[ it's late. very, very late. there aren't a lot of 24 hour pharmacies in this city - there especially aren't any on the side of town where therion holes up and rests, and especially not in the place where therion just got stabbed - at least not that close by.
it's not like this is an unusual occurrence - therion has been stabbed many, many times in his life - but it is something that needs to be taken care of as fast as possible before he bleeds to death. that's the trick with a stomach injury, because of fucking course it's in his stomach, and of course it's not in a spot he can really stitch together by himself with catgut and a needle in his shitty, tiny apartment he kind of lives in. go figure he didn't bring his bandages, and he got stabbed. whatever! it's fine.
he's staggered his way down the streets, listening to the chirp of google maps on his burner phone, and made it, stubbornly, four blocks away from the ditch he was left to die in, and into the glowy haven of a 24 hour pharmacy. the door opens perfectly silently in the dead of the night, and though it is fucking bright in here, the cold white lighting feels like a balm of some kind of relief. teeth gritted, he slinks to the side and out of the way of a line of sight, and starts to make his way towards the bandages.
from a distance, he just looks like another customer. big purple hoodie, hood pulled up over his head. his arm's underneath his sweatshirt and holding pressure tightly against the bleeding, wet wound in his gut, as subtle as he can physically make it as he gets to the counter. he needs pain spray, butterfly bandages, regular bandages. just enough to get by until he can stitch himself up properly (if you can call it that.) just enough to survive. stubbornly, he takes the items from the rack. one. two. three.
and normally, he'd be unnoticeable. in and out, healthcare in hand. he's stolen from a thousand different pharmacies, a thousand different times. but he has to stop, standing in front of the rack, and takes in a slow, deep breath, eyes squinted shut, and fiercely berates himself internally - don't you fucking fall over. don't you fucking fall over. take what you need and get out.
it does mean he looks like a particularly shifty character in your medical care aisle...but its probably fine? was he there before? ]
[ the thing about this particular pharmacy is that, being the nature of a twenty-four hour business in the less than sparkling side of town, most of the pharmacists are pretty hardened folk. with his background, jiaoqiu's supervisor almost immediately assigned him to work the overnight shift. no way will people mess with you, they'd said. jiaoqiu supposes he can take it as a compliment.
he's filling out prescriptions when he hears the beep of the front sliding doors. his ear flicks, but he mostly ignores it. not his problem, it's the cashier's problem. as long as hanya hasn't fallen asleep at the front counter, he doesn't have to bother leaving his little enclosure. but - there's something that gets his attention, tonight. whatever it is, he follows his instincts, looking up.
the guy in purple isn't really all that more suspicious than most customers who come through here at ass AM. but... there's something about the way he's holding himself. it makes the old, deep scars across his shoulder and torso start to ache, fiercely. absently, he presses his hand to his chest, dragging in a stuttering breath. hm. ow.
if therion looks over towards the pharmacy window, he'll see a pair of gold eyes watching him. ]
[ deep breath in. deep breath out. the world fuzzing around him starts to come back into focus as he forces himself to stay steady on his feet - stubbornly, stubbornly, he's not going to die here. not on the shitty floor of a shitty pharmacy, not because some fucking goons decided to attack him because they were mad they lost out on a mark. not here.
his arm tightens against his stomach, and he grabs onto the roll of bandages, the last thing he needs. disinfectant, bandages, butterfly bandages. good enough for him to stagger out to an alley and take care of himself. he glances off to the cashier, a sleepy looking woman who hasn't appeared to notice him. good.
on another night, therion would notice he was being stared at- even now, he feels it distantly, something making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. but he's so focused on not passing out and stealing the goods he's slipped into his pocket that he doesn't have the wherewithal to check the pharmacy window. and once he's sure the clerk is not paying attention, he slinks, slowly, away from his hiding spot. slower than usual, less stealthy than usual.
for a good portion of it, he doesn't get up out of bed. he wakes up, and goes back to sleep, but it's restless, and eventually the rain on the window gets too insistent. it's all he can focus on. so he sits up, and he opens his soft gold eyes and he stares out the window, into the pouring rain. it's like they're calling. so he answers it. he stands. he moves, he gets dressed, and he doesn't really pay attention to how long it takes him. maybe an hour? maybe less. he doesn't have any clocks in his house, and even if he did he wouldn't hear them.
he doesn't have much to bring them. sake, for her. a tupperware of noodles, mild, for him. he rests them carefully on the headstones, and he sits down between them, and doesn't care if he gets mud anywhere. he's soaked in seconds, his fur thick and matted, ears pressed down against the rain.
nothing much to say, either. he opens his mouth to try, a few times, but nothing comes out. so instead he sits, in silence, for hours. in this cemetery, in the cold, watching the moisture get trapped in the tupperware container, watching raindrops slide down the bottle. time doesn't really have much meaning out here. but what really does, he thinks? and then he laughs quietly to himself.
[ for therion, it's just a normal day. a wet one, but a normal day nonetheless. his days tend to blur together when he stays in a place for a while, the passage of time marked only by the hours of sleep he snatches restless and on guard in his little kind of home. therion is, by nature, a wanderer, and his explorations through the city he's only recently come to call a sort of home, often lead him looping down similar paths.
one of those paths leads him through a graveyard. and on this normal, chilly, wet day, he spots something unusual - a bright flash of pink in the middle of all of that gray. a familiar flash of pink. is that... the doctor?
he's not going to pry, not really. therion doesn't have ghosts or people to mourn - he's not a heathen, he doesn't pickpocket people in the graveyard - so he heads down a path and ignores it the first time, off to run his errands. an hour later, however, when he comes back across the path, jiaoqiu is still there.
and three hours later, when he's run through the rich quarter of town and jiaoqiu is still there, he turns in a different direction entirely.
there's something so - lonely, about it. and while grief isn't familiar, loneliness is, in a clawing, aching way that he'd never, ever admit to. therion doesn't think like that. what he tells himself is that he's pretty sure he's going to catch his death, and it's a pain in the ass, and what kind of idiot sits out in the rain for hours at a time, and that's how he finds himself coming back with an umbrella over his head, his hoodie pulled up high, and stops to stand behind jiaoqiu soundlessly.
the rain over jiaoqiu stops, all of a sudden, replace with the soft sound of pattering over stretched canvas on an umbrella, and a voice breaks through. ]
You really gonna make me tell you you're going to catch your death out here?
[ his tone is resigned in the way therion has to be resigned, in the way he grouses, as he looks down at jiaoqiu. he's caught shades of this side of him, here and there, in the short time that they've known each other, and glancing at the gravestones, he can put the pieces together, but he saves jiaoqiu the question of "what the hell do you think you're doing". he doens't have much experience with grief. it doesn't mean he doesn't know what it looks like. ]
[ the gravestones are meticulously kept, very clean, the carvings clear.
feixiao, moze. same day death dates. a while back - years ago, but not far enough for it to be a memory.
at first, he doesn't even notice the fact that he's no longer getting rained on. there's no sound, there's no sensation, just the slow, steady drip of condensation down the side of the glass bottle to the dirt below. he can't drag his eyes away from it. everything else around him is blurred out, unimportant. just the stark, unmoving stone in front of him. he wonders, if he puts his hand out and touched the stone, would it burn? would it be cold? would it feel like anything at all? is that because of the cold numbing his skin, or is it because his body no longer exists? does it even matter?
and then there's a voice, and he blinks. his eyes hurt. he'd probably been staring for way too long. the sound of the rain is suddenly very, harshly loud in his ears, the patter against the umbrella distorted. his ear flicks.
jiaoqiu looks up, and is very, very surprised to see therion, of all people. is it actually him? why would he be here? a beat. ]
[ it's been about a week and a half since the last time therion made his way into the city where jiaoqiu lives. his lifestyle requires him to be kind of transient, a free spirit who never really sets down his roots - it's part of what's made the legend behind his name safe, that he's a whisper in an alley and then he's gone, as opposed to a local fixture. when you're a thief, it's easy to disappear.
but the thing is, this week, therion caught wind of some hoity toity shipment coming into a wealthy family in the closest port time, carrying rare goods. it's not abnormal for him to swipe something off the top of a shipment like this, but today's came with a box of unique spices from halfway across the continent, and some rare produce to match - the kind that's nigh unattainable in the wintertime, and. well.
whatever. so he stole some of it. not a lot - a couple bundles of unground spices, a few pieces of produce - and then disappeared. and that's how he's found himself back at one of his normal haunts, back to the sprawling main city, and back to a little apartment on the fourth floor of a building on a less than wonderful part of town. it's not his apartment. no, no. no, he's just here to be a glorified delivery boy.
at least, that's what therion tells himself as he scales the fire escape. silent as a little mouse, up three floors, then the fourth, to a window that he's picked the lock on a thousand times. he's just dropping this shit off and leaving. if he thinks for even a second about what he's doing, he's going to get so embarrassed and mad at himself that he's going to throw himself off the building. why did he even think about getting this stuff? why did he even care? why did he leave behind a perfectly good score for some fucking vegetables. goddammit.
