ximilialog | Gusu Birthday

Entry tags:

Gusu Birthday

CHARACTERS: Lan Wangji and you
LOCATION: All Over
DATE: Oct 7
CONTENT: Cooking, Handstands, and Tea
WARNINGS: none

Mao Shi & Chen Shi (5am-9am)
Wangji wakes, dresses, and makes his way to the common area where he sits and meditates for a half hour (one hour by the current standard).

He then makes his way to the kitchen to explore what is available and watch others who may be up cook while waiting for Zhao to arrive and teach him about all of it properly. If anyone is there and wants to engage in conversation, he will do his best to be social.

Wangji will remain in the kitchen cooking and baking with Zhao.

Si Shi & Wu Shi (9am-1pm)
Wangji cleans up and heads to the training room. He does not particularly dress down for this, remaining in three layers and forgoing only his outermost robe that usually remains unbelted. When he gets there, he greets whoever else may be there with a polite bow and finds a small space to the side. He begins his workout by folding and tying the dragging parts of his robes up, ensuring his hair is entirely secured in a bun, tucking the ends of his forehead ribbon into his mouth and then dropping smoothly into a perfect handstand. After about 15 minutes of holding that pose, he begins to do push-ups while otherwise remaining in the handstand. Another 15 minutes of that and he moves to doing them one handed, alternating arms after about ten minutes. That was his warm up.

At that point he rolls out of his handstand, calmly fixes his clothing and hair so that they fall appropriately, and pulls his sword to begin practicing his forms. If someone else approaches, he puts his sword behind himself so that it is safely away from them, and greets them with a bow of his head.

Wei Shi & Chen Shi (1pm-5pm)
Wangji spends the earlier part of Wei Shi with his brother.

After leaving Xichen, he retreats to the Ximusic room where he can be found practicing tentatively on an electric guitar. He does not hold it in the traditional hold, but rather upright as one would a pipa, which is more familiar to him. He is attempting some basic cords with a western score that is largely unfamiliar to him - both in the written format and the means of denoting scales. But despite some obvious struggle (and more than a few sour notes that get replayed until the come out properly) he does not look upset or frustrated. He is focused and clearly invested in learning. He will easily pause his playing to greet anyone who comes in and ask if they need him to stop with a quiet, "The instrument is loud. This Wangji can return later if it will disturb you."

Yu Shi & Xu Shi (5pm-9pm)
Wangji goes to visit the simulation room and if it is not locked, takes a look inside to see who might be using it and what scenario they have up. He is still very unused to the magics of that room and interested in experiencing whatever others have chosen to bring to it. He does not know enough to call a world into being himself, after all, but is unduly fascinated all the same. He gets around chastising himself for his too keen interest by excusing it with the fact that the room is necessary for training and successfully completing missions.

Once his curiosity is sated there, he makes his way to the sunlight room to spend the last hour of the day relaxing in the closest thing to nature there is on the station. He wanders the paths leisurely, looking almost wistful as he takes in the beauty of the place and allows it to soothe his spirit. Tomorrow is his first mission and he will need the peace.

Hai Shi (9pm)
Time for all good Lans to be in bed.

[Feel free to tag with a different scenario if you want. Wangji is puttering around the station today trying to make his brother's birthday special and psyching himself up for his first mission]

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Wangji stands attentively, waiting for Zhao to arrive. He knew he would arrive earlier than the other. Most people he's met outside the Lan Sect do not keep the same early hours so he does not expect the other man to arrive in the kitchen as early as he does. So he is patient and when Zhao does walk through the door, he greets the man with a bow.

Edited 2022-10-07 22:03 (UTC)

It was way too early in the morning for this man's old fashioned formality. Or perhaps he had spent too much time here on the Ximilia where culture differences were the norm. Either way, Zhao, typical of a prominent leader of a gang, didn't bother to reciprocate the bow. He only paused briefly to note it and then dismissed with any pleasantries.

