天动万象 ◈ 山海化形

That seems easy enough. Act menacing and creepy like the scientists here. Zhongli sure is a good guy, he's going to come back and not merely drink away this experience.

"Perhaps it will convince them," Zhongli pointed out, "unless, that is, those imprisoned here are not transferred while conscious."

They didn't have any kind of stretcher, after all, and Zhongli wasn't particularly interested in playing unconscious either way. Besides, they needed only one more person to borrow a lab coat from... and though Zhongli was loathe to cause harm to mortals, perhaps these were extenuating circumstances.

Of course, securing an escape was the most important.

"We must take careful note of the path we take," he said, approaching the door at the end of the corridor. He couldn't hear anything beyond it, but...

He also knew very well that he could not trust these senses alone. Without the earth's resonance to guide him, he felt almost as though he were floating adrift upon the water... It was monumentally unpleasant.

verdant eyes , green as plains , settled on zhongli and simply . . . observed . he had not spoken much of all that he had gone through . not unless it was to highlight the benefit to all who had escaped ocellus isle , which was not what byleth had asked after . she knew well the number of escapees . she aided orchestrating their escapes .

put mildly : ZHONGLI WAS STUBBORN . he planted himself with the pride of a mountain and the weight of a boulder in a stream . byleth could not help but find his reliability a boon as much as a sordid frustration . both a boulder and a mountain would weather and erode given time .

byleth stood and began to prepare tea .

"are you staying late tonight , zhongli?"

The rock upon which the world rests does not easily come to lean upon others-- and for one who has seen the rise and fall of ages and eras, his trouble are not those which he should cast upon another's shoulders. In truth, it was no conscious decision that led Zhongli to remain brief and shallow regarding his own feelings, the turmoil brought on by helplessness, the burden of endless sacrifice that hearkened back into antiquity.

It was... simply the way that things were. If Zhongli spoke of his troubles, it would be simple, mundane matters, such as lacking in finances, or his tea growing cold. Those things more serious...

Those, he kept buried within-- buried, indeed, even from himself.

And so, as always, he returned to the life he had built in this place, going about his day as though everything were ordinary, because it was, and because it was over. Now, the most worrisome matters were the cases tucked into their folders atop his desk.

He was keenly aware of Byleth's gaze. She had been watching him more closely than usual since Ocellus, despite... well, Zhongli didn't think there was any problem with his performance. He had adapted, and it was a simple enough thing, at least on the surface, to leave the past behind.

She worried for him. That much he knew... though the why of it all remained somewhat elusive.

With a pleasant little nod to the staff, he followed the other man into the teahouse. It was a very pretty place, or Nate yet not overwhelmingly lavish. Humble. He had been in plenty of teahouses before, but never anything this fancy. There were plenty of holdovers of human culture from before the crash on Nomans Land.

Even if there were more saloons than tea houses.

Then, proving how often the other man came here, they were set up with a tea pot, and a menu without even ordering. Vash glanced at the menu, then at Zhongli. Zhongli was a very generous man, Vash knew that. Honestly, he didn’t feel hungry at all. He hadn’t felt hungry lately even if he knew that he had to eat.

“Oh, I’m all right, but thanks.”

He slid the menu away towards the edge of the table. he was distracted by the weiqi board on the table. “I’ve… played chess…”

"Mm, very well. In that case, and because it is your first visit here, I suppose I will choose what to order," Zhongli said, beginning to fill out the dim sum menu card, notably avoiding most of the seafood options. "Are there any ingredients that you cannot tolerate?"

Vash seemed a bit more gaunt than usual, he'd thought. Perhaps with the pressure of food already ordered, he might be able to get at least a bite or two into the taller man's stomach. Vash's homeworld, if he recalled correctly, was one of scarcity... and those who came from scarcity were often loathe to waste food.

He waved over a staff member and handed off the filled out menu card, then picked up the weiqi stones, offering black to his companion. "It is similar, in that both are games of strategy. Here, we take turns placing stones upon the board, each attempting to surround the most territory, until one or both of us choose to resign."

He went on to explain the rules further, though in brief-- there was always the opportunity to clarify later on. A game like this, if nothing else, could provide a welcome distraction and a chance to focus the mind.

