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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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!"

Lan Wangji takes the towel and red inner robe off the ground and takes another minute to hang them up on the extra towel rack, before stepping out in a matching robe, calves bare.

His hair is still wet, dripping, and it's hard to see from the front, but in the back some of his hair is bloody. His wound has closed, and it's sticky. As long as he doesn't have a concussion, he should be fine. But he makes his way over to Wei Ying, taking a seat at his table before him.

That should make it easier for Wei Ying to inspect his wound and help him clean it out if necessary, and then after that, he can make them tea and they can have a conversation like normal. "Are you alright?" he asks, looking up at him, honestly with the hope that Wei Ying has not sustained any injuries. He hadn't seen any, but they'd been in a bit of a rush.

When Lan Wangji exits in the exact same style of robe, it's hard not to feel like he should avert his eyes. Even when he'd caught Lan Zhan in the healing pools of Gusu, he'd been more fully dressed. His hair is just as sodden as Wei Wuxian's and it almost seems a scandal to see him in such a state.

He only hesitates a moment before joining Lan Zhan at the table, crouching close enough to touch, projecting his actions and waiting another moment before actually reaching out to inspect the injury. Even as careful as his fingers are, it's impossible not to brush against the headband. Luckily, it seems to have stopped bleeding, and with a head-wound that's most important.

"I'll clean it out," he offers; really it's the least he can do. He may not have Lan Zhan's healing hands, but even he can clean a wound and apply a salve.

"Do you keep any medicine here?" At least he knew where the towels, and likely a comb would be, but he could take direction just as easily.

"No," he replies. "I do not trust the medicines here." He doesn't trust the food here either, or drink, so he definitely would not ingest a drug or place on herbs that were supposed to alter his state.

Wei Ying's touch is gentle, and Lan Wangji can tell by his deliberate movements that he's trying to avoid touching the headband. This makes him unreasonably pleased, to know that Wei Ying is taking extra care to be respectful. He has felt recently, there had been some distance between them, until he stood out in front of Wei Ying, brandishing Bichen against those guards, against Jin Guangyao. He had even raised his sword against Xichen, though he doubts blows would have come to pass between them.

He supposes he cannot expect Wei Ying, right now, to believe that Lan Wangji will not just up and leave at his nearest convenience.

"There are smaller towels in the bathroom," he explains. "The water flows out when you put something underneath the spout." How else is he supposed to explain the automatic sink? It had even surprised Lan Wangji.

"Mmm," he makes a quiet sound of understanding. After all, if the medicines were anything like the tea he had earlier, he would probably much rather leave it to heal on its own. It was strange enough (though incredibly fun) to see Lan Zhan drunk, but he couldn't even imagine seeing him affected by one of the odd brews here.

"Alright, wait here," he affirms, before going to fetch what he can. Sure enough, there's hand-towels near the wash basin, and he tests the spout with his hand first, curiously. Just as Lan Zhan had said, the water began to pour, and Wei Wuxian jerked his hand back as he gave a surprised laugh. What an intriguing invention! He made mental note to play with- that is, examine it further, but for now he settled for dampening the hand-towel. He picked up a few more dry ones, a comb, and a palm-sized cake of soap.

He was a bit less cautious in his return, folding his knees beneath him as he knelt next to Lan Zhan, setting out his supplies on the table. He took a large towel first, gathering up his hair, so the soggy mess wouldn't soak through that white robe, and pat it dry, or at least, enough that it wouldn't continue dripping, before settling it around Wangji's shoulders.

Maybe he should have asked, but Lan Zhan had let him touch the headband before, so he reached for the knot at the back of his head, untying it with quick fingers before holding it out to Lan Zhan.

"Wouldn't do for your headband to get blood on it," he says by way of explanation, "I've got to comb your hair out a bit, make sure I clean it properly, okay?"

Lan Wangji gently combs through his hair with fingers as he pulls it to one side so it can be out of the way as Wei Ying washes his wound out. He tenses at first, when Wei Ying touches his headband, but he supposes that this is acceptable. Wei Ying, after all, had grown so brazen as to place a paper talisman of his soul on Lan Wangji's forehead, and had it lean over and tease him.

"Okay." At Wei Ying's suggestion, he carefully moves his hair back into place to become easier to comb, get all the knots out, maintain its silky shine and pin-straight thickness.

There is something comforting about being under Wei Ying's watchful attention, in a room like this. There is an incense burner on the table, and so even though they are not in the Cloud Recesses, he can still burn incense and when he closes his eyes, he forgets the hum of the electric machinery. He can pretend the doors are closed and so there is no wind. And his device can play all manners of sounds - bird calls, rain, night sounds - and he can fool himself; at least he is successful at night in the few moments before falling asleep.

