eggbowl | In my blood...

Have I done enough to truly deserve their trust, I wonder...

[Dohalim's voice isn't of regret, but reflection instead. he leans against Zhongli as he ponders his words. relying on others and not letting his emotions reach him... it does sound easier said than done. he can't remember the last time he allowed himself to do such a thing, and even now, with the deity offering himself as someone for him to rely on, Dohalim isn't sure if he can allow himself to do it.

he can feel something try ti pick at that insecurity, but it's kept largely at bay by Zhongli's presence, or so Dohalim thinks. but it's still there, hanging like a shadow in the corner of his eyes; he chooses to ignore it for now, as long as it stays away. he lets out a soft sigh, moving the plate to the blanket so he can settle against the other]

The future... Not knowing what lies ahead is terrifying. How much will I stumble? How many times will I fall? Am I strong enough to pick myself back up? I'm... Uncertain about myself.

That is a question only others can answer, I believe.

[Zhongli's tail shifts absently as he speaks, its weight coming to rest on Dohalim's lap, wrapped comfortably around his waist.

It won't be easy, of course. Unmaking the false ideals that turned him to this path, to ignore what he might have seen with critical determination...]

... sometimes, it's all we can do to step forward despite the fear; failure and regret are often only steps behind us. Would that I could say it gets easier with time... but such has not been my experience. Stumbling and falling provide us with important information for when we climb back to our feet, though. To give up is easy, but what of those we would leave behind?

[Zhongli's gaze turns outward, his expression mostly unreadable, perhaps a little troubled. What, indeed...]

But neither does moving forward mean we should receive nothing good in the aftermath. We are allowed to change, to find what or who makes us happy, to strive for those moments of peace whilst deciding the ways we wish to change.

[exhaling a little laugh, he tilts his head.]

Would that I could claim to be as good with words as the other deities. I am an old man whose teeth were cut on battle, in truth.

[it explains a few things about him - the sheer lack of common sense he has in emotional circumstances, how quiet and sure he is even when he makes mistakes.]

[Dohalim falls silent, considering Zhongli's words, his gaze trailing down to the tail loosely wrapped around him. so strange, and yet, he doesn't shy from it. no, in fact, he gently places a hand on the appendage, fingers tracing along the scales that lay neatly along its shape. fingers even comb through the tufts of fur lining the top of Zhongli's tail, surprised at how soft it is, and how much softer the plume at the end is.

it's strange, and yet, Dohalim finds comfort in the warmth.

he huffs out a soft sigh, leaning his head to rest on the deity's shoulder]

I... hm... I suppose it is easier said than done. Forgive me for sounding so pessimistic, but... I cannot remember when the last time I allowed myself to be happy. Perhaps... before I'd become a lord, when...

[when he would sit in the square in Lenegis, with his friends as they performed the pieces Dohalim had written with their violins. simpler times, full of joy and excitement, when everything, including social statuses and norms would melt away as they cohesively played tune after tune for hours on end.

Dohalim shakes his head; it's a past he can't go back to]

Ah, it doesn't matter, now. I can't go back to it. But it was the only thing that made me happy.

[not allowing himself to play his violin makes him feel like a bird with its wings clipped but... he can't. it wouldn't be right to]

[It would be a lie to say he doesn't revel in the sensation. Zhongli has not had such gentle contact in so many years - not where his tail is concerned, at least - and the appendage always was so sensitive. It seems that hasn't changed, even here.

Still, he wants to focus on Dohalim, not himself. The redhead leans on him and his arm shifts, fingers tracing softly over his side.]

You owe me no apologies. I can hardly claim to know all you've been through, though it is... somewhat reminiscent of an old friend of mine.

[He doesn't elaborate, the words mild and easy. That circumstance does seem to come up ever more in relation to the Renan though...]

... if it made you happy, perhaps you should at least allow yourself to reminisce on it. [His gaze stays on Dohalim, watching every movement he makes.] It is not easy, nor does it come naturally, to celebrate even while you feel guilt. There isn't anything wrong with being unsure of your path forward.

