While Fei Du talks, D takes the opportunity to have a few bites of the cinnamon roll since he had such a huge conniption about it. It's held very gingerly with the tippy-tips of his fingers and nails. Sticky.
IT'S SO GOOD. It soothes the hurt of the McFlurry machine being broken.]
The business life didn't suit you then? Would you rather have done something else instead?
[ sticky! very. he seems pleased that d seems to like it, though, giving him an eyebrow raise that suggests - right? isn't it good?
the comment makes him make a thoughtful noise, though, as he munches on his own cinnamon roll, equally as careful not to get any sort of cinnamon on his hands. listen. he gets it. ]
Mmm... no, it suits me. I came into it - sort of a family business. I don't mind it too much. It's more like I just don't control as much of it as my forbearer did. He's not quite dead, you see, so there's little point in me taking the entire thing over, in case he returns.
[When Fei Du comes into the selfie shop, one of the rooms has a bit of ruckus in it. Not bad ruckus. Funny ruckus?
D is sitting in a prop tub full of clear, plastic balls like he's taking a bath. He's laughing? Oddly enough, it's a genuine laugh, but that isn't surprising when it's clear the reason he's laughing is because of T-chan.
The totetsu is in the tub with him! ...Biting away at one slender, pale arm, the flowy sleeve having come down.]
[ i was afraid to see what this was with your emote plurk thing but im glad it was mostly safe
anyway here is a fei du making his way through this selfie room. when he looks over and sees this, he... will stay slightly at a distance for reasons unknown, but his mouth crooks up into an amused grin, anyway. ]
Why did Fei Du have to say it like that? But yes, this is the kind of person D is: a freak. It really doesn't seem to bother him at all that T-chan is gnawing so badly on his arm. These are...love bites. Yes. His other hand is petting T-chan's fur!]
This makes me nostalgic for the time you wanted to eat me...
[T-chan pauses suddenly and lifts his head to look in the direction of the doorway. Hmmm!]
What's wrong? [D is pulling the sleeve back into place.] Is someone there?
after all of that, fei du can be found innnn the ikea. he's sitting in a chair tucked away a bit, a green jacket slung around his shoulders, and most importantly, there's soft music playing from his phone that's sitting on his lap.
his eyes are closed, but, at least it doesn't look like he's asleep or anything! hello ]
[tags this fastly before i have to make all my other ones
It's so funny, D is just gliding through Ikea toward the melodious sounds of Josh Groban's voice like a murder trial didn't just happen. T-chan is not with him funnily enough; it's only him. He stops in front of Fei Du, watching.]
It didn't look like you had a very good time there at the end, President Fei.
by the time d gets close, the music has stopped - he pauses it when he feels someone coming close, and his eyes open, refocusing back on the person in front of him.
and, well. he huffs a little. ] I think the stress might've gotten to me. [ okay. very lightly teasing - ] Were you concerned...?
[D is having a stroll around the museum, hands clasped together in front of himself.
Apparently, he likes the museum since he looks pretty delighted, though he does linger longer in front of anything animal related... I guess there can be giant megalodon bones.
He stands in front of it with the softest, fondest look in his eyes.]
the museum is also one of fei du’s favorites of the new places! but there is something especially funny about seeing d just out here. staring at dead animals. help.
joking as he comes up to stand next to him: ] Don’t tell me you had one of these in your pet shop, now.
[ haha damn remember when we were all just chilling and trauma dumping
wherever d's at in the park, eventually, he's going to have company! more specifically, it's fei du; he's got the lord and master lord yiguo's paws slung over his shoulder and is holding him, because he's knocked the fuck out, spoiled. ]
[ he will come to plop down on his other side without too much fanfare. yiguo makes a sleepy mrrrp noise and he turns his shoulder just slightly so the cat's towards D. if he wants to greet him. you know. as you do. ]
hey we're hanging out because of course we are! TWO OF THEM! REUNITED! and as d and fei du are vibing
one of these goddamn pigs shows up! and it shows this! ]
[ you're small - maybe five years old, and you went running around in the garden.
at least, you think that's what happened. this memory is fuzzy and hazy; the man, an enormous black shadow, seems to loom over you and you feel terror clutch at your heart. the man's voice is as soft as silk despite his presence, and he speaks to you from on high.