"How does it look?"

He may not be a healer, but his fingers are used to delicate spells and talismans, and he is careful as he combs through the tangles, stopping occasionally to pretty the washcloth where blood has matted. Like most head wounds, it doesn't have to be deep or terrible to bleed a lot. And luckily the damage doesn't seem too bad, especially not for someone like Lan Zhan.

Still, he takes his time, cleans it carefully, then gives it a final comb-through.

"Don't worry Hanguang Jun, your jade perfection is still in-tact," he grins, finally leaning back to sit in a sloppy lotus pose at his side, leaning an elbow on the table.

"You might want to leave your hair down for a day or two though, so you don't agitate it," he suggested. Though it was hard to imagine Lan Zhan going out in public with his without every hair in place, topknot perfectly swept back.

"Looks a bit swollen, but I don't think you're concussed. As long as you don't decide to have any drunken parties tonight, I think you'll be fine."

Lan Wangji is grateful that he isn't more hurt, though it will be quite odd to walk around with his hair down. Usually, only Wei Ying sees him in such a state, though this one has not done, recently.

He reaches behind his head to touch very gently, feeling just how swollen it is and whether or not he should sleep on his side for a few days. He winces just slightly but makes no other sign that he's in pain.

"The swell is not too bad."

Now, with that said, and with his wound addressed, Lan Wangji gets up from his seat to go make tea because Wei Ying is his guest. Even in a place like this, even though he's just sustained a head injury, and even though this isn't really even his home, he won't eschew his personal way of life.

He remembers something the other Wei Ying had said to him, which was that their pasts had differed greatly. He thinks he ought to ask this one, in case there is a third Wei Ying. He cannot imagine three Wei Yings. "Do you remember the cave, where we met Lan Yi?"

A satisfied smile that he's barely even aware of sits on his lips when Lan Zhan approves of his work. With his hair down and such scant inner robes, Wei Wuxian doesn't think he's ever seen Lan Zhan with such a casual atmosphere, and while he knows it can't possibly last, he doesn't mind enjoying it for the moment.

There's... definitely a lot to talk about, and he's not sure if he's ready for what he'll hear. With over a decade between them now, how has he changed?

What he doesn't expect though, is to remember one of their earliest adventures together in Cloud Recesses. He sits up a little straighter, head in his hand as he studies Lan Zhan's features. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"Mn," he nods slightly, "we got dragged down from the healing pool. Took a few hits from that vicious chord technique of hers."

That's when they'd first been tasked with seeking out the Yin Iron, hoping to keep it from Wen clan hands til it could be purified or destroyed. Of course... things hadn't been as easy, nor simple.

"But you didn't call me here to reminisce about bunnies, did you?"

"No," he admits, though he is satisfied to know that this history between them is intact, as it was one of the main things that was different between him and the other Wei Ying. Naturally, he'll have to ask more questions, but at least he is somewhat comforted.

"This place has a magic we do not understand. There are people from other times and other worlds. Multiple versions of ourselves with different histories. The Queen who has brought us here has not explained her goal for us, though she feeds off our emotions. She likes to play tricks that are so far, harmless. Yet, they have sealed our powers, and they have studied us."

This takes awhile for Lan Wangji to get through, since he usually only talks like two words a minute. This is possibly the most he's said in the last year. "We are from different times." How does he explain that he's from a not-so-distant future in which things work out and Jin Guangyao is to blame for those events that happened sixteen years prior? How is he supposed to explain that they are planning to go off together, traveling and hunting? How is he supposed to explain Sizhui, when he never gathered up enough courage to do so in the first place?

It's almost disconcerting to hear Lan Wangji speak for almost a full minute. He finds his mouth hanging slightly askew, partly in surprise, partly because he knows the last thing Lan Zhan would do is lie, so it has to be truth, or at least, the truth as far as Lan Zhan understands it.

Whatever held the power to manipulate history itself... it was much more daunting than the Yin Iron had ever been. He could barely even wrap his mind around it, the idea itself was just... overwhelming. It played on his curiosity though; he already knew resentful and angry energies could be used, but what of other strong emotions? Was it similar? What were they used for? And why?

"That's why you knew about Mo Xuanyu, about how I was able to return," he reasoned. But how much else did Lan Wangji know? How long had it taken him to realize? What had happened since then?

