[ his ears press back a little further - his expression doesn't change, because they're both masters of keeping neutral, but the thing about being close to someone is that sometimes, you learn their body language very, very well. and what therion can probably tell from just that is that I've got somewhere to live hurts his feelings a little. but he doesn't say anything, or contest it. just... okay. that's fine.
silence, for a moment, as he looks down at his drink. ]
... No. [ and he brings said drink up to knock back the rest of it. ] My lease for my previous apartment lapsed, and I did not renew it. I don't have any desire to go back. I suppose that makes me between homes, for now.
[ yeah. he sees it - the hurt in those pressed back ears is impossible to miss. good, some tiny, bitter part of him thinks, eggs on. that's what he wants, right now. if jiaoqiu wants to go live in some fancy apartment and settle back down, he can do that. it's going to save therion the hurt if he backs off, because jiaoqiu's going to settle his roots down, and therion can't do that. he can't give him what he needs because he doesn't know how to give.
he looks at him for a moment, silent, taking what he said in. he didn't renew his lease?
there's a huff. guess that's not really that surprising. he did almost die there. ]
Makes two of us. [ he doesn't even really seem mad, is the thing. he just seems off, or at least he seems like he's put up all his walls, again, the iron curtain he had when they first met. ] If you like one, then get one.
[ it takes a lot, to make jiaoqiu angry. he doesn't often snap, or curse, or even use harsher language at all. whenever he's annoyed, it's passive aggressive, muted. he very rarely even lets it out. most emotions he swallows, and keeps down where he can't see. where nobody can see. someone has to be calm. someone has to be the tactician, the one that watches from all angles, and comes to a conclusion that makes objective sense.
but therion is off. therion is closing off from him, and jiaoqiu does not lose his patience very often, but - maybe tonight, he does, because he doesn't understand what he did or said wrong. this is the last landmine he can brush off - and more than that, his feelings are hurt. so, tone sharp, a lash of a whip: ]
If you would take my offer without biting me first, for once in your life, you could have a home.
[ it almost takes him off guard, because he's gotten the occasional, frustrated therion from jiaoqiu, but nothing quite so sharp before. an open wound that he naturally digs his fingers in - they're still sitting in the tavern area, there are still people around, and the idea of being seen makes therion prickle even further.
for once in your life, you could have a home, he says. it stings, and the scowl deepens. this could be that turning point, as so many turning points have been passed between them, a place they could reach together, but he's thinking about cliffs and falling and he's not able to make that step. therion keeps his voice low, turning his head to actually, properly look at him, and he says what he knows is going to hurt. ]
I don't want one. [ point blank, just as sharp. mean. jiaoqiu's right; he's a mean dog that bites, even still. ] You ever think of that?
[ it's a lie. it's a self-protecting, desperate lie, selfish words from a selfish little parasite. of course he wants a home. of course he's - having one, having something close to it, has made his heart ache in ways too big for his ribcage, and he's given himself over to it, and he shouldn't, he knows better. ]
[ it does hurt. it hurts a lot, actually, because there's so much to it. it unlocks all of those worries and fears, the idea that this is temporary, like everything else in his life. the little bit of being alive, of being awake, in his long, long life - it only lasts as long as therion cares to play with him. and if he's too pushy, if he's not interesting enough, if he's too sedentary, therion will take off and never come back, and it'll be just like the borisin before him. useful for his holes and very little else. for his medicine skills, maybe.
i don't want a home, i don't want to play house, and most of all, i especially want to do neither with you. it's a lie, but it's very easy for someone as worthless as jiaoqiu to believe. it's such an easy, open path to the idea that jiaoqiu has overstayed his welcome. that explains why he never says, out loud, that he loves jiaoqiu, too. it all makes sense. therion's a good person. he wouldn't lie about something like that just to save jiaoqiu's feelings. he'd dodged around it before to stop jiaoqiu from sinking back into the void, obviously.
a pause, clutching the drinking glass tightly. ]
No. I didn't think of that. [ ... ] Then I suppose I must be nothing more than a shackle to you.
it doesn't make him feel better. in fact, it mostly just makes it worse - but hey, that's how it's supposed to be, right? what did darius ever do but use him. he's no better than that. that's what he needs jiaoqiu to see. he needs him to understand that therion's just as shitty, just as bad, that he doesn't have sharp teeth and toxins and god only knows what else, but all he knows how to do is hurt.
and yet, there's something about that that sticks. a shackle? no. no, he doesn't think that. that's the thing - and no, therion couldn't ever say "i love you" because he was scared. and here, despite his current attempt at pushing him away, he can't bring himself to deliver the final blow. yeah, that's it. just a shackle.
the words are there, but he can't, because he doesn't think that, because despite everything, he's never felt like a shackle. because he's never trapped him - he's only ever offered him safety. comfort. love. he's respected therion's boundaries, his nature, and if therion was a smarter person, he'd stop trying to push himself away from the one thing he actually wants. but all he can do is not choke out the last, cruel phrase, and push himself up from the barstool. ]
Think whatever you want.
