[ Solomon would know, wouldn't he? Jing Yuan thinks it, leaning again into the touch, despite the contrasting sensations; the slight cool feel of a small metal mixed with the warmth from that hand.
Then, Solomon starts to bring up the matter of roles, something he once had vaguely touched on before, but now properly. Surprisingly, he does not flinch even after the switch of that touch, to his collarbone. Maybe, perhaps, a slight shiver. ]
You might find how difficult it is for one such as myself to 'rest his mind' except when I am able to silence my mind completely. Yet...
...You must understand well, as one who lives eternally. Time and time again what we treasure is bound to slip through our fingers. That which lies in the past, which we have resolved to move beyond, but which mercilessly grabs at us no matter how far forward we step. That which enormous power cannot change no matter how much one has obtained.
The weight of sheer responsibility behind a "role" that one has "accepted" but must carry out again and again...as a dire necessity. Otherwise, all shall be doomed to fall apart in front of one's eyes.
What it means, to have not completely forgotten yourself, even after everything was said and done. And during everything that still remains to be completed. Though, for myself, it is only a matter of time...you understand. Even if I breathe every day as an immortal, I may one day forget all of what I am.
...This is the moment, granted to you, my dear Solomon. You and yourself alone.
[ Then, Jing Yuan leaves it that, touching upon some aspects of his troubles without diving too deep. The further he goes, the more reluctant he feels, and in his heart he doubts even Solomon would wish to grasp the enormity of it all. But he doesn't tell him what he has because he feels he has to, rather because there is a part of him that wishes Solomon to know.
And...if later on, the man thinks even this too much of a burden, he will be fine with that too. ]
[He sits quietly, carefully, giving Jing Yuan his full attention with only a nod here or there. But thenlonger Jing Yuan goes on, the more that tightness in his chest digs.
He know. Oh how he knows. But even at this twisting surface level, its sounds as though it haunts Jing Yuan in a far more tragic form than Solomon could ever see for himself.
With how carefully Jing Yuan skirts around his wording, Solomon at least recognizes this is not the moment to pry too deeply. Instead, the hand against his chest finds one of Jing Yuan's palms, plucking it up to rest in his own, to squeeze it gently. No words just yet. No pity.
Just an ache, an understanding, of what's been touched at so far in the majority.]
Do you fear you will follow in your master's footsteps? [Here he'd thought it might have been an illness, a curse...] You speak as though it's inevitable.
[ Jing Yuan gives out a small sigh at this, fingers squeezing lightly the hand that had given a comforting one in turn, and he holds it firmly even after that.
Solomon's actions speak something close to keen understanding (or to seek it); far better than pity which would rankle him deeply. Far better to look at him differently, for the possibility of what he could become. ]
Mm, perhaps I would not call it simply fear. Rather, an expectation of it...as it is inevitable. Such is the fate of long-lived 'human' Xianzhou Natives.
[ Jing Yuan says so because he thinks it is. Idly, he remembers when Luocha spoke of there being a possible cure for Mara and he jumped right on it, only for everything that came after to cover up whatever that segue was, true or not. ]
There are ways to manage avoidance of it for a time, and I have certainly done better than most. Many my age or a century younger have succumbed. There are many factors that tend to accelerate its development, or so is theorized.
...As for my Master, she was well past the usual expected age for deterioration when she was struck with Mara.
Another ticking clock to line up with the rest. Not even the immortal were exempt.
...]
...She seemed like she did her best to keep it very clear what her wishes were. Since that was inevitable, and not just poor luck... mmm. [It putss some things into a new perspective, but only in the details.]
Is Mara an illness you contract? Or something that's just innate to your people as you age?
[Deterioration makes him think of the more common diseases in the elderly - of joint and muscle and mind. What here was deteriorating?]
[ Jing Yuan nods at the comment regarding Jingliu, though he imagines it is because Jingliu always had excessive fate in him, more than anything. Knowledge of what kind of abilities he had before he cultivated them completely, even when he was rather young.
Feeling the tense fingers within his own, he lightly squeezes them once more. ]
It is something like an innate illness, though others have compared it simply to aging. [ Jing Yuan has a different opinion, evidently. ] Either way, it makes it worse than an illness that can be simply 'contracted'. Once it occurs, most tend to undergo an entire bodily transformation at some point; though some may initially display a change in eye color for a time. But, even that minor alteration would give way towards an appearance no longer recognizable as one's original form.
Other symptoms of Mara can be signs of memory problems and abrupt, chaotic mood changes. Though, in general, the condition can be exacerbated by outside stressors.
[ Typically, soldiers succumb to Mara quicker than civilians. Jingliu, having been well over a millennia old at the time, is an outlier. ]
...I doubt there is anything that can be done to stop it permanently.
Someone once taunted me about knowing a possible cure, but I am certain he only stated as much in a last-ditch attempt to gain leverage.
[ So, Jing Yuan will not say otherwise; indeed, as it stands, he doubts there is a cure at all. He is an optimistic man but he is also not one to give a false impression about a matter this dire. ]
A very high improbability, perhaps. But if there's room for doubt, there's room for possibility in equal measure.
[A sliver of hope, illogical as it is. He holds it for Ibuki with all his might. Would he need to do so for Jing Yuan, too?
...
...
There's so much he could say. Antecdotes he could try to pull, or wisdom he could try to impress. But it's not a situation needing a teacher, nor an elder. It is a cruel reality, deserving of the trepidation it brings. So he holds the quiet, bringing his other hand against Jing Yuan's own to cup it tightly.
There is no condolences to be had for aging. But for the scars it left behind, the fears that were just as vibrant as a boy of ten or young man of eighteen, contained only out of necessity...
[ Jing Yuan does, in fact, hope with all his might.
Where others would scoff bitterly at the idea, he does not. There is a reason that he, not being the type of person anyone can consider anywhere near a "researcher" and more the type to be inclined towards simply the leading role he has been accustomed to for centuries now, has researched the topic thoroughly. ]
Perhaps there is.
