riddleofthebelow

PFSB

The next time Tom enters the bar, he turns round to the portal painting first thing. When he steps away, the rabbits playing poker look much more like proper rabbits instead of rabbit-shaped former canines. He steps back, regarding it, and nods his head. Much better.

Then he takes his stack of research with him to a table and orders a scotch. While Wei Wuxian indeed broke the ward on the mysterious scroll, and Tom was able to translate it, it still makes no sense. He has old maps of London Above to scour for clues today, because the existence of scroll is still bothering him. He doesn't think it's malevolent, but he's even more convinced that there is no logical reason to have found it in the Underside.

Not that the Underside is very logical. You know what he means.

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“The benefits of being here have far outweighed these minor unpleasantries. Such as learning more about how your talismans work.”

He nods towards them, encouraging the change of topic.

"Ah -- " He forces the thoughts away; forces a smile, as he sweeps the talismans back into a neat stack. "Well! I am happy to further outweigh those unpleasantries, then, Tom-gongzi. I do not know how well I can explain it, but I shall do my best."

He pushes his chair back, ready to lead on to the painting.

He stands and readies to follow, saying, "I think what I'm most curious about is how you know what to write on the talismans themselves. Are there specific formulas or patterns that must be used, or do you invest your will into the act of writing itself or are their rites done with the ink?"

Or all of the above?

"Both formulas and patterns, I suppose?" He guides them over to the painting, explaining as they walk. "The runes and characters work in combination, once they are ignited with a spark of energy. An array of talismans amplifies the effect. For example -- "

He shuffles through the stack to display one for Tom.

"This, alone, is a talisman for untying knots that will not come untied. Useful for breaking free of ropes or nets. But if placed with this one -- " Another shuffle; another talisman presented. "It will transmit the same principle on the spiritual level, breaking 'knots' that have been tied with spiritual energy."

They reach the painting. Wei Wuxian grins at the rabbits, nose crinkling, then starts to pin the talismans around the frame.

"That makes perfect sense," he says, watching intently. "I use spoken words instead of written, but it's the same idea. So it's a matter of finding the right combination of spell work to match the problem you need to solve? And then catalyzing it?"

"Exactly." Cheerful. "If the combination does not yet exist, then it is only a matter of devising it. It is also possible to invert a talisman to create the opposite effect -- drawing something in instead of repelling it, for instance."

He pins the last talisman in place and steps back to examine the placement. With a slight frown, he unpins one to shift it a couple inches lower, gives the layout another critical eye, then nods.

Wei Wuxian gestures sharply to the highest talisman with two fingers. A spark of red energy leaps to the talisman and, lightning-quick, races in a web to ignite the full array around the painting. They pulse and crackle against the topmost magical ward, tiny spheres of light flaring and vanishing as the array tries to pry its way inside.

But shortly enough, the web of red over the painting disintegrates, and the talismans flicker out for good.

"I have to admit that I'm relieved, Wei Wuxian. Had you been able to crack it with the first go, I'd have been distraught."

He laughs. "Take heart, Tom-gongzi -- your work is strong enough that it will take more than a junior cultivator's first array to break it apart."

He gets to work collecting the spent talismans from the painting. As he does, he adds, with a casualness only slightly forced, "But I would expect no less with a spiritual tool such as the one you carry."

(He has -- mostly -- gotten over the shock of Lan Zhan telling him what Tom's spiritual tool was made of. Different worlds, he reminds himself again. But oh, what an awful world Tom must inhabit.)

“It’s not just my work,” he says, not preening at all. There’s a lot of different magic protecting the House of Arch.

“My wand has been interesting to adapt to. This is my second - my first was destroyed, and you usually only ever have one - and when it picked me, I wasn’t sure whether it would serve. Dragon heartstring is the most powerful core a wand can have, but my first was a phoenix feather and very rare.”

(No phoenixes were harmed in the making of Tom’s first wand.)

((The dragon that contributed the core of his second lived a long and happy life on a large Romanian dragon reserve and died peacefully in its sleep at an old age with its dragon family all around.))

“The yew, I think, is what makes the difference.”

Concentrating on the talismans gives him time to ensure his voice will stay even; that his stomach will not somersault too unpleasantly when he hears Tom so casually mention the core of his wand. Lan Zhan was right: he does not speak of it the same way he speaks of the rest of his past. His throat clenches all the same.

"Not the dragon heartstring?" he asks, eyes on the array.

“No, because it’s so very common to have one,” he says, noticing a shift in tone.

Funny, didn’t Lan Wangji have a similar odd reaction when Tom mentioned the core of his wand? Perhaps on their world, dragons... are unlucky? Or are evil or unnatural? How dreadful!

“I’m wondering if, much like our magic, dragons are different on our worlds? I know some in the Wizarding world think they can be ferocious or only good for sporting, but I admire them. I’m honored for the core of my wand to be of dragon heartstring.”

