[closed] with kia

[toyska]

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[toyska]

[So—-listen. Sometimes, you are just very similar sorts of people. Sometimes, duty comes before all, and your loyalties and focus are unwavering, for better or for worse.

For many reasons, obvious and otherwise, Childe doesn’t reach out to too many people from the station on his own. He has plenty of work to do, for one thing. For another, he’s perfectly aware that most of the people he stayed on good terms with have their own duties and loyalties to contend with. They all need a little time.

So it’s a few months, perhaps, before he contacts her. Primrose is one of the few people he’s willing to message first, though he keeps it simple.]

How’s business?

[“Business”, of course, being what she’d needed to take care of back home. But it’s more of a way to test the waters, to see if she’s able, and willing, to respond at all.]

[femmefinale]

[ She hasn't made any effort to reach out to anyone. Gu Yun texts sometimes and she'll respond, but he has a happy life with Molly and she's content to let things remain as they are.

She has a man to viciously murder for all the hell he put her through.

So when she gets a message, long after that, it takes her a bit to respond. Some things are better left behind her. Childe...

... Well, she isn't sure where to place him, but he will eventually get a message. ]

Concluded.

[ It's. Well, it's succinct. She's never been too great at texting. ]

[toyska]

[That's fine, it took him ages to get used to it too. Even now, it's one of his least favorite forms of communication, but, eh. Needs must.]

Wonderful. Then I won't feel guilty for asking if you've time to spare for a visit? There's a travelling storyteller in town.

[As if he'd feel guilty anyway but look, it's fine. She's welcome to say no, if she wants--he won't hold it against her. There's no ulterior motive for this message, just a simple desire to check in on someone who'd stood by him once, when he arguably didn't deserve it. Childe isn't one to forget easily.

Case in point--she'd mentioned, once, that it was a shame she didn't have time to catch the tales of storytellers more often. He remembers that, too, though it's decidedly more innocuous. Perhaps the storyteller's presence reminded him, or perhaps he'd just been thinking of her lately. Who knows!]

[femmefinale]

[ ... He'd remembered. A talk from long ago, about dancing and storytelling. It's enough to catch her by surprise, so much that again, it takes some time to answer.

It might just be a whim of his. Maybe he doesn't remember.

But no, Childe is too sharp for that. If there's something he wants from her presence, she likely won't learn of it until she sees him for herself.

Primrose gazes in the mirror, at the young woman with her hair tumbling down her back, clad in a dress that she'd worn as a noble. It... still seems out of place, after everything she's been through. Like she's trying to slip back into a role she's long since grown out of and the fit is now far too uncomfortable.

And with a sigh, she reaches for a hair tie. ]

If you'll act as my escort, I suppose I can set some time aside for you.

[toyska]

Of course! I've learned from the best tour guides. [Zhongli is a terrible tour guide, Childe, shut up. HE'S NOT EVEN IN LIYUE.] I'll ready a coat for you.

[Snezhnayan summers are mild compared to their winters, but it's still not warm. And since he's picturing how she'd dressed at the station, he's pretty convinced she'll turn into a popsicle before they even leave his house unless he gets her some warm layers.]

[femmefinale]

[ Listen, she's survived snowy areas in that attire, she could manage maybe.

But she also doesn't protest, and when she steps out wherever the device takes her, she can definitely feel the difference immediately. ]

Well, don't you look as charmingly troublesome as ever?

[toyska]

[Were it regular snow, he'd probably believe that! But perpetual ice magic is a bit different. At least it isn't winter; maybe that's part of the reason he waited so long to reach out? A mystery.

But look, he's the caretaker type, okay. It's been a while, let him spoil her a little.

At least she'll emerge indoors--it's relatively warm in here, and it's immediately obvious why. A fireplace crackles with life against one wall, with a plush rug spread in front of it. The room is spacious and well-lit apart from that, with lights seamlessly built into the walls. There are a couple of plush couches with soft blankets on them, and a large, arched window with the curtains drawn on one wall--a writing desk with various stacks of papers is tucked into a separate corner, and a cabinet stands nearby. She's probably seen plenty of houses like this; the sort of wealth that doesn't need to be ostentatious to be overt. This is not a poor man's manor.

The doors to the room are closed, but if she listens, she can probably hear soft voices or footsteps outside of it. Wouldn't it be funny if Childe wasn't even in the room--but no, he's here! Standing, leaning back against the desk and looking at the phone, since they were just chatting and all. He looks up at the shifting of the air, and smiles brightly when he sees her, putting his phone down on the desk and pushing off of it to approach.]

Ahaha, I suppose they do say a fox can't change its fur.