[ Even as he says the words, they are spoken quietly for once, his voice holding a chord of emotion he would be too prideful to name. As if he is afraid to speak the words at all, and so when Solomon's other hand moves to join his, he feels his singular one caught between two hands now, he is glad for it.
But he doesn't miss the emotion caught in Solomon's voice or the sound of it either, which surprises him; not badly, though. If anything, it makes his gaze soften. As it is, he also doesn't know what to say to those two sentences, can only know he swallows a bit, smiles weakly, and instead he answers the question with a gentle tone: ]
[A final press of his hands is his acknowledgement, before he reaches up to dip his fingers below the high neck of his shirt. A clinking of delicate chain can be heard as he carefully pulls out a pendant - a slice of brilliant agate, blacks and blues at its corners with a shimmering green slicing through its center.]
[ If, when those hands press against his, Solomon feels something like the slight movement of his own, to try to get a grip on one despite being caught between both, it is not his imagination. Furthermore, Jing Yuan's expression is mildly confused when Solomon sticks a hand down his own shirt just a little, until he brings out a pendant.
One of which he has never seen before. But, he is arrested by its sight and appearance.
This...can it be...? But no. Certainly not...he can almost feel his head spinning, but he is trying to contain himself. ]
...It has been a long time since I have. I may have time to gaze upon the stars back home and I have certainly been various places on this planet, but it seems the happenstance hasn't occurred within my sight during our stay.
[He feels that squirming very well, a quiet chuckle as he lets the fingers of his free hand lace with Jing Yuan's. He's still here. Though his eyes stay traced on the stone held delicately in his fingers as he starts to speak.]
When I was younger, I made myself a crystal ball. Not to see into the future, but to contain a memory that was important to me.
I found that even when I'd passed my first couple of centuries, there was only so much my mind could remember. And when I found a memory I though was too important to forget, I contained it with my magic so that I might prepare for the worst.
The crystal broke due to a friend's negligence in recent years, and I found myself unable to remember that important memory anymore. And at the time, there was nothing to be done for it. I couldnt mourn something I didn't remember, and I felt no ill will to my friend for the accident. So I went about my days, and let my dear friend try to make up the differenece to me another way. I asked him to make something I could hold as a different sort of memory, rather than one of the past, so maybe I could reshape my joy to the present.
It was while I was out in the fields of the far north of my own world looking for an addition to that project, with my apprentice at my side, that we caught the glimpse of an aurora very similar to the color of this stone. And I remembered what it was I'd been so desperate to save so long ago.
[It's silly. He'd been so committed to forgetting, and yet the emotions still felt so deeply intertwined the second things trickled back.]
I took to myself a lot when I was young. I wasn't welcome in many places due to my powers, so I explored and studied. I often found that time stopped mattering. Every day melded into the next, and it was easier to focus on my goals.
It was while I was in the snowy lands of a mountainside that I stood in the middle of an aurora. And it was enough to give me pause - to stop a dogged trek to my goals for a brief moment and recognize the present.
It was when I had the time to stop that I let myself feel tired. Lonely. And I realized that... it had been my birthday the whole day. Something I hadn't celebrated since long after gaining my immortality. So I spent it doing just that... laying in the snow watching the aurora until it faded. I didn't have to be a sorcerer or something powerful. I was just me.
[He flips the pendant gently over in his fingers, the cut of it colorful and polished on both ends. Given the magical energy coming from it, it's no small jump to assume this is his amulet.]
It is a reminder, to myself, that I still am human, and that a life is more than simply moving from goal to goal. Even if time deteriorates my recollection... then I will find new things to recall in their stead.
[ Indeed he is...Solomon certainly isn't about to fade away before his very eyes; and he feels slightly embarrassed for subconsciously reaching out like that, but it is what it is. Instead, now he has a front row seat to words Solomon speaks which describe something quite personal...yet profound.
But, all the same, despite all of that, these words describe something so simple as well in the complexity that intermingles with the cruel passage of time.
That at the core of it all, that no matter how many titles one is assigned, no matter how much power is bequeathed upon a singular individual, they are always at heart the person they always were before all of that. Isn't that right...? ]
...I see.
A reminder of one's humanity can make all the difference in the world. Instead of feeling lost, it can ground you deeply. To be an anchor to who you truly are in a world that assigns you a myriad titles.
Naturally, I also know how much this means to you, and hearing you say as much to me at all is an honor. I shall treasure this moment dearly...and have full faith that you will find new memories to cherish. Yet, be able to hold onto them as tightly as possible, as simply and verily yourself.
[ Jing Yuan wonders about the relief Solomon felt in that moment; where everything indeed took pause. But, also, he squeezes gently the hand in his own, unable to help it, though he would like to think for both of their sakes as well. ]
You're a kind soul. And I won't say you're wrong. But you know that story was for you, not for me. Right?
I don't tell it to receive your blessings, though I'll still enjoy them. I tell it because I want you to know how I understand, and hope it can give you some sort of comfort.
[It's only lightly scolding. This isn't a first offense, but not a grevious one.
With an overdramatic sigh, he plucks up the pouch at his cape, slowly untying it and rummaging through the fabric.]
Here. Perhaps this might suit you better, actually.
[Out from the pouch pulls another pendant - an orbital mix of rings and small colorful jewels set around a golden orb. Even without touching it, the jewelry radiates Solomon's magic.
He holds it out with a careful hand.]
For you.
Magical items were a specialty of mine back home. I didn't want you leaving empty handed.
[ Jing Yuan's cheeks start to color as Solomon say this because he actually hadn't realized the story was for him. He is just...so unused to people comforting him so personally that it didn't occur to him.
It probably should've, and for a moment, Solomon can see how sheepish and embarrassed he looks. He doesn't want to waste the man's efforts at all.
Because, well, he did certainly appreciate the story that was told to him; he remembers thinking in the midst of his own words and thoughts that he could relate to it, considering his own position. ]
...Ah. For what it's worth, I...
[ ...His words suddenly trail off at the offering, though. ]
[ Jing Yuan may have temporarily jumped to conclusions a bit earlier, so the fact that this is happening now is more than a surprise.
