Thread by @rarawriting

Here goes my first-ever contribution to #mermay, in combination with #WarprizeJiSeason!!

Lan Wangji wakes as he is jostled down into a hard, uncomfortable box. He blinks, trying to clear the grit from his eyes, but his vision remains fuzzy. His chest heaves, and his skin burns.

He cannot breathe. He can hardly turn his head, let alone move his arms. His mind fills with screams of agony, with the memory of blood in the water.

He wishes he had not woken.

His fin scrapes dry, rocky dirt.

"Careful," a human voice snaps nearby. "Don't damage it."

Hot, rough hands against his scales make him flinch, and he bares he teeth. The hands retreat.

"I'm not losing a hand to this thing," another voice says. "Not for that evil bastard."

"Would you rather lose a hand to it, to him, or to me?" the first voice says.

The rough hands return, briefly, and he is shifted unceremoniously until the box is pressing him nearly in half.

The next breath wheezes in his chest from the dry air and the new pressure.

He can do nothing about it. He lies there, and his body struggles to survive.

A splash of relief startles him. A small measure of water is thrown over him, and his skin, his meridians, his veins, drink it up eagerly.

The rattle in his lungs eases. But only for a few moments.

It is the first water that has touched him since he was dragged from the lake.

He does not know precisely how long it has been. Nearly an entire day, slung in a hammock and sped through the air beneath an unshielded sun.

Now, the too-small box begins to move, bumping and jostling him hard. He feels it digging between his bones, scraping his dried skin raw.

He lets his eyes close against the burning daylight. The humans around him talk, but he has difficulty paying attention.

"...going to do with it?"

Uncouth laughter. "That disgusting traitor. Who knows."

"Sell it for parts, obviously."

"Maybe not. Maybe he'll use it in his evil experiments. Maybe he'll turn it into...you know. Like the ghost general. His own water demon."

"Maybe he'll use it in other ways."

More laughter, and scoffing. Lan Wangji lacks the strength even to fume.

If he were at home. If he were in his element. He would destroy them as he did their fellows, hours ago.

But he can do nothing now. Nothing but wait to die.

Eventually, he feels an uncomfortable, jittery hum on the air, followed by the sudden cool of shade.

They have entered a forest, he thinks. But this forest...it is Wrong. It is full of hatred, and violence, and the promise of grisly death.

They stop abruptly, and the humans around him have gone quiet.

Everything has gone quiet.

And then:

"Yiling Laozu," says the first voice, smoother now, "greetings from Lanling Jin."

Silence, and then a cold voice responds.

"What business do you have here?"

"Jin-zongzhu wishes you good health, and sends you a gift in good faith. To show his...hope. For your friendship."

An undignified snort answers this. "Jin-zongzhu has never wanted anyone's friendship. He wants obedience. He should know better than to ask me for it."

The threat is strangely palpable. The air crackles with his words.

Lan Wangji has the sudden, wrenching urge to swim away.

"This one assures Yiling Laozu of Jin-zongzhu's sincerest intentions. The bonds of the great sects have never been stronger, with the impending marriage between Yunmeng Jiang and Lanling Jin."

This silence is the longest yet.

"Impending marriage," says the cold voice, clipped.

"Ah, of course," the first voice goes on, "Yiling Laozu would not have heard. The ceremony is in half a month. It would be a shame if the gathered parties had nothing but ominous news from this area. If they...got to talking. Of shared slights."

More silence, though it seems the air is filled with roars. It is a feeling in Lan Wangji's mind, and not a sound in his ears. He understands, even in this state, that it is the doing of the human with the cold voice.

"Jin-zongzhu only wishes to extend the hand of friendship," the grating voice goes on. "To ensure peace. For all."

"I do not take kindly to threats, Jin Guangyao."

The shadows whirl madly.

"Not a threat. An offer. Would you not like to see what Jin-zongzhu has taken great pains to send you?"

Lan Wangji's chest seizes. When he was taken from the water, he accepted his coming death. He has not often felt fear. But he feels it now.

The human that has been speaking, the vague yellow shape in front of him, moves aside.

Lan Wangji's vision is filled with writhing black shapes, centered around a dark figure slashed with red.

His wasted muscles flinch and tremble. He has never felt the weight of such powerful resentment. He tries to curl in on himself, but cannot.

