openmisc | Aaron/Huaisang

He rolls his shoulders back, standing up straighter, crossing over to greet him in turn. "Where the fuck am I?" he wonders, glancing behind him, as if they'd been followed. He's tense, worried, no longer in control of anything. And Huaisang looks...exactly the opposite. Aaron's almost a little jealous.

"How did you guess that? Did you do this?"

“Do what, bring us here?” Huaisang scoffs. “I’m not anywhere near that powerful! I think it’s some sort of port, or the Admiral dropped us off accidentally. That’s been my guess though, I was waiting to hear if anyone I knew had come along with me.”

"Yeah, there ain't anyone else here, man. Just me. And I was in the middle of nowhere. I rode a fucking donkey to get here."

Not exactly an experience he wants to repeat any time soon.

He glances over Huaisang's shoulder. "Did you - did any of your people make it back? Or are they still fucking dead?"

Huaisang glances away at Aaron’s question. “No,” he answers him, distracting himself with a painting on the wall. “No, no one came back. It’s just how I left it.”

Jim Guangyao still dead, his brother still dead, Lan Xichen still in seclusion. The cultivation world is dreary and he’s even more alone.

“So it was just you. What’s the Admiral playing at with this!”

"Maybe it's just a port," he says, moving away to return to the very good smelling soup. He didn't get to eat and his stomach is reminding him of that fact.

"Maybe everyone got dropped off in different parts or - or on different worlds. Shit will be back the way it was in a week."

He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard of a port going directly into someone’s world, but this is the Barge. Anything could happen!

He sits down across from Aaron to make sure he’s eating well. He knows the roads in and out of Qinghe — it’s rough traveling up here in the mountains.

“Other than all that, are you alright?”

"I mean, I woke up in the dirt and then people started coming at me with fucking swords. I saw someone fucking fly. On their sword."

He shakes his head. "Your world is weird, man."

Huaisang laughs a little. “You don’t think about it until you’re on the other side. Cultivators do fly on swords. Good ones anyway.”

And the ones that don’t use evil-devouring sabres.

"Well, I stick out like a goddamn sore thumb around here." He reaches up, toying with the ends of his hair. "What the fuck are we gonna do, huh?"

Huaisang thinks he looks exotic, like a rare white flower blooming on the hill!

But he can understand why Aaron might be a little miserable. He would be too, if things were reversed.

“You’ll be just fine if you stay here with me. This is my home.”

"Yeah, looks like it." He raises his eyes from his soup and reaches over, moving from his hair to Huaisang's braids. "You look good in power."

Which he is. It's very obvious.

Huaisang can’t help but wear the pleased little smile the compliment creates. He bats his fan a little, the bracelets clicking on his wrist.

“Simple matter of access,” he tells him, grinning. “This is where all my things are.”

But power does suit him. He’s a good sect leader, and his disciples adore him. They’re the only ones who do at the moment, not that he cares one bit.

Aaron raises a brow at him, still toying with the braids. "So, why don't you give me the grand tour? After you show me how those fucking robes work."

“Nie braids are sacred,” he teases, pulling his head back from Aaron’s grip.

“Eat first, then I’ll show you the Impure Realm.”

"Who are you, my grandmother? I ate!" he insists, full of energy now that he knows he's not in danger. He knows that Huaisang will take care of shit, which is all he's really needed. Someone else to do the protecting for a while.

Huaisang snaps his fan shut and knocks Aaron on the knuckles. “I’m the sect leader! You’ll do as I say, or I’ll throw you in the dungeon.”

He grins and climbs back to his feet, rather gracefully for a man wearing quite a few robes. “If you really are finished I’ll show you how to dress.”

That gets a sort of mean-sounding laugh.

"Yeah, well, I'm some sort of vengeful ghost."

He picks up the robes again and holds them out to him to inspect.

"You look like one!"

He prods through the robes, deciding that no, these won't do at all! They don't fit his complexion at all. He scoffs softly and shakes his head.

"No, no. I've got better robes than this. Come with me."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, but follows along behind him rather dutifully. "What's wrong with the ones I have?"

"They're too plain! They're the clothes of a disciple; that's not who you are. You're my guest."

Huaisang walks breezily though the long, stone hallways of the Impure Realm, out of the guest quarters and through the lush gardens until they reach another hall. This one is closer to the middle of the complex, and it's clear it's the most ornate.

He tries not to gape. It's difficult, considering the abject lavishness of the place, and he hides it as best he can.

The gardens are beautiful, like something out of a dream, and the hall he leads him to is nothing short of awe-inspiring.

"The hell is a disciple here, anyway?"

"Someone who learns cultivation techniques from my clan," Huaisang explains, though he knows he needs to take that statement apart as well. "In my world, people can develop something called a golden core. With this golden core you can harness qi, move it through your body, affect the world around you. Fly on swords. My clan cultivates with swords."

"Uh huh." He doesn't necessarily disbelieve him, but it is a lot to take in. "So how come you don't use a sword all that much?"

"A fair question," Huaisang replies, his smile fading just a little. He brings Aaron up the stairs and into the living quarters of the Nie family -- quiet now that his entire family's deceased.

"I never liked it. The Nie Clan doesn't just use a simple sword, we use a saber. A saber that eats up resentful energy of monsters and beasts. It makes the cultivator powerful, but it's dangerous. Resentful energy can eat away at your soul and your qi."

He's starting to understand.

"But you had your brother. Who would be able to to do that shit for you so you could do your art and fuckall?"

He is only guessing, but he's confident in those guesses.

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