It's...something. Words are not exactly forthcoming right now as he reaches out, fingers gently touching at first the outer part of the pendant, as if he can't believe that this is real.
Even now, his mind automatically reels in disbelief, hands begin to actually tremble. He tries to say something. Anything.
Instead, he blinks simply, fingers finally taking a hold of it properly, into his hands. He can feel the energy, the power underneath. Solomon's undeniable magic ever more acutely with it closer.
Jing Yuan still is barely able to find the words. ]
This...this is...
[ Please give him a moment, he's holding it close to him now. ]
[Show him what? Well. Solomon will guide Jing Yuan to hold the necklace up. Tap two fingers to the outer ring with your incantation, and push at it gently.
So long as Jing Yuan does so correctly, the pendant will whir to life - not by any mechanism, but simply through momentum alone. With it comes a feeling of deep protection - of a warm hand against his, a hug at his waist, a prideful space shared with his student, a place of respect with his mentor. An anchor. A comfort.]
...It will only be good for one strong hit. But should you or another need it, just push it into motion. My magic will protect you.
[With that said, his hand leaves the necklace to instead raise to rest against Jing Yuan's chin, tilting him purposefully, gently, to meet him in the eye.]
Please do not forget what your compassion does even as your time passes on, Jing Yuan. A simple movement from your hands sets many things in motion for so many, who act on each other. Let their care orbit you as you do for them. Let them be here to protect your heart so you may be just as human in your weakness.
Let yourself live for as long as you may, dear Jing Yuan, so that you may explore the stars with galaxies such as these, with people who would be blessed to have you in the pull of their lives, no matter how long it lasts. For the stars burn through the memories of so many millions of miles away, even after they have finished their light.
[There's a flicker of something complicated as he swallows, exhales.]
Allow yourself this, even in moments. Survive and treasure your today, so you may look forward to tomorrow. For today, you are still Jing Yuan.
[ Solomon does indeed show Jing Yuan, who can only marvel at its construction, its sincere thoughtfulness in its potential application — already, feelings have begun to bubble up. It only seems that this feeling that washes over him like a sudden tide enhances them — makes him feel...something overwhelming amongst the maelstrom of emotions.
Once again, he's momentarily struck speechless — Solomon reaching out, fingers softly stopping where they are, only to guide the angle of where his head rests. The touch feeling like nothing less than a balm, but somehow only increasing the significance of the moment.
Then, his words...there is a lot of them.
He remembers them well but categorizing how each and every single one, as well as the sentiments behind them, mean to Jing Yuan would take eons. ]
Solomon, thank you. My apologies if I am not the eloquent man right now you have come to know these few weeks, but I am at a loss at what to say.
Still, I...
[ His breath hitches, and for the first time a long while there is a wetness to his eyes; do not fear, though, these are happy tears. After carefully placing the necklace around his neck, fingers shaking, Jing Yuan then throws his arms suddenly around Solomon pulling him close to him. He needs this, he needs to hold him close, but it isn't enough.
Words truly seem inadequate to convey how much this means to him. Even if he might be ridiculed for it, he doesn't care. The last time anyone gave anything to him for protection and in a personal sense at all, it was Yingxing, which was centuries ago. Yingxing is no longer with him, and as the man he is today, he no longer cares for Jing Yuan the way he is. Jing Yuan does pull back, only slightly, so that their faces are close together, and though there are a million emotions running through him right now, Jing Yuan feels as if his mind is clear. His next words, emotional, are clear with a declaration that lacks no confidence, that rings true as his heart sings. ]
I will come home. I refuse to accept any other alternative.
I will live.
[ It's embarrassing how overcome with emotion he is, but he refuses to shy away. They have come far, they have had theirs ups and downs, but they have grown ever the more close. He is most certain of that, even if they still some ways to go; still he intends to become closer. ]
But before all of that...indulge in a kiss with me?
[With the emotion rising in Jing Yuan's face, his voice, the way he still trembles while fastening the chain to his neck, Solomon expects there to be a bit of an unpredictable reaction. That it turns into an embrace startles him, a slight sound of alarm as Jing Yuan drags him close under much stronger arms.
But he's laughing quietly to himself as he returns the embrace, a hand stroking the small of Jing Yuan's back until the younger man decides to back up and meet him in the eye. A shroud of breath under the curtains of snow-white hair, that expression so emotional and so serious, a crack that flows just for him. Trusting and touched.
Despite the flare of amusement, Solomon's eyes soften, his smile easily reaching the corners despite its delicacy - an uncommon feat, for someone who smiles so often.]
That's all I needed to hear.
[Just keep safe. Know his intention. All else is just extra.
He lets the fingers at Jing Yuan's jaw trace up, index and middle finger brushing faintly against his bottom lip, before slipping down to brace loosely at his neck.]
Hah. You've asked so nicely this time, how could I say no?
[A beat, and his voice softens in turn, eyes lidding with a tired relief.]
...Thank you, for not making it a promise.
[It's all he says before Solomon takes the initiative to lean forward, a careful press of his lips against Jing Yuan's. Nothing fancy, nothing wanting, but a curious and thankful gesture of warmth and sensitivity, free of the unknowns of inexperience, instead pliantly asking for response.]
[ Normally, the sound of surprise from Solomon is something that would have tingled him with amusement, but he can only remember the cascading variety of emotions that went through him. Though, he definitely adores the way Solomon's eyes look so gentle when he had pulled back — and the way it adds to his smile seems nothing less than perfect.
He feels the sensation of that finger running along his jaw, against his bottom lip, the sensation so light that it is nothing less than feather-like. But he thinks, most of all, he hears the response that outlines itself in his head. The gentle voice and weary yet glad relief that shows in Solomon's reaction a comfort, and also something that further draws him in.
Though Solomon might seem a reflection of amusement at the question that came before it. And he does have enough time to say: ]
...Of course.
[ Since Solomon responded in the affirmation, Jing Yuan has no problem with the other man pressing his lips lightly against his first. He cannot guess the emotions behind it, but the consideration behind its gentleness does not go unnoticed — as for Jing Yuan, he shifts, and he eagerly returns the kiss. When he presses back against Solomon's lips, it is passionate, emotional, and a deluge of all that emotions he feels — and for Solomon — all in one go. It is an expression of intimate affection that seeks not to conquer, but to envelope the dear man within it, to show how much he means to him.
