Station Catch-all

[singlelogbridge]

CHARACTERS: Wei Wuxian and You!
LOCATION: Around the station
DATE: 4-19 through next mission
CONTENT: Wei Wuxian catching up with people, being the worst patient in existence, and misc.
WARNINGS: Will be updated as needed.


Sunlight room

[On the third day back at the station, Wei Wuxian makes an escape. That is to say, he hobbles away from the infirmary and sneaks past watchful eyes, slipping into the hallway and making his way to the sunlight room. He only wobbles a little as he walks, and only has to stop and prop himself up on the wall twice, which as far as he's concerned, is an achievement. The stab wound from Venom's claw has been healed almost entirely so he's really not in danger of anything serious. It's just his aching ribs, still healing arm, and more than the others, his concussion that keeps him moving slowly and carefully. His vision still sways a little bit as he moves, but that's what walls are for.

If no one interrupts him, he makes it all the way to the sunlight room and lets out a soft sigh upon his arrival, after which he promptly collapses onto the ground. It's fine, he meant to do this. Please ignore the man lying face down on the grass. He is comfortable just the way he is.]


Lab

[He's asleep in the lab. Thankfully there aren't any vials of chemicals out where he's pillowed his head on his arms and passed out, but he is still very much asleep on one of the chairs, the upper half of his body sprawled across a lab table, completely unconscious.]

Training

[One week after returning to the station, Wei Wuxian is back in the training room. Instead of any kind of target practice or physical training, he is sitting on the floor with dozens of talismans spread out around him. His hands and one of his cheeks are ink stained, but he pays it no mind. A dozen talismans lie crumpled into paper balls beside him.

He draws a brush from the ink stone beside him and adds several characters and symbols to the talisman he's working on. When he's finished his adjustments, he stands, unable to repress a flinch, and fixes his eyes on the training dummy in front of him. With a quick flick of his wrist, the talisman lands straight on the dummy and—does absolutely nothing.

With a dramatic groan, Wei Wuxian sinks back to the floor and grabs the brush to start working again.]


Wildcard me!!!

((ooc:He's recovering from a concussion, broken arm, and cracked ribs, but will be up and about the station by day 4 of their return.))

Comments

I do what I want

[construing]

Here, try this one on.

[ from the other side of the pile of supplies, gwen lightly tosses wei wuxian another pair of loose pants. (she tossed him jeans exactly once. one would have thought she was trying to murder him with denim.)

she might have liked to sleep in, but unlike her access to the symbiote's bespoke outfits on demand, wei wuxian has exactly one (1) set of clothes here. which necessitated a climb over, around, and through the supplies.

a little growing pile sits to the side, comprised of the few pieces of clothing wei wuxian didn't immediately question, various hygiene products for both of them, a set of bath bombs gwen is excited to break into later, and most importantly, a whole drum kit. she forgot she had asked viveca for it.

her head turns as if listening to a call only she can hear. ] What? Oh!

[ nearby, black spiders work together to free a red piece of cloth from the rest. gwen lifts it up in the air like a trophy. ]

Found a robe!

[singlelogbridge]

[He's got one leg in the new pair of pants (the process made harder by the fact that he's putting them on over his existing pant) when her exclamation catches his interest. He narrows his eyes, immediately suspicious.]

More jeans? [But then he sees her find and his expression brightens, relief spreading across his face.]

Oh! [He makes his way over to her, dropping a few of his own finds to check the robes out for himself. They're of similar quality to what he wore back home, and red to boot.] I like them. [He flashes her a grin.]

I found some things too. Not robes.

[construing]

[ the sweater looks very softe™. so she touches it and, when her hypothesis is proven correct, rubs a sleeve against her cheek. ]

Oh, that's nice.

[ no, she's not going to steal his sweater one day. why?? would you think?? she would do that?

gwen hands off their finds to venom who stretches a long black tendril like a tentacle to drop them off on top of their growing pile. ]

We should find you shoes while we're here, [ she says as she grabs a shoebox. heels. no from her, and she's claiming the privilege and declining on his behalf too. ]

What size are you? [ asks the new yorker of the ancient chinese wizard who doesn't know american shoe sizes. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[He's never going to keep a fuzzy sweater for more than two weeks, is he?

He glances down at his boots. He has shoes? Although some slippers might be nice. At her question, he stares at her with one eyebrow raised, and then smirks mischievously.]

