un: absterge | video

[downswing]

( Dark and damp and Lan Wangji's pallor strained under moonlight. Behind him, flickers of broad, long temple columns — and the smoke smears of... ghosts, gathered. He seems short of breath, the silvered sheen of his sword half drawn from her scabbard, a spate of parchment papers littering the walls: active talismans. )

They have crowded their halls of the dead, to excess.

Here, the key withholds itself. Who hunts the other locations?

( And a pause, hesitant — whether to find his words or, absently, slap another talisman on the spirit that looms with a gaping maw behind him. ) Ke-Waihu stands safe?

( ooc: forwarded dated to the group's incursions in Ke-Waicai. Feel free to run into him in person, if you're also chasing the haunted temple key! )

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action;

[fushichou]

[So. While Kanesada has done more on missions than straight up fighting, he still doesn't try to make a habit of thievery.

But sometimes you just gotta. And that Sang-hoon guy? Talking about human sacrifices and all that? Well, surely that can't be allowed to fly.

So he ends up at this temple which turns out to be significantly more haunted than any temple he's been in. He's not a sword who has history with ghosts or any kind of ghost-hunting skills, either.

He can be a little stealthy, though, despite the bright colors he wears or his height, so he sticks to the shadows and keeps an eye out for anything more corporeal. Which is how he finds a man in white, though it seems he's been having a rough go of it.

Kanesada freezes for a moment, but then approaches with a hand on the hilt of his sword. He Whispers, loudly.]

Hey, you're not dead, are you?

[downswing]

( Sixteen years, defunct in spirit. A lifetime — that of his son. Increasingly closer to expiry with each upturn of Jiang Wanyin's lip. Driven south of his life expectancy's threshold whenever Five crosses a road, or Anduin murmurs sweet, innocent nothings destined for murderous revelation, or perhaps Xie Lian casts a maudlin glance the way of a spoon.

But living, still, hand hard on his sword's hilt when step resonates beside him — until the inevitable introduction. )

Nor possessed of the key.

( So, you know. Some losses, some gains. )

[fushichou]

[His grip loosens somewhat, though he still stays on guard. He doesn't know the layout of this place or who all may inhabit it, living or not. But this man still lives and that's good news.]

Right. We can fix that. I can't help you if you're dead.

[That's pretty much a one-way street, as far as he's aware.

But they have a common goal and they need to carry it out.]

If this key is such a treasure, they're probably keeping it in the innermost portion of the temple. You got any plan for getting it?

[downswing]

( The plan — as another talisman blitzes and blows past and sinks a looming spirit — is to not litter his weight in parchment.

The plan is also to survive, perhaps possessed of critical metal.

The plan, hereby enforced as word of leadership — for all the universe, all powers that be, several cultivation sects and every friendly contingent of nuzzling rabbits should know better than to entrust with Lan Wangji — is: )

The phantasms are too scattered for inquiry. ( Spirits old, rendered piecemeal, stripped of ancient awareness. To heed them is to heed maddened fingerprints in sand picked by wind. ) But they gather south. We search each hall.

( There are only... dozens. )

[fushichou]

[Okay, yeah, these spirits are pretty, uh, prevalent. Kanesada frowns, but quickly takes off his blue mantle and twists it, flicking it at some of the more curious ghosts.

Listen. Stabbing them isn't going to do any good. Maybe he can blow them away!]

You think they're congregating around the key? Let's head south, then!

[downswing]

( He thinks they have no other means to verify his suspicion than to take this path, and so, spirits howling —

Southbound, step brisk and manner like a sword cutting through cloths for a first draw's trial, when the blade is sharpest, quickest. Beside him, the man seems sincere in his progress, knowing of how to comport himself in infiltration.

...which is to say, unlike the majority of their companions, he does not immediately trip, nor fall. )

You bear weapon? Skills of combat? ( A pause, then, softened: ) Of shielding?

( ...sir, can you hide as rats do. )

[fushichou]

[Where this man goes, Kanesada is sure to follow. He's quick on his feet despite not being small or unassuming, but also quiet enough. Sneaky isn't a word he'd use to describe himself, though, but he manages.

When they have a moment to speak, Kanesada listens, then pats the hilt of the sword at his hip.]

I won't say I'm the best swordsman, but I'm pretty damn good. I'm better at fighting than hiding, so if you need me to cause a distraction, that's an option.

[downswing]

( There is an edge to his hesitation, a learning. As if a man's pride, properly perceived, need not be crushed underfoot like scattered motes of burned dust.

He holds himself back. )

We dally among the dead.

( In case... the wisps of smoke and ghostly silhouette failed to give Kanesada his notice. Time and trial have taught Lan Wangji the ample benefits of sooner assuming his companions are struck by blindness, malady or Jin foolishness than otherwise. )

You know to distract them?