Such that the sensuality also cannot be denied, as if upon finally being unleashed after so much time elapsed in one's search for what they wished. His hands loosely still around Solomon's waist, pull him closer, to intermingle him a bit deeper. There is no hesitation, no lacking in proceeding forward, or sense of uncomfortable emotion; if anything, he may only be seeking next to have the kiss deepened next. Indeed, the intensity of Jing Yuan's feelings and his certainty in them can never hope to be denied as he holds Solomon close. ]
It's what trickles through his head as the heat of their mouths press together. The weight of Jing Yuan's hands settling to slender hips and guiding even closer. The meet of his curiosity with a rolling flare of passion - a drop of that bold, bold heart pinned under the calm that keeps Jing Yuan in control of his slow march to oblivion. It's like glancing through the crack of a room and seeing nothing but golden light beyond... and Solomon is too curious, too mischevious, too foolhardy for his own good.
It's different. A different bewitching than staring into the eyes of a demon who would instantly charm any other. A different kiss than those dripping with narcissism and lust. A different hold than one who knew intimately the ways to twist a body's desires.
It's hesitant, and strong, and an instinct that feels far, far less like a fight. And in that way, it becomes something almkst terrifying.
With Jing Yuan's hands at his core, Solomon leads his own absent one upwards, to cup against that eager face as the fingers at Jing Yuan's neck travel to lightly press against his nape, to tangle fingers in that wave of thick hair and coax him, encourage him, with the slightest of tugs.
Tilting the younger man just so as he lets his lips part, he allows the kiss to deepen to meet that sensuality. It's just enough of an echo to be an answer, enough to offer a taste of him, but with enough openness to let Jing Yuan to keep choosing. Coaxing, enticing, the sensitive heat of his tongue at wait beyond the movement of their lips, but not quite reaching out.
Perhaps he really is more a demon now, for how the desire to bewitch every motion of this man still makes his chest pound. Tempt them first, tempt them hard, take the advantage without being taking advantage of in return.
Come to me, his actions beg sweetly, as his tongue traces lightly at the next opening of their mouths. Heated, intentional, but brief.
[ Jing Yuan certainly knows how to make a body sing with desire, but at his core he has always been someone who tended towards sentimental, who never would wish anyone he cared for deeply to think that he would be doing something like this without thought. Even in the presence of unequivocal desire, he will never shy away from the person that he is, from the feelings that reside deep within him, that he thinks he gives more and more with each and every passing second.
In this intense brush of an entangled, mutual dance with each other's lips against one another, Jing Yuan feels the movement from Solomon, when those fingers eventually find his hair and pull at it — at him enough that he feels delighted. It is kind of difficult to smile like this, but if he could manage it in its entirely, Jing Yuan certainly would. So he doesn't resist the tug, not at all.
The nonverbal ask — no, demand — to bid for him to come hither still is received loud and clear.
But then, above all, is the audacity in which Solomon for certain goads him silently on — by action alone with such talented tongue. Perhaps by such action that would certainly cause lesser men to lose their senses — though Jing Yuan pridefully keeps his head clear. Enough that following after the man dares to trace that tongue ever-so-teasingly — but with no further step forward — Jing Yuan lets himself nip softly at Solomon's lower lip.
Still, he dares not resist the invitation, already tempted enough to take that plunge, allowing his own tongue to slip past that opening as he tilts his head, shifting one hand to rest more firmly against Solomon's back as he surges forward. As he presses firmer, heated and passionately to bring the other man too deeper into this moment, so that their tongues meet, and far more than for a brief moment. He has no intentions of making it so fleeting; he has every intention of making it that these feelings stoked ever so deeply are overflowing in their heat. In an expression of desire of its own that seeks to rise in intensity gradually rather than selfishly without thought.
...And perhaps Solomon may believe himself a demon. But if that is true, would this heated moment upon which they great one another be a potential moment for which they both are able to mutually make way towards their salvation? He can feel his own heart race, and with them pressed so close, Jing Yuan feels himself simultaneously sink further into Solomon, but also give to him more. More and more than simply take.
His fingers settled onto the clothing of the other male's back grip harder, and by this time it is no surprise that they are practically unapologetically pressed against each other, one hand still on one of Solomon's hips, gripping firmly where it lies.
This, should make it stark clear what kind of hunger exists within his heart. ]
[He hums his approval at the advancement, a quirk of his lips at the bite that easily gives way, letting his mouth open wider and taking himself in to taste Jing Yuan at his intrusion - Jing Yuan leads heavily with passion, and Solomon catches him, letting him explore before sliding himself right alongside, tongue and teeth and panted breath. He doesn't push back so much as he guides it in circles, a swirling parry to the straightforward nature of Jing Yuan's own emotions. To catch and swaddle and push them right back, coaxing, coaxing -- keep taking, it says, as Solomon sucks lightly on that retreating tongue in a moment of breath, as Jing Yuan's palms pull him in by the back, by the hip...
With all the litheness of a cat, Solomon slides himself closer, up onto his knees as he pushes up and over Jing Yuan's lap to straddle one of his thighs, both hands now cupping his face as he lets them part only for breath, only for breath, glances minimal and heated. Indulge, is what Jing Yuan had said. So let the man melt under his fingers like fine chocolates, let him work to contain the uncontainable. Solomon drinks of his mouth slowly, deeply, feeling the heat that rises in his chest and letting it simmer for now. He is the water to the fire below - he will find his own time, to vaporize, to become the air that feeds him instead.]
[ Jing Yuan isn't a loud man by any means — not in the bedroom, and certainly not out of it — and this remains true even now. His own quick breaths are swallowed up because of how their intimate entanglement, courtesy of his own actions and Solomon's daring quick maneuver in that brief moment before he's straddling him just a bit.
