crescentview | A foreboding feeling fills this place... (Feb

[ So, a lot has occurred these past few months.

But, what's important is that He Xuan comes to a realization that he's done with doing any sort of dithering in anything. Not that, in retrospect, he's done much of it in his own, personal opinion, given his actions are not any less than his best.

...Though, the results of them at times have been dubious.

Still, it's all not enough for him. Not like this. He Xuan makes his appearance by Childe's lovely abode in the middle of the day, and raps a knuckle against the door if he isn't there. ]

Tartaglia. I've come to visit.

[ Who else can it be but He Xuan with that voice? ]

Edited 2023-03-02 01:31 (UTC)

[ Opening the door to lean on the hinges, Tartaglia strikes a less than formidable figure just standing there in plain view. Hardly a look befitting the murderer he is, leaving it ajar so He Xuan can invite himself inside. ]

Come on in.

[ No other roommates to be concerned about, given that Power and Meowy have recently vacated the premises. Fetching a pitcher of water and a few cups to go on the living room's coffee table, he guides He Xuan to the couch. Go on, take a seat. He'll do the same, dropping into a very squashy armchair. ]

What's the occasion?

[ When Tartaglia comes to the door, it's confirmation that he's home. Not that he expected much else, given the timing of his visit—it's quiet nonetheless, no sight of any roommates that would bother them.

But, easily, he allows himself to sit down on the couch. He Xuan doesn't quite yet reach for the cup that it settled onto the table, finding himself caught up in thought. To call this situation nerve-wracking is an understatement—ironic, isn't it? That he has existed for so long...well, a certain phrase comes to mind, so he just says it bluntly: ]

...Tartaglia, I find that I have fallen in love with you. I want to be with you, until the end of your days. There is no other who has managed to capture me so...as everything you have done, every moment we've spent together has meant more to me than I can manage in mere words.

However, make no mistake—when you need someone, I want to be that person.

[ His words are a bit more soft when he speaks here. But he suddenly stands, glad he isn't opening the cup because right now it'd be shattered in his hands from holding it so tight. ]

Together, we can be a force that shakes the foundation of any world, if you so wish it.

Came prepared, huh... that's unfair.

[ Upright he goes, stalking into plain view. He really is embarrassed; red, brilliantly red, all over, complexion too pale to hide the flush creeping over him. Tartaglia's reaching for He Xuan before the moment ends; he's nothing short of ruthless with his hand contoured to that cold face, loitering in the closeness. ]

Follow me and you'll have no choice but to keep moving forward. I won't let you live with anything less.

[ Soft, jagged statements, when he's raw with the words, fingers steadier than the gravity of what he's saying. ]

That's what it means to be precious to me. There's no way out of it.

[ Might just be slander, ignoring the cups and pitcher and any decorum to confess, grinding his teeth against any stuttering hesitation until the edge to his inflection melts. ]

Come with me. Stay by my side and witness me tear the world asunder. I'll let you accompany me to the end.

[ For far too long He Xuan has found himself feeling so unprepared, off-center. But after a point in the fall, when everything seems to have been continously uncertain, clarity that seemed so distant even after vengeance had been taken, finally arrived. So, he quietly accepts those words gracefully, but when Tartaglia comes closer, he can't help feel foolish.

When the hand lightly touches his face, cold as ever, his expression melts into warmth, and despite the chill, it is as if spring has come. ]

I have no intention of doing otherwise.

There is no one else. I will see it all, experience it all with you...

[ These notions, perhaps sound so insane. But to him, they are earth-shattering and captivating - in conviction, in emotion, and everything. He Xuan will take it all. And so he leans forward... ]

...by your side. Until the end.

[ ...capturing the other’s lips against his. ]

[ Face turned, he leans in and allows the kiss, sinuous and slow, the barest hint of teeth underscoring everything. Then he withdraws, hand slid off of He Xuan's face. It's liminal space, too close and too far. ]

You're sure fond of kisses. What's up with that? I don't have that much experience! I'm pretty innocent, you know.

