[--and just in case Huaisang does not get the picture and does not obey him, Jin Guangyao plants a hand on the back of his head and pushes Huaisang's face into the relative shelter of Jin Guangyao's neck and shoulder. His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, wet and thick, and Jin Guangyao realizes abruptly it's because there's blood on his tongue and teeth. What a frightening visage he must be presenting right now. He'd be horrified by the thought of it if he wasn't already near blind from pain, and distantly he wonders whether the price he's going to pay for this later (if they survive) will, in fact, be a qi deviation.
Wouldn't that just be poetic?
But he can't stop their flight now, because he knows that if he touches down, he will collapse, and he won't be getting back up again in time to save them from what is transpiring below them: the swift dissolution of the staircase into that black void as it keeps apace with Hensheng hurtling towards the mirror. And so Jin Guangyao pours the last of what he has left to spare without outright killing himself into a burst of speed towards that mirror and, at the last second, whips them about in a 180 degree angle so that it is his back that should hit the glass and take the brunt of the impact.
Mercifully, nothing shatters upon contact. Instead, it is like they have plunged into a cold pool of water, its dark, silent waters swallowing up sound and sensation and air, and for one horrific moment Jin Guangyao is certain that he has just killed them both--
--and then they spill out the other side, dry as a bone, onto the pavement in front of the Red, sending a cluster of frightened people loitering nearby scattering in different directions because that was a very unexpected arrival, and that's a flying sword, watch where you're flying that thing!!
As soon as Jin Guangyao's ears register the familiar and less immediately threatening sounds of the city around them--and, more importantly, as soon as he determines with one glance from his bloodshot eyes that Huaisang is indeed safe--it's like a switch goes off and all systems not immediately devoted to life support are rendered utterly non-essential. He feebly curls his fingers around Hensheng's hilt, folds in on himself onto the pavement with a weak exhalation, and grows very still.]
no subject
[--and just in case Huaisang does not get the picture and does not obey him, Jin Guangyao plants a hand on the back of his head and pushes Huaisang's face into the relative shelter of Jin Guangyao's neck and shoulder. His voice sounds strange even to his own ears, wet and thick, and Jin Guangyao realizes abruptly it's because there's blood on his tongue and teeth. What a frightening visage he must be presenting right now. He'd be horrified by the thought of it if he wasn't already near blind from pain, and distantly he wonders whether the price he's going to pay for this later (if they survive) will, in fact, be a qi deviation.
Wouldn't that just be poetic?
But he can't stop their flight now, because he knows that if he touches down, he will collapse, and he won't be getting back up again in time to save them from what is transpiring below them: the swift dissolution of the staircase into that black void as it keeps apace with Hensheng hurtling towards the mirror. And so Jin Guangyao pours the last of what he has left to spare without outright killing himself into a burst of speed towards that mirror and, at the last second, whips them about in a 180 degree angle so that it is his back that should hit the glass and take the brunt of the impact.
Mercifully, nothing shatters upon contact. Instead, it is like they have plunged into a cold pool of water, its dark, silent waters swallowing up sound and sensation and air, and for one horrific moment Jin Guangyao is certain that he has just killed them both--
--and then they spill out the other side, dry as a bone, onto the pavement in front of the Red, sending a cluster of frightened people loitering nearby scattering in different directions because that was a very unexpected arrival, and that's a flying sword, watch where you're flying that thing!!
As soon as Jin Guangyao's ears register the familiar and less immediately threatening sounds of the city around them--and, more importantly, as soon as he determines with one glance from his bloodshot eyes that Huaisang is indeed safe--it's like a switch goes off and all systems not immediately devoted to life support are rendered utterly non-essential. He feebly curls his fingers around Hensheng's hilt, folds in on himself onto the pavement with a weak exhalation, and grows very still.]