[ he invites childe over for tea often. actually, he might have extended his very first invitation during the first few days childe set foot in the city. part of this is something like courtesy; liyue is a historied and cultured nation after all. it's only good manners to be hospitable to foreigners. especially if it might grease some palms and soothe some egos in order to conduct business.
even if the fatui's idea of 'business' can be... shady, to put it politely. bloodthirsty maybe, to put it more pessimistically. but liyue is a large and prosperous nation with strong and unified faith in its god, which provides an intimidating enough check for mercenaries to not go running around assassinating people and forcing a power struggle. the most unfriendly contact zhongli has with the fatui is, perhaps, childe refusing to pay for one-too-many expensive rare books or artifacts they come across when they go window shopping. like a good host, zhongli had taken it upon himself to familiarize childe with the city, with its rich cuisine, with its traditions and culture and the warm thriving life of the nation's heart in liyue harbor. inviting childe to tea, to various festivals and events, to liyue's most famous restaurants--to the undiscerning eye, it's nothing more than a proud liyue citizen showing off their country to a foreigner. maybe coincidentally forgetting to pay for everything in the process, but what's a little spending expense (or a lot) between friends?
to the discerning eye, or possibly only his own--his golden eye studies the fatui with unwavering steadfast intent, like a reptile eyeing a new predator venturing into its territory and speculating on when the other beast might attack.
he isn't disappointed when it happens. when childe strikes, he goes all out. unchaining an ancient god's wrath and pointing it directly at the heart of the nation... surely liyue's native god couldn't let something like that pass without comment, right? never mind whether he tolerated the fatui within his city, whether he'd anticipated childe's mission here as a threat towards rex lapis, whether he'd forged his contract with the ice goddess long ago--the logic and machinations between gods are one thing. a mortal daring to try to destroy his country, the country he'd protected for thousands of years, is another.
so, the invite to tea. after osial is bombarded back to the depths of the ocean, after childe watches him deposit his glowing gnosis into la signora's palm, after he conducts the funeral rites for his own false corpse--his letter is delivered to childe at the northland bank. You seemed to be rather upset last we saw each other. Would a talk over tea help?
Meet me at the funeral parlor tea room.
short and simple and probably not betraying much. through the year or so they've known each other, childe would probably know best how generally unflappable zhongli is. poised and patient, he navigated through even the angriest altercations with rude barterers at the market like an expert sailor through choppy stormy waters. he tended to bow out of arguments even when it came to history or various other subjects he seemed to know like the back of his hand, preferring to let others simply believe what they may. to a stranger, it would seem almost surreal that he never appeared to get angry or upset, almost inhumanly so.
whether childe is a stranger enough to believe that is up to him. and maybe 'human' didn't quite fit zhongli anyway in the first place.
when childe arrives to the tea room zhongli would already be there, placidly pouring two cups. ]
[ Truthfully, this is not how he'd expected his continued stay in Liyue to go.
Childe knew that after his attempt at summoning Osial to drown the harbor had fallen to pieces - with a combination of the Traveler's own hand and the Qixing pulling together a plan out of their asses at the last moment, something he hadn't taken into account given how the city had still been reeling after the death of their beloved Archon - that he would be ostracized, muttered about in angry tones while being labeled a disturber of the peace for the rest of his stay.
This he'd expected; he even welcomed it, because why should he concern himself with the opinions of his lessers? He would invite every single one of them to prove their opinions and judgements through vicious combat, hell, he wanted them to do it, but of course they were all too cowardly to even meet his eyes.
The shunning he'd expected, even if the Qixing wrote off Rex Lapis' death as the result of a failed trial. It hadn't helped matters; the Fatui still weren't well-liked and there were a few stubborn old codgers that refused to budge from their opinion that the Snezhnayan diplomats somehow had a hand in the death of their beloved god, if only because how could Rex Lapis fail a trial, he was the Prime Adeptus, etc, etc.
