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gacharolls2021-09-19 11:29 pm
of_geo) wrote in gacharolls2021-09-19 11:29 pm
Entry tags:
>> 009 | My Little Harbinger
[ it's several hours by the time the returns to the confines of his special underground cellar, his heels clicking on the linoleum announcing his presence before he strides down the hallway. a few hours and he's managed to change into something more presentable, something not torn with a well-placed slash of a knife or the grasp of fingers. as expected, he does not hurry, nor does he idle so. instead every step is purposeful, taken with intent, made heavy with the punishment that weighs heavy in the air like storm clouds rolling in from the sea.
though perhaps that is simply a result of the small container of incense he'd sent down with one of his stewards, to be placed just outside the confines of the prisoner's cell in such a way that it would ensure the smoke and fumes would roll inside and permeate the confines of his little cage. even now Zhongli has to lift a hand to cover his nose, the scent of leather obstructing much of the incense aroma and keeping his mind relatively clear - for the moment at least.
the auburn-haired man is slumped on his feet, chains keeping his arms bound high above his head just enough it forces him to his tiptoes. Zhongli reaches the cell and he stands for several moments with his hands moving to fold behind his back, golden eyes observing silently. it is not unlike someone looking upon an animal at the zoo, or even a scientist studying the variable in his experiment.
the incense is a particularly aggressive concoction gifted from the Tsaritsa herself some time ago. initially Zhongli had no intentions to use it, preferring to rule over his city with an iron fist and the loving obedience of his people. how fitting that he would use a gift from the Tsaritsa herself to subdue her own Harbinger. at the time, she had said, it would assist him greatly in "taming wild animals". perhaps this was what she had foreseen all those months ago, when she had decided to send her Harbinger to infiltrate his beloved port city.
he wonders if the man even recognizes the scent. ]
In the interests of diplomacy, I will grant you two minutes to argue your case. While I cannot begin to fathom your reasoning for making an attempt on my life, I am curious to hear whatever excuses you may offer up.
[ his voice leaves no room for argument; as in all things, he is unyielding, immovable, and as cold as stone. there is an imperiousness to his tone that speaks of a lifetime of command, as though there is no question as to his wants, his desires, and all of heaven and earth move to obey. ]
You may speak.
though perhaps that is simply a result of the small container of incense he'd sent down with one of his stewards, to be placed just outside the confines of the prisoner's cell in such a way that it would ensure the smoke and fumes would roll inside and permeate the confines of his little cage. even now Zhongli has to lift a hand to cover his nose, the scent of leather obstructing much of the incense aroma and keeping his mind relatively clear - for the moment at least.
the auburn-haired man is slumped on his feet, chains keeping his arms bound high above his head just enough it forces him to his tiptoes. Zhongli reaches the cell and he stands for several moments with his hands moving to fold behind his back, golden eyes observing silently. it is not unlike someone looking upon an animal at the zoo, or even a scientist studying the variable in his experiment.
the incense is a particularly aggressive concoction gifted from the Tsaritsa herself some time ago. initially Zhongli had no intentions to use it, preferring to rule over his city with an iron fist and the loving obedience of his people. how fitting that he would use a gift from the Tsaritsa herself to subdue her own Harbinger. at the time, she had said, it would assist him greatly in "taming wild animals". perhaps this was what she had foreseen all those months ago, when she had decided to send her Harbinger to infiltrate his beloved port city.
he wonders if the man even recognizes the scent. ]
In the interests of diplomacy, I will grant you two minutes to argue your case. While I cannot begin to fathom your reasoning for making an attempt on my life, I am curious to hear whatever excuses you may offer up.
[ his voice leaves no room for argument; as in all things, he is unyielding, immovable, and as cold as stone. there is an imperiousness to his tone that speaks of a lifetime of command, as though there is no question as to his wants, his desires, and all of heaven and earth move to obey. ]
You may speak.