funnyhearts | TEST DRIVE MEME 001 (#2)

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TEST DRIVE MEME 001 (#2)

HAPPY HEARTS HOTEL

You wake up in a padded box. It rocks, gently, as though suspended in mid-air. You begin to stir, confusion or distress pushing you to try to sit up — and then the air begins to smell sweet, and you fall back asleep.

You wake up in a padded box. For a moment, you are beatifically calm. You don't know how you got here, or why, but that isn't really all that important. You don't need to know where you are. You're just... here. And here is a wonderful place to be.

But there is a niggling suspicion growing in the back of your mind. A suspicion that here is not somewhere you wanted to be. That it is not where you're supposed to be. You remember... chasing a white rabbit (or was it a person)? A mirror? Bright light, and green ivy crawling over your skin... Before you can worry too much, the box jolts, and then settles, and after a long moment the walls fall from around you to reveal —

A hotel lobby?

"Welcome to the Happy Hearts Hotel and Casino," says an attendant behind a desk. "We're so pleased you could join us for our grand opening gala. We have your room keys and Empathies here, please make an orderly line and we'll hand them out once we've confirmed identities. After that, feel free to explore the hotel! We highly recommend starting with the casino. Everyone's a winner here in Happy Hearts!"

Is this normal? It doesn't feel normal. And hey — you could swear you had shoes before!

I. THE CASINO FLOOR

As you pass through the entrance to the casino floor, an attendant passes you a small bag of chips. The casino is loud and bright and filled with games of every kind — you want to play poker? They've got a table for that. Sabacc? There's a table for that, too. Slots, pachinko, and bingo are just a few of the other games on offer. The attendant in the lobby wasn't lying, either — everyone who plays wins. Everyone, every time.

Servers wander the floor with trays of shotglasses full of multi-coloured liquids, offering them to every Oyster "Compliments of Her Royal Highness." If you're expecting alcohol, though, you'll be surprised — these drinks are teas made of the distilled emotions of every Oyster in the hotel. Each colour of tea corresponds to a different emotion, and as soon as you take a sip, you feel overcome with that emotion.

JOY — the distilled essence of happiness, this tea makes even the most rough and tumble of Oysters giddy with happiness — for a moment. The effect fades into a general sense of contentment and affability after a few seconds, and that itself fades away slowly over the course of twenty minutes.

ANGER — this tea, anger in liquid form, can make the most even-tempered of Oysters ready to absolutely blow a gasket. For twenty minutes, anyone who drinks this tea will find themselves much more easily annoyed, frustrated, and all around irritable and snappy.

SADNESS — distilled sadness is a potent tea, capable of turning a stoic, stalwart Oyster into a blubbering mess in moments. Events that may have previously only been a minor disappointment become the end of the world, every repressed unhappiness comes to the fore, and for twenty minutes, any Oyster who drinks a sadness tea can hardly keep themselves together.

II. MAKING WAVES

If gambling isn't to your interest, there are many other areas of the hotel to explore! For the moment, only The Pool Of Tears and the Pig & Pepper Buffet are available for Oysters to peruse, but the staff assure anyone who asks that the other facilities will be open by the next day. Unfortunately, that means no one can buy any swimsuits from This Elegant Thimble, but the staff aren't going to kick anyone out of the pool for jumping in in their clothes!

There are four main attractions to The Pool of Tears: the pool, the jacuzzi, the wave pool, and the lazy river. The water is always just the right temperature, clean and clear and refreshing. It feels as if the sun shines down from above you, warm and comforting. Scattered through the pool area are clusters of modern lounge chairs, just waiting for someone to come relax in them. The Pool is, in a word, serene.

But not for long. The waves generated by the wave pool begin to get choppier, and larger, until it becomes clear that the generator itself is malfunctioning — too late, however, to avoid the tsunami that crashes through the whole Pool and leaves it flooded. Thankfully, no water escapes into the rest of the hotel, and the hotel staff work quickly to rescue those trapped in the Pool and drain the flooding — but you better hope you can tread water until they get to you!

III. EAT ME, DRINK ME

The Pig & Pepper buffet serves lunch foods from across all different cultures, offering something for everyone, and some things you've never even heard of.

On offer with these lunchtime dishes are cookies and biscuits and scones of all kinds, held on tiered trays with signs that proclaim Eat Me! in delightfully whimsical calligraphy. Nearby, hotel staff man a small booth for doling out cups of fruit waters from large pitchers, which have Drink Me! painted playfully on their sides.

