﹙ it’s the faint scratch of sand in his eyes that pulls him out of his slumber, caked on one cheek in tear-streaked lines. you’d ask him his name now, and he’d hesitate to answer. lan wangji. his chosen name, both familiar and foreign as waves roll inland, dissolving into foam. that’s where he came from — frothy waters, tumultuous, frigid — and as he momentarily struggles to rise to his feet, he winces, fingertips pressed to his neck, and then his forehead. it stings, skin a little dented, outlined in dried blood… right. piranhas. his very first welcoming committee, and he remembers with a vague notion that nothing makes sense, even though everything does.

somehow. kind of.

groggy at best, and lightyears away from his usual impeccable posture, he looks positively lost in the middle of the black-inked beach, though some things are slowly taking shape in the back of his mind. in the periphery of his vision, a glint; his sword, probably, washed ashore the same way he was, and his hand clenches in turn. his state of undress doesn’t bother him — under different circumstances, he might have died a second (third??) time, and it’s a blessing his uncle is nowhere near to be found. qi deviation is a thing, though with the stench of fish in the air and the way his blood simmers cold beneath his skin, lan wangji’s memory blooms in fragments, just enough to feel… different.

he has yet to fully acknowledge the squid-like creatures on the beach, the scattering of various objects, or the people nearby. his ears buzz still, brain-fogged, a distant awareness of himself. it’s when he touches his forehead again, crimson blood trickling down, that something a little more tangible ices his lungs over; his throat closes, sand-parched lips parting on a soundless gasp.

and he fumbles his way to the crumpled white robes on the gravelly land, a dozen feet away. ﹚

2. 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙀

﹙ liberate. suppress. eliminate. none of which seems possible, a whole new set of rules in a world he knows and doesn’t. the air is bloated with the stench of half-death; it shouldn’t, but his stomach growls empty nonetheless, hungering for a bottomless amount of food — meat included. if he berates himself for his cravings, it barely shows. he’s as stoic as ever, though his frown might betray hints of concerns, and the way he holds the pummel of his blade, knuckles white, suggests a feat he’s been particularly good at, ever since he found himself secluded in the cold pond cave; anger. mostly self-directed.

that’s the one thing he’ll forever refuse to let go of. guilt. it’s a punishment in itself, though it’s nowhere near enough. it fuels his convictions tenfold, and here he is now with his usual poise, gracefully sinking to the ground with a guqin in his lap. the ghost in front of him is frantic, and lan wangji doesn’t wait for his companions to catch up; he pulls one string, regardless of the outcome because he has to try, and the ghost wails louder. ﹚

Attempt to understand.

﹙ an invitation for anyone who follows him, or perhaps for the ghost. another string is pulled, eerie notes matching its wailing sounds, and he waits for an answer. ﹚

3. 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿 𝙂𝙍𝙊𝙒𝙏𝙃

﹙ he’s seen his fair share of oddities. he’s fought a multitude, even, and it’s honestly quite the feat that anything still manages to catch him off-guard — as far as threats go, anyway. not all fruitful harvests are desirable harvests, apparently, and if a cultivator of his calibre must resolve to throw punches at a plant in order to preserve life, then so be it.

it’s a little awkward, almost, the way he just. chokes the enlarged stem, firmly pushing whoever stood there out of the way with one swift sweep of his arm. a potential victim just waiting to be devoured, a faint cut on their cheek — it’s hard to tell whether it’s fresh, or the only one. ﹚

Were you wounded? ﹙ and his grip hardens around the plant’s main stalk, his body swaying in unison with the creature’s violent tugs. ﹚


4. 𝙒𝙄𝙇𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙍𝘿

﹙ anything else in mind? go wild! if you aren't sure, just pm or poke me @ noctambule! i'm not 100% decided on his canon point but assume that he's fresh out of forced seclusion on this TDM (if you're familiar with cql, anyway!). ﹚