un: absterge | video, might as well get a show with your wake-up

[downswing]

( The stage, set: pale dawns drowning fair maiden Emilia's boudoir, mid-invasion. The lady, aghast, but bravely holding back (onto?) Wrath — one of three gentlemen drenched in chimney soot for their orgy visit.

RIP: four porcelain bowls shattered on the floor, a wall stabbed with dining cutlery, a decapitated statue, inked parchment (protective, silent) littered on the balcony and ceiling spreads. A table broke its back to sweeten Jiang Cheng's fall. The man himself lies sprawled or scratching (unclear). Chimney bricks are still coughing down into the fireplace.

In the midst of the chaos, a dishevelled Lan Wangji — perched precipitously on the back of a chair — calls for silence. A heartbeat later, he sets the communicator closer to the balcony, so that everyone who neglected to turn off their device overnight can bask in the shouting and screaming of anti-Macaluso protesters outside.

Enjoy a minute of that. Violence is good for the ears. )

The lady's quarters — ( ...quite. ) ...lack vantage. What stokes their anger?

( And then, an awkward pause later: )

Morning's greetings.

( ooc: backdated to the first day of protests. Enjoy your 5:10am wake-up call, in between the ruckus of Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji and Wrath slipping down the wrong chimney into Emilia's quarters, and Macaludo's protesters raising a storm. Just. Enjoy that. )

Comments

[wenderer]

[ He is quiet also, regulating his internal energy so that his emotions won't overwhelm him. After a while, he thinks he ought to say something ridiculous, something to break the tension between them, when Zhou Zishu says... that.

Asking what the wine tastes like, as if he'll never be able to taste it himself, aren't these the words of a dying man? That his Ah Xu, often so caustic, is confessing this frailty, this vulnerability to him... ]

Like fruit, melons and apples, with the fragrance of flowers, though it smells sweeter than it tastes.

[ Though his voice is even, he can't keep the tears from welling. Still holding Zhou Zishu with one arm, he turns his head to wipe the tears away, then reaches for his cup and downs the wine in one gulp. ]