fanoperator | Open RP Post

It took Huaisang about three months after the resolution of his revenge to realize that he needed a project.

At first, he reveled in the freedom. Without having to think every day about his goal and the practicalities of bringing it into being, he had plenty of time to paint and compose poetry, to attend theatrical performances and music, and to manage the affairs of his sect. He'd long since set up his sect under the management of bureaucrats and supervisors he trusted, and it needed very little intervention from him. Everything was peaceful, and he could spend whole days painting without a thought in his head.

He was surprised to find that he missed having thoughts in his head.

It took more time and a visit to Wei Wuxian in the Cloud Recesses, but Huaisang finally got his idea for a delightful new project. Jiang Cheng was infamous for being blacklisted from the matchmakers because of his difficult personality and extensive list of qualifications for any potential spouse. Huaisang's own bachelor state was another source of gossip, it was true, but that joke was low-hanging fruit. It was hard to stir up much gossip about how Sect Leader Nie might be a cut-sleeve when he did relatively little to hide it and his reputation was already in the mud.

So, plan in mind, Huaisang went to visit his friend, announcing intention to stay for a week.

"Jiang-xiong," he started, once the pleasantries and diplomacy had been done and they were sitting out by the edge of the lake under a pagoda roof, drinking and watching the sun set. "I could not help but hear some word of your... courtship difficulties."

[Continuing this thread.]

Oh, look at that, [Huaisang teases, admiringly lifting Jiang Cheng's cock with a gentle fingertip.] No underwear, Wanyin?

Hmmmm. [He inspects the 'patient' with an appraising eye, trying to tell if there's any bruising.] I see. I'm afraid you're in very critical condition, Young Master Jiang. Amputation may be required if we don't start a rigorous course of treatment immediately.

[And yet here he is continuing to nod seriously rather than starting on that 'treatment'.]

There was very little torture in the Nie Sect dungeons, and no neglect. Prisoners were given a blanket and a bit of straw to lay on, two bland meals a day, and--once a week--a bucket and a grimy cake of soap. The dungeons were dry and mostly free of pests, and though the temperature was not comfortable, it was insulated enough by the rock walls so that it was merely chilly year round.

Three weeks ago, Wang Lingjiao had been left in Nie Sect custody. Two weeks ago, the sun had been shot down. Since then, the remainders of the sect had been gathered up and the sect leaders had been busying themselves with courtesy and politics, while Nie Huaisang went on quietly maintaining the bureaucratic affairs of Qinghe in his brother's absence.

No one had come to ask for Wang Lingjiao. Nie Huaisang suspected that she'd been completely forgotten. The other members of the Wen Sect had been killed or conscripted into labor, from what Huaisang understood of the situation, and it would be reasonable enough for him to turn her over, but... to what authority, really? Jin Guangshan kept making power plays, but there was no real reason why the Jin Sect alone should be the arbiters of justice. Wang Lingjiao was in the custody of a major sect and could reasonably be subject to their justice. She'd wronged the Jiang Sect most, and it was possible that Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian would find some solace in her harsh execution, but they were busy with grief and reconstruction. Huaisang saw little benefit in reopening that particular wound. And yet, if the Nie Sect kept her and did not kill her, Huaisang had no idea at all what he would do with her.

He had no plan, and yet he loathed the principle of leaving people to languish indefinitely in a dungeon. If no purpose could be found for her, then he'd bring her existence back to the attention of his brother, and she could be executed or maimed and exiled as he saw fit.

It was early for Wang Lingjiao's weekly bucket and soap, and those were usually brought at mealtime. Today, however, the hatch in her door was opened and a Nie Sect retainer pushed through a bucket, soap, and ... then a clean bundle of clothing. There was not a word of explanation provided, no matter how she might ask. Discipline was unyielding in the Nie Sect. Wang Lingjiao would have found no guards at all able to be swayed by pleas, promises, threats, melodramatics, or even performances of weakness or injury.

The clothing was plain, gray, drab clothing, the apparel of the lowest of Nie Sect servants. Once an hour after the initial delivery, the hatch would open again. Whenever she was found to be wearing the new clothing--whether at once or after a matter of hours--the door would open, and she would be escorted up into the sunlit halls of Qinghe. There was still no explanation, no fanfare, only the escort of unyielding guards. If she chose to fight and quarrel, she would be dragged back to her cell, and the whole procedure would begin again after another week of silence.

Only once Wang Lingjiao would walk in relative cooperation between her guards would she be brought to a quiet reception hall. There was no pageantry on the halls, no court or ministers in attendance. It was an empty room whose entire purpose was to be purposeless. Matters conducted here had none of the authority of the great hall, the Sect Leader's study, the bureaucratic offices. It was an anonymous parlor, just a little dusty. At the far end, easy to overlook, was a young man curled up in a chair, looking all the younger for the way that he lounged with one leg up over the arm of the chair and the other tucked beneath him. He had a book open in his lap, and looked for all the world like an underclerk sneaking away from duties or studies in order to hide in a room where he would be unlikely to be noticed. The only thing to tell the lie of this was the way that the guards stopped at the entrance to the room, leaving her to choose her own course of approach to the young man with his book. He didn't even seem to have noticed that anyone had entered.

The resentful energy went wild, doing as it pleased with the bloody corpse of one Xue Yang. Black tendrils of poison spread across his limbs, up his throat and onto his face. The color pools in his eyes and he gasps, dragging air into his lungs. Consciousness returns slowly and it takes him half an hour to lift himself off of the dirt. After noticing that he feels unbalanced, he realizes that he is missing his arm.

Oh. It's there.

Well it won't do him any good now. Clutching the still open wound, he walks slowly through the sea of coffins. Jiangzai is sheathed at his hip and he doesn't know what awaits him.

Or who awaits him.

"I told you I sensed something! Tie him up, Wen Ning."

That is Wei Wuxian's voice. Xue Yang turns only to feel chains wrapped around him, tighter than any embrace.

"Huaisang isn't going to like it, but that's the best place to put him."

The Unclean Realm. He remembers it. For the journey, he is dragged by a chain, treated like a dog. He doesn't feel tired like he would usually and he presumes that has something to do with his current state. But why bother fighting anything?

Days later, he looks up from his feet to see Wuxian speaking directly to Nie Huaisang, who looks...uncertain. Maybe fearful? He feels Jiangzai removed from his person and his brow furrows.

"He needs to be locked up for good. Can you manage it, Huaisang?"

Edited 2020-05-14 07:29 (UTC)

As if Dirk would actually need a reason to regularly visit his Dominant, he heads to Huaisang's right on time. Though, he does have to admit that there is something extra fun about having a sort of "date" scheduled despite the fact that they see each other all the time. It makes him feel a little bit special, maybe.

He doesn't want to be late (bothering to pay attention to the time is still a novel activity for him) so he travels on four legs instead of two. He can get through the city more easily this way--both because his canine form is faster and because he's less likely to be flirted with and sidetracked when he looks like this.

...Also, he doesn't want to pass up a chance to spook any housemates or guests who might still be hanging around the place.

Once he arrives, the hound immediately begins hunting down Huaisang's scent as soon as he lets himself in.

Fake Courtship; for angrygrape

TFLN cont; stub your boner, legbreakings

Usefulness; for dis_arming

Fiercely

Playtime with leashes