He's tired of walking through dreams, actually. At first it was better than being trapped in his own nightmares because at least he could actively control the ones he visited, since it was essentially lucid dreaming. But for an empathetic person, seeing nightmare after nightmare of the fears of so many people really wears on you after a while!
Which is why, when he finds himself in Hua Cheng's dream, he doesn't even do anything right away. The entire world could be on fire and he'd just sit on the ground with his head in his hands for a second. JUST A SECOND. JUST... just a second... to rest... It's fine.]
[ Well, at least the entire world isn't on fire. Just some parts of it!
There's a stillness that belies calmness, at first, but that's not always such a good thing. Around them, as Wei Wuxian catches his breath, takes a moment to rest, after what has surely been an exhausting night... the fires burn, smoldering more than anything else now, dotting the familiar streets of Umite. The rivers that he knows like his own pulse are a mess, debris and rubbish filling the usually clean water. Such disarray is, no doubt, not out of place with this night of dreamwalking, but it isn't any less disheartening.
Or strange, when it appears there's no one in the dream.
Besides Hua Cheng, anyways, on his knees in the middle of the street, something held close.
As someone with so much presence, so much height, Hua Cheng always fills a room. His tails - when all of them are accounted for - lend to that quite well. But right now, he's... bigger, yet there's still the sensation of just the two of them in a sea of nothing. And he stands out, too, as he stares ahead into nothing. His hair and fur are wild, almost bristled even where the reddish orange fur is matted, and there's a sluggishly oozing tear in his right ear. It wouldn't be wrong to say that he appears more fox-like than his usual human form shows, either, features sharper and elongated, something nearly feral in the dark glint of his visible eye.
But he turns his head, the moment he realizes he's not alone, and the right side of his face is clawed up, bruised, cut - yet it does nothing to hide the mismatched red eye.
And just like that, the picture of Umite shudders - and is normal again, the place they call home, except the people walking the streets have blank faces that have been shredded to ribbons, their throats torn out and caked with brackish, tacky blood. It doesn't stop a chorus of voices from shouting around them, though - "monster! he's a terrible monster!" "the gods left him cursed, and if you get too close, he'll curse you too!" "how hideous, how ugly, it's so terrible - why don't you just do everyone a favor?" "die!" "die!" "die!"
Nothing about Hua Cheng himself changes, save for a contrary hostile disinterest.
The white figure he cradles against him remains motionless, but somehow pristine all the same, even with the bloody and clawed hands that are used to support it. ]
THAT'S NOT GOOD. None of this is good, even if the themes are strikingly familiar. There are a lot of ties between demons and humans in nightmares. Thematic repetitions. Loss of lives, loss of loved ones. Tragedies veering wildly out of control. Being a passenger in a slow-moving wreck, seeing it coming but being unable to stop it. Fire. Destruction. Faceless mobs, angry people coming together in groups to chant and capture and hurt and destroy.
Hua Cheng was right when he said people can be smart on their own, but are stupid when together.
There's not as much hesitation as there probably should be - probably would be from anyone else - as he steps across the streets of Umite. He darts through the blank faces with their slashed throats, he pays no mind to the blood that gets on him. With the way these dreams are going, he feels like he doesn't need a closer look to see what - who - Hua Cheng has cradled so carefully.]
Will you come with me? [A soft question. In reality, it would be drowned out by the angry cries of the faceless people around them. Here, it rings through clearly.] You shouldn't stay here.
me: grenade launcher thread! also me: not finishing this tag for 20 years
[ Realistically - logically - Hua Cheng knows. He knows himself, and he knows people, to a degree that is both laughable and painful at times. A part of himself knows that this isn't real, because if it were, these people wouldn't still be walking around. This city wouldn't even have a whisper of life left to it. There wouldn't be the telltale curses thrown at him that he remembers from his childhood. Hell, even Wei Wuxian wouldn't be there.
But logic is always fleeting in dreams, even when you're cognizant of the fact it's probably a dream. Such things are buried under the worst thoughts you could imagine, and the ones that you can't.
Loss, tragedy, destruction. The themes are there, and they're known. Hua Cheng scoffs at them in the real world, but it's because they exist here, in memories and nightmares kept in his recall.
Wei Wuxian moves, and the people don't pay him any mind. That dark eye follows him, though, the human intellect behind a monstrous facade still apparent. The hostility is still there, but the disinterest fades when Wei Wuxian's voice breaks through the cacophony of voices, ears swiveling towards him. Something seems to stir recognition in him, refocusing, because even in the worst of dreams... ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
DREAM WALKIN' action!