The guy looked like the sort who frequented this kind of place. Logan, on the other hand, knew that for his own part, he didn't really look like the sort to step into a tea house at all.

After a moment, he gestured with a nod towards the seat opposite his own. "<Yes, go on.>"

It rolled off his tongue as naturally as if it were his own first language. It had been a while since he'd spoken Chinese, but he knew enough. Could probably be considered nearly fluent, but wouldn't say that himself. It was only thanks to the way he'd gotten around over the years that he'd picked up any languages other than English and Canadian French at all.

He would have picked up the pot and extra cup, but Logan hesitated first once the man had gotten himself situated.

There was a brief flicker of pleased familiarity in golden eyes when the other man spoke. In this realm, though disparate their original tongues may be, all that was "common" language across myriad universes seemed to have become one, save the slight accent that distinguished those of different realms-- but other tongues as well, Zhongli had noticed, were also made parallel. It had been some time since he encountered someone who spoke Liyue's local tongue, even if in an accent that could not be placed within his nation's borders.

"More important than the specific varietal is the technique with which it is prepared," he replied, "and I happen to know that this teahouse's staff are well-versed in the preparation of each leaf they sell. Sencha is fine."

Taking his seat then, Zhongli considered the other before him as he lifted his cup of tea. Setting it down once more, he spoke, "I do not believe we have met. You may call me Zhongli-- I am one of those called 'Echoes' by the people of these isles. Perhaps you, too, are a guest from afar?" A brief pause, gazing out toward the sea, across a harbor so unlike his home, yet one which had now grown familiar. "How do you find this world?"

A little more chipper, pushing aside what he'd just done to some idiot working his job, he turns back to strip the man of his coat.

"They ought to have some vehicles of some kind. Even a damn boat."

With a nod of his head, Zhongli glanced up and down the corridor. He supposed he ought to find a disguise of his own sooner rather than later... but this would be sufficient for now. Fortunately, though his access to his power was restricted, that would not preclude a few precise strikes to the acupoints...

the lunar coast was freedom itself compared to the IRON WALLS and FLOORS , pipes and wires of THE STATESMAN . at times , however , it was clear even to thor that the aevum realm merely sold a pale shade of the freedom it boasted . in truth , it was only A DIFFERENT KIND OF CAGE . it was this truth that his brother had long tried to tell him . and so it was this truth that thor understood too late . as usual . — yet even still , thor could not find it within his heart to hate the realm . not with all it had gifted him . his father would call thor's sentiment his greatest folly , and in far less gentle terms .

his father would be right .

. . . but folly had led him to embrace the company of friends like zhongli , who stood beside him now , with the weight of wooden blocks , carving tools , and candles in both of their arms . as the two men settled somewhere away from the crowd to prepare their offerings to the sea , THOR WAS GRATEFUL FOR FRIENDS LIKE HIM . for if love was folly , at least zhongli was silent about it .

❝ every year that the people of this realm host their candlelight passing , i find myself here , ❞ he admitted . the words skirted close to the grief in his breast . the words picked and scratched at a wound only JUST beginning to scab . it would not take much for the wound to bleed and bleed . so , thor shied from it , and added : ❝ it is a fine custom . though i cannot say that my home shared in it precisely . ❞

There was a time to strive against the will of the heavens, and a time to wait, to listen. The skies of this world held dangers unknown-- that much had been proven time and time again. In the two years he had spent within this realm, Zhongli had been rendered powerless more than once. Indeed, more than had happened before in all of his long existence.

The shifting and changing of this world was unfamiliar and alien, and still, even after all this time, he knew it was still time to wait.

To tarry here a bit longer, until the next sun arose.

And yet, despite the uncertainty, some constants still remained-- the two of them had dwelt together now without interruption, even as the residents up and down the street were changed out and re-arranged seemingly each time the painted colors lit the sky. And though each was stubborn in his own way, they lived still harmoniously despite that.

It had been Thor's idea, to attend the candlelight passing. Last year Zhongli had stood at the water's edge, watching the small boats carrying their offerings out across its rippling surface-- this year, his roommate had invited him to partake, and so he had accepted. He listened as they set up their workspace, and as he took up a carving knife in hand.

