[ there's still no movement, at least, not at first. he's like a marionette with its strings cut at the moment, dissociated out of his body, some part of him hoping almost desperately that this is just a fucked up dream like he has all the time, that he'll wake up in twenty minutes and run to the window of his hotel room and look out at the screens and see wenzhou, tired and smoking like a chimney, but holding up the emotional support of everyone around him, instead.
you don't understand, his thoughts start, like a broken record, a car trying to start, broken and staticked and wrong and angry, violent, angry, but he manages to continue, out loud: ] I - when I died, I - he was supposed to, the ones who are winning had to protect him, that was part of why.
[ that was part of why i went quietly, he can't finish.
the words come, finally, in a torrent. he wasn't supposed to die. the idea of him being kind makes him want to protest, too, emotions like a tidal wave of despair and anger, misdirected and grieving. they didn't even find him he has to be the one that's in pieces why would he agree to do that who would do that to him i'll do it to them in return no no no -
fei du has to cut the thought off, has to try and grab for an ounce of his normally precious, fine tuned self control, a drowning man in an ocean. and though he doesn't approach d, he finally looks at him.
... and he's crying.
fei du doesn't cry. he's not even really sure he can. in a moment outside of this, somewhere, wildly, he's looking at it like he's outside of his body in a sort of hysteric amazement and surprise - but there are tears running down his cheeks. ]
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you don't understand, his thoughts start, like a broken record, a car trying to start, broken and staticked and wrong and angry, violent, angry, but he manages to continue, out loud: ] I - when I died, I - he was supposed to, the ones who are winning had to protect him, that was part of why.
[ that was part of why i went quietly, he can't finish.
the words come, finally, in a torrent. he wasn't supposed to die. the idea of him being kind makes him want to protest, too, emotions like a tidal wave of despair and anger, misdirected and grieving. they didn't even find him he has to be the one that's in pieces why would he agree to do that who would do that to him i'll do it to them in return no no no -
fei du has to cut the thought off, has to try and grab for an ounce of his normally precious, fine tuned self control, a drowning man in an ocean. and though he doesn't approach d, he finally looks at him.
... and he's crying.
fei du doesn't cry. he's not even really sure he can. in a moment outside of this, somewhere, wildly, he's looking at it like he's outside of his body in a sort of hysteric amazement and surprise - but there are tears running down his cheeks. ]