jin Ling’s tentative, curious lips mapped his own, caressing them with timidity steadily forgotten. Sizhui’s were a bit dry, so he couldn’t help but moan gratefully when Jin Ling licked and nipped at them, a hand coming up to SiZhui’s cheek to keep him immobile while he was exploring.

He didn’t dare move, but every part of his body was visibly quivering.

Jin Ling tried again -his mouth covered his and he breathed SiZhui in, moving his lips with a delicacy that reminded him so much of the Lanling boy and the few, intimate moments their shared.

Now he could add another one.

SiZhui felt like he had given him enough time to taste the thrill of kissing someone -he loved those gentle attention and wanted nothing more than for Jin Ling to be comfortable with him.

He lifted a hand, threading it through his hair and pressing down, making their lips connect a bit more decisively. Jin Ling muffled a startled cry, fingers going down to grip SiZhui on his shoulder, his arm. The Lan boy, smirked and tipped his chin up, poking at those lips with his tongue and nuzzling them with slow, calculated strokes.

SiZhui was no expert in matters regarding the physical side of a relationship, but he and JingYi had been kissing for days, and he -them- had wanted nothing more than to do the same with Jin Ling.

Albeit younger, the Lanling boy didn’t shy away from SiZhui’s throughout attentions -he eagerly draped himself all over the other, opening his mouth gently and groaning satisfactory at the feeling of having him so close, tongue brushing against his, mouths fitting perfectly, breathes mingling and barely keeping up with their racing hearts.

SiZhui flipped him on his back, hands gripping his hips and lips parting once more as the kiss deepened to a soothing, pleasant pace, cosy and slow and a bit off, marked by their inexperience, but all the more exciting for that exact reason. Jin Ling’s fingers trembled as they grazed the skin of the Lan boy’s chest and both painted at the sensation, drifting apart but remaining close, noses brushing against one another.

There weren’t words suitable enough to describe how painstakingly beautiful Jin Ling was like that -how delectable and delicate and alluring and desiderable he was, how much restrain SiZhui had to exercise to bring himself not to go any farther than that.

“SiZhui, JingYi told me that today is-”

“So eager for five in the morning, you two.”

The both jumped at the sound of JingYi’s voice, turning with a hint of embarrassment clear on their faces to look at him.

The other Lan boy appeared smug and amused, with his head propped up on his elbow as if his was enjoying the show -he probably was, if the glint in his eyes was anything to go by. He didn’t lose a moment to get closer and reach for SiZhui, pulling him between him and Jin Ling with a subtle laugh.

“What Jin Ling was going to say-”

“-ehi!”

“-is happy birthday.”

“But I wanted to say that!”

“You were too busy eating up his face! Sorry, beautiful mistress” JingYi winked, and Jin Ling appeared conflicted, stammering while his face went crimson from elation and fury.

“You--!”

SiZhui muffled a laugh and pulled them in a tight embrace, making them all tumble on the wide bed. Kissed them both, calming their spirited words and intense glares, settling with Jin Ling monopolising him by laying down on his chest again -it seemed like that was his favorite spot then the Lan boys were concerned- and JingYi wrapped on his side, playing with his hair and whispering in his ear if he had something to say.

He felt like that simple, quiet moment had the potential to fill him up and making him never sense cold again.

“I’m so happy I got to share this with you” he said, Jin Ling and JingYi’s smiles the best gifts he could ask for, forever stored in the depths of his heart.

[dfroza]

to see life through the baptism eyes of a child

is to be able to see the heavenly Kingdom.

A point that is made in Today’s reading from the book of Matthew:

[Whoever Becomes Simple Again]

At about the same time, the disciples came to Jesus asking, “Who gets the highest rank in God’s kingdom?”

For an answer Jesus called over a child, whom he stood in the middle of the room, and said, “I’m telling you, once and for all, that unless you return to square one and start over like children, you’re not even going to get a look at the kingdom, let alone get in. Whoever becomes simple and elemental again, like this child, will rank high in God’s kingdom. What’s more, when you receive the childlike on my account, it’s the same as receiving me.