If Childe hadn't been of the same mind early on when he was still trying to figure out why the Qixing were so determined to hide Morax's corpse away, he'd be more offended. But of course he'd always been just a step behind Zhongli and that was probably what infuriated him the most.
No - what was unexpected was the fact that even after all that, Zhongli had sent him a correspondence. The letter had already been sitting on his desk when he'd walked in that morning, and after ripping it open and skimming the contents of it Childe felt something within him snap.
Ekaterina was just finishing placing an order for new furniture for Childe's destroyed office by the time the Harbinger strode out of the bank, his scarf billowing violently behind him as he slammed the door shut. By the time he'd made his way to the funeral parlor much of the seething anger had subsided into an eerie calmness, and after ducking past the front desk he made his way through the building to where he knew Zhongli would be waiting for him.
He doesn't knock or announce his presence, merely walks in, and unsurprisingly Zhongli is waiting for him with two fresh cups of tea steaming on the table. ]
Zhongli. [ He says by way of greeting. ] Or would you prefer I call you Morax?
[ 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. ]
[ It's perhaps a mark of his maturity - or perhaps how easily his anger could be sated with destroying furniture - that he's able to rein himself in enough not to immediately respond to Zhongli's comment with physical violence.
But it's telling, the way his fingers curl into a fist over the table and the way he sits - because he does, inevitably, sit, all but throwing himself into the chair opposite Zhongli like he wants to break that, too - with an undercurrent of violence hidden beneath his actions.
To someone as old as Zhongli, perhaps he appears more like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. ]
Is it not your name? Rex Lapis is what your people call you. I'm sure you're well aware, I am not one of your people. So you are Morax to me.
[ There's meaning behind his sharper smile, the way his eyes harden and chill like the everlasting storms surrounding Snezhnaya. He's emphasizing the divide between them, burning the olive branch and stamping it to embers without a second thought. He's still a diplomat here, and a heavily disliked one, at that, so his options for retribution are fairly limited until he gets transferred out of the city.
It's unsurprising that his tea remains untouched. ]
You've played me for a fool and yet you still want to play at being my friend. I nearly drowned your precious harbor, and you invite me out for tea. I'm tired of your games, Morax; if there's something you want, just say it. It's the least you could do, after all your schemes.
[ 'your people' thrown out so sharply almost makes him bristle. could there be a limit to impudence, and could childe reach it? 'his people'--regardless of the treaties and contracts and agreements between gods, he knew almost the very moment childe had touched down in liyue that the man was here to undermine, to contrive. liyue is his land, almost as much a part of him as this creation of a body. he as the native god incognito had attempted to receive childe kindly and with grace.
the people of liyue now might shun and suspect childe now, but are they necessarily wrong to? zhongli lets out a long breath, warms his gloved hands around his own cup. of which that too is going cold, like the warmth of his good will. ]
You can call me what you want. It doesn't terribly matter to me. The fact of the matter is Morax is dead, Rex Lapis is gone. I've intended to bury those names and those identities with the rite of parting. [ to close one chapter of his long 6000 years of life and... 'open' another isn't exactly right, when he plans on this being his last identity. still, ] I see the time for light conversation and tea has passed for the two of us, has it? Should I have invited you out for dinner like we had, so many times before? Or would you be in danger of overthrowing a table and causing a scene?
[ niceties, decorum, serenity define and adorn him like the dragons on his greatcoat. it takes a special person to begin to strip those away from him, but then again childe is the man who had attempted to drown his city. even a millennia-year-old deity could start to lose a bit of patience, just a fraction. he had never tolerated such threats to his country in the past. could he have mellowed out enough to change now?
... ] If you're so impatient to get to the point of our talk, then I'll oblige you. We know each other decently well enough now, I know you're a man of action rather than words. [ whereas zhongli might be a bit long-spoken, but his actions, or rex lapis', speak for themselves in history books and ancient tales of war and prophecy. ] You're right, of course. There's something I want from you.
I want you to repent.