That is why it is imperative to surround yourself with those you trust; if you can, find those you're willing to share your pain with, one day.

[He's a hypocrite on that point, but... well, he was the earthen God. Most days, he doesn't even admit to himself that he feels pain or regret.]

[not knowing about Zhongli's past, Dohalim can't comment on the hypocrisy of his words (though, he is curious about this friend the deity mentions). he instead latches onto the thought of allowing himself to truly trust in someone again, and to allow himself to reminisce of better days, of better memories. it weighs so heavily in his heart that he can feel the guilt bearing down on his shoulders, he can feel it like a nipping cold at his extremities. shadows dance along his peripheral; Dohalim doesn't dare look to see what they could be in case it conjures itself up to be something more than just a mere feeling.

Dohalim's fingers twist tufts of fir around them gently, admiring how soft it feels under his skin. almost silken, in fact... he does have to wonder where this came from. Zhongli had mentioned that he's a god so... maybe this is his true form? it feels real enough... he'll ask about it later.

he sighs softly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts]

I... Feel like I am undeserving to celebrate something that made me so happy when there are those who still mourn for it. For the loss of something so pure between the four of us. And they've made it abundantly clear that they do not seek reconciliation for everything that's been done.

[Fahria, especially. Dohalim sighs again]

It goes deeper than my own pain, I think. It's a guilt I've carried so deep within me for years that it almost seems like eternity.

Forgive me, for I fear I have not the words to provide an adequate and believable reasoning. My knowledge is all rather... firsthand, after all. I am not really any more perfect than you, or anyone else.

[Zhongli sighs, his expression turning complex for a moment before he resumes his soft movements, tracing circles against Dohalim's side now.]

It may not be my place to unravel all of this, either. To me, the fact that you wish to topple the society that created this dilemma in the first place speaks plain your determination. We are allowed to mourn that which we've lost, and to learn from that loss. Reconciliation is not necessary, and there is a good chance that those involved will never forgive you - but that doesn't mean you've done something unforgivable. For all the time I've spoken with you, observed you, I have never seen a man who would simply forsake friendship without adequate reason.

[that tail shifts then, lifting up to fluff a little of its fur in his face, hoping perhaps to insert a tiny moment of playfulness.]

The guilt doesn't fade quickly or easily, but ultimately, neither does the blame fall upon one set of shoulders. In my long history, the number of times where that has been a truth has been so few as to be ill worth mentioning. Celebrating the times that were happy is a good way to remember them, is it not? Even without anyone to share in a memory, I suspect those who are truly lost would rather see it that way. Of course, I cannot speak for Renans, given my... lack of experience with them overall.

I'd forsaken friendship in an act of self preservation.

[he'd mentioned it before, but Dohalim had never really gone into detail of what it meant. he could have allowed himself to die at the hands of his closest friend, he could have allowed Tarnigen to claim victory (even if he tried to cheat by drawing on astral energy in hand to hand combat, but Dohalim is willing to overlook that), but... his friend wanted it. he wanted this position more. not only for himself, but for Fahria as well. Dohalim didn't want any of this, but familial obligations and expectations...

Zhongli is right in Dohalim's want to topple a governing system that expects its people to strike down adversaries and friends alike so brutally to continue its conquest over another planet. he wants to topple a system that turns friends into adversaries, with expected bloodshed as payment for crowned victory. it's barbaric--

the deity's tail in his face pulls Dohalim from that train of thought, scrunching his nose slightly at the indignation of it before gently pushing the tail back down onto his lap. rude...]

I understand what you are saying. I just... In the end, I wonder if Tarnigen would have seen it that way. There was no warmth of familiar friendship when we crossed weapons with each other. Would he want me to celebrate his life and the memories we shared when I was the one who struck him down? Would it be fair to his widowed fiancée, and our other closest friend if I did so? I don't think it is. I don't think I could allow such a thing.