One hundred and seventy seven centimeters which is above average I think. I was always taller than most of my peers, but a handful were a few centimeters taller than me.

[construing]

[ gwen looks at him, then into the middle distance. ]

That one’s on me, I didn’t specify.

Sunlight room

[spacedisaster]

[ On the third day back at the station, Peter has been cooking not only for himself but for other people. He got into the habit of doing this almost every time they go back to the station because it's less exhausting than training, but it keeps his mind busy all the same.

He comes to the sunlight room with a basket to enjoy his mean under the artificial sun, happy to share food with others if they want a snack. Alas, when he gets to his favorite spot, Wei Wuxian is already there. Face down. Looking as good as dead. Cue Peter panicking and dropping to his knees to check on him. ]

Wei Wuxian! Dude! Are you okay? Talk to me. What happened?

[singlelogbridge]

[From the pile of man on the grass: a grunt, a lazy hand wave, and with gargantuan effort, he rolls over onto his back.]

I'm fine, I'm fine! Just resting. [He grins and then flops an arm over his face.]

It's very comfortable down here, I swear. Oh! [Upon suddenly remembering it could be more comfortable, he pulls a fist sized pouch from his robes, reaches inside of it up to his elbow, and tugs a giant fluffy pillow out of it. Grinning, he shoves the pillow beneath his head and lies back down.]

Much better. [He grins.] What brings you here?

[spacedisaster]

Man, I thought you were dead! Don't scare me like that. [ Peter grumbles and purses his lips in a way the other Guardians would call 'pouting' and Peter will deny that it is such a thing until the day he dies. Seeing how Wèi Wúxiàn seems to be perfectly happy chilling on the ground, even if he looks tired, Peter sits down properly as well, right next to him. He huffs out a laugh when ]

It's that one of those magic bags that are bigger on the inside, and you can fit pretty much anything in there? Xichen has one. I need to get myself one of those too. I'd carry so much stuff....but for now I have this. [ He holds up the basket for Wèi Wúxiàn to see. ]

I came to enjoy the sun and have lunch. You hungry? I've got plenty of food to share.

[singlelogbridge]

[Dragging himself up into a sitting position, he only flinches a little, closing his eyes to let the room finish spinning before he fixes Peter with a grin.]

Food and good company? Who could turn that offer down! [He pulls the qiankun pouch out again and holds it out for Peter to see.]

It's extremely useful. It starts out as a normal pouch and then special arrays are sewn into the fabric that lend it its powers. I've yet to make one myself, but I've been thinking about figuring out how it's done so that I can.

[spacedisaster]

[ Since Peter is watching him closely, he doesn't miss the flinching. Something is clearly not right about Wèi Wúxiàn, but perhaps the man, like him, doesn't like infirmaries much. ]

It's a good way to get back your energy, too. I know the sun here is not real but is the best next thing we have. [ As he talks, Peter also starts pulling stuff out of the basket and organizing it between them: a soft picnic blanket, come cutlery, napkins, and containers with food. When Wèi Wúxiàn lets him have a loo, Peter leans in to study the pouch. ]

It looks so normal on the outside, perfect to go unnoticed. Special arrays like magic words or stones...? It would be amazing if you could make more.

[Closed to Lan Xichen]

[singlelogbridge]

[It takes him a little while to track down where Zewu-jun is staying but when he does get the room, only a couple of minutes to make his way over. By now Wei Wuxian is walking mostly normally. Occasionally a dizzy spell will hit him that has him reaching for the wall, but his ribs are nearly healed and his stab wound is only a slight ache when he bends wrong.

The symptoms of the concussion linger the most and he has very reluctantly refrains from doing much to aggravate it. The pain in his arm also remains, if somewhat lesser. Which is to say that when he shows up at Zewu-jun's door, he looks mostly himself if a bit pale and drawn.

He knocks lightly and waits, announcing himself as he does.]

It's me, Zewu-jun. I would appreciate a moment of your time.