[ he pushes the rest of his drink away, back towards the bar, and drops some cash down with it, turning his back. whatever. he doesn't need this. he doesn't need a house. he doesn't need a life. to have those things is just to lose them. ]
[ if jiaoqiu were a little less broken, a little less critical of himself, he'd get up and he'd go after therion. he'd grab therion's hand and he'd tell him what he feels. he'd get all of the poison he keeps swallowing down out and he'd hand over his heart and ask therion to be honest, to just, for once, to be vulnerable, because jiaoqiu has earned a little bit of that, right? he can't keep expecting jiaoqiu to hurt him when he has done all he can to prove that he won't.
but he is broken, and he is critical of himself, and it's not therion that's at fault, it's just that this is how his entire life has gone. not enough.
(you should sit down, the general and the crow are--)
cunning and patience will get you nowhere if the rest of you is worth less than dirt. so. he watches therion get up and turn his back, and says nothing. he just slides off his own barstool and drifts off to the back of the tavern, towards their room. therion's room. he'll decide what to do later. ]
not that unusual, really - he disappears for days at a time sometimes. it's kind of the benefit of being who he is, that when he walked into this tavern, he had his whole life slung over his back, and now as he's leaving it, he has the same.
(only... he doesn't. the upstairs room where he's been staying has touches of his life - practical things like extra clothes and food, but the less practical, too. an extra set of earrings, a bottle of black nail polish. a hoodie that jiaoqiu bought that was too big on purpose, that therion stole more often than not. extra blankets for cold desert nights. a hairbrush bought specifically to deal with fur care that therion pretended he didn't buy just for himself to use for jiaoqiu, when they settled together and he'd brush out his tail despite all his complaining. and then there's jiaoqiu himself - a stolen treasure, something he never deserved to have, but the greatest heist he'd ever pulled off.)
in the end, he's gone with the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and his shitty little backpack, off into the night to go fuck off somewhere else, as far away from sunshade and as far away from what he ruined as humanly possible, like maybe that'll make it easier. like maybe it won't hurt, if he leaves it behind. he skips out of the country, the first few days. off for inter-system travel, and then disappears again, somewhere else, again and again.
a week passes with no word. a week and a half. nearly two. not a text message, not an in person sighting, nothing. primrose notices - if she hadn't noticed his general absence, she'd notice jiaoqiu. she's a smart girl, observant. and it's on the eve of the beginning of that second week that she crooks her finger and tells him she's booked him a private service at the end of his shift. something special. some of the others are giggly about it, as they often are.
but in reality, that "private service" turns out to be the private back room of the tavern, once used for any manner of seedy activities, bed and all, and is actually just primrose herself, shutting the curtains on the rest of the world for a while. whether it's successful or not, primrose insists he sit with her for a while, pulls his head into her lap and fixes his braids for him.
she'll avoid the topic for him for some of the evening but, at some point, she sighs, and pulls on a lock of his hair, and says, "I don't know what's happened between you two, but I do know this - men are stupid."
and jiaoqiu may get the feeling that perhaps this a statement mostly directed towards therion.... mostly. ]
nearly two, and it's likely the worst primrose has ever seen him, really. he shows up to work, but he's shut off. his expression is placid, a smile, but there's nothing behind it. time is a blur, and he finds himself almost fast-forwarded. in front of a stove, looking at where he accidentally burned his fingers. in bed, where he rolled over into an empty space. outside, at the edge of town - unsure how he got there, actually. when he checks his wallet after that one, he finds that he doesn't have one anymore. not that it matters. he doesn't have anybody to buy anything for, so he just stops carrying things around with him at all.
he's late to breakfast service one morning because he doesn't hear his alarm. something in him is terrified at that. the overwhelming majority doesn't care, and he sinks back into the silence, apologizing to primrose when he comes downstairs, gold eyes dead and flat. that's the day that she books a private service with him, and he doesn't have any reason to refuse. so he goes, showing up because he has no other place to be.
primrose is allowed to do whatever she wants. his hair is passable - his braids look like he hasn't touched them in a few days - but his fur around his ears and his tail, especially, are tangled and snarled. he doesn't react much as she braids it, just rests where he's curled up, head in her lap. it should be comforting, but he's distracted by the lighting on the wall. if he stares long enough, it flickers. he's not sure if it's his eyes or if it's the light itself.
it takes him a second to realize that she's said something. you're supposed to reply, he tells himself. right. ]
A wise sentiment. [ he says, voice airy and light. he's good at this. he's good at pretending. ] Women have always been our greatest benefactors. Without them, we would run the world into the ground.
