lan_wangji (
lan_wangji) wrote in
asgardchrysalis2020-03-09 04:20 pm
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Who: Lan Wangji and Everyone and Anyone
What: Lan Wangji is has the flu and is pretending he does not have the flu as he's never actually been sick before due to being a super boss wizard back home. He is not amused.
When: Timed for March 8th
Where: around Asgard
Warnings: Ridiculous behavior from a grown man.
Lan Wangji has seen the healer in Asgard once, on his first day, and only under duress. He'd had an open wound and it was festering and in his relief to find Wei Wuxian alive and well he likely would have agreed to anything. There have been trips afterwards but related to Wei Wuxian's own injuries but that is where Lan Wangji has drawn the line. The Lan Sect does not fall ill to common ailments. Sickness of the body (separate from one's magic) is weak and a failure on the part of the cultivator. He cannot help still feel this way.
But he threw up in an alleyway and isn't certain where he is, so he may need to find a better place to hide his newfound failure.
He'd thought exercise and fresh air would help. He thinks. His memory is muddled and he is strangely sweaty despite the cool weather. Meditation had proven fruitless so this is surely the right recourse but he had overestimated his endurance. He's uncertain he's properly managed to do his hair but he knows his ribbon is in place as it is the only spot on his forehead that is currently cool. He must get home. This was a mistake. Wei Ying will find him and fuss at him and make him visit the healer. He turns, trying to gauge through sore, bleary eyes where he is when he finds himself sitting down suddenly on the ground. He is unsure why his legs have done this, why they have betrayed him. He hates them.
What: Lan Wangji is has the flu and is pretending he does not have the flu as he's never actually been sick before due to being a super boss wizard back home. He is not amused.
When: Timed for March 8th
Where: around Asgard
Warnings: Ridiculous behavior from a grown man.
Lan Wangji has seen the healer in Asgard once, on his first day, and only under duress. He'd had an open wound and it was festering and in his relief to find Wei Wuxian alive and well he likely would have agreed to anything. There have been trips afterwards but related to Wei Wuxian's own injuries but that is where Lan Wangji has drawn the line. The Lan Sect does not fall ill to common ailments. Sickness of the body (separate from one's magic) is weak and a failure on the part of the cultivator. He cannot help still feel this way.
But he threw up in an alleyway and isn't certain where he is, so he may need to find a better place to hide his newfound failure.
He'd thought exercise and fresh air would help. He thinks. His memory is muddled and he is strangely sweaty despite the cool weather. Meditation had proven fruitless so this is surely the right recourse but he had overestimated his endurance. He's uncertain he's properly managed to do his hair but he knows his ribbon is in place as it is the only spot on his forehead that is currently cool. He must get home. This was a mistake. Wei Ying will find him and fuss at him and make him visit the healer. He turns, trying to gauge through sore, bleary eyes where he is when he finds himself sitting down suddenly on the ground. He is unsure why his legs have done this, why they have betrayed him. He hates them.
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With his near rigid schedule, his absence from the courtyard is worrying indeed, and Wei Wuxian takes hold of Little Apple's bit and drags her bodily towards the river. Has Lan Zhan taken his meal there instead? He was sniffling yesterday, not at all as stealthily as he seemed to think. He might be ill. He might, by some unlikely miracle be at the healers even now, he might - oh.
No, he's sitting in the road, looking like a pale, slumped-over winter tree.
"Lan Zhan!" Wei Wuxian calls in alarm, dropping Little Apple's bit to rush to him.
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He opens his mouth to ask what is wrong, what has Wei Ying's face in such alarm but then he realizes he is seated in the middle of the path towards the river and knows he has miscalculated.
"Fine," he murmurs, trying to push himself up, as if that will be enough to simply drop the matter. He can feel beads of sweat trickling down his face despite how cold he suddenly feels. It's disgusting. "M'Fine. Is, is Wei Ying fine?"
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Little Apple, a saint, plods near, and Wei Wuxian maneuvers Lan Wangji upright. "You need medicine."
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He thinks he may have forgotten to comb it.
"Does Wei Ying want breakfast?" he manages, imagining it must still be near breakfast time.
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"Parading about in the cold will make you worse," he says. "Do you want to feel worse?"
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"Not parading. Curing," he mutters, tugging at his wrists weakly and wondering it he could just roll himself off and be dragged. It might be preferable.
His eyes widen as he realizes they are headed towards neither of their dormitories nor their house and he begins to tug harder. "No. No, no, no."
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"Need to get stronger, need to practice and it will go away," he sighs, simply running out of air as his head thumps onto the back of Little Apple's neck, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to gather himself together. He simply feels so, so ill.
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"I threw up on the street," he says softly. "People saw."
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Catching Little Apple's bit, he steers them past Frigghaus' gates. "You can't train away illness, Lan Zhan. Normal people aren't like cultivators." Were they home, he has no doubt Lan Zhan could destroy a fever with both his magic and his considerable will, but they aren't home. "Getting ill isn't a sign of weakness. It's just what it means to be human."
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"Illness of the body is against Lan principles," he whispers, knowing he is being irrational but struggling just the same. "Don't let them keep me in there all night. Just medicines, Wei Ying. Nothing else," he pleads.
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He sweeps his thumbs against his cheekbones before releasing him. "You are the bravest man I know, Lan Zhan. You can manage a few moments with a healer. And," he adds, more gently, "I'll be there the entire time."
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Uncle might find this even more undignified than he and Wei Ying's recent behavior.
"Wei Ying," he intones, as he notices pieces of hair fluttering into his face. He knows his ribbon made it on but he cannot remember much else about his morning grooming routine. "Is my hair messy?" He turns wide, aching eyes on him once more. He threw up in public with messy hair and then fell onto the ground.
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(Also, being sick is very very gross. Luckily, he's gotten slightly more used to that part of being among the living.)
Bare bony feet are clattering over, sticklike fingers on the guy's shoulders... "Wangji! Hey! What happened? Can you stand?"
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He nods with a false sense of confidence and pushes himself up, only stumbling a little. "Not sick," he blurts out, not at all what he'd meant to say.
"Just, just sitting. Hello, Master Hector."
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Thank the magic of Asgard for keeping him in one piece, for bringing him up to the strength of a skinny old living man. Most people lost their abilities and normal strength, but he actually gained something by ending up here!
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He raises a hand, summoning a weak, wobbling orb of light and immediately regretting it as his energy wanes.
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"Nothing to be ashamed off, every living person gets sick at some point. Come on, let's go."
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Chaos has descended.
"Where, where are we going?" he asks, stumbling only a little as he turns towards Hector. "Exercise?"
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"I can almost believe that, the way you're acting. Personally, I don't believe in exercise. Big waste of time for skeletons."
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There is so much Lan Zhan does not know. He is so ignorant about skeleton men.
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He's tugging at the other man--come on, move your feet. "And if I did, I'd go right to my room and sleep it off. No exercising."
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Oh well.
Too late.
"Is it lonely, being the only skeleton man?"
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Or so he remembers it feeling. He's never refreshed anymore. Always, always tired. Getting old (being forgotten--) sucks. "And no, not really. I'm as human as everyone else, I can't say I'm alone. Though I do miss seeing friendly, normal looking faces."