[pfsb] practicing forms and signs

[lightamidchaos]

He has much to do, much to consider, and at times like this he finds that it can be both useful and soothing to practice sword forms. In addition, he has been working on perfecting the Igni sign, and this will be an excellent opportunity to continue his practice.

As a result, Lan Wangji can be found near the lake at present, working with Bichen and with the occasional flicker of light from his hand.

Comments

[a_reckless_wind]

"It is wholly alien to me," Laurence tells him, and gestures for the younger man to continue.

"But I would enjoy hearing more about it."

[lightamidchaos]

He nods. "One cultivates with qi, the life energy that surrounds and permeates all things. By gathering it from the world around them and allowing it to flow through the meridians, a cultivator may concentrate and refine qi in their dantian, forming a golden core."

He places one hand over the center of his body, indicating the location of his core as he continues.

"The duty of a cultivator is to protect," Lan Wangji tells him. "There are others, but this is paramount. To be righteous. To stand with justice."

He can still hear Wei Ying's voice, speaking their vow beside him.

"We use our skills to defend those who look to us from threats they cannot face alone."

[a_reckless_wind]

"A noble endeavor," Laurence observes.

And one with which Temeraire would no doubt sympathize. "Are there a great many cultivators in your world?"

[lightamidchaos]

"Fewer than there used to be. But the sects are rebuilding, after the war."

He says it matter-of-factly, and pauses for a small sip of tea before continuing.

"There are more non-cultivators than cultivators. It is a path that requires discipline."

[a_reckless_wind]

"I imagine so," Laurence murmurs, thoughtful.

"I wish that you and the peoples of your world might enjoy a long and fruitful peace during which to grow once more."

[lightamidchaos]

"Thank you." He dips his head in acknowledgment. "I likewise hope that soon your war may end, with peace to follow."

"Would you like me to demonstrate a cultivation technique? I do not mean one suited for battle, not here," he clarifies. "Gusu Lan is known for musical cultivation. If you wish, I could play for you."

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence smiles his rare, slight smile.

"Thank you," he says, "that would be most agreeable."

He has very little ear for music, but he's curious about this cultivation – and it will give him some time to collect himself and determine a few more appropriate topics of conversation.

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji nods, and sets his cup aside. He summons his guqin from its hidden storage and places it before him on the table.

As he plucks the strings, beginning the opening notes of Tranquility, flickers of blue light dance at his fingertips.

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence frowns in concentration, watching and listening intently, his tea quite forgotten for the moment. He's never seen anything like the instrument the younger man is playing, nor the blue light which dances at his fingertips.

And he is certain the instrument had not been anywhere in sight previously.

[lightamidchaos]

As he plays, putting spiritual energy into the music, a feeling of calm floats on the air. The melody carries soothing tones, clearing the mind and relieving anxiousness, unhappiness, anger and stress, bringing peace in its place.

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence has always enjoyed music, if not precisely appreciated it the way a true connoisseur might, and he listens now with interest; it is like and not like the music he has heard on occasion since they came to Peking.

It does not move him the way he expects, but it does not follow he is unmoved; indeed, the clear notes and gentle melody have approximately the same effect on him as a gentle rain on dry desert grass. He feels something unspooling in his mind and chest and shoulders, a wash of tranquility soothing the weeks and months of strain and its toll.

[lightamidchaos]

Lan Wangji brings the piece to a close and shifts seamlessly from Tranquility into Clarity. Of all the music he knows that is intended to have a cultivation effect, these two pieces are well-suited for demonstration without causing unintended harm.

Playing both will offer Laurence the chance to discern the difference linked to cultivation, rather than a general feeling which could be attributed to the music alone.

[a_reckless_wind]

Will's mood turns from peaceful to considering as he listens, and now the grass of before is bathed in the sort of radiant sunlight that reveals all details, however ugly or beautiful they might be.

Or, in his case, fears. Fears he hasn't allowed himself to either view properly or name, stubbornly refusing their existence.

He finds now he can view them clearly, and he sees they are neither insignificant nor insurmountable. But the knowledge does not fill him with anxiety as it might have before; only resolve.

And with that same sense of clarity, he realizes that the music itself, the magic Lan Wangji feeds into it, is the source of his illumination; that the songs have somehow both soothed him and brought understanding.

"Astonishing," he murmurs, half to himself.

[lightamidchaos]

It is apparent that Laurence has realized the effect, which is what he had intended to accomplish with this demonstration. Skillfully, Lan Wangji concludes the song, and rests his fingers on the strings once the last note has faded.

"Tranquility," he says. "And Clarity. In that order."

[a_reckless_wind]

"Astonishing," Laurence says again. Perhaps he should disapprove of the manipulation, but then, he's not certain that is what it was.

Not manipulation, perhaps. Guidance, rather. "And indeed they brought both."

[lightamidchaos]

He inclines his head in assent. "Much can be done with musical cultivation techniques. In battle as well as at peace."

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence smiles without humor, his mouth going crooked and wry.

"I imagine so," he says. Peace. Impossible as long as Napoleon continues to crave more and more power and glory. He feels the familiar tug of guilt that reminds him his duty lies elsewhere; not in Peking, but in defense of the shores of his home. "I thank you for your demonstration, Hanguang-jun. It is a rare pleasure to observe such skill as yours."

[lightamidchaos]

"I am glad to have been able to provide it," he murmurs. With a movement of his hand over the guqin, he returns it to its hidden storage.

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence cannot help but approve of this young man's modesty and poise. He has grown used to the more rambunctious officers of the Aerial Corps, but in his heart he misses the propriety of his once-fellow Naval officers.

He nods at the way the instrument vanished. "Clever, that."

[lightamidchaos]

"It is still with me," he explains, "only in qiankun storage. I am able to do the same with Bichen."

He nods to the sword resting beside him.

[a_reckless_wind]

Laurence nods, though he doesn't truly understand; it must be another trick of the man's cultivation skill.

"A sight easier than requiring a sea chest to be brought along wherever one goes," he says, a little dry.

[lightamidchaos]

"Mn." It seems logical, and as such there is no need to belabor it.

"How long have you been far from home?"

[a_reckless_wind]

"I was twelve when I enlisted in the Navy," Laurence tells the younger man, returning to his neglected tea.

"And have traveled extensively as a necessity since. It has been a long while since I considered my parents' estate home."

[lightamidchaos]

He looks a little surprised by that. "You do not return there between your travels?"

[a_reckless_wind]

"If there was time," Laurence says.

It would be impossible – and improper – to detail the complications of his relationship with Lord Allendale to a near complete stranger; Temeraire may be swift in his intimacies, but Laurence still finds himself reticent. "I visited Lord and Lady Allendale – my parents – whenever opportunity arose, though it did so rarely."