whatever. he's in through the window as he's grousing internally, dead silent as he pulls the window shut, avoids the creaky floorboard that he knows, and pads silently across jiaoqiu's apartment to open the door to his fridge, spilling light across the floor so he can put this shit away and then run like hell. it's fine! it's whatever! it's cool! ]
[ time passes. it's slow and fast all at once, and whenever therion is not in town, it's the same. wake up. wander to work. come home, make dinner. go to sleep. there's really nothing else for him to do, which is life as usual. this is the way he's lived for a very long time, and he doesn't expect it to change.
still. it's nice, when it isn't that. when the days don't pass like he doesn't see them at all. he still leaves apples in his fridge, just in case.
jiaoqiu is a light sleeper. it was a habit he picked up during his time as a military healer, having to get up and go without warning. and besides that, he pretty often has nightmares, so it's not unusual for him to just never reach deep sleep at all. his hearing and sense of smell are excellent, and he's sensitive to the changes in his apartment - so therion is dead silent, but all it takes is the difference in air pressure as the fridge opens in the other room, and jiaoqiu's ear flicks as he wakes.
at first, he thinks he's being robbed. that's funny, to him. there's nothing worth stealing in his apartment. but then he catches the smell of something spicy, and a much more familiar scent. therion. he knows that anywhere, the creased leather, earthy, something warm like a campfire. and when he realizes, he sits up in his bed, and pushes the covers away.
it's quiet enough in his apartment that therion will likely hear the door to jiaoqiu's bedroom open, and see jiaoqiu in just a long shirt and no pants, tail swishing lightly behind him, peering at him with softly glowing gold eyes in the dark.
he hears it as he’s trying to figure out where the hell to put the produce - jiaoqiu’s fridge is vast compared to anything he’s ever had, and he’s trying to be sneaky- and the minuscule sound of the door opening sends him straightening up like an alert cat. if he had fur, it would all be standing on end as he freezes, still halfway in the fridge.
and - it’s not to say that he panics. he does not panic. he is a seasoned thief who has wriggled out of many situations, he does not panic, but he immediately freezes, holding incredibly still as he is faced with the reality of his choices that have led him to this moment. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He could just lie and gaslight him into thinking it’s a dream. he could just say he’s here to steal food and leave. But the thing is, he is still holding a stupid bunch of leafy greens, clearly visible in one hand.
There’s a long moment of silence. He slowly turns his head to look.
[ and so, life moves on. therion never stays for more than a few days at a time, but he does stay. when he leaves, its for his own safety, to keep himself from staying longer than he should, and sometimes for just the need to get out. after a few weeks of that, he buys a burner phone and leaves a note with the phone number on jiaoqiu's nightstand when he's planning on skipping town for a while, and he makes himself more accessible than he has in the past, bit by tiny bit. the weeks blur into a few more months, into time passing, and therion steps in and out of his life in a manner that is almost routine, three or four nights a week as opposed to once every two weeks at best. and though there is never a single moment as close to what could have been a confession ever again, he doesn't stop coming around. what was a perceived rejection was enough to spook him, but not so far away that he runs for good. somehow, more guarded but less, all at once. he sneaks into his bed in broad daylight, even lets jiaoqiu fuss over him when he catches a stupid cold (though admittedly, he has to nearly pass out on his doorstep before he admits that he's ill, but that's a therion problem).
it takes time, but the built trust is steadier than it was before.
it's one of those weeks where he's been gone - responding to texts, but otherwise out halfway across the continent, taking time out by the sea just because he can. he sends pictures, occasionally - they're not the best quality, but they're there. sunrises over the ocean. a weird vegetable with a single "?". a stray cat on the side of the road. and by the time he's made his way back to the city, there's a little magnet pull in his chest that tells him to go -- to go home, which is such a fucking scary concept, but he lets it stay subconscious and lets his feet carry him, late night, to the pharmacy. he likes to wander in here, here and there. it's funny, to smile charmingly at the night guard and pretend that he's not the absolute nightmare of a person that he is, and get her tongue wagging when he walks jiaoqiu home. that's what's on his mind as he makes his way through the automatic doors, and then he looks towards the counter.
standing there is a figure he hasn't seen in years. orange hair, slicked back. leather jacket, leaning on the counter and talking casually to jiaoqiu. smile on his face. he's roguish and good at banter - he talks like an insane person, with his stupid fucking slang that therion would recognize from a mile away - and seeing darius in this fucking pharmacy is like taking a bat to a pane of glass, and therion freezes in the doorway, and just. he just stares. his tongue feels like it's made of cotton, feet made of lead, single green eye wide.
darius, of course, is oblivious to this. he's making a legitimate purchase - picking up some prescribed scar cream, something completely unthreatening, completely mundane. Got take care of the ol' stunner if I wanna settle down in this town, eh? with a teasing gesture to his face, to the scar across his nose. going to the doctor. existing.
therion's first instinct is to fucking run. but the thought that he could be trying to rob the store sticks, steal from the store just like therion did, and he squares his shoulders in the doorway even though he's - terrified? angry? bad, awful, everything feels awful, he thinks about how little jiaoqiu cares about his own fucking life and he sucks in a breath and he doesn't move, staring at him, at both of them from the front of the store like a hawk. ]
Edited (THE REST OF MY SENTENCE) 2024-10-16 15:05 (UTC)
[ it's almost unsteady, the time passing. jiaoqiu can't quite figure out if he needs to sink or not - therion is more regularly around, he lets him be close, but there's still an amount of distance that makes jiaoqiu feel like he broke something. here and there, over the time that passes, the void gets especially bad, and he loses days at a time, only really waking up halfway through therion's visits. he knows it scares him, and he tries not to, but there's only so much he can do, some days.
still - therion is here. he texts, and jiaoqiu texts back. replies to sunrises with a colorful variety of poems, identifies vegetables, sends pictures of his own - the sunlight peeking through his window in the bedroom, a running shower, a meal he's particularly proud of. there is never time where he can't be pulled out of the void, even sometimes it takes a minute. he takes care of therion when he's sick or injured, he yanks him to bed, he makes him food, and does not talk about his past again. it's not bad. he likes it. he looks forward to whenever he gets home and there's a thief in his bed, and he keeps his phone close at all times. his heart aches when he thinks too much about it. sushang teases him about it, a little - when's your boyfriend coming back around, huh? and he doesn't ever answer.
and then it's now. therion's been somewhere with the ocean, and he's been enjoying the pictures he gets. but it's the middle of his shift, and there's a customer, so. he leaves his phone on the desk, and goes to chat.
this guy is... charming. or rather, he thinks he is. and jiaoqiu can imagine a lot of people are probably into what this guy is selling, but there's something about him that makes his fur stand on end. not in fear, though. his usual placid smile is in place, and therion can see it where he's standing - there's a decidedly annoyed tinge to the way his ears are positioned, something that a stranger would never notice.
the scar in particular, funnily enough, makes him think of therion. ]
New here, hm? [ he says idly, as he checks over the cream. ] Well. This should help.
[ pushes the cream over the counter with that same smile. ]
[ and so, in the dead of the night after a week or so of recovery and quiet, it's time to leave the city. by the end of the week, therion is practically climbing the walls to get out, but the borisin gang leaves them alone, and when he's feeling better before jiaoqiu, he canvasses the entire city to find the fastest, safest route out, and when the time feels right, he makes the proper arrangements. he even begrudgingly thanks lingsha for her help, though it's mostly awkward because he's really bad at that, and then skitters off into the darkness.
jiaoqiu is much harder to hide than therion is, considering his... everything, so therion's usual escape plan's not as simple as he wants it to be. moving around another person is strange, but he minds it less than he thought he originally would - he hotwires a shitty little car from a repossession lot, and off they go.
sunshade is a few hours drive away. it's plenty of time to spend with someone else, but it's...nice, too. squabbling over the radio, stopping for snacks at strange gas stations, and weaving through traffic with the windows down and the stars overhead, the trip is shorter than any time he's ever taken by himself, a fact that therion simply will not consider for too long or he might explode.
as he pulls the car into a place to park late at night and leaves it there - if it's stolen, he truly does not care, it seems like sunshade is hopping. this place bustles at night, with the oppressive heat of the windswept desert replaced with outdoor heaters and comfortable darkness. the stars are massive overhead, and the hustle and bustle and most importantly, the fact that they are very far away from that main city, helps to put therion slightly (slightly) at ease. they're in the territory of a friend, anyway, if you could call her that. therion has told jiaoqiu nothing of her, or the fact that they're even meeting someone, though whether that's on purpose or accident is anyone's guess.
he glances over his shoulder to jiaoqiu once they're out of the car, and shrugs his shoulders, pulling his hood down and shaking out his hair. things are a little safer, here. and being out in the open air is just how he likes it - he can breathe. ]
[ lingsha is a good doctor - she is a mean doctor, and she is not afraid of jiaoqiu or therion. she bullies them relentlessly into behaving, but. true to her word, nobody bothers them for the week. she works hard on mending jiaoqiu's leg with cloudhymn magic so that he can move, and by the end of the week, allows him to cook dinner. when she is satisfied that he's not overworking himself doing that much, she gives them the go ahead to leave. promises she'll let sushang know that jiaoqiu is leaving, though not where, and that he'll contact her soon.