It takes a while to feel the effects — perhaps you've even left the Pig & Pepper by the time it happens — but those who eat the cookies and scones inevitably end up growing in size, whether a few inches or feet, and those who drank the fruity water similarly shrink. Eat enough and you might strain the ceiling; drink enough and you'll be the size of a thimble! It's not permanent — if no one else can help you figure out how to get back to normal, the staff certainly will — but it's definitely inconvenient!

IV. WELCOME HOME

Maybe you just want to be alone — well, that's what you have your room key for! Oysters room on the second and third floors of the hotel, one to a room. You were assured your room would be exactly what you'd always wished for — and for some, that's right! It's exactly as you would have decorated it yourself. But for others, their rooms are totally wrong. A grizzled cowboy can't have a pink room! Hotel staff are firm, though: every room is exactly as its owner wants it to be. Search your feelings, Oyster. You know it to be true.

On each bed are the Oysters' personal effects, minus weapons, as well as a towel folded in the shape of a heart, and a single foil-wrapped chocolate. If eaten, the chocolate is delicious, and incites a feeling of tender warmth in Oysters — not lust, but a desire for closeness. Why spend time in your room, when you could go find a new friend in the casino?

Welcome to the (second!) first TDM of Happy Hearts, a new panfandom roleplaying game here on DW! If you have any questions, please direct them to the first comment on this page. Happy playing, Oysters!

PREMISE RULES FAQ TAKEN RESERVES APPLICATION MOD CONTACT HIATUS & DROPS WORLD INFO NPCS CALENDAR AC REWARDS

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When he'd hoped for people to question, Wei Wuxian could not have imagined that the first familiar face he'd run into would be none other than Hanguang Jun.

He could feel his stomach sink. He'd managed to get out of the Mo family estate without being noticed, and even survived the awkward meeting in the forest with clans of Lan, Jiang, and Jin all present. The mask wasn't a great disguise, perhaps, but it wasn't as if people expected the Yiling Patriarch to be traipsing through their towns over a decade after his death! Even at the height of his infamy, few knew him by face alone, and fewer still were likely to recall his looks after so many years.

So to hear his name called so familiarly was about as shocking as being dunked in icy water. He barely makes it two steps before Lan Wangji has caught hold of him, and he's stuck making shaky and uncertain eye-contact. He wants to bolt, but honestly where would he run? He wants to hide, but again, the middle of a pool isn't exactly spectacular for such things.

"Y-you're mistaken!" he insists.

It's his last line of defense, weak as it may be, and he has to look away as he says it, tugging lightly at his wrist, "I'm Mo Xuanyu."

He'd already met the Wei Ying who looked like Mo Xuanyu. Now the one wearing Wei Ying's face wishes to say he's Mo Xuanyu. This is giving Lan Wangji a headache. But he doesn't let go, instead just looking at Wei Ying, trying to find an answer.

He also remembers that Wei Ying is not from his own timeline, that alternative things had happened to him. Perhaps this is the same way. Perhaps they never met up again, and Wei Ying has had to be by himself. So he says, "I believed you."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "I should have stood by you." He will not let Wei Ying believe that he is all alone in this world, or in the world before. Somewhere back there, his Lan Wangji is waiting for him, is still searching for him in every note he plays, and is tortured by his dreams and his own failures.

Despite how he pulls, Lan Wangji's grip doesn't loosen, and he's stuck in this uncomfortable confrontation. The lie does nothing to help. Whatever this strange interlude has been, he's sure Wangji will be dragging him back to face judgment, to pay for his crimes to-

"I-... What?" he has to blink a few times, unable to follow this sudden turn in conversation. Believed him? He's barely said a handful of words to Lan Wangji since being revived in a new body, and none of it had been the truth!

Lan Wangji seems so earnest in what he's saying, but the context is lost on Wei Wuxian at first. I should have stood by you.

His mouth falls open and he probably would've lost his balance, if not for the strong arm holding him there. Wei Wuxian's lips quirk in a nervous smile and and empty laugh that falls flat.

"What're you..." he shakes his head. "What kind of trick is this?"

Because really, that's all it can be, can't it? His own brother couldn't even stand him in the end, what reason did Lan Wangji have to think he'd done wrong? Who on earth would think they should have stood by the Yiling Patriarch? He can feel his heart speed up, the breath tight in his chest.