“But if you give them a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you’ll soon wish you hadn’t. You’d be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck. Doom to the world for giving these God-believing children a hard time! Hard times are inevitable, but you don’t have to make it worse—and it’s doomsday to you if you do.

“If your hand or your foot gets in the way of God, chop it off and throw it away. You’re better off maimed or lame and alive than the proud owners of two hands and two feet, godless in a furnace of eternal fire. And if your eye distracts you from God, pull it out and throw it away. You’re better off one-eyed and alive than exercising your twenty-twenty vision from inside the fire of hell.

“Watch that you don’t treat a single one of these childlike believers arrogantly. You realize, don’t you, that their personal angels are constantly in touch with my Father in heaven?

[Work It Out Between You]

“Look at it this way. If someone has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders off, doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine and go after the one? And if he finds it, doesn’t he make far more over it than over the ninety-nine who stay put? Your Father in heaven feels the same way. He doesn’t want to lose even one of these simple believers.

“If a fellow believer hurts you, go and tell him—work it out between the two of you. If he listens, you’ve made a friend. If he won’t listen, take one or two others along so that the presence of witnesses will keep things honest, and try again. If he still won’t listen, tell the church. If he won’t listen to the church, you’ll have to start over from scratch, confront him with the need for repentance, and offer again God’s forgiving love.

“Take this most seriously: A yes on earth is yes in heaven; a no on earth is no in heaven. What you say to one another is eternal. I mean this. When two of you get together on anything at all on earth and make a prayer of it, my Father in heaven goes into action. And when two or three of you are together because of me, you can be sure that I’ll be there.”

[A Story About Forgiveness]

At that point Peter got up the nerve to ask, “Master, how many times do I forgive a brother or sister who hurts me? Seven?”

Jesus replied, “Seven! Hardly. Try seventy times seven.

“The kingdom of God is like a king who decided to square accounts with his servants. As he got under way, one servant was brought before him who had run up a debt of a hundred thousand dollars. He couldn’t pay up, so the king ordered the man, along with his wife, children, and goods, to be auctioned off at the slave market.

“The poor wretch threw himself at the king’s feet and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ Touched by his plea, the king let him off, erasing the debt.

“The servant was no sooner out of the room when he came upon one of his fellow servants who owed him ten dollars. He seized him by the throat and demanded, ‘Pay up. Now!’

“The poor wretch threw himself down and begged, ‘Give me a chance and I’ll pay it all back.’ But he wouldn’t do it. He had him arrested and put in jail until the debt was paid. When the other servants saw this going on, they were outraged and brought a detailed report to the king.

“The king summoned the man and said, ‘You evil servant! I forgave your entire debt when you begged me for mercy. Shouldn’t you be compelled to be merciful to your fellow servant who asked for mercy?’ The king was furious and put the screws to the man until he paid back his entire debt. And that’s exactly what my Father in heaven is going to do to each one of you who doesn’t forgive unconditionally anyone who asks for mercy.”

The Book of Matthew, Chapter 18 (The Message)

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 5th chapter of Nehemiah that deals with monetary justice:

[The “Great Protest”]

A great protest was mounted by the people, including the wives, against their fellow Jews. Some said, “We have big families, and we need food just to survive.”

Others said, “We’re having to mortgage our fields and vineyards and homes to get enough grain to keep from starving.”

And others said, “We’re having to borrow money to pay the royal tax on our fields and vineyards. Look: We’re the same flesh and blood as our brothers here; our children are just as good as theirs. Yet here we are having to sell our children off as slaves—some of our daughters have already been sold—and we can’t do anything about it because our fields and vineyards are owned by somebody else.”

I got really angry when I heard their protest and complaints. After thinking it over, I called the nobles and officials on the carpet. I said, “Each one of you is gouging his brother.”

