#LSTROVS ft. courtlieshq โก how smoke never reveals where the fire truly is / the pulse that stutters when someone else is inside your mind / how silk can hide armour if you weave it tight enough / the art of asking a question you already know the answer to / the slow press of a thought that isnโt yours
li wei kai [ twenty-seven 497 ] autumn court / emissary [ he / him ]
( intro . pinterest . playlist . )
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TAPPING HER FOOT IN TUNE WITH THE MUSIC COULD HARDLY BE CALLED DANCING. It wasn't that she wasn't feeling it, but rather the disappointment of the other courts' bailing on the masquerade, thus ridding her of the opportunity to do what she'd intended to do, had really put her in a sour mood. When a voice spoke nearby she nearly yelped.
so much for her valkyrie training vigilance.
"Hey, how about you try to wear this corset and we'll see how your shoulders will fare." Isa retorted, a smirk plastered on her painted lips. "Is this your way of having fun? Jotting down who's enjoying the masquerade and who's a little... stiff." she grinned at the latter.
a brow lifts with a moderated interest and impeccable composure that fits him like skin, smile as lazy as drifting smoke.
" the last time i put one on, i looked exquisite. " she cannot disprove him, try as she might, and the slant of his mouth betrays no hint. he steps closer, offering a palm, " i would need parchment for that. "
the brush of his cloak against frost-kissed stone leaves a train of wetness in its wake. " you are not stiff... distracted. " he knows this from the tell-tale yelp. head cants, as if this detail should have been obvious to her. " i only wonder why. though if you prefer, we can blame the corset. "
the place is a dreamscape, beautiful, but with the details blotted out; muddied by something he can't quite place. he's been watching the dancefloor, when he decides to test a theory. dagger stops spinning abruptly, tucked away into his belt, falling in step with the music, refusing to crowd his target. " most people would believe you're enjoying yourself... " his lip curves, head canting, as if he's already placed a bet on the outcome of his own curiosity. " your shoulders disagree. "
(ย chang huasen, 27/497, li wei kai, cismale, he/him + daemati ) Underneath the sparkling sky, did you see CHANG HUASENย being tipped by the Cauldron? No, that's just LI WEI KAI, who is the EMISSARY from AUTUMN. I heard that on most days they're CALCULATING and CHARISMATICย but if you catch them on a dark night, they can beย SECRETIVEย and PROUD. But if you really get to know them, you'll know that they vibe withย DAGGER SPINNING IN HAND ABSENT-MINDEDLY, METALLIC SCORPION ON SILK, PARCHMENT AGAINST CANDLELIGHT.
BACKGROUND
born the third child of a house close enough to the seat of power to smell its smoke, but far enough not to taste it. wei kai and his siblings were raised for glory and usefulness; traits he does not resent. usefulness keeps men alive, and glory? glory marinates your foes just long enough to breed doubt. and doubt makes mistakes.
as he observed the comings and goings of elders, he discovered that truth, is a coward; it rarely stands in a sentence by itself. it will hide in the silence that follows; the breath taken a shade too long, the glance cast sideways, the laugh that arrives a beat too late. this will serve him well into maturity, not just by way of observation, but in schooling his own features and habits to reflect the opposite.
the daemati gift revealed itself without fanfare. a brush of another's thoughts during a lesson. the sour tang of envy. the flash of fear before a lie. he withdrew quickly, by instinct. it felt indecent to pry. indecency, he would later understand, was merely a matter of who held the advantage.
he trained himself as he trained with the blade: patiently and with precision.
his demeanour reflects the prize of autumn court, the sly playfulness of a fox, but it is the scorpion that those who have crossed him have come to associate him with. he prefers daggers to swords, and his strike tends to be deadly. he finds his precision cleaner than the cruelty of making a mess.
as emissary of the autumn court, he learned the pleasure of distance. he travels in dark silks that drink the light, his scorpion sigil etched so subtly into his signet that one has to look twice to see it. he prefers this, the second glance. the delayed understanding. venom need not be poured to be effective. the knowledge that it exists is often enough.
PERSONALITY, TRAITS, HABITS, HEADCANONS
he is quite annoying in teeny tiny ways
has a few daggers, he's named all of them because he's obnoxious, but he only tends to spin 1 of them when he's idle: his favourite baby elaria
can be occasionally a bit naive, but is also self-aware about it. wears it like a badge. weirdo.
his tantrums are unfortunate, they aren't loud or violent, he'll sabotage you to death
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