xiao xingchen. (
starscaped) wrote in
jiangshan2020-01-20 07:55 pm
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i'm looking at the cosmos
WHO: xue yang and xiao xingchen. ( song lan later? )
WHERE: on a dirty, bloody road.
WHEN: sweats
WHAT: first meetings
WARNINGS: dont quote me, but probably nsfw knowing me
( if the moon had a voice, she'd surely tell xiao xingchen that he's out far too late tonight to be wandering the beaten path on his own. she might be wise, then, but she doesn't have the same natural inclinations that he does. she's a beacon, and the tides follow her call — xingchen is just a wave, searching for his moon in the chilly midnight air, the soulful creaks of the forest calling his name towards their depths.
his eyes remain devout, searching for song lan. the red string tied around his pointer finger glows eerily red in the bleak nightfall, illuminating a path onward, its shine detailing song lan has been wounded, somewhere. he follows the trail like so many waves chasing moonlight, mind alert on the surface but otherwise lost for what might've gotten him.
he doesn't, as a noteworthy mention, realize the string is tied to his opposite hand.
this is how he stumbles across a man in a field, looking bloodied and broken from what must've been a savage fight. xingchen can't explain the way the red knots of their fingers meet up like broken butterfly wings, or how looking at him is like seeing song lan for the first time — how strange and curious and concerning a world like this is, where so many pieces of a puzzle already aligned, fall directly out of place. a boy in his lap bleeding on shaking fingers.
it isn't a question to him about helping — in the cover of night and without much choice, he sets up a new camp somewhere further off a direct road, carrying xue yang in his arms and finding a shallow cave to spend the night in. when xue yang comes to, he's draped with xingchen's outer robes, the blood washed from the cake of his face, the wounds along his body sewn and wrapped as best as xingchen was able. there he is too, a collected stranger, tending to a fire that burns between them. )
WHERE: on a dirty, bloody road.
WHEN: sweats
WHAT: first meetings
WARNINGS: dont quote me, but probably nsfw knowing me
( if the moon had a voice, she'd surely tell xiao xingchen that he's out far too late tonight to be wandering the beaten path on his own. she might be wise, then, but she doesn't have the same natural inclinations that he does. she's a beacon, and the tides follow her call — xingchen is just a wave, searching for his moon in the chilly midnight air, the soulful creaks of the forest calling his name towards their depths.
his eyes remain devout, searching for song lan. the red string tied around his pointer finger glows eerily red in the bleak nightfall, illuminating a path onward, its shine detailing song lan has been wounded, somewhere. he follows the trail like so many waves chasing moonlight, mind alert on the surface but otherwise lost for what might've gotten him.
he doesn't, as a noteworthy mention, realize the string is tied to his opposite hand.
this is how he stumbles across a man in a field, looking bloodied and broken from what must've been a savage fight. xingchen can't explain the way the red knots of their fingers meet up like broken butterfly wings, or how looking at him is like seeing song lan for the first time — how strange and curious and concerning a world like this is, where so many pieces of a puzzle already aligned, fall directly out of place. a boy in his lap bleeding on shaking fingers.
it isn't a question to him about helping — in the cover of night and without much choice, he sets up a new camp somewhere further off a direct road, carrying xue yang in his arms and finding a shallow cave to spend the night in. when xue yang comes to, he's draped with xingchen's outer robes, the blood washed from the cake of his face, the wounds along his body sewn and wrapped as best as xingchen was able. there he is too, a collected stranger, tending to a fire that burns between them. )
no subject
If the entirety of his existence hasn't just been one long joke to those who look down on them from above.
Cold and darkness sets in, carries him from a world that's never spared him an ounce of love.
...and then warmth returns.
There's still a clammy chill settled in his bones, but the heat from the fire is the first thing he notices as consciousness returns. There's pain, but it's a dull, all-over ache that barely registers to someone who lives as recklessly as Xue Yang does. When he opens his eyes, it takes a few seconds for his vision to come into focus, and at first all he sees is something otherworldly and ethereal. He has to wonder if this is the other side after all, for something so soft, so light to exist, half dressed and tending the campfire.
