Does This Count As Arts and Crafts? [closed]

[summerdude]

In the wake of Dark, Magnus takes a day or two to dig camp out from the snow drifts with Alex, then presents himself, finally, for lessons with Hanguang-jun.

They've been talking about it for a while, him and Hanguang-jun and Galahad — since Magnus first got weird about Galahad becoming Hanguang-jun's student. By now, he pretty much knows he's not going to stop feeling weird about stepping into a lesson with the two of them — even one totally unrelated to sword stuff — so he might as well rip off that proverbial bandaid.

He's a largely punctual guy, a trait recently intensified by Sunny's interest in making plans to hang out in one week and Magnus's role in keeping her calendar, but there is still a lot of snow to fight through to get to the Mansion's doors. He's a little breathless when he sweeps into the agreed-upon room, raking melting snow out of his hair with his fingers.

"What's up, my favorite comedians?"

Comments

[lightbearinglord]

Naturally, Lan Wangji has been here, and prepared, for approximately an incense time prior to Magnus' arrival. The room they have chosen is merely his own familiar study with its bamboo mats on the floors, the incense burner tucked into the corner, the low desk at which he sits to write or read. Its only addition for the day is a second desk for his students' use. Afternoon sun paints the room, golden already with the shortness of winter days.

With Galahad perfectly on time, the two of them are waiting in companionable silence when Magnus clatters in. Lan Wangji looks up and gives him a glance of mild but easily-perceptible fondness.

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad smiles. He's found smiling has become easier and easier around Magnus and Claudius, and now it's something he almost never thinks about; it feels like the right expression for his face to make with these two expressive people he loves. Moreover, he's grateful that Magnus has finally agreed to this lesson, which he'd suggested months ago. Perhaps the cracking earth he'd felt opening up between them is finally settling back into place again, and won't split after all.

Magnus, he signs.

[summerdude]

Galahad! Magnus signs back. He curtsies politely to Hanguang-jun just in case that's the vibe, swipes one more chunk of snow out of his hair, and wipes his hands on the side of his hoodie. "Um, where should I sit?"

[lightbearinglord]

"Beside Galahad. Take off your shoes." The added desk should fit the pair of them side by side, and Lan Wangji has already set out inkstones, inksticks, brushes, xuan paper, and a pitcher of water.

[onthewillowsthere]

He's been watching Lan Wangji's preparations attentively, and he shifts over slightly so there's enough for room for Magnus to kneel beside him (is this how it would have felt if he had had friends when he was a child? Would he have learned side-by-side with other students? Is this how Magnus learned before his schools because intolerable?).

[summerdude]

Magnus kneels down to remove his shoes, which are much more suited to springtime hiking than the depths of winter but which are still water-resistant and well-broken in, and then scoots on his knees over to Galahad, where he sits cross-legged. He gives Galahad a little sideways hello cuddle and surveys the implements. "Will we be able to, um, even recognize characters?" He's learned, like, ten with Uncle D's secret Chinese lessons in the tower -- which is just enough to finally truly clock that a ton of the text around here is automatically translating into English for him.

[lightbearinglord]

"Mn. For today." Lan Wangji nods toward the study wall behind Magnus and Galahad, where a neat series of talismans is stuck to the wall, far more neatly than the hand that drew them would have affixed them. "Young mistress Nina lent her assistance to Wei Ying and to me. Text will remain as written."

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad looks up curiously. He knows Nina has some power over death, but how that intersects with the talismans on the wall is a mystery. The priest who visited the nunnery to teach him scripture never liked it when he asked questions, but Lan Wangji is a different sort of teacher, so he asks. "What did she do?"

[summerdude]

"Wait, do her language skillz," and of course Magnus pronounces the 'z,' "extend to, like, language magic? ...I mean, science? Of the itty bitty variety?"

[lightbearinglord]

"She has a good sense for the parts of this mansion where the translation spell is weak, along with enthusiasm for allowing lengthy experimentation."

