You wake up in a bed, which is the first time in this life you've been in a bed, which just adds overall to the violently surreal nature of things.
You also wake up to an irrepressibly happy, "Good morning, Nie-zongzhu!" that prompts you to groan and flop your head back into the pillow before you even open your eyes.
"That's Da-ge," you say automatically, and then put all thoughts of your brother out of your mind because he's going to think you're dead, you've just joined up with a bunch of seditious rebels because they pulled a bunch of your friends from a past life out of nowhere and also the alternative was dying.
"Oh," Wei Wuxian says, a little surprised sound, and then -
<Wei Ying. Turn down the lights.>
The thought-speech tingles against the inside of your skull. The clash between two different kinds of psychic abilities is probably half the source of the conflict between trolls and Andalites, but you don't think it's so awful.
"Oh, right," Wei Wuxian's voice continues, and the brightness outside of your eyelids noticeably retreats. "Sorry, Nie-gongzi."
You allow this to convince you into opening your eyes. It's still a bit bright by troll standards, but probably as dim as is comfortable for humans or Andalites. You'll manage.
You sit up. Wei Wuxian occupies a chair at one side of your bed, leaning forward with relief and a touch of mischief in his eyes. He's wearing the robes from earlier still, but now that you're up close, you can see that his hair is secured by a jeweled ornament in addition to its usual ribbon. The lage gem on it is so deep a red it looks almost black. The sword that was over his shoulder is leaning against a nearby wall, and it's huge even by Nie standards, but you can marvel at it later. It's less important than the other occupants of the room.
Lan Wangji, of course, hovers over Wei Wuxian's shoulder. His main eyes are fixed on the back of Wei Wuxian's head, one of his stalk eyes is on you, and the last is on Jiang Cheng, leaning against the wall at the foot of your bed. So, business as usual from him, really. You're pretty sure Andalites don't normally wear clothes, but he's wearing a Lan ribbon and a white robe over his more humanoid shoulders as though absolutely nothing has changed about anything. It's a fragment of normalcy in a situation you couldn't have imagined while drunk.
Jiang Cheng also looks shockingly normal in purple brocade, though it's not full robes but instead a belted half-length jacket over jeans and combat boots that wouldn't look out of place in troll fashion except that they're purple-blue instead of black. (The jeans, that is, not the combat boots.) The sleeves don't reach all the way down his folded arms, either, giving you a clear view of Zidian wrapped around his bracer. He looks away immediately when he notices you looking, reverting to a two-on-one staring contest with Lan Wangji's stalk eye.
What's really surprising is the two women on the other side of your bed. Jiang Yanli is older than you've ever seen her - as old as she would have been at Wei Wuxian's resurrection, had she lived - and has an astrolabe of some sort floating at her side. Just... floating there. She's dressed mostly traditionally, though it's darker than you remember her dressing, and her lotus hair ornaments are now intermixed with stars.
And a seat down from her is a woman in red and white who you only half-recognize but, given the other occupants of the room, must be Wen Qing. She's dressed the least traditionally of all of them, but it's enough like a docterrorist's getup (just, less heavy on the terrorist part) that you can recognize it as medical wear. She has a mix of medical tools spread out against the side of your leg, and is looking more at them than at you.
In short: More of the cultivation world than you ever thought you would see again is clustered around your bedside. Your bitter little heart is brimming with nostalgia for days gone by. You half-wish Lan Xichen was here, even if your brother can't be, but...
Well. Perhaps you don't deserve him at your bedside.
You clear your throat. "Wen-guniang, am I allowed to sit up?"
She starts slightly at being addressed, looks up at you, and nods. "If you feel well enough, I won't tell you not to."
You push yourself up, scooting so you can lean back against the pillows. (There are so many pillows, actually, this is kind of indecent by troll standards.)
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of so many old friends?" you say. You pull a fan from your sylladex, just a normal one (because you do not want to risk pulling a weapon while sitting this close to Jiang Yanli, given everything). You keep it folded in your lap, though. You just need it to hold onto.
You also, even though you're speaking the old familiar language of the cultivation world, pitch friends in a way that in Alternian indicates that you actually mean close acquaintances of ambiguous friend-foe status. It's hard to manage when it's two contradictory tonal languages, but you think you pull it off. (Of course, the only one in the room who might understand a lick of Alternian is Lan Wangji, so it's probably lost on this audience.)
Jiang Cheng seems to catch the implication anyway, from the way he snorts. Wei Wuxian chirps, "Well, we were hardly going to leave you on the battlefield! Though it was a surprise to see you here of all places! Jiang Cheng owes Asch-zongzhu another bottle for doubting him."
"He doesn't even drink," Jiang Cheng protests. "He'll just give it to you or Vicious."
Wei Wuxian, immediately, turns on his brother with a grin. "Then you should make sure to give it to him when I'm there, so that Vicious doesn't get it!"
Wen Qing sighs. Jiang Yanli looks like she's struggling not to laugh. Lan Wangji reacts about as much as a tree, one stalk eye flickering over the scene before settling on you again.
You have no idea who they're talking about. So you very promptly turn towards Jiang Yanli and her astrolabe and say, "It sounds like I've missed a great deal! Jiang-guniang, that's an exquisite spiritual tool you have now. Will you tell me about it?"
She flushes lightly, and lifts her hand closer to you so that you can better examine the floating astrolabe. It really is beautiful, with clear and careful craftsmanship and spiritual energy flowing freely through it in a way that is at odds with the weak cultivator you remember. Gold and steel rings, with careful, almost invisible engravings, spin freely within an outer ring of enameled lotuses. It was also very clearly designed to float like this, rather than sit on a table or stand.
no subject
You also wake up to an irrepressibly happy, "Good morning, Nie-zongzhu!" that prompts you to groan and flop your head back into the pillow before you even open your eyes.