[ but he's distant and not really paying attention to what he's saying. he doesn't want to think about therion, and his empty bed, the black nail polish jiaoqiu is wearing clumsily painted onto claws, the brush that he hid under the bed because he couldn't bear to look at it. ]
[ oh, it's so bad. those dead gold eyes were a giveaway. the placid face is too. see, game recognizes game, because primrose azelhart wore that same expression on her face for the majority of her adult life. the same vapid, fake smile. it's how she knows, because she was great at pretending, too - it was one of the things that she and therion had in common, though in her opinion, he was kind of bad at it comparatively.
so, thus, jiaoqiu gets dragged off to be paid attention to. she looks down at him as she fixes the braids, undoes them with her clever fingers and combs her fingers through it, finds some of the snarls in his fur and gently picks through those, too, the best that she can. she doesn't know he needs a brush for it in particular. therion learned it from observation.
however, she does sigh when he says this. "Yes. And you are so full of pretty words, as always..."
and then tugs on a piece of his hair. "And not a single thought behind them. " because she is not stupid! she can see you moping!! and in fact, she'll let the silence rest for a moment after this correct accusation, and then add, "You're wearing black nail polish." ]
[ it's okay - she's doing her best, and it does mean something. over time, he's grown to care a lot about primrose. she's a brilliant, clever woman, and she's been through so much. she hasn't told him a lot of it, and that's fine, he never pries, but he recognizes the vapid smile the same way she recognizes his. he knows what causes that. war, of whatever kind. so - he cares for her, he picks up extra work to ease her burdens and he listens, because she is worth it. and... well, she's a little easier to look after than therion ever has been.
not a single thought, she accuses, and his tail flicks once, almost in protest. but he doesn't argue. his eyes are on the growing black hole in the middle of the room. if he reached out, he could probably touch it.
but her observation gets him to pause. ]
... Therion left it behind. [ he says, finally. it's kind of pathetic. ] I haven't... heard from him. I don't expect to.
"Yes, I thought as much." first, because jiaoqiu does not seem like an emo kid like therion does. she does not say this, but she does think it, and after the pause, she watches jiaoqiu's distant staring for a long moment, and mentally ratshakes therion because this has to be his fault.
"It's been some time, even for him." primrose starts, after a moment, weight behind her phrasing, because she knows him, too. primrose would see therion maybe once every few months, before his arrival with jiaoqiu, but the stretches were down to mere days, and he'd stay for weeks at a time. he left much more behind than just a bottle of nail polish. there's another soft sigh. "Will you tell me what happened? Or shall I guess." ]
[ it's a little jiaoqiu's fault too, because he sucks just as bad at communicating, but he has no way of - you guessed it - communicating this. he picks at the polish on his nails absently, laying limply in primrose's lap. ]
... I am a shackle. [ he says, softer, staring out across the room. ] I suggested that I find an apartment here. I invited him to live with me, and of course he wasn't interested. He won't need to play house any longer.
[ it's been like this from the start - he's always felt bad tying his chain to therion, because by nature therion was not someone who would be happy or satisfied with being stagnant in one place. he shouldn't have mentioned it. ]
[ mm. she looks into the camera like this is the office. not really but that's the vibe.
"... typical." yeah, that sounds about right. though, she glances down at jiaoqiu, pausing in her braiding, her voice as soft as always. "And did you believe him, when he said those things?" ]
a beat. jiaoqiu wrenches his gaze away from the room to look up at her. ]
I don't know what else to do, Primrose. [ he just sounds very tired. defeated. ] He won't say the words. What else am I supposed to think, when everything he says suggests I'm a burden to him?
[ not his actions, though. jiaoqiu knows, somewhere, that actions speak louder than words, and he knows the type of person therion is, but he's gotten to the end of the feeble self worth he's got. eventually, that's going to start telling him that he should stop reading love into how therion acts, no matter how genuine it is. ]
[ this time, her hands stroke through his hair instead of just braiding when their eyes meet - the gesture is affectionate, but more so than anything, it's laced with concern. she's come to care very much about jiaoqiu, in his time in this place, and watching him backslide like this is troubling. it's written on her face, a small, sad look that fades as she shakes her head.
"Let me tell you a story." primrose says, softly. "Once, Therion and I traveled together with a companion who was a pox on womankind. That man was, by far, the most charming man that I have ever known, and he meant every word of what he said - only, he never quite understood why women fell at his feet. Therion thought to laugh, when I scolded him for it.
However, he was no better. I said that the two of them together, combined, could make the perfect gentleman. One who communicates too much - and the other, who seems to assume that the other party will understand his intentions without saying a single word at all."
there's a notable pause for effect as she finishes what she's saying - a bit of amusement to the story, lightly told despite it's meaning. "A problem you're familiar with. Though...I wonder if it sounds familiar for more reason that one...?" ]
[ did you just compare him to cyrus he'll explode (no)
no, the meaning is clear, he knows she's getting at him for not communicating clearly either. he leans into the hands a little because it's... well, he didn't realize how touch-starved he was until he had all the touch in the world. it makes him feel a little more grounded, and that's why, at the end of the story she tells, he's a bit pouty. just a little. mostly mollified, though, because it's nice to know that he's not insane. silence, for a moment, and then: ]
I thought I made myself clear enough. [ he did not. he just expected i love you to do all the work. and to be fair, it was a monumental thing, but. y'know.
he slumps down into her lap, ears pinned back tightly against his skull. ]
... I don't know where he is.
[ so even if he wanted to try, which he doesn't because he's a baby, he can't. probably. ]
[ no he's both of them, which is worse!!! you are good at communicating but also TERRIBLE at it!!!!
anyway. as he slumps down, the more honest answers are sort of what she was looking for, and primrose continues to stroke through his hair, smiling a little at the pout on his face, though the last part earns a soft click of her tongue.
