gacharolls | >> 010

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>> 010 | oh, worm

[ It's been a few days since he'd arrived in Liyue proper and the jet lag was only now just starting to wear off. A few days and he'd managed to become familiar enough with the terrain to be able to map out any viable escape routes, discover that he does not have much of a spice tolerance and that also, the man known as "Rex Lapis" was much more of a common face in the streets than he'd imagined him to be.

At first he'd thought he might have been mistaken, that the intel he'd received was wrong in some way. With nothing but a brief description (height, weight, hair color, eye color - and really, couldn't they have come up with a better term than "cor lapis gold"?) and a semi-blurry photograph taken from the side, Childe imagined he would have to scour Liyue for at least a good week or two before he found his target. The people of this fair city didn't seem to want to deviate from their traditional norms and they all seemed to dress the same way, too, making it hard to pick any one apart in a sea of browns and blacks and golds with the occasional vibrant but respectful color thrown into the mix.

Finding "Rex Lapis" would be a chore in itself, never mind going along with the Tsaritsa-sanctioned mission he had been assigned to kill the man. He wouldn't be surprised if he didn't see Snezhnayan shores for a month or two. The harbor city wasn't exactly small, after all, and from what he could see of the photograph the man looked like every other Liyuen walking about.

Imagine his surprise when said man was spotted immediately, perusing the market at his leisure and appraising each individual valuable when it was showcased to him by a hungry-looking merchant. Childe didn't have much of an eye for antiques so they all looked the same to him; nondescript and useless, no real worth in them aside from what they could be melted into. Rex Lapis seemed to have taken fault with literally every item shown to him for over an hour, and in the end had left the stall empty-handed with a fuming, exasperated worker glaring after him.

The man's schedule was easy enough to pick apart after that. Childe had spent the entirety of the first day tailing him and working out his walking path, following him at a leisurely distance and acting every bit like an enamored tourist so taken with Liyue's sights and sounds that lingering in any one place didn't seem too out of the ordinary. Rex would go from one building to another, hitting up all the merchant stalls in-between, always alone, never once breaking his poised, methodical stride. The fact that no one else seemed to be wary or suspicious of him - which, shouldn't they be, given he was effectively the ruling head of his "family"? - Childe was starting to wonder if maybe his intel had been incorrect.

By the third day he'd set up something of a base of operations in one of the buildings that he'd seen Rex meander in and out of. It was a modestly large hotel, boasting the sort of Liyuen-style decoration that a connoisseur of the East would lose themselves in. The architecture and paintings within were distinctly in the same style as the rest of the city, immortalizing Liyue's cultural arts with every brush stroke, ever swath of paint. The people at the lobby were certainly cordial enough and, despite the backwater-country vibes the interior gave off, it was clear they were relatively up to date and rather technologically savvy, the staff able to reserve him a room for a few weeks in a matter of moments after a few swipes on their touchpads.

It might have seemed foolish to book a room in the same building that he planned to trail and potentially murder Rex Lapis in, but Childe had confidence in spades. He knew the best ways to escape the country and, barring that, it wasn't as though there weren't Fatui already infiltrating the city. The element of danger was what made it most exciting, after all.

A few days turned into a little under a week, and then a little over a week, and eventually the time came for Childe to make his move. As much as he had no issues with killing an innocent man, if word that he did got to Rex Lapis himself it wouldn't make finding him any easier. He was pretty sure the man he'd been tailing had to have been him. He looked like the one in the photograph, after all... but then, also, he wasn't entirely sure. He certainly didn't look like the mean-mugging head of a mafia family.

So Childe decides that it would be best to give him a little test of sorts.

It's around seven at night, when the lights of the city have started to flicker to light. The people on the streets are making their way home after a long day's work, threading around each other and making idle chatter in the form of greetings and farewells. Nothing more than that, since everyone has somewhere they need to be.

Childe's target is among them, his height and distinct strides making him stick out like a sore thumb. The man navigates through the crowds easily, smoothly, and were Childe not as good as he was at general reconnaissance work - thanks to his training when he was a grunt in the Fatui - he probably would have lost him minutes ago. Admittedly, there is something about this man that just screams of a higher plane of existence, he thinks, but it's not something he can actually place his finger on.

His chance to strike comes when the man takes a sudden turn into a darkened alley - a usual for him, Childe had learned, but only on certain days. He waits a few moments outside the entrance before stepping in after him, and their footsteps echo hollowly on the high walls around them as the other continues to walk, purposefully, like he hadn't just heard Childe coming in after him.

