"If that's preferred," he says, taking his drink when Ten-Nank remains as they are. All fine by him, not being a man who requires anyone else's attendance to be particularly aimed his way; if he had, it had always been to an end and redirection, growing up. As an adult, it'd been fraught. After not death, and his not quite resurrection, what then?
Resignation, slow learning toward something akin to the hope that'd once lit his way. Hopeless, but in the better way, to surrender to hope again and again, even when it proves scant relief.
"I don't know all that the ministry was asking for, so if you hear me rambling something useless, or not useful enough, please inform this one." A touch of easy sort of respect, to speak of himself in third person briefly, before he finds his own easy place to lean, likewise looking outside.
Circular, and his mind recalls far different environs, Lan Zhan's courtyard, snow that fell beyond the sliding doors. The quiet that muffles silence itself, and the chill sweeps through him without gaining purchase. Does he need to change a setting on his SCA? Fascinating question. He glances down on it, speaking anyway.
"Name, Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian. Is age going to be important? I don't know what to say counts, but in total I couldn't be more than forty-something, the early side, and might count much younger, depending on what's accepted as 'living' versus not and so forth." A flick of his last two fingers on the hand holding his glass, and another sip of alcohol. Cold as it is, the warmth as it burns down his throat is familiar, lulling.
promptly expires twice
Resignation, slow learning toward something akin to the hope that'd once lit his way. Hopeless, but in the better way, to surrender to hope again and again, even when it proves scant relief.
"I don't know all that the ministry was asking for, so if you hear me rambling something useless, or not useful enough, please inform this one." A touch of easy sort of respect, to speak of himself in third person briefly, before he finds his own easy place to lean, likewise looking outside.
Circular, and his mind recalls far different environs, Lan Zhan's courtyard, snow that fell beyond the sliding doors. The quiet that muffles silence itself, and the chill sweeps through him without gaining purchase. Does he need to change a setting on his SCA? Fascinating question. He glances down on it, speaking anyway.
"Name, Wei Ying, courtesy Wuxian. Is age going to be important? I don't know what to say counts, but in total I couldn't be more than forty-something, the early side, and might count much younger, depending on what's accepted as 'living' versus not and so forth." A flick of his last two fingers on the hand holding his glass, and another sip of alcohol. Cold as it is, the warmth as it burns down his throat is familiar, lulling.