"At the Nightless City," he answers, face serious, eyes looking directly at Wei Ying in the way reserved for him, as he had always been peerless, politely averting his gaze. And yes, he had fought on Wei Ying's behalf. He had been the one trying to pull him back up the cliff. With his arm slashed, broken, and bleeding onto the rock below, he couldn't lift Wei Ying up.

If onlies plagued his dreams, and then his daily thoughts, until they consumed him. He thought a brand would quiet them. He thought the whips would have tired them.

"Not a trick," he says at last, and finally lets go of Wei Ying's arm. It's useless to say such a thing here, when no one else is around. Here, there's no one who thinks of Wei Wuxian as the Yiling Patriarch, no one who would sooner have him hanged than ask him a question first. He cannot prove that his intentions are good, and so, he says no more.

He can only hope that Wei Ying gives him a chance, and believes him. There is another Wei Ying here, he reminds himself. So no matter what, he will not walk alone. That is all he can ask for.

As if reading his thoughts, Lan Wangji continues, confirming his suspicions. At Nightless City. It's hard to remember much after his Shijie's dying words, her form lifeless in Jiang Cheng's arms, but it's there in flashes, in the main families united against him, in that dissonant melody that seemed more his own delusions, in facing down Bichen's blade, the rage of his brother's sword, and in the flicker of white that held him for just a moment longer.

His throat feels tight as he swallows, for once at a loss for words, when so often they tumble carelessly from his lips. Lan Zhan, for all his efforts, how did he still believe he owed Wei Wuxian anything?

He'd known the moment he said it that it couldn't be true. Lan Wangji didn't lie, didn't tease, didn't of all things joke. There were rules in place to discourage just that.

When Lan Wangji's grip finally eased, Wei Wuxian's arm fell uselessly to his side, his own grip nerveless and uncertain.

"Lan Zhan," his voice is quiet and soft and it takes more effort than usual to find what he wants to say, but Lan Wangji at the very least deserves absolution. To think he's held on to such a thing...

"You didn't do anything worth apologizing for," he insists, trying to ignore the weak feeling in his knees. He's caught for a moment by those intense eyes, and has to look down, look away, as guilt hangs heavy in him as well.

Lan Wangji knows they are both evenly-matched for wills. Wei Ying, possibly even more so, as he is the one of them to have gone to his grave.

Lan Wangji had played for him, played concertos and symphonies and operas for him, alone in the Silent room, for sixteen years. He'd drunk until he forgot. He'd burned enough paper money to send to Heaven to make a poor man into an emperor. He'd broken his sect rules every waking moment that he'd mourned.

And yet, Wei Ying stubbornly persisted through all of that.

So who is Lan Wangji to argue with him on any point?

"Wei Ying. You have not been here long." Of course not. Because of course Hanguang-Jun is the first to find him. He always will be.

Another silent moment passes, and Wei Wuxian dares to glance up, still pinned by Lan Zhan's gaze. There's something he's missing, in the gaps of memories, something he's told himself was always just his own imagination running wild. He knows he owes Wangji far more than a few simple words, even if they are some of the hardest to say.

Wuxian could hardly lie to him at this point, not after such an admission. A faint smile turns at the corner of his mouth, but it's more wistful than his usual lighthearted and wide grins.

"No," he shook his head, trying to loosen that uncomfortably tight feeling in his chest, "a couple of hours maybe."

But a puzzled look crossed his face only a moment later, "but you can't have been here long either, Lan Zhan. I saw you, in the woods, just before I was brought here."

He'd been wearing that laughable mask, of course, but at the time it'd been enough to keep away at least a little suspicion.

"Time works differently here," he answers. For one, apparently much more time had passed back home for him. Or, he was an entirely different Wei Ying. There already was another one, so as Lan Wangji's luck would have it, this one was probably also not the one he had known. In soul, yes, but in memory, no.

"I have been here two days," he adds. He knows, from all this reaction, that he must've just been resurrected, or else, must not have run into Lan Wangji in the woods. Perhaps the Mos had not requested help from the Lans.

"Tell me all you remember," he commands. Well, it's softer than a command, but it sure isn't a request. This Hotel and Casino was getting stranger and stranger as time went on. As he tried to answer more questions, none came, only more questions.

It both was and wasn't an explanation. Of course he'd heard tales of similar things. Spirits that could trick a man into thinking he'd been gone a day when hundreds had passed around him, or days that felt endless, but were only a matter of minutes. He couldn't help a frustrated sigh, but... hearing Lan Wangji admit he'd already been here for two full days? He knew better than to think the man might be lying. That was even more impossible than something manipulating time.