Yeah, there was no way this was Rex Lapis. Childe reasons this to himself even as he's pulling his Tokarev out from its holster at his side. He fits the silencer into the weapon with a click that seems to ring throughout the area, and he's quick to lift it up and point it at the man in front of him once they've reached a far enough distance from the streets. ]

You're a brave man, you know.

[ He's taken care to dress casually, forgoing his usual suit and vest in favor of slim-fitting jeans and a hoodie. To anyone else he would probably look like a kid attempting a robbery; to Rex, he's not quite sure. Even Childe knows from his reputation among the lower recruits that he's something of a sight on the battlefield. There's particular rumors swirling about his eyes and their hue directly correlating to all the murders he's committed.

Childe's arm never wavers, and his gaze fixates on the man's back as he speaks again, a little louder. ]

Empty your pockets.

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[ Polite enough, he supposes. Rex allows him to approach, gloved hands reaching to take the vials and the incense. If nothing else... at least Childe completed the transaction as requested.

He would like to compliment him, even, however... he refrains from doing so and, instead, deliberately turns to one side to set the incense down on his desk as well as two of three vials.

Rex Lapis is still waiting for an answer. ]

You were probably expecting your brother, so sorry about that, first of all.

[ Childe thinks back to the path he'd taken to get here. He thinks of the double doors, the men standing on either side of them, where they might have been able to hide any potential weapons or the like.

It would be easy to kill Rex Lapis and then make his escape. Easy, he thinks, and yet... ]

I suppose there's no beating around the bush. I'm here to assassinate you, per the orders of Her Majesty the Tsaritsa.

[ Rex Lapis stiffens, but it has nothing to do with the mention of an assassination attempt and everything to do with mention of his brother. Rex snaps his head to look straight at Childe because oh what the ever living— ] —Yes, well, my brother... I daresay we see enough of each other every day.

[ You know... in the mirror. For fuck's sakes, is this her idea of a joke? He's going to send her something vile in return for this. ] If that is what you are here for, then get on with it.

[ he continues to speak, now muttering under his breath further as he goes back to the incense and the vial, although he picks up a different one as he had dropped the first one at such revelations. ]

Yes, perhaps having my brains blown out will be a way to clear my head.

[ Clear it of this handsome but apparently very ~~stupid~~ dense assassin that can't put two and two together— who's the old man here, anyway?! ]

[ it’s so obvious that they’re brothers. Who reacts to the arrival of an assassin that way??? Childe normally wouldn’t complain, given it meant he could return home faster, but… he expected a little fight. ]

Wh… what do you mean, “get on with it”? Are you underestimating me?

[ He probably thinks he can’t do it. Well, that’s fine, he’ll show him…!

His fingers curl around the hilt of his pistol and he pulls it free, aiming at where he’d seen golden eyes in the shadows. Clearing his throat, he tries again. ]

I’m number eleven of the Fatui Harbingers. A pleasure.

I can only hope that you’ll give me a good fight.

[ Rex Lapis is silent a moment. A good fight? What a strange assassin. He halts in dumping the liquid into the incense, recapping it and setting it down with the others even as he shifts to face the gun and its owner. ] I see.

[ If allowed, Rex will now reach out to gently touch beneath the other's chin assessing curiously despite the gun to his head as if it's not even there. ]

And what is it that you are offering me in return should you lose, boy? Your own desire upon victory is already quite clear.

[ he’s certainly allowed, but that doesn’t mean the touch won’t have Childe startling in surprise, immediately shoving his hand forward to grab at whatever Rex is wearing - a suit??? - and haul him forward a bit. It’s reflex more than anything and by the time he’s realized he’s done it the gun has shifted a little in his hold. ]

… you talk as though you have any kind of choice in the matter. The only reason why I haven’t killed you yet is I can’t stand the people who work in the shadows. I’d rather let you try fighting me over shooting you in the back.

[ Which was a terrible mindset for an assassin to have but here they were. ]

You’re pretty confident in your own abilities that you’ll give me more than a good fight. I suppose it’s to be expected.

I’ll humor you. What would the great Rex Lapis want that he can’t simply buy or force? I’m curious.

[ Ever stranger, to be pulled closer rather than forced back. Full of contradictions, hm? Rex is wearing a suit, a white one at that, so do your best not to bleed all over it in the near future.

