milliways_bar | [OOM + EP] - The feelings haven't changed, and neither has the pining.

Lan Zhan has been here since Wei Wuxian arrived.

This does not mean that he is constantly at the man's shoulder -- though he's often nearby in the background when his zhiji socalizes or trains, just in case. Still, he finds time for his own studies and pursuits, like study in the library, or creating a small space on the porch that is not too cold to play the guqin in.

Today, he's at a low table in the bar proper, seated before it. On the table is a packet of notes that are on magics that are forbidden - curses, spells woven by the Yiling Patriach, recently brought out of their hiding spot and re-copied for use in study only. His handwriting is much neater than his zhiji's, but if one knows Cultivator magic, this is most certainly dark stuff.

Which is fine, this is research in counter-curses. He is once again pouring through notes on the Songs of Clarity, wondering at what he might find to help counter such things. If there is a way to soothe Mo Xuanyu's cursed pain, perhaps they can buy themselves more time for their quest. Anything that will keep Wei Ying breathing longer.

Tucked to the side? Lesson plans. He's still teaching, after all, and he has to give the juniors something to study in his absences while he travels with Wei Wuxian looking for solutions to the little curse problem -- or whatever poor soul has to die to fulfill Mo Xuanyu's thirst for vengeance.

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....oh.

Oh, that's...

Oh.

"Lan Zhan is too good to this one." Wei Ying knows better than to go with his gut reaction, but he's absurdly grateful for the acceptance he hadn't hoped for.

"Mn," replies Lan Zhan. He knows he is, but he is okay with that. Wei Ying, as he has mentioned, deserves nice things. They've been over it. So nothing more on that needs saying.

Wei Ying is slowly realizing that Lan Zhan fully intends on doing and saying incredibly and outrageously nice things, and just tacking it all under the 'Wei Ying deserves nice things' clause, one that he has not at all agreed to. And to think, people call him shameless.

"Lan Zhaaaaan, you cannot just say such things without warning." He whines, without any real heat. Telling Lan Zhan not to do something is like ordering a river to flow uphill. "So, do you want to come?"

"Does Wei Ying want me to come?" Lan Zhan asks, empty tea cup in his hands.

After years with juniors, traveling, and working for villages in all sorts of places, Lan Zhan can handle far more stress and noise than he used to. Paris still seems like a frightening ordeal with too much, it seems like you could fit the Nightless City several times over in it.

A small place with two shouty Jiangs? One by Sect and the other simply possessing strong Jiang energy? Eh, he'll be able to live with that. Especially if he has time to just be still, while those two do things together that Lan Zhan does not have to be invited to.

Wei Ying knows what Lan Zhan is doing, but... he doesn't know how to answer this. Of course he wants Lan Zhan to come along, there has never been a time that he's actually wanted to be alone. But he has already been such an imposition, he's sure - randomly re-appearing , causing strife between two of the major clans, dragging Lan Zhan away from his duties and his (frankly adorable) juniors. Everything that is selfish in him wants to demand that Lan Zhan come on this adventure, something lighthearted and easy and nothing at all like what will face them in the world later. Every trained response says he should refuse, let poor Lan Zhan get back to his life as much as he can, stop taking up so much space in such a ridiculous fashion.

Wei Ying groans and buries his face in his hands. No matter what he says, he's going to feel like he's done it wrong, somehow. Maybe if he just didn't go to France at all? But that idea brings it's own bitter pain, as he is looking forward to a bit of rest, away from over-sharp memories.

"I will come," Lan Zhan says, removing weight of the decision from Wei Ying's shoulders. He will come, they will have time together, he will be able to get to know this Zenigata Koichi better, and they will have peace before the journey.

It is what is needed. He can endure one very loud man. Hell, he tolerated Jiang Wanyin for months during the Sunshot Campaign, he can handle Zenigata for a week.

"Thank you." Wei Ying breathes, relieved. He knows he is over-thinking this, making it entirely more difficult than it needs to be... but that doesn't stop the 'what ifs' and the anxiety accompanying them from spiraling. "You will like it, I think. If nothing else, the food is good."

Wei Wuxian says the food is good, but who's measurement?

"Spicy?" Lan Zhan asks, cocking one delicately arched brow. He needs to know right now if there will be things he can eat and not die.

"No, no... not French food that is, though there are places that serve food that is spicy, from other places." Wei Ying explains with a laugh. "We won't go to those places."

Now that he doesn't have the big decisions to make, he's happy to order the little details.

"Mn," Lan Zhan replies. That's helpful. (Especially because there aren't going to be any of those places in rural France. "How does one dress?"

Zenigata wears strange clothing.

"... Perhaps it is better if I show you? It isn't entirely outlandish, but it is certainly very different." Wei Ying offers, not sure there's enough explaining in the world that can describe those clothes.

"I..." Lan Zhan actually has to stop and think about this. Wei Ying in strange clothes? Okay, he has to learn about it. But at the same time, Wei Ying changing for him. "Is it like what I see in the bar?"