and then they're off! the trip there is just a little bit more of recovery time - it's nice to be outside, and even when he's not bickering back and forth with therion, he's happy to rest against the seat and stare out at the stars, humming softly along to the radio. off tune, but hey. the point is, he enjoys the journey, and he enjoys being with therion. he's far less likely to explode if he admits it to himself.
sunshade is a fascinating place. jiaoqiu climbs out of the car, only a little stiff, his leg complaining at him. and then he adjusts his clothes, and follows after therion easily enough, hands folded behind his back.
it's nearly two weeks of being fully awake. it's weird. not bad. just strange, to really see the world around him. absently, he reaches out to touch therion's back - something that's become a little bit of a grounding thing for him, just a brief slide of his fingers down therion's spine to remind himself where he is, and then he's okay.
he doesn't bother hiding his ears or tail. he's bright pink, he can't lay low. ]
[ they decide, after a while, that sunshade is a nicer place to live.
the city they'd previously been in - we're gonna go with it being new londinium except the au version where it's more habitable and you can travel around without an air purifier, so like, the blade runner city it's fine - isn't all that great of a place. it's dark, controlled by the ipc for the most part, and the part that jiaoqiu lived in wasn't exactly high class. he has no connection to it, just was given a place to work by the military company that dismissed him after feixiao and moze's death. he doesn't miss it. he misses sushang, sometimes, but mostly? he is glad to be somewhere new.
sunshade is nicer. it's hot here, but it's lively. the people are fascinating, and the colors are bright and vibrant, and the air feels better to breathe. primrose is a wonderful woman and jiaoqiu adores her, and so when it gets to be that therion is itchy to leave, jiaoqiu tells him to go. he can stay here, do some healing work for her. cook, too, if she needs it. it's a lot more difficult for him to void out in this place, and he's been trying really, really hard to keep that streak going.
just come back, he tells therion. i'll wait for you is implied.
he hangs out around sunshade for a while. a couple of weeks on his own is nothing, he's spent most of his life alone now. primrose is good company, and so are the other frequenters of the bar. boothill gets on his nerves, but he doesn't mind him as much when robin is around. she tends to balance out the worst of his rowdiness, and it makes for some very entertaining evenings, especially when rappa comes along with and starts trying to get people to do various ninja handsigns.
his favorite, however, is acheron. a quiet, thoughtful woman who has a similar view on life as he does. there's a melancholy to her that he wishes he could ease, sometimes, but she assures him it isn't fixable, and buys him another drink. they have a couple of very good conversations late into the night, even after primrose has started shutting down the tavern and shooing out the last couple of customers.
the point is - jiaoqiu does okay. he exists just fine from the day to day while therion is away, and his life is busy enough that the void doesn't get to him too badly. but he does miss him, and that's starting to build. one night, boothill coaxes him into having a drink, and that drink turns into another and another, and eventually, he stands up and nearly falls over because what he was drinking turned out to be waaay stronger than him. the thought occurs to him that he wants to go to bed, and he wants to curl up with therion, but... therion isn't here. he mumbles that into his arm, and boothill gives him a raised eyebrow before going, alright, buddy, think it's time for you to head on up to sleep, before you start telling me secrets you don't want no one hearing.
so, up he goes, to the room he was sharing with therion. he crawls into the bed, and he noses at the pillows, and is actually upset when he realizes he can't smell therion in them, anymore.
which is why therion gets a text message at three am: ]
[ it's something that has gone unspoken for some time, and something that was put out in no less plain terms as the ultimate decision to head to sunshade was made - therion does not do well remaining in one place for long periods of time.
part of it is his "job", if you can call it that. a career thief cannot stay in one place for too long, or people start to get suspicious. the old city had so many nooks and crannies he could hide out there for weeks, before the borisin thing happened. (before darius happened.) not that that really bothered him - it didn't feel like a loss of a home - because, well. the only thing he wanted from that city found its way out with him.
it's something therion's gotten - if not used to, it's something that he's settled into, bit by little bit. it started off back in the city, with a cellphone that he actually used, bought solely to communicate with jiaoqiu, and it's come to this, where he knows he has a home base, for now. he knows there's someone to come home to, because that someone is the closest thing he's ever had to a home. and, beyond that, he knows that jiaoqiu's safe, in sunshade. he's with primrose, who saw right through therion the first day he showed up there, who took jiaoqiu into her fold without any question. she was thrilled to have a proper doctor around, and picked up learning tips and tricks from jiaoqiu here and there - with that, and the spicy food occasionally on special now at the tavern, he's a more than welcome addition to the fray.
as for therion, he communicates on and off while he's gone, just like they used to, and the combination of being free and being settled all at once soothes something in his soul. he spends his wandering time stealing, picking pockets and taking treasures, travels out to the tiny town of bolderfall to see one of the only other connections he's ever allowed himself to have.
"You look happier, Mr. Therion." cordelia had said to him, with a smile on her face, when he showed up to see if the ravuses had any work for him - it embarrassed the hell out of him, and he put up all his walls and snapped about it, but cordelia's never been afraid of him, and unfortunately, he's probably softer for her than any other person in this world. except, well.
... needless to say, jiaoqiu is on his mind. he's on a train, heading back in sunshade's relative direction - though he may hit somewhere else before he returns, he hasn't decided, when at three in the morning, his phone buzzes in his pocket. he glances down at it. squints at the screen.
one new text. three am? why is he awake. it's not like the graveyard shift at the pharmacy, anymore... therion's nose wrinkles, and traitorously, he feels a little warmth, and then embarrassment at himself for feeling that way over a typo ridden text message. hello.
there's a couple minutes of nothing. but eventually... ]
[ as the days pass in sunshade, things reach a state of general normalcy. therion's in and out, as always, but he's been in town for the better part of a week - more specifically, he's been keeping an eye on a competitive business that's opened up in town. another tavern, run by someone else, full of beautiful dancers, taking regulars out of primrose's tavern. while competition is never an issue - 'The wandering eyes always do return', she had said, faithful and sounding frankly bored at the concept - the business practices of the other tavern are. there's a little worry that the owner might be running it far too similarly to helgenish used to, corruption and disgusting practices and all.
so, primrose asks therion when he's in town to take a look around. nothing particularly fancy. she'd do it herself, frankly, but it wouldn't look good if she were caught, and if you need someone for subterfuge, then, well. who better to ask than therion? and this completely pointed pander to his ego works completely. and as he was on his way out the door, primrose stopped him, and informed him she needed him to gather information, and there was nothing easier to do so than hiding in plain sight. therion scoffed at the idea - he knows, primrose, he knows how to infiltrate - and she had smiled at him with this evil look on her face.
jiaoqiu might have heard the sound of his refusals from the tavern kitchen, though banter's not that unusual and his hissing, spitting cat routine is a part of even the friendliest conversation, and despite all of his squawking, primrose delivered the coup de grace with a challenge.
she returns back to the tavern and leans on the doorframe of the kitchen - in the background, there's the sight of something purple vanishing with a glimmer of gold on the edge, but no way to really follow it as she says, "Jiaoqiu. You've been working hard lately. After service, why don't you take the night off? I can clean up after you when you're done."
and with that handled, with a slight curve to her smile, she goes off to do primrose things! mysterious.
in the meantime, therion's gone for a few hours. by the time he heads back for the tavern, he's got what primrose wanted and he did so silently and without getting caught, so suck on that, and he's going to drop off the information, and then just head straight upstairs and back to the room to get out of. this. ]
[ jiaoqiu did, in fact, hear the refusals, but he waved them off. therion and primrose bicker like this all the time and he is not concerned. he knows what therion and primrose sound like when they're actually upset, by this point. still, he makes a note to ask later, because he's nosy, and goes back to making dinner.
and when primrose comes to talk to him, he tilts his head, ear flicking. oh. huh. well, okay. he doesn't argue, but that does sort of leave him with a whole night free. he isn't entirely sure what to do with himself! which is sort of sad, but it's fine. he probably has a book or two that he can distract himself with. so - he grabs some wine, because why not, and after service, he wanders up to their room to just chill out.
he imagines therion will probably be back soon. maybe he can convince him to go out to the night market or something.
except, like. therion comes into the room, and jiaoqiu starts to say something - it's not important, just like, hello, welcome home - and then he looks up and sees therion in this outfit, and stops dead.