There's a small tilt to his head, almost curious now before a soft hmph escapes him and he leans forward to bring his mouth to the other's ear, an almost gutteral (but it could... must??... be just be a hallucination as it's really more dangerous sounding than anything) chuckle escaping him. ]

And you... you who are so confident that you can fell a monster for your Queen. Nevertheless, I will act as your Goliath if you believe yourself a David of your Tsaritsa.

[ His grip will now tighten on Childe's chin like a vice, threatening, testing to see if he can get the other to panic and fire the gun even as he makes to take a good look into the other's eyes. Beautiful and utterly hypnotic—the color, he means, he's never seen such depths that can devour even in the dark of night.

The so-called assassin is willing to entertain him something that he is unable to buy and can't take by force? Ha! Rex Lapis thinks not. ] Mm, that leaves very little, does it not? ... No matter, I do have one.

[ Rex Lapis now goes to boldly press his mouth against the other's but not in a kiss— and his eyes never close to suggest such, either, staring him down the entire time his lips move against the Harbinger's like a brush on parchment; as he lays out his terms on Childe's flesh, staining it the same as ink and blood. ]

Your loyalty.

[ the kiss is certainly unexpected (if it could even be called that) and were he not a very finely trained assassin, his body honed like an instrument of war he imagined that would have been enough for him to pull the trigger. But he is, and so when Rex speaks his next words Childe only laughs instead.

He has to turn his head a little to speak , which is made difficult by the hand on his chin but he manages an inch or two. ]

You greatly underestimate a Snezhnayan’s loyalty if you think it can be swayed so easily.

[ The grip he has on the man goes from pulling to pushing, trying to make room between them. Even in the darkness he can see how utterly white and pristine Rex’s suit is and it makes him want to dirty it up. ]

Maybe it’s for that reason the Tsaritsa tasked me with this mission. To show you what true loyalty looks like.

[ His weapon shifts, the barrel pressing just under Rex’s chin. ]

Come on. You can at least do me the favor of looking a little more nervous.

[ Rex does let him push him back and he's even kind enough to let go of Childe's chin despite the barrel of the gun shifting. He's done his assessment. Pretty boy, the eyes are a favorite. He will do if he decides not to reject her gift altogether and send him back on the next ship to Snezhnaya. ]

On the contrary, I underestimate nothing. You asked a question and I provided true answer, did I not? Unobtainable by purchase or force, indeed, I do believe I know it perhaps better than even you yourself.

[ As for the goading with that gun's movements, Rex tilts his head up rather indignantly with the press of the barrel, averting his eyes to look at something more interesting— nothingness, apparently. ] Did she really let you come here only with a gun? How cruel... regardless, I have nothing to give you, Outlander. [ not even a fight. ]

Shoot, if that's all you have. I am not here for your pleasure.

Edited 2021-09-29 19:11 (UTC)

[ Cruel, he says, as though Childe can't take him out with just a gun. It's almost laughable how high-and-mighty Rex thinks he is, for all that he had lavished on the manor and the hallway leading into this place. Perhaps back in the day he might have been more fearsome and not-so-easily reached, but now -

Now he was just a pull of the trigger from death. ]

I suppose you're right, in that respect. Though you're stupider than I thought if you expect my loyalty to be swayed so easily.

Don't worry. I'll be sure to take good care of your brother at your funeral.

[ Enough dallying. He squeezes his finger over the trigger and the bang that rings through the office is muffled enough by the silence Childe had affixed to the barrel earlier that the sound hardly reaches past the door. ]

[ What a spoiled little thing: mouths off, doesn't do as told, doesn't take a hint, and overstays his welcome.

And yet... he pulls the trigger, at least, which is enough to color him interesting for Rex Lapis. The bullet has nowhere to go but through flesh and bone and blood splatters as cleanly as it rips. Rex's body jerks from the force of the bullet before slumping back against the desk even as there's a gurgled grunt of pain that escapes him.

Unfortunately for Childe, he doesn't slump quite enough as one should for being dead when a bullet goes straight up through your brain like that. One hand moves back behind him grabbing all three vials and crushing them simultaneously, letting the corroded liquid mix, seep, and drip into the leather of his glove and the incense before a vicious grin—blood spilling from either side of the man's mouth in the process, as his other hand produces a lighter to ignite the incense. It seems to almost splash instead of spark (but, really, should it spark, either?), the colors of the liquid flaring to life strangely as they clearly mark their path along Red Lapis's soaked hand and as they sink into the incense that has started to smoke. There's really no time to be lightning incense now, though, is there? Surely, he's going to die any moment now, this is just somehow some impressive feat of the body, a last ditch effort— what could it possibly do, anyway? It certainly won't waft about enough to even cover a few feet of distance before Childe will have no further reason to stay with his target dead.