There were a dozen things he wanted to say, and today seemed only a long list of things he still owed to Lan Wangji. Explanations, actions, and even then, it really wasn't enough. He finally glances at the floor, considering. Why is Lan Zhan helping him at all? He'd only been here a day and already the man had gotten injured on his behalf, yet again.

He'd only been here a day and Lan Wangji was already willing to put himself in harm's way for Wei Ying, which should really inform him how deeply he cares, how much he's missed Wei Ying over these last sixteen years. He played inquiry as much as he meditated. He'd drunk himself into several stupors, because one bottle of Emperor's Smile is worth at least ten shots.

But this was how it played out, right? He'd wormed his way back into Wei Ying's life the way that Wei Ying had once done to his. But he can see Wei Ying's legs now, and knows there's no curse on them.

"I knew it was you in the forest. You explained later." Yeah, that was a lot of exposition, and he's back to giving his answers three syllables at a time.

Poor Wei Ying, he'd get certain answers much faster if he asked his other self. Perhaps if he asked Lan Wangji to write down all of it to paper. But no, he had toiled for hours coming up with the right words to say on the invitation he had sent to Jin Ling's one-month party.

While mysteries and dubiously useful inventions were easy to solve, Wei Wuxian was in constant struggle when it came to matters of the heart. He flirted shamelessly, yet barely seemed to recognize it, if it ever came his way. All he could really surmise, was that Lan Zhan didn't seem bothered by him, at least, not the way he used to.

But how could he have explained later when he was here now? Unless time had continued to pass as normal for Lan Wangji, with a different Wei Wuxian, a different path perhaps.

"I explained?" he drummed his fingers on the low table, trying to work his way through that. Was time a single road? Or were there endless branches and possibilities? Should he even ask Lan Wangji about what he knew? Or would that have terrible consequences as well if he returned and knew the future? He was feeling far too sober for this.

"Haa..." he sighed, shaking his head lightly.

"Is there... anything I should know?" he tried at last. Maybe Lan Wangji had more of an idea of why he'd been revived, or about the strange and malevolent sword from Mo village. He'd been gone so long, any little scrap would help, wouldn't it?

That is true. If it's impossible that Wei Ying's consciousness could be in two places at once, then this one was also some other Lan Wangji's Wei Ying.

Then again, most everything about this place was impossible.

He doesn't know how much he should explain. How much will be useful for when Wei Ying returns home? How much of it would cause everyone to think he is even crazier than they already do, and lock him up somewhere even Lan Wangji could not touch?

He will start off with something easier then, and maybe teach Wei Ying a little restraint. He will see how well he can follow along. "A-Yuan is alive," he says, finally. He hadn't told Wei Ying because he was afraid that Sizhui would not remember, and at the time, he had still been pretending to be Mo Xuanyu. It would have been cruel to show him and have him ponder whether or not A-Yuan would accept him, if he even remembered.

It was no exaggeration to say that the tidal wave hadn't hit him as hard as the news Lan Wangji had just dropped on him. He sat up in an instant, eyes wide, hand slamming down hard on the table. He found himself studying Lan Zhan's expression, looking for any crack or reason not to believe it was so.

"A-Yuan?" his voice was soft and he could feel his throat constrict with emotion. He'd been devastated to wake and find that not only had Wen Qing and Wen Ning turned themselves in, but the entirety of the Wen clan that remained as well. He'd seen their bodies as well, left cold and hanging, a sight he wished he could forget, and the thought that A-Yuan might have been among them broke his heart. It was one of the many reasons he'd felt so hopeless in the Nightless City. There was nothing left.

He clung to Lan Zhan's sleeve and he could feel tears that for once today, were completely justified start to build, hot behind his eyes.

"He's alright?" he manages, unable to keep a quaver from his voice. To think little A-Yuan had survived, that even one soul hadn't been completely lost...

"How?"

Lan Wangji does not push Wei Ying away, but rather he rests a hand on his arm, to attempt to placate him. "After that battle, I went to Yiling. I was too late to save anyone, but A-Yuan had hidden himself by your bed." He doesn't say that he thinks A-Yuan was waiting for Wei Ying to come back for him. But he'd focus anyway on how smart A-Yuan was, how clever.

Then, of course, he'd hidden A-Yuan away in the Cloud Recesses, and raised him as his own. A-Yuan had been the only person who could get a smile out of Lan Wangji for just about the entire sixteen years, and when it came to give A-Yuan a courtesy name, a name fit for a man, Lan Wangji had chosen Sizhui. "To recollect," "longing."

