[when Dante looks up to see who spoke, he's being watched by a tall man in white a few feet away -- not a familiar sight, but still very recognizable to him. Lan Wangji's robes are still strangely pristine, though not spotless. there are scorch marks along the hem and one sleeve, blood from a not-too-serious wound on his arm that he's wrapped and seems to be mostly ignoring, and more blood that marks his chest and his other sleeve, as if someone bled on him while he was carrying them. there's a dirt smudge on one of his cheeks. still, he's somehow managed to remain distinctive enough that he nearly glows in the faint light.
he's still holding a piece of rubble that was blocking the intersection he just emerged from, and now he leans it against the wall where it won't get in the way and and straightens back up, still watching Dante in a measuring way.]
the aftermath
[when Dante looks up to see who spoke, he's being watched by a tall man in white a few feet away -- not a familiar sight, but still very recognizable to him. Lan Wangji's robes are still strangely pristine, though not spotless. there are scorch marks along the hem and one sleeve, blood from a not-too-serious wound on his arm that he's wrapped and seems to be mostly ignoring, and more blood that marks his chest and his other sleeve, as if someone bled on him while he was carrying them. there's a dirt smudge on one of his cheeks. still, he's somehow managed to remain distinctive enough that he nearly glows in the faint light.
he's still holding a piece of rubble that was blocking the intersection he just emerged from, and now he leans it against the wall where it won't get in the way and and straightens back up, still watching Dante in a measuring way.]