>> 015 | I want a refund on this marriage

[of_geo]

[ when he'd last supped with the Tsaritsa the last thing he expected was a proposal.

it wasn't as though they hadn't considered each other, but purely as a matter of convenience. the Tsaritsa did not love in the same way that Morax loved, and while neither were wrong they both knew, innately, that an attempt at anything more than the amicable friendship they held would more than likely end in disaster. they are two last remnants of a world that has evolved beyond what either could have even begun to imagine. gone were the traditions and the ideations of his people, replaced as quickly as technology had advanced.

he did not mind this. he had always strove for Liyue to become independent, able to flourish without looking to their god for direction. while their ways of life now was not what he would have expected several thousands of years earlier, they are still a strong, vibrant people, with many of his beloved traditions embraced in oftentimes unorthodox ways and molded to fit their new lifestyles.

in some ways he still leads them, still imparts his wisdom and anecdotes upon them in small nuggets of wisdom when he can. his professions have changed over the years when it became necessary to do so (mortician to curator, curator to sailor, sailor to leatherworker, etc.). in this current era he owns a relatively well-to-do antiques shop nestled in the heart of the city, where he amasses relics of time and tucks them into the rest of his hoard for safekeeping until someone worthy comes along to possess it. it is perhaps a bittersweet, nostalgic way of living, especially since he remembers the owners of such antiques as clear as day.

this is perhaps why the Tsaritsa proposed to him a "contract" of sorts, in her words. she possessed a certain relic belonging to one of his more precious acquaintances long buried, their form no doubt reduced to dust in the millennia that had passed. she would be willing to part with it without any nominal fees, of course, if he would accept it as a "wedding present".

he recalled how the tea had suddenly turned sour in his mouth at her words. it was a poor time for a joke, but her face with its unyielding, unwavering stare and her lips drawn into that thin line of determination said as much that she was not joking now.

"We are old friends, Morax. It has been a long time. Do you not get lonely?"

"I do not," he'd said, with a ghost of a smile aimed in her direction. "For how could I, when I have you for company?"

"That is not the same." Her frown could be heard in her voice so that he did not even have to be looking at her to know her expression. A beat, and then she went on to rectify her initial offer.

"A month. It will be a marriage in name only, unless you choose otherwise. A month and you will have the zither."

A month was not a terrible price to pay for what was essentially just time spent with the Tsaritsa.

"Then let it be writ in stone."

it was only afterwards, once he had been bound for home, that she called to ask what his preferences were. at first he did not understand the question, but when she made it abundantly clear she was going to send over someone she had handpicked to be his "bride" he found himself increasingly exasperated. these were not things she had mentioned in their contract prior to establishing it and, seeing as how he had carried around the moniker of "God of Contracts" prior to his retirement, her unintended deception was like a slap to the face.

a human, he'd decided. she'd sent him pictures of all of the humans in her employ, men, women, some old enough to start greying, others with nary a hair on their upper lips. thin and voluptuous, short and tall.

there was one in particular that stood out more than the rest. despite that he had seen Snezhnaya firsthand and knew that, even now, it was characterized by harsh winters and bright, glittering snow at all times of the year, there was no light reflected in the youth's eyes. they were the precise color of noctilucous jade and he imagined it was because the precious stone was lost to this new world that the comparison hit him harder than it should have.

this one.

"Childe", as he was so affectionately dubbed, had been working under the Tsaritsa for several years now. drafted into the military at a young age he was confident, brash and reckless but had an unwavering sense of loyalty and a love for his family. in some aspects he would make a perfect "bride", though Zhongli did not expect anything more from this arrangement other than a new companion for a short stretch of time.

he kept the picture. he'd saved it to his phone and every time he looked at it he tried to ignore the hot, curling feeling deep inside of him, molten and sharp and impatient.

perhaps the Tsaritsa had been right. perhaps he had been lonely.

Childe would arrive in the Liyue airport proper and take the car designated for himself. the car would drive him to the antiques shop and there ... well. they would figure it out when the time came.

Zhongli has seated himself in the back of the shop with a clear view of the door. he's dressed not to the nines for this occasion, but in something nice regardless; pressed slacks, a turtleneck under a vest, polished leather shoes. Childe will have to navigate his way through his little odds and ends in order to reach him - if he could even see him - and, knowing he has a bit of time to himself before his guests imminent arrival, he gently rises from his seat and moves to the back to put on a pot of tea. ]

Comments

[commediadellanime]

[This is, Childe thinks as he meets Zhongli's gaze, perhaps a more dangerous mission than he thought it was going to be.]

You run this place all by yourself?

[Which means that as long as there's no customers, it'll just be the two of them in this place at all time. Dangerous, a kind of danger the Fatui have never thrown him into before, but one he's willing to face head first all the same.