"Only dogs like to run around and play. Fei Du, are you a little dog?"
you feel a sense of confusion. the man takes your hand and pulls you along - somewhere - somewhere - and then, you remember. there's a puppy. it's tiny, so small it could fit in your tiny, tiny hand. it runs towards you, stumbling and faltering, freshly born, and you gently, hesitantly, hold out your hand. the puppy clumsily reaches, too, standing up on its hind paws and slapping its tiny paws into your hand. it sniffs, snuffles at your cold hand.
you feel warm, and you pet it, gently, with just your fingertip.
the man sighs. his voice, ice cold. "There's unhealthy blood flowing in this child. It must be corrected."
the puppy cries out, a sharp, terrified noise as the man picks it up. and then -
there are cold rings slid onto your fingers. a bundle of threads lead back from the rings and through a complex installation, and up, up to an ice cold ring of iron that's been buckled around your small neck. if the threads slacken a millimeter, then the iron band tightens a centimeter. if the threads go entirely slack, the collar clamps around your throat. your fingers twitch and you can't breathe - you are so tiny, and you can't breathe, and you desperately claw at the strings to try and pull on the threads, try to squeeze your fingers together and stretch out your arm and the band that's choking you, panicking you, loosens. slackens. you inhale, a sharp gasp straight down your windpipe, and start coughing, violently enough to wrack your shoulders.
the man laughs, satisfied. "You have to learn to breathe slowly. Clever. It seems there's no need for anyone to teach you. You've already learned how not to asphyxiate."
--
abruptly, the memory changes.
you're sitting in a chair. still tiny, and - your body is strapped into the chair, held down with clinically tied belts. you can't move anything but your fingers, the metal rings, the threads. you're in so much pain - you must have been on death's doorstep for an hour, now, your entire body ice cold, lightheaded, lungs burning, and throat aching. the metal of the iron ring cuts into your skin.
the man returns holding the very same puppy. this is reality. he places it in your other palm, and asks, soft: "Is it soft?"
the dog sniffs at your hand. it must know how terrified you are, because it immediately struggles to push at your hand, licking at your fingers, nuzzling. the man laughs again, soft, and asks, "Is it cute?
you hesitate, and then, you nod.
wrong answer.
the shackle around your neck tightens - you make a horrifying, rasping gasp as your windpipe is squeezed tighter, tighter by ice cold iron, and you subconsciously start squeezing your fingers together stop the pain stop it i can't breathe i need to breathe i can't breathe
the collar loosens loosens, and air, beautiful air fills your lungs, but in unison, the little dog lets out a mournful, pained cry, and with a start, you realize that your hand has closed in that motion around the dog's tiny, fragile neck. you let go - the threads go slack and the iron clamps and you're choking again and you start struggling and thrashing in the chair and -
your memory goes dark, there.
--
but it happens again.
sometimes it's a bird. sometimes it's a squirrel. sometimes it's a cat. a rabbit. it's an animal and your father places your hand around its neck in those iron rings and chokes you until your survival instinct makes your hand clamp to keep those strings taut so you don't die. once, he says to you, as soft and gentle as a kind father who teaches, when he has you put a tiny hamster in your palm, "What is life? This is life."
he wraps his hand around yours this time, and he squeezes - tighter, tighter, as the animal starts to let out the wails of a dying creature - you thrash against his hand and you can't breathe and you gasp, and the man with a voice like a father wraps his hand tighter around yours so you can't let go. the animal makes no more noises, lungs laminated under the pressure of two hands.
"This is death.
It isn’t at all as serious as in people’s exaggerations. The reason why they exaggerate it is that man is a social animal with very grave inherent weaknesses. On the one hand, he wants to improve his existence with the help of the community and of society. On the other hand, he can hardly control all kinds of bizarre evil urges and desires. Therefore he has to agree on mutually restrictive rules, for example ‘law’ and ‘public policy doctrine.’ The former is a contract with society. To guard against you privately going back on the agreement, there’s also the latter, making a person accept the brainwashing of the community’s values and willingly conform to the behavior of the majority. Having recognized this point, you have escaped the pattern of the majority."
you stopped listening halfway through and you start shaking your head, violently, desperately trying to get free, thrashing in the chair, as the animal's heartbeat slows to a stop in your hand. the man with a voice like your father - your father, he keeps talking.