"That--is--what. What is that?"

Lan Wangji almost does not recognize it as the cold-voiced speaker, his tone is so changed.

"One of the Creatures of the Lakes, a Lan of legend, captured just this morning for the enrichment of Yiling Laozu's luck, as well as his coffers. Jin-zongzhu sends his regards."

"What have you done to him?"

"They cannot survive long out of water, it appears," the first voice says. "But we have brought it to your lands alive, so you need not fear. Its lifeblood will fertilize your soil, its dissipated core will magnify your cultivation, and its scales,

bones, and hair, will bring protection and bounty to all who wear them. Of course," he allows, "Yiling Laozu may do with his gift as he pleases."

Lan Wangji cannot make out what precisely happens next. The silent roaring in the air grows, turns to screams, turns to real sound.

The resentment bleeds through the atmosphere, soaking everything in the stench of death. The barren boughs overhead clatter wildly, and the yellow shapes around him shift uneasily.

"Leave, now," says the cold voice, cold once more and sharp as steel.

"Does Yiling Laozu not--"

The cold voice transforms into the bellow of thousands in chorus.

"GET. OUT."

The humans around him scramble. They shout at each other, and a few of them try to lift Lan Wangji's prison.

Thick coils of churning resentment slap them away, their skin sizzling.

And then Lan Wangji is alone beneath the trees, surrounded by cold, potent rage.

His breaths come fast and shallow, the urge to flee coursing through him, but he can do nothing but wait.

And then, moments later, the resentment recedes. The forest calms.

A tall figure looms over him. A human, dressed in black, with long dark hair. Lan Wangji cannot make out anything more.

It extends a hand toward him, and Lan Wangji flinches away.

It makes a hissing noise. "Sorry. I won't hurt you. I'm just going to--"

It presses cool fingers to Lan Wangji's throat, so gentle as to be barely felt even by his chafed, burning skin. And then it sucks in a breath.

"Okay. Come on."

It goes behind him, and Lan Wangji is being pushed painfully along once more, this time with a demon at his back.

(Warning that this thread is vibes no plot and WILL contain smut, which involves fish person anatomy that I am making up as I go! Things will come out of places and go into places on mer!LWJ 😅 so ic the potential language involved squicks u, I'll warn again when it's coming. ❤️)

The Wens are waiting for Wei Wuxian at the edge of their camp, right at the boarder of the protection he's set up against the natives of this cursed place.

He tsks at them as they stare open-mouthed at the...person. In the cart he's currently pushing up the hill.

"Did I or did I not tell you to wait inside?" he calls to them.

None of them so much as look guilty, and he grimaces.

"It's rude to stare!" he yells as he nears.

He sees the moment they get a clear picture of their new...guest. Their faces turn from interest to mild horror.

He knows the feeling. He hasn't been able to look at him for long - his dessicated, graying skin is too tight over his sharp bones. He looks like he's a corpse already, though life still thrums faintly through his veins. His scales are dull and opaque, and look ready to fall off.

"Wen Ning," he implores, "get everyone inside?"

Wen Ning's wide eyes lift from the cart to Wei Wuxian's face, and he jumps. He starts trying to herd everyone away. It doesn't really work.

Wei Wuxian pulls Chenqing out.

"I'm going to play for our guest," he says darkly.

Everyone goes shifty, and they shuffle hurriedly away. Wei Wuxian sighs, and finally looks at Wen Qing, who is staring not into the cart, but at him.

"What?" he says, stopping dead.

She crosses her arms. "What is this."

"Ah...a gift. From Jin Guangshan."

Her eyebrows go high. "Is it, now. And what is the occasion?"

He sighs. He's had enough of politics for one day. "I don't care. Can we help him?"

She blinks. "Help him."

"...I'm pretty sure he's dying."

She stares. "That's what he's for. If he dies here, we'll be able to grow anything we want. Forever."

"Wen Qing! You can't be serious - you're a doctor. Look at him. We can't just...are you serious?"

She arches one sharp eyebrow and steps forward to take the Lan's wrist.

It pulls weakly against her hold, but she is, as ever, gentle but firm. She shakes her head.

"I don't know how to treat him, but I can guess. He needs to be in water first, after that, we'll see."

"What water? The stream isn't fit to bathe in, let alone live in, and there's--"

She looks over her shoulder, and back at him. He follows her gaze, and sighs.

