sorrowandsorrow | Open Post: Welters

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Open Post: Welters

It's probably been noted before, but Janet's not actually dumb. The people of this mansion are varied and mercurial. They're not like Fillorians, some of whom are little bitches but who were largely cow-eyed and willing to accept her authority just because she was a pretty girl from another world.

So. She has to win people over. Maybe everyone needs a little fun to take their minds off things. Conveniently, welters is absolutely Janet's idea of fun. There's a bunch of insane rules, violence is encouraged, and you win if you're good at magic and being bossy.

The mansion grounds are also a little tempestuous as to their character, but apparently the master magician toying with all their lives is feeling charitable today. She's found a big, flat stretch of undisturbed grass, and she's sketching out welters squares with a piece of chalk.

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Aw. What a gentleman.

Janet trusts Luo Binghe only about five percent more than she trusts Claudius, but that's still more, so: why not? It takes her a moment's effort not to start explaining welters to him, because she knows he's going to be an ass about it, at which point she'll yell at him and then their little alliance will be ruined. "Sure," she says. "Drinks on you." It's a meaningless distinction since nothing here costs money, but still.

Luo Binghe has very little familiarity with alcohol. He drinks wine at his banquets, from rice, plums, or whatever the current fashion. But since it has no effect on him, he doesn't bother with it on his own time. Thus, the various rooms of the mansion outfitted with alcohol are a mystery to him. But he takes Janet to one, and stands uneasily by the rows of bottles, feeling that if he cannot pay for the liquor, he should at least serve her. "And what drink does a queen favor?"

There's the vaguest sense of discomfort emanating from Luo Binghe, which Janet can't help but savor. A girl's got to have the upper hand at something.

"I'll take an old-fashioned," she says brightly. Yes, this is a little mean. No, she doesn't feel bad.

She is playing with him. How is he meant to know what the old fashioned style of drinking is, in her world? He keeps his irritation off his face, and opens a random cabinet, hoping that the magic of the mansion will provide. A glass rests there, full of an amber liquid that smells like bitter citrus; perhaps that's what she wants.

Luo Binghe sets it on the counter, and bids the mansion create another one for him. He is determined to extend a hand to her in friendship, and he knows what a powerful broker of treaties alcohol is, even if he doesn't favor it. He will drink what she drinks, to show his trust. "It seems the mansion is familiar with the fashions of your world, unfamiliar though they are to me."

Oh, mansion, you're such a pal. Janet smiles and takes hers, and even clinks her glass against Luo Binghe's before she swallows a healthy sip. "It's been pretty cooperative to me," she says. "I even found a bottle of Fillorian wine the other day."

He's a dick, obviously, but a dick whose favor could be useful, so she'll try to play along: "What do they drink where you're from?"

"My palace is stocked with hundreds of fine wines, but some favor stronger liquors distilled from grain." This topic does not interest him. He takes a sip of the beverage. The flavor is complex, with sweet, bitter, and aromatic notes, all skillfully enhanced and blended by the sting of alcohol. "The ancestors of your world have much wisdom to cherish," he tells Janet.

As Janet takes her next sips, she also slides into a seat along the bartop. The cocktail's not bad, although she could have made a better one from scratch herself. She's a little rusty, but she used to be really good. She smiles sidelong at Luo Binghe, tickled by the sight of the insanely handsome man with his pecs out taking a delicate sip of an old-fashioned. "Oh? You like it?"

"The flavor is new to me, and yes, I like it." He takes another sip and returns her smile. Even if they are not to be wed, he still wants to charm her. But even though he already mentioned Claudius, he doesn't want to get to business matters right away. "Despite my intentions the last time we met, my admiration for your combat skills were sincere. Some of my most favored wives are formidable warriors. It's a trait I admire greatly in a woman. How long did it take you to learn your art?"

Some of his most favored wives, oh my God. Janet gives herself a little pat on the back for not immediately groaning or laughing. What a pig.

"Depends on which part of my art you're talking about." She swirls her drink, watching the orange peel slide against the side of the glass. "I've known how to do magic for about ten years now. Maybe more. The axes are a little more recent as an acquisition, but I think they like me." That's a lie: she knows they like her.

Fascinating. Luo Binghe has never heard of axes as spiritual weapons. He once had a sword that liked him—Zheng Yang—but it would be difficult to say that of Xin Mo, despite their close bond. Xin Mo is more like a barely restrained attack dog that respects its owner enough not to turn on him, as long as Luo Binghe keeps it well fed. He swirls his drink in contemplation. "You wield them well. In my world, lessons in qi manipulation and weaponry go hand in hand. In what manner did you channel your ice powers before you acquired them?"

"In the manner of a lot of hard work," Janet says dryly. She was never the most fanatic worker amongst her friends -- that honor goes to Alice, obviously -- but you don't make it through Brakebills without busting your ass. "Ice magic is my specific thing, but it's physical magic more broadly. You know, manipulating physical objects. I know a guy who got stuck with minor mending as his thing, which is so lame and obscure they couldn't even diagnose him. They just lumped him in with us Physical Kids."

"My general deals in ice magic," Luo Binghe muses. "Then some element of it is inborn? You do not choose your domain?"

This is pleasant talk, but Luo Binghe has a purpose here. For the sake of forming an alliance, he is suppressing his body's rapid healing in order to allow the alcohol to take effect. Impatient for it to pay off, he takes a more generous swig of the drink.

Janet watches this with obvious amusement. She takes a measured sip of hers. "Slow down, there, big boy," she says, but then she continues, in order to actually answer his question: "Yep. They test you when you get to Brakebills, a little while into your first year. The professors there have seen a lot of shit, so they can usually figure it out. Tell me more about this ice magic general."