[ by now, it's not by any means a secret that both therion and jiaoqiu have issues, but sometimes, therion's turn out to be particularly relevant - and particularly ugly. and the thing about it that's most important is that it's not jiaoqiu's fault.
because it's not, not really. a sane and normal person would probably feel differently, or act differently than therion has recently. it's been months, now - the incident with hoolay is long behind them, and for the most part, things have been good. transient as he may be, he's made his way back to jiaoqiu. quietly, he shows his affection, learns to cope with the feeling of handing over his precious trust, bit by bit.
but lately, things have been off. it's a twitchy feeling somewhere in the back of his neck. sore old bones - it never rains in sunshade, but he takes jiaoqiu with him to a greener city along the train line and it pours, and it makes his bones ache with the weight of old injuries, with bitter nostalgia. it's looking at this good thing he has and wondering how it might break, thoughts that become more and more intrusive by the day. he steals things recklessly. sees a wanted poster with his own face on it when he hops to belobog, and in another town in northreach back here, not unusual but no less of a reminder. it's discordant, sometimes, to disappear into the shadiest parts of places unknown and return back to sunshade like he's some kind of normal person, someone with a life, as opposed to what he is. he watches jiaoqiu blossom in the desert sun and wonders how long it's going to be until therion ruins it somehow - or worse, until jiaoqiu realizes that he's not worth the attention or time he's really been given, that he's something or someone to be used. a lockpick. a stepping stone. hardly a person.
therion's barely aware of the rapidly downward spiral he's sliding down, and though he's kept it to himself for the most part, today, there's a catalyst. one of the workers at the tavern had been chattering with jiaoqiu about a cute new area of town when therion came in from his daily walkabouts, pockets a little heavier and footsteps light. he stops for a while to listen to the conversation, keeping a safe, undetectable distance, and eventually, he makes his way over to join him, greeting jiaoqiu and whoever he's talking to with a sup nod and not much else as he sits down and orders a drink. ]
[ when therion goes out next, jiaoqiu asks to go with him - because he wants to go somewhere, for the first time in a long time. it's spur of the moment, and he tells therion that it's fine if he'd rather not take him along, because jiaoqiu knows that therion likes his space, likes the freedom. he's always worried about being an anchor - which both of them are aware of, by now. but they both go, and for the first time in a long time, jiaoqiu feels... sort of normal. like he could be normal. like he could enjoy life for what it is.
it worries him, sometimes, to think that therion might not feel the same. that therion could, at any moment, decide that he doesn't want the dead weight. he wonders if the only reason they're still a thing is because jiaoqiu knows about the tavern in sunshade - that it'd be too hard to get rid of him now, because of primrose. most times he can put that away, because therion seems happy with what they have, despite all his grumbling, but. it lingers.
today, he's nursing his own drink as he talks with one of the workers. he's been thinking about this recently - primrose tells him she doesn't mind letting him live in therion's room, and he believes her, but it might be nice to have a place to himself. he misses his little apartment, sometimes. he gave up the lease to it a month or two back, but didn't tell therion. and the thing is, he doesn't notice therion listening when he offhandedly mentions that he gave up his old apartment to the tavern worker - doesn't mention, either, that he didn't tell therion because he wasn't sure how he'd react to the idea of jiaoqiu giving up his old life entirely. it's just that sunshade feels a little better. warmer, he says, kind of a joke.
the new area of town is relatively inexpensive, hoping to coax in new life, and jiaoqiu is... considering it.
when therion slips into the seat next to him, his tail waves gently behind him, as usual. ]
Hello. [ he says, affection in his tone. ] Not too horribly sunburned?
when they get back to sunshade, jiaoqiu busies himself immediately. he sets therion up to recover in their room at primrose's place, insists he stays put for at least a week, and makes sure that he doesn't make himself sick. the houses out in that new neighborhood are now open, so jiaoqiu pulls together his savings, and buys a small one at the edge of town. for now, it's mostly empty, but... it's there, for both of them. they can make their way to it eventually. jiaoqiu is hesitant to mention it, even after everything, because he doesn't want to stress therion out while he's healing.
what he eventually says is he bought himself a place, and therion is welcome to live there with him if he wants, but he doesn't have to. and then he doesn't bring it up again, because he gets distracted by the fact that the anniversary of his general's death is coming.
it snuck up on him. jiaoqiu is almost startled, when he looks at the date and realizes how close it is. there's a lot of emotions that go through him at once, from panic to melancholy to something distant and overwhelmingly blank. he isn't close enough to walk to the graveyard, for the first time in years. he doesn't know what to do about it. and therion still is recovering, and he doesn't want to force him on a train, and - well, he almost doesn't want therion to see him at all, that day. it's been a long time since he's sunken down into the nihility, and that's strange to think about. he doesn't even know if it'll be that way now. he doesn't know if it'll get a grasp on him, after how much better he's been doing lately.
but he can't skip it. it'd feel wrong to not visit them. so.
it's a day or two before the anniversary date, and jiaoqiu settles down next to therion, wherever they are. hands him a snack - some riceballs. ]
... How are you feeling, today? [ he starts, head tilting. ]
[ it's a little strange to feel relieved to be coming home.
home, as jiaoqiu had called it, and therion had agreed. not begrudgingly, but allowed himself to, allowed himself to fall and be caught, just like jiaoqiu had asked, and allowed himself to trust. it's ended with him here, back in sunshade, alive as opposed to dead in a ditch, and currently considering the concept of living in a house with someone else. of using the front door, so to speak.
he doesn't get to do much considering of it, though. recovering from his injuries led to trouble, and therion, being therion, he acted like he was fine too quickly, until he passed out on jiaoqiu with a very, very high fever when they were just out for what was supposed to be a relaxing walk. the sickness took him out, and he sleeps more than he ever really has over the week or so when they return, not even putting up a fuss about being in one place because his body seems to recognize that he is in fact somewhere finally safe. it's probably a little scary to see, but it means he's recovering, so... maybe it's for the better.
either way, a week passes. the home mention felt like a fever dream - jiaoqiu doesn't bring it up again, and that's fine, though it recurs here in there in strange dreams. dreams of houses, cozy places, warmth he can't ever hold for long, kitchens full of spices. he dreams about a christmas tree. he also dreams about opening a door in the house and tumbling off the side of a cliff, again and again. it's a long, strange week.
but he's at the point now where he thinks he's fine. the fever's mostly cleared, and his head...hurts... still, but it's manageable, and he's about ready to crawl out of his skin and leave to do something from being fussed over. when jiaoqiu comes to find him today, therion's completely unaware of whatever he's thinking about - instead, he's just sitting on the bed, blankets over his lap, and picking dirt out from under his nails with his switchblade. there's a bottle of black nail polish sitting next to him, unopened, and that seems to be the intent for the current hour so he doesn't like, crawl out of the window. he does feel guilty for worrying jiaoqiu so badly, so he's trying (?) to behave himself at least a little.
when he's addressed, he glances up from what he's doing, glances down at the riceball snack, and shrugs. ]
Bored. [ well okay he's trying to behave but his attitude is no less surly than usual. he is so bored. ] Are you gonna believe me when I say fine this time...?
[ it's a calm evening not in sunshade, but somewhere else - a place called sufrataljah on the way back home along the train line. famous for its white sands, pretty architecture, tongue scorchingly hot food, and more recently, rumors of a quack doctor that needs to be chased out of town. it's not an infrequent haunt for therion, who sidesteps around the shadier areas of town and pickpockets the filthy rich folk who flutter around the palace away from the main streets. therion wouldn't normally concern himself with running someone out of town - if poor street folk get scammed, maybe they'll learn not to get scammed a second time, in his less than kind opinion - so he pays no mind to it.
still, because he's therion, despite huffing and grumbling about it, despite harshness, he listens. picks up on information quietly and feeds it to jiaoqiu when they're sitting in a tavern bar - a spy and a strategist do in fact make a good pair. according to the locals, the quack doctor is a con artist who has been selling snake oil to violently ill citizens. the symptoms of the sickness are akin to a poisoning. the doctor's tall and dresses well, and frequents a tavern in the wealthiest parts of town.
therion drums his fingers on the bar where he's sitting, untouched beer in front of him, his sharp-eyed gaze focused on jiaoqiu. on the shift in this trip, from tourism to something fiercer. it'd be impossible to miss it.
...honestly, it's kind of attractive? the thought pings somewhere in his subconscious, but he ignores it, for now, delivering the last bit of information he gathered as nonchalant as can be. supposedly, the doctor's medicine fixes people then makes them sicker, so they're forced to cough up the cash for another remedy, and perpetuating the cycle anew. ]
Con artists. [ therion says, dryly, as if he is not also kind of a con artist, but it's different. ] That's about it.
[ the second jiaoqiu catches wind of this, something in him switches up. therion's seen him pretty consistently as a healer with gentle hands and a warm bedside manner. it's more important to him to take care of the sick and hungry than it is anything else - years ago, a general had once said that unlike ordinary healers, jiaoqiu did not focus on just one patient, but focused instead on curing all of the xianzhou. his scope has never been small.
they were here originally just to taste the cuisine, to explore, let therion get his fill of picking pockets and being away from home, and jiaoqiu has always been happy to just let that happen. but now, he's heard about a tall man in nice clothing taking advantage of the weak and sick, and it shifts his demeanor from something casual and sleepy to something far more focused. to outside eyes, he looks the same as ever, the placid smile and easy stance, but therion has lived on top of him for long enough and is far, far too observant to not catch the predator behind that false cheer. he is a fox, after all. and he's not that old.
he's sitting at the bar as well, though he's drinking something that looks more like sake than anything else. his ear flicks violently when therion gives him that last bit of information - he's right, a spy and a strategist do make a good pair - and his gaze slides over to therion. ]
Thank you. [ for gathering the information for him. absently, as he traces the lip of his cup: ] Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.
