open post: in a slightly hazy lounge

[peaklordshen]

After a few false starts, Shen Qingqiu has found a proper place to test out Crowley's BL pollen vape pen.

He posts up in one of the lounges, close enough to the bar that anyone leaving there might find him. He's still in his braid and loose robes - no one else had noticeably started dressing gayer¹ when they took the stuff, intentional or not, so neither will he. He also brings snacks,² and the next book in the Blood at Dusk series, Moonless Midnight, in case it takes a while to kick in, or a while for anyone to come along to prove it has, anyway. If no one finds him here he will go looking, but roaming the Mansion's halls newly homosexual feels like a much more risky prospect than just staying put and seeing what happens.

He arrays himself on a couch, feet tucked up under him (although this might not be immediately apparent due to the robes), Crowley's pen tucked behind one ear so he can make more notes now that he has a glimmer of a chance that Binghe will forgive him,³ and takes a drag on the vape.

He coughs. It's smoke, not pollen—the blooms must be dried and then burned, like with tobacco—and has an odd, kind of greenish flavor. Not unpleasant, but not pleasant, either. He expected it to taste of, like. Cherry blossom, or something. Pink rather than green. Shit, maybe he is a little homophobic.

He takes another drag, and lets the smoke out of his mouth slowly this time, watching it curl up to the ceiling.

By the time anyone finds him, he will be staring unblinking at the opposite wall, book open on his lap to the third page of the first chapter.

[Threads with Sagramore and Luo Binghe are NSFW.]

¹ Please explain what you mean by this, Shen Qingqiu. I'll wait.
² Crowley did tell him to.
³ After he confirms that the pollen works. And goes to find Binghe. And kisses him. And— well. Maybe. After. He can raise the book club idea again?

Comments

[wickedwit]

"Shen Qingqiu," Claudius says with surprised delight. "All this time I thought your plays at vague wisdom were a put-on, but you are very wise. You must truly be a master of cultivation and gentlemanly arts." For example, with the vape pen. It feels good for Claudius to be making so many connections. Sprawling a little more on the back of the couch, he says, "Grantaire has beautiful brown curls and a wicked smile. He was covered in blood." The tone of voice says and he was perfect.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu remembers—Grantaire had been very pretty, and very sad. They'd talked about Naruto. "Enjolras is the one he died for..." he says, more realizing it himself than telling Claudius, and then gets distracted, trailing off. He keeps getting distracted, when he looks at Claudius, and he thinks maybe it's just the gayness, because again, beautiful man, but it's something specific. The line of his body, the way he lounges across the back of the couch, it's somehow familiar. It shouldn't be a couch he's lying on, it should be—a, a rock, a beautifully animated rock, and he should be licking his paw—

"Oh my god," he says, sitting upright. "You're the hot lion."

[wickedwit]

Claudius was just picking up the vape pen again, holding it up and considering it close to his face, and the expression isn't unlike a cat lifting its paw. He blinks at Shen Qingqiu. "Which category is hot lions?" he asks.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu shakes his head. "I've been trying to figure out since we arrived what character from Hamlet you are," he says, triumphantly, and then remembers the whole... not telling fictional people they're fictional rule. "Um."

[wickedwit]

"So you know the play. Well, that's not getting categorized." He rolls his eyes, but without any real annoyance. He's a little too fascinated by the mechanism of the vape pen to be annoyed. "So before I told everyone about that --" murdering his brother in a play, not being a fictional character, because being fictional is patently absurd "-- I wondered whether there was a way of categorizing who's likely to know about the Hamlet play and who isn't -- that wasn't scientifically done. It wasn't deliberately done. But I know it was written in England! And there are translations in France, perhaps in other parts of Europe. It's a smashing success. But you're not from any of the other parts of Europe, and your version of the world is like Lan Wangji's, but more ..." He waves a hand. He doesn't know the word he's looking for. Luo Binghe centered? No, that's just Shen Qingqiu who's very obsessed with Luo Binghe. "Well, you know the play, so what do I do with that? Anyway, that wasn't fully studied. Grantaire was the first person I asked, and then I ripped off his shirt, and after that I didn't take many notes." A pause. "Wait, here's a question. Who's Kenneth Branagh?"

[peaklordshen]

"I don't know," says Shen Qingqiu, honestly. "Um. Sorry? Does it matter? Also, wait, you already knew you were from a play? Like, when you got here? Also, if it helps, I'm not, actually." He pauses, and then realizes this is not referring to anything nearly specific enough. "From a world like Lan Wangji's. I was in a world like Lan Wangji's. Kind of. I mean the genre is actually really different. But that's where I was. Before I was here. But it's not, technically, where I'm from." He's telling Claudius way too much, probably, but as long as he doesn't mention the ghost part it's probably fine, Lan Wangji can't exorcise him if all he knows is he's a transmigrator. "I'm from China. Sorry, wait, again, did you say you ripped off Grantaire's shirt?"