The heat has already pooled to his face at some point, noticeable prior to even those hands cupping his cheeks. Even with an allowance of the brevity of breathing in their brief break, it's the intensity of it all that is to blame. But, even that moment is lost in time when their lips meet again, and he keeps the hand on the older man's hip where it is, but moves the other so it rests against the back of Solomon's head. Like this, it's easier to kiss at him, unraveling slowly, kissing at his lips, slipping him tongue, nipping at that lower lip again.
Then, he's moving that hand along that hip so he can carefully run it over that thigh ever-so-teasingly, to back along that too (overdressed) hip. It doesn't stop there, though, because he next has that hand move to Solomon's side and then to other man's lower back to press him even more incessantly against him. Perhaps to cause some sort of friction, even if it's difficult to do much movement himself like this, and at last he knows himself he's panting into the kiss, however muffled it is.
If it weren't for that rather high collar of his Solomon would feel the escalation evidenced elsewhere, though his hand is moments from tugging at that too. Which will be clear evidence of how much Jing Yuan has been riled up from all of this in his actions; though now also a certain part of his body. ]
[He allows that touch to travel, another pleased hum at the travelling grip against his leg, even dropping one of his own hands to splay against Jing Yuan's own as though to follow it, to run against the muscle of his clothed forearm as it moves from hip to waist to even further.
It's the more intentional attempt at friction that has Solomon finally breaking the kiss, leaning his face to press his lips to Jing Yuan's jawline once with a hushed tone against his ear.]
Shh... Don't forget where we are, Jing Yuan. I have my pride.
[Though he doesn't make any movement to separate their hips. Not yet. The warmth is so enticing, and feeling Jing Yuan react so immediately to a single moment of passion has Solomon's chest fueled with amusement. One would think the general was still young with such obvious excitement.
Another quiet, chaste press of his lips against that jawline, even as his hands find both of Jing Yuan's forearms, a bracing grip as he intentionally rolls their hips together. Once, purposefully, slowly, before raising himself up too high to follow through.]
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no subject
Then, Solomon starts to bring up the matter of roles, something he once had vaguely touched on before, but now properly. Surprisingly, he does not flinch even after the switch of that touch, to his collarbone. Maybe, perhaps, a slight shiver. ]
You might find how difficult it is for one such as myself to 'rest his mind' except when I am able to silence my mind completely. Yet...
...You must understand well, as one who lives eternally. Time and time again what we treasure is bound to slip through our fingers. That which lies in the past, which we have resolved to move beyond, but which mercilessly grabs at us no matter how far forward we step. That which enormous power cannot change no matter how much one has obtained.
The weight of sheer responsibility behind a "role" that one has "accepted" but must carry out again and again...as a dire necessity. Otherwise, all shall be doomed to fall apart in front of one's eyes.
What it means, to have not completely forgotten yourself, even after everything was said and done. And during everything that still remains to be completed. Though, for myself, it is only a matter of time...you understand. Even if I breathe every day as an immortal, I may one day forget all of what I am.
...This is the moment, granted to you, my dear Solomon. You and yourself alone.
[ Then, Jing Yuan leaves it that, touching upon some aspects of his troubles without diving too deep. The further he goes, the more reluctant he feels, and in his heart he doubts even Solomon would wish to grasp the enormity of it all. But he doesn't tell him what he has because he feels he has to, rather because there is a part of him that wishes Solomon to know.
And...if later on, the man thinks even this too much of a burden, he will be fine with that too. ]
no subject
He know. Oh how he knows. But even at this twisting surface level, its sounds as though it haunts Jing Yuan in a far more tragic form than Solomon could ever see for himself.
With how carefully Jing Yuan skirts around his wording, Solomon at least recognizes this is not the moment to pry too deeply. Instead, the hand against his chest finds one of Jing Yuan's palms, plucking it up to rest in his own, to squeeze it gently. No words just yet. No pity.
Just an ache, an understanding, of what's been touched at so far in the majority.]
Do you fear you will follow in your master's footsteps? [Here he'd thought it might have been an illness, a curse...] You speak as though it's inevitable.
no subject
Solomon's actions speak something close to keen understanding (or to seek it); far better than pity which would rankle him deeply. Far better to look at him differently, for the possibility of what he could become. ]
Mm, perhaps I would not call it simply fear. Rather, an expectation of it...as it is inevitable. Such is the fate of long-lived 'human' Xianzhou Natives.
[ Jing Yuan says so because he thinks it is. Idly, he remembers when Luocha spoke of there being a possible cure for Mara and he jumped right on it, only for everything that came after to cover up whatever that segue was, true or not. ]
There are ways to manage avoidance of it for a time, and I have certainly done better than most. Many my age or a century younger have succumbed. There are many factors that tend to accelerate its development, or so is theorized.
...As for my Master, she was well past the usual expected age for deterioration when she was struck with Mara.
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Another ticking clock to line up with the rest. Not even the immortal were exempt.
...]
...She seemed like she did her best to keep it very clear what her wishes were. Since that was inevitable, and not just poor luck... mmm. [It putss some things into a new perspective, but only in the details.]
Is Mara an illness you contract? Or something that's just innate to your people as you age?
[Deterioration makes him think of the more common diseases in the elderly - of joint and muscle and mind. What here was deteriorating?]
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Feeling the tense fingers within his own, he lightly squeezes them once more. ]
It is something like an innate illness, though others have compared it simply to aging. [ Jing Yuan has a different opinion, evidently. ] Either way, it makes it worse than an illness that can be simply 'contracted'. Once it occurs, most tend to undergo an entire bodily transformation at some point; though some may initially display a change in eye color for a time. But, even that minor alteration would give way towards an appearance no longer recognizable as one's original form.
Other symptoms of Mara can be signs of memory problems and abrupt, chaotic mood changes. Though, in general, the condition can be exacerbated by outside stressors.
[ Typically, soldiers succumb to Mara quicker than civilians. Jingliu, having been well over a millennia old at the time, is an outlier. ]
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...
And there truly is nothing to be done for it? No way to halt that transformation?
[He thinks he already knows the answer, but... he'd rather hear Jing Yuan's feelings right now.]
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...I doubt there is anything that can be done to stop it permanently.