[Perhaps if they'd reunited any sooner, he'd lean down and kiss her cheek or something--but as it stands, he just extends a hand for her to take. If she does, he'll squeeze it lightly, smile softening.]

It's good to see you, Primrose.

[femmefinale]

[ She's lived in a place like this. Signs of wealth, proof without being a braggart about it. Her father had made it a point not to flaunt their status, to demonstrate they were Azelharts through conduct and conviction rather than nobles who knew little but arrogance.

She tilts her head just a little, at the sound of murmured conversation, other presences. As ever, Primrose is alert, poised to react-- but Childe steps forward and extends his hand and perhaps it tells more than anything she could ever say that Primrose takes it within two seconds.

She dips into a curtsey, then raises his hand to her lips to leave a light kiss on top of it. Clearly, she has no such qualms after their time apart. ]

I hadn't ever expected to see you again, Tartaglia. You didn't strike me as the nostalgic type-- at the very least, not for our particular group.

[toyska]

[Oh, well--there's a flash of surprise on his face, the look of someone who's clearly fallen out of the habit of casual intimacy. But if she's comfortable with it, then he isn't going to hesitate to lace their fingers together.]

No? [He seems a little amused at this assessment, unsurprising though it is.] I'll grant you that I've had my priorities, but isn't it more that they have no desire to speak to me again?

[He didn't dislike any of them (except for MILES THE RUDEASS LAWYER). But he's smart enough to know that the people who grudgingly tolerated him probably don't want to hear from him again, and if he wanted to be met with vitriol and disdain, all he'd have to do is go back to Liyue. As for those who bore him no ill will, and those he was most fond of...]

I would've been happy to contact you sooner, but I was out on assignment. And I didn't know how long it would take you to, ah, wrap up your "business".

[femmefinale]

Longer than I would have liked. [ a tad dryly, as she gazes down at their interlaced fingers.

Childe was... complicated. Thrilling, absolutely one to dote for as strange as that seemed, and so utterly clever that it made him all the more dangerous for it. She'd never approved of his choice of target, but even after everything, she can't deny she's fond of him.

Terrible, really. Maybe she truly did have bad taste. ]

But wrapped up, nonetheless. [ She has a few new scars from the last time he'd seen her, from a fight she had thrown everything into. ] And I had no intention of reaching out, after that.

[ But then he had reached out first. ]

[toyska]

[A nod; a little sympathetic, but otherwise unsurprised. He'd had no doubt she would accomplish her goals, after all. He'd seen firsthand how steady her determined hand could be. No setbacks or delays could alter the path of her blade.

It's the rest of what she says that has him looking at her with curiosity.]

Not to anyone?

[She'd seemed very close to some of the others. Does she mean to him in particular?]

[femmefinale]

[ She nods, firmly. ]

Not to anyone. They had their paths to walk, new and continued, and I had mine. I had no intention of interfering with that.

[ She'd been fond of quite a few of them, but it was best not to linger on sentimentality. ]

[toyska]

[He hums softly, in acknowledgment of that. A thought seems to pass behind his eyes, like he's on the verge of saying something--but whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

Instead--]

Am I disrupting your principles, then?

[It's a real question, but he says it with a certain amount of lightness. She wouldn't be here if she didn't want to be, he knows that. He won't do her the disservice of thinking she'd let him force her into anything.]

and now, a departure for fluff

[toyska]

[Contrary to the beliefs of some, Childe is not stupid, or reckless, or even particularly crazy--

--okay, maybe that last one is debatable. But it's true in the sense that he would not spirit someone away from their home world on a whim, no matter how honest he'd been about the offer.

He had meant it, too, when he'd said she was welcome to stay as long as she wished--but all the same, he hadn't lied about how often he needed to travel. The temptation to shirk his duties and luxuriate in her companionship for a while had been strong, but not strong enough to turn him irresponsible, and when the missive for his next assignment arrived, he'd accepted it without fuss. Parting ways is nothing new to him; parting with warm affection, with a long kiss and an unspoken promise to keep the door open between them, is something else. It buoys his mood, even as he sets off for Inazuma alone.

It's for the best, anyway. She doesn't need protecting from him, doesn't need to be shielded from who he is when he's at his most vicious--but there's also no reason for her to see it, especially when she isn't Fatui. Not to mention, Inazuma's a bit of a disaster zone; he misses Prim almost as soon as they part ways, but he's not sorry to have spared her the mess.

(And if he's giving her room to change her mind, halfway expecting her to decide she has no interest in staining her hands by holding his, well. It's hardly irrational.)

Still, there's a change: this time, he doesn't let their communication channel close so easily. He's written regular letters to his family since he was 14 years old, and it's no trouble--it's a joy, even--to add messages to Primrose to his list of recipients. He uses the phone more than he ever did at the station, sending her photos and describing scenery and anecdotes whenever he finds a moment.