Frowning, he tries to sit up only to let out a low hiss of pain as he puts pressure on his stitches, laying back again with a noise of frustration. Having fully given himself away, he trains his gaze back on the stranger, feeling exposed without his sword. Trust is not a thing Xue Yang knows. To him, it doesn't matter if this stranger brought him back from death's door, or if he's the singular most beautiful thing Xue Yang has ever witnessed. Danger is the only constant of his world. ]
...pretty strange hobby you have here.
no subject
Hobby ...?
( he asks, scooting across the fire on his knees to get closer to him, although there's still a bit of fair space between them. he pulls a wrapped piece of bread from the sleeve of his inner robe and, not getting too close to him, tosses it in his direction. he offers a small smile, somewhere in between warm and pleading. )
My name is Xiao Xingchen. I found you on the road, though — you might say I was drawn to you. It's ... the strangest thing.
( he lifts his left hand and shows a neatly tied knot, the extent of a bioluminescent guiding string connecting back to xue yang's own finger. )
no subject
The last time this happened to him it was just Yu Lian up to their bullshit as they like to be, but this encounter has been the complete reverse of that, so if it's some kind of con he's completely missing Xiao Xingchen's angle. ]
...yeah that's new to me to. I've never— [ —had anyone, belonged anywhere, known the meaning of love— ] —cared much about this kind of thing.
[ He stares at the string still half in disbelief and gives a short laugh. ]
You got some terrible kind of luck to be connected to me.
[ Absently, starts on eating that bread since there's pretty much nothing that can put off his appetite and he's not going to question this part too much. Someone feeding him is someone feeding, no matter the extenuating circumstances. ]
no subject
frowning, he pulls the hairpiece from his topknot, passing it from hand to hand, almost nervously. )
It's strange because —
( he pierces a finger suddenly with the sharp, needlepoint tip of his hair piece, drawing a single drop of blood. it's not enough pain to make the color linger on his end for very long, but it's long enough that he can lift up both hands and show them to xue yang, a knot tied around each pointer finger, a second string briefly lighting up to the outside of their cave before it disappears with the hush of a wind. )
I've already — that is, I'm already spoken for. How can someone have two ...?
no subject
He's heard of people having more than one bond, but only ever in rumor. He's never witnessed such a thing himself, barely believed in such a thing as love or even affection between the blight upon the world that is humanity. Liars and fools are all he sees, and though he's determined to be one who lies over one who is lied to, he's never cared for telling this particular lie. Leave that to Yu Lian, Xue Yang doesn't need it. Doesn't even know how he'd begin to fake it, even with all the time he's spent around his friend.
Lips pursed, he focuses his energy to make the string between them flare, giving a startled blink when it actually appears. ]
I'm sure even Heaven makes mistakes.
[ The line between them gets a flat stare and cold smile as it fades again, Xue Yang finishing off his bread in a few short bites. ]
I wouldn't worry about it, but thanks for the save.
no subject
well. technically he is, so maybe he wouldn't be. )
I believe in fate.
( not in mistakes. everything happens for a reason, and so even this strange occurrence must be for some higher purpose. xingchen sucks the blood off the tip of his finger carefully, eyeing his work after cleaning the area. clearly, this isn't the first time he's done such a stupid move. )
You should recover here, for the night. I wouldn't move in your condition, but if you insist, I can help lead you where you need to go.
( they're tied together, after all. it's what anyone would do. )
And you're welcome. Ah. You — ( he flusters a bit, moving wood around the fire for something to do. ) You didn't tell me your name.
no subject
What does he have to lose? ]
Xue Yang. [ He pauses then, waiting to see any reaction to the name, any kind of recognition. He's of some notoriety these days, after all. Then, slowly, he goes on. ]
...say, Xiao Xingchen. It's a little cold...