Someone once taunted me about knowing a possible cure, but I am certain he only stated as much in a last-ditch attempt to gain leverage.
[ So, Jing Yuan will not say otherwise; indeed, as it stands, he doubts there is a cure at all. He is an optimistic man but he is also not one to give a false impression about a matter this dire. ]
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...Then it's an improbability only.
A very high improbability, perhaps. But if there's room for doubt, there's room for possibility in equal measure.
[A sliver of hope, illogical as it is. He holds it for Ibuki with all his might. Would he need to do so for Jing Yuan, too?
...
...
There's so much he could say. Antecdotes he could try to pull, or wisdom he could try to impress. But it's not a situation needing a teacher, nor an elder. It is a cruel reality, deserving of the trepidation it brings. So he holds the quiet, bringing his other hand against Jing Yuan's own to cup it tightly.
There is no condolences to be had for aging. But for the scars it left behind, the fears that were just as vibrant as a boy of ten or young man of eighteen, contained only out of necessity...
...
He exhales, a wet and shaking sound.]
Thank you. For telling me.
...
Could I show you something?
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Where others would scoff bitterly at the idea, he does not. There is a reason that he, not being the type of person anyone can consider anywhere near a "researcher" and more the type to be inclined towards simply the leading role he has been accustomed to for centuries now, has researched the topic thoroughly. ]
Perhaps there is.
[ Even as he says the words, they are spoken quietly for once, his voice holding a chord of emotion he would be too prideful to name. As if he is afraid to speak the words at all, and so when Solomon's other hand moves to join his, he feels his singular one caught between two hands now, he is glad for it.
But he doesn't miss the emotion caught in Solomon's voice or the sound of it either, which surprises him; not badly, though. If anything, it makes his gaze soften. As it is, he also doesn't know what to say to those two sentences, can only know he swallows a bit, smiles weakly, and instead he answers the question with a gentle tone: ]
...Yes. I would like to see it.
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...
Have you ever seen an aurora, Jing Yuan?
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One of which he has never seen before. But, he is arrested by its sight and appearance.
This...can it be...? But no. Certainly not...he can almost feel his head spinning, but he is trying to contain himself. ]
...It has been a long time since I have. I may have time to gaze upon the stars back home and I have certainly been various places on this planet, but it seems the happenstance hasn't occurred within my sight during our stay.
Why do you ask?
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When I was younger, I made myself a crystal ball. Not to see into the future, but to contain a memory that was important to me.
I found that even when I'd passed my first couple of centuries, there was only so much my mind could remember. And when I found a memory I though was too important to forget, I contained it with my magic so that I might prepare for the worst.
The crystal broke due to a friend's negligence in recent years, and I found myself unable to remember that important memory anymore. And at the time, there was nothing to be done for it. I couldnt mourn something I didn't remember, and I felt no ill will to my friend for the accident. So I went about my days, and let my dear friend try to make up the differenece to me another way. I asked him to make something I could hold as a different sort of memory, rather than one of the past, so maybe I could reshape my joy to the present.
It was while I was out in the fields of the far north of my own world looking for an addition to that project, with my apprentice at my side, that we caught the glimpse of an aurora very similar to the color of this stone. And I remembered what it was I'd been so desperate to save so long ago.
[It's silly. He'd been so committed to forgetting, and yet the emotions still felt so deeply intertwined the second things trickled back.]
I took to myself a lot when I was young. I wasn't welcome in many places due to my powers, so I explored and studied. I often found that time stopped mattering. Every day melded into the next, and it was easier to focus on my goals.
It was while I was in the snowy lands of a mountainside that I stood in the middle of an aurora. And it was enough to give me pause - to stop a dogged trek to my goals for a brief moment and recognize the present.
It was when I had the time to stop that I let myself feel tired. Lonely. And I realized that... it had been my birthday the whole day. Something I hadn't celebrated since long after gaining my immortality. So I spent it doing just that... laying in the snow watching the aurora until it faded. I didn't have to be a sorcerer or something powerful. I was just me.
[He flips the pendant gently over in his fingers, the cut of it colorful and polished on both ends. Given the magical energy coming from it, it's no small jump to assume this is his amulet.]
It is a reminder, to myself, that I still am human, and that a life is more than simply moving from goal to goal. Even if time deteriorates my recollection... then I will find new things to recall in their stead.
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But, all the same, despite all of that, these words describe something so simple as well in the complexity that intermingles with the cruel passage of time.
That at the core of it all, that no matter how many titles one is assigned, no matter how much power is bequeathed upon a singular individual, they are always at heart the person they always were before all of that. Isn't that right...? ]
...I see.
A reminder of one's humanity can make all the difference in the world. Instead of feeling lost, it can ground you deeply. To be an anchor to who you truly are in a world that assigns you a myriad titles.
Naturally, I also know how much this means to you, and hearing you say as much to me at all is an honor. I shall treasure this moment dearly...and have full faith that you will find new memories to cherish. Yet, be able to hold onto them as tightly as possible, as simply and verily yourself.
[ Jing Yuan wonders about the relief Solomon felt in that moment; where everything indeed took pause. But, also, he squeezes gently the hand in his own, unable to help it, though he would like to think for both of their sakes as well. ]
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He gently starts to laugh despite himself.]
Jing Yuan...
You're a kind soul. And I won't say you're wrong. But you know that story was for you, not for me. Right?
I don't tell it to receive your blessings, though I'll still enjoy them. I tell it because I want you to know how I understand, and hope it can give you some sort of comfort.
[It's only lightly scolding. This isn't a first offense, but not a grevious one.
With an overdramatic sigh, he plucks up the pouch at his cape, slowly untying it and rummaging through the fabric.]
Here. Perhaps this might suit you better, actually.
[Out from the pouch pulls another pendant - an orbital mix of rings and small colorful jewels set around a golden orb. Even without touching it, the jewelry radiates Solomon's magic.
He holds it out with a careful hand.]
For you.
Magical items were a specialty of mine back home. I didn't want you leaving empty handed.
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It probably should've, and for a moment, Solomon can see how sheepish and embarrassed he looks. He doesn't want to waste the man's efforts at all.