Then I called a big meeting to deal with them. I told them, “We did everything we could to buy back our Jewish brothers who had to sell themselves as slaves to foreigners. And now you’re selling these same brothers back into debt slavery! Does that mean that we have to buy them back again?”

They said nothing. What could they say?

“What you’re doing is wrong. Is there no fear of God left in you? Don’t you care what the nations around here, our enemies, think of you?

“I and my brothers and the people working for me have also loaned them money. But this gouging them with interest has to stop. Give them back their foreclosed fields, vineyards, olive groves, and homes right now. And forgive your claims on their money, grain, new wine, and olive oil.”

They said, “We’ll give it all back. We won’t make any more demands on them. We’ll do everything you say.”

Then I called the priests together and made them promise to keep their word. Then I emptied my pockets, turning them inside out, and said, “So may God empty the pockets and house of everyone who doesn’t keep this promise—turned inside out and emptied.”

Everyone gave a wholehearted “Yes, we’ll do it!” and praised God. And the people did what they promised.

[“Remember in My Favor, O My God”]

From the time King Artaxerxes appointed me as their governor in the land of Judah—from the twentieth to the thirty-second year of his reign, twelve years—neither I nor my brothers used the governor’s food allowance. Governors who had preceded me had oppressed the people by taxing them forty shekels of silver (about a pound) a day for food and wine while their underlings bullied the people unmercifully. But out of fear of God I did none of that. I had work to do; I worked on this wall. All my men were on the job to do the work. We didn’t have time to line our own pockets.

I fed 150 Jews and officials at my table in addition to those who showed up from the surrounding nations. One ox, six choice sheep, and some chickens were prepared for me daily, and every ten days a large supply of wine was delivered. Even so, I didn’t use the food allowance provided for the governor—the people had it hard enough as it was.

Remember in my favor, O my God,

Everything I’ve done for these people.

The Book of Nehemiah, Chapter 5 (The Message)

my personal reading of the Scriptures for Saturday, march 20 of 2021 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible, along with Today’s Psalms and Proverbs

A post by John Parsons that looks at the ancient closing line of Psalm 23:

Where it says, "Surely goodness and mercy (טוֹב וָחֶסֶד) shall follow me all the days of my life" (Psalm 23:6), note the Hebrew verb translated "shall follow me" (i.e., יִרְדְּפוּנִי) comes from a root (i.e., radaf: רָדַף) that means "to pursue," as a hunter chases after his prey. David was sure that God's lovingkindness would "hound" him as he made his way through this world - even in the dark places, even in "the valley of the shadow of death" (בְּגֵיא צַלְמָוֶת) - where God's rod and staff would comfort him and direct his way (Psalm 23:4). Amen, and "may your love, O LORD, be upon us, even as we hope in you." [Hebrew for Christians]

3.19.21 • Facebook

Today’s message from the Institute for Creation Research

March 20, 2021

The Price of Sparrows

“Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.” (Matthew 10:29)

This fascinating bit of first-century pricing information, seemingly so trivial, provides a marvelous glimpse into the heart of the Creator. Of all the birds used for food by the people of those days, sparrows were the cheapest on the market, costing only a farthing for a pair of them. In fact, they cost even less in a larger quantity, for on another occasion Jesus said: “Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God?” (Luke 12:6). The “farthing” was a tiny copper coin of very small value, so a sparrow was all but worthless in human terms.

And yet the Lord Jesus said that God knows and cares about every single sparrow! God had a reason for everything He created; each kind of animal has its own unique design for its own intended purpose. Modern biologists continue to waste time and talent developing imaginary tales about how all these multitudes of different kinds of creatures might have evolved from some common ancestor. Even some evolutionists have started calling these whimsical tales “just so” stories. They would really be better scientists if they would seek to understand the creative purpose of each creature rather than speculating on its imaginary evolution.