"I left Mo village, a little ahead of you and the juniors," he said after a moment. He'd been careful not to be spotted, and left once it was certain the great Hanguang Jun had things well under control.

"I was heading toward Dafan Mountain, but the Jin clan scattered a bunch of spirit-capturing nets all over the forest. I was... caught up in a discussion with Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling when you arrived with the Juniors, but you all left shortly after. I was just stopping by the riverside for a drink and..."

He shrugged a little sheepishly, but there was little point in hiding it. If Lan Zhan had a two-day start on him when it came to information, then it could only help to solve the problem, "there was a rabbit, a little white rabbit, like the ones in Gusu, so I followed it and... that's the last thing I remember."

"Hm," is what he says in response to that. It doesn't answer the question, is this the Wei Ying from his world, but at least it answers what had happened. He'd not been resurrected for very long, then.

Which means there is a lot that Lan Wangji could catch him up on. But that could happen later.

"This place... has stripped us of our powers, and it feeds off our emotions." He frowns as he explains. "The Queen has not told us what it is she wants. Do not trust the food you are given." He'd tried tea and turned small. He's not going to tell that to Wei Ying.

Then, he notices the wave start to come in, stronger than it had just been. Perhaps they are mimicking a tide. He decides to ignore it, turning his attention back to Wei Ying.

"Things that are impossible... can happen here." He doesn't elaborate much on that, in typical Lan Wangji fashion.

It was hard to tell if that was enough to satisfy Lan Zhan, but there weren't follow up questions, so it seemed enough. Wei Wuxian still felt overwhelmingly like he was in the dark about it all. Would it do any good to ask Wangji what his memories were before arriving here? They'd parted ways, the most he could reasonably expect was that he'd traveled a bit further up the mountain.

But his reaction had been so much more emotional than he was used to seeing Lan Zhan. Why had that been the first thing he said? I believed you, and I should have stood by you. Was it really such a desperate regret?

The moment had long passed, however, and he left that mystery for another time. For now, there was a problem that required attention, and putting his attention toward a cause was what he did best. He was... probably less concerned about being without powers than he should have been, that being the reason he'd taken up demonic cultivation in the first place. If their way was blocked, maybe there was another path?

"Ah... that..." it did explain a few things though. Namely that awful tea he'd tried while looking around the Casino earlier. He'd had the most undignified crying fit he could recall since he was a child just after drinking it.

"Or the drink, I suppose," he said, somewhat morosely. He could really go for an entire bottle of actual wine. Maybe two.

As if on cue, the still waters of the pool seem to gain a will of their own, but the water was far too clear for any lurking aqua demons. What else would cause it? It's nothing crazy, just barely stronger than a tide, but each wave seems to grow larger. Does this pool actually run with the tides somehow?

"Things that seem impossible are often just misunderstood," he counters. Growing up in the Jiang clan had taught him that there was no reason not to try to make the impossible happen. Lesser men often found solace in the word, thinking nothing else could be done. But Wei Wuxian had always seen it as a challenge.

To have seen Wei Ying again, and for him to have tried to hide from Lan Wangji as their first interaction: yes, yes it was such a deep regret. It cut through to his bone, left scars on his back, made him panic even at the chance to think there was a universe in which they were strangers.

That is not an explanation he wishes to give Wei Ying in the moment, which is all fine because he moves on from that subject rather quickly.

As the tides rise and he gives them an uncomfortable second glance, he turns his attention back to Wei Ying.

"There are two of you," he says. "The other one did not regain his body when Mo Xuanyu gave up his soul." Yeah, that's what he means by impossible. It's not a challenge to overcome, just one to break ones' brain on. "And two of me," he adds. "Though the other one has gold eyes."

Lan Wangji's answers only bring to mind more questions. Two of him? A version of him that was stuck with Mo Xuanyu's likeness instead of his own? It wasn't as if he'd tested the Xianshe before, his notes had been mostly hypothetical. Sound, sure, but it was easily possible.

"You know about..." he trailed off, thoughts racing to catch up. Wangji knew about how he'd been revived, knew that things ran deeper. He wasn't Mo Xuanyu, certainly, but this vessel had once been his. A soul had been given so his could live again.

When he mentioned the Lan Zhan with golden eyes, there's a spark of recognition. He could swear he'd seen a man in the Casino who was so like Wangji it should've been impossible, and yet the tiny differences gave him pause, especially the eyes. Like a distorted reflection, or a fuzzy memory.