Old habits died hard. He knew proper etiquette and even employed it in day-to-day encounters outside of his territory. But presented with a scenario on his "home turf" that screamed entirely too formal to him right now, he blatantly ignored protocol. It's what happened when one wanted to project a better-than-thou quality that kept others on their toes and told them who was boss without spelling it out for them.

All that said, Zhao wasn't unfriendly. Far from it. He smiled at Wangji as he stepped further into the kitchen and glanced around to get a general feel for where everything was left last it was used. A small hand gesture used to get attention, something like a wave crossed with a salute, was given after that.

"Heyyy. Good morning, Lan-san."

He greeted with a slow draw to the sound of his words. He walked towards the middle of the kitchen before turning back around with a small theatrical gesture of arms out as if to indicate everything around him. Then clapped his hands together.

"So! Where to start, hmm?" He said with a lop-sided grin. He made a show of pretending to think about it before posing a question to his new student. "Are you ready for the breakdown?"

"Er-gongzi," he corrected, assuming that the '-san' was supposed to be short for 'san-gongzi'. He didn't react to the arguable rudeness the lack of a bow implied. Firstly because he was to be a student today, and secondly because he had met enough of the crew to understand that many came from cultures where bowing was not the norm. He did not know if that was the case for Zhao but he would give him the benefit of the doubt.

Wangji's eyes were all that followed Zhao further into the kitchen, wanting to give the man space. He walked as if he would take up a lot of it with big gestures.

At the question, Wangji nodded and gave a small "Mm." of ascent.

Edited 2022-10-08 04:18 (UTC)

Zhao laughed at the correction. And then made one of his own.

"'-san' is Japanese, not Chinese."

He would refuse to call the other 'er-gongzi' for the simple fact that he knew what it meant. Not enough individualism to it. Too old fashioned and demeaning in his modern viewpoint.

He didn't further explain why he used the Japanese honorific or what it meant. He would leave it up to Wangji to figure it out or ask the question if he wanted to find out. It's not that Zhao had any qualms talking about his life or mixed culture--in fact, he shared it as often as it came up in conversation--but in this instance he left it unspoken for reasons his own.

"Let's start with basics then." Zhao pointed around the room as he listed a handful of the appliances. "Stove, refrigerator, microwave... We'll need to stove to bake those cakes of yours. It's your flame, so to speak. There's no fire actually involved, just heat. The fridge is opposite that--it produces cold to keep things fresh, you store leftovers and other foods that need to keep chilled to last in there. The microwave is...kinda like a mini-stove in that it will heat up objects very quickly. Useful for quick reheats, not so much cooking new items. Do not put any sort of metal in it. Or it will explode."

He went with a simple explanation on the last because like hell was he going to try and explain radiation to someone without modern education. He wasn't even sure how well this was all going over so far. He paused though to allow Wangji to ask any questions if he had any.

Natasha is in the training room most mornings. When Wangji arrives, she's finishing up her AM workout with a stretching routine. She acknowledges the bow with a nod, not quite breaking her routine.

She's comfortable leaving it there at first, finishing up her progression in silence—comfortable, if not necessarily companionable.

As his handstand continues though, Natasha's curiosity is piqued. She's watched super soldiers workout before. She's hard to impress, strictly speaking, but that doesn't mean she doesn't notice. The balance as much as the strength gets her attention.

By the time he transitions into the one arm pushups, Natasha has finished her own workout and retired for a drink, but she finds herself lingering, wondering how long this will last.

The correction had him blinking because he had thought Zhao was a decent of the Jianghu of China, not Japan. And also, he did not know what 'san' meant in Japanese. He was only mildly familiar with some of the music out of that country and most of it was translated or used the same notations he was used to. So he had very little context. Perhaps 'san' meant second in that tongue?

His thoughts were cut off by the quick transition into the 'basics' and he focused his attention on where Zhao was pointing and what he was saying.