The better we comprehend the amazing complexity and purposive design of each creature, the better we realize the infinite wisdom and power of their Creator. Then all the more wonderful it is to learn that their Creator is our Father! He has placed them all under our dominion, and we need to learn to see them through His eyes if we would be good stewards of the world He has committed to us. We can also thank our heavenly Father that we “are of more value than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:31). HMM

[gunnarbloodblade]

A Dark Turn.

Autgar Bloode made his way around the corner dagging what looked to be like a battered and beaten Garlean, half stripped and drooling everywhere. He huffed and glanced around before stopping and staring at Gunnar.. "You're not who I was looking for..."

Gunnar Bloodblade blinked with his one exposed eye, then frowned. "...and I was not expecting you. Still -- this is a happy coincidence, don't you think?" He glanced down at the poor Garlean and twisted his mouth. "Though your taste in back-alley company is lacking."

Autgar Bloode: "He was for a demonstration of something for whichever Armstrong I could find first... had something I wanted to show them." He stared at Gunnar. "Not sure happy coincidence is the phrase I'd run with but... maybe you can answer this for me since I can't seem to find either of them."

Gunnar Bloodblade 's eyebrow lifted for a moment, then he made an allowing gesture with his left hand. "I'll humour you."

Autgar Bloode sniffed before dragging the Garlean up and striking him across the face to bring him back to the realm of the living. He clasped a hand over the man's mouth and a good portion of his face. Soon after that the Highlander seemed to be ripping aether from the Garlean -- he drained the man dry and dropped the limp body onto the stone. He took a large breath as he put the aether into his reserves before opening his eyes and glancing at Gunnar. "Is that... normal? Or should I stop doing it? ‘Cause I've been told it's kind of a voidsent thing to do." 

Gunnar Bloodblade 's eye stared in a most unsavoury fashion, yet fascinated and impressed nonetheless. "The growth of you and your ilk is something I could not have imagined," He murmured, "I would not recommend doing it where other eyes can see...but the transfer of aether is not exclusive to voidsent."

Autgar Bloode: "So that is not exclusively a technique tied to the Root?"

Gunnar Bloodblade: "It reminds me of the third shadow more than any other...but I don't think so, no. Whilst you have the power for it through your chakras, the technique isn't exclusively tied to them."

Autgar Bloode: "That's something I'm really lacking knowledge on.. I wish it weren't the case."

Gunnar Bloodblade: "It won't matter. I don't intend to leave you alive long enough for it to make a difference."

Autgar Bloode: "Is that a threat for now or just in the future?"

Gunnar Bloodblade shifted his jaw to the side. "...when I saw you, I decided to kill you...but that technique has interested me. I'll admit, I've never been able to siphon so...completely. So you live, for now. I want to find out how it works."

Autgar Bloode: "You're kinda fucked up. But whatever gives me more time to train for when you and yours come after me."

Gunnar Bloodblade smirked. "Train with who, exactly?"

Autgar Bloode let out a low growl. "I'm going to guess you're the reason why I haven't seen or heard form either of my teachers lately?"

Gunnar Bloodblade: "I'm the reason why you'll never hear from them again."

Autgar Bloode: "That raises a few questions, most importantly though, why kill me? If you've killed them doesn't it mean you've won?"

Gunnar Bloodblade wrinkled his nose. "Because you're persistent, and determined." A hesitant pause, "And powerful. A dangerous loose end to keep running around for too long."

Autgar Bloode: "So rather than try and recruit me again since my other options are gone, you just wanna kill me because my traits that give me strength annoy you?"

Gunnar Bloodblade exhaled in exasperation. "Come now. At this point would you really join me? I would be surprised to hear yes -- I measured you otherwise."

Autgar Bloode: "I'm surprised too but, you've not really left with much of an option here Gunnar. You killed my other teachers. So as I see it I have a few options here.. if you'll humor me."

Gunnar Bloodblade nodded once. "Go on."