[ and he takes a sip from his drink. ]
Would you indulge me with something, love? [ just slips one of those in there and pretends he didn't say it because he likes to do it when therion's least expecting it ]
[ me: i need to remember how to play therion. also me: i have this idea already.
it's not that people haven't disappeared on thursdays, before. in fact, weeks into this murder experience, it's pretty normal, or at least as close to normal as something like that can get - and for therion, cynical at best and paranoid at worst, there was no chance he'd avoid it.
so go figure, one thursday, he closes his eyes and wakes up somewhere new - living the life of some swordsman, having completely forgotten his own comeup, he's led through the gauntlet of misery that comes with one of these thursday adventures. nearly drowned, nearly poisoned, ferociously fighting against anyone and anything that got anywhere near him on his 'mercenary' adventure. the monster fighting? that's fine.
the confrontation with darius? not so much.
when his group returns, it's in a pile - the four of them slamming into the ground in a pile of injured bodies and pained suffering, drenched wet and ice cold. the force of his body hitting the ground snaps therion into full fight-or-flight survival mode, and his eyes snap open when they should have closed, and before anyone can even look at him, he forces himself up to his feet, skittering away from the others like a feral animal on a broken foot, arm wrapped around his gut. blood runs down his face underneath his bangs, too: insult to fucking injury.
bu that's easily hid, if he turns his face down and moves. forget the clear signs of hypothermia. forget the fever. he's used to being cold, and sick, and hurt, and alone, and that's the way he fucking likes it - which means that by the time people are starting to arrive on scene, therion's already vanished, disappearing down the closest hallway in that shitty school and making a beeline for the train. his beeline is relatively steady, even if pain dogs every step and his head is pounding, his vision bloodied and blurry: the adrenaline keeps him moving, stealthily avoiding human contact until he makes it to the train station door.
the thing is, he does a good job hiding it by sight. no one would be able to find him, when he's hiding. but the smell of blood, even if it's hidden, to someone with a sharp nose? that might just be unmistakable. ]
[ as always, jiaoqiu is one of the first on the scene.
earlier in the day, he'd stopped by therion's room to try and see if he wanted to eat something - he's gotten so attached, and he knows that he shouldn't, but he can't help it. there's something about therion that keeps him coming back, the sass and the banter and the fact that therion needs someone to look out for him, even if he hates the idea of it, even if jiaoqiu has learned not to bring it up. and - well, you know. he doesn't have to worry about the memories, right, just so long as they stay out of the funhouse. he can keep this going for just a little longer. but that hasn't been on his mind so much, because therion wasn't in his room, and nobody else had seen him today yet, and while that isn't unusual, the little shit, it's thursday. so jiaoqiu is anxious, vibrating, as he waits for the first call.
and wouldn't you know it! he doesn't see therion, but one of the other healers on task taps his arm and says - he's running, we saw the bit of purple as he slipped away. so, despite his vision wavering and the fact that his hands are just covered in blood from tending to the others, he gets up, and he starts to follow the trail. because yeah, his sharp nose isn't fooled. what an idiot, he thinks to himself grouchily, ears pinned back. hides the worry. hides the stress at having to chase a patient down. it's not that he really knows just yet why therion is the way he is, but he has his suspicions. he's picked up on things, on little offhand comments. this is the norm for him, and it hurts jiaoqiu's healer heart.
jiaoqiu follows therion across heaven, to the train, and - he can't see, but it doesn't matter. the blood smell is strong here. so: ]
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looks around shiftily
it's not like this is an unusual occurrence - therion has been stabbed many, many times in his life - but it is something that needs to be taken care of as fast as possible before he bleeds to death. that's the trick with a stomach injury, because of fucking course it's in his stomach, and of course it's not in a spot he can really stitch together by himself with catgut and a needle in his shitty, tiny apartment he kind of lives in. go figure he didn't bring his bandages, and he got stabbed. whatever! it's fine.
he's staggered his way down the streets, listening to the chirp of google maps on his burner phone, and made it, stubbornly, four blocks away from the ditch he was left to die in, and into the glowy haven of a 24 hour pharmacy. the door opens perfectly silently in the dead of the night, and though it is fucking bright in here, the cold white lighting feels like a balm of some kind of relief. teeth gritted, he slinks to the side and out of the way of a line of sight, and starts to make his way towards the bandages.
from a distance, he just looks like another customer. big purple hoodie, hood pulled up over his head. his arm's underneath his sweatshirt and holding pressure tightly against the bleeding, wet wound in his gut, as subtle as he can physically make it as he gets to the counter. he needs pain spray, butterfly bandages, regular bandages. just enough to get by until he can stitch himself up properly (if you can call it that.) just enough to survive. stubbornly, he takes the items from the rack. one. two. three.
and normally, he'd be unnoticeable. in and out, healthcare in hand. he's stolen from a thousand different pharmacies, a thousand different times. but he has to stop, standing in front of the rack, and takes in a slow, deep breath, eyes squinted shut, and fiercely berates himself internally - don't you fucking fall over. don't you fucking fall over. take what you need and get out.
it does mean he looks like a particularly shifty character in your medical care aisle...but its probably fine? was he there before? ]
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he's filling out prescriptions when he hears the beep of the front sliding doors. his ear flicks, but he mostly ignores it. not his problem, it's the cashier's problem. as long as hanya hasn't fallen asleep at the front counter, he doesn't have to bother leaving his little enclosure. but - there's something that gets his attention, tonight. whatever it is, he follows his instincts, looking up.
the guy in purple isn't really all that more suspicious than most customers who come through here at ass AM. but... there's something about the way he's holding himself. it makes the old, deep scars across his shoulder and torso start to ache, fiercely. absently, he presses his hand to his chest, dragging in a stuttering breath. hm. ow.
if therion looks over towards the pharmacy window, he'll see a pair of gold eyes watching him. ]
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his arm tightens against his stomach, and he grabs onto the roll of bandages, the last thing he needs. disinfectant, bandages, butterfly bandages. good enough for him to stagger out to an alley and take care of himself. he glances off to the cashier, a sleepy looking woman who hasn't appeared to notice him. good.
on another night, therion would notice he was being stared at- even now, he feels it distantly, something making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. but he's so focused on not passing out and stealing the goods he's slipped into his pocket that he doesn't have the wherewithal to check the pharmacy window. and once he's sure the clerk is not paying attention, he slinks, slowly, away from his hiding spot. slower than usual, less stealthy than usual.
maybe just an amateur thief. ]
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puts on mcr
for a good portion of it, he doesn't get up out of bed. he wakes up, and goes back to sleep, but it's restless, and eventually the rain on the window gets too insistent. it's all he can focus on. so he sits up, and he opens his soft gold eyes and he stares out the window, into the pouring rain. it's like they're calling. so he answers it. he stands. he moves, he gets dressed, and he doesn't really pay attention to how long it takes him. maybe an hour? maybe less. he doesn't have any clocks in his house, and even if he did he wouldn't hear them.
he doesn't have much to bring them. sake, for her. a tupperware of noodles, mild, for him. he rests them carefully on the headstones, and he sits down between them, and doesn't care if he gets mud anywhere. he's soaked in seconds, his fur thick and matted, ears pressed down against the rain.
nothing much to say, either. he opens his mouth to try, a few times, but nothing comes out. so instead he sits, in silence, for hours. in this cemetery, in the cold, watching the moisture get trapped in the tupperware container, watching raindrops slide down the bottle. time doesn't really have much meaning out here. but what really does, he thinks? and then he laughs quietly to himself.
don't be so dramatic, jiaoqiu. ]
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one of those paths leads him through a graveyard. and on this normal, chilly, wet day, he spots something unusual - a bright flash of pink in the middle of all of that gray. a familiar flash of pink. is that... the doctor?
he's not going to pry, not really. therion doesn't have ghosts or people to mourn - he's not a heathen, he doesn't pickpocket people in the graveyard - so he heads down a path and ignores it the first time, off to run his errands. an hour later, however, when he comes back across the path, jiaoqiu is still there.
and three hours later, when he's run through the rich quarter of town and jiaoqiu is still there, he turns in a different direction entirely.
there's something so - lonely, about it. and while grief isn't familiar, loneliness is, in a clawing, aching way that he'd never, ever admit to. therion doesn't think like that. what he tells himself is that he's pretty sure he's going to catch his death, and it's a pain in the ass, and what kind of idiot sits out in the rain for hours at a time, and that's how he finds himself coming back with an umbrella over his head, his hoodie pulled up high, and stops to stand behind jiaoqiu soundlessly.
the rain over jiaoqiu stops, all of a sudden, replace with the soft sound of pattering over stretched canvas on an umbrella, and a voice breaks through. ]
You really gonna make me tell you you're going to catch your death out here?
[ his tone is resigned in the way therion has to be resigned, in the way he grouses, as he looks down at jiaoqiu. he's caught shades of this side of him, here and there, in the short time that they've known each other, and glancing at the gravestones, he can put the pieces together, but he saves jiaoqiu the question of "what the hell do you think you're doing". he doens't have much experience with grief. it doesn't mean he doesn't know what it looks like. ]
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feixiao, moze. same day death dates. a while back - years ago, but not far enough for it to be a memory.
at first, he doesn't even notice the fact that he's no longer getting rained on. there's no sound, there's no sensation, just the slow, steady drip of condensation down the side of the glass bottle to the dirt below. he can't drag his eyes away from it. everything else around him is blurred out, unimportant. just the stark, unmoving stone in front of him. he wonders, if he puts his hand out and touched the stone, would it burn? would it be cold? would it feel like anything at all? is that because of the cold numbing his skin, or is it because his body no longer exists? does it even matter?
and then there's a voice, and he blinks. his eyes hurt. he'd probably been staring for way too long. the sound of the rain is suddenly very, harshly loud in his ears, the patter against the umbrella distorted. his ear flicks.
jiaoqiu looks up, and is very, very surprised to see therion, of all people. is it actually him? why would he be here? a beat. ]
I haven't been out here that long.