[it's so abundantly clear that Dohalim holds the thoughts and opinions of his friends so close to his heart that it's become so detrimental to his mental health, but could he really be blamed? he'd been alone in his childhood that when he'd found a group of friends who liked him for his talent rather than his social status, he'd latched onto it. so, for it to be ripped away from his grasp, because of his own actions, it's no wonder why all of it is so devastating, and that, even years after, it still affects him so]

[as he listens, it all starts to take shape in slow, meandering ways. Zhongli... can understand in as many ways as he cannot, in the end. his life has been so long, and he's seen so much loss that of course he has plenty of anecdotes, but...]

Mm. [his eyes close as he considers, tail curling back neatly in the young man's lap. to hear of Tarnigen, and of his reactions in that clashing...] Would you not wish for him to celebrate his life were the circumstances reversed? You both entered in to that space with the understanding of the rules of your engagement. I cannot speak of the procedures beyond my anecdotal knowledge, but... I would argue that you are not to blame for what happened.

[shifting again, Zhongli reaches up to cradle Dohalim's face. it's gentle and soft, easily pushed away if the redhead becomes too uncomfortable.]

You were placed into an impossible situation. You couldn't just back down, and - much like your friend, like anyone faced with the impending possibility of death... you fought to your fullest. Life is not fair, and it hesitates for no one, but I don't believe the reaction would be so different had Tarnigen won and realised the cost of that victory.

I don't know how much your other friends knew about the circumstances, either - for obvious reason. I won't ask you to recount it, but I will ask the question: if they were fully aware of what was required, and they still wished you to die over your friend, did they truly feel friendship? Such a thing is not transactional, and it cannot be defined by who "deserves" what.

And if they would have mourned you as they mourned him... even if they can't reconcile it now, and perhaps never will, is it truly you they're angry at? Or the circumstances they feel powerless to change?

Fahria certainly made it apparent that she's angry at me.

[the words of hatred and unforgiveness spat at him still rings in his ears, clear as if she'd just thrown them at him mere moments before. it hurt. it hurt to hear them. it hurt to see the disappointed gaze in Avakhir's eyes behind his glasses, and the silence that accompanied it. their backs turning away from him before he'd descended down to Dahna, without so much as another word.

the both of them knew that he and Tarnigen had to be pitted against each other like this. they also knew what it all meant. Dohalim had promised them that, if it came down to it, he would stop his and Tarnigen's duel if it seemed like the man couldn't continue. that he would stop it before he ultimately killed him. perhaps the three of them, or even the four of them, knew that Dohalim was the stronger one, that it was expected that he would come out as victor, that there would be death involved. but if Dohalim could incapacitate Tarnigen enough for their duel to be called...

but he'd been so persistent. of course he had to be. he was driven by his own ambition...]

I am undeserving of it. Of this. My title, and all that comes with it. I should have been the one stricken down instead. I hold no value to my life. I made a promise, and I broke it. And, like the coward that I am, I would rather end my own life rather than face it.

[he's still under the impression that he's alone in that aspect, that he has to deal with this guilt alone. in his dream, at least he's more willing to admit it, to give context to it, but the thought, so rooted in his psyche, comes out even in an environment made to nurture and give pause to the corruption and darkness]

[Zhongli inhales slowly, continuing the words. there's too much that's missing from the narrative. Dohalim isn't ready to face it, and there is... really nothing he can do about that. he's alive, and he's living, and yet all of this holds him rooted to the spot.]

Admittedly... I am no good at working out the understanding behind these sorts of thoughts and feelings. But in my eyes, I don't think it's so simple. If you broke your promise, then it was done for a reason. I don't know what that promise was, of course.

You aren't alone in this feeling. The sense of betrayal, of wondering if there was something, anything you could have done to change what was. I...

