[For a minute, he seems to turn that over in his head, as if he's trying to figure out whether it's a compliment or not. Whether even Primrose herself knows if it's a compliment or not, honestly. He covers the pause with a drink, turning his gaze towards the far window, even though the curtains are drawn.]
Well, I was born by the sea, you know. I suppose it's no surprise that it left a mark.
[ Truthfully, she really doesn't know whether it's a compliment or not. More of an observation. A truth, from her, which she'll grant him because there's no further reason to lie.
She doesn't try to get him to look at her. ]
Is that your preferred climate? Somewhere by the ocean?
I don't have much of a preference, really. [He goes where he's sent, mostly. He hasn't really traveled anywhere just for fun in a very long time. But if he had to choose...] But I suppose I am quite fond of the water. Hydro isn't quite the same.
What you use to form your weapons? I suppose that could be considered vastly different. The way you use the elements is different from what I'm accustomed to, as well.
Right. [He lifts his hand, water coalescing to form an arrow. He twirls it around his fingers once before letting it dissipate.] It's a bit different from mother nature, though. I can't use it without my Vision, and my ability to tap into natural sources of energy is limited.
[So he can't, like, go out there and make it rain naturally, or harness the entire ocean or anything.
...Well, okay, maybe he could if he really tried--but the energy cost likely wouldn't be worth it.]
You'd be an entirely different type of fighter if you could. [ And honestly, she doesn't think it would suit him. ]
We can use spells without a catalyst, so long as we take the time to learn them. Dancers primarily deal with darkness, though the majority have never fought.
[She may not think so, but he smiles, a hint of mystery behind it.]
Mm, maybe. I'm always looking for new things to learn. [She might not think it would suit him, but he wouldn't be himself if he wasn't constantly pushing his limits.
It's not a desired profession, after all. To be beguiled by a dancer is to fall into the embrace of shadows... just as to be touched by a cleric is to walk into the light.
[ It's fitting, somehow. ]
I was unable to demonstrate it before, but when we fight, you'll see it for yourself.
Hm. [His lips quirk up, and it's clear he has some thoughts about that--but for the moment he holds his tongue.
Instead--]
I look forward to seeing it. Do you know if it's something you can use anywhere, or is it limited to your world? [He hasn't visited anyone outside of Teyvat, so he has no idea how it all works.]
I couldn't say. The only other world I've been to was the one we briefly shared, and I did gain an ability back there... so it's possible I can still use them here.
[ She'd better be able to, is what the look on her face says. ]
[That makes him grin as he finishes off the rest of his wine.]
So I am. [The blessings of the gods, huh. Yeah, he knows a thing or two about that.] You know, that friend of mine I mentioned, the traveler--they're capable of harnessing the power of our gods even without a Vision. Or anything else, for that matter, as far as I know. Otherworldly power may be just what I need to best them.
[Or maybe they'd defeat him anyway, as they have in the past. To say nothing of a battle against Zhongli, or his old master--the challenges he longs for.
The taste of victory earned through blood is always sweet, to him. But the thought of failure, of defeat at the hands of someone who could kill him, but won't, is equally intoxicating.
As he sets his cup back down, he looks at her for a moment, contemplative. With their full power at their disposal, how close would she come to defeating him? When they'd sparred at the station, her hand had always been steady and fearless, her aim true. But they'd both been holding back, there, for their own separate reasons. Would she still hold back now? Or, with her goals complete, would she let his blood stain her blade?
He finds he doesn't know. That uncertainty, too, is heady in its own way.
Some of that ambition, that hunger, may or may not bleed through into his eyes, just a little. But he doesn't voice his thoughts, instead resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand.]
Light and darkness... that's a bit different from us. [Kind of. He supposes the Abyss could be classified as dark magic, but even there they have close ties to the elemental energies of Teyvat.] What other skills does your world have to offer?
[Ambition and powerlust aside, he's curious, too. The simple pleasure of learning about another world is something he hadn't realized he'd miss so much, upon returning home.]
[ When men eye her with any kind of predatory intent, she's well aware that the hunger is what they think she can give them-- a memorable night, a sinuous dance, pleasure beyond their wildest dreams.