"Indeed," he spoke then. "Every people's customs are rooted in their history-- within these traditions, even those stories that have been long forgotten may yet live on. Thus, such things are some of the most precious among humanity."

Wood-crafting was not so intuitive as stone and metalworking, but in his thousands upon thousands of years, there was nary a craft that Zhongli had not learned. There was something meditative about this, too, he thought, as curls of wood began to fall away into neat piles, the shape of a hull gradually taking form.

"Yep. Secured. Let's get out of this shithole."

He didn't seem hurt. Good.

Zhongli nodded his head in thanks as the barrier deactivated, allowing him to step out into the quiet corridor. They had managed to free themselves-- now the question remained, what next?

First, he thought, they ought to find a way to leave the facility. Even if they freed the other captives now, without knowing where to go, they could just be put in greater danger... and with the earth silent and cold beneath Zhongli's feet, there was no easy answer.

Somehow it was a comforting idea. To think that, maybe, that part of him wasn't anything to do with the Thomas Logan inside of him. He didn't know if he could deal with being that close to the man. Seeing his face in the mirror every day was bad enough.

He took a deep breath.

The salt of the sea filled his nostrils.

The tea house by the sea was a more tangible comfort. They opened early in the morning, stayed open late in the night. He was able to breathe. To sit and soak in the early morning: the salt on the wind, the birds, the still-rising sun. It was relaxing. Peaceful. Definitely more peaceful than most mornings. It reminded vaguely of his time in Japan. Both with Itsu just after the war, then with Mariko later on. Sunlight glinted off of the water. Was this what it could have been like if he and Mariko had made it to the altar? Maybe…

Logan slowly poured himself another cup. He savored the gentle, earthy flavor as he looked out the window. The tea wasn't half bad either.

In the years he had spent on the isles, Zhongli had gained a bit of a reputation. Not only a reputation for spending freely while forgetting his wallet-- there was also the fact that he had become known as a sort of "unofficial tour guide" for newly-arrived Echoes.

It wasn't a position he had intended on taking up. Rather, it was simply the fact that he remembered every face he ever saw, and thus it was rather easy to keep up to date on who was new, and who was not. Couple that with his curiosity, and his fascination with making connections with those from faraway lands-- faraway worlds even-- and it was only natural that he would end up approaching those newcomers he happened to cross paths with.

Well, he already had some experience as a tour guide, he supposed... though it wasn't quite the same, since the isles lacked the shared history of his homeland. Still, Zhongli would do his best.

It was especially convenient when he came across newcomers naturally-- such as today, in the little seaside teahouse where he spent so many mornings and afternoons that, had it not been for the other busyness of his "leisurely foreign retirement," he might have nearly been considered part of the furnishings.

「𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤!」- Vash was still sniffling and he wiped his nose hard on his sleeve again rather than using the offered handkerchief. The Plant soon handed the handkerchief back, having only used it for his eyes, unwilling to sully it with anything else. He didn't deserve the handkerchief.

Zhongli's intuition was right though - bad luck followed Vash like a plague. The Humanoid Typhoon was a far more fair moniker than anything else to describe the general chaos that followed in his wake. He had accepted that long ago.

Big wet eyes still looked back at the other man though when he offered Vash to walk with him. He looked the way that Zhongli gestured. ...A tea house near the seaside...

"Sure," he eventually agreed. "I don' have anythin' else to do."

Over the span of thousands of years, Zhongli had learned much of humanity. Of their struggles, of the weight of their emotions. Vash may not be "human" physically, but he still felt, hoped, feared, and cried tears... that was "human" enough.

Of course, it couldn't be said that Zhongli had no ulterior motives either-- though he indeed wished to soothe Vash's distress and distract him from his troubles, he would be remiss to forget the disaster at Arcus Cove. Vash had been enduring a great deal of turmoil lately, and for those with great power, turmoil could breed even greater danger-- if he could aid in settling this unsteady ground...

Now, perhaps, it was worse than before, because following that disaster had been the disappearance of several of those involved. Each of them had returned to the tower that day, but in the following weeks, one by one they vanished, until only two remained who had been there to tell of the day's events.