He'll probably get burned, but it wouldn't be the first time or the last time Childe does something far too reckless chasing a thrill. Besides, in the grand scheme of things, flirting with someone is much tamer than half the things he does. It could even work out quite well for him, which is more than you can say for his usual missions. Even those that end successful usually see him bloody and bruised at the end.

(Which isn't entirely out of the picture here, technically, but that could still be a good thing.)]

But I think that depends.

[If he thought Childe was the sort to back down, he's about to be sorely mistaken as he grins crookedly. He's never been very good at sticking to playing coy, always giving up and just being as direct as he could possibly be. Not that he has overmuch experience in this particular arena, his methods are the same.]

I'd be more than happy to go if you're going to be joining me.

[of_geo]

[ Childe's very direct, Zhongli notes, and he's not quite sure how to take that. it's a far cry from how the peoples of his own nation often went about their day-to-day dealings unless it involved some form of trade or business. back then people were usually only blunt and to-the-point if there was mora to be made, and it was not an uncommon sight to see two people quabbling over taxes or the value of an object with the sort of viciousness more likened to predatory creatures.

it is not an altogether unpleasant feeling, to be challenged by a whelp with only a handful of years under his belt. it's refreshing, in a way, even if Childe does not wholly intend to question him, and he finds himself endeared nonetheless.

perhaps the Tsaritsa knew what she was about after all, to allow him to keep her youngest. ]

I do. [ he speaks in response to the first question, but doesn't elaborate more than that. if Childe has an expectation of how this night will go, it would be impolite to leave him hanging. ] And while I am not particularly tired, I cannot imagine you are the same after such a long trip. I would be amenable to joining you.

[ the room behind the counter is little more than a kitchenette, but there's a small set of stairs sectioned off by a delicate chain that leads to the upper floor. it's here that he gestures Childe to, now, waiting until he'd brought himself and all his things through the door before he closes and locks it. from there it's a simple affair to lead him through the kitchen, with its stove, refrigerator and tiny table and single chair, and over to the stairs which he swiftly unblocks and starts ascending. ]

[commediadellanime]

[There's a few ways Childe would like to be taken.]

I'm sure we could find a way to tire you out, Mr. Zhongli.

[He knows there's a high chance he's coming across as, well, absolutely desperate, but Zhongli seems so reserved. He hasn't bat an eye at anything Childe's said so far, and he wonders what the man's limits are. What'll piss him off? Or maybe make him laugh, or just - get any reaction out of him at all? He's sure he'll come to find the man's buttons at some point during his stay in Liyue, but he won't find them at all unless he goes digging.

He glances around the kitchenette, as curious about his surroundings as he is the man he follows, even if the view isn't nearly as nice. The man has a nice figure and Childe is only human, and he doesn't quite care if Zhongli catches him ogling the older man. Surely he's used to it anyways, with an ass like that.

At least he'll keep his hands to himself. For now.]

I'm actually pretty... keyed up after that flight. Traveling always makes me feel really antsy, y'know?

[Which is actually the truth - he's not very good at being idle, and while the plane ride was boring and travel is exhausting, he knows he's too wired to do any innocent sort of sleeping.]

[of_geo]

[ what a terrible, insatiable rascal. ]

Is that so? I suppose you would not be the first.

[ that's a shot in the dark, considering Zhongli does not often associate with the people that come in and out of his store for longer than absolutely necessary. it wasn't as though his life was dictated by how quick he could make a sale, or how soon he could get someone in and out of his store; he just simply did not have much need to form bonds with others, and vice versa. to the casual observer he would come off as nothing more than an elder man immersed in his pursuits of antiques. to someone looking for something more, they would have to cross that bridge when they got to it.

to put it simply, he just didn't notice when he was being propositioned. perhaps it is as much Childe's hunger as his own that has him responding in kind, giving responses that could be taken as either playful or coquettish in nature, alluding to the promise of a shared bed and a long, enduring night of passion between the both of them.

it is telling that that gets a response from him, stirring long-since dormant urges and instincts and the desire to propagate a new generation of adepti. equally telling is the consideration he gives the thought as he ascends the stairs proper, pushing his way through an inconspicuous door and emerging out into a modest living room. like the cluttered, dusty antique shop on the ground floor there are precious relics in spades; some taking up residence on a coffee table that curves under the weight, others lined up on the mantle like an assortment of priceless treasures.

amidst the rusty, worn trinkets of the past are a smattering of precious stones and ores of good, fist-shaped size and a stack of musty old tomes in some indecipherable language.

it is here that Zhongli pauses, turning to ensure his charge has arrived behind him, and he nods to the couch that currently boasts a blanket thin enough to be categorized as a sheet. ]

I do not think it worth asking, but would you prefer the couch or the bed?