[ Lip-locking any of the girls in Liyue and Inazuma never even crossed his mind. No time for love or affection or anything that could break the nerves. Romance is a construct incompatible with bloodlust and self-annihilation. Plunking back down in the seat, he helps himself to pouring out a glass straight from the water pitcher.

He's parched, after all. He's also halfway to losing it, so he keeps taking sips of the same cupful, starving to satiate that glass-like itch under his bones, the compulsion to lose himself to violence like an unclutched flame. ]

Fight me. I'd like that rematch today. [ Someone's a foul (legacy) ginger again. ] Win, and... well, let's see. I'll tell you my real name. How about it?

[ But maybe they shouldn't go head-to-head indoors? This place isn't the least bit shabby anymore. No sense demolishing it now. ]

[ The way he says that is absolutely endearing, though He Xuan certainly knows how to read between the lines—know that if he speaks as much, he means it, even with a light tone that puts him at ease. ]

Innocent? Even so...

I just like kissing you. Can't help it. It has been a long time since I have been able to have anyone so cherished by my side.

[ He Xuan is painfully honest in his admission, though also easily so than before, but he's patient, quiet for a moment as the other is finally taking a sip from the cup. In contrast, he just watches.

But, at the mention of a rematch, he isn't finding himself feeling that it's well out of his interest. It's been awhile since he has fought someone (pirates and those other terribly rude residents don't count let's be real), and he's been looking forward to it, actually. ]

I'll grant your request. I'll be knowing your real name by the end of today.

[ Wow. ]

Overconfident, are we? Spare me. I'm not nice enough to pretend I didn't hear that! [ Sorry, he's such a mouthy creature, whether he's going by Childe or Tartaglia or even Ajax. ] Still, I can't deny that I'm flattered.

[ It's nice, and sincere, and a lot more than he deserves. So much has he forsaken in the pursuit of strength that he's a little bashful when it comes to the sweet-talking. He really just can't help it, ducked away and grinning a bit to himself. Cherished, huh? Is he really so loved by He Xuan? There's so much warmth filling him that he can hardly withstand it, back up to his feet and roving around the couch where his partner sits. ]

If I win, I want another match. Every week, at that. That ought to keep you on your toes.

[ Rising to stand, he extends his hand. Go on, hold it. You know you want to. ]

And... [ What else is there? Plenty of innumerable, nameless things, but the next request he makes is a small one. ] ... you have to smile more. Seeing you in a good mood puts me at ease.

[ So maybe He Xuan can take a break from all that doom and gloom and live with him. ]

Think that's all I want. [ His desires tend to be very simple. ] Show me everything this time. Hold nothing back.

[ Honestly, He Xuan anticipated that Tartaglia would have at least something to say to what he tacked on there, hah, receiving it in rare, but good humor, happy to witness a liveliness impossible to truly diminish no matter what. But at what follows next, and seeing how much it effects him so, He Xuan finds that he's feeling so foolish. It's a strange thing, being in love again.

Yet, like this, he finds he can't be anything less than pleased, already resolved not to give in to despair. ]

Suppose we will see.

[ Unable to resist the bait, he takes a step and also encloses Tartaglia's hand firmly within one of his own, unrepentantly intertwining their fingers, eyes still bright with undeniable warmth. ]

That won't be too difficult. Around you, smiling feels like it's so much easier. You brighten my life just by being near me...so naturally, making you feel at ease, making you happy—I'll ensure that I'm capable of doing that and more.

[ In so many ways. He Xuan has been holding onto misery for far too long. So, coming even closer, he will plant another kiss, nothing short of affectionate, though he does pull back, only slightly, even while his other arm slides around the man's waist. ]

No point in hiding anything at this point. If I held something back, could imagine you'd only be angry with me.

Come on, don't say that. Be happy for your own sake. If you're content with me, I can live with that.