Scaramouche slips through the Fatui's fingers, which is annoying, but only a little. No one ever evades them for long, and Scaramouche has no intention of skulking in the shadows forever. Childe is certain of that. It's just a waiting game now.

So it is that he finds himself on the road back to Morepesok, tapping out a message before he reaches the village itself. He'd begun the conversation with her this morning, letting her know where he's headed--but he'd saved this question for this moment on purpose. If she says no, he'll immediately be too distracted by his family to feel too disappointed.]

I don't suppose you'd care to join me while I'm here? Perhaps Tonia will have mercy on me for such a long absence if I bring a dear friend along.

[femmefinale]

[ Primrose finds herself a bit bewildered by... all of this. It's hardly domestic, this relationship of theirs, but even the tension between them feels comfortable. As though no matter what she says, no matter how likely she is to slip away, no matter--

Childe accepts it all, with fondness and no real sense of judgment. And she doesn't ask questions pertaining to his missions, because do the answers truly matter at this point? She lets him go and returns to Orsterra, his kiss lingering on her lips far longer than she thinks is strictly necessary to reflect on the warmth of it.

She... does not expect the messages-- his way of maintaining a steady flow of contact, perhaps. He does love to write, doesn't he? And his pictures tell a story, when his words need clarity. He's showing her more than he needs to, and her replies are never as long, kept to succinct responses.

But she does reply, even as she visits Ophilia and H'aanit to purchase thicker clothing for colder climates and explains nothing. This particular answer, though, takes a little longer before it comes.

His family. This could mean nothing. He's proud of his family, surely he could bring any companion to meet them. It's just a simple offer.

She pointedly does not feel any unease at the thought of being disliked on sight. ]

Or you'll be set upon with questions. But I have no other plans, so I suppose I can cut in on yours.

[ There. Casual. ]

[toyska]

Ahaha, that would happen anyway!

[He's been gone far too long to avoid that fate, no matter how many letters he's sent along.

But it's not a no. He picks up on that right away, and he grins into his scarf. His reply, in turn, is swift and simple, easily honest.]

Then I'd like to have you, if you want to come. I have a spare coat, but you'll want to dress warmly anyway.

[They're not going to the manor, after all. And there's only so much he can do about fancy heating devices when his family has no intention of moving out of his old, decidedly not-fancy childhood home.]

[femmefinale]

You needn't be concerned. I've since prepared myself so I won't have to avail myself of your own wardrobe. I'll meet you shortly.

[ She's not one for fanfare or pomp, so unless he tells her to meet him at a later designated time, she'll make her appearance sooner rather than later. As promised, she'd clad much more sensibly, skirt and top both fur-lined, a little extra fur on the shoulders, the material thick but soft to the touch. She would have boiled in Sunshade, but this? Here, it's perfect. ]

Will this do?

[ With a slow turn, for effect. ]

[toyska]

[He's halfway through a response when she appears, and he looks up with a bright smile from where he's leaning against the outside of--something like a carriage, anyway. If carriages were wrought metal and hooked to odd contraptions akin to wheeled horses with faintly glowing eyes.]

If it doesn't, we have a trick or two that should make up for it. [Tucking his phone away, he bends down to greet her with a kiss--no hesitation, this time.] You look lovely, as always.

[Childe himself is bundled up as well, a rare sight for someone who defaults to showing skin even when he shouldn't. But it's easily obvious why; the road they're on is little more than a well-trodden ice path, flanked on each side by thick snowbanks and snow-drenched forest. Even now, flakes fall from the ever-gray sky, but they're gentle and slow for the moment.]

[femmefinale]

[ Kisses for the sake of affection, fondness... to Primrose, there's still a rarity about them. She's still far too accustomed to kisses for a purpose. Kisses as weapons, yet another thing tucked into her arsenal to get her further on her quest for revenge. This is simple and sweet and she hesitates to let herself linger on the thought of it, though the fact that she doesn't immediately pull back, that she lets her eyes close for the brief second that he's there, is sign enough that she doesn't view this as a professional or pragmatic gesture right now. ]

You're quite the pleasing sight yourself. [ It's a soft murmur as she looks around, taking in the odd vehicle he leans against, as well as the gray dreariness of the area that's nonetheless softened by snow-laden pines and the large flakes that drift from above. How the snow must glitter if the sun would be allowed to shine... ]

How close are we, to your home?

[ How much time does she have to think too hard about what it means, for him to want her to meet his family? ]

[toyska]

[The compliment earns her a smile, and he squeezes her hand gently before he turns back to the carriage, opening the door. There's cargo of some kind hooked up to the back, but whatever it is will have to remain a mystery for now.]