... Or will it? Should Childe linger too long (which Rex expects he will) he will get a wift of it and despite just how... calming and pleasant it smells, it will send every neuron firing in warning to the Harbinger's brain telling him to get away from it. He won't have much chance to make a decision in the suddenly chaos, however, before Rex is suddenly reaching to grab his face, to smother him in the high-concentrated fumes of the drug conditioned and soaked into the leather of the glove. ]

... How kind of you, but you will be the one needing taking care of. I don't sleep with humans, but you were almost worth the risk, I must say. [ He doubts the other is going to make the connection any better now than he did before. He won't be surprised if he has to hear about his "brother" again from this child once he comes to after all of this, assuming he survives.

One inhale and Childe's done. At best, the fumes will cause a severe onset of delirium and disorientation. At worst, it's going to be a hell of a lot more of just that along with a sudden onslaught of auditory and visual hallucinations to boot.

The Mafia head doesn't seem nearly so affected, even after getting a bullet through his head, coming to lean and practically sit at the edge of his desk— that is, after he roughly flings the other from his grip to the ground and watches with what can only be a malicious sort of interest as he wipes at his mouth... and the blood soaking his neck and chin, as well. Humans are so messy, aren't they. ]

You are now the brave man between us, Tartaglia. Nevertheless... everyone is afraid of monsters.

[ His words would be head-splitting to Childe now, as if they're trying to rip flesh from bone, and that incense is quickly filling the area, amplifying whatever the concentration of drugs has as their function (and to sum up it more than to simply drive insane in the most harrowing way possible would be needless.) ] Now, show me something of intrigue. Show me human tenacity in the form of a beast and perhaps next time... you may have your fight and my head, as you so wish.

[ Seeping in so easily into the skin the drugs are potent and truly unkind. There is no methodical aim to them that disarm the Harbinger and rob him of consciousness as many so often do. Quite the opposite, in fact, they set his nervous system into overdrive, on fire, like an overdose of adrenaline to the point it seems to itch incessantly and painfully to hold back. Hold back what, however... well, that depends as those vials hit three different areas.

Fear, the need to fight to survive, to do anything and everything imaginable to come out on top. Lust, the desire for that which is not yet within one's grasp, whether it be in the form of greed or pure basal lust of animalistic nature for an object, a person, a power—or a goal. Rage, the purest form of anger, pertaining to anything at all and when combined with one of the other two, the rage of being denied what that individual feels belongs or is otherwise owed to them.

It's an absolute onslaught of nightmarish hell that is beyond anything Childe has probably experienced, but if he could think long enough he may remember something vaguely similar in practice during one of his trials to become a Harbinger. This is far more potent, but the test bared before him then is the same as now— it isn't about escaping it, it's about enduring it without going mad whether that is via satiation of the feelings provided in any way possible (murder, rape, pillage— no possibility is barred from the mind's solutions and the visceral need for it to be realized) or by mere inaction.

It's no more pleasant (even if on some level it causes a heat in the belly, a desire that can't be quelled by any other means but to act) to witness its effects, but one wouldn't be able to tell that that from the expression on Rex Lapis's face as he observes the drug in action, seeming to even be over his momentary agitation of being shot. In truth, it's the first time he's used it on a human of any sorts— he'll take the Tsaritsa's hand picked suggestion with trust in her decision. If nothing else, he should provide brief entertainment. It doesn't seem to have the same effect on the Mafia boss, at all. It seems to calm him unnaturally, a strangely high tolerance overcoming him where impatience and disinterest were nestled firmly prior.

It has to be tested, and the only way to test its effects is to interact himself... with the results. It just so happens the drug effect on non-humans makes him something of a willing victim, far too interested in the effects and the relatively serenity obtained by staying in the waft of incense present to bother leaving the other writhing on the floor.

... For the moment, anyway. Rex imagines he'll be leaving the boy to his own devices within the minute. Very little is so captivating these days, after all. ]

[ Childe has done this enough times that the sound of everything that comes after pulling the trigger hardly phases him any more. It's perhaps less so because the manhadn't begged or pleased for his life, robbing Childe of that particular satisfaction without even realizing it.

He's already turning away when the sound of the vials crushing draw his attention, and while it would be easy to write it off as the man's body smashing them under his weight - the air feels different, somehow. Charged, anticipatory, and it sets all of Childe's nerves alight with some unseen, impending threat.