[ maybe like fifteen minutes, right? ]
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oh miku we're really in it now
but the thing is, this week, therion caught wind of some hoity toity shipment coming into a wealthy family in the closest port time, carrying rare goods. it's not abnormal for him to swipe something off the top of a shipment like this, but today's came with a box of unique spices from halfway across the continent, and some rare produce to match - the kind that's nigh unattainable in the wintertime, and. well.
whatever. so he stole some of it. not a lot - a couple bundles of unground spices, a few pieces of produce - and then disappeared. and that's how he's found himself back at one of his normal haunts, back to the sprawling main city, and back to a little apartment on the fourth floor of a building on a less than wonderful part of town. it's not his apartment. no, no. no, he's just here to be a glorified delivery boy.
at least, that's what therion tells himself as he scales the fire escape. silent as a little mouse, up three floors, then the fourth, to a window that he's picked the lock on a thousand times. he's just dropping this shit off and leaving. if he thinks for even a second about what he's doing, he's going to get so embarrassed and mad at himself that he's going to throw himself off the building. why did he even think about getting this stuff? why did he even care? why did he leave behind a perfectly good score for some fucking vegetables. goddammit.
whatever. he's in through the window as he's grousing internally, dead silent as he pulls the window shut, avoids the creaky floorboard that he knows, and pads silently across jiaoqiu's apartment to open the door to his fridge, spilling light across the floor so he can put this shit away and then run like hell. it's fine! it's whatever! it's cool! ]
jiaosune miqiu
still. it's nice, when it isn't that. when the days don't pass like he doesn't see them at all. he still leaves apples in his fridge, just in case.
jiaoqiu is a light sleeper. it was a habit he picked up during his time as a military healer, having to get up and go without warning. and besides that, he pretty often has nightmares, so it's not unusual for him to just never reach deep sleep at all. his hearing and sense of smell are excellent, and he's sensitive to the changes in his apartment - so therion is dead silent, but all it takes is the difference in air pressure as the fridge opens in the other room, and jiaoqiu's ear flicks as he wakes.
at first, he thinks he's being robbed. that's funny, to him. there's nothing worth stealing in his apartment. but then he catches the smell of something spicy, and a much more familiar scent. therion. he knows that anywhere, the creased leather, earthy, something warm like a campfire. and when he realizes, he sits up in his bed, and pushes the covers away.
it's quiet enough in his apartment that therion will likely hear the door to jiaoqiu's bedroom open, and see jiaoqiu in just a long shirt and no pants, tail swishing lightly behind him, peering at him with softly glowing gold eyes in the dark.
whatcha doing... ]
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he hears it as he’s trying to figure out where the hell to put the produce - jiaoqiu’s fridge is vast compared to anything he’s ever had, and he’s trying to be sneaky- and the minuscule sound of the door opening sends him straightening up like an alert cat. if he had fur, it would all be standing on end as he freezes, still halfway in the fridge.
and - it’s not to say that he panics. he does not panic. he is a seasoned thief who has wriggled out of many situations, he does not panic, but he immediately freezes, holding incredibly still as he is faced with the reality of his choices that have led him to this moment. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He could just lie and gaslight him into thinking it’s a dream. he could just say he’s here to steal food and leave. But the thing is, he is still holding a stupid bunch of leafy greens, clearly visible in one hand.
There’s a long moment of silence. He slowly turns his head to look.
They lock eyes.
Fuck. ]
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anotha 200 comment thread
it takes time, but the built trust is steadier than it was before.
it's one of those weeks where he's been gone - responding to texts, but otherwise out halfway across the continent, taking time out by the sea just because he can. he sends pictures, occasionally - they're not the best quality, but they're there. sunrises over the ocean. a weird vegetable with a single "?". a stray cat on the side of the road. and by the time he's made his way back to the city, there's a little magnet pull in his chest that tells him to go -- to go home, which is such a fucking scary concept, but he lets it stay subconscious and lets his feet carry him, late night, to the pharmacy. he likes to wander in here, here and there. it's funny, to smile charmingly at the night guard and pretend that he's not the absolute nightmare of a person that he is, and get her tongue wagging when he walks jiaoqiu home. that's what's on his mind as he makes his way through the automatic doors, and then he looks towards the counter.
standing there is a figure he hasn't seen in years. orange hair, slicked back. leather jacket, leaning on the counter and talking casually to jiaoqiu. smile on his face. he's roguish and good at banter - he talks like an insane person, with his stupid fucking slang that therion would recognize from a mile away - and seeing darius in this fucking pharmacy is like taking a bat to a pane of glass, and therion freezes in the doorway, and just. he just stares. his tongue feels like it's made of cotton, feet made of lead, single green eye wide.
darius, of course, is oblivious to this. he's making a legitimate purchase - picking up some prescribed scar cream, something completely unthreatening, completely mundane. Got take care of the ol' stunner if I wanna settle down in this town, eh? with a teasing gesture to his face, to the scar across his nose. going to the doctor. existing.
therion's first instinct is to fucking run. but the thought that he could be trying to rob the store sticks, steal from the store just like therion did, and he squares his shoulders in the doorway even though he's - terrified? angry? bad, awful, everything feels awful, he thinks about how little jiaoqiu cares about his own fucking life and he sucks in a breath and he doesn't move, staring at him, at both of them from the front of the store like a hawk. ]
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still - therion is here. he texts, and jiaoqiu texts back. replies to sunrises with a colorful variety of poems, identifies vegetables, sends pictures of his own - the sunlight peeking through his window in the bedroom, a running shower, a meal he's particularly proud of. there is never time where he can't be pulled out of the void, even sometimes it takes a minute. he takes care of therion when he's sick or injured, he yanks him to bed, he makes him food, and does not talk about his past again. it's not bad. he likes it. he looks forward to whenever he gets home and there's a thief in his bed, and he keeps his phone close at all times. his heart aches when he thinks too much about it. sushang teases him about it, a little - when's your boyfriend coming back around, huh? and he doesn't ever answer.
and then it's now. therion's been somewhere with the ocean, and he's been enjoying the pictures he gets. but it's the middle of his shift, and there's a customer, so. he leaves his phone on the desk, and goes to chat.
this guy is... charming. or rather, he thinks he is. and jiaoqiu can imagine a lot of people are probably into what this guy is selling, but there's something about him that makes his fur stand on end. not in fear, though. his usual placid smile is in place, and therion can see it where he's standing - there's a decidedly annoyed tinge to the way his ears are positioned, something that a stranger would never notice.
the scar in particular, funnily enough, makes him think of therion. ]
New here, hm? [ he says idly, as he checks over the cream. ] Well. This should help.
[ pushes the cream over the counter with that same smile. ]
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three of them
jiaoqiu is much harder to hide than therion is, considering his... everything, so therion's usual escape plan's not as simple as he wants it to be. moving around another person is strange, but he minds it less than he thought he originally would - he hotwires a shitty little car from a repossession lot, and off they go.
sunshade is a few hours drive away. it's plenty of time to spend with someone else, but it's...nice, too. squabbling over the radio, stopping for snacks at strange gas stations, and weaving through traffic with the windows down and the stars overhead, the trip is shorter than any time he's ever taken by himself, a fact that therion simply will not consider for too long or he might explode.
as he pulls the car into a place to park late at night and leaves it there - if it's stolen, he truly does not care, it seems like sunshade is hopping. this place bustles at night, with the oppressive heat of the windswept desert replaced with outdoor heaters and comfortable darkness. the stars are massive overhead, and the hustle and bustle and most importantly, the fact that they are very far away from that main city, helps to put therion slightly (slightly) at ease. they're in the territory of a friend, anyway, if you could call her that. therion has told jiaoqiu nothing of her, or the fact that they're even meeting someone, though whether that's on purpose or accident is anyone's guess.
he glances over his shoulder to jiaoqiu once they're out of the car, and shrugs his shoulders, pulling his hood down and shaking out his hair. things are a little safer, here. and being out in the open air is just how he likes it - he can breathe. ]
's in the city center. C'mon.