[wickedwit]

Claudius nods slowly throughout this whole series of revelations. It's so rare, in this place, that something makes so much sense it doesn't bear commenting. Different genres. They truly are all in such different genres than the ones they started in. Aziraphale was right, Hamlet was a tragedy -- factually correct, but also correct in this more profound way¹.

"Well, he wasn't going to wear that shirt again," Claudius says, because that really was his logic. "I don't ordinarily do that, you know, literally rip shirts off of men I just met. I'm not that much of a hot lion²."

¹ What profound way? Look, it's ineffable.
² He was having a day, and hot lion season is also feral boy fall.

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu laughs. "You don't have the eye scar, either," he says, "so I guess they added that for dramatic flare."

He's pretty sure, at some point, they'd been talking about Pokemon. "Fairy," he says. "Is a type." And look, Janet, he's manfully passing up on any number of homophobic jokes. "And dragon." Which reminds him. "Do you think Temeraire would mind being assigned dragon? Is that reductive?"

[wickedwit]

"Temeraire is from China." A true fact, only relevant if you can follow the multi-track trains of thought Claudius is currently operating. "As an egg. I don't think he's seen the play -- I don't think he's been to a theater. The English don't allow dragons into their cities, which seems like an appalling and alienating policy for a nation that kidnaps dragon eggs for their military, I mean, really? The French may have taken the egg first. But Temeraire has a blonde boy of his own somewhere -- Lawrence. I think," he concludes, "Temeraire would be proud to be assigned dragon. Anyone would.¹ How many dragon types do you have so far?"

¹ Serpents are little dragons!

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu blinks. Had he known Temeraire was from China? He might have. Everything he hasn't learned in the last five seconds is a little hard to grasp. "Only him," he says, and then hesitates. "Though I'm considering recategorizing Lan Wangji to dragon. I had him as ice and fairy type, but there aren't a lot of those." He makes a face and mutters, "I am not giving him a Mr. Mime."

[wickedwit]

"Oh, Lan Wangji is a Dragon type. And you know ..." Claudius has accepted Fairy and Dragon types with unusual alacrity -- some things, he'd argue, are intuitive, and there are no bad thoughts in brainstorming. But the mention of reserved, thoughtful Lan Wangji does seem to remind Claudius that interpersonal relationships are delicate and, well, personal, and there's a reason why he metes out secrets carefully and deliberately¹. "This is entirely for science, you know -- all these men could be anonymous. But let me say Lan Wangji is devoted to his husband and has an entirely dominant personality. Oh, and don't tell Temeraire I ever thought he was a demon. Obviously he's not." That follows because it's another delicate subject².

¹ Except to Crowley, who gets hot, unfiltered gossip, because everyone needs one general confidante who hears everything. This is a categorization system Claudius has made up for himself.
² No need to clarify that, because of course everything about this follows logically. Who's Mr. Mime? Is he a cute boy? He must not be or Shen Qingqiu would have more to say about him.

[peaklordshen]

"Demon's not a type," says Shen Qingqiu, because that's important to establish. The words Lan Wangji and entirely dominant personality are really bouncing around in his head, conjuring somehow as if in answer the louche and loose-mouthed way Wei Wuxian drinks wine, and he would suddenly kind of like Claudius to go away so he can give them his full attention. But they're in it, now, so he stores it away for later. "Crowley's grass. And dark."

[wickedwit]

At this point, Claudius has just accepted that all of Shen Qingqiu's Pokemon types sound like reasonable archetypes for categorizing people's temperaments. It's about as reasonable as humoral theory. "Oh, that does make sense," he says. "It's fitting both because Crowley has an affinity for plants, and because we're both benefitting from a plant he's familiar with." The weed/Bl pollen. "As for darkness, he's more ... suggestible but in a rebellious way? Compared to the other types so far, I mean." Specifically the Dom/sub archetypes, but Claudius just waves a hand vaguely and hopes that conveys it. "I'd have to know who the other dark types are to fully judge it."

[peaklordshen]

"Oh," says Shen Qingqiu, and flushes a little. "Um. The only other one I have is you. And possibly Yuri, but I haven't spent enough time with him to be sure about that one yet."

[wickedwit]

"We are the same type." Claudius nods in appreciation, propping himself up a little. "Yuri, I spoke to for a long time while drinking laudanum, but I don't recall a word of it¹. But I like that Crowley and I are the same type. Crowley's more suggestible to me than I am to him, though." This is, as far as he's concerned, an undeniable fact. But actually Crowley has made Claudius nicer; Claudius is just good at pushing Crowley into doing things like taking off his shirt so that Claudius can attempt to derive a blood parasite cure. That's a good example to voice out loud, actually. "Like when I told him to take off his shirt."

¹ So this is carte blanche for an ongoing thread!

[peaklordshen]

Claudius really likes taking off men's shirts. Shen Qingqiu has not taken off a single man's shirt since he took bl pollen, which feels distinctly unfair. "Your secondary typings are different," he says, to explain the difference in suggestibility. "Grass type I guess would be more submissive—soft petals and stuff," he says, vaguely. "Whereas it makes sense Poison¹ would be good at making people do things."