"Some of it? I may have been very vocally against Zenigata's style at the time, and Bar provided something a little more shaped, with layers, in my colors." Wei Ying had basically gone on a rant about public decency while partially drunk and got rewarded for it.

"We will need to go to your room."

He finds the rooms here weird, but not impossible to live in. Just... weird.

Wei Ying grins, and picks up his plate to return it to the bar, and get some clothes. He's happy to show Lan Zhan something that he knows that's not... tainted. Spoiled with memories or associations from a past that hadn't been kind. He returns with a neat stack of folded clothes.

"Ready for a fashion show?"

By the time he's back with clothing, all of Lan Zhan's study material has vanished into the depths of his sleeves. He rises smoothly, and gestures. Yes, he will follow.

He will always follow Wei Ying.

Wei Ying rambles on the way up to the apartment he uses from time to time, about the time in France, focusing on the nicer things - lovely patisseries, gardens full of life, ornate architecture. Less about the crowds, or cities stretching as far as the eye can see, or waiters outrageously flirting.

He opens the door to a small, standard apartment - a living room with a couch and a table, a bedroom off to one side, a bathroom off to the other side. It doesn't look much lived in - Wei Ying has only been here a handful of times, usually either just to clean up, or to crash when he was too tired to make it back to the little settlement safely. Safely-ish. Whatever.

"Make yourself comfortable, and I'll see if I can remember how these all go." Wei Ying instructs.

After some very intense listening, Lan Zhan sits on the couch as instructed. He's not comfortable with how soft everybody makes their cushions here. Don't people want to get up? Do they need to sit so soft? This world -- worlds -- comforts are strange.

So he sits up, Lan straight-backed and everything, and waits.

It takes a few minutes for Wei Ying to remember how all of the buttons and such work, but eventually it all starts going together again. He swans out into the living room, in the outfit he wore in France the first time - dark fitted trousers, a blood-red billowy shirt under a black vest, a dark coat with red lining. He looks leaner like this, less layers to hide an underweight frame, but he's still doing his best to work it.

Wei Ying is... shaped.

Shaped like a person. Not like robes that are too many sizes too big, or hemp-spun handmedowns. No. He is a person shaped person, in clothing that flatters his person shape.

Lan Zhan may need a minute here; the strangeness of the clothing is only so distracting from the fact he can see the shape of his legs, the cut of his hips, how his shoulders angle out. He can see the things that robes often hide.

Certainly, Lan Zhan knows the power of a well-cut garment; it's one of his few vices. One should not be vain, and one should not dress ostentatiously, but Lan Zhan likes clothing that gives his body length, displays the cut of his shoulders, and yes, the trimness of his waist. Wei Ying was never that well clad as a youth, but mostly because while the Jiangs were well off, they were still trailing behind both the Lan and the Jin. (The Nie -- with one exception -- had a preference for utilitarian clothing with little art to it.)

To his credit, Lan Zhan does not stare. He just looks. There are many layers, but they are all shorter. No layers over everything, just layers in spots. Everyhting is so much more... open.

"Does everyone dress like this?" he asks, trying to imagine a whole city filled with folks from the bar like that.

"This is admittedly more formal than many of the people I saw." Wei Ying laughs, "But I felt horribly underdressed in less. I kicked up a bit of a fuss about it." Even this is a little... under, what he'd pick for himself, but no one had found it odd, before. He fiddles with one of the cuffs, making a face - his wrists look even weaker than usual in this get-up, without padded vambraces providing both protection and a little disguising bulk.

Watching Wei Ying begin to fiddle with his wrists, Lan Zhan has the urge to grab them, to press him down and make him stop. He lets it pass through him -- letting him do no more than rake his gaze across over the other man and allow himself only the look. He cannot touch, but he can look.

"I would need to dress similarly," Lan Zhan begins to ask as he puts his mind back to the topic of the trip itself, "to blend in?"

"Something like this, certainly, though I would not protest if you went in full Gusu Lan glory and started a new fashion trend." Wei Ying grins impishly - though in truth he'd probably die of jealousy of everyone fawning over the obviously gorgeous Lan Zhan.

"But I asked for other things! Maybe there's an option that suits you more."

"What do you mean?" Other things? There were more styles? Then again, this wasn't much like what Zenigata wears, or what Rae Seddon wears. (Rae is in so much eye-searing color, while Zenigata's clothes are more like the Nie: utilitarian and not at all aiming for style.)

"Evidently there are all sorts of fashion choices, this is just... one of them! I'll admit I don't know much about it, I'm not Nie Huaisang. I wasn't paying nearly enough attention to the clothing for his preferences, he'd be so ashamed of me." He snorts, and saunters back into the bedroom.

Perhaps he remembers that at least one person had admired his ass in these trousers. Perhaps he's not sure if he's still really got it, but his little hopeless crush is too much to help him resist the moment.

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