"Mm. I have seen the 'ree-fridge-er-ate-orr'," he pronounced the word very slowly, it's shape still new to his mouth. "It is similar to ice boxes I have seen. But it holds no ice to keep food cold. I will avoid the 'mike-row-wave'."

He had no wish to accidentally explode anything.

Wangji does not take long for the one-arm pushups, but by the time he is pulling himself out of his handstand, he has spent close to an hour upside down. He is somewhat disheveled by it as he stands and begins to fix his clothing. He is just taking his hair out of the bun and shaking it out to hang properly behind him when he notices her standing and watching. He pauses to stare back and blink as he takes in her own state of dress, before turning his head to avert his eyes and pursing his lips. His ears are easy to see for the moment and while the rest of him remains pale outside of a slight flush of exhertion, the tips of his ears have turned a bright red.

Nonetheless he still attempts a polite nod of his head in her direction.

（ by 0900 hours, itachi has already been in the training room for several — the lion's share of his time is eaten up by diligent kata, the throwing of knives, and the strength training that has returned the muscle years of illness stole from him.

however, the room is large and spare, and when lan wangji enters, itachi spares him no more than an idle glance. identifying him as kin to lan xichen is simply done — he has spent considerable time in the company of cultivators, whether xichen or huaisang, and through his acquaintance with wei wuxian, he is able to recognize the man directly.

after all, it was not forty-eight hours ago that wei wuxian had come to him, nerves scraped raw, racked with shame and pain over the arrival of his zhiji. so much concealed behind broken words. i wanted him to forget me, wei wuxian had said. itachi has come to know him too well to fail to recognize the frantic, yawning guilt behind those words. he feels nothing for the man that stirred those feelings in him — not resentment or dismissal or annoyance. but the comparisons drawn between lan wangji and himself is not forgotten.

itachi leaves him to his devices for much of the morning, setting up targets in his corner of the room. there is no pomp or ceremony to how he hits them with knives, it is just muscle memory and unerring aim, even for those targets concealed behind panels or on the ceiling. the occasional clash of knives colliding with one-another to alter their trajectory is the only sound to emerge from his activity — neither his breathing nor his footsteps are anything but silent.

but once lan wangji advances through his training to a sword, itachi selects one from the wall as well, and approaches him. he does not bow — itachi may be formal, but he is not especially polite — but he does nod towards the cultivator's blade with a faint upwards tick of his chin. the faint luminous glow of eyes alight with cinnabar red seem to miss nothing as they focus on lan wangji. ）

Would you care for a partner?

（ while the cultivator's qi is not quite the same as chakra, there will be an energy signature that lan wangji should be able to feel as well, the spill of a aura dark as an oil slick concealing the gentle warmth of its core of fire. it will, at the very least, mark him as someone who is not without power. ）

[Lan Wangji does sense his energy and if Itachi has the ability to sense a cultivator's qi, he would sense almost nothing from Lan Wangji initially. His control over it very tightly kept when he was merely practicing his forms and did not want to risk potential harm to others and in a relatively small space. He was not yet sure of what the rest on the station - outside of his brother - were capable of, both in dishing out and being able to handle what Lan Wangji could produce. So he was being cautious in general.

He kept his sword behind him while he studied the other man, taking in the eyes. The feel of his aura. The way he held himself. He was clearly dangerous and well trained.

Wangji nodded his head and introduced himself before taking up a starting stance. Sword in front, opposite arm tucked behind him with the sheath in his fist and his fist at the small of his back. He stood with less formality than when he bowed, but he was still straight backed with shoulders squared. If Itachi had ever sparred with Lan Xichen or watched his older brother fight, then he would recognize forms already run through and now being fallen into for the spar.]

Lan Wangji.