[onthewillowsthere]

Nina does have a great deal of enthusiasm and patience, as he knows from their occasional adventures in the kitchen. He nods and assumes his attentive pose again, a student waiting to learn.

[summerdude]

Magnus gives Galahad a curious look -- he's seen him in a bajillion different kinds of contexts, but he's never really seen him as a student, outside of the few times he's met up with Galahad right at the end of training. And swords make things a little different, vibes-wise. Is this what it means to be a respectful, attentive student? Is this why so many of Magnus's teachers hate him? There's no way he's going to sit up that straight and be that quiet and focused, even for someone he loves as much as Hanguang-jun. He shifts around, trying to find a comfortable position.

[lightbearinglord]

After a beat, when it becomes evident that Magnus is, surprisingly, not going to ask further questions, Lan Wangji asks, "Do you know how to grind ink?" He suspects not, but who is he to say what his two students from their disparate backgrounds may bring to this lesson?

[onthewillowsthere]

He shakes his head. He knows how to make ink from galls from his years in the nunnery, but the mansion has always provided him with ballpoint pens, which seem just as effective and less potentially messy.

[summerdude]

"Do what now?" Magnus asks, going on an entire mental image journey of Hanguang-jun grinding and shredding on a rail. Hanguang-jun would probably kick ass on a skateboard, is the thing, but he's fairly certain that this is a different kind of grinding (and it's probably not a dancing kind of grind, either, though he's willing to try out an ink dance, so that the ink rains will arrive, if he has to).

[lightbearinglord]

"Grind ink." Lan Wangji comes around from behind his own desk, then kneels again before Magnus and Galahad. "I have given you each an inkstone and an ink stick. You need to prepare the ink itself before you can write."

[onthewillowsthere]

Galahad looks at the inkstone and immediately understands. The ink must be added to liquid, like the oak galls would be, and presumably ground down in some fashion for use since it comes in the form of a solid stick. "Will you show us the technique, Hanguang-jun?"

[summerdude]

Magnus, thinking about all of the colonial history activities and camps he was exposed to as a kid, adds, "So we're not gonna be, like, boiling walnut shells."

[lightbearinglord]

"No," Lan Wangji says with a flicker of amusement. He retrieves his inkstone and a fresh ink stick; he lays them out in front of him. "A small amount of water is sufficient." From the little pitcher he's brought up, he pours water into the well of his inkstone, just enough to partially coat its flat surface. That done, he demonstrates picking up the ink stick and grinding it in precise circular motions through the water. "The weight of your hand is enough. No more force is required." Indeed, the water begins to turn black with the ink almost at once.

[onthewillowsthere]

It's elegantly done. It seems made to suit Lan Wangji: his deliberate way of doing things, his care and attention to the act of writing. Galahad picks up the pitcher and pours a measure into the well of his own inkstone, then passed it to Magnus.

[summerdude]

Magnus has a feeling he's not going to be very good at this, but he's still taking cues on how not to piss teachers off from Galahad -- when to speak and when to listen -- so he just does his best to pour an appropriate amount of water into his dish, and knows immediately that he's definitely poured in way, way too much. It's full enough to spill. "Um," he whispers, looking up.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji doesn't bother saying aloud that Magnus has overfilled his inkstone; this is evident, and Magnus clearly knows it. He shakes back his sleeves and reaches to pick it up, exceedingly careful to keep it level such that it doesn't spill before he can pour its contents back into the mouth of the pitcher. "Try it again," he suggests as he sets the inkstone back down beside Magnus.

[onthewillowsthere]

For his part, Galahad waits. There's no need to be anything but patient; the lesson will proceed when both of them are ready. He likes the feeling of the three of them working together.

[summerdude]

Okay, looks like it's still quiet time! Very, very carefully, Magnus tilts the tiniest splash of water into his dish, and then looks up, as if asking if that's enough.