Rex Lapis is not dead. Despite taking a gunshot wound to the head, he is not dead.

How - he hadn't missed? The barrel had been pressed right up against his throat and Rex had not dodged at the last second, so how -

Childe is already moving, trying to pick out the white-suited man in the darkness, bringing his pistol around to point it at what he can see of the mafia head - but then he's speaking, and that voice is both a warning and a rumble of a promise that makes his knees go weak for all the wrong reasons.

I have to get away, his brain screams at him. Childe has never before run from a fight in his entire life, but his legs are stumbling backwards despite the grip on him, head swimming with the scent of whatever it was he'd just inhaled. His emotions pingpong around so violently it robs him of his breath, the only thing he's aware of the way his blood rushes in his ears, how his heart hammers violently against his chest like a bird beating its wings against a cage, trying to escape.

Perhaps mercifully, he's flung away; his elbows and knees knock on the floor hard, sending pain lancing up through his joints, and even though the room is dark and impossible to see in he can feel his head swimming with the impact and the fumes. He vaguely registers the fact that his weapon had been separated from his hands and gone spinning across the floor somewhere far out of reach.

A lesser man would have wept and pissed himself, surely. Childe - Childe just needs the world to stop spinning. He presses his forehead against the cold ground and draws in deep, ragged breaths, feeling his emotions war and tear at each other in his chest. He's trembling, shaking with the onslaught of sensation. While his body screams at him to move, to run, there's another, deeper primal need to rip and tear and kill, a deep-seated desire he hadn't unearthed since the early days of his being in the Tsaritsa's employ.

But he knows this feeling. It's familiar in the vaguest sense, and it takes all of Childe's efforts piecing his mind back together from where the pieces have drifted apart to place this nostalgia. His fingers curl into his palms hard enough to hurt, knuckles going white under the exertion - and then he's suddenly pushing himself up into a stumbling stand, and then turning, and -

Rex Lapis should have expected this, surely, from the Tsaritsa's youngest Harbinger. Out of all of them he's the most rash, the one with room to grow and mature. He doesn't know where his gun is, but that's fine - he has his fist, which he swings at the mafia head now with all of his strength, the sheer force of it probably enough to break his own hand in the process.

But it'll be worth it if he can at least dislocate the other man's jaw. ]

[ That would require Rex Lapis to have a jaw to unhinge, which he shouldn't considering that bullet should have completely shattered it. And yet, here they are. The fumes seem to calm him, yes, but they haven't dulled his reaction times— or perhaps, it's simply predictable for an unpredictable and rash human child to lash out in such a manner.

Childe's fist connects with air, which is perhaps just as well considering the amount of force he's throwing into it. He may very well end up throwing himself against the desk, but Rex Lapis is gone, as well as the small jar of incense.

Or, no, not entirely gone. The soft click of his shoes can be heard, as much as they probably sound like thunder in Childe's head alongside his own pulse, although it's a momentary sound before they, too, disappear. The already dim lighting suddenly drops into blackness entirely as if the power has been cut and aside from the Harbinger's mind, everything seems to come to a deathly halt.

But, if Childe turns, he will see those haunting yellow eyes now in a terrifying sort of way as they don't quite seem to be on a human, anymore. Not with their size, not the way they pierce the darkness like jagged spears and seem to bleed the desire to rip into the tiny Harbinger piece by piece, not the waythe floor sounds as if it's being carved into horribly with clawed nails as someone(thing...?) drags themselves along the marble and jade beneath Childe's feet was if slithering closer to their target.

Someone? Something? There's the sound of a growl from one end of the room, the gutteral stirring of a beast in heat. Another sound from another part of the room sounds an ear piercing cry as chains jingle violently as something throws itself in the darkness against their restraint demanding release. Yet from another direction is what seems like a monstrous set of fangs and teeth attached to a snapped and dislocated jaw as smoke of unknown origin billows out as its unsteady panting breath.

All pieces, no wholes, like some sick twisted experiments of the most vile, beasts at every angle with no dignity of their own as they're left flailing, dismembered, entangled in their own entrails and gore unable to die as they claw and thrash around with the insane need to lash out and kill —just like Tartaglia, and they all focus on him as their prey and strike down mercilessly.

Rex Lapis sneers as he steps out of the room into the hall, dripping in blood , ingnoring the startled sound of his subordinates even as he issues commands to them. ] Have Xiao sedate him and chain him to the floor, if you have to, until I decide what to do with him.