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and then they're off! the trip there is just a little bit more of recovery time - it's nice to be outside, and even when he's not bickering back and forth with therion, he's happy to rest against the seat and stare out at the stars, humming softly along to the radio. off tune, but hey. the point is, he enjoys the journey, and he enjoys being with therion. he's far less likely to explode if he admits it to himself.
sunshade is a fascinating place. jiaoqiu climbs out of the car, only a little stiff, his leg complaining at him. and then he adjusts his clothes, and follows after therion easily enough, hands folded behind his back.
it's nearly two weeks of being fully awake. it's weird. not bad. just strange, to really see the world around him. absently, he reaches out to touch therion's back - something that's become a little bit of a grounding thing for him, just a brief slide of his fingers down therion's spine to remind himself where he is, and then he's okay.
he doesn't bother hiding his ears or tail. he's bright pink, he can't lay low. ]
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gives up
the city they'd previously been in - we're gonna go with it being new londinium except the au version where it's more habitable and you can travel around without an air purifier, so like, the blade runner city it's fine - isn't all that great of a place. it's dark, controlled by the ipc for the most part, and the part that jiaoqiu lived in wasn't exactly high class. he has no connection to it, just was given a place to work by the military company that dismissed him after feixiao and moze's death. he doesn't miss it. he misses sushang, sometimes, but mostly? he is glad to be somewhere new.
sunshade is nicer. it's hot here, but it's lively. the people are fascinating, and the colors are bright and vibrant, and the air feels better to breathe. primrose is a wonderful woman and jiaoqiu adores her, and so when it gets to be that therion is itchy to leave, jiaoqiu tells him to go. he can stay here, do some healing work for her. cook, too, if she needs it. it's a lot more difficult for him to void out in this place, and he's been trying really, really hard to keep that streak going.
just come back, he tells therion. i'll wait for you is implied.
he hangs out around sunshade for a while. a couple of weeks on his own is nothing, he's spent most of his life alone now. primrose is good company, and so are the other frequenters of the bar. boothill gets on his nerves, but he doesn't mind him as much when robin is around. she tends to balance out the worst of his rowdiness, and it makes for some very entertaining evenings, especially when rappa comes along with and starts trying to get people to do various ninja handsigns.
his favorite, however, is acheron. a quiet, thoughtful woman who has a similar view on life as he does. there's a melancholy to her that he wishes he could ease, sometimes, but she assures him it isn't fixable, and buys him another drink. they have a couple of very good conversations late into the night, even after primrose has started shutting down the tavern and shooing out the last couple of customers.
the point is - jiaoqiu does okay. he exists just fine from the day to day while therion is away, and his life is busy enough that the void doesn't get to him too badly. but he does miss him, and that's starting to build. one night, boothill coaxes him into having a drink, and that drink turns into another and another, and eventually, he stands up and nearly falls over because what he was drinking turned out to be waaay stronger than him. the thought occurs to him that he wants to go to bed, and he wants to curl up with therion, but... therion isn't here. he mumbles that into his arm, and boothill gives him a raised eyebrow before going, alright, buddy, think it's time for you to head on up to sleep, before you start telling me secrets you don't want no one hearing.
so, up he goes, to the room he was sharing with therion. he crawls into the bed, and he noses at the pillows, and is actually upset when he realizes he can't smell therion in them, anymore.
which is why therion gets a text message at three am: ]
H elloo
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part of it is his "job", if you can call it that. a career thief cannot stay in one place for too long, or people start to get suspicious. the old city had so many nooks and crannies he could hide out there for weeks, before the borisin thing happened. (before darius happened.) not that that really bothered him - it didn't feel like a loss of a home - because, well. the only thing he wanted from that city found its way out with him.
it's something therion's gotten - if not used to, it's something that he's settled into, bit by little bit. it started off back in the city, with a cellphone that he actually used, bought solely to communicate with jiaoqiu, and it's come to this, where he knows he has a home base, for now. he knows there's someone to come home to, because that someone is the closest thing he's ever had to a home. and, beyond that, he knows that jiaoqiu's safe, in sunshade. he's with primrose, who saw right through therion the first day he showed up there, who took jiaoqiu into her fold without any question. she was thrilled to have a proper doctor around, and picked up learning tips and tricks from jiaoqiu here and there - with that, and the spicy food occasionally on special now at the tavern, he's a more than welcome addition to the fray.
as for therion, he communicates on and off while he's gone, just like they used to, and the combination of being free and being settled all at once soothes something in his soul. he spends his wandering time stealing, picking pockets and taking treasures, travels out to the tiny town of bolderfall to see one of the only other connections he's ever allowed himself to have.
"You look happier, Mr. Therion." cordelia had said to him, with a smile on her face, when he showed up to see if the ravuses had any work for him - it embarrassed the hell out of him, and he put up all his walls and snapped about it, but cordelia's never been afraid of him, and unfortunately, he's probably softer for her than any other person in this world. except, well.
... needless to say, jiaoqiu is on his mind. he's on a train, heading back in sunshade's relative direction - though he may hit somewhere else before he returns, he hasn't decided, when at three in the morning, his phone buzzes in his pocket. he glances down at it. squints at the screen.
one new text. three am? why is he awake. it's not like the graveyard shift at the pharmacy, anymore... therion's nose wrinkles, and traitorously, he feels a little warmth, and then embarrassment at himself for feeling that way over a typo ridden text message. hello.
there's a couple minutes of nothing. but eventually... ]
Isn't it past grandpa's bed time?
[ terrible ]
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wiggles fingers
so, primrose asks therion when he's in town to take a look around. nothing particularly fancy. she'd do it herself, frankly, but it wouldn't look good if she were caught, and if you need someone for subterfuge, then, well. who better to ask than therion? and this completely pointed pander to his ego works completely. and as he was on his way out the door, primrose stopped him, and informed him she needed him to gather information, and there was nothing easier to do so than hiding in plain sight. therion scoffed at the idea - he knows, primrose, he knows how to infiltrate - and she had smiled at him with this evil look on her face.
jiaoqiu might have heard the sound of his refusals from the tavern kitchen, though banter's not that unusual and his hissing, spitting cat routine is a part of even the friendliest conversation, and despite all of his squawking, primrose delivered the coup de grace with a challenge.
she returns back to the tavern and leans on the doorframe of the kitchen - in the background, there's the sight of something purple vanishing with a glimmer of gold on the edge, but no way to really follow it as she says, "Jiaoqiu. You've been working hard lately. After service, why don't you take the night off? I can clean up after you when you're done."
and with that handled, with a slight curve to her smile, she goes off to do primrose things! mysterious.
in the meantime, therion's gone for a few hours. by the time he heads back for the tavern, he's got what primrose wanted and he did so silently and without getting caught, so suck on that, and he's going to drop off the information, and then just head straight upstairs and back to the room to get out of. this. ]
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and when primrose comes to talk to him, he tilts his head, ear flicking. oh. huh. well, okay. he doesn't argue, but that does sort of leave him with a whole night free. he isn't entirely sure what to do with himself! which is sort of sad, but it's fine. he probably has a book or two that he can distract himself with. so - he grabs some wine, because why not, and after service, he wanders up to their room to just chill out.
he imagines therion will probably be back soon. maybe he can convince him to go out to the night market or something.
except, like. therion comes into the room, and jiaoqiu starts to say something - it's not important, just like, hello, welcome home - and then he looks up and sees therion in this outfit, and stops dead.
a ]
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hurt comfort for irl hurt comfort
because it's not, not really. a sane and normal person would probably feel differently, or act differently than therion has recently. it's been months, now - the incident with hoolay is long behind them, and for the most part, things have been good. transient as he may be, he's made his way back to jiaoqiu. quietly, he shows his affection, learns to cope with the feeling of handing over his precious trust, bit by bit.
but lately, things have been off. it's a twitchy feeling somewhere in the back of his neck. sore old bones - it never rains in sunshade, but he takes jiaoqiu with him to a greener city along the train line and it pours, and it makes his bones ache with the weight of old injuries, with bitter nostalgia. it's looking at this good thing he has and wondering how it might break, thoughts that become more and more intrusive by the day. he steals things recklessly. sees a wanted poster with his own face on it when he hops to belobog, and in another town in northreach back here, not unusual but no less of a reminder. it's discordant, sometimes, to disappear into the shadiest parts of places unknown and return back to sunshade like he's some kind of normal person, someone with a life, as opposed to what he is. he watches jiaoqiu blossom in the desert sun and wonders how long it's going to be until therion ruins it somehow - or worse, until jiaoqiu realizes that he's not worth the attention or time he's really been given, that he's something or someone to be used. a lockpick. a stepping stone. hardly a person.
therion's barely aware of the rapidly downward spiral he's sliding down, and though he's kept it to himself for the most part, today, there's a catalyst. one of the workers at the tavern had been chattering with jiaoqiu about a cute new area of town when therion came in from his daily walkabouts, pockets a little heavier and footsteps light. he stops for a while to listen to the conversation, keeping a safe, undetectable distance, and eventually, he makes his way over to join him, greeting jiaoqiu and whoever he's talking to with a sup nod and not much else as he sits down and orders a drink. ]
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it worries him, sometimes, to think that therion might not feel the same. that therion could, at any moment, decide that he doesn't want the dead weight. he wonders if the only reason they're still a thing is because jiaoqiu knows about the tavern in sunshade - that it'd be too hard to get rid of him now, because of primrose. most times he can put that away, because therion seems happy with what they have, despite all his grumbling, but. it lingers.
today, he's nursing his own drink as he talks with one of the workers. he's been thinking about this recently - primrose tells him she doesn't mind letting him live in therion's room, and he believes her, but it might be nice to have a place to himself. he misses his little apartment, sometimes. he gave up the lease to it a month or two back, but didn't tell therion. and the thing is, he doesn't notice therion listening when he offhandedly mentions that he gave up his old apartment to the tavern worker - doesn't mention, either, that he didn't tell therion because he wasn't sure how he'd react to the idea of jiaoqiu giving up his old life entirely. it's just that sunshade feels a little better. warmer, he says, kind of a joke.
the new area of town is relatively inexpensive, hoping to coax in new life, and jiaoqiu is... considering it.
when therion slips into the seat next to him, his tail waves gently behind him, as usual. ]
Hello. [ he says, affection in his tone. ] Not too horribly sunburned?
