inactive

“ oh, ‘ stop it! ’ he says... pitiful thing. ” dottore pats a hand against thoma’s bloody, tear-stained cheek, ensuring it’s just soft enough to feel mockingly comfortable yet rough enough to sting even after he pulls his hand back. the doctor retreats to the mess of bloodied tools behind him, humming a cheerful tune while he scans them as if he was simply spending quiet time with a friend and not torturing an innocent. but, details, details.... he's having more fun here than he would a ' friend ' anyway. he has direct orders to keep the man alive for now, but that won't be a problem. death is not permanent. even if this one somehow breathes his last under dottore's watch, he can be rebuilt, remade into something better! who really cares if he becomes a statistic like several who came before him?

( aside from the kamisatos, that is, but dottore's decided that future targets don't count. )

" you sweet boy... it was never a suggestion. you will cave. " he swipes a shiny scalpel from the table and turning to wave it in front of thoma. now that the other's reactions to physical pain is far more pleasant to watch, dottore has plenty of new plans. the doctor stares down at thoma from his side, eyes dangerously cold and unfeeling, yet equally thoughtful. to test how well his experiment is going, perhaps it would be best to start with something insignificant first. just to see if adjustments must be made.

immediately, his focus shifts to thoma’s bound hands. permanent damage inflicted upon them won't be enough to make him talk, but it certainly will help him progress. one gloved hand wraps itself firmly around the other's wrist as his other presses the scalpel to the skin connecting his nail to his finger.

" consider this a test run. " as if he hasn't been testing for days. the humming continues after he speaks, even as he forces the razor edge under the nail at an angle to completely tear it from the finger. blood spills from the wound and dribbles over his fingers, and dottore politely waits for the screaming to stop. as he waits, his grip tightens around thoma's wrist as he silently praises himself on just how smoothly that went. he tips the scalpel to the side and drops the nail onto the metal tray beside him. good, he thinks to himself, very good... it’s nice to see he still hasn’t lost his touch.

" now, if you’re done screaming, onto the other four! " as if there wasn't a mess of blood and severed nerves to worry about, dottore moves on to the next one, and pauses with the edge against the tip of his finger; a warning for the inevitable. " unless you've had a change of heart and want to tell me where your kamisatos are hiding? this will only get worse if you refuse! " and of course, he knows he won't get a proper response, that's exactly why he asks. this is part of the fun, after all.

the traveler giggles in response, confirming diluc’s observation with a smile bright enough to light up the world around her. she’s in a pretty good mood most of the time, but tonight is different. never has she attended an event quite like ludi harpastum before; the combination of people laughing and music playing with the scent of festival food wafting through the air is enough to brighten her mood and make her whole month ten times better than it already was.

“ can you blame me? look at all this! isn’t it beautiful? ” native as he is to mondstadt, he’s probably less thrilled by something he’s used to, but surely there’s still beauty to be found in the familiar parts of life, isn’t there? “ all the people and the singing and the food... i wish it was always this lively here, i’d never want to leave! ”

on cue, the fact that she’s still searching for more information about aether reminds her that even if mondstadt was constantly this lively, she’d still have to leave at some point. whether that meant she would go somewhere else to find him, or leave teyvat entirely once she did, either way would result in her missing this atmosphere. forcing the depressing truth of her mission to the back of her mind, lumine clears her throat and shifts her focus over to diluc sitting across from her. the wide smile returns ( she hadn’t even noticed that it fell until now ) as she leans over to rest her elbows on the table between them with her chin sitting comfortably in her hands.

a quiet hush falls between them as the ocean waves lap against the cool sand of the beach. in the far distance, the sun has begun to set, painting the sea and sky a vibrant orange. had the mood been lighter, ayato would have taken the time to admire it in full. instead, his eyes are on thoma, taking in his every move while they’re out here alone.

“ when i asked around the estate, they all said they watched you leave, ” he begins softly, hands moving to clasp in front of him. “ i remembered that you like to spend time down here when you aren't occupied with work. naturally, i came here first. ” the hush falls again, more so from a lack of things to say than to simply exist to fill the spaces between his words. he knows why thoma chooses to come here, yet there is nothing ayato can say to ease what he’s feeling. he’s never felt so stuck, and an ache forms in his chest at the idea that he may say the wrong thing or make this worse. comfort is not his strong suit, but for thoma, something must be done, even if it’s something small.

“ i assume you have been out here for quite some time... ” and while thoma certainly isn’t incapable of taking care of himself, there’s no way to confirm that he hasn’t been sitting on an empty stomach all this time or something of the sort. even if he hasn’t, there is no harm in a second snack, is there?

damn it. and just when she was certain she managed to sneak away undetected... her pace never slows, even as barbara hurries to keep up with her, making it clear that she has no intention of turning back for choir practice— she never has, she never will. she’d prefer to keep her eardrums intact, thank you very much.

" somewhere else. " there is no reason to elaborate on her actual destination, not now. it is true that she's skipping a church event as usual, but there is work to be done in this short window of time. work that someone like barbara shouldn't be following her for. at the first of many stone steps that lead back to the church, rosaria stops, hand on her hip as she meets the girl's gaze with a frown on her lips. small as she is, that girl can keep up a little too well...

there is no need to voice the confusion such a statement invokes when childe should clearly be able to see how diluc's eyes narrow when they meet the other’s. it's likely meant to be the lead in to a joke or some kind of comment that would remind diluc exactly why he doesn't like him, but nothing happens. childe does exactly as he implies, and miraculously manages to stay quiet while he watches diluc set up a tent. strange. since talking is off the table, and he's caved so easily, this must be the next best thing to him. weird... whatever. as long as he isn’t being outright annoying, that makes it easier for diluc to stay on his best behavior.

traveling with the honorary knight would have been stressful enough, but after childe had been invited as well, it took everything he had to remain civil. he found out rather quickly that keeping himself occupied meant he could spend less time hearing whatever it was childe said and preserve his sanity in the process. tonight, it seems he has plenty of work to do and no time to humor the harbinger. funny how that wasn't the case before childe attempted to talk to him.

by the time the tent is in place and he's certain it won't be going anywhere, he turns to take on the next task, and sees childe’s eyes still on him. it hasn't been long, especially considering he knows what he's doing well enough to work fast, but the fact that he's been watched makes it feel like he's been there for hours. diluc is not insecure, exactly, but it certainly isn't comforting to have this much of childe’s attention on him.

there must be a reason he's doing this. perhaps it's to get him to lower his guard, or to deliberately make him uncomfortable, or... or something. just because his gaze seems unusually gentle does not mean he's not planning mischief. diluc focuses, perhaps a little too much, on how his eyes still seem void of any life, and suddenly he feels significantly less bad about letting his annoyed sigh be heard as soon as he forces himself to look away.

" are you satisfied? will you stop staring now? " when he's a little too hopeful that maybe he'll stop being watched, it clicks that while he's always had a problem with being observed, it’s never been this bad before. or maybe it has, and he’s just hyper aware of it now. he can’t tell. plenty of people watch him all the time in mondstadt, and in several different ways, yet none of them have agitated or embarrassed him like this.