The disappearances had been perfectly ordinary when it came to Echoes.

But knowing Vash's temperament... he undoubtedly blamed himself.

Zhongli led him on a leisurely walk to the seaside, the vibrations within the earth warning him ahead of time of any disruptions, anything that might cause trouble so that he could choose their path in advance and maintain the present equilibrium. The teahouse he favored in the area for its similarity to those of his hometown was situated overlooking the harbor, where they could watch the ships going to and fro.

He brought Vash to his usual seat, a somewhat private corner of the establishment. It was true that he came here often, because without even having to order a pot of tea and a pair of cups shortly appeared on the table, along with the promised seasonal menu.

Badou isn't looking forward to this. The thought of any of his information being kept here, beyond measurements and what, his eye color, that leaves a dead weight in his belly.

Zhongli had taught Badou a few things about fighting in the two years since they'd met, but a few impromptu training sessions here and there were hardly a complete education... still, he wasn't too afraid. Badou might appear a bit cowardly at times, but when it came down to it, he could be quite capable.

Once silence fell, though, and a moment had passed, he rose to his feet and approached the front of the cell, stopping just short of the barrier.

「𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤 𝔟𝔞𝔫𝔤!」- Man, he really was going to cry. It had nearly always been the case that he was someone who struggled with others saying kind things about him. Expressing any sort of kindness - it overwhelmed him.

Especially considering recent developments.

Vash took the offered handkerchief after roughly wiping his nose on his sleeve. - Truthfully the fact that Zhongli had saved him from yet another trip into the police station was a good portion of why he'd started sniffling and tearing up. He pressed the heel of his free hand against his eyes, just holding the offered handkerchief with his other.

There were still a few tears... Zhongli's head tilted thoughtfully, a slight inclination. Of course, it was only natural that he knew something of the recent developments. Between his positions at the archives and in law enforcement, he had a rather wide breadth of intelligence to consult. Not to mention, he'd made a few friends at the news station as well. It was always best to know what was going on...

So, of course, he had heard about what happened at Arcus Cove.

Vash seemed to attract far more trouble than someone of his character ought to, but fate was rarely a fair ruler.

Fortunately, though, Zhongli had many years of experience in being the bringer of good fortune. That is to say... he had a fairly good reputation, so for as long as he was accompanying Vash, trouble was far less likely to find the man.

"Fuck....you know, I didn't even think about them keeping our information. I'll have to figure out how to get rid of that shit."

It's creepy. Everything they did to them, categorized and noted neatly.

A nod of Zhongli's head. "That would be wise. Regrettably... I am not certain how much they know, or where they are keeping that information," he said. "Perhaps we can hope that it is not too much, considering that they've brought us here to 'study.' As small a comfort as that may be..."

His voice trailed off at the sound of distant, approaching footsteps. There, just as expected. One of the white-coated researchers was coming by to take some notes, on whatever it was they were observing.

The slightly slurring words were met with steady assurance, "It's gonna be all right, sir. My name's Clark and I know an area not far from here where you can get your bearings. Just hang on."

In truth, all of this made Zhongli feel a little ashamed, and a bit more embarrassed.

If nothing else, he supposed he was glad that the man, Clark, was able to carry him after all-- it was a bit of an uncertainty when one weighed a good deal more than an ordinary human of his height.

Still, Zhongli would have preferred to stand on his own feet. Not only was it a little embarrassing, but he feared that he may give off a rather unfortunate impression... but as it was, his consciousness still drifted in and out of focus. Between the blood loss and the drugs...

He sighed bitterly. There was little to be done about it now.

"Do not worry about me," he said. "I simply need... a few moments."

It wasn't as though he was unfamiliar with this sort of thing entirely. Although... weakened like this, it certainly was a different matter than the minting process. He couldn't rely on a fast recovery. Golden eyes blinked closed, a few more steadying breaths, and at last his head began to clear, though the heavy weakness in his body remained.

"You may call me Zhongli. I was apprehended while attempting to aid a companion of mine in escaping this place," he explained, once they were away from the cell block once more. Fingers pressed gingerly against the inside of his arm, sore and bruised from where they'd drawn blood. "Have you had any luck finding a way out?"