[calmness]

[ when lan xichen does open the door, he is dressed in white and blue robes instead of the modern clothes he often wears. they are not robes that wei wuxian has seen, not yet, but a set that make xichen feel the comforts of home.

he gives wei wuxian a look over, trying to access if the man is injured and if so how badly. he looks worse for wear, worse off than when he last saw him. mentally, he tries to remind himself that it is not his duty to take care of wei wuxian's well-being but a voice that sounds frighteningly like wangji's protests at that.

xichen offers a soft, tired smile. he, on the other hand, looks better than he had upon their return. still tired, still like he is recovering from injuries but the paleness and brittleness of his skin has subsided and anyone who is able to sense energies would be able to tell that his own is less frayed. not fixed, not whole, but on the mend. ] Master Wei. Come in.

[ he steps aside, allowing wei wuxian to enter his space. there are two beds here, though one is not in use. half of the room is sparsely decorated; a guqin rests on a stand next to where xichen's sword rests against the wall. his bed is made, the sheets a familiar fabric that looks like it was pulled from the cloud recesses' dorms, and his desk is covered in papers and houses a tea set in a familiar style. the two armchairs, provided to all, are settled in the area used for the guqin; an entertaining area of sorts.] Would you like tea? [ he glances as the tea set, there should be enough in the pot for tea for the two of them. ]

[singlelogbridge]

[Like Zewu-jun, Wei Wuxian also gives him a brief once over. Unlike Zewu-jun, he's relieved with what he finds. Zewu-jun looks much better than he had during their encounter in Taeum and it lightens the tightness in his chest. His feelings for Zewu-jun might be neutral to complicated, but he has no qualms about looking after the man in whatever limited ways he can on Lan Wangji's behalf.

He offers him the customary salute and then nods, toeing his shoes off as he steps inside.]

Thank you, that would be nice. [The room is reminiscent of their world in ways that the one he shares with Gwen is not, and he smiles to see it.]

I was hoping I could pick your brain on a matter.

[calmness]

I have a blend from one of the missions that is reminiscent of some we would have found back home. [ will find, when they return. xichen in the confines of the hanshi, wei wuxian when he is brought back to this world.

xichen shakes his head, not thinking on it.

he turns instead toward where the teapot is.] Have a seat. [ he says as he starts to prepare the tea; the process here is perfected now, from adding tea leaves to the pot to a quick spell to boil the water so it can be left to brew.

he quirks a brow, looking up at wei wuxian with more curiosity than he normally lets slip from behind his smiles. ] What is it you wish to know?

[singlelogbridge]

I'll keep an eye out for good tea on further missions. [He offers Zewu-jun a slight smile and then sits and tries not to pay too much attention to the cognitive dissonance of having tea like this with Zewu-jun, on a spaceship in another world after he's already dead. It's an amusing thought, but if he thinks about it too much, his head will hurt.

His smile fades into a different look then, not serious so much as considering.]

I'm working on designing an array that will function in some ways as a communication array even if that's not the purpose it intends to serve, and I thought you might have more familiarity with communication arrays than me. [Mostly because his familiarity is none.]

I can build it from scratch, but it would be faster if you knew of anything? I need to capture sound in an array that can be activated and listened to at a later time.

training;

[choicely]

[ The training room isn't a space Yennefer frequents that much, but now that they've returned from their mission — her first — she's made it a point to explore the places on Ximilia that she didn't quite venture into the first time around, especially not once she discovered the sunlight room and established a clear preference there over any other room on the station itself.

It's simple curiosity that leads her into this one, though it's recognizing Wei Wuxian that prompts her to linger, standing by the door with her arms loosely folded across her front and an expression of subtle curiosity on her face as she observes him.

She waits, though, until he's done something that seems to have failed before speaking at all. ]

Not what you expected?

[singlelogbridge]

I just can't get this—[He tosses the paper he's working on back to the ground with a dramatic flourish]—stupid thing to work!

[He groans and tilts his head back to see who he's speaking with, and then immediately brightens at the familiar face. Despite working on breaking the habit, he still clasps his hands together and offers her a brief bow from where he's sitting. People here sometimes don't know what to do with it when he makes these gestures, but it's a hard habit to unlearn.]

It's good to see you again, Miss Yennefer. I'm glad to see you returned from the mission unscathed. [Well.] Presumably? [She seems mostly unscathed anyway.]

Are you here to train?

[choicely]

[ It's not that his current predicament suddenly strikes her as amusing, but she almost can't help the brief lift at the edges of her mouth, especially when he performs his frustration with such a drastic motion. When hasn't she been in a similar state, trying something over and over again, envisioning the desired outcome, only to fall short with each effort? Many years have passed since she was a frustrated, failing novice at Aretuza, but she can recall those memories as easily as if they were only just prior to her arrival here.