In fact, reflecting on the time he'd spent as essentially A-Yuan's father, a smile does crack onto his face. After all, he had given Lan Wangji so many good years. He is sorry that he couldn't have saved more of the Wens, but he will never be sorry that he managed to save Sizhui.

He has to swallow down the lump in his throat. He'd left an empty cave. Their small village had been empty, he'd been so sure, but... Had he really overlooked A-Yuan in his blind anger? Left him behind?

There's a faint smile on Lan Zhan's lips, which means he may as well be beaming, and Wei Wuxian can't help grinning in return, even as a tear falls on his outstretched sleeves. There's guilt, of course, but more than that, he feels overwhelming relief. A-Yuan is alive. Lan Zhan had rescued him, knew he was alright.

"And... is he safe? Is he happy?"

Lan Wangji reaches over with his thumb to brush away Wei Ying's tear streak, and he nods yes, happily, to both those things.

After a second he turns serious, and says: "He doesn't remember you, but he will. Give him a little time." He expects that Wei Ying will behave himself; he even tried to push Lan Wangji out of the way so that no one would think that he was helping him.

Sizhui had never judged him as Mo Xuanyu, and had reserved judgment for the fact that Wei Wuxian had always been painted by others as a villain. Lan Wangji is still cautious - he may accept it if it comes naturally, but he may not want to force remembering.

The touch is shockingly gentle, and he's reminded of another life, another time, when his Shijie had wiped away his tears and replaced them with calming reassurance. He let his eyes close for a moment, nodding as he took a slow breath. A-Yuan was alright, he was safe, happy.

Even the news that he couldn't remember Wei Wuxian couldn't dampen his spirit, not completely. It's probably better if he doesn't, those memories, though speckled with happiness, can't help but have a pall cast over them. No child should have to grow up in the Burial Mounds.

"It's fine," he shook his head, smile faltering for only a moment, "I mean- that's more than alright. He shouldn't have to... I'm just glad he's alive, of course."

He finally remembered to let go of Lan Zhan's sleeve, rubbing his face briefly on the back of his own to clear away any remaining tear tracks.

Even Lan Wangji is tearing up a little watching this, because he does want to tell Wei Ying: he's more than healthy, he's more than happy. He's one of the most well-adjusted, sensible young men I know. He's better than either of us were at his age, he wants to say. I'm so proud of him sits at the tip of his tongue.

He says, instead, "Wei Ying, you would be proud of him." And that's essentially the same thing, anyway.

He knows he has much else he needs to tell Wei Ying, but that can wait for another time. He is selfishly enjoying this moment, this perfect moment that he can treasure, for which everything else can wait its turn.

This is possibly the first time that he'd arrived here, that he feels truly calm. And honestly, he can selfishly hold onto that a bit longer, too.

To see Lan Zhan actually getting emotional as well, he has to turn his face or he'll start all over again. He'd be proud of A-Yuan no matter what, even if all he ever did was sell turnips on the roadside. His heart is throbbing painfully in his chest and it doesn't seem fair that A-Yuan isn't here now, so he can see him, instead of just feeling like he's missed so much.

"Aaah, and here I thought you would've spoiled him rotten. Enough, enough! You'll make me cry again! I can barely show my face as it is!" he sniffles, giving Lan Zhan's shoulder a good-natured swat. Who would've thought he'd actually be hushing Lan Wangji for once?

"I'd say we should celebrate, but I know better than to expect you'd have anything to drink here," he laughs once more, and manages to show a genuine smile for what feels like the first time in ages.

He had, in fact, attempted to spoil A-Yuan rotten, what with trying to fill the void in his heart for having been passed through several families in his short lifetime, only to be saddled with a man who had been the most hated of his clan for awhile, who had mourned ceaselessly. He'd understood why nursery rhymes and lullabies all had such horrible lyrics; if A-Yuan was less bright a young child, Lan Wangji would have sang him his woes every night.

"You may drink, but I will not." He promised that to the other Wei Ying. He won't say it, but he definitely doesn't want to repeat any of the types of things that happens when he's drunk, apparently. Like tying up Wei Ying's hands with his headband. Lan Wangji could break through the strongest of spells, but couldn't help himself after a single shot of alcohol.

"And if you wish to purchase some downstairs, we may have to wait until our clothes are dried." Oh, that's right, their clothes are still wet and would probably need to dry overnight.

"You are welcome to stay."

HAPPY HEARTS HOTEL

I. THE CASINO FLOOR

II. MAKING WAVES

III. EAT ME, DRINK ME

IV. WELCOME HOME

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