Because, well, he did certainly appreciate the story that was told to him; he remembers thinking in the midst of his own words and thoughts that he could relate to it, considering his own position. ]
...Ah. For what it's worth, I...
[ ...His words suddenly trail off at the offering, though. ]
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It's...something. Words are not exactly forthcoming right now as he reaches out, fingers gently touching at first the outer part of the pendant, as if he can't believe that this is real.
Even now, his mind automatically reels in disbelief, hands begin to actually tremble. He tries to say something. Anything.
Instead, he blinks simply, fingers finally taking a hold of it properly, into his hands. He can feel the energy, the power underneath. Solomon's undeniable magic ever more acutely with it closer.
Jing Yuan still is barely able to find the words. ]
This...this is...
[ Please give him a moment, he's holding it close to him now. ]
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[Show him what? Well. Solomon will guide Jing Yuan to hold the necklace up. Tap two fingers to the outer ring with your incantation, and push at it gently.
So long as Jing Yuan does so correctly, the pendant will whir to life - not by any mechanism, but simply through momentum alone. With it comes a feeling of deep protection - of a warm hand against his, a hug at his waist, a prideful space shared with his student, a place of respect with his mentor. An anchor. A comfort.]
...It will only be good for one strong hit. But should you or another need it, just push it into motion. My magic will protect you.
[With that said, his hand leaves the necklace to instead raise to rest against Jing Yuan's chin, tilting him purposefully, gently, to meet him in the eye.]
Please do not forget what your compassion does even as your time passes on, Jing Yuan. A simple movement from your hands sets many things in motion for so many, who act on each other. Let their care orbit you as you do for them. Let them be here to protect your heart so you may be just as human in your weakness.
Let yourself live for as long as you may, dear Jing Yuan, so that you may explore the stars with galaxies such as these, with people who would be blessed to have you in the pull of their lives, no matter how long it lasts. For the stars burn through the memories of so many millions of miles away, even after they have finished their light.
[There's a flicker of something complicated as he swallows, exhales.]
Allow yourself this, even in moments. Survive and treasure your today, so you may look forward to tomorrow. For today, you are still Jing Yuan.
And I hope among hopes you come home safely.
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Once again, he's momentarily struck speechless — Solomon reaching out, fingers softly stopping where they are, only to guide the angle of where his head rests. The touch feeling like nothing less than a balm, but somehow only increasing the significance of the moment.
Then, his words...there is a lot of them.
He remembers them well but categorizing how each and every single one, as well as the sentiments behind them, mean to Jing Yuan would take eons. ]
Solomon, thank you. My apologies if I am not the eloquent man right now you have come to know these few weeks, but I am at a loss at what to say.
Still, I...
[ His breath hitches, and for the first time a long while there is a wetness to his eyes; do not fear, though, these are happy tears. After carefully placing the necklace around his neck, fingers shaking, Jing Yuan then throws his arms suddenly around Solomon pulling him close to him. He needs this, he needs to hold him close, but it isn't enough.
Words truly seem inadequate to convey how much this means to him. Even if he might be ridiculed for it, he doesn't care. The last time anyone gave anything to him for protection and in a personal sense at all, it was Yingxing, which was centuries ago. Yingxing is no longer with him, and as the man he is today, he no longer cares for Jing Yuan the way he is. Jing Yuan does pull back, only slightly, so that their faces are close together, and though there are a million emotions running through him right now, Jing Yuan feels as if his mind is clear. His next words, emotional, are clear with a declaration that lacks no confidence, that rings true as his heart sings. ]
I will come home. I refuse to accept any other alternative.
I will live.
[ It's embarrassing how overcome with emotion he is, but he refuses to shy away. They have come far, they have had theirs ups and downs, but they have grown ever the more close. He is most certain of that, even if they still some ways to go; still he intends to become closer. ]
But before all of that...indulge in a kiss with me?
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But he's laughing quietly to himself as he returns the embrace, a hand stroking the small of Jing Yuan's back until the younger man decides to back up and meet him in the eye. A shroud of breath under the curtains of snow-white hair, that expression so emotional and so serious, a crack that flows just for him. Trusting and touched.
Despite the flare of amusement, Solomon's eyes soften, his smile easily reaching the corners despite its delicacy - an uncommon feat, for someone who smiles so often.]
That's all I needed to hear.
[Just keep safe. Know his intention. All else is just extra.
He lets the fingers at Jing Yuan's jaw trace up, index and middle finger brushing faintly against his bottom lip, before slipping down to brace loosely at his neck.]
Hah. You've asked so nicely this time, how could I say no?
[A beat, and his voice softens in turn, eyes lidding with a tired relief.]
...Thank you, for not making it a promise.
[It's all he says before Solomon takes the initiative to lean forward, a careful press of his lips against Jing Yuan's. Nothing fancy, nothing wanting, but a curious and thankful gesture of warmth and sensitivity, free of the unknowns of inexperience, instead pliantly asking for response.]
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He feels the sensation of that finger running along his jaw, against his bottom lip, the sensation so light that it is nothing less than feather-like. But he thinks, most of all, he hears the response that outlines itself in his head. The gentle voice and weary yet glad relief that shows in Solomon's reaction a comfort, and also something that further draws him in.
Though Solomon might seem a reflection of amusement at the question that came before it. And he does have enough time to say: ]
...Of course.
[ Since Solomon responded in the affirmation, Jing Yuan has no problem with the other man pressing his lips lightly against his first. He cannot guess the emotions behind it, but the consideration behind its gentleness does not go unnoticed — as for Jing Yuan, he shifts, and he eagerly returns the kiss. When he presses back against Solomon's lips, it is passionate, emotional, and a deluge of all that emotions he feels — and for Solomon — all in one go. It is an expression of intimate affection that seeks not to conquer, but to envelope the dear man within it, to show how much he means to him.