About ten minutes--maybe fifteen if we run into trouble, but I don't think we will this close to the village.

[But even if they do, it'll be minor. None of the beasts or monsters around here frighten him anymore.]

Still, we'd best get out of the cold. We might freeze if we linger outside too long.

[He's joking. Probably.

He steps back, holding out his hand just in case she needs the assistance in climbing in.]

Ah--I suppose should warn you that it's not particularly glamorous.

[His home, he means; he doesn't really think she'll mind, or he wouldn't have invited her in the first place, but still.]

[femmefinale]

[ She does not need assistance and even if she did, she wouldn't ask for it. Likely while he's offering his hand without drawing attention to it and Primrose smiles faintly, maintaining eye contact as she steps past him and pulls herself up and into the carriage. As she does-- ]

I spent a certain part of my life in dark and dingy alleys. I don't particularly seek out glamorous, regardless of how I may come off.

[ Poised, fiery, seductive, glittering with gold to draw the light when she danced... born nobility, but she prefers simpler things now. ]

I'm more interested in your family than your home, of course.

[toyska]

[Whether he expected that reaction or not is difficult to say--he simply smiles and takes it in stride, climbing inside after her.

The interior of the carriage isn't so unusual--warm red gems light the interior with a gentle glow, chasing away the chill that had crept in while the door had been open. But the seats are simple and comfortable, and he keeps the curtains drawn back from the window, even though it's not much of a view.]

I'm glad to hear it, though you bring glamour along with you wherever you go anyway.

[Light, teasing, that playful tone he tends to use when he's speaking a truth that he knows sounds like false flattery. He leans forward as he speaks, pressing a small button--it only takes a moment before the carriage begins to move, rolling smoothly along the path.

It may only be a trick of the agnidus agate, but his eyes seem brighter as he settles back into his seat, reaching into his coat for something.]

They'll be interested in you too, so you'll have to excuse them if they're a little overwhelming. [He wears a warm smile, though, unashamed of how apparent his love is. From his coat, he pulls a photograph, which he hands over to her. It's obviously not new, well-creased down the middle. A family portrait of some kind, it seems, though Childe himself is absent from the picture.]

The eldest three are Damon, Janus, and Cleo. They won't be staying more than a day or two, especially Cleo--she doesn't like mother's fussing. Then that's Anthon and Tonia in the front, and that's Teucer between them, of course.

[The one she'd seen in his memory, so long ago. The way it'll be 84 years before I officially know how many siblings this man has I hate genshin]

[femmefinale]

Silver-tongued as ever. [ It's said with a faint little snort. She still is never sure whether to believe those little quips of his or not, more familiar with how lightly he words his sincere beliefs. Still, it's difficult to handle or dwell on, and most of the time she chooses not to. Much like now, even as she leans back in her seat and studies how his eyes seem to glow. Light doesn't seem to reach the dull depths very often and she hums in intrigue, turning her attention to the photo.

Six siblings. She'd been an only child, but she imagines it must make the house a lively place, to have all seven of them in one spot.

She lingers over Teucer, eyes softening a trace beyond her knowing to see such exuberant innocence, and then hands the photograph back to him. Such things don't exist in Orsterra, but she sees the value of them. ]

It seems I've got quite an important audience this time around; I'll do my best to entertain. [ She's confident in that much, at least. ] How long would you like us to stay, then?

[toyska]

[Her words earn her a wink--but his smile is genuine as he follows her gaze to the photo, and to Teucer.]

That's up to you, really. Harbinger business is... [A pause, before his smile turns a little rueful.] ...well, let's just say it'll be a little while before I'm needed again. I'd planned to stay for at least a week or two, to make up for not being able to send Teucer off when he snuck over to Liyue. I thought I'd take the kids along when I head back to the capital, just for a couple of days.

[But he won't force her to stay that long if she doesn't want to, of course. He never tires of his siblings, but he knows rambunctious children aren't for everyone.

He's quiet for a moment, before. he lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, just a touch awkwardly.]

Ah--everyone knows that Teucer still thinks I'm a toy seller, so...

[So please humor me goes unsaid, since he's pretty sure she intended to do so anyway. But still.]

[femmefinale]

Ah, right. [ toy seller. Primrose's lips twitch in thinly-veiled amusement and she leans forward, ponytail draping down her front with the sway of her movement. ]

I will make no promises as to the duration of my stay. I'm not entirely certain your parents expected another body. [ and one who would stay so long? It seems presumptuous of her, and she's also not sure how well she'll handle children. Tressa was young, true, but also 18. ]

But I will keep your actual identity to myself. And I will not be mentioning space stations or how intimately I've come to know you, under certain circumstances.