[ And that decision could take a very long time, depending just how long he wants Childe to suffer in agony alone inside his own head for his audacity on every level. ]

[ The momentum of the punch has him stumbling into the desk, knocking into it with a clatter and a scrape of wood that's hard enough to clack his teeth together. Childe can just barely keep himself upright but he manages, twisting around to peer into the room behind for the man in question.

He can hear Rex's shoes click like thunder, resonating in his head with all the subtlety of bricks slamming around in his mind, and then suddenly - nothing. Nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat and his pants, the blood rushing through his head with adrenaline and anticipation, waiting, watching...

The beasts are... unexpected. They weren't there before, were they? He can hear, salivating, tearing and ripping and growling, he can hear the chains strain as they're pulled and yanked at, the creatures desperate for release. It brings him back to a time in Snezhnaya, a time when he thought he was going to die, so very long ago...

Needless to say, his battle with these imaginary beasts go as well as one might expect. With the effects of the vials and incense rampaging through his body he rips and tears and gets the same done to him in turn, flashes of bright, searing heat fresh in his mind even if they didn't show outwardly on his body. Like this he's reduced to his most basic instincts and the need to surive, and in his mind at least he does so gloriously, until a fatal blow against his neck rips out his throat and he's left to fade into unconsciousness on the mafia head's floor.

Funny that the mind could be so powerful so as to convince one that they were dead, despite how perfectly healthy their body was. Even someone like Tartaglia is not immune, it would seem.

That's what makes his awakening even more confusing, when he finds himself in one - albeit slightly bruised - piece, chained down to the floor of the very office he'd "died" in. He's sore and aching and tender but that doesn't stop him from yanking at his chains anyway to test the give and straining his already pained muscles even more in his endeavors. ]

Fuck...

[ Not the best night of his life, one can imagine, especially considering that the incense is still burning—but, at least, it's not nearly such a devastating effect as getting the concentrated inhale that Childe was forced to earlier. The effects ebb and flow more subtlety, so he's lucky that no more massive hallucinations of one's own death should be crawling around his consciousness. The tug at his mind still exists, of course, along with a suggestive haze to push certain emotions one way or another. Without a direction for them to be pulled at current, though, Childe will simply feel dazed and sluggish like typical sedative drugs do rather than want impulse need to act in any fashion.

He will also see he is not alone despite being rather unceremoniously chained to the floor like an animal. That familiar large plush whale is near him and Zhongli is hugging onto it while flopped on it, eyeing Childe from a position on the floor as well. ]

I imagine that was not how you intended the meeting to go.

[ his head’s swimming in a haze, but he recognizes the plushie first before anything. And then the man clinging onto it, and with a groan he shakes his head like that would dispel the sudden weird combination of heat and nausea and drowsiness that suddenly swarms his senses.

Inexplicably, he feels a pull towards the other man and shifts to the best of his abilities to get a little closer. The only crime Zhongli has committed against him was making him pay out the ass for a stuffed animal.

A few things about his talk with Rex Lapis stick out, but it’s hard to parse with how his mind is stuck on how cute Zhongli looks right now. ]

Your brother’s kind of an asshole.

[ ...Ah yes, clearly this is how humans deal with capital-t Trauma: pretending they are two different entities.

He supposes he'll go along with it just a little longer for... diplomacy reasons(??)

It doesn't have anything to do with how interesting the affection variance is. Absolutely none. ]

...Oh? Yes? I have heard such things before. [ This isn't the first time a victim has refused to acknowledge them as the same person... probably.

Zhongli reaches out to gently press a hand to the other's face
as if checking temperature. ]

Shall I let you out? Or are you uncertain if you will attempt to escape or not and believe you are best left as is?

You act like I want to be trapped here.

[ which makes sense, he supposed, especially if Zhongli were serving the family in some way. Even if he were to escape from here unscathed, that didn’t hide the fact that he had effectively failed in his mission and would be unable to return home.

A shame, the homesickness was just starting to set in.

A low hum rumbles through his throat at the touch against his forehead albeit belatedly, and he closes his eyes to the motion. ]

Are you gonna stay in here with me to make sure I don’t off myself? You don’t have to worry about that.

I was imagining more along the lines of spending time with you, since that was cut short the other evening. [ Where did he make up that one, now? Still, on the other side of things he doesn't hate being near the other despite what he did. ] ... And I am also here to see that you are cleaned, dressed, fed, and rested.

[ After several moments of thought, Zhongli will shift to sit up and lean over the other as he searches to identify where the chains lock together in their various places. ]

I do not recommend attempting anything bold until the drugs have worn off. They are still very much in your system and will be a hinderance more than a boon of any kind if you plan to do anything unwise.