[ As the one to instigating this handhold, Tartaglia's terribly flustered by the tenderness he's shown? Please, this wasn't supposed to happen. Why is he the one getting gun-shy? All of this bravado just folds like a deck of cards, squeezing those cold fingers in return. ]

How you can do such embarrassing things with a straight face, I'll never know...

[ What, does he have a waist that's easy to grab? Stop tempting him to assert dominance by gripping He Xuan's waist back. Given over to griping for all of a moment, he forfeits over that kiss, then slouches where he's seated, hands still conspicuously linked.

After that, Tartaglia reciprocates by coming in for a hug, head lolling on one shoulder. ]

Enough stalling. [ Eughhhh, he craves combat? ] Holding me can come later.

[ But he's still embracing him, anyways. ]

Though, doesn't sound like you mind it much.

[ He Xuan's unable to keep himself from smiling, despite those words. Is it because he can tell that Tartaglia is so touched by what he said? He may be a bit proud as well.

If anything, he also considers the small griping adorable. Especially since what comes over ensures that he's now in a hug with the other male's head resting against his shoulder. So, even with the other man speaking the way that he does, he's not enticed to immediately pull away, a full embrace ensuring that there's more holding on than not. ]

Can it?

[ He's just greedy about having Tartaglia in his arms for a little bit. How terrible of him. ]

...Though, I do recall that there is something I have been looking forward to giving you. I'm sure you wouldn't mind some more stalling in light of that?

Sure, if you best me in battle. I don't reward the defeated.

[ No longer cradling He Xuan, he's just lounging there with his cheek on that shoulder, somewhat glum with the fizzled-out prospects of a fight. Awfully neglected, he shuts his gaze and feigns sleep like the annoying little beast that he is, off-kilter and homicidal but mostly in a charitable mood.

When addressed, his eyelids stay shut, breath drifting and absentminded. It isn't a truly sullen look he's wearing on his face, no real displeasure occupying his voice. ]

Fine. May as well wait it out, since you insist. Remember I showed you mercy.

[ Oh, how Tartaglia suffers. ]

What is it?

[ He Xuan's going to raise a hand to lightly raise fingers to run through the strands of red hair, though only for such a short time.

Even if he has no intentions for making Tartaglia wait too long for a battle he's been looking forward to, he does think like this, the man is endearing as always. That being said, there is a part of him that wishes to hold him for a bit longer still, but he can't show him what it is like this, and he's not unreasonable. ]

I won't forget.

[ Reluctantly he does pull back, reaching into one of his sleeves to pull out a certain...something. A dagger He Xuan had gone through obtaining with the intention of gifting him, regardless of what transpired upon his arrival. Holding it properly, letting it rest in the center of his hand, he can only offer it to him. ]

For you. Feel free to keep it wherever you wish.

Kind of dangerous to give me this.

[ Eyes slid open a fraction and wandering up to regard the knife, he extends his hand to tentatively grasp along the hilt. It's a gleamy, showy thing, all tapering edges and inset jewels, nothing sheathed away. Tartaglia promptly brings the metal-sleek curve of the dagger flush to He Xuan's throat, only a centimeter or so apart.

The moment holds itself like a cord with no slack in it. Press an inch up or down or even diagonally and it'll cut ravenously into the skin, pale as porcelain, and bring blood welling up to the surface. Should he lose his concentration for even a second, the same outcome awaits. Look alive. He's daring a reaction, tempting it on with just his fingers. ]

Thanks. I'll use it.

[ Flopping back down on the upholstery, he turns his sights toward the ceiling. Lobbing the dagger up in the air, Tartaglia tosses it only to catch it, then flings it again. ]

Want to live with me?

Is it?

[ He Xuan asks, seemingly hardly bothered—now simply watching the way Tartaglia's reaching out to grasp a hold of the entire thing. The reaction the other male gives renders asking practically a wasted breath given how fast an answer is supplied due to it, the sharpness of the dagger clear and apparent danger in how quickly the pointed tip is positioned to He Xuan's neck.

