[ Ah. The wrong thing to say -- because truly where is home? It is not here - comfortable a house as this is nestled in the city of Springstar. This is not Childe's home nor it is Zhongli's. It is just a place to rest and recuperate as they move further and further into what--- who can say?
So then where - where could home possibly be? Is it the two shards that Childe keeps close and protected - the two material items more precious to him than life itself? Is it kept with the Meridians who think that one day that they can all go back home to their worlds as if this tragedy had never occurred? A path that neither of them had chosen to take even if it's the one that would soothe their pain the most.
Where is home? ]
I do not---
[ The vision hits him suddenly and unexpectedly, and before Zhongli can even parse that he is staring at the halls of Zapolyarny Palace, the black sinew is moving again. Zhongli reaches up to grasp at it, to free Childe's arm again - tar-like wet substance clinging to the bare skin of his palm. Useless. Useless. Why is he so---? Dozens of eyes open to up and stare at him - watching, judging, waiting. They silently ask questions that Zhongli has no answers to and offer nothing but cold indisputable dismissal.
Zhongli is not welcome here.
Wood splinters across his back as Zhongli's body skids to a halt outside the doorway. For a moment that lasts an eternity, pain laces up his frame as thuds against the hardwood floor. The tendrils recede back into the depths of the bedroom, Childe's strung up taut frame completely out of sight. There's nothing visible of this terrifying entity except the still corpses of the amputated limbs and the steady drip drip drip of black ichor from the walls and ceiling.
It takes many moments to get to his feet, many more to heave and shove the decorative table in the hallway up against what remained of Childe's bedroom door. The disbelief that it takes so much effort to do such a simple task has tipped over the threshold to now be a handicap. If he could not help Childe here and now, how could he be of use to any of the children of Teyvat? How could he hope to help any of them in this weak mortal form?
What was once a choice now seems more of an inevitability - just as he taken up arms to protect the people of Liyue. He had to protect his people, and that was no different now. No different except he knew the price to be paid if he did not approach the powers that be with the correct amount of forethought and negotiation. A mistake he would not make again. ]
I will return.
[ A whispered contract to himself (one that holds no weight in this mortal form) as Zhongli pushes off to head out of the house and directly to Yima's manor. ]
cw: eldritch horror
So then where - where could home possibly be? Is it the two shards that Childe keeps close and protected - the two material items more precious to him than life itself? Is it kept with the Meridians who think that one day that they can all go back home to their worlds as if this tragedy had never occurred? A path that neither of them had chosen to take even if it's the one that would soothe their pain the most.
Where is home? ]
I do not---
[ The vision hits him suddenly and unexpectedly, and before Zhongli can even parse that he is staring at the halls of Zapolyarny Palace, the black sinew is moving again. Zhongli reaches up to grasp at it, to free Childe's arm again - tar-like wet substance clinging to the bare skin of his palm. Useless. Useless. Why is he so---? Dozens of eyes open to up and stare at him - watching, judging, waiting. They silently ask questions that Zhongli has no answers to and offer nothing but cold indisputable dismissal.
Zhongli is not welcome here.
Wood splinters across his back as Zhongli's body skids to a halt outside the doorway. For a moment that lasts an eternity, pain laces up his frame as thuds against the hardwood floor. The tendrils recede back into the depths of the bedroom, Childe's strung up taut frame completely out of sight. There's nothing visible of this terrifying entity except the still corpses of the amputated limbs and the steady drip drip drip of black ichor from the walls and ceiling.
It takes many moments to get to his feet, many more to heave and shove the decorative table in the hallway up against what remained of Childe's bedroom door. The disbelief that it takes so much effort to do such a simple task has tipped over the threshold to now be a handicap. If he could not help Childe here and now, how could he be of use to any of the children of Teyvat? How could he hope to help any of them in this weak mortal form?
What was once a choice now seems more of an inevitability - just as he taken up arms to protect the people of Liyue. He had to protect his people, and that was no different now. No different except he knew the price to be paid if he did not approach the powers that be with the correct amount of forethought and negotiation. A mistake he would not make again. ]
I will return.
[ A whispered contract to himself (one that holds no weight in this mortal form) as Zhongli pushes off to head out of the house and directly to Yima's manor. ]