"Give me a few days." which is like, terrifying sounding and therion sneezes somewhere where he's also sulking, but it really just means she's going to reach out to cordelia, because if anyone knows where therion is, it's going to be her, but jiaoqiu doesn't need to know that right now. "I'd like to have a word with him myself."
there's a brief pause, and after a moment, primrose sets her hand down on his head and leaves it there, and her brow knits together. and then, a little softer: "...Do you want to try to find him, or not, Jiaoqiu?" ]
she says give me a few days and here's the thing - he believes she can find him, wherever the hell he went. primrose is a force of nature, and though he doesn't know it, so is cordelia.
but. he sits with that question for a moment, eyes closed, ears still pinned back. does he? does he want to face potential heartbreak? does he want to hold out his hand one more time, get bit again, have to wade through all of the moats and climb all the defenses and still, possibly, be told that he's wasting his time? does he want to risk all of that, for a chance to bring therion back home?
he looks down at his hand. at his nails, at the horrible paint job. ]
... Yes. [ he says, finally, voice small. he does. ]
the expression on her face softens a little, then slides into a smile, and she says, confident and simple - "Then, I'll find him."
as simple as that. jiaoqiu has done quite a bit for her here - as someone who also had precious few friendships in her life, each one that she cultivates is tender and important. much like therion, she held her heart out and had it shattered to pieces, and found years later that the emptiness vengeance left behind was only somewhat filled by the company and kindness of the people she came to care for. so many people who come through these doors are like her, like therion, like jiaoqiu - fundamentally broken people, who still find ways to fit their rough edges together.
so. she'll find that little rat thief, who she loves dearly, for jiaoqiu, who she loves dearly. let someone else have a chance at something - miscommunication is far more fixable than dishonesty.
running her fingers through his bangs, she then pulls her hand away and gives his cheek a little pat. "And the two of you will talk to each other, or there will be consequences." this is a threat. "In the meantime, stay with me this evening, and stop wallowing in that bedroom, at least for a night."
one night of platonic friend cuddles before shit hits the fan ]
i'll find him, she says, and he's quiet, but he can hear the chatter outside of the private room. he's a little cold. he's a little hungry. there's the low drone of a fan nearby, and the smell of dinner still lingering out in the hall. when he shifts, the bed is comfortable and warm underneath him. he feels it, when she pats his face. and there's a warmth, a thawing in his chest, at being asked to stay.
he does. he wants to. being alone isn't good for him, as good at it as he is. the dancers can giggle all they want about it, he doesn't care - jiaoqiu wants nothing more than to spend the night here with her, with someone who cares enough about both him and therion to intervene. he's bony, but he's good at cuddling, and he's very appropriate with how he does it. she's safe with him.
and somewhere in there, he presses a very gentle kiss to her forehead and gives her a simple thank you, because sometimes you are an idiot who needs someone to whack you on the head and remind you to keep trying.
sorry to primrose for what comes next honestly, lord ]
[ better! he looks a little better by the end of the night. primrose fixes his manicure so it's less pathetic, and then they cuddle, and the forehead kiss clearly makes her feel some kind of way about having friends and important people, and it's a good night for everyone.
a few more days pass in that way - peaceful, relatively. quiet. primrose reaches out to cordelia, who then sends heathcote out, and no one can find therion quite like heathcote can because they are the same kind of rat person. he reports his findings to cordelia, who brings them to primrose, and she informs jiaoqiu before his shift that evening that she knows where therion is. the town of northreach - it's an ice cold, tiny town high up in the mountains, but only a few hours away by car. doable.
when primrose hands the information over, there's something visible in her eyes - worry, it looks like, molded over easily by many years of keeping a straight face, but. cordelia said she was worried about therion, based on what heathcote said, and she passes that message along, too. take care, she says, shooing him away from doing any work, and sending him right on his way.
arriving in northreach, the town itself is Bleak. this place seems pretty rough - there's sort of an aura of fear that permeates through the main streets themselves. it's inhabited by all manners, at least, and no one looks strangely at a foxian no matter how pink he is, but there's something almost oppressive about the air here. the town itself isn't too big, either. there's a huge church, a few neighborhoods, a few stores, and a couple of bars. no sign of therion, but he'd never be out in the open, anyway, so that's not too worrying. any attempt to ping his phone is met with no response. ]
[ well. primrose is worried, which means jiaoqiu is worried. but he keeps it away, as best he can. he isn't the type to work himself up into a frenzy without information. all he needs to do is find therion, and then he can go from there.
jiaoqiu is not terrible at seeking. it was never his job in the military, nor was it his specialty when he worked for feixiao. but he learned a thing or two from moze, and he learned a thing or two from tracking moze, so he takes that and puts it to use.
when he enters northreach, he pulls his several layers closer, feeling more cold than usual, and starts looking. the church, he stays away from. he's not interested in it and he doubts therion would be either, so it's a last resort. the stores he checks first, peeking around for any trace of purple, looking for signs. he doesn't ask people so much if they've seen therion because therion is a professional - he imagines nobody will have seen him at all. instead, he listens. tries to see if people have had anything stolen lately. and if he can't find anything there, he'll scoot by the bars to try and find anything suspicious at all.