¹It does not occur to him that he has not explained that poison is Claudius' other typing, nor that describing someone as poison might be taken a little more negatively than, say, dragon or fairy.

[wickedwit]

"Well, that depends on the poison," Claudius says thoughtfully. "There are some with effects on a person's mind -- that induce visions, and so on. Or that disrupt the humors and cause spells of great fear and unease, confusion and madness, before they eventually kill you. I used to like the idea of those a great deal¹ But the poison truly is in the dose. Many things will kill you if you partake in too much of them. There are also herbal remedies that influence the mind by causing spells of euphoria, like the one we're taking now. I can also make this as a tincture, you know, if you are ever in the need for more of it it."

^{1 What an excessively villainous thing to say. There's a reason why he's just letting the poison thing slide, and that's because when his inhibition is lowered, he really does just think poison is kinda neat.}

[peaklordshen]

"Oh," says Shen Qingqiu, surprised. He hadn't thought Crowley had initiated Claudius into the production of the BL pollen, as well as partaking of it together, but he guesses it makes sense. Especially since he figured out Claudius is the hot lion. He blinks, suddenly nervous. "Will this kill me if I partake in too much of it?" Is it possible to become so gay you die??

[wickedwit]

"This? No." Claudius briefly considers whether smoking or inhaling vapor would have different consequences for one's health than tinctures. All of his era's knowledge and learning tell him no, probably not. "You might oversleep after you've finished partaking, but it's safer than laudanum. Too much laudanum can kill you¹."

^{1 Obligatory disclaimer: Claudius, the villain from Hamlet, is not your doctor.}

[peaklordshen]

"I don't think laudanum helps with needing to kiss boys, either," says Shen Qinqgiu, though he really doesn't know much about it. It's just a drug people take in movies for headaches as foreshadowing that they're going to die later. Like coughing blood into a handkerchief.

[wickedwit]

“You’ve admitted you need to kiss them, at least.” Because of the BL pollen — strange that Claudius would feel need to say such a self-evident thing. He holds out a finger as he expostulates. “It’s so easy to lie to one’s self, and not for any reward or challenge. You don’t even get the satisfaction of having carried off a clever lie, once you catch yourself doing it. Far better to know what you want, even if pursuing it ends in catastrophe … oh, but I’m sure it won’t be such a catastrophe.” Suddenly he’s stricken with fondness for, well, everything, including this strange young man who may be an august cultivator who may be something else entirely from China, and who definitely wants Luo Binghe. “Even if it is, I’ve every faith you can kiss Luo Binghe. I’m sure courting a little catastrophe is worth it for you.”

[peaklordshen]

Shen Qingqiu rankles at his, a little. How'd they end up back on Binghe when they'd been talking about Pokemon? He'd much rather talk to Claudius about Pokemon than about Binghe. How many times is he going to come complaining to Shen Qingqiu about being a jilted wife??¹ Sorry, man, it's Shen Qingqiu's arc right now. Come back in a few weeks for your scene where you call Binghe out in a jealous rage, and then he backs you against a wall, towering and beautiful, and then you have hate-sex, which would have been hotter, by the way, if you hadn't gotten him to take the parasites out.

You have to do a different arc between the jilting and the making up. It's like Claudius has never read a serialized wife-collecting novel in his life. Which, right, he hasn't. Because he's a lion from Lion King. Or whatever. What had they been talking about? Oh, right. "It won't be catastrophe," he says. "Some of us know how to treat Binghe the way he deserves."

¹ Yes, that's exactly what's going on right now.

[wickedwit]

"Ay, ay." Claudius laughs appreciatively, because he is still so, so fond, and sure that whatever problems he caused with Luo Binghe are problems Shen Qingqiu's willingly taken on. He wouldn't be here talking about kissing boys otherwise. Claudius also just stopped caring. "Galahad deserves a type other than melancholic," he says. (That's what he was thinking when he stopped caring.) "What other types?"

[peaklordshen]

"Oh, Galahad is grass and fire," says Shen Qingqiu immediately. "Specifically, like, Cherrim. You know? Closed up tight until he sees the sun, and then he's sunlight himself."

[wickedwit]

"He is sunlight himself," Claudius agrees at once. "Beyond even the holy fire -- he's light to me. I wither without him. God, I'm ridiculous in love. I thought he'd closed himself up to me forever, that I'd never see him or if I did, it would be regretful silences and stares. I love to look at his eyes, but I don't think I could've met his eyes, then. He sent me flowers. He is the flower, the flower and the sunlight. I'd make a pagan idol of him, if only to worship him. And I am not a worshipful man. Except for in love. It's a shame I can't poison God, or I would, and take over the Kingdom of Heaven to give to him as a toy. It makes me so glad to look in his eyes." Some earlier part of the conversation floats through his head before he can dwell on anything alarming he's said about killing gods. "Could I be evolving?"