He worked so hard to grow those lotuses.

He pushes the cart to the makeshift pond.

"Is this muddy water even okay for him?" he asks.

"It's going to have to be. A-Ning? Come over."

The Lan is slowly reaching one shaky hand toward the pond. It's piteous to see. His eyes are still closed, or nearly so, as he first saw them, so it's impossible to say how he even knows the water is there.

Wen Ning shuffles over and carefully grips the Lan under his frail arms.

Wei Wuxian gets his hands beneath his tail, about where a person's shins would be. The scales feel brittle under his touch, the muscle beneath unbelievably delicate.

The Lan shakes like a dead leaf as the touch him.

The deep anger and sorrow at seeing the legendary, ethereal beauty of such a rare creature reduced to this...he has to work to keep it under control. The very air wants him to get into it, to fly after the Jins and destroy them all.

But he won't. He can't.

Carefully, so carefully, they pick him up, and lower him into the shallow water. The length of him, his long, delicate fin included, doesn't quite fit. But as soon as he's mostly submerged, he seems suddenly to come to life.

He thrashes away from them, turning up mud and lotuses as he spins, curling himself against the back wall.

They can still see him, muddy and trembling, but he manages to fit all of himself beneath the surface. As he settles and goes still again, he's hidden by the dirt and dim.

"Well," says Wei Wuxian, wincing at the carnage of his lotus pond, "he can move now."

Wen Qing nods. "For now. Though how I'll check his pulse now, I don't know. If you can figure out a way for me to see to him, let me know."

She turns to stalk away, back to her work.

"Me?" Wei Wuxian calls after her. "How should I find out? I have...things to do! You're the doctor!"

"He's /your/ gift," she calls without turning back. She throws up a hand. "Your problem."

Wei Wuxian turns back to the now-still water, and stares at the vague shapes of man and tail.

"Well," he says. "I guess we'll have to figure this out, then."

The muddy pond does not answer.

(That's it for today! Coming up: A-Yuan meets a new friend, maybe some communication, and WWX is forced to admit where the closest substantial water is located [hint - more lotuses]...here's the top!)

https://twitter.com/rarawriting/status/1531786313174618112?t=QOKqWBc3qSZiL9wgZGHCZA&s=19

Wei Wuxian really does have things to do. He has new inventions to tend to, new things to sell and to help keep them all safe here, and wild spirits to tame before they so much as try to test his wards.

But there's a tightness in his chest. A fear that if he so much as looks away from the Lan, something will happen, and when he looks back, he'll be floating belly up like a fish.

It's ridiculous. Especially since he really doesn't even know if he's alive now anyway.

There's no way to tell without scaring him badly again, not yet.

But he's no good at gentling frightened animals. He doesn't have the knack.

He pauses, eyeing Chenqing as he twirls it. He thinks of A-Yuan's drooping eyes when Wen-popo sings him lullabies.

Softly, he plays.

He plays as the Wens go quietly about their business, well away from him and the pond and their guest. He plays as the sun begins to go down, until it would be gilding everything if not for the gray pall over this place.

The water does not move.

He keeps playing, soft melodies from his childhood, as he stands and makes his way over to the other side. He reaches out, tentatively, to touch the water at the edge of the pool.

The surface snaps and roils, and a shock of energy bolts through his fingers, up his arm.

"Ah!" he shouts, stumbling back, landing on his ass. He shakes out his hand, pain still fizzing in his blackened meridians. "Fuck. Well. At least you're alive."

He stares at the Lan's general location, and realizes he can see two dark eyes staring back from the murk. He freezes.

"Hello," he says.

He's never introduced himself to a creature of legend before. He's not sure what the etiquette is. Not that he's known for his etiquette anyway.

Still. He should try.

Slowly, he goes up onto his knees, and circles his arms in salute. He bows.

"Wei Ying, courtesy name Wuxian," he says. "It's an honor to meet you."

The eyes don't blink or waver. Their gaze is uncommonly piercing. Definitely intelligent.

"Can you...understand me? If you could tell us how to help you, we would."

The eyes cut to the side, looking around, fearful, before disappearing.

Wei Wuxian sighs and sits down. He scratches his head. Clearly he's not helping matters.

He goes inside and gets back to the one thing he can do: his work.

Um ok @UnrollThread then?