Autgar Bloode: "I can die at your hands in one final act of defiance. I can continue to learn with the other Fists which, if you sat at one of those meetings you'd know why that isn't a viable option, they're children. There's continue to learn, but from you and yours. Or lastly.. stop growing as a monk and constantly be stuck asking myself bullshit 'what if' questions."

Autgar Bloode: "We are very different people. But from what I've come to understand about monkhood and the Destroyer since becoming one, is that being different can be beneficial and offer perspective. Or at the very least benefit the both of us till someone dies."

Gunnar Bloodblade: "Those options all sound very dire. If I do decide to instruct you, what will there be for me to gain?"

Autgar Bloode: "I'm not a snake like Ulfarr."

Gunnar Bloodblade cracked a nasty little smile. "That's a plus already. He's straying from the path, and I'll need a replacement in the event he becomes any more useless than he already is. Though, there is one other promising candidate. I would need to be convinced that you are better." The smile grew.

Autgar Bloode: "Both sides have their tests.. I imagine you want this to be decided through combat?"

. Gunnar Bloodblade: "Naturally. I shall send a time and location to your place of employ. Best my other disciple, and I will teach you so, so much more than the Armstrongs ever could."

Autgar Bloode: "I haven't met this other student before have I?"

Gunnar Bloodblade shook his head. "No. I've kept him tucked away. If you beat him...then you're as worthy as I suspect. If you do not, then you would simply be refuse dealt with appopriately."

Autgar Bloode: "I'll be sure to keep that in mind in the fight..."

Gunnar Bloodblade stepped closer and -- stared. Once over, twice over, inspected head to toe. "...I would be delighted for a kinsman to surpass him." Autgar Bloode: "... It's not a lizard is it?"

Gunnar Bloodblade: "Hellsguard. I respect them, but..." he made a gesture with his hand. "Our blood is far superior."

Autgar Bloode: "... you know I heard a legend that we come from Hyur and Hellsguard mixing."

Gunnar Bloodblade: "Which would only mean that we're made of the best of both. But nay, we are as we are because we adapt, we persevere." He looked rather enthusiastic about the topic of hyur superiority, but then waved himself off, "But these are things I cannot speak among others."

Autgar Bloode: "Well.. I'm a native son of Gyr Abania. Born and raised here till my escape and now here I am, breaking skulls where I can."

Gunnar Bloodblade -- twitched. Just a little, but it was there. "You would really study under me?"

Autgar Bloode: "I can't promise I wouldn't one day try and kill you. Especially should anything ever happen to Pav. But right now? It's in the best interest of you, me, and Gyr Abania herself. So yes, I would."

Gunnar Bloodblade 's twitch repeated, but this time it grew into an eager, hungry smile. "Those terms are very much agreeable." He looked down at the Garlean. "You can leave him here. I'll dispose of him."

Autgar Bloode: "... You're not gonna eat him are you?"

Gunnar Bloodblade: "I'd sooner drink the piss of an aldgoat. No. Consider it a show of good faith."

Autgar Bloode: "One more thing."

Gunnar Bloodblade: "Yes?"

Autgar Bloode: "How does this look? I tried making something.. somewhat monk-ish and good for the enviorment."

Gunnar Bloodblade blinked, then grimaced. "I don't ca--" His mouth clapped shut and he grunted. "Strong. Imposing. Attractive. It suits you."

Autgar Bloode blinked and nodded at Gunnar. "I didn't expect a real answer.. Well, alright. Thank you for the.. lovely chat. I'll be waiting for the specifics on your plaything."

Gunnar Bloodblade: "I'll not tarry on that then. Travel savely. Smite all in your path."

Autgar Bloode: "Destoryer smite our foes..."

Autgar Bloode blinked a few more times and slowly moved to exit the alley.. guilty and confused.

Gunnar Bloodblade turned around to walk deep into the alley, rubbing at the side of his head with a trembling hand. His grin was manic.

(( @dynamitecowboy ))