the aura of fear in this place is a little overwhelming. he numbs himself out a bit, exploring. ]
there's no sign of therion, but jiaoqiu's wisely not surprised by it. the people here seem very skittish - for the most part, residents keep to themselves, muttering to each other, while others seem to strut around like they own the place, laughing and carousing loudly as the other residents scurry away. a town of cats and mice, it seems.
there's a lot of talk about things going missing here. there's some kind of traveling shop owner complaining at one of the locals - I turned my back for one second, and all my goods were gone! Is someone going to do something about this? - as the local person shakes her head, pats the merchant on the arm, and says there's no point. No law here, at least for that kind of thing.
but strangely enough, as he's numbing out and approaching one of the bars, he finds it to be fairly full of a bunch of those rowdier types. the bartender, a surly looking guy, glances at jiaoqiu when he walks in and then goes back to work. nothing about that is particularly odd, but what is odd is on the wall, there's a wanted poster hanging on the wall. handmade, with a sketch of a young man in a scarf with his bangs falling over his eye. ]
[ no law here, huh. guess that explains why therion made his way here.
jiaoqiu is not necessarily out of place in a bar, but in a rowdy one full of rough and tumble types, a delicate pink foxian in a cardigan and slacks probably looks like he doesn't belong. he ignores the bartender and the rest of the patrons to wander over to the wall, and - if possible - reaches up and takes the wanted poster off the wall. there he is. he's been here. ]
What did you do to find yourself on one of these? [ he murmurs to himself, ears pinning back slightly. he stares down at the poster for a while, taking in the details, taking in how much he's wanted for, and then turns to go right up to the bartender. shoves the poster in his face, because with the amount of numb he is right now, he has absolutely no fear. maybe he looks out of place, but with his calm smile and lidded eyes, he definitely has Presence. ]
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no subject
silence, for a moment, as he looks down at his drink. ]
... No. [ and he brings said drink up to knock back the rest of it. ] My lease for my previous apartment lapsed, and I did not renew it. I don't have any desire to go back. I suppose that makes me between homes, for now.
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he looks at him for a moment, silent, taking what he said in. he didn't renew his lease?
there's a huff. guess that's not really that surprising. he did almost die there. ]
Makes two of us. [ he doesn't even really seem mad, is the thing. he just seems off, or at least he seems like he's put up all his walls, again, the iron curtain he had when they first met. ] If you like one, then get one.
no subject
but therion is off. therion is closing off from him, and jiaoqiu does not lose his patience very often, but - maybe tonight, he does, because he doesn't understand what he did or said wrong. this is the last landmine he can brush off - and more than that, his feelings are hurt. so, tone sharp, a lash of a whip: ]
If you would take my offer without biting me first, for once in your life, you could have a home.
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for once in your life, you could have a home, he says. it stings, and the scowl deepens. this could be that turning point, as so many turning points have been passed between them, a place they could reach together, but he's thinking about cliffs and falling and he's not able to make that step. therion keeps his voice low, turning his head to actually, properly look at him, and he says what he knows is going to hurt. ]
I don't want one. [ point blank, just as sharp. mean. jiaoqiu's right; he's a mean dog that bites, even still. ] You ever think of that?
[ it's a lie. it's a self-protecting, desperate lie, selfish words from a selfish little parasite. of course he wants a home. of course he's - having one, having something close to it, has made his heart ache in ways too big for his ribcage, and he's given himself over to it, and he shouldn't, he knows better. ]
I'm not interested in playing house.
no subject
i don't want a home, i don't want to play house, and most of all, i especially want to do neither with you. it's a lie, but it's very easy for someone as worthless as jiaoqiu to believe. it's such an easy, open path to the idea that jiaoqiu has overstayed his welcome. that explains why he never says, out loud, that he loves jiaoqiu, too. it all makes sense. therion's a good person. he wouldn't lie about something like that just to save jiaoqiu's feelings. he'd dodged around it before to stop jiaoqiu from sinking back into the void, obviously.
a pause, clutching the drinking glass tightly. ]
No. I didn't think of that. [ ... ] Then I suppose I must be nothing more than a shackle to you.
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it doesn't make him feel better. in fact, it mostly just makes it worse - but hey, that's how it's supposed to be, right? what did darius ever do but use him. he's no better than that. that's what he needs jiaoqiu to see. he needs him to understand that therion's just as shitty, just as bad, that he doesn't have sharp teeth and toxins and god only knows what else, but all he knows how to do is hurt.
and yet, there's something about that that sticks. a shackle? no. no, he doesn't think that. that's the thing - and no, therion couldn't ever say "i love you" because he was scared. and here, despite his current attempt at pushing him away, he can't bring himself to deliver the final blow. yeah, that's it. just a shackle.
the words are there, but he can't, because he doesn't think that, because despite everything, he's never felt like a shackle. because he's never trapped him - he's only ever offered him safety. comfort. love. he's respected therion's boundaries, his nature, and if therion was a smarter person, he'd stop trying to push himself away from the one thing he actually wants. but all he can do is not choke out the last, cruel phrase, and push himself up from the barstool. ]
Think whatever you want.
