openmisc | Pagan/Huaisang

Oh, there’s definitely a bird in there. His eyes grow wide - this time with excitement and a little bit of awe - and runs to the cage to listen to the little chirps and cheeps under the fabric. He doesn’t know this song, what on earth could this creature be?

He pulls off the drape and gasps softly. Inside is one of the most unique and beautiful crested birds he’s ever seen. “It’s gorgeous,” he marvels, cooing at it through the bars. “You brought this just for me! It’s so wonderful, look!”

Pagan stops against a pillar and smiles. "Ah, I had it brought from a neighboring territory. They are quite common there, you see. They're called 'hoopoe,'" he says, trying to recite the name from memory.

"Hoopoe," he says, barely tripping over the strangeness of the name. He smiles brightly at the little creature. "You'll be the prize of my aviary. All the other birds will be so jealous of your plumage."

He wants very much to take the bird himself up to his aviary right now, but that's no longer something he can afford to do. He motions to a couple of his servants and instructs them to carefully bring the bird up. "And don't startle them," he adds quietly, his servants nodding seriously.

"Thank you." He turns to Min Pagan and offers another low bow. "I'll treasure it."

Pagan watches every expression, every movement, entranced by the enthusiasm he knew was waiting behind the facade. He just needed to get to it.

"I know you will, A-Sang," he says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Now, I'm very old and very tired. Have someone show me to a room."

“Oh, not that old,” Nie Huaisang laughs. “But I can’t fight tired. Let Shu Biyu show you to your chambers.”

He gestures with his hand and one of his more comely servants steps out from the shadows, smiling prettily at Min Pagan.

He knows the tastes of his clan’s ally.

Pagan sighs happily. "So clever," he laughs, but follows Shu Biyu to his room.

He doesn't sleep right away, though. He flirts and he laughs and he tosses a bit of magic around, getting out whatever information he can with a charming smile.

It's late when he finally does rest, drunk and pleased, but it's early when he wakes and finds himself in the gardens, barefoot under the moonlight.

Shu Biyu is a good servant, well-mannered and refined, and with Nie Huaisang's permission fully allowed to play host instead of just help. He leaves the two of them to their flirtations and heads back to the Nie family chambers, quiet as he walks with his fan through the empty rooms - his father's, his brother's, and then finally his own.

He steps inside and seals the room with a signal drawn on the doorway, leaving behind the high, splendid walls of the Nie's family wing and entering his own room. What was once airy and light has become dark and littered with talismans; there's an overwhelming feeling of dark energy emanating from a floorboard in the middle of the room. Nie Huaisang's youthful, cheerful face becomes gaunt and serious. He leaves the floorboard untouched, walking quickly around it and to his stacks of books, where he sits and reads for hours and hours.

But Da-ge is restless tonight, and Nie Huaisang finds that his mouth has begun to bleed after sitting so long with the fierce corpse. He leaves the oppressive rooms and takes the air, gasping softly as he tries to fill his lungs and clear the yang energy from his golden core.

Pagan rounds on the sound of someone stepping out, hoping against hope that it's not some sort of emergency that he has to try and take care of. Honestly, that isn't the sort of thing he wants to do while on a holiday of sorts.

He frowns when he recognizes the slight form and rushes over, arms outstretched.

"What's happened?" he asks, immediately looking for a foe.

Nie Huaisang's looks equally as startled, his own hands going up to strike. He isn't used to being accosted in his own gardens at this time of night, after all. He realizes the would-be assailant is Min Pagan though, and lowers his hands with wide and confused eyes.

"I--Min Zongzhu, you're out so late!"

Pagan isn't deterred. He reaches down, brushing blood from his face, and looks over his shoulder. "Tell me what's happened," he demands again, his hands squeezing his shoulders.

Nie Huaisang flinches at the touch, first the brush of blood from his lip - he'd forgotten it was there - then the hands to his shoulders. It's been so long since someone's concern has seemed so genuine to him.

"Min Zongzhu doesn't need to worry," he tells him, laughing softly, trying to put his mask back on. He was caught unawares - stupid, foolish Nie Huaisang. "I was reading and found an array I...I shouldn't have tried. It was too advanced for me."

That calms him, but only just, and there's something underneath Pagan's own mask. "If you're certain."

He looks over his shoulder again, but eventually releases him. "Well, you should see yourself off, then."

He nods, once, twice, then again. He's harried and frazzled, which isn't part of the act, though he certainly could have fainted to solidify things. "This one thanks you for your kindness and concern," he says, rushing away from him in a most undignified manner.

He doesn't stop running until he's back in his chambers, back in the oppressive air.

Pagan folds his arms across his chest and watches him with narrowed eyes.

But eventually he does find himself back in bed, curled up to sleep.

And the next morning, he walks the grounds, enjoying the gardens, pretending like nothing happened.

Nie Huaisang sleeps for two hours, then rises. His breakfast will be delivered in Nie Mingjue's old room - the room of the Sect Leader, but for the moment he has the moment to himself.

"Da-ge," he says, finally kneeling beside the floorboard. He pries it up with delicate fingers and looks down in the small cache, his brother's severed arm stilled by a blanket of talismans. "Da-ge, you were restless last night. I need you to still."

He reaches down to touch the back of his brother's hand. "Min Pagan is visiting. He misses you. Is that why you're so agitated? You need to quiet, Da-ge. Hush."

Nie Huaisang sighs and replaces the floorboards. He reseals his room and steps away to take his breakfast and read his correspondence, an hour or so later appearing once more in his own gardens. He looks more put together than he did the night before, cheerful despite not being well rested. "Min Zongzhu! Good morning!"

Pagan knows how to play this game. He smiles, giving him a bow. "Ah, Xiao Nie, you are quite cheery this morning. I thought I'd visit Qinghe properly."

He doesn't know why, but he feels as if he needs to leave. As if something is pushing him away.

That is a shame, he does enjoy Min Pagan's company. "It's been some time since you've visited," Nie Huaisang says, smiling and returning the bow. "I envy you. There's a theatre troupe that plays in Qinghe, their latest play is the talk of the city."

Pagan smiles. "Have you seen it yourself?" he wonders, knowing the answer.

"No, I haven't had the time," he admits sadly, fluttering his fan in front of his face. "I'd like to go though! My advisors keep me here."

Pagan grins at that, seeing an opportunity to keep trying to dig at his mask.

"Fuck your advisors. Come with me."

“Sect Leader Min presents a tempting offer,” Nie Huaisang replies, frowning softly. He did have to prepare for his meeting with the Jin next week, but -

“Okay.”

He grins quietly. “But I need to change - I don’t want to be identified right away.”

"I'll be waiting outside the gates," he grins, giving him a low bow.

Min Pagan is a bad influence. His father used to say that, didn’t he? Nie Huaisang understands the sentiment now, tiptoeing as he is through his chambers to throw on some less suspicious clothing. Nothing too fine, and nothing with Nie colors or the beast head - he eventually settles on some old robes he’d purchased for later plans, pinning his hair back up before heading down to meet Min Pagan at the gate.

"I almost didn't recognize you," he says, having recognized him immediately. "Truly, Xiao Nie, that is not a suitable look for you. You should be in your pretty silks again after this."

But he is ready to walk, gesturing for Huaisang to follow.

“Liar,” Nie Huaisang laughs, “but thank you. I have a few outfits suitable for saber practice - not many, of course.”

He follows along with a single glance over his shoulder, making a silent promise to return to his brother that he nearly always does when leaving the Impure Realm.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject