#;; xiao chiye speaks to qi zhuyin ;;

[mvsicinthedvrk]

hwevent17 starter for xiao chiye & qi zhuyin // @masqce

“Qi Zhuyin,” Chiye calls out to get her attention, as soon as he catches sight of her. She might have been able to best Jiming while sparring, but that’s an entirely separate set of skills than actually actually surviving an assassination attempt. Making it through the hellish Halloween maze without dying was one point in her favor, and his as well, but-- still a completely different scenario. One person versus an unknown threat, though, isn't as promising as two people versus two potentially unknown threats. He can trust her to watch his back, and he can watch hers in return. "The closest thing to a weapon of self defense I have on me is a fountain pen," he admits frankly. "So I hope you have something better."

[mvsicinthedvrk]

spotify meme starter for zhuyin & chiye // @masqce

Reclining in his booth in the VIP section, Chiye glances over the rope to the public section of the bar to see none other than his brother's friend approaching this direction. "Don't say you're on my list, you know you're fucking not," he calls out lazily, before waving to the security guard so she can pass through anyway; he assumes she doesn't have clearance for VIP on her own, and would be surprised if he was wrong. But it's not as though this section is crowded, and they might get along, if she can manage to avoid smacking him this time or treating him like Jiming's kid brother.

( song #91, sitting alone in the vip by alaska thunderfuck and kandy muse )

[mvsicinthedvrk]

discord starter call, xiao chiye & qi zhuyin for @masqce

"Do you want to explain what all that was about in the maze?" he demands, striding towards the other woman immediately upon seeing her when they meet after the catastrophe has solidly concluded. His feet boldly apart, he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for an answer, though his impatience doesn't allow him to remain silent long enough for her to give one, instead adding-- "I'll take an apology for that smack whenever you're ready." No one's rarely shown him that level of disrespect, and while the novelty of it means the offense is forgivable, he needs to make clear that it will not happen again.

[mvsicinthedvrk]

Chiye won't deny her accusation of having had judgmental undertones; but look, now he knows that the judgment wasn't necessary. Because now if his elder brother ever asks, he can fill Jiming in on the fact that Zhuyin does have some kind of job here. He makes a note to stop by the older woman's workplace for lessons sooner rather than later, though he'll have to actually schedule a firm date in his calendar if he ever wants it to become a reality rather than a hypothetical thought for the future. He has a feeling he'll be good at it; how could he not be, when he is good at most physical activities he's tried? "Yeah, right," he says, dismissing her notion that he's having some kind of 'memory' issue. His forgetfulness is the average, or less than the average, amount of any man. However, on a daily basis he does say a lot of things, and it's likely that he had in fact offered to share a meal with her at one point or another. "I think I can manage to treat my elder to a meal. But I'm choosing where." He doesn't have the patience to explore whether or not Zhuyin has terrible taste in restaurants, and if she's really as starving as she says she is, she'd better not complain.

                         “Yes,” Zhuyin confirms, unbothered by the simplified description of her job, “like some kind of fight coach.” In any case, it is a fairly accurate way to describe most of her time spent at the studio. But other than just fighting, there is a lot more that comes into play when teaching martial arts to her students here. Discipline, fitness, resilience, just to name a few. And that’s not even counting the philosophy parts (that she often rather skip as well). She’ll concede, though, just this once. “I suppose that’s fair,” she admits willingly. “Of course, you could have done without the judgmental undertones, but I’ll pretend I never heard a thing.” It’s up to him whether or not he actually takes the invite seriously; by now, she’s invited him often enough. “Anyway, I am starving. I know you’re having some issues with your memories, but, surely, you do remember offering to treat me to a meal the other day?��� 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

That's a simpler answer than he thought it would be, and his brow furrows in consideration. "Like some kind of fight coach?" Chiye hadn't been aware she was a professional at it, or did that kind of work for a primary income. But that would make sense, he supposes, that she wouldn't consider it a job, since there's probably no desks to be found there-- and it would be more fun than responsibility. "I didn't think it was a fraud, I just didn't know that was your actual occupation-- so you can't blame me for asking," he adds with self-assuredness, half-sure that she'll find some way to needle him about it regardless.

                         Not all jobs do, that is correct, and frankly, Zhuyin is convinced that another version of Chiye may have argued that very few jobs should tie you to a desk. Which is exactly why it’s ironic for him to be defending the need to be behind one every so often, after already implying her lack of a(n actual) job prior to that. Zhuyin listens to the younger with interest, as though taking her time to consider the truth of those words. In the meantime, Ce’an doesn’t appear to have given her words the same treatment; apparently, he’ll only hear what he wants to hear. “I’m an instructor,” she points out (again) in all seriousness, “I provide training sessions. Or did you think my invite was a fraud?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"Not all jobs tie you to a desk," he points out, before adding with a slightly preemptive note of defense in his voice: "I have a desk, but I barely sit behind it." Not that she'd insulted the action-- not directly-- but maybe it's the acknowledgement that a lot of his work is done in his office, which is arguably the least interesting place to spend his time, that makes him immediately want to argue the opposite. When it comes to questioning Qi Zhuyin's career, though, he doesn't get a straight answer. She has to have some way of making money, unless she was lucky in being able to live off of family wealth; though most parents, he imagines, wouldn't stand for that. He prods again, "You seriously don't work at all?"

                         Chiye’s so serious about not taking her seriously, it’s impossible not to quip back immediately. “Have you not been paying attention?” she poses, reprimanding him in earnest. “In case you’ll need to defend yourself from a pencil-stabber or wish to strike an umbrella-carrier with a pen, it is of grave importance to keep up with our weekly training schedule.” The latter of which does exist; for actual training in combat and martial arts. But there’s no need to give him a sincere answer, Zhuyin thinks, when he’s still walking a mile next to his own shoes. “If by ‘actual job’ you mean sitting behind a desk all day,” she initiates, her answer already clear, “then no, I’m afraid I am ‘actually’ jobless.” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

It's useless to expect anything less than a nonsense answer from her, it seems. And though her comment about running drills for such a thing is clearly a joke, he can't help but state bluntly, "I can't think of a single situation where that would be a useful skill." If it weren't clearly a joke, he would be too busy anyway for something so worthless; he only has limited free time, given all the shit he has to do at the office on a daily basis. Which makes him wonder-- "Do you even have an actual job?" She must, everyone does, but Chiye can't remember ever hearing what it was.

                         “You could’ve used the element of surprise to your advantage, had you not been restrained by your own good manners,” Zhuyin countered in mock admiration. And then, she laughs again, not questioning the sincerity of his statement. At least he’s self-aware enough to realise that he had been the one to start this nonsense— that should count as a point in his favor. But his indignant remark is just as funny, and Zhuyin doesn’t even bother to try and keep a straight face when she counters: “Yes, my army of umbrella-stabbers. We practice every Thursday evening, at 7 pm sharp. You’re welcome to join one of our training sessions if you wish to— I’m sure you could benefit from the practice!” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"I figured we would finish the conversation before I tear into it." His tone doesn't lack any confidence that he can manage the task; though he's also equally unsurprised that for some reason she expected him to launch a false attack at her mid-chat. "I'm aware that you're mocking me, and I'll allow it, since I started it first," Chiye informs her. The 'mathematical prodigy' comment was entertaining, even if it was at his expense; the 'leading her own army' one, less so, mostly because it doesn't follow from anything he's mentioned, and he huffs to indicate his lack of amusement. "I won't even pretend that one's funny. Army of what, umbrella-stabbers?"

                         Washington's Chiye must have learned how to see right through her, as Zhuyin indeed bursts into laughter at his indignant reproval. Not to make fun of him (or at least not entirely to make fun of him), but because she finds herself to be genuinely amused by his attitude. And also, because this level of confidence is unwarranted. “Assuming you can wreck my umbrella,” she corrects him, her grin bright, “but so far, my umbrella is in perfect shape, and all I’ve heard are excuses.” Besides— she has quite a few memories of both the past and the present that could argue this claim of a “mature and responsible” attitude. “Almost a hundred years ago— you’re right! A true mathematical prodigy!” Zhuyin expresses fondly, laying her words on thick. “I still remember the good old days… Twenty-three, huh? When I was your age, I was already leading my own army.” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"Yes, in a hypothetical life-threatening situation, not just for the hell of it," he tells her with a scoff tinged with arrogance. At this point, he's half-certain she'll either laugh or make fun of him no matter what he says; he doesn't know why he puts up with it. (If it's because she's a good distraction from feeling melancholy about the continued too-long absence from seeing his older brother, he won't admit it.) "Mature, responsible." he answers. Someone who doesn't get dead-drunk in public, or make too-impulsive decisions, or act like a rich, spoiled brat. Standard maturity-related expectations. He doesn't always succeed at meeting them, but he tries more often than not, especially since his family name's on the line nowadays. He does admittedly try more around an audience that matters. "Not someone who wrecks an umbrella for no good reason. You should know how I'm supposed to act, weren't you twenty three about a hundred years ago?"

                         “You’re the one who said it’d be easy to stab through my umbrella with a pen,” Zhuyin counters airily, left unimpressed by his observation— accusation? Chiye’s disbelief makes it hard for her to keep a straight face, her amusement betrayed by a subtle twitch at the corners of her lips. Whether serious or not, Chiye’s spending far too much time mulling over his options. As she watches him, the general cannot help but to wonder what’s going on inside of the younger’s head, certain that any other day, he would’ve accepted the challenge without a beat, no matter how ridiculous. And then, when he finally speaks up, and he still doesn’t have an answer, her restraint breaks, her grin cracking. “And what is a 23-year-old supposed to act like, according to their handbook?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"You're not being serious," Chiye clarifies, in dry disbelief that she would really challenge him to such a thing. But the older woman is hard to read; he can't tell when she's joking and when she's being genuine. Logically, surely no one in their right mind would make him earn lessons by trying to get ink on them. But then again, this is Qi Zhuyin, who seems to take joy in making his life difficult even if the heart of the reward is very much to his benefit, which he does appreciate, despite being annoyed. If that's the challenge, he'll do it! But he's also not in the business of making himself look a fool for no reason, so he doesn't want to lunge at her with his pen if she's only teasing. "I've often gotten told to act my age, why is it that you keep influencing me to do the opposite."

                         Complaints, grumbling, an overall sour mood: it’s almost as though they’re back to where they’d started in Washington, only without the arrogant edge to Chiye’s voice (or at least a milder variant of it). She’s almost certain that catching him off guard, rattling him, must have hurt his pride and thus led to this show of defiance. It’s alright— Zhuyin finds her pleasure in believing that he will retrieve his memories one day, and likely will be begging her to forgive him when the time comes. “It’s not my problem if you don’t carry an umbrella— that’s your own responsibility,” the female points out matter-of-factly, complaint disregarded. Ironically, for all the issues he seems to have with her methods, Chiye’s eager to remind her of the birthday present that she did still owe him. Momentarily forgotten as a consequence of the chaos, though Zhuyin would be happy to grant the favor immediately. “If you and your pen can manage to get ink on me before I disarm you with my umbrella, I’ll even teach you every week, for as long as you’d like. You can stab through my umbrella with the pen, can’t you?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

Chiye valiantly holds back an eye roll at the older woman's joy about startling him. People normally don't sneak up on others on purpose, so he can't be blamed for being surprised. "I could stab through an umbrella with that pen, so I don't think it'd be as good of a shield as you're making it out to be. Besides, I don't carry an umbrella," he points out. If he's going to bother learning some more defense, he'd rather practice with something he'd be certain to have on him. Speaking of which: "You told me you were going to teach me how to spar, and you never did. If that's the case, you still owe me a birthday present." Only since she'd offered, and it'd be disappointing not to follow through.

                           Sneaking up on him had been intentional, but that doesn’t mean she’d expected to be quite so successful at startling Chiye. Zhuyin doesn’t even bother hiding her delight, her attempt at feigning innocence a mediocre one at best. “You’ve been paying attention,” she proudly notes, purposely mistaking his sarcasm for genuine gratitude. And he should be grateful; they are useful tips. This city is more unpredictable than any other place she’s been, and with Chiye’s martial skills currently being subpar, he would do well to always be prepared. “Great. Next time, I’ll teach you how to defend yourself with other everyday objects. An umbrella makes for a decent enough shield, and a reasonably powerful weapon.” Of sorts. He’d still be better off fighting bare-handed; she knows the younger could beat up most anyone if he set his mind to it. The memories may be lacking, but the skills must still be in there, somewhere. Her confidence in him is unwavering, which is why she’s surprised to hear him complain (whether or not he means it). “I instructed you to fight with a fountain pen,” Zhuyin remarks drily, “what part of that makes you believe I have no faith in you?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

Not paying much attention to his surroundings-- because he hadn't seen the need to-- Chiye startles when Zhuyin's voice comes from directly behind him. "A little warning," he requests intently, once his heartbeat returns to its normal rate. He's certain she must have done that on purpose, but since he's relieved to see her well and grinning, he forgives her. This time. "Sure, I've loved learning what daily office supplies can be used to fatally injure someone. The next time someone questions my decisions at work, it's over for them." There's clear enough sarcasm in his voice that he doesn't feel the need to clarify that it's a joke. "But it sounds like you had such little confidence in me, I don't think that's fair."

( transitioning! )

                                 So Ce’an had been worried about her— the thought of that had been quite amusing to Zhuyin, for more than just one reason. First, because she was more than capable of fending for herself. Even back in Dazhou, where the pair of them had known each other ever since Chiye was born, she highly doubted the man would worry about her for even a second. And here— well, they supposedly had only met a few months ago. To see the man concerning himself over her wellbeing was… odd, yet amusing, as well as vaguely endearing. Zhuyin doesn’t announce her presence when she spots Chiye on the other side of the road, his mind seemingly elsewhere. Instead, she quietly stalks up to him, only greeting him when she’s already right behind him. “Found you,” she quips, grinning. “And I'm glad to see you’re still alive. That pen turned out to be more useful than expected, huh?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"I went to your apartment and you weren't there. You've been here long enough to know how large this city is, that's why I'm surprised I managed to find you," he shoots back. Chiye knows his brother will be supremely upset if he finds out his good friend ended up dead, that's why he's out here, to avoid that potential future-- and he himself would admittedly be upset about it just as much-- even though Zhuyin seems more prepared for this ongoing violent scenario than he does, for some reason. "You don't want to know how long it took me. Can we go? It's brutal out here, and I don't want to have to test your pen method."

                                  Zhuyin’s only mildly surprised that Chiye manages to misinterpret such an obvious gesture, though she’d doesn’t make a point out of correcting him. In fact, she’s positive her voice alone would be enough to fend off half of these potential attackers— the rest, she had other ways of dealing with. The current situation is far of an ideal one, but it isn’t remotely close to being as bad or dangerous as the wars that had been fought back in Dazhou. More unpredictable, sure, but she had yet to find someone who knew how to handle themselves. It is the one reason Zhuyin listens to the younger with a faint hint of amusement ghosting at the corners of her lips; with his memories, the lack of a proper weapon would have been the last thing to hold Chiye back. “If you were out here to find me,” she points out, after he finally seems to be done venting, “how come you’re so surprised to actually find me here?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

The woman's answer about when she'd last seen his brother is unhelpful, but it at least sets the vague timeline of 'a few years ago.' He also doesn't see what's so funny about his statement, giving her a heavy side-eye when she bursts out laughing. "You don't have a phone number," he repeats dryly, unamused as he puts his phone away, there clearly being no use in bringing it out in the first place. What, has she gone that seriously off the grid as to not have a phone, even for emergencies? The next time he speaks to Jiming, he'll have to ask him what the woman's deal is. It's not as though Chiye's glued to his technology by any means-- but nowadays, a person can't do without it, even if just for the sake of having access to his email when he's away from his office. "Fine. I guess I'll never see or hear from you again, since we won't have a way of contacting each other otherwise." There's always his business address here that he could give her, but if she hasn't noticed the very prominent name, that's her own fault. It doesn't take him any further prompting before he adds, "If you ever finally decide to join regular society, this is my number--" and rattles off his phone number anyway.

                     “it seems that your memory is in even worse of a state than i’d initially thought,” zhuyin countered with a smile, unimpressed by his apparent need to remind her of this fact every five minutes, “so i’ll be so kind to remind you that you have already made that clear. twice.” even if he did not remember her, there was no need for chiye to disregard her words so curtly; she’d only offered him more details. if he did not care to hear them, he could at least have the decency not to make it obvious. zhuyin knows she can’t exactly blame him for it; but it’s still frustrating when what little she has left of home refuses to budge. or— she may have spoken too soon. in spite of his cold ‘i don’t remember you’, it seemed the brotherly bond was still strong enough to edge on his curiosity.

“it’s been a while,” the general replied vaguely, “three years? four? it could have been five.” she’s almost grateful for chiye’s next attempt at berating her, finding it to be a good diversion and reason to burst out laughing. abuse— was it really, when her actions hadn’t just been called for, but xiao chiye was, or should be, perfectly capable of defending himself? if he were to remember her later, she’d make sure to never let him live it down. “alright, alright. i won’t be hitting you again,” the female promised, lips curled into a pleased smile. it doesn’t last all too long; confusion surfaces in dark eyes, even if the smile has yet to falter completely. “my number?” for a moment, the request does not click. the unfamiliar device in his hands is one she’d seen plenty in the past few days, yet hadn’t gotten the chance to inquire about. hastily, she adds the most truthful and least suspicious answer she can think of: “i don’t have one.” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"I don't remember you," he says, dismissing her evaluations of his childhood personality. Whether she believes he was headstrong as a kid is irrelevant (though he'd have to admit that she would be right). The fact remains that his brother has had a lot of friends, though if they were truly as close as she's making it out to seem, he likely would have placed her face already. Maybe it had only been one of the years that Chiye had been occupied with building his own group of friends instead of trailing after his older brother every hour of the day; that's the only explanation he can cobble together that would make sense, and that would match the period of time he had ended up being the most troublesome. "...When did you part ways with Jiming?" He imagines it was likely around the time his brother went to university or thereabouts. Clearly the woman had lost contact with him at some point, or she wouldn't be living here without his brother telling him to reach out to a friend of his if he'd known they were both living in the same place. He shrugs at her name, which is as unfamiliar as her face. "Qi Zhuyin? No bells rung. I'll remember it in the future. Although just because you know my brother doesn't mean you can abuse me however you want. Don't hit me again," he warns seriously, before pulling out his phone to put her in as a contact. "Add your number-- or don't."

                     jiming! the sound of his name should not have been a relief to her, seeing as she had already confirmed chiye's identity. however, since the younger had no recollection of her, nor ding tao, it is a bit unexpected to hear him mention his brother with such genuine anticipation. that’s not to say it isn’t strange. if jiming was here with him, that must mean his memories had also taken a blow, or else, how had both of them been able to live their lives in ignorance? and that was only if jiming had actually come here with his brother: he may just as well be a remnant of his memories. the pair of them had always had an unbreakable bond, it would make sense for one’s memories to hold on to the strongest part of it. but then— ugh. trying to put the pieces together had started to give her a headache; one theory more complicated than the next, and each theory with new flaws. if only qi wei had been here, perhaps he could have shone a different light on the situation. resisting the urge to press palms against her temples, the female decides to hone in on what she can work with, “know him? we’ve been friends ever since we were kids. i was there to see you grow up. you were as headstrong then as you are now, always getting into trouble.” it’s not an accusation— the words are layered with amusement and fondness; not unlike an older sister. they had been good days, with far lighter burdens to carry than they did now. “i hadn’t said. my name is qi zhuyin,” the female emphasizes, almost as though the name should be a threat, “does that still not ring any bells?” 

[mvsicinthedvrk]

Xiao Chiye looks visibly affronted when the other laughs, if only because he's not sure that she's not laughing at him. Too young to remember-- he squints at her once more, trying to picture a younger version of the face in front of him but coming up short yet again. Although at the mention of his brother, his eyes light up with an eagerness that makes him look younger than he is. "You know Jiming?" he questions intently. If she's a friend of his, that would explain why she'd recognized Chiye but not the other way around; he hadn't paid much attention to his older brother's companions, especially not when he seemed to have so many friends over the years, his social circle always shifting. His tone shifts to something far more personable than before; he's not entirely convinced she's not simply making this story up to convince him that she's trustworthy, but he can give her the benefit of the doubt for the purpose of having a civil conversation. "He's well. I don't hear from him often either... he and my father are busy." That's the only reason the others haven't been in much contact, he's sure; but then again, Chiye's been equally busy, and hasn't reached out in the other direction either. "What did you say your name was?"

                     no denial, yet just as little recognition. it leaves zhuyin at a bit of a loss as to what to make of the situation, though at his next words, the general can’t help herself: in demand— her initial snort easily melts into wholehearted laughter. this was indeed libei’s wolf pup, there was no denying it. whereas his memories may have taken a hit, his ego appeared to be just fine. and, frankly, a ce’an that did not recognise her was still better than no ce’an at all, even if he was unlikely to be of any help to her. the man seemed to be fully accustomed to the city, which meant he must have been here for a while. perhaps, she thinks, the loss of memory had been a gradual decline, and she should start scribbling down some reminders to herself just in case. “they’ve crossed plenty, but you must have been too young to remember,” zhuyin tries instead, deciding to take another gamble in mentioning jiming; “your brother is an old friend of mine, though i haven’t heard from him in a while. has he been well?”