Swordforms By Sunset
Sep. 29th, 2020 08:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thesecondjadeThe Milliway's Day has come and gone, with its now thoroughly autumnal Scottish weather and cool air. Nice day, if you like autumn. Full of character, and glorious sunset streaking the sky with layers of pink, yellow and purple. It lays gold on waters of the lake, making it glitter like gems. The cloud cover makes the reds deep, the purples more subdued. It looks like the sunset's come out in gloriously fine wedding clothes, if one is from the East of certain places and choose the two colors as the most lucky to wed in.
As they continue to deepen, one might notice a lone figure in blue robes; his sleeves tight to the arm, bound up in white bracers. The cut of robes emphasizes his broad shoulders, the tight v-line of of his torso as he tapers gracefully into his waist, hugged and defined by his broad belt. He is a pale man, wrapped in warm hues as he works through sword forms in the start of fading light. Cloth flutters about his legs as he moves through high kicks and long leaps, going from stone to stone on the shore of the lake without missing a beat.
Sometimes, he will pause and hold a difficult form-- arms outstretched, leg high, to build his endurance for it. Then he will spin off into another thrust, or parry an imagined combatant.
After all, his brother is right. He can only spend so much time in the library. Sometimes one needs movement to shake complacency off, stir the blood and make the heart beat faster. Otherwise, how can the mind be fresh and ready for study if the body sits in listless torpor, day in and day out? So he turns to the thing he knows he can clear his mind with, leaving it ready for study once he has exercised the body he plans to wear out: study of a more physical sort.
So Lan Zhan, called Lan Wangji and respected as Hanguang-Jun, all but dances through the air, Bichen's blue light and near translucent blade being a single cold counterpoint to the sunlight turning everything around him resplendent with warmth.
As they continue to deepen, one might notice a lone figure in blue robes; his sleeves tight to the arm, bound up in white bracers. The cut of robes emphasizes his broad shoulders, the tight v-line of of his torso as he tapers gracefully into his waist, hugged and defined by his broad belt. He is a pale man, wrapped in warm hues as he works through sword forms in the start of fading light. Cloth flutters about his legs as he moves through high kicks and long leaps, going from stone to stone on the shore of the lake without missing a beat.
Sometimes, he will pause and hold a difficult form-- arms outstretched, leg high, to build his endurance for it. Then he will spin off into another thrust, or parry an imagined combatant.
After all, his brother is right. He can only spend so much time in the library. Sometimes one needs movement to shake complacency off, stir the blood and make the heart beat faster. Otherwise, how can the mind be fresh and ready for study if the body sits in listless torpor, day in and day out? So he turns to the thing he knows he can clear his mind with, leaving it ready for study once he has exercised the body he plans to wear out: study of a more physical sort.
So Lan Zhan, called Lan Wangji and respected as Hanguang-Jun, all but dances through the air, Bichen's blue light and near translucent blade being a single cold counterpoint to the sunlight turning everything around him resplendent with warmth.
