"There is no fair or unfair, no deserving or not, there is only what happens," he answers quietly, the sorrow, for once, unmistakable in his voice. "But," he starts, then pauses to swallow past the tightness in his throat, before he resumes in a choked whisper, "It was unfair. And impossible. And didi and I both... we both deserved better." As had so many people in the desolation and misery that the meteor had made of their entire world.
Shen Wei feels vaguely like he should feel condescended to, but he doesn't really, and he huffs quietly and reaches up to pat the back of one of Jedao's hands. He does feel... awkward enough that maybe he should end the embrace, and yet he finds he doesn't actually want to. Not yet.
"As did you," he answers. Even though he doesn't know all the details of xiao Jedao's history, he very much knows that much. He and his progenitor both did. He waits another beat then adds, a little hesitantly, but with the kind of quiet that's born of something like peace rather than pain, "If you make that request of the Admiral now, there is a power I would like to share with you."
Shen Wei closes his eyes with a small gasp as he feels the world expanding around him, and himself expanding to fill it. Xiao Jedao had already given him his most important power back, in his ability perceive the universe around him, along with his most... useful powers. But this, this is the full measure of of what it means to be himself, all the powers, great and small, that have altered and defined both his brain and energy patterns, and he feels almost full to bursting, in a universe that feels limitless with potential.
When he opens his eyes, for a moment they're the black of them is as cold and deep and dark as space and the empty places between, shot through with sparks of blue and white starlight. And then they're just black again, and he turns so that he can wrap his own arms around xiao Jedao before he can think better of it.
"Thank you," he rasps, almost too overwhelmed to speak.
He holds on for a long moment, then pulls away and resettles himself, comfortably cross-legged this time, his expression soft and tired.
He raises both hands in front of him, palms up at chest height, and for a second there's nothing then, suddenly, a sparkle of pale, translucent pink wells up from his one of his palms, taking shape as an elegant little butterfly. It's followed by another and another and another, puple and red and green and gold, until a dozen or more butterflies, in every color of the rainbow, flutters in the air between them, perfect in every tiny detail, and Shen Wei looks almost shyly through them to where xiao Jedao sits.
"A great many of my powers are of no harm, and little use to anyone," he points out softly as he lowers his hands and the butterflies break free from their constraints to make their random, erratic, and graceful way around the room.
Jedao is a little worn-out emotionally as well, but the beautiful, delicate butterflies makes his eyes light up a little with warm wonder.
"Oh...oh that's lovely," he says softly. "...would it hurt them, to get chased by cats?" he wonders. He wouldn't want them hurt. But if they vanished like a laser dot or popped like soap bubbles, it might be very entertaining.
"Not at all," he answers, smiling softly at xiao Jedao's wonder. "The man I learned them from used them to keep the children occupied when they had to hide in the caves when we were under attack during the war. I was told he'd allow them catch them, and then they'd reappear, or double or triple." As he speaks, one of the butterflies lands on xiao Jedaos' left shoulder, and another flutters right in front of his nose, close enough that it's clearly only light, however detailed and graceful.
"I never saw it, of course, I was always in combat," he adds. "But he asked me to learn his power, hoping that I might be able to find a way to turn it into a weapon. He was a young man, and shamed at being sent to guard the children while his brothers were fighting." Shen Wei shakes his head sadly. "He brought so much joy in the darkness, where the rest of us brought only death."
His heart breaks a little for the long-ago young man, but true to his prediction, the melancholy of the moment is, if not shattered, at least well jostled when Jeep jumps on the table, trying to bat at one of the gleaming butterflies.
Shen Wei's eyes crinkle with amusement as the little dragon swats one of the butterflies and it disappears in a shower of rainbow sparks, and then two more reform and dart away in opposite directions.
"You're welcome," he answers, turning his smile xiao Jedao's way. "And thank you, for giving it back to me."
He considers the offer, the time, how long it's likely to be before Zhao Yunlan wakes up, and flows smoothly to his feet, the butterflies continuing to flutter and dart for Jeep's amusement. "How do you feel about noodles?" he asks. It's early still, after all, and Zhao Yunlan is notoriously not an early riser.
"I suppose it is," he agrees as he turns towards the kitchen... and then he pauses mid-step, his gaze going distant for a moment, and with a there and gone shimmer of dark energy his robes disappear and he's standing there in a rich blue dress slacks, a crisp white shirt, a coordinating waist coat, and tight blue sleeve garters. A moment later his long hair is replaced by Professor Shen's tidily short hair and a shiver runs down the spine at the loss of its weight. But his is more practical for cooking, really.
He smooths his hands down his waistcoat, then resumes his path to the kitchen. "Rice noodles, I think, if you have rice flour," he murmurs, and sets to work.
[OOC: and fade on quiet cooking of rice noodles, as I'm sure Hakkai has rice flour and anything else needed?]
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"As did you," he answers. Even though he doesn't know all the details of xiao Jedao's history, he very much knows that much. He and his progenitor both did. He waits another beat then adds, a little hesitantly, but with the kind of quiet that's born of something like peace rather than pain, "If you make that request of the Admiral now, there is a power I would like to share with you."
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He silently gets out his communicator and types in the request.
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When he opens his eyes, for a moment they're the black of them is as cold and deep and dark as space and the empty places between, shot through with sparks of blue and white starlight. And then they're just black again, and he turns so that he can wrap his own arms around xiao Jedao before he can think better of it.
"Thank you," he rasps, almost too overwhelmed to speak.
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He raises both hands in front of him, palms up at chest height, and for a second there's nothing then, suddenly, a sparkle of pale, translucent pink wells up from his one of his palms, taking shape as an elegant little butterfly. It's followed by another and another and another, puple and red and green and gold, until a dozen or more butterflies, in every color of the rainbow, flutters in the air between them, perfect in every tiny detail, and Shen Wei looks almost shyly through them to where xiao Jedao sits.
"A great many of my powers are of no harm, and little use to anyone," he points out softly as he lowers his hands and the butterflies break free from their constraints to make their random, erratic, and graceful way around the room.
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"Oh...oh that's lovely," he says softly. "...would it hurt them, to get chased by cats?" he wonders. He wouldn't want them hurt. But if they vanished like a laser dot or popped like soap bubbles, it might be very entertaining.
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"I never saw it, of course, I was always in combat," he adds. "But he asked me to learn his power, hoping that I might be able to find a way to turn it into a weapon. He was a young man, and shamed at being sent to guard the children while his brothers were fighting." Shen Wei shakes his head sadly. "He brought so much joy in the darkness, where the rest of us brought only death."
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"Thank you for sharing it," Jedao says softly.
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"You're welcome," he answers, turning his smile xiao Jedao's way. "And thank you, for giving it back to me."
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"They're yours, that's all," Jedao says.
"Do you want to head home for now, or teach me how to cook something comforting?"
No more pain work today.
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He smooths his hands down his waistcoat, then resumes his path to the kitchen. "Rice noodles, I think, if you have rice flour," he murmurs, and sets to work.
[OOC: and fade on quiet cooking of rice noodles, as I'm sure Hakkai has rice flour and anything else needed?]