No one can control us.xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
┌“Sweet boy,
When you screamed your failures
Were you not aware that monsters
don’t question their moralities?┘
☤
Sweet boy,
When you look to the stars for forgiveness
you do not believe you deserve,
Do you not feel me weep for you?
☤
┌Sweet boy,
Your heart is pure
and your fight is not yet over.
tomorrow you may weep ┘
➣H O M E ▪ Unfortunately, the world where Feiyi lives is nothing comparable to that of their once-home of Isethef. Rather, they live in both a nothingness and everything. This place seems to exist outside of time and space itself, similar to a hidden pocket on a coat, where one with deft hands, or godly powers, can rip apart the seams to store what needs to be kept away, only to sew it back up. Their home is often described, upon first glance, to be a rather small and homely place which rests atop a large strip of grassy land that, in the spring, bares a meadow of flowers, and is home to an assortment of rabbits. The cabin is very rustic, but once entering the building, the rustic feeling is replaced by the aura of pure ostentatious living. The furniture is even gilded with a strange, purple, almost metallic in nature sheen; the light it emits is not blinding, rather it is a soft glow that casts along the walls and floor of the building, and only comes from the furniture. Feiyi appears not to notice this light either, in fact, if asked, Feiyi would have no clue about this purple glow. The home, although ostentatious, is fairly standard in terms of rooms. There are four floors to the home; the basement, the ground floor, the first floor, and the attic.
The basement is a single, well kept and free of mold or dust, and, in truth, is rarely used by Feiyi himself. Stored here are barrels, an archaic method of holding foods and drink, filled to the brim of preservable food; primarily cheeses, wines, ales, and grains. This supply of food and drink never seems to run out, nor face the hardships or decay that would typically come with age. There are, notably, piles of books stored in the farthest corner of the basement; these books are those that Feiyi tired himself of, primarily consisting of religious, academic, and romantic texts. It seems whatever has bored Feiyi, or rather, the things that he can not stomach, or has memorized to the point of repeating the text blinded and strung upside down, often ends up making home within the basement.
The ground floor is exceptionally typical, where one may find an assortment of rooms: the kitchen, the lounge, a guest room now re-purposed as a work room, and a living room. These rooms typically cast a faint purple glow across the furniture, walls, and ceilings, although the sight is often ignored by Feiyi; Feiyi gives very little acknowledgement to anything unusual on this floor, although he has no need to point out the unusual stature of existence when there is no one else to question it. The kitchen is littered in potted plants, ranging from succulents to cacti, and appears to lack any real food beyond frozen meats and frozen fruits; the lounge itself itself has an assortment of child toys strewn about, covered in a thick layer of dust, and forgotten, as it appears Feiyi hardly ever enters the lounge anymore; the living room is sealed off, the entrances covered by thick comforters taped to the frames, and the odd smell of sugary sweets often wafts from the sealed room. The work room is the most commonly used; the room is decorated in yellow stained parchment papers, blue and black ink wells, fountain pens, and books. It would appear the work room is used for research, and has seen the most use; tucked away in a corner is a small leather recliner, weathered from use and age, and piled graciously with pillows and blankets, it seems Feiyi has a tendency to sleep in the work room, whether for the smell of ink and paper or the need to keep a watchful eye on his possessions, would be the topic of discussion another time.
The first floor is dusty, older than the rest of the house, and seemingly forgotten about by Feiyi. The rooms are closed off, locked by an obscure key he long forgotten where he's stashed it, or if he's even had the key to open the doors to begin with; in fact, he has no memory of ever being in one of the first floor rooms, and often he gains a melancholic sadness each time he finds himself wandering the halls of the upper floor, testing each doorknob with the faint hopes that they will, for the first time he thinks, open, revealing all that he has forgotten, and all that he will know. Of course, those thoughts are just a childish silliness, an excuse to a forgotten and lost key. While many of these doors are locked, it's not wrong to assume the floor consists of the following rooms: the main bedroom, a bathroom, a childhood bedroom, and closet space. It should be noted that the childhood bedroom is the only door found on the first floor capable of opening, albeit with some force; the space itself is emptier than it looks. Many of the wall decorations have been taken down, clothes tossed out, and items packed away, moved to the ground floor, or discarded completely. As time passed, the space seems more of a glorified relic to the past with a spare bed that smells strongly of mothballs and lavender; the room itself is even kept at a similar mess as when Feiyi was a child, still using the room.
The attic is a single room, filled with nothing but trinkets that Feiyi has stolen from broken pockets of time. There is no organization to the room, as Feiyi tosses these objects above to forget about later, and has rarely retrieved anything once it has been placed within the attic. The items themselves seem completely random, ranging from snapped pencils to golden cups. In truth, the attic has no purpose beyond a glorified storage room, littered with relics of the past, present, and future, forgotten by Feiyi.
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔➣L I V E L I H O O D▪ To be aware of the past, the present, and the future, to be able to step outside oneself and the world, and look upon existence with dull eyes, and find the desire a burning ember within your chest to change that which displeases you; it drives Feiyi to exhaustion, for the task is an impossible livelihood, but one that certainly keeps him busy. The work is a load most would shun away, to see a burden placed upon the shoulders of Feiyi on purpose, but the burden was intentional on Feiyis part.
To be clear on this job, Feiyi is to serve himself, and twist what he likes, and mold what he does not. He ties the lives of those who should never know of each other together, often branching worlds, and even universes, to bring knowledge to the few he has chosen worthy, or has recognized as helpful towards a particular goal. The goal varies from person to person, but Feiyi believes all of the work will come together to further his brothers needs; he hopes, too, though he would never delude himself into truly believing the thought, that someone would be lucky enough to find a way to release him from the out of world isolation he finds himself in.
Manipulation is not all he does; Feiyi has set himself a routine for his home, and the land outside of it. There are towering trees behind the house, always blooming with fruit, almost daily Feiyi tends to spend hours picking the fruit, taking it to the kitchen to be stored or cooked. He has an affinity for cooking, able to spend as much or as little time, and finds that food can be a great comfort to him; he is quite fond of making jams, having quite a many jam jar stored randomly around the home, in nooks and crannies that would go unnoticed in the soft lights. While fruit grows, Feiyi also has a small garden nestled deeper into the gentle woodland, growing an assortment of earthy vegetables, primarily starchy ones. He must make up for the lack of meat, using eggplants and potatoes as a substitute for meats and fish. While tending to his garden, Feiyi often forgets the worries of life, and his second head takes control of thoughts for the time.
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