[ a phenomenon for western gods rather than himself, but he finds the desire and concept of it now appealing.
childe had attempted to take his godhood and to destroy his country. maybe a prayer of remorse could sate a god's wrath for such arrogance. ]
[ Surely it isn't fair of Zhongli to assume that Childe would overthrow a table when all he's done is spit out venom in response to the (former) Archon's good will. Are not friends allowed to fight? Are they not permitted to strike at each other with blows and barbs over some perceived slight, even if Childe's own fault lay in his attempt to drown the harbor? If Zhongli were to concede anything to him, surely it would be the notion that their relationship went far beyond simple acquaintances. The fact that Childe was this angry says as much.
It's nothing like the hurt and betrayal popularized in so many of those tragic love stories between two characters on opposite sides. He's not nearly as soft hearted as to let those kinds of emotions get the best of him even on his worst day. Rather - it was, on the one hand, a matter of trust. Despite what little he'd initially placed in Zhongli, he'd trusted the man not to one-up him like this, not to make him a laughingstock without expressly warning him first.
Truth be told, he hadn't thought Zhongli capable of such deceit. And that was where a bulk of his anger lay. Not that the man had stomped all over his pretty feelings, but more for the simple fact that Childe had lost, without the man even really trying. Sure, he'd made sure to keep Childe in the dark for as much as possible - but in the end Zhongli had always had a plan laid out. He'd been one step ahead of him the entire way, and that - perhaps that was what was so frustrating. That Childe had been so blind, so novice to not recognize the signs when he saw them.
It makes him drown Zhongli with the tea. There's ways to do it, he knows. But he also knows it probably wouldn't affect an Archon much, if at all. ]
No. [ The word makes his lip curl. ] I'm sure we're long past all that, Morax.
[ Even now Zhongli looks at him, he thinks, like Childe is beneath him. Like the battle has already been decided without them even coming to blows.
He's not sure if it's that that makes him angrier, or the words that he says next. Probably a mixture of both.
He wants me to what? ]
Repent. [ Childe repeats the word, incredulous. ] Repent for what? Wasn't it your plan to put Liyue in some form of mortal peril, all for the sake of testing your precious harbor? You cannot put the blame solely on me, Morax. Don't claim to be fully innocent of what you've sowed.
You conspired with Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your little test. I was enlisted to play the fool, and nothing more. If you didn't like my methods, in all your infinite wisdom, maybe next time it should be your hand that pulls the trigger instead of getting someone else to do your dirty work for you.
I will not repent. Not when I've done nothing wrong. [ He doesn't bother to stand, but the challenge is there, a fire in his eyes, the muscle jumping in his jaw. ] You'll have to wring it from my body with your own two hands.
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even if the fatui's idea of 'business' can be... shady, to put it politely. bloodthirsty maybe, to put it more pessimistically. but liyue is a large and prosperous nation with strong and unified faith in its god, which provides an intimidating enough check for mercenaries to not go running around assassinating people and forcing a power struggle. the most unfriendly contact zhongli has with the fatui is, perhaps, childe refusing to pay for one-too-many expensive rare books or artifacts they come across when they go window shopping. like a good host, zhongli had taken it upon himself to familiarize childe with the city, with its rich cuisine, with its traditions and culture and the warm thriving life of the nation's heart in liyue harbor. inviting childe to tea, to various festivals and events, to liyue's most famous restaurants--to the undiscerning eye, it's nothing more than a proud liyue citizen showing off their country to a foreigner. maybe coincidentally forgetting to pay for everything in the process, but what's a little spending expense (or a lot) between friends?
to the discerning eye, or possibly only his own--his golden eye studies the fatui with unwavering steadfast intent, like a reptile eyeing a new predator venturing into its territory and speculating on when the other beast might attack.
he isn't disappointed when it happens. when childe strikes, he goes all out. unchaining an ancient god's wrath and pointing it directly at the heart of the nation... surely liyue's native god couldn't let something like that pass without comment, right? never mind whether he tolerated the fatui within his city, whether he'd anticipated childe's mission here as a threat towards rex lapis, whether he'd forged his contract with the ice goddess long ago--the logic and machinations between gods are one thing. a mortal daring to try to destroy his country, the country he'd protected for thousands of years, is another.
so, the invite to tea. after osial is bombarded back to the depths of the ocean, after childe watches him deposit his glowing gnosis into la signora's palm, after he conducts the funeral rites for his own false corpse--his letter is delivered to childe at the northland bank. You seemed to be rather upset last we saw each other. Would a talk over tea help?