Most people would react adversely or surprised—all normal, human reactions. Conversely, he just simply smiles slightly, as if pleased. Seemingly lukewarm to someone hardly inattentive, but eyes bright despite it all. ]

I don't doubt you will.

[ For a little bit, He Xuan watches the way he plays catch with the dagger, and in the space of the lull when Tartaglia's caught a hold of it after a throw, steps forward, reaching out quickly to have fingers wrap tightly around that wrist, leaning in. ]

Yes. No point of living with anyone else, after all. Now, feel like still heading out for the bout?

[ Right about this time maybe a certain burnt portrait suddenly displays itself on the wall behind him?! Like out of a horror movie or something, it's all good (no) ]

[ hello, he xuan??????????? ]

Of course I do. Here I thought you'd never ask—

[ Except he's left staring when the painting manifests out of nowhere. Cool, cool. Nearly fumbling his grip on the dagger, he's retreating from that those clinching fingers to jerk upright and off the couch so he can stare at that burning travesty on the wall.

It sure is blasphemous to look at. More than startled, Tartaglia's offended. ]

Isn't that going overboard?

[ Ah, he's tired. Poisoned by exhaustion, if you will, as he shoots hydro so his place doesn't incur burn damage, only for the portrait to suddenly disappear without a trace left behind in its wake? Why is he always being mocked... ]

[ He Xuan's expression looks slightly confused at the sudden movement, but already turning around himself to see what Tartaglia's caught a glimpse of, his expression goes flat with an emotion that is hard to decipher just by looking at it.

Honestly, this place is just a test against one's patience—He Xuan himself feeling like he has aged a few hundred extra centuries, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose for a moment. The goddess should count herself lucky He Xuan isn't so hotheaded to always seek out immediate confrontation upon being immediately annoyed. Otherwise there'd be over ten unfortunate visits by now. But, letting his hand fall down, he's watching the other try to spray the portrait...which fades out hilariously so, given the timing.

That...totally had to be on porpoise (lol), right? Absolutely. ]

Hmph. Probably the goddess being unable to resist creating some nonsense, or something else entirely, but just as foolish regardless.

[ Honestly... ]

Is that actually the case? [ His gaze drifts over, no longer transfixed on the wall. Shrug fallen deep into exaggeration, Tartaglia turns away. ] It's a hard pill to swallow. Weren't the two of us on good terms? She acknowledges my strength...

[ Such a letdown. Glumly striding off down the hallway, Tartaglia keeps the discontentment to himself. He's yanking his boots on by the entryway when he pipes up again. ]

I'll spar with you later. [ Consider the battle postponed. This heretic has to walk the disappointment off. ] Let's grab your things tomorrow. Least I could do is help you move in.

[ Wrenching the doorknob open, he continues to idle just a little longer. Standing in the rectangle of sunlight flooding around him, the words come slow. ]

... It's Ajax, by the way. That's the name I was born with.

[ So this is his concession of defeat. Anyways, Tartaglia's vamoosing after that very goofy incident. Feel free to join him on this stroll as he treks off into the surrounding farmland. ]

[ He Xuan has no doubts that the goddess does. But, even if one like a 'god' or 'goddess' acknowledges another's strength...from what he can tell those beings still will unrepetantly pursue their desired goals without a care to the collateral damage. Not to mention, the being will value more who observe piety towards their being. Loyalty and faith.

At least, this is his biased opinion in matter, but regardless, the moment is over and done with. Instead lingering in the remains of that disappointment, He Xuan's looking at the other as he calls off the fight, thereby providing his name instead. ]

...Ajax, then. I will commit your name to memory.

[ He Xuan says, as with heavy gravitas as he believes necessary. It's a precious admission, regardless of the circumstances. A name he will utter with unwavering affection, and as the other begins to take off, He Xuan will join him.

And, then, at some point, begin to tell him of some things he has kept tightly to his chest. Of his own past, resolving that nothing much between them remains hidden. After all, they will share a future...together. ]

A foreboding feeling fills this place... (Feb - March Closed Threads for He Xuan)

Post-Gifting~

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