"That's Da-ge," you say automatically, and then put all thoughts of your brother out of your mind because he's going to think you're dead, you've just joined up with a bunch of seditious rebels because they pulled a bunch of your friends from a past life out of nowhere and also the alternative was dying.
"Oh," Wei Wuxian says, a little surprised sound, and then -
<Wei Ying. Turn down the lights.>
The thought-speech tingles against the inside of your skull. The clash between two different kinds of psychic abilities is probably half the source of the conflict between trolls and Andalites, but you don't think it's so awful.
"Oh, right," Wei Wuxian's voice continues, and the brightness outside of your eyelids noticeably retreats. "Sorry, Nie-gongzi."
You allow this to convince you into opening your eyes. It's still a bit bright by troll standards, but probably as dim as is comfortable for humans or Andalites. You'll manage.
You sit up. Wei Wuxian occupies a chair at one side of your bed, leaning forward with relief and a touch of mischief in his eyes. He's wearing the robes from earlier still, but now that you're up close, you can see that his hair is secured by a jeweled ornament in addition to its usual ribbon. The lage gem on it is so deep a red it looks almost black. The sword that was over his shoulder is leaning against a nearby wall, and it's huge even by Nie standards, but you can marvel at it later. It's less important than the other occupants of the room.
Lan Wangji, of course, hovers over Wei Wuxian's shoulder. His main eyes are fixed on the back of Wei Wuxian's head, one of his stalk eyes is on you, and the last is on Jiang Cheng, leaning against the wall at the foot of your bed. So, business as usual from him, really. You're pretty sure Andalites don't normally wear clothes, but he's wearing a Lan ribbon and a white robe over his more humanoid shoulders as though absolutely nothing has changed about anything. It's a fragment of normalcy in a situation you couldn't have imagined while drunk.
Jiang Cheng also looks shockingly normal in purple brocade, though it's not full robes but instead a belted half-length jacket over jeans and combat boots that wouldn't look out of place in troll fashion except that they're purple-blue instead of black. (The jeans, that is, not the combat boots.) The sleeves don't reach all the way down his folded arms, either, giving you a clear view of Zidian wrapped around his bracer. He looks away immediately when he notices you looking, reverting to a two-on-one staring contest with Lan Wangji's stalk eye.
What's really surprising is the two women on the other side of your bed. Jiang Yanli is older than you've ever seen her - as old as she would have been at Wei Wuxian's resurrection, had she lived - and has an astrolabe of some sort floating at her side. Just... floating there. She's dressed mostly traditionally, though it's darker than you remember her dressing, and her lotus hair ornaments are now intermixed with stars.
And a seat down from her is a woman in red and white who you only half-recognize but, given the other occupants of the room, must be Wen Qing. She's dressed the least traditionally of all of them, but it's enough like a docterrorist's getup (just, less heavy on the terrorist part) that you can recognize it as medical wear. She has a mix of medical tools spread out against the side of your leg, and is looking more at them than at you.
In short: More of the cultivation world than you ever thought you would see again is clustered around your bedside. Your bitter little heart is brimming with nostalgia for days gone by. You half-wish Lan Xichen was here, even if your brother can't be, but...
Well. Perhaps you don't deserve him at your bedside.
You clear your throat. "Wen-guniang, am I allowed to sit up?"
She starts slightly at being addressed, looks up at you, and nods. "If you feel well enough, I won't tell you not to."
You push yourself up, scooting so you can lean back against the pillows. (There are so many pillows, actually, this is kind of indecent by troll standards.)
"And to what do I owe the pleasure of so many old friends?" you say. You pull a fan from your sylladex, just a normal one (because you do not want to risk pulling a weapon while sitting this close to Jiang Yanli, given everything). You keep it folded in your lap, though. You just need it to hold onto.
You also, even though you're speaking the old familiar language of the cultivation world, pitch friends in a way that in Alternian indicates that you actually mean close acquaintances of ambiguous friend-foe status. It's hard to manage when it's two contradictory tonal languages, but you think you pull it off. (Of course, the only one in the room who might understand a lick of Alternian is Lan Wangji, so it's probably lost on this audience.)
Jiang Cheng seems to catch the implication anyway, from the way he snorts. Wei Wuxian chirps, "Well, we were hardly going to leave you on the battlefield! Though it was a surprise to see you here of all places! Jiang Cheng owes Asch-zongzhu another bottle for doubting him."
"He doesn't even drink," Jiang Cheng protests. "He'll just give it to you or Vicious."
Wei Wuxian, immediately, turns on his brother with a grin. "Then you should make sure to give it to him when I'm there, so that Vicious doesn't get it!"
Wen Qing sighs. Jiang Yanli looks like she's struggling not to laugh. Lan Wangji reacts about as much as a tree, one stalk eye flickering over the scene before settling on you again.
You have no idea who they're talking about. So you very promptly turn towards Jiang Yanli and her astrolabe and say, "It sounds like I've missed a great deal! Jiang-guniang, that's an exquisite spiritual tool you have now. Will you tell me about it?"
She flushes lightly, and lifts her hand closer to you so that you can better examine the floating astrolabe. It really is beautiful, with clear and careful craftsmanship and spiritual energy flowing freely through it in a way that is at odds with the weak cultivator you remember. Gold and steel rings, with careful, almost invisible engravings, spin freely within an outer ring of enameled lotuses. It was also very clearly designed to float like this, rather than sit on a table or stand.