Which isn't wrong. She'd cultivated all of those skills over the years into an actual art form. But the gleam she sees in Childe's eyes isn't that kind of light-- or at the very least, it doesn't appear to be at the forefront of his priorities. He gazes at her as though he wants her to press her dagger to his throat. Rather, like he's considering daring her to. It's the glint of intrigue at a possible challenge.
Or so it seems. She chooses not to speak of it, merely maintains a steady stare of her own, chin slightly lifted. Will he ask? Will he not? She won't guide him. ]
Beyond the elements, there is a god who teaches one to harness the power of the stars, and one who specializes in complete weapons mastery-- to name just a few. There was also talk of power able to twist death, make it meaningless.
[Childe never shies away from anything, and he doesn't start now; he meets her gaze, holds it, mouth quirking up into a smile.
It isn't as though he's unfamiliar with her talents--in several aspects, though he'd never been naive enough to assume he'd known all of her. But what he does know is that no one can fully cloak themselves in obscurity once they've engaged with another person. It would be foolish to think she hadn't gleaned plenty of information about him, beyond what he'd told her outright. His habits, his preferences--the station was a unique environment, but it didn't create anything that wasn't already there.
As such, her deductions are, of course, correct. He'd enjoyed all of their time together, but he'd take her blade over her kiss any day, and he doesn't try to hide that from her now.
But at the end of the day, Childe is only a young man, and even he is utterly predictable in some ways. One of those being the way he visibly perks up, distracted from whatever was just passing between them. His eyes don't brighten, exactly, but the look in them is definitely different from a moment ago.]
Weapons mastery? [The other two are fascinating too, especially the former, but he's a warrior at heart.]
[ Primrose says it easily, though with a certain solemnity to the tone that suggests she's being respectful from the role of one who has witnessed a god's might for herself, and not as just as one who believes in them. It really put fighting human opponents in strong contrast; even now, she finds herself surprised that they'd made it through at all even once, let alone four times. ]
She's quick to cut down those she deems unworthy, so I think if you were to seek her out, you wouldn't find yourself bored. Of course, you'd be traveling in an unfamiliar land.
[ Meaning, apparently, he's welcome to visit. Wryly, she adds-- ]
And if you truly are so eager for a fight from Orsterra before then, I will offer you one tomorrow.
[That definitely seems like something he'd be interested in, and he nods thoughtfully, letting his imagination run briefly wild. It's something he'll definitely follow up on--but then he's distracted by her much more tangible offer, and he laughs, clearly delighted.]
You know the way to my heart, comrade! I'll hold you to that. [Leaning forward, he pushes himself to his feet, holding out a hand to her.] Well then, let me show you your pick of the guest rooms--I'm afraid none of the sleepwear is tailored, but you should be able to find something that fits alright.
[It doesn't occur to him to offer to share his room... dumb man]
[ Childe, now that he no longer has to bang to win, possesses no actual attraction to Primrose beyond fighting prowess. This tracks. ]
Well, if nothing fits decently, I suppose I'll just have to sleep with no clothes at all. To better acclimate myself to the temperatures here, perhaps.
[ But she places her hand in his, using it mainly for balance as she pushes herself up to join him. ]
It's a good thing she hadn't teamed up with Medb at the station, he thinks. The two of them would've decimated everyone else instantaneously.
Fortunately, he's readjusted to being in her presence, and her words don't trip him up as badly as they had earlier. He laughs, taking the liberty of threading his fingers through hers as he starts to lead the way out.]
That's a custom of ours, you know. It's the fastest way to become a Snezhnayan, second only to marriage. [no it isn't]
[ Some alliances were better off not fully formed-- because he's right, Primrose and Medb would have been absolutely dangerous.
She does seamlessly adjust to Childe's preference of hand-hold, pressing their palms together briefly as she once again surveys anything and everything about where he's leading her now. ]
Is it now? [ She's pretty sure it isn't. ]
I imagine I won't find many marriageable prospects, so perhaps I will experiment with this custom of yours.