[ he pushes the rest of his drink away, back towards the bar, and drops some cash down with it, turning his back. whatever. he doesn't need this. he doesn't need a house. he doesn't need a life. to have those things is just to lose them. ]
no subject
but he is broken, and he is critical of himself, and it's not therion that's at fault, it's just that this is how his entire life has gone. not enough.
(you should sit down, the general and the crow are--)
cunning and patience will get you nowhere if the rest of you is worth less than dirt. so. he watches therion get up and turn his back, and says nothing. he just slides off his own barstool and drifts off to the back of the tavern, towards their room. therion's room. he'll decide what to do later. ]
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not that unusual, really - he disappears for days at a time sometimes. it's kind of the benefit of being who he is, that when he walked into this tavern, he had his whole life slung over his back, and now as he's leaving it, he has the same.
(only... he doesn't. the upstairs room where he's been staying has touches of his life - practical things like extra clothes and food, but the less practical, too. an extra set of earrings, a bottle of black nail polish. a hoodie that jiaoqiu bought that was too big on purpose, that therion stole more often than not. extra blankets for cold desert nights. a hairbrush bought specifically to deal with fur care that therion pretended he didn't buy just for himself to use for jiaoqiu, when they settled together and he'd brush out his tail despite all his complaining. and then there's jiaoqiu himself - a stolen treasure, something he never deserved to have, but the greatest heist he'd ever pulled off.)
in the end, he's gone with the clothes on his back, the shoes on his feet, and his shitty little backpack, off into the night to go fuck off somewhere else, as far away from sunshade and as far away from what he ruined as humanly possible, like maybe that'll make it easier. like maybe it won't hurt, if he leaves it behind. he skips out of the country, the first few days. off for inter-system travel, and then disappears again, somewhere else, again and again.
a week passes with no word. a week and a half. nearly two. not a text message, not an in person sighting, nothing. primrose notices - if she hadn't noticed his general absence, she'd notice jiaoqiu. she's a smart girl, observant. and it's on the eve of the beginning of that second week that she crooks her finger and tells him she's booked him a private service at the end of his shift. something special. some of the others are giggly about it, as they often are.
but in reality, that "private service" turns out to be the private back room of the tavern, once used for any manner of seedy activities, bed and all, and is actually just primrose herself, shutting the curtains on the rest of the world for a while. whether it's successful or not, primrose insists he sit with her for a while, pulls his head into her lap and fixes his braids for him.
she'll avoid the topic for him for some of the evening but, at some point, she sighs, and pulls on a lock of his hair, and says, "I don't know what's happened between you two, but I do know this - men are stupid."
and jiaoqiu may get the feeling that perhaps this a statement mostly directed towards therion.... mostly. ]
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nearly two, and it's likely the worst primrose has ever seen him, really. he shows up to work, but he's shut off. his expression is placid, a smile, but there's nothing behind it. time is a blur, and he finds himself almost fast-forwarded. in front of a stove, looking at where he accidentally burned his fingers. in bed, where he rolled over into an empty space. outside, at the edge of town - unsure how he got there, actually. when he checks his wallet after that one, he finds that he doesn't have one anymore. not that it matters. he doesn't have anybody to buy anything for, so he just stops carrying things around with him at all.
he's late to breakfast service one morning because he doesn't hear his alarm. something in him is terrified at that. the overwhelming majority doesn't care, and he sinks back into the silence, apologizing to primrose when he comes downstairs, gold eyes dead and flat. that's the day that she books a private service with him, and he doesn't have any reason to refuse. so he goes, showing up because he has no other place to be.
primrose is allowed to do whatever she wants. his hair is passable - his braids look like he hasn't touched them in a few days - but his fur around his ears and his tail, especially, are tangled and snarled. he doesn't react much as she braids it, just rests where he's curled up, head in her lap. it should be comforting, but he's distracted by the lighting on the wall. if he stares long enough, it flickers. he's not sure if it's his eyes or if it's the light itself.
it takes him a second to realize that she's said something. you're supposed to reply, he tells himself. right. ]
A wise sentiment. [ he says, voice airy and light. he's good at this. he's good at pretending. ] Women have always been our greatest benefactors. Without them, we would run the world into the ground.
[ but he's distant and not really paying attention to what he's saying. he doesn't want to think about therion, and his empty bed, the black nail polish jiaoqiu is wearing clumsily painted onto claws, the brush that he hid under the bed because he couldn't bear to look at it. ]
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so, thus, jiaoqiu gets dragged off to be paid attention to. she looks down at him as she fixes the braids, undoes them with her clever fingers and combs her fingers through it, finds some of the snarls in his fur and gently picks through those, too, the best that she can. she doesn't know he needs a brush for it in particular. therion learned it from observation.
however, she does sigh when he says this. "Yes. And you are so full of pretty words, as always..."
and then tugs on a piece of his hair. "And not a single thought behind them. " because she is not stupid! she can see you moping!! and in fact, she'll let the silence rest for a moment after this correct accusation, and then add, "You're wearing black nail polish." ]
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not a single thought, she accuses, and his tail flicks once, almost in protest. but he doesn't argue. his eyes are on the growing black hole in the middle of the room. if he reached out, he could probably touch it.
but her observation gets him to pause. ]
... Therion left it behind. [ he says, finally. it's kind of pathetic. ] I haven't... heard from him. I don't expect to.