He's tired of walking through dreams, actually. At first it was better than being trapped in his own nightmares because at least he could actively control the ones he visited, since it was essentially lucid dreaming. But for an empathetic person, seeing nightmare after nightmare of the fears of so many people really wears on you after a while!
Which is why, when he finds himself in Hua Cheng's dream, he doesn't even do anything right away. The entire world could be on fire and he'd just sit on the ground with his head in his hands for a second. JUST A SECOND. JUST... just a second... to rest... It's fine.]
scuttles like crab over to finally
There's a stillness that belies calmness, at first, but that's not always such a good thing. Around them, as Wei Wuxian catches his breath, takes a moment to rest, after what has surely been an exhausting night... the fires burn, smoldering more than anything else now, dotting the familiar streets of Umite. The rivers that he knows like his own pulse are a mess, debris and rubbish filling the usually clean water. Such disarray is, no doubt, not out of place with this night of dreamwalking, but it isn't any less disheartening.
Or strange, when it appears there's no one in the dream.
Besides Hua Cheng, anyways, on his knees in the middle of the street, something held close.
As someone with so much presence, so much height, Hua Cheng always fills a room. His tails - when all of them are accounted for - lend to that quite well. But right now, he's... bigger, yet there's still the sensation of just the two of them in a sea of nothing. And he stands out, too, as he stares ahead into nothing. His hair and fur are wild, almost bristled even where the reddish orange fur is matted, and there's a sluggishly oozing tear in his right ear. It wouldn't be wrong to say that he appears more fox-like than his usual human form shows, either, features sharper and elongated, something nearly feral in the dark glint of his visible eye.
But he turns his head, the moment he realizes he's not alone, and the right side of his face is clawed up, bruised, cut - yet it does nothing to hide the mismatched red eye.
And just like that, the picture of Umite shudders - and is normal again, the place they call home, except the people walking the streets have blank faces that have been shredded to ribbons, their throats torn out and caked with brackish, tacky blood. It doesn't stop a chorus of voices from shouting around them, though - "monster! he's a terrible monster!" "the gods left him cursed, and if you get too close, he'll curse you too!" "how hideous, how ugly, it's so terrible - why don't you just do everyone a favor?" "die!" "die!" "die!"
Nothing about Hua Cheng himself changes, save for a contrary hostile disinterest.
The white figure he cradles against him remains motionless, but somehow pristine all the same, even with the bloody and clawed hands that are used to support it. ]
STRIKES A DRAMATIC POSE
THAT'S NOT GOOD. None of this is good, even if the themes are strikingly familiar. There are a lot of ties between demons and humans in nightmares. Thematic repetitions. Loss of lives, loss of loved ones. Tragedies veering wildly out of control. Being a passenger in a slow-moving wreck, seeing it coming but being unable to stop it. Fire. Destruction. Faceless mobs, angry people coming together in groups to chant and capture and hurt and destroy.
Hua Cheng was right when he said people can be smart on their own, but are stupid when together.
There's not as much hesitation as there probably should be - probably would be from anyone else - as he steps across the streets of Umite. He darts through the blank faces with their slashed throats, he pays no mind to the blood that gets on him. With the way these dreams are going, he feels like he doesn't need a closer look to see what - who - Hua Cheng has cradled so carefully.]
Will you come with me? [A soft question. In reality, it would be drowned out by the angry cries of the faceless people around them. Here, it rings through clearly.] You shouldn't stay here.
me: grenade launcher thread! also me: not finishing this tag for 20 years
But logic is always fleeting in dreams, even when you're cognizant of the fact it's probably a dream. Such things are buried under the worst thoughts you could imagine, and the ones that you can't.
Loss, tragedy, destruction. The themes are there, and they're known. Hua Cheng scoffs at them in the real world, but it's because they exist here, in memories and nightmares kept in his recall.
Wei Wuxian moves, and the people don't pay him any mind. That dark eye follows him, though, the human intellect behind a monstrous facade still apparent. The hostility is still there, but the disinterest fades when Wei Wuxian's voice breaks through the cacophony of voices, ears swiveling towards him. Something seems to stir recognition in him, refocusing, because even in the worst of dreams... ]
You shouldn't be here.
[ ... Wei Wuxian is Wei Wuxian is Wei Wuxian. ]