[Down a long hallway they go, then up some stairs--much of the decor is similar to the room she'd arrived in, plush carpets and expensive furniture. Fatui staff pass by them here and there, greeting them with varying levels of formality and respect, but there don't seem to be too many people here--at least, not in their wing of the house.
Only one thing sets the place apart from a standard noble household, really. The vast array of weapons mounted on the walls in place of portraits.
Oh, there are paintings here and there--mostly depictions of battles and heroes, with a few landscapes mixed in. But by and large, weapons hang on the walls like decorations, everything from bows to spears to elemental guns.]
[ And for that, he gets a very tiny hint of a smile. It's more a whispered smirk than anything. ]
I don't think you're quite ready for that, Tartaglia.
[ She would be surprised at the lack of portraits, though honestly, given that it's Childe, she fully expected the walls to be adorned with weapons or other indications of battles. She wonders if some of the paintings depict historical fights. ]
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... [ She closes her eyes, sounding a little amused. ]
Has anyone seen fit to inform you that you're rather similar to the ocean?
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But her words seem to catch him off-guard, and he blinks at her, tilting his head slightly.]
What brought that on?
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[ Rather poetic. She huffs a little at herself for that thought alone. ]
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Well, I was born by the sea, you know. I suppose it's no surprise that it left a mark.
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She doesn't try to get him to look at her. ]
Is that your preferred climate? Somewhere by the ocean?
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[ Vision users are weird. ]
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[So he can't, like, go out there and make it rain naturally, or harness the entire ocean or anything.
...Well, okay, maybe he could if he really tried--but the energy cost likely wouldn't be worth it.]
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We can use spells without a catalyst, so long as we take the time to learn them. Dancers primarily deal with darkness, though the majority have never fought.
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Mm, maybe. I'm always looking for new things to learn. [She might not think it would suit him, but he wouldn't be himself if he wasn't constantly pushing his limits.
He looks interested at her words, though.]
With darkness?
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[ It's fitting, somehow. ]
I was unable to demonstrate it before, but when we fight, you'll see it for yourself.
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Instead--]
I look forward to seeing it. Do you know if it's something you can use anywhere, or is it limited to your world? [He hasn't visited anyone outside of Teyvat, so he has no idea how it all works.]
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[ She'd better be able to, is what the look on her face says. ]
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If not, I wouldn't mind accompanying you to your world, either.
[He can handle being nerfed; though he does look thoughtful, then.]
If it works here, do you think I'd be able to learn your type of magic, too?
[Ever ambitious...]
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[ So yes. He could absolutely learn it. ]
Of course, your measure of power with the skills themselves depends entirely on your affinity.
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So I am. [The blessings of the gods, huh. Yeah, he knows a thing or two about that.] You know, that friend of mine I mentioned, the traveler--they're capable of harnessing the power of our gods even without a Vision. Or anything else, for that matter, as far as I know. Otherworldly power may be just what I need to best them.
[Or maybe they'd defeat him anyway, as they have in the past. To say nothing of a battle against Zhongli, or his old master--the challenges he longs for.
The taste of victory earned through blood is always sweet, to him. But the thought of failure, of defeat at the hands of someone who could kill him, but won't, is equally intoxicating.
As he sets his cup back down, he looks at her for a moment, contemplative. With their full power at their disposal, how close would she come to defeating him? When they'd sparred at the station, her hand had always been steady and fearless, her aim true. But they'd both been holding back, there, for their own separate reasons. Would she still hold back now? Or, with her goals complete, would she let his blood stain her blade?
He finds he doesn't know. That uncertainty, too, is heady in its own way.
Some of that ambition, that hunger, may or may not bleed through into his eyes, just a little. But he doesn't voice his thoughts, instead resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin in his hand.]
Light and darkness... that's a bit different from us. [Kind of. He supposes the Abyss could be classified as dark magic, but even there they have close ties to the elemental energies of Teyvat.] What other skills does your world have to offer?
[Ambition and powerlust aside, he's curious, too. The simple pleasure of learning about another world is something he hadn't realized he'd miss so much, upon returning home.]