Technically, Lan wasn't entirely wrong about Zhao's heritage but there was one major complication. His grandparents had brought over his young parents from China during a time of war and been stuck thereafter in Japan. Zhao was fully Chinese but born in Yokohama, Japan. He was one of few Yokohama Liumang to understand and incorporate both of his heritages into his life. Most Chinese descendants of his generation couldn't even speak Chinese much less knew too much culture from home. Zhao didn't flaunt it but he did take pleasure in using his knowledge whenever he could.

He supposed the polite thing to do would be to switch over to Chinese for this highly formal man. But that would be less fun, and if anything Zhao was a huge troll. He'd stick to confusing the man by hopping back and forth until the amusement wore off, and maybe then some.

"Yeah, same basic principle so be sure the door is shut when you're finished with the fridge or else all the cold will dissipate. And it'll make it work harder which isn't good for the electronic way it creates the cold." He shifted his gaze to the microwave and performed a quick tilt to the side and back again in an expression of quirky agreement. "That's probably for the best. The microwave can be tricky."

He turned back to Lan Wangji and offered another smile--slightly crooked, eyes full of mirth for no apparent reason. "So, you wanted to make your brother some birthday treats, ne? Best way to learn in my experience is by doing so let's decide what you're making and I'll help you make it."

Wangji nodded and moved forward to the nearest counter. His eyes slid over the many cabinets, uncertain where he would even start to find the ingredients needed.

"Yam cakes." (山药糕)

Since he doesn't actually know what is available, he's hoping that it will be simple enough that there doesn't have to be any substitutions. They were really only fancy when it came to the decoration.

"And tea. Brother shared some with me when I arrived. I will brew the same for him today."

Uchiha Itachi.

（ he has not introduced himself outloud with his clan's name in well over a year now — except to tell gwen and wei wuxian the pronunciation of the hiragana in which he writes it — but it does not trip the tongue.

there is no need to engage in other pleasantries. the offer has been made and accepted, and so there is nothing else to do but spar. itachi falls back into a defensive stance, quick and fluid as water. he knows much of what the cultivators are capable of, but he would not expect someone from a clan as restrained as the lan to lead with those abilities, and so he will likewise refrain.

he holds his sword like one born to it, and waits for lan wangji to set the pace. ）

[Wangji is not one to wait. As soon as Itachi settles into his stance, Wangji is striking out with Bichen. A series of feints at first, aimed around Itachi's chest, shoulders, and head, to test Itachi's reflexes before he puts in more effort and more power. His gaze never leaves Itachi's face, focused and intense.]

"Do you always spend that much time upside down in the morning?" Natasha asks, throwing her towel over her shoulder as she gets ready to leave.

Probably she shouldn't stick around and watch.

She says it with the air of someone mildly impressed, but perhaps ironically so.

"It's one way to wake up."

"Not every morning," he responds, keeping his eyes averted, but turning his body towards her to be respectful. "I wake at mao shi- five AM. This is necessary for waking."

He has always had trouble with irony.

Natasha smiles slightly, her head tilting slightly. She can appreciate the effort. She considers mentioning that she speaks Chinese, at least as well as someone who's not Chinese can, but she's not sure that would be especially useful.

Instead, she says, "It's a little eurocentric, isn't it? Considering we're in space."

He lifts his eyes in confusion and quickly drops them. She is still practically in her underwear as far as his knowledge of things go and he has not been here even a fraction long enough to be used to the sight.

"I do not know that word."

He says with questioning tone. Though he does not clarify further, it's probably 'eurocentric' not 'space' that has him confused.

[ andy is sleeping. ]

[ it's not the first time and it will not be the last, but naptime in nature, however fake, is one of her favorite pastimes on board. there's an empty bottle of vodka in the grass nearby, and she's even tucked under a blanket she dragged with her, though it's gotten messy as she's rolled around. half her leg is sticking out, and an arm is sprawled up behind her head. ]

[ she starts with a yawn just as she hears someone approaching - it's not that he woke her up, but the noise pulls her back into consciousness a lot faster. she sits up and stretches, blinking at him. he looks unfamiliar. ]

What time is it?