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reverse reverse
when they get back to sunshade, jiaoqiu busies himself immediately. he sets therion up to recover in their room at primrose's place, insists he stays put for at least a week, and makes sure that he doesn't make himself sick. the houses out in that new neighborhood are now open, so jiaoqiu pulls together his savings, and buys a small one at the edge of town. for now, it's mostly empty, but... it's there, for both of them. they can make their way to it eventually. jiaoqiu is hesitant to mention it, even after everything, because he doesn't want to stress therion out while he's healing.
what he eventually says is he bought himself a place, and therion is welcome to live there with him if he wants, but he doesn't have to. and then he doesn't bring it up again, because he gets distracted by the fact that the anniversary of his general's death is coming.
it snuck up on him. jiaoqiu is almost startled, when he looks at the date and realizes how close it is. there's a lot of emotions that go through him at once, from panic to melancholy to something distant and overwhelmingly blank. he isn't close enough to walk to the graveyard, for the first time in years. he doesn't know what to do about it. and therion still is recovering, and he doesn't want to force him on a train, and - well, he almost doesn't want therion to see him at all, that day. it's been a long time since he's sunken down into the nihility, and that's strange to think about. he doesn't even know if it'll be that way now. he doesn't know if it'll get a grasp on him, after how much better he's been doing lately.
but he can't skip it. it'd feel wrong to not visit them. so.
it's a day or two before the anniversary date, and jiaoqiu settles down next to therion, wherever they are. hands him a snack - some riceballs. ]
... How are you feeling, today? [ he starts, head tilting. ]
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home, as jiaoqiu had called it, and therion had agreed. not begrudgingly, but allowed himself to, allowed himself to fall and be caught, just like jiaoqiu had asked, and allowed himself to trust. it's ended with him here, back in sunshade, alive as opposed to dead in a ditch, and currently considering the concept of living in a house with someone else. of using the front door, so to speak.
he doesn't get to do much considering of it, though. recovering from his injuries led to trouble, and therion, being therion, he acted like he was fine too quickly, until he passed out on jiaoqiu with a very, very high fever when they were just out for what was supposed to be a relaxing walk. the sickness took him out, and he sleeps more than he ever really has over the week or so when they return, not even putting up a fuss about being in one place because his body seems to recognize that he is in fact somewhere finally safe. it's probably a little scary to see, but it means he's recovering, so... maybe it's for the better.
either way, a week passes. the home mention felt like a fever dream - jiaoqiu doesn't bring it up again, and that's fine, though it recurs here in there in strange dreams. dreams of houses, cozy places, warmth he can't ever hold for long, kitchens full of spices. he dreams about a christmas tree. he also dreams about opening a door in the house and tumbling off the side of a cliff, again and again. it's a long, strange week.
but he's at the point now where he thinks he's fine. the fever's mostly cleared, and his head...hurts... still, but it's manageable, and he's about ready to crawl out of his skin and leave to do something from being fussed over. when jiaoqiu comes to find him today, therion's completely unaware of whatever he's thinking about - instead, he's just sitting on the bed, blankets over his lap, and picking dirt out from under his nails with his switchblade. there's a bottle of black nail polish sitting next to him, unopened, and that seems to be the intent for the current hour so he doesn't like, crawl out of the window. he does feel guilty for worrying jiaoqiu so badly, so he's trying (?) to behave himself at least a little.
when he's addressed, he glances up from what he's doing, glances down at the riceball snack, and shrugs. ]
Bored. [ well okay he's trying to behave but his attitude is no less surly than usual. he is so bored. ] Are you gonna believe me when I say fine this time...?
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the fact that my paid expired.
still, because he's therion, despite huffing and grumbling about it, despite harshness, he listens. picks up on information quietly and feeds it to jiaoqiu when they're sitting in a tavern bar - a spy and a strategist do in fact make a good pair. according to the locals, the quack doctor is a con artist who has been selling snake oil to violently ill citizens. the symptoms of the sickness are akin to a poisoning. the doctor's tall and dresses well, and frequents a tavern in the wealthiest parts of town.
therion drums his fingers on the bar where he's sitting, untouched beer in front of him, his sharp-eyed gaze focused on jiaoqiu. on the shift in this trip, from tourism to something fiercer. it'd be impossible to miss it.
...honestly, it's kind of attractive? the thought pings somewhere in his subconscious, but he ignores it, for now, delivering the last bit of information he gathered as nonchalant as can be. supposedly, the doctor's medicine fixes people then makes them sicker, so they're forced to cough up the cash for another remedy, and perpetuating the cycle anew. ]
Con artists. [ therion says, dryly, as if he is not also kind of a con artist, but it's different. ] That's about it.
YOUR PAID
they were here originally just to taste the cuisine, to explore, let therion get his fill of picking pockets and being away from home, and jiaoqiu has always been happy to just let that happen. but now, he's heard about a tall man in nice clothing taking advantage of the weak and sick, and it shifts his demeanor from something casual and sleepy to something far more focused. to outside eyes, he looks the same as ever, the placid smile and easy stance, but therion has lived on top of him for long enough and is far, far too observant to not catch the predator behind that false cheer. he is a fox, after all. and he's not that old.
he's sitting at the bar as well, though he's drinking something that looks more like sake than anything else. his ear flicks violently when therion gives him that last bit of information - he's right, a spy and a strategist do make a good pair - and his gaze slides over to therion. ]
Thank you. [ for gathering the information for him. absently, as he traces the lip of his cup: ] Integrity without knowledge is weak and useless, and knowledge without integrity is dangerous and dreadful.
[ and he takes a sip from his drink. ]
Would you indulge me with something, love? [ just slips one of those in there and pretends he didn't say it because he likes to do it when therion's least expecting it ]
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cyoa return... heavenly.....
it's not that people haven't disappeared on thursdays, before. in fact, weeks into this murder experience, it's pretty normal, or at least as close to normal as something like that can get - and for therion, cynical at best and paranoid at worst, there was no chance he'd avoid it.
so go figure, one thursday, he closes his eyes and wakes up somewhere new - living the life of some swordsman, having completely forgotten his own comeup, he's led through the gauntlet of misery that comes with one of these thursday adventures. nearly drowned, nearly poisoned, ferociously fighting against anyone and anything that got anywhere near him on his 'mercenary' adventure. the monster fighting? that's fine.
the confrontation with darius? not so much.
when his group returns, it's in a pile - the four of them slamming into the ground in a pile of injured bodies and pained suffering, drenched wet and ice cold. the force of his body hitting the ground snaps therion into full fight-or-flight survival mode, and his eyes snap open when they should have closed, and before anyone can even look at him, he forces himself up to his feet, skittering away from the others like a feral animal on a broken foot, arm wrapped around his gut. blood runs down his face underneath his bangs, too: insult to fucking injury.
bu that's easily hid, if he turns his face down and moves. forget the clear signs of hypothermia. forget the fever. he's used to being cold, and sick, and hurt, and alone, and that's the way he fucking likes it - which means that by the time people are starting to arrive on scene, therion's already vanished, disappearing down the closest hallway in that shitty school and making a beeline for the train. his beeline is relatively steady, even if pain dogs every step and his head is pounding, his vision bloodied and blurry: the adrenaline keeps him moving, stealthily avoiding human contact until he makes it to the train station door.
the thing is, he does a good job hiding it by sight. no one would be able to find him, when he's hiding. but the smell of blood, even if it's hidden, to someone with a sharp nose? that might just be unmistakable. ]
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earlier in the day, he'd stopped by therion's room to try and see if he wanted to eat something - he's gotten so attached, and he knows that he shouldn't, but he can't help it. there's something about therion that keeps him coming back, the sass and the banter and the fact that therion needs someone to look out for him, even if he hates the idea of it, even if jiaoqiu has learned not to bring it up. and - well, you know. he doesn't have to worry about the memories, right, just so long as they stay out of the funhouse. he can keep this going for just a little longer. but that hasn't been on his mind so much, because therion wasn't in his room, and nobody else had seen him today yet, and while that isn't unusual, the little shit, it's thursday. so jiaoqiu is anxious, vibrating, as he waits for the first call.
and wouldn't you know it! he doesn't see therion, but one of the other healers on task taps his arm and says - he's running, we saw the bit of purple as he slipped away. so, despite his vision wavering and the fact that his hands are just covered in blood from tending to the others, he gets up, and he starts to follow the trail. because yeah, his sharp nose isn't fooled. what an idiot, he thinks to himself grouchily, ears pinned back. hides the worry. hides the stress at having to chase a patient down. it's not that he really knows just yet why therion is the way he is, but he has his suspicions. he's picked up on things, on little offhand comments. this is the norm for him, and it hurts jiaoqiu's healer heart.
jiaoqiu follows therion across heaven, to the train, and - he can't see, but it doesn't matter. the blood smell is strong here. so: ]
Therion.
[ sternly, firm. hey, punk. come here. ]
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