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Which isn't wrong. She'd cultivated all of those skills over the years into an actual art form. But the gleam she sees in Childe's eyes isn't that kind of light-- or at the very least, it doesn't appear to be at the forefront of his priorities. He gazes at her as though he wants her to press her dagger to his throat. Rather, like he's considering daring her to. It's the glint of intrigue at a possible challenge.
Or so it seems. She chooses not to speak of it, merely maintains a steady stare of her own, chin slightly lifted. Will he ask? Will he not? She won't guide him. ]
Beyond the elements, there is a god who teaches one to harness the power of the stars, and one who specializes in complete weapons mastery-- to name just a few. There was also talk of power able to twist death, make it meaningless.
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It isn't as though he's unfamiliar with her talents--in several aspects, though he'd never been naive enough to assume he'd known all of her. But what he does know is that no one can fully cloak themselves in obscurity once they've engaged with another person. It would be foolish to think she hadn't gleaned plenty of information about him, beyond what he'd told her outright. His habits, his preferences--the station was a unique environment, but it didn't create anything that wasn't already there.
As such, her deductions are, of course, correct. He'd enjoyed all of their time together, but he'd take her blade over her kiss any day, and he doesn't try to hide that from her now.
But at the end of the day, Childe is only a young man, and even he is utterly predictable in some ways. One of those being the way he visibly perks up, distracted from whatever was just passing between them. His eyes don't brighten, exactly, but the look in them is definitely different from a moment ago.]
Weapons mastery? [The other two are fascinating too, especially the former, but he's a warrior at heart.]
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[ Primrose says it easily, though with a certain solemnity to the tone that suggests she's being respectful from the role of one who has witnessed a god's might for herself, and not as just as one who believes in them. It really put fighting human opponents in strong contrast; even now, she finds herself surprised that they'd made it through at all even once, let alone four times. ]
She's quick to cut down those she deems unworthy, so I think if you were to seek her out, you wouldn't find yourself bored. Of course, you'd be traveling in an unfamiliar land.
[ Meaning, apparently, he's welcome to visit. Wryly, she adds-- ]
And if you truly are so eager for a fight from Orsterra before then, I will offer you one tomorrow.
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You know the way to my heart, comrade! I'll hold you to that. [Leaning forward, he pushes himself to his feet, holding out a hand to her.] Well then, let me show you your pick of the guest rooms--I'm afraid none of the sleepwear is tailored, but you should be able to find something that fits alright.
[It doesn't occur to him to offer to share his room... dumb man]
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Well, if nothing fits decently, I suppose I'll just have to sleep with no clothes at all. To better acclimate myself to the temperatures here, perhaps.
[ But she places her hand in his, using it mainly for balance as she pushes herself up to join him. ]
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It's a good thing she hadn't teamed up with Medb at the station, he thinks. The two of them would've decimated everyone else instantaneously.
Fortunately, he's readjusted to being in her presence, and her words don't trip him up as badly as they had earlier. He laughs, taking the liberty of threading his fingers through hers as he starts to lead the way out.]
That's a custom of ours, you know. It's the fastest way to become a Snezhnayan, second only to marriage. [no it isn't]
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She does seamlessly adjust to Childe's preference of hand-hold, pressing their palms together briefly as she once again surveys anything and everything about where he's leading her now. ]
Is it now? [ She's pretty sure it isn't. ]
I imagine I won't find many marriageable prospects, so perhaps I will experiment with this custom of yours.
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Only one thing sets the place apart from a standard noble household, really. The vast array of weapons mounted on the walls in place of portraits.
Oh, there are paintings here and there--mostly depictions of battles and heroes, with a few landscapes mixed in. But by and large, weapons hang on the walls like decorations, everything from bows to spears to elemental guns.]
We could always say the wedding's back on.
[A little joke, just for the two of them.]
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I don't think you're quite ready for that, Tartaglia.
[ She would be surprised at the lack of portraits, though honestly, given that it's Childe, she fully expected the walls to be adorned with weapons or other indications of battles. She wonders if some of the paintings depict historical fights. ]
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crawls back here after mg
TAKES A WEEK
AT LEAST IT WASN'T TWO MONTHS
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