She steps further into the room, not reacting directly to the bow in question even if her first instinct is to insist that he isn't required to do so — especially not for her. ]

Nothing lingering, at least. [ There is a subtle exhaustion in her expression, especially in her eyes, that point to the amount of chaos she'd reached for in order to help protect souls that day, but she doesn't make mention of it now. ]

Is that what this room is for? This is my first time in it.

[singlelogbridge]

[He nods, eyes quickly scanning over the room and the various pieces of equipment in it, and a wry smile comes to his face.]

It is, but probably not like this? [His eyes drop to his own mess of an area. He's been careful not to spill ink anywhere (even if he had definitely dipped the ends up his ponytail into it at one point) and it's a much more contained mess than the work station in his room, but it's still definitely not the kind of training most people came to this room to do he's sure.]

There's a range over there [he gestures] for archery—or firearms if that's more your style—and I've seen people come here to spar and swordfight.

Are you a warrior, Miss Yennefer? [The words feel strange on his tongue. In his world it would make more sense to ask if anyone were a cultivator or not, but he's long learned that cultivations seems to be unique to his own world, and he supposes 'warrior' is close enough to his meaning.

[choicely]

Well, apart from my intrusion, it's only your space to keep for the moment. [ Barring that, she doesn't care what kind of state he's left the room in, obviously, and not only because she isn't the type of person to seek out an area such as this one for the main purpose it's intended.

Her gaze hasn't lingered on him, mostly because she's followed his gesturing arm to the spots being indicated, and compiling all of the details in her mind alongside everything else she's learned about this station and where to find very particular things.

His question, however, prompts her back to the present with only a subtle blinking to signal that she's returned her attention to the conversation at hand. ] Hardly that. Though I have had cause to fight. [ She isn't just speaking of what transpired down in Taeum, and the portals she'd conjured to assist survivors from the other realm in fleeing. Chaos can be wielded much more offensively than that. ]

And I have acquired some skill with a blade, though that is somewhat limited.

wildcards whoo

[eschewings]

Wei-xiong!

[ the shout reverberates with utter dismay in the ghost-white halls as wei wuxian, unsuspecting, his hair half-falling out of a braid, hears the unmistakable sound of fast footsteps trying to catch up with him, the faint hum of a fan cutting through the air in sharp movements —

and nie huaisang, brow furrowed as if he's witnessing a complete tragedy.

(which, if anyone asks him, he is!) ]

What are those braids? No, wait, they can't even be called braids... what have you done to them? The poor things!

[singlelogbridge]

[He startles at the sound of his name, immediately dropping the brush he'd been holding onto—thankfully free of ink so it doesn't make a mess—and turning to see Huaisang running towards him. It's possibly a bad idea to be walking with his head down and his eyes glued to the talisman design he's working on, so he retrieves the brush and tucks both brush and paper back into his robes as he faces his friend.]

My...braids? [This is not the kind of thing he'd expected Huaisang to start in on when he'd shouted his name so loudly and run over to see him. He reaches up to tentatively pat at his (messy, possibly ink smudged) hair and finds it all in one piece.]

What about them? [Did he dip the ends into something again? He'd done that in the lab once and the ends had turned green for two days straight.]

[eschewings]

[ upon the question, huaisang gives the most dramatic of wails, perfected by ten years of careful practice — the kind of wail that probably makes lan xichen's hair stand on end on the other side of the station.

and then: ]

They're [ a whack on wei wuxian's shoulder with his fan ] so [ whack ] messy [ whack ] they [ whack ] can't [ whack ] even [ whack ] be [ STRONGER WHACK ] called braids!!

Ahh, if anyone in Qinghe saw you, they'd weep...!

[singlelogbridge]

Ow! Hey—Stop! [Wei Wuxian lifts a hand to try and block the fan, voice immediately derailing into a high pitched whine.]

It's just hair!

[He gives a dramatic pout and rubs at his shoulder. The terrifying Yiling Patriarch, everyone.]

[eschewings]

Just hair?

[ he pauses.

stares.

sways on his feet, hand pressed against his chest as if in pain. ]

Just hair??

[ then, visibly steeling himself, he grabs wei wuxian's arm and starts to drag him along. ]

This calls for serious measures! I am going to fix those even if it kills me!