[lightbearinglord]

"Better," Lan Wangji says, because this is true. "You may need more later. Try grinding the ink." This last, he addresses to both of them.

[onthewillowsthere]

He shoots a little smile at Magnus and picks up his inkstick. Grinding it against the wet stone is easy.

[summerdude]

Magnus suddenly doesn't know the weight of his own hand. He has augmented strength, will that make the weight of his hand heavier in practice? Should he lift up? Or is that overcorrecting? Should he push harder? Galahad is still being very well-behaved, and Hanguang-jun has clearly enjoyed having him as a student for well over a year now, which is fine and good and great and Magnus is very, very happy for them both. Lan Sizhui also seemed nice and chill and respectful, so Magnus definitely has to lean into resisting all of his wise-cracking urges and also be quiet and respectful so that he doesn't, like, somehow fall ass-backwards into Hanguang-jun regretting everything about this.

He's rubbing the ink stick in very, very careful circles on the stone. It seems to be working? He's not using too much pressure to push it down, and the pigment is mixing with the water in a way that looks more or less fine. His grip on the stick itself is very, very firm, but he seems to have figured out the optimal weight of his own hand to make this work out, and--

--the stick snaps in half in his hand.

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji has been watching them both, and he should have warned Magnus that his grip was too tight, but perhaps it is better to have let him stumble across the mistake for himself. He doesn't flinch or seem particularly perturbed by the breaking of the ink stick. "You can keep grinding it in halves," he says.

[onthewillowsthere]

Are you okay? Galahad sets down his inkstick: his fingers flash through the words. Overwhelmed?

[summerdude]

Magnus is beet red, is what he is. Partly in response to Galahad's question, he ducks his head in a move that looks equally like nodding, shaking his head, and trying to get his hair -- regrettably, freshly-shorn by Alex -- to fall over his eyes so he can hide behind it. "Um," he whispers. "Both halves or just one?"

[lightbearinglord]

Lan Wangji has never seen Magnus react this unfavorably to a mishap in the kitchen, their usual setting for teaching and learning, and he hesitates now, silently taken aback. Magnus is easily flustered, but Lan Wangji knows him well enough to recognize that this is something slightly more dire. "One at a time. Magnus?"

[onthewillowsthere]

I should go? Hanguang-jun alone?

[summerdude]

"No," Magnus blurts. It's been twelve years since he's been in any kind of classroom, unless Poetry Reading To the Death counts. He barely remembers how to be a student, much less a good one -- most teachers have agreed he's been a displeasure to have in class... and that was before he shed all his good manners on the streets. Too disruptive, his report cards regularly said. Too disrespectful. Asks too many questions. Won't sit quietly. Distracts the other students.

Galahad has been Hanguang-jun's student for a year. Galahad knows how to be a good student who Hanguang-jun likes. And maybe Hanguang-jun had a reason for wanting to be Magnus's teacher way back when, too, but that's because he's never had Magnus as a student. Magnus needs to have Galahad there, not just because he's his brother and best friend and someone Magnus always, always wants to hang out with, but because Magnus needs to know how to act.

And here he is, being disruptive again even though he's trying really hard not to be. Everyone (all two of them!) is paying attention to Magnus instead of to the lesson. Very carefully, Magnus sets half of the ink stick to the side, right where it was before. It can probably belong there just fine, or else why would Hanguang-jun have put it there in the first place? Gods, this was all so much easier when Magnus cared more about being right than being liked. (This is also why it's easier with Lancelot: it's outside; disruptiveness is part of the lesson; Magnus didn't start caring about being liked until after he'd already figured out their dynamic and the rhythm of that kind of education.)

"No," he says again, projecting the vibes of a guy who is totally calm and normal and who hasn't just gone (as he is, at least, aware) from zero to sixty in anxiety in about two seconds flat. "Nah, I'm good. See?" He starts grinding his ink again, very verrrry carefully.