[Wangji blinks down at the woman before averting his gaze in what is a respectful manner for him, but could easily come across as rude. His eyes looking curiously at the empty bottle. He doesn't recognize it or what it means - he is barely familiar with alcohol in his own world, he could not begin to guess at the many forms it takes in this place.]

Half-way into Xu Shi...

[He murmured, pausing before adding on:]

The little hour called 'Eight PM' by the standards here.

[He is still getting used to the differences in naming conventions. And he does not thing to apologize for waking her. It is, after all, almost the end of the day. For him.]

（ the strikes connect, steel chiming against steel in battlesong much older than either of them. he does not meet the man's eyes in turn — the sharingan is a weapon of its own, and its edge is best blunted when he does not wish to kill. instead, his gaze is pinioned at a point just above lan wangji's shoulder, the impossible red of his eyes tracking motion too small to be seen with normal attention.

he seems almost to possess a form of precognition, with how his sword seems to always be just in the right place at the right time to block a blow. ）

[Itachi's ability is clear during this first exchange and gives Wangji some idea of how he will be once Wangji puts in real effort. The man is good. He will likely be a challenge. Which is also good. Wangji had not truly faced an equal in years - outside of Xichen. He did not known if Itachi would be able to be counted as a true equal, but as challenge, he was certain not to disappoint.

Wangji did not break away before changing his tactics, going for actual strikes meant to do damage. Not real damage. Or at least not dangerous damage. A very shallow cut here or there. If Itachi was going to stay on the defense, Wangji would give him something to defend against now that he had tested him. The change in his strikes is immediately apparent. He is more aggressive, faster, and there is power and force behind each blow that had not been there before. Not yet to the point of going all out - and probably will not for an introductory spar (only one person had ever gotten him to do that and he had given up the sword long ago), but clearly treating Itachi with the seriousness he deserved.

His expression did not change.]

[ andy is bad at all forms of time, so even though she recognizes what he says of the hour, even if it's not something she's heard in a long time, she still frowns mostly in attempt to contextualize it all. how long was she asleep for?? ugh. she hates not having the real sun. ]

[ he might look away but andy doesn't register the avoidance for what it is. she folds the blanket haphazardly in her arms, thinking she should probably get some food soon. ]

[ when she speaks again, it's a seamless shift into mandarin to match him; truthfully she's not fully conscious of it - her brain just doesn't need the earpiece translator to understand him and so she replies without the need of it either. ]

Thanks. Hour of the dog, right? [ she climbs to her feet, tucking the blanket under her arm. ] One of the best times for food. You new?

[Wangji tilts his head toward her, eyes flicking over before he can stop himself and then moving away again. The shift to the most common dialect surprised him]

The start of the hour is appropriate for the evening meal.

[He agreed. Being half-way through it, he wasn't sure if was still one of the 'best times' but he couldn't disagree that most people he knew took their dinner at some point during it.]

Mm. You are not.

[It was not quite a question, but there was a certain amount of curiosity in his tone.]

Considering her workout is usually in a sports bra and leggings or a tank top, she really is in her underwear, and completely unbothered by it.

Unfortunately as far as that kind of discomfort goes, he's just going to have to adapt.

She does have the grace to smile a little sheepishly though.

"In this context, I mean it's a little strange and a little unfair we take the calendar and the clock from one culture when there are people here from all over. And everyone's a long way from home."

You can eat at any hour if you really put your mind to it, but I like a good meal when the sun's going down.

[ he's so... formal. a polite stiffness that seems a little more than just being a shy newbie. andy looks down at herself, worried she forgot to put on pants, but she has leggings and a t-shirt on. ]

No. It's been a few months. [ it has been a year. she is, again, fucking terrible at time. ] I'm Andy.

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Gusu Birthday

Cooking - Locked to Zhao - we can do action tags if you prefer, I'll follow your lead

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training room

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training;

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sunlight room

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