"They must be," he says, unconsciously echoing Lan Zhan's words. He's done gathering the talismans, but still shuffles them between his hands, absently, under the pretense of studying the characters. Sometimes there can be slight changes to a talisman when it expires -- a roughness to the paper, a shift in the color of the ink -- but Wei Wuxian has to admit that isn't why he examines them so carefully.

He finally looks up at Tom, steeling himself.

"Dragons are not just beasts, where I am from. To even call them such is..." A humorless laugh, barely audible. "It is disgraceful. They are beings of such spiritual power that we would never raise a finger against them if we had the honor to stand in their presence. And to hear of a world where they are not like that -- "

Wei Wuxian shakes his head, casting his eyes back to the talismans.

"Forgive me, Tom-gongzi. It is a lot to take in."

“Good Lord...” Tom covers his mouth with one hand, his eyes wide.

“What must you think of me? I had no idea that...”

Well. Culture clash is FUN.

“Please, it’s me who should ask for forgiveness, then. I could understand -“

He balls his hands into fists and jams then into the pockets of his trousers and stares down at the floor in a way he hasn’t needed to since first apologizing for being Voldemort.

“If you’d prefer not to have dealings with me because of this, I’d understand.”

If he had doubted the difference in their worlds before now, if he had believed, even fleetingly, that Tom spoke so openly of using dragon parts from malice and not ignorance -- the man's reaction banishes it all like fog evaporating before the sun.

"Your world is different," he says, quiet and steady. "I know that now. It was a shock, yes, but what you call a dragon cannot be the same as what I know. The way you spoke of your own path toward darkness, and how you changed it -- if your spiritual weapon contained the heart of a true dragon, you would have known it was evil. You would not have spoken of it so freely."

He tries for a smile.

"I still wish to help you. How else am I to keep busy around here?"

Tom heaves a sigh of relief and runs one hand through his hair.

"Indeed," he finally says. "Then I'm very glad for it."

It has been a long time since Tom felt that aghast at his perceived evil actions. It's not a bad thing to receive a reminder of how that feels now and again, so he can be sure to avoid actually doing anything that might earn such a reaction.

"Please let me know if there are other things about my way of life that conflict with your own. I'd much rather be aware right away than prattle on like a fool and cause offense."

"I will, if you wish," he assures him, as he inclines his head slightly. "I did not want to cause you embarrassment, especially as I am still getting used to all the differences between my world and others. But it is a very big difference!"

When even Wei Wuxian is thinking hold on, what? and baldly calling something evil, it is very big indeed.

I mean. Seriously. Tom's used to being called out by the Light side types, but not the others wandering along other ways. Except for Andrew.

But while they are clearing things up...

"What is your stance on snakes?"

"They do not bother me," he says, easily enough. "Why?"

Oh, thank goodness.

"I'm a Parselmouth - it's an extremely rare thing in the Wizarding world and almost always the sign of a dark and terrible person-"

Tom rolls his eyes in annoyance.

"-because it means I have an affinity for snakes and I can speak in their language. Others here have been validly afraid of snakes, and I learned a long time ago it was a good idea to ask."

"I see," he says. Curiously, "Are snakes truly so hated in your world, then? That being able to speak with them is enough to mark you as wicked?"

Honestly, Wei Wuxian finds it impressive. Conversing with an animal in its own tongue! What must that be like?

"Well, it doesn't help, for sure," he grins. "Not everyone hates snakes, but most avoid them."

And, uh, it's pretty cool.

"I keep several at the House. They have their own quarters; they aren't slithering about. Even if we had doors, I wouldn't allow them to run amok where they might get trapped or stepped upon by accident."

"A wise arrangement," he agrees. "But you say you don't have doors! Is your house simply open to the air, or is every door a painting such as this?"

He gestures to the rabbits, unable to stop a smile as one of them flicks an ear in response. So much better than those accursed (ugh) dogs.

"Well guessed, Wei Wuxian," he says, impressed. "Yes, it's an associative house, and it consists of rooms found all throughout the Underside, my wife's birth world, and linked together via paintings."

You know what might be easier than explaining this to him? Showing him!

"Would you like to visit where you're trying to break into? It might be helpful for your research, and I take great pride in what I've helped create."

Once upon a time, he had many friends coming in and out of the House from here, and it would also be rather nice to see that past repeat itself.

He brightens. "If you are willing, I would be honored to visit your home, Tom-gongzi. Only..."

And his expression falls, a little.

"I am afraid I am dead. I do not know how long I can leave the inn, or if I can leave at all. I cannot even see the door most cross through."

"Ah, you see, our home is in London Below, the Underside of the city of London, and it's where memories, people, and places end up when they fade away and are forgotten from the living city. In the past, that allowed the House to serve as refuge to many patrons who found themselves here after their deaths and needed a more home-like place to live than the rooms above the bar. Even for the bound, those like you who can't see a door, accessing the House of Arch was never a problem, and there's no reason it should be one now."

There will be a few things to let him know about if he visits because the House of Arch is a unique place, both in feeling and in navigation. Access, however, is not an issue.

Edited 2020-09-13 22:32 (UTC)

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