Meet me at the funeral parlor tea room.
short and simple and probably not betraying much. through the year or so they've known each other, childe would probably know best how generally unflappable zhongli is. poised and patient, he navigated through even the angriest altercations with rude barterers at the market like an expert sailor through choppy stormy waters. he tended to bow out of arguments even when it came to history or various other subjects he seemed to know like the back of his hand, preferring to let others simply believe what they may. to a stranger, it would seem almost surreal that he never appeared to get angry or upset, almost inhumanly so.
whether childe is a stranger enough to believe that is up to him. and maybe 'human' didn't quite fit zhongli anyway in the first place.
when childe arrives to the tea room zhongli would already be there, placidly pouring two cups. ]
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Childe knew that after his attempt at summoning Osial to drown the harbor had fallen to pieces - with a combination of the Traveler's own hand and the Qixing pulling together a plan out of their asses at the last moment, something he hadn't taken into account given how the city had still been reeling after the death of their beloved Archon - that he would be ostracized, muttered about in angry tones while being labeled a disturber of the peace for the rest of his stay.
This he'd expected; he even welcomed it, because why should he concern himself with the opinions of his lessers? He would invite every single one of them to prove their opinions and judgements through vicious combat, hell, he wanted them to do it, but of course they were all too cowardly to even meet his eyes.
The shunning he'd expected, even if the Qixing wrote off Rex Lapis' death as the result of a failed trial. It hadn't helped matters; the Fatui still weren't well-liked and there were a few stubborn old codgers that refused to budge from their opinion that the Snezhnayan diplomats somehow had a hand in the death of their beloved god, if only because how could Rex Lapis fail a trial, he was the Prime Adeptus, etc, etc.
If Childe hadn't been of the same mind early on when he was still trying to figure out why the Qixing were so determined to hide Morax's corpse away, he'd be more offended. But of course he'd always been just a step behind Zhongli and that was probably what infuriated him the most.
No - what was unexpected was the fact that even after all that, Zhongli had sent him a correspondence. The letter had already been sitting on his desk when he'd walked in that morning, and after ripping it open and skimming the contents of it Childe felt something within him snap.
Ekaterina was just finishing placing an order for new furniture for Childe's destroyed office by the time the Harbinger strode out of the bank, his scarf billowing violently behind him as he slammed the door shut. By the time he'd made his way to the funeral parlor much of the seething anger had subsided into an eerie calmness, and after ducking past the front desk he made his way through the building to where he knew Zhongli would be waiting for him.
He doesn't knock or announce his presence, merely walks in, and unsurprisingly Zhongli is waiting for him with two fresh cups of tea steaming on the table. ]
Zhongli. [ He says by way of greeting. ] Or would you prefer I call you Morax?
[ He doesn't take a seat. ]
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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. ]
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But it's telling, the way his fingers curl into a fist over the table and the way he sits - because he does, inevitably, sit, all but throwing himself into the chair opposite Zhongli like he wants to break that, too - with an undercurrent of violence hidden beneath his actions.
To someone as old as Zhongli, perhaps he appears more like a child on the verge of throwing a tantrum. ]
Is it not your name? Rex Lapis is what your people call you. I'm sure you're well aware, I am not one of your people. So you are Morax to me.
[ There's meaning behind his sharper smile, the way his eyes harden and chill like the everlasting storms surrounding Snezhnaya. He's emphasizing the divide between them, burning the olive branch and stamping it to embers without a second thought. He's still a diplomat here, and a heavily disliked one, at that, so his options for retribution are fairly limited until he gets transferred out of the city.