"Do you want to see the truth about life and death again… What are you shaking your head for? Children ought to be modest. You have to repeatedly reinforce the things you’ve learned before they can become your own. Come, we’ll start again—”
--
the memory changes again. time passes, and you are fifteen years old.
after your mother dies, the police are occasionally around the fei estate. one in particular, a messy haired young man named tao ran takes a particular liking to you, and you find you like him too - he's kind, maybe the kindest person you've ever met, and you like him so much better than his partner, the sharp, angry, scowling luo wenzhou who, in your fifteen year old opinion, is an idiot.
tao ran's kindness, being his best quality, means that he rescues a kitten one day. it's tiny, an ugly thing with its head too big for its body and its eyes too big for its face. he can't keep it - he lives with his parents - and maybe fei du should watch over it for a little while. you reluctantly agreed. you feed it and give it water, you make sure it has litter, and you turn a blind eye to it, because you have to, because you've been trained, haven't you? disinterest. dislike. the kitten is an ugly thing that you hate.
the kitten is naturally clingy. it comes to cuddle. if you don't play with it, it screams and whines, throwing tantrums. you hate it, but you don't get rid of it. once, it hooks its claws in your nice pant leg and throws itself on the ground, flopping over and demanding attention - it scratches your leg and makes you bleed. your patience with this creature has snapped, and you stare down it, coldly, deliberating how you're going to give it away, and then you hear the sound of a car in the driveway.
the cold deliberation is gone in a second.
the minute you hear fei chengyu's keys in the door - he's home from a business trip - you grab the kitten. you pull a little too hard on its claws to free them from your leg, and you take it in your hand, and then you squeeze it in your hand and it lets out a weak cry and then you
you open a desk drawer, you put the cat in, and you shut the drawer, and then you stride out of the study calmly. your father regards you for a moment.
he walks past you, and he sees the cat food you bought, alongside the small food dish and the small litter box. the litter box is freshly cleaned, and there's no cat food in a bowl. fei chengyu turns his head to look at you.
"What pet have you been keeping?" he asks. ]
A cat. [ you say, absentminded. casual. you're barely fifteen and you're deft as you pull on what your father wants to see. ] That busy-body policeman gave it to me.
[ fei chengyu finally turns his head to look at you again, and his face lights up with great interest. you know that face. it makes you sick to your stomach. "The little cop knows how to amuse children. Where's the cat? Let me see it."
you look at him. (hold the mask in place.) and you let out a laugh, a strange, cold, humorless laugh, and then spread out your hands. on your palm, there are few white and orange cat hairs, tinged red with blood. blood on your fingertips, too. ] Here it is.
[ fei chengyu tilts his head, and then sighs. he calmly lectures you - buy another cat that's about the same and give it back to tao ran, getting closer to the police would be a benefit in the future, wouldn't it? and he doesn't ask. you listen without looking up, and your heart is pounding so hard you feel like you might be sick.
your father accepts it and waves you off to make a call, and when he does, you lift your hand and blow on the cat hairs soundlessly, so they stick to fei chengyu's perfect, flawless, clean suit, and fei chengyu doesn't notice. he leaves, satisfied with your behavior, his favorite work, his heir, and disappears into his office.
when the door shuts you finally exhale - your shoulders collapse and you turn on your heel, unnatural, stiff, and then hurry to the study and shut the door behind you, shaking out your sweaty palms, your shaking hands, and rush to the drawer. you open it, and the kitten stares at you, affronted but otherwise perfectly, perfectly alive. you can't pick it up, but you hold out a fingertip to it, and it nuzzles against your hand, and you're shaking so hard you have to kneel down in front of the drawers.
this is it. it's your first rebellion. your first deception. the first time you ever successfully lied to fei chengyu, because no one on this earth is omnipotent, and even a demon could be tricked by his own self confidence. you've learned. you saved this kitten's life. it's alive, you saved it's life, and now, your eviction of the cat from the apartment isn't disposal, but a rescue mission.