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"Yes, I thought as much." first, because jiaoqiu does not seem like an emo kid like therion does. she does not say this, but she does think it, and after the pause, she watches jiaoqiu's distant staring for a long moment, and mentally ratshakes therion because this has to be his fault.
"It's been some time, even for him." primrose starts, after a moment, weight behind her phrasing, because she knows him, too. primrose would see therion maybe once every few months, before his arrival with jiaoqiu, but the stretches were down to mere days, and he'd stay for weeks at a time. he left much more behind than just a bottle of nail polish. there's another soft sigh. "Will you tell me what happened? Or shall I guess." ]
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... I am a shackle. [ he says, softer, staring out across the room. ] I suggested that I find an apartment here. I invited him to live with me, and of course he wasn't interested. He won't need to play house any longer.
[ it's been like this from the start - he's always felt bad tying his chain to therion, because by nature therion was not someone who would be happy or satisfied with being stagnant in one place. he shouldn't have mentioned it. ]
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"... typical." yeah, that sounds about right. though, she glances down at jiaoqiu, pausing in her braiding, her voice as soft as always. "And did you believe him, when he said those things?" ]
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a beat. jiaoqiu wrenches his gaze away from the room to look up at her. ]
I don't know what else to do, Primrose. [ he just sounds very tired. defeated. ] He won't say the words. What else am I supposed to think, when everything he says suggests I'm a burden to him?
[ not his actions, though. jiaoqiu knows, somewhere, that actions speak louder than words, and he knows the type of person therion is, but he's gotten to the end of the feeble self worth he's got. eventually, that's going to start telling him that he should stop reading love into how therion acts, no matter how genuine it is. ]
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"Let me tell you a story." primrose says, softly. "Once, Therion and I traveled together with a companion who was a pox on womankind. That man was, by far, the most charming man that I have ever known, and he meant every word of what he said - only, he never quite understood why women fell at his feet. Therion thought to laugh, when I scolded him for it.
However, he was no better. I said that the two of them together, combined, could make the perfect gentleman. One who communicates too much - and the other, who seems to assume that the other party will understand his intentions without saying a single word at all."
there's a notable pause for effect as she finishes what she's saying - a bit of amusement to the story, lightly told despite it's meaning. "A problem you're familiar with. Though...I wonder if it sounds familiar for more reason that one...?" ]
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no, the meaning is clear, he knows she's getting at him for not communicating clearly either. he leans into the hands a little because it's... well, he didn't realize how touch-starved he was until he had all the touch in the world. it makes him feel a little more grounded, and that's why, at the end of the story she tells, he's a bit pouty. just a little. mostly mollified, though, because it's nice to know that he's not insane. silence, for a moment, and then: ]
I thought I made myself clear enough. [ he did not. he just expected i love you to do all the work. and to be fair, it was a monumental thing, but. y'know.
he slumps down into her lap, ears pinned back tightly against his skull. ]
... I don't know where he is.
[ so even if he wanted to try, which he doesn't because he's a baby, he can't. probably. ]
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anyway. as he slumps down, the more honest answers are sort of what she was looking for, and primrose continues to stroke through his hair, smiling a little at the pout on his face, though the last part earns a soft click of her tongue.
"Give me a few days." which is like, terrifying sounding and therion sneezes somewhere where he's also sulking, but it really just means she's going to reach out to cordelia, because if anyone knows where therion is, it's going to be her, but jiaoqiu doesn't need to know that right now. "I'd like to have a word with him myself."
there's a brief pause, and after a moment, primrose sets her hand down on his head and leaves it there, and her brow knits together. and then, a little softer: "...Do you want to try to find him, or not, Jiaoqiu?" ]
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she says give me a few days and here's the thing - he believes she can find him, wherever the hell he went. primrose is a force of nature, and though he doesn't know it, so is cordelia.
but. he sits with that question for a moment, eyes closed, ears still pinned back. does he? does he want to face potential heartbreak? does he want to hold out his hand one more time, get bit again, have to wade through all of the moats and climb all the defenses and still, possibly, be told that he's wasting his time? does he want to risk all of that, for a chance to bring therion back home?
he looks down at his hand. at his nails, at the horrible paint job. ]
... Yes. [ he says, finally, voice small. he does. ]
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the expression on her face softens a little, then slides into a smile, and she says, confident and simple - "Then, I'll find him."
as simple as that. jiaoqiu has done quite a bit for her here - as someone who also had precious few friendships in her life, each one that she cultivates is tender and important. much like therion, she held her heart out and had it shattered to pieces, and found years later that the emptiness vengeance left behind was only somewhat filled by the company and kindness of the people she came to care for. so many people who come through these doors are like her, like therion, like jiaoqiu - fundamentally broken people, who still find ways to fit their rough edges together.
