a great escape;

[loong]

[ this planet.. is a tranquil one. lonely, but peaceful. there are no intelligent species here, but that is, perhaps, for the best - dan feng's penance continues, after all. in escaping the luofu he was not attempting to escape general punishment, only the molting rebirth. fear of losing himself, of losing his memories, his sense of self..

perhaps it made him a coward, to flee, but warm memories are all he has now, and he could not bear to part with them just yet.

so here he waits, alone in his own beautiful purgatory, awaiting the end of his days, nursing his ailing mind, existing in torment and in bliss in equal measure. his hatching rebirth will come in time, and only then, perhaps, will he be free of his sin, or at the very least, free of his pain. the crime of the previous life must be atoned for in the next, but.. his memories of the quintet would vanish, save for in dreams, and his reincarnation could live on.

it's a lush, lovely planet, where he has escaped to, slowly orbiting the glowing deep of a black hole, where time, for him, runs more slowly, dragging out like a string of sticky molasses. there are thick forests and vast wetlands, eighty percent of this world is water, and there is no sign that intelligent life has ever existed here. no ruins. no scrawled paintings in caves. no hidden chambers beneath the seas. three hundred years he has spent combing the globe and found nothing to suggest that anyone but he has walked the earth here. only animals. insects. fish. they make decent company, but dan feng still keeps to himself, living out of a modest shelter built near the water's edge.

three hundred years, and he speaks to no one, says nothing, until the day the majestic luofu blots out the light of the diffracting black hole.

the sight of it stills his heart in his breast, and dan feng finds his throat running dry, but when the small starskiff lands he is standing quietly, watchful and calm, the tip of his tail swaying behind him as he watches jing yuan disembark, resplendent in his general's clothing. he takes a deep breath.. releases it. ]

.. you must have been very keen to find me, to brave the dangers of the black hole.

[ for time.. time is a precious thing, every hour he spends here could be a year on the luofu. ]

Comments

[liongeneral]

[Just paper and a pen... It sounds so ominous but he does not refute. He simply leads the way to his office, through the halls of his home. The office he resides in is one of the larger rooms in the home. Suited for comfort with large open windows and a door that leads to the garden beyond. Finches sit on the sill and begin to twitter and flutter about with excitement at the sight of him.

One even flies right in to land on his shoulder.

For now the feathered friend goes ignored as Jing Yuan rifles through the drawers to get what was requested. He lays out the blank sheets and ink and pens and then steps away from the desk.]

As requested...

[He's not sure where to leave it after that... Does Dan Feng intend to stay? To abide by the clear rules about needing to stay until the Express is rumored closer? Or... Is this letter some final farewell and he'll disappear never to be seen again without a word goodbye.

He does not know and the emotional weight of this entire interaction is reaching a breaking point. So he departs from the room, leaving Dan Feng to his writing, and into the garden. Easing the chirping of his feathered friends as they excitedly descend and make their usual roosts on his person.

He does not stray far from the door to his office. Past the wooden deck where the chessboard lies mid game. And past the cushioned seating which is usually perfect for napping. He opts, instead, for beneath the gingko trees that grow in his garden. A, perhaps, ominous thing to have growing for the long life species. But they did not always mean such dark things to the people of the Xianzhou. They used to mean hope and strength and resilience where the leaves represented healing and longevity... He does not mind sitting beneath their boughs.

So that is where he rest for now, back pressed up against the trunk in a way that makes his capes catch and legs splayed out onto the soft grass.

It's comfortable enough despite the stifling feeling of his armor. All the small discomforts feel amplified with the ache in his heart. Of old memories tightening around his neck like thorny vines. Each barb feels poisonous and he's been pricked dozens of times over at this rate... It's weighing on him. The long parade of friends like a funeral procession.

The little bird trills a sad note, catching his attention and he brings the one on his hand up, letting it rub its feathered self against his face.]

This too shall pass, little one...

[Tomorrow will come regardless and whatever will be will be. For all his power he can't turn back time. He can't stop his old friends from fighting and he can't fix their mistakes or make them love him in the way he once desired... still desires.

The sting of tears is noted but not indulged... Not yet. There is a time and place for such things.]