years later, you find yourself standing in luo wenzhou's living room, in your pajamas, and a fat, familiar cat with too big eyes who has grown into his too big head stares at you. he's orange and white and a little black and he puffs up his tail to challenge you - and then skitters away to hide under the couch, and you find yourself marveling a little at how strange life can really be. ]
that's - fine. this is fine. fei du comes out of his own memory feeling like he's been hit by a truck. there's just a hurricane of his own emotions, even if his face doesn't show it, from the reminder of fei chengyu's trainings to defeating him to, at the end, an absolutely emotional gut punch over how much he misses luo wenzhou, how much he misses that stupid fucking cat whose life he saved all those years ago. he's still reeling from it and then the pig shows him d's memory, and that's -
a lot, too. that's a lot. fei du is holding his breath when it ends, caught up in the action of it all; he's seen a lot of magic and weird things in the past week, but there's so much familiar in d's memory that it makes him feel empathetic and makes his skin crawl, all at once.
he finally reacts, like he's not made of stone, with a short, sharp exhale. i only do this because i love you tastes like rot in the back of fei du's mouth.
He is...........in the pet shop, what a SHOCK. But he does curiously come out after a moment with the beeping. Ah. The rich playboy in his new toy. He's amused.
At the side of the car, he stops and bends so he can be level with the driver's window.]
[ for the record it looks like this. the window rolls down, and he leans on it, smiling with the smile of someone who is having a very good day. sometimes you're dead and you aren't even that sad about it until you start thinking about the existential guilt of leaving your significant other behind
[Well, well, well, if it isn’t the last thread ending poorly. WOW!!!!
Anyhow, he is searching for Fei Du because even though dying is not so bad if the living manage to pull shit off, he knows Fei Du is losing it regardless.
[ he's in his hotel room, actually! you can tell because walking down the hallway will net you a few deeply concerning things. the first is the awful, just fucking rancid sound of a stream of someone's thoughts.
they're definitely fei du's. it's his voice, but it's wrong - they sound staticked out and layered, jumbled together like a thousand things trying to happen all at once, enough that words are almost impossible to make out.
however a few things make it through the filter of the door, and it's mostly
No no no no no no no no no no no why no no no no not Wenzhou not Wenzhou no no it wasn't supposed to no no no no come on come on
[Hello, Matsui and Buzen made him a bloody mess, good luck, Fei Du.
Just kidding. He is washing the last bit off somehow, but there are spots he can't completely rid himself of on his clothes. HE'S TRYING HIS BEST, THOUGH. Why were they like this.]
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w0, fri
While Fei Du talks, D takes the opportunity to have a few bites of the cinnamon roll since he had such a huge conniption about it. It's held very gingerly with the tippy-tips of his fingers and nails. Sticky.
IT'S SO GOOD. It soothes the hurt of the McFlurry machine being broken.]
The business life didn't suit you then? Would you rather have done something else instead?
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the comment makes him make a thoughtful noise, though, as he munches on his own cinnamon roll, equally as careful not to get any sort of cinnamon on his hands. listen. he gets it. ]
Mmm... no, it suits me. I came into it - sort of a family business. I don't mind it too much. It's more like I just don't control as much of it as my forbearer did. He's not quite dead, you see, so there's little point in me taking the entire thing over, in case he returns.
[ what a thing to say ]
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Ah. I understand.
[Wow, haha… He is quiet for a moment, debating. He rests his wrist on the edge of the table in favor of having to lick his fingers.]
I manage a pet shop, but the business belongs to my grandfather.
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w0, mon
D is sitting in a prop tub full of clear, plastic balls like he's taking a bath. He's laughing? Oddly enough, it's a genuine laugh, but that isn't surprising when it's clear the reason he's laughing is because of T-chan.
The totetsu is in the tub with him! ...Biting away at one slender, pale arm, the flowy sleeve having come down.]
Ah, that tickles, T-chan.
[THE BITES ARE DRAWING A LITTLE BLOOD?]
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anyway here is a fei du making his way through this selfie room. when he looks over and sees this, he... will stay slightly at a distance for reasons unknown, but his mouth crooks up into an amused grin, anyway. ]
So this is the kind of person you are, D...?
[ why did you have to say it like that ]
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Why did Fei Du have to say it like that? But yes, this is the kind of person D is: a freak. It really doesn't seem to bother him at all that T-chan is gnawing so badly on his arm. These are...love bites. Yes. His other hand is petting T-chan's fur!]
This makes me nostalgic for the time you wanted to eat me...
[T-chan pauses suddenly and lifts his head to look in the direction of the doorway. Hmmm!]
What's wrong? [D is pulling the sleeve back into place.] Is someone there?