so. she'll find that little rat thief, who she loves dearly, for jiaoqiu, who she loves dearly. let someone else have a chance at something - miscommunication is far more fixable than dishonesty.
running her fingers through his bangs, she then pulls her hand away and gives his cheek a little pat. "And the two of you will talk to each other, or there will be consequences." this is a threat. "In the meantime, stay with me this evening, and stop wallowing in that bedroom, at least for a night."
one night of platonic friend cuddles before shit hits the fan ]
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i'll find him, she says, and he's quiet, but he can hear the chatter outside of the private room. he's a little cold. he's a little hungry. there's the low drone of a fan nearby, and the smell of dinner still lingering out in the hall. when he shifts, the bed is comfortable and warm underneath him. he feels it, when she pats his face. and there's a warmth, a thawing in his chest, at being asked to stay.
he does. he wants to. being alone isn't good for him, as good at it as he is. the dancers can giggle all they want about it, he doesn't care - jiaoqiu wants nothing more than to spend the night here with her, with someone who cares enough about both him and therion to intervene. he's bony, but he's good at cuddling, and he's very appropriate with how he does it. she's safe with him.
and somewhere in there, he presses a very gentle kiss to her forehead and gives her a simple thank you, because sometimes you are an idiot who needs someone to whack you on the head and remind you to keep trying.
sorry to primrose for what comes next honestly, lord ]
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a few more days pass in that way - peaceful, relatively. quiet. primrose reaches out to cordelia, who then sends heathcote out, and no one can find therion quite like heathcote can because they are the same kind of rat person. he reports his findings to cordelia, who brings them to primrose, and she informs jiaoqiu before his shift that evening that she knows where therion is. the town of northreach - it's an ice cold, tiny town high up in the mountains, but only a few hours away by car. doable.
when primrose hands the information over, there's something visible in her eyes - worry, it looks like, molded over easily by many years of keeping a straight face, but. cordelia said she was worried about therion, based on what heathcote said, and she passes that message along, too. take care, she says, shooing him away from doing any work, and sending him right on his way.
arriving in northreach, the town itself is Bleak. this place seems pretty rough - there's sort of an aura of fear that permeates through the main streets themselves. it's inhabited by all manners, at least, and no one looks strangely at a foxian no matter how pink he is, but there's something almost oppressive about the air here. the town itself isn't too big, either. there's a huge church, a few neighborhoods, a few stores, and a couple of bars. no sign of therion, but he'd never be out in the open, anyway, so that's not too worrying. any attempt to ping his phone is met with no response. ]
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jiaoqiu is not terrible at seeking. it was never his job in the military, nor was it his specialty when he worked for feixiao. but he learned a thing or two from moze, and he learned a thing or two from tracking moze, so he takes that and puts it to use.
when he enters northreach, he pulls his several layers closer, feeling more cold than usual, and starts looking. the church, he stays away from. he's not interested in it and he doubts therion would be either, so it's a last resort. the stores he checks first, peeking around for any trace of purple, looking for signs. he doesn't ask people so much if they've seen therion because therion is a professional - he imagines nobody will have seen him at all. instead, he listens. tries to see if people have had anything stolen lately. and if he can't find anything there, he'll scoot by the bars to try and find anything suspicious at all.
the aura of fear in this place is a little overwhelming. he numbs himself out a bit, exploring. ]
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there's no sign of therion, but jiaoqiu's wisely not surprised by it. the people here seem very skittish - for the most part, residents keep to themselves, muttering to each other, while others seem to strut around like they own the place, laughing and carousing loudly as the other residents scurry away. a town of cats and mice, it seems.
there's a lot of talk about things going missing here. there's some kind of traveling shop owner complaining at one of the locals - I turned my back for one second, and all my goods were gone! Is someone going to do something about this? - as the local person shakes her head, pats the merchant on the arm, and says there's no point. No law here, at least for that kind of thing.
but strangely enough, as he's numbing out and approaching one of the bars, he finds it to be fairly full of a bunch of those rowdier types. the bartender, a surly looking guy, glances at jiaoqiu when he walks in and then goes back to work. nothing about that is particularly odd, but what is odd is on the wall, there's a wanted poster hanging on the wall. handmade, with a sketch of a young man in a scarf with his bangs falling over his eye. ]
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jiaoqiu is not necessarily out of place in a bar, but in a rowdy one full of rough and tumble types, a delicate pink foxian in a cardigan and slacks probably looks like he doesn't belong. he ignores the bartender and the rest of the patrons to wander over to the wall, and - if possible - reaches up and takes the wanted poster off the wall. there he is. he's been here. ]
What did you do to find yourself on one of these? [ he murmurs to himself, ears pinning back slightly. he stares down at the poster for a while, taking in the details, taking in how much he's wanted for, and then turns to go right up to the bartender. shoves the poster in his face, because with the amount of numb he is right now, he has absolutely no fear. maybe he looks out of place, but with his calm smile and lidded eyes, he definitely has Presence. ]
How recent is this?
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