"Lan Zhan, that's-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish the thought, as a stronger wave hits, knocking him off-balance, even in the shallow, waist-deep waters. Wei Wuxian stumbles into Lan Wangji's, gripping his shoulder for support as he rights himself, only to pull his arm back quickly, remembering how Lan Zhan would so often bristle at his touch.

"I- sorry, there's... much to talk about it seems. But this place hardly befits a friendly reunion, I'm afraid," he sputters. If the waves grow any higher, there's going to be real trouble. Especially if even Lan Zhan is without his cultivation powers.

Yes, of course he knows. Lan Wangji looks at him directly, which he does with hardly anyone else. There's a reason he doesn't, and it's because it makes other people uncomfortable, the way his stare is so intense, the way his eyes are so clear.

But then the wave hits, and Wei Ying grabs his shoulder. Instead of jerking away as he once might have done, he moves to try and catch him, to steady him, as he had done outside on Lotus Pier when Wei Ying collapsed.

Wei Ying is right. "Let's leave."

The water seems like it's getting impossibly high for the fact that this is all technically indoors, and unfortunately it seems as if Lan Wangji's ability to jump higher was due to his core, as he wades through and stumbles around like a normal human being.

He walks with determination but unhurriedly, gracefully, though the water around his legs seem to recede; he knows that it will only come crashing down on him but instead of running, he casts a worried glance over to Wei Ying.

Which is silly, really, because the Jiang sect spends so much time swimming, and surely Wei Ying is one of the strongest. He cannot imagine a world in which Wei Ying does not jump into the water whenever appropriate and sometimes when inappropriate.

Lan Wangji's gaze doesn't waver, and Wei Wuxian has a feeling he's holding onto a lot more answers, but now doesn't seem to be the time. He can feel a steadying presence at his side as he regains his balance, but there's no time for appreciation. The waves are starting to crash outside the pool, flooding the surrounding area. His outer robes and sparse belongings lay in a sodden pile and he scrambles to grab them before they're swept away, not realizing just how much the water seems to be receding, rather than gaining ground.

Speaking of, the ground is beginning to rumble with the coming wave, and while his swimming prowess might help, the idea of being knocked around without so much as a scrap of power isn't exactly appealing. Belongings in hand, soggy, and dripping, he scrambles after Lan Zhan, muttering curses.

"Lan Zhan! Which-"

Unfortunately, he doesn't make it far before a wave several times his height comes crashing toward them. At least he remember to take a deep breath before it hits, as the wave knocks him from his feet.

Lan Wangji attempts to run now, but he hadn't taken off his clothes off to swim so he has about four layers of cloth weighing him down, and is unable to fly through the air as he usually can. He leaps anyway, as Wei Ying comes towards him instead of out of the line of danger.

His arms are outstretched as Wei Ying gets knocked off his feet, and Lan Wangji cradles him in a protective embrace as he rolls in midair, trying to use his own body as a shield as gravity takes hold and they fall to the ground underneath the deafening crash of the wave.

He lets go after their tumble, and there's a little bit of blood where he's hit his head on the solid rock that lines the pool, but he hasn't noticed it yet. He hasn't even gotten up yet.

The waves rock and send them careening, but oddly enough, there's something solid surrounding him. White envelops him and what he'd thought would be a heinous slam into the nearest surface, is instead a rough sort of tumble, and he draws in a shaky breath as the water ebbs away.

He puts the puzzle together quickly though, as he sees a pile of white robes. Lan Wangji is lying oddly still, and he can feel a sick, cold weight in his stomach as he hurries to his side, shaking him with some worried urgency, one hand checking for breath before his eyes fall to the blood.

"Lan Zhan? Lan Zhan!"

Lan Wangji slowly gets up, though he tries to hurry because there's no telling when the next wave will be. "Move," he commands, looking quite like a drowned rat for once. But a broken leg didn't keep him from walking as steadily as he could, and lashes to his back did not keep him from holding his head high, so neither will this stop him.

They are too near the exit not to just leave, and thankfully everyone else is more or less cleared out. All the better, because for the amount of time the next wave takes to swell, it seems like it will be even greater, and maybe even shatter through the glass enclosure surrounding the pool.

"Follow me," he requests, once they make it outside. He makes some attempts at trying to corral the crowd milling outside of the pool to get away from it in case of breakage, and herd them over towards the staircase so they may take leave of the entire floor.

Even injured, Lan Zhan doesn't spare a moment, does he? Wei Wuxian can't help hovering for a moment, making sure he doesn't wobble or need a hand, but when he hears the command, he nods, gathering up what he can and running toward the exit. It's sloppy, but they manage, and even warn away some folks headed for the pools.