[ Zhongli finds the main lock and undoes it followed by several more— whoever dealt with chaining Childe down took no chances of it ending up sloppy. ] For now, shall we get you a shower, a change of clothes, and a bed to rest in? The floor is not the most comfortable.

[ It's a strange turn of events, he thinks, to house the man that had just tried to off a high-ranking member of the mafia. But then he remembers the way that Rex Lapis had looked in the dark, the growl and the rumble of the creatures and how he'd... survived what was essentially a shot to the head at point-black range.

Who does that? No one human, that's who.

Perhaps that was the reason why Rex Lapis had gone uncontested as the head of the family for so long. ]

Spending more time with me? [ Did he mean the kiss? That wasn't... he hadn't been asking him out or anything, but... well, admittedly he wouldn't mind spending a bit more time with him. Maybe he could find out more information about his brother.

And possibly get the rest of that kiss, too. He won't hold his breath.

As Zhongli leans over to start unlocking and unclasping the chains keeping him bound to the floor, Childe closes his eyes and basks in the warmth and the solid feeling of another body against his own. He doesn't realize he's chasing after Zhongli's scent until his nose brushes against whatever part of him he could reach - fabric or skin or hair, it doesn't matter - and he inhales deeply, feeling something in him settle comfortably and peacefully at the other's aroma. ]

... are you gonna join me in the shower? [ He's half-serious, half-joking; messed up as he is, it's hard to tell. By all accounts it's probably a bad idea to try and worm your way into the bed of the brother of the man who just tried to kill you - well deserved as it was - but Childe's never really been one to back down from a bad idea when he really wanted something. ]

[ Hm? Zhongli notices the way the other seems to subconsciously seek out his scent, which he can't help but... well, he doesn't feel bad, but it is quite unfortunate for Childe, isn't it? He imagines it's the effects of the drugs, but seeking something such as that from the person who put you into this position... surely his body already knows even if his mind is in some strange denial.

Regardless, Zhongli brings a hand to gently stroke through the Harbinger's hair, and he imagines that his own actions, too, are a result of the incense and the drugs burning away along with the various herbs in the process. ]

Of course. [ he seems quite serious about his declaration. ] I will ensure the process goes as smoothly as possible for you. My attempt here is to provide you with a bit of comfort due to your otherwise rough stay thus far.

[ As he goes to stand now, Zhongli reaches to help the other to his feet. If it becomes obvious Childe isn't capable of walking around himself then... well, he will just have to be carried.

Either way, once they get to the bathroom (carrying the Harbinger if needed or assisting him or simply leading him along in the right direction)— it too having been spared no expense just like the tunnels and halls from earlier— Zhongli seems to belatedly realize something and speaks up. ] ...Ah, that is... if you do not want my presence, I suppose it is also allowable to give you the privacy to bathe on your own?

[ It didn't occur to him, particularly, but despite being a little bruised, the other is potentially in well enough shape to do so. Zhongli almost forgot that he didn't actually do anything to Childe during their encounter beyond flinging him to the floor— perhaps because he had wanted to so badly do plenty that the incense had barely made it possible to restrain himself.

How uncouth of him, really. Yet, what on earth did the Tsaritsa wish to incite here, anyway, giving him someone that could make him volatile enough to overcome the scents made to calm even the most aggressive of entities in the presence of humans?

Without another word, Zhongli steps past Childe into the bathroom, removing his jacket and dropping it to one side of the large bath that is present in order to move to the separated shower and begin run the water. Zhongli then proceeds to move around the bathroom for proper towels and bathing items before putting them in the shower while gently folding the towel over a rack for easy access later for the young man to get once he's finished. Turning, he finally reaches out to either let Childe take his hand or simply coax him over to the shower. ]

Well? How do you feel? Well enough to be alone?

Edited 2021-09-30 23:12 (UTC)

[ That feels nice, he thinks, subconsciously leaning into the hand stroking at his hair with a murmur of contentment. It'd been a long time since he'd been in position with anyone and he hadn't realized just how much he'd missed it until that moment. It's enough that he barely catches what he says - barely, but he manages - and accepts the hand that helps him up to his feet.

He's a quick recover in most aspects, so it should stand to reason that this time isn't much different. That's why he's able to make his way on his own all the way until they get to the bathroom, which looks just as lavish as everything else in the manor. Truly, Rex Lapis spared no expense. ]

I never said I didn't want you here.