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w0 saturday
after all of that, fei du can be found innnn the ikea. he's sitting in a chair tucked away a bit, a green jacket slung around his shoulders, and most importantly, there's soft music playing from his phone that's sitting on his lap.
his eyes are closed, but, at least it doesn't look like he's asleep or anything! hello ]
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It's so funny, D is just gliding through Ikea toward the melodious sounds of Josh Groban's voice like a murder trial didn't just happen. T-chan is not with him funnily enough; it's only him. He stops in front of Fei Du, watching.]
It didn't look like you had a very good time there at the end, President Fei.
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by the time d gets close, the music has stopped - he pauses it when he feels someone coming close, and his eyes open, refocusing back on the person in front of him.
and, well. he huffs a little. ] I think the stress might've gotten to me. [ okay. very lightly teasing - ] Were you concerned...?
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w1, mon
Apparently, he likes the museum since he looks pretty delighted, though he does linger longer in front of anything animal related... I guess there can be giant megalodon bones.
He stands in front of it with the softest, fondest look in his eyes.]
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the museum is also one of fei du’s favorites of the new places! but there is something especially funny about seeing d just out here. staring at dead animals. help.
joking as he comes up to stand next to him: ] Don’t tell me you had one of these in your pet shop, now.
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No. It became extinct long before I would have been able to add it to my collection.
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w1 sat
wherever d's at in the park, eventually, he's going to have company! more specifically, it's fei du; he's got the lord and master lord yiguo's paws slung over his shoulder and is holding him, because he's knocked the fuck out, spoiled. ]
... D. [ calling out. ] There you are.
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Hello, Mr. Fei. And handsome Young Master Yiguo.
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A penny for your thoughts?
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w4, sunday
hey we're hanging out because of course we are! TWO OF THEM! REUNITED! and as d and fei du are vibing
one of these goddamn pigs shows up! and it shows this! ]
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He will react to this in a moment, right now he is also shoving a memory over to Fei Du's mind palace.
Very funny, I am giving you another one instead for right this minute. Enjoy.]
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that's - fine. this is fine. fei du comes out of his own memory feeling like he's been hit by a truck. there's just a hurricane of his own emotions, even if his face doesn't show it, from the reminder of fei chengyu's trainings to defeating him to, at the end, an absolutely emotional gut punch over how much he misses luo wenzhou, how much he misses that stupid fucking cat whose life he saved all those years ago. he's still reeling from it and then the pig shows him d's memory, and that's -
a lot, too. that's a lot. fei du is holding his breath when it ends, caught up in the action of it all; he's seen a lot of magic and weird things in the past week, but there's so much familiar in d's memory that it makes him feel empathetic and makes his skin crawl, all at once.
he finally reacts, like he's not made of stone, with a short, sharp exhale. i only do this because i love you tastes like rot in the back of fei du's mouth.
... ]
Those pigs are really troublesome.
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1/2... finally
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w5 tuesday
at some point wherever d's hanging out, there's the distinct sound of a car horn that beeps twice from outside. beep beep! ]
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He is...........in the pet shop, what a SHOCK. But he does curiously come out after a moment with the beeping. Ah. The rich playboy in his new toy. He's amused.
At the side of the car, he stops and bends so he can be level with the driver's window.]
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anyway look at his fiskar isn't it sexy ]
Hello. [ uwu ] Do you want to go for a ride?
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w6, fri
Anyhow, he is searching for Fei Du because even though dying is not so bad if the living manage to pull shit off, he knows Fei Du is losing it regardless.
WHERE ARE U HIDING, FEI DU??? Your car?!]
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they're definitely fei du's. it's his voice, but it's wrong - they sound staticked out and layered, jumbled together like a thousand things trying to happen all at once, enough that words are almost impossible to make out.
however a few things make it through the filter of the door, and it's mostly
No no no no no no no no no no no why no no no no not Wenzhou not Wenzhou no no it wasn't supposed to no no no no come on come on
and then
a violently loud crack of electricity
that's probably concerning ]
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w7, sat
Just kidding. He is washing the last bit off somehow, but there are spots he can't completely rid himself of on his clothes. HE'S TRYING HIS BEST, THOUGH. Why were they like this.]
...Ah, Mr. Fei. Sorry.
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fei du is going to just
step back from d and cover his nose..... ]
We need a drycleaner.
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