He's halfway up the stairs and they finally seem out of danger, so he lets himself drop his load of sodden clothing and catch up with Lan Wangji.

"Lan Zhan!" he calls, "Lan Zhan, slow down, come on, you'll get blood on your nice whites, at least let me check!"

Lan Wangji turns around. Why has Wei Ying dropped all his clothes? He has his hand behind his back the way he always stands so tall and proud, and there is a flicker of pain in the way his brows knit. He betrays nothing else in his face or his movements.

"Not here," is what he says, as he turns again. "My room is not far." He does blink a little bit, thankfully not facing Wei Ying. His head feels heavy and throbbing; he will no doubt have a headache at least for a little while.

And their bodies don't heal as they should. He doesn't worry about that for now.

No one else is on the stairs, but they are still out in the open. He would really rather resolve this with just the two of them.

Are they really not out of the way enough? Wei Wuxian grumbles and makes a face, bending to pick up the dripping cloth. So much for being concerned.

"Alright, they're not my clothes, after all," he says with a shake of his head. Red and Black make far more sense anyway. Blood stains barely show at all!

He lets out a huff and waves for Lan Zhan to lead the way.

As if Hanguang-Jun has problems washing blood out of clothes. But anyway, it mostly sticks to his head, and gets in his hair instead. His poor, poor glorious hair.

It isn't long before they reach his room, and though he opens the door and that itself takes a keycard and looks like the rest of the hotel, the inside appears to look just like the Silent Room.

There is only one difference: in the corner there is an open doorway, leading to a small lit area painted blue to resemble the sky, and there is a white pebble courtyard. From this angle, it looks almost real.

Lan Wangji opens the door to the bathroom, which also breaks the illusion and looks modern, and holds out his hands for Wei Ying's clothes. He plans to hang them up to dry.

Wei Wuxian feels exhausted by the time they reach the room, and he can only guess how Lan Zhan is still standing after getting knocked around like that. He watches with interest as Lan Wangji uses the strange key, and like the flat card is a talisman, it opens as if activated.

The room though, is probably the only architecture here that's made the least bit of sense. It looks an awful lot like Cloud Recesses, which... really that's so like Lan Zhan.

He's so busy looking around the room, it takes a moment before he realizes Lan Wangji is waiting on him, and he dumps the sodden pile into his arms sheepishly.

"Do you have anything, ah... dry?" he can't help but ask, his inner robes still soggy and clinging to him without the slightest bit of decency. Last time Lan Zhan saw him like this, he'd literally vomited blood, so he wasn't about to risk exposing himself when Lan Zhan already had a head-wound.

He doesn't have any stale blood today. He does, however, have a fluffy white robe and towel that he hands to Wei Ying. He takes the sodden clothes and goes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, leaving Wei Ying outside with the robe and towel.

He takes the bathroom because it will take longer for Lan Wangji to hang up the clothes and get undressed, peeling all his layers off slowly, checking himself for other wounds, toweling off and also putting on the matching one. Aside from the fact that all of Hanguang-Jun's clothes have such delicate fabrics and ties, and are of good make, he doesn't look too out of place.

He knocks on the door to check if Wei Ying is done dressing, before he opens it.

Still, not a word. Well, at least that much hasn't changed. He accepts the dry clothing and as soon as the door is closed, takes his time toweling off before wrapping the robe around him. It's not really the sort of robe he'd expect, the fabric is a strange texture, and the robe itself hovers just above his knees. He'd almost think it child-sized if not for the wide shoulders.

Well, beggars couldn't complain about their choices when they were free. He tied the thin belt at the waist, not honestly sure what to do with the soaked red robe. Letting it drip on the fancy floors seemed a bad idea, so he set the towel down and left it in a heap on top of that. At least the towel would keep the floor mostly dry. Once finished, he couldn't help snooping around, inspecting the miniature courtyard. From a distance it'd almost seemed to lead outdoors, but up close, the details only disappointed, artificial and bleak. Pity.

There's a knock from the room Lan Zhan had disappeared into, and while he very much wants to tease him, or play a prank, he manages to keep his composure. Lan Zhan did just get injured for his sake, whether intentionally or not.

"Out here, Lan Zhan!"

HAPPY HEARTS HOTEL

I. THE CASINO FLOOR

II. MAKING WAVES

III. EAT ME, DRINK ME

IV. WELCOME HOME

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