Luo Binghe's mouth twitches. If he could show her Mobei-jun, rather than speaking of him, she might show more interest. The heavens know he has enough admirers in court, not that the man has ever noticed—and not that he'd be inclined to act if he did. He seems to love nothing so much as doing whatever Luo Binghe tells him.

"He is considered one of the great beauties of the demon realm," he says. "Taller even than myself, and broader, with a cold demeanor to suit his powers, but an unshakable loyalty. He is not the most astute tactician," he allows with a laugh that—if one were very familiar with Luo Binghe—one might recognize as fond. "But a more devoted and fearless general you could not ask for. He crafts blades from ice—the power runs in his family, but stronger in him, I think. Demon children often do not survive if they're not powerful enough to fend off their elders, who have no desire to relinquish their assets and titles to an ambitious youth." He is feeling the first touches of the alcohol—a slow, warm burn throughout his chest.

"Demon children," Janet echoes slowly. "Sounds fucked up."

Also, it sounds like she kind of wishes this great beauty were here instead of Luo Binghe. She's not stupid enough to say that aloud. "I guess I'm starting to understand why you kicked my ass."

"I am coming to understand that things work differently here than how I'm accustomed." He's almost embarrassed to describe how they usually work. It seemed so natural in his world, but everyone here has acted like every woman immediately falling for Luo Binghe is even more far-fetched than living in the realm of demons. "In my world, if I met a beautiful woman and we engaged in cutting repartee and a rousing clash of weapons, we would be wed within a week. It has happened thus many times. If I acted wrongly by the standards of your realms... It wasn't my intention."¹

¹So close to, but not actually, an apology.

There's no way to answer that other than an incredulous laugh, but Janet does actually kind of get it. Books that turn out to be real, huh? Luo Binghe's book, if that's the deal here, must have been a real doozy.

"Within a week? What's the wedding planning industry like where you're from?"

He waves this away. "It's not complicated. At most there are new robes to be sewn and a betrothal gift to be sent to her family, and the palace kitchens might prepare a banquet. But often my marriages happen in a state of some emergency. Curses that can only be broken by a virgin bride, or poisons that require—a cure that would be indecent to administer to an unmarried woman. And other such common affairs. In those cases it may be enough to simply perform the three bows symbolically." He can't even count how many rushed weddings he's had in caves, with some convenient rocks standing in for parents. "Or—sometimes some young woman's overly ambitious father will entrap me and attempt to force me to wed her, at the risk of some political or military consequences. As an attempt to ally their house to the Emperor. In those cases I would of course be forced to execute him, but typically the daughter is so grateful to me for rescuing her from under the thumb of her oppressive father that she implores me to wed her anyway. It would be rude to decline."

Come to think of it, when was the last time he went this long without a wedding? It's strange to think of. At first he was deeply disturbed by the coolness with which women responded to him in this place, but not constantly preparing for the next wedding has given him some space to think. He still cannot imagine life in his own world without his harem, but now that he has explored the pleasures of the flesh with Sagramore, it's difficult to muster enthusiasm for his usual nonstop pursuit of new wives. And he is nearly sure that if he had pressed the question of marriage with Nina, they would never have become friends. He's been viewing the mansion as a place where he is permitted to try new ways of being, but talking about his old life brings into relief how incompatible those new ways are with everything he previously knew. He drains the rest of his drink.

So, it's been a while since this conversation, but Janet still remembers that chat she had with Weird Demon Wine Guy. The one with her little revelation about how all the people here are protagonists. That's slipped her mind since then, to some extent -- but maybe not anymore, because the way Luo Binghe is talking is the most main character bullshit she's ever heard in her life.

"First I was starting to understand how you kicked my ass," she says, "and now I'm starting to understand why you talked to me like I was two seconds away from hopping onto your dick."

The relief he feels at this statement surprises even Luo Binghe. It's just that no one else has understood. "I believed this mansion to be a trap designed by one of my enemies. Naturally I was attempting to find whoever it was I was meant to court. And you must know yourself to be striking.¹ I'm still not sure it isn't." When he suppresses his powers like this, his tolerance for alcohol is very low. His head spins. "It is either a gift from fate, allowing me a different life than what I was born into, or the cruelest trap I've ever known, and I am falling for it utterly."

¹Without the vocabulary to say it, what he means to express is that Janet also has important character energy. Like seeing a famous actor in an episode of CSI and knowing instantly they must be the murderer.

Janet raises her eyebrows. She's about halfway through her cocktail, but maybe Luo Binghe needs another one. She shuts the cabinet and reopens it solely to get it to produce him a refill, which she slides toward him across the bar.

"If we're in a trap, and you think it's set for you, then what's the bait?"

Ah. He came too close to something he does not want to reveal. "Let's talk about Claudius. What are your impressions?"

"Asshole," Janet answers easily. She actually could reveal a lot more about Claudius, given what she knows, but that's still in her back pocket for later. "I don't trust him. And I definitely don't think he should be in charge around here."

Luo Binghe is delighted. "I could not agree more. He is not to be trusted—an underhanded man who wears civility and a flattering tongue as a cloak to hide his true nature. He would no doubt turn such a role to his own advantage."¹

¹Whereas Luo Binghe wants to rule for entirely altruistic reasons. Obviously.

"Yeah. I don't trust him as far as I can throw him." Janet's nursing her drink a little more, but getting closer to the bottom, which means it's tasting better and better as she goes. At least her alcohol tolerance is pretty solid. "I don't know -- he gave me a whole intimidation show about my qualifications, but I haven't exactly seen him around doing a lot of mansion-conquering recently, either."

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