It's unsurprising that his tea remains untouched. ]
You've played me for a fool and yet you still want to play at being my friend. I nearly drowned your precious harbor, and you invite me out for tea. I'm tired of your games, Morax; if there's something you want, just say it. It's the least you could do, after all your schemes.
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the people of liyue now might shun and suspect childe now, but are they necessarily wrong to? zhongli lets out a long breath, warms his gloved hands around his own cup. of which that too is going cold, like the warmth of his good will. ]
You can call me what you want. It doesn't terribly matter to me. The fact of the matter is Morax is dead, Rex Lapis is gone. I've intended to bury those names and those identities with the rite of parting. [ to close one chapter of his long 6000 years of life and... 'open' another isn't exactly right, when he plans on this being his last identity. still, ] I see the time for light conversation and tea has passed for the two of us, has it? Should I have invited you out for dinner like we had, so many times before? Or would you be in danger of overthrowing a table and causing a scene?
[ niceties, decorum, serenity define and adorn him like the dragons on his greatcoat. it takes a special person to begin to strip those away from him, but then again childe is the man who had attempted to drown his city. even a millennia-year-old deity could start to lose a bit of patience, just a fraction. he had never tolerated such threats to his country in the past. could he have mellowed out enough to change now?
... ] If you're so impatient to get to the point of our talk, then I'll oblige you. We know each other decently well enough now, I know you're a man of action rather than words. [ whereas zhongli might be a bit long-spoken, but his actions, or rex lapis', speak for themselves in history books and ancient tales of war and prophecy. ] You're right, of course. There's something I want from you.
I want you to repent.
[ a phenomenon for western gods rather than himself, but he finds the desire and concept of it now appealing.
childe had attempted to take his godhood and to destroy his country. maybe a prayer of remorse could sate a god's wrath for such arrogance. ]
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It's nothing like the hurt and betrayal popularized in so many of those tragic love stories between two characters on opposite sides. He's not nearly as soft hearted as to let those kinds of emotions get the best of him even on his worst day. Rather - it was, on the one hand, a matter of trust. Despite what little he'd initially placed in Zhongli, he'd trusted the man not to one-up him like this, not to make him a laughingstock without expressly warning him first.
Truth be told, he hadn't thought Zhongli capable of such deceit. And that was where a bulk of his anger lay. Not that the man had stomped all over his pretty feelings, but more for the simple fact that Childe had lost, without the man even really trying. Sure, he'd made sure to keep Childe in the dark for as much as possible - but in the end Zhongli had always had a plan laid out. He'd been one step ahead of him the entire way, and that - perhaps that was what was so frustrating. That Childe had been so blind, so novice to not recognize the signs when he saw them.
It makes him drown Zhongli with the tea. There's ways to do it, he knows. But he also knows it probably wouldn't affect an Archon much, if at all. ]
No. [ The word makes his lip curl. ] I'm sure we're long past all that, Morax.
[ Even now Zhongli looks at him, he thinks, like Childe is beneath him. Like the battle has already been decided without them even coming to blows.
He's not sure if it's that that makes him angrier, or the words that he says next. Probably a mixture of both.
He wants me to what? ]
Repent. [ Childe repeats the word, incredulous. ] Repent for what? Wasn't it your plan to put Liyue in some form of mortal peril, all for the sake of testing your precious harbor? You cannot put the blame solely on me, Morax. Don't claim to be fully innocent of what you've sowed.
You conspired with Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your little test. I was enlisted to play the fool, and nothing more. If you didn't like my methods, in all your infinite wisdom, maybe next time it should be your hand that pulls the trigger instead of getting someone else to do your dirty work for you.
I will not repent. Not when I've done nothing wrong. [ He doesn't bother to stand, but the challenge is there, a fire in his eyes, the muscle jumping in his jaw. ] You'll have to wring it from my body with your own two hands.