video | orchestra one, immediately post platform

[jingyeets]

( Lan Jingyi, appearing briefly on ICP, soaked from head to toe, actively dripping water with his hair and ribbon plastered down either side of his face, his, er, nightgown likewise... plastered... against him... and it's white, this is a wet shirt contest and no one told anyone who showed up on platform, they all just suffered together. )

Look, if anyone's trying to find me and is confused why I'm not in my tiny short bed cabin, I'm staying in the "inn" carriage the next week.

( that's it, that's him wanting to inform the ones who'd probably want to know but being in a less than happy mood to track everyone down so doing it in the most broadreaching, effective way the train's got going for it. )

Comments

[deferences]

Understandable. [watching from where he's laying, sizhui questioningly tilts his head, props up an elbow and rests his cheek against it with a soundless sigh.

everything jingyi says hits the nail right on the head in this situation, piercing it deeper, tearing open a wound he'd temporarily bandaged by telling himself there was nothing they could do without answers; it's still true, nevertheless, but beneath his usual calm demeanor, there lurks something ugly: anger, and he hates how it lingers, buzzing like an irritated hornet's nest he can't escape. without realizing, he's shifted again, burrowed underneath his blanket, the edges pulled taut and tucked underneath his chin while he's eyeing jingyi's feet for now.

after he has some form of cover, sizhui's attention upturns, his lips briefly pinched. following a soft sigh,] I know, Jingyi, I feel the same way. [annoyed, frustrated, tired and definitely agreeing that so much of it is stupid despite his not saying it outright. so much so, he's only just now realizing how his hands tremble a little when clenching around the comforter.

there's a slow, steady inhale that comes out in another huff then he rolls onto his back, arms crossed tight across his chest, effectively blanket-burritoing himself. at least we've gotten past the last one for the most part? or so he hopes.] Would you like help with your fur?

[jingyeets]

( part of his response is to flop his tailtip and all its damp fur closer to his friend's burrito'd self. )

Tail if you want.

( the rest he has handled, and isn't sick, to need tending to in that way, but the tufted tails they all have are an easier mutual grooming point that he'd appreciate, partly to settle down when he's frustrated at the nothing he can directly do. he likes doing. for the most part, he's better at it, and supporting as needed, but still... )

Wanna write out complaints and tie them on practise dummies later?

[deferences]

[without second-guessing (and perhaps even halfway smiling as he does), sizhui shifts until he's mostly upright, dipped forward a bit over jingyi's tail, both hands immediately working on disentangling his fur.

if he wants? of course he wants to help, it's in his nature to always do so!

he eventually shrugs his blanket off for better arm movement, nimble fingers combing, gentle yet steady while he considers lan jingyi's offer; it's a far better idea than losing it over people leaving like is usually common practice. part of sizhui's coping method has been screaming and-slash-or crying himself hoarse into a pillow (which is a great release for pent-up emotions and all but does leave his poor throat raw).

a nod,] That sounds like a terrific idea. Definitely better than what I'd had planned... after visiting you, of course.

[jingyeets]

It's hours and hours before anything like sleep. Once I'm dried, we can get to writing.

( writing out the slips of paper certainly due for their complaints, to fight those metaphorical demons of the heart and mind in a constructive way, not to let them take over anything in their heads or hearts.

no deviations, only forward momentum, and taking it out on practise dummies was safe and therapeutic at the same time.

that said, he concentrates more on his warm breeze moving through the fur at his lower back and down to the base of his tail and further, while the tip of his tail lies obedient to sizhui's ministrations. )

[deferences]

Thankfully. [considering he's the exact opposite of tired at the moment.] We have time, regardless of how long that may take.

[besides, jingyi's letting him brush his tail right now, which is a huge win in his book and so he's happily focused on that for however long it'll be. (taking his meticulous, steady motions into account, it could take longer than usual, but jingyi will certainly have the most well-groomed tail aboard the train!)

the writing in and of itself will be curative too, as they can write whatever they want to later attach to a dummy they'll destroy, metaphorically ridding themselves of their problems (yet also sort of physically in some sense).]

Ahhh, [he drawls, brow wrinkled while his fingers work gingerly over a particular spot.] Seems like my next train order ought to include a proper comb to help with tasks such as these.