[ Because far from it; after the night he endured, a little human contact was more than welcome. Especially from Zhongli, who probably owed him about thirty thousand Mora worth of it. Though he's still a little weak in the knees the doorjamb is a good support, and so the Harbinger will let himself slouch up against it in as nonchalant a manner as he can manage while he looks about the bathroom and the room beyond their door.

... how had Rex Lapis managed to survive a shot from that close range? It didn't make any sense. If they really were brothers... Zhongli looked pretty human enough. Was he wearing a bulletproof - no, there was no such thing as bulletproof skin or scarves. Childe would have definitely noticed if he were wearing something, even in the dark.

And what was with that kiss?

He pulls himself out of his thoughts in time to see the way Zhongli sets out his things for him, including drawing the water for the shower even though he thinks he'd much prefer a bath. He won't complain, though, instead looking up and meeting the other man's eyes and finding himself drawn in by how golden they are. Like warm honey, oozing some emotion he can't really tell, no doubt due to the sluggishness of his thoughts. All he can really tell is he very much wants him here, and he pushes himself up a little to approach, one hand sliding around Zhongli's waist, mouth pressing against his jaw as a wave of heat suddenly rolls through him.

Gods, he smells divine. ]

I might need some help... washing.

[ Childe will be more than welcome to take a bath as much as he likes after this, but a shower seems like something he can't drown himself in quite as easily if left alone. Then again, perhaps the bath would indeed be a better way to help wash him now that he's made it clear he's not interested in being left to his own devices... but, it's still quicker and easier to check Childe over this way. What is peculiar is Childe's touch around his waist, the feeling of his mouth against his jaw (and Zhongli can't help the slight hitch of his breath at how sensitive it feels to be touched there in a different manner after experiencing a bullet wrecking havoc on those very bones. Not that they have suffered any, having already remelded and healed to be more perfectly streamlined then before, but there is that lingering phantom sensation).

...How interesting, and strange, really, that this is the dominant emotion that (he assumes) the drugs are dredging up inside Childe towards Zhongli (well... he does owe Childe mora, as well, and did kind of whore himself out for the plush, so there's that, too, but still.)

Without hesitating, Zhongli brings his hands to carefully tug at the other's hoodie in a warning that he plans to be removing it from the other so he best be prepared to comply. ]

As you like, then.

[ Oh, he really is being spoiled.

With a breathy laugh against Zhongli's jaw, and a quick peck besides, he leans back and lifts his hands up to allow himself to be undressed. The hoodie is all one piece so it comes off easily with a few tugs, leaving Childe clad in a tight white t-shirt tight around his biceps. A smattering of scars run down his forearms and he, reluctantly, pulls them away to help tug off that white shirt to toss somewhere on the ground.

If there were any doubts that Childe had been in this line of work for some time, the state of his torso would probably do well to dispel any lingering doubts. Various nicks and scars, from knife and bullets alike, span the entire length of his well sculpted body with a particularly nasty one directly over his heart.

But he doesn't give Zhongli room to ogle. Undressed or not, he's going to gently urge the man back into the shower, taking the opportunity to crush their lips together just for the chance to taste him again. ]

[ There is a part of him that wonders how necessary it was to put someone as young as Tartaglia through such a life, but the harsh reality the scars depict certainly doesn't take away from his attractiveness in the least with the stories they tell, each one chiming to the chorus that he must have an unmistakably strong will to survive and see what is tasked to him through. Admirable qualities for a loyal subject, Zhongli muses with intent to inspect and make sure none of the marks are anywhere near fresh—except he's not given such a chance what with his mouth being captured by the other.

There's a soft sound that escapes from his throat, but whether it's due to Childe's lips, being pushed back into the shower still dressed, or the unmistakeable feeling flaring to life inside of him that now whispers incessantly is lost to consultant. That whisper is familiar, insistent, typical: to take, to claim and mark this human for his own, as his own; and the jealously that boils at the thought that he can't do so. What isn't familiar, though, is the unnerving and sudden vehement desire that takes hold that the only thing left to do, then, is make the Harbinger want to claim him for his own instead.

Before Zhongli can reflect on it in any manner, his mind is already making his body consent, if the way he returns the kiss like one that's been long starved (and that the taste of the other is the only thing that might quench and satiate) is any indication. It's not usually something Zhongli experiences, but he nevertheless seems to submit to it now rather easily with how he wraps his arms about the other's neck still not once complaining about being shoved into the shower still dressed or how they shouldn't be doing something like this at all. ]

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