[ well if it's not obvious already that childe may be upset at him, it is now. ]
That name, rather than Rex Lapis? [ he observes, over the rim of his cup, childe strolling in through the door casually as ever but maybe with a barely-noticeable edge to his stride or the line of his shoulders. 'morax' coming from childe's mouth in such a controlled tone, rather than the lighthearted 'zhongli!' and 'xiansheng~' and the like. what an interesting new flavor of childe he's seeing now. ] Neither of those gods' names necessarily applies to me now.
[ his own words are mild as always, the way he always is when, say, admiring nice weather or pointing out talented artisanry while shopping at a market or elaborating on the history of this or that ritual or tradition. actually, that might be wrong. there's always a quiet warmth to his voice whenever he talks about any aspect of his country, the country he had nurtured and protected for six thousand years, the wealth and culture of his country he'd wax poetic about even to foreign agents he's certain were working to conspire against him and the nation. like childe.
the mild look he levels at childe is somewhat measured, calculative. the small quirk to his smile betrays little as he nods to the seat opposite him at the low table. childe's cup of loose leaf white tea is cooling. ]
You've always known me as Zhongli, does that have to change? [ does anything have to change now, after both of their deceptions are revealed? after zhongli playing childe as a fool, after childe attempting to drown his capital city. what has to change, really? maybe putting some fear of god in childe. ]
no subject
That name, rather than Rex Lapis? [ he observes, over the rim of his cup, childe strolling in through the door casually as ever but maybe with a barely-noticeable edge to his stride or the line of his shoulders. 'morax' coming from childe's mouth in such a controlled tone, rather than the lighthearted 'zhongli!' and 'xiansheng~' and the like. what an interesting new flavor of childe he's seeing now. ] Neither of those gods' names necessarily applies to me now.
[ his own words are mild as always, the way he always is when, say, admiring nice weather or pointing out talented artisanry while shopping at a market or elaborating on the history of this or that ritual or tradition. actually, that might be wrong. there's always a quiet warmth to his voice whenever he talks about any aspect of his country, the country he had nurtured and protected for six thousand years, the wealth and culture of his country he'd wax poetic about even to foreign agents he's certain were working to conspire against him and the nation. like childe.
the mild look he levels at childe is somewhat measured, calculative. the small quirk to his smile betrays little as he nods to the seat opposite him at the low table. childe's cup of loose leaf white tea is cooling. ]
You've always known me as Zhongli, does that have to change? [ does anything have to change now, after both of their deceptions are revealed? after zhongli playing childe as a fool, after childe attempting to drown his capital city. what has to change, really? maybe putting some fear of god in childe. ]