Such that the sensuality also cannot be denied, as if upon finally being unleashed after so much time elapsed in one's search for what they wished. His hands loosely still around Solomon's waist, pull him closer, to intermingle him a bit deeper. There is no hesitation, no lacking in proceeding forward, or sense of uncomfortable emotion; if anything, he may only be seeking next to have the kiss deepened next. Indeed, the intensity of Jing Yuan's feelings and his certainty in them can never hope to be denied as he holds Solomon close. ]
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It's what trickles through his head as the heat of their mouths press together. The weight of Jing Yuan's hands settling to slender hips and guiding even closer. The meet of his curiosity with a rolling flare of passion - a drop of that bold, bold heart pinned under the calm that keeps Jing Yuan in control of his slow march to oblivion. It's like glancing through the crack of a room and seeing nothing but golden light beyond... and Solomon is too curious, too mischevious, too foolhardy for his own good.
It's different. A different bewitching than staring into the eyes of a demon who would instantly charm any other. A different kiss than those dripping with narcissism and lust. A different hold than one who knew intimately the ways to twist a body's desires.
It's hesitant, and strong, and an instinct that feels far, far less like a fight. And in that way, it becomes something almkst terrifying.
With Jing Yuan's hands at his core, Solomon leads his own absent one upwards, to cup against that eager face as the fingers at Jing Yuan's neck travel to lightly press against his nape, to tangle fingers in that wave of thick hair and coax him, encourage him, with the slightest of tugs.
Tilting the younger man just so as he lets his lips part, he allows the kiss to deepen to meet that sensuality. It's just enough of an echo to be an answer, enough to offer a taste of him, but with enough openness to let Jing Yuan to keep choosing. Coaxing, enticing, the sensitive heat of his tongue at wait beyond the movement of their lips, but not quite reaching out.
Perhaps he really is more a demon now, for how the desire to bewitch every motion of this man still makes his chest pound. Tempt them first, tempt them hard, take the advantage without being taking advantage of in return.
Come to me, his actions beg sweetly, as his tongue traces lightly at the next opening of their mouths. Heated, intentional, but brief.
Show me the hunger of your heart.]
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In this intense brush of an entangled, mutual dance with each other's lips against one another, Jing Yuan feels the movement from Solomon, when those fingers eventually find his hair and pull at it — at him enough that he feels delighted. It is kind of difficult to smile like this, but if he could manage it in its entirely, Jing Yuan certainly would. So he doesn't resist the tug, not at all.
The nonverbal ask — no, demand — to bid for him to come hither still is received loud and clear.
But then, above all, is the audacity in which Solomon for certain goads him silently on — by action alone with such talented tongue. Perhaps by such action that would certainly cause lesser men to lose their senses — though Jing Yuan pridefully keeps his head clear. Enough that following after the man dares to trace that tongue ever-so-teasingly — but with no further step forward — Jing Yuan lets himself nip softly at Solomon's lower lip.
Still, he dares not resist the invitation, already tempted enough to take that plunge, allowing his own tongue to slip past that opening as he tilts his head, shifting one hand to rest more firmly against Solomon's back as he surges forward. As he presses firmer, heated and passionately to bring the other man too deeper into this moment, so that their tongues meet, and far more than for a brief moment. He has no intentions of making it so fleeting; he has every intention of making it that these feelings stoked ever so deeply are overflowing in their heat. In an expression of desire of its own that seeks to rise in intensity gradually rather than selfishly without thought.
...And perhaps Solomon may believe himself a demon. But if that is true, would this heated moment upon which they great one another be a potential moment for which they both are able to mutually make way towards their salvation? He can feel his own heart race, and with them pressed so close, Jing Yuan feels himself simultaneously sink further into Solomon, but also give to him more. More and more than simply take.
His fingers settled onto the clothing of the other male's back grip harder, and by this time it is no surprise that they are practically unapologetically pressed against each other, one hand still on one of Solomon's hips, gripping firmly where it lies.
This, should make it stark clear what kind of hunger exists within his heart. ]
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With all the litheness of a cat, Solomon slides himself closer, up onto his knees as he pushes up and over Jing Yuan's lap to straddle one of his thighs, both hands now cupping his face as he lets them part only for breath, only for breath, glances minimal and heated. Indulge, is what Jing Yuan had said. So let the man melt under his fingers like fine chocolates, let him work to contain the uncontainable. Solomon drinks of his mouth slowly, deeply, feeling the heat that rises in his chest and letting it simmer for now. He is the water to the fire below - he will find his own time, to vaporize, to become the air that feeds him instead.]
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The heat has already pooled to his face at some point, noticeable prior to even those hands cupping his cheeks. Even with an allowance of the brevity of breathing in their brief break, it's the intensity of it all that is to blame. But, even that moment is lost in time when their lips meet again, and he keeps the hand on the older man's hip where it is, but moves the other so it rests against the back of Solomon's head. Like this, it's easier to kiss at him, unraveling slowly, kissing at his lips, slipping him tongue, nipping at that lower lip again.
Then, he's moving that hand along that hip so he can carefully run it over that thigh ever-so-teasingly, to back along that too (overdressed) hip. It doesn't stop there, though, because he next has that hand move to Solomon's side and then to other man's lower back to press him even more incessantly against him. Perhaps to cause some sort of friction, even if it's difficult to do much movement himself like this, and at last he knows himself he's panting into the kiss, however muffled it is.
If it weren't for that rather high collar of his Solomon would feel the escalation evidenced elsewhere, though his hand is moments from tugging at that too. Which will be clear evidence of how much Jing Yuan has been riled up from all of this in his actions; though now also a certain part of his body. ]
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It's the more intentional attempt at friction that has Solomon finally breaking the kiss, leaning his face to press his lips to Jing Yuan's jawline once with a hushed tone against his ear.]
Shh... Don't forget where we are, Jing Yuan. I have my pride.
[Though he doesn't make any movement to separate their hips. Not yet. The warmth is so enticing, and feeling Jing Yuan react so immediately to a single moment of passion has Solomon's chest fueled with amusement. One would think the general was still young with such obvious excitement.
Another quiet, chaste press of his lips against that jawline, even as his hands find both of Jing Yuan's forearms, a bracing grip as he intentionally rolls their hips together. Once, purposefully, slowly, before raising himself up too high to follow through.]
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