[he pauses then, exhaling a sigh and shifting to nuzzle his face into Dohalim's neck just a little. when did he start feeling the want for such comforts?]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sour this experience with my want for understanding. But you can rest assured that I'll never believe you're unworthy of what you have. I'll never give up on you, so long as I have the chance to help you carry the weight of your worries.

I promised I would put an end to the duel if it neared fatality. That I would incapacitate Tarnigen enough that they would call it. He... He was skilled in combat, but he never was any match for me.

[it's not like Dohalim is trying to toot his own horn; it's just a matter of fact. along with academics, he'd been trained at a young age on how to fight, to learn the intricacies of battle. all part of the expectations imposed on him, to continue his family's legacy, to bring home the sovereignty and continue his family's legacy. there had been many lords that had come from House il Qaras, but it was a path he didn't want to follow. not... that he had a choice in the matter.

Dohalim huffs out a soft breath, as he pulls himself away from Zhongli a little. his head turns, eyes trailing along the plant life around them]

A promise is a form of contract, is it not? If you are as you say you are, how could something like that be easily forgiven?

[what reason could there be to break it other than a selfish need to keep himself alive? had... had he wanted to believe that, if he were to explain the situation to Fahria and Avakhir, that they would understand? that Tarnigen was too driven by his own ambition? but he couldn't tell them that he cheated, that his ambition drove him to such desperation...

maybe he did deserve to lose them for lying to them]

What I've done cannot be forgiven. I've run from it, and from the people who have the right to be angry with me. I didn't want to face it, I didn't want to see the blood on my hands.

[Dohalim looks back at Zhongli, a small, tired frown on his face]

My worries... My anxieties... They hold the same weight as both Dahna and Rena, it seems. I'm... Tired. I'm tired of carrying it.

A promise is indeed a firm of contract, and the consequences for breaking one are... varied. Without knowing the full breadth of the circumstances, I cannot speak to this one.

[Dohalim turns away from him, and Zhongli simply watches for a moment. Indeed, the happenings on that planet were far beyond him, purely separate from the logic he himself operated on. And still...]

... almost nothing worth doing is easy. Mistakes are a sign of sentience, but... mm.

[Dohalim looks to him again, and Zhongli moves to pull him in. It isn't a request, as he pulls the younger man to his chest, stroking fingers through his hair.]

... let me carry it, then. [It's such a... simple, elegant solution, really.] That is my role, now; I carry the history of those past, and in my contracts, I will remember every step taken. Who you were, who you are, and who you become... I wish to see them all. I cannot find fault in you, as I simply don't believe your actions were unreasonable. I only want to see what awaits you at the long end of the road.

If you will share with me your story in full... at least allow me to carry the gentle core of your self... I will remember. I will hold all that you're afraid to show, and all that your decisions become. If it suits you, we can form another contract. I will become your penance; the place where you entomb your fears and regrets. Where you may seek both pain and solace.

You needn't decide how, in any case. My initial contract speaks to much of this already. If at any time you become irredeemable, I will carry out my word, and remember all that I have learned about you in turn.

[never you mind that there's a small part of him that fears he's getting too old, that even his immaculate memory may begin to give way to the steady, slow drip of time. Those worries don't matter here in the dream, at the very least.]

[there's a worry there, that if Dohalim were to share any of those fears and anxieties, if he were to lay them out for Zhongli to carry... what would become of the god if it all becomes too much? he's so willing to take it all on, almost determined to do so, but it's not his place to do so, right? or... had he been there this whole time because he himself was carrying so much, and that the deity had seen it, and entered into his court to keep an eye on him?

maybe he's reading too much into it.

Dohalim huffs out a soft sigh, his head pressing into Zhongli's chest gently as he considers his options. he's silent for a moment, but no thoughts come to mind, only questions]

You say you want to remember me... But what if I don't want to be remembered? What if I want to fade into obscurity, to be forgotten? What if I don't want what I've done to be remembered by anyone?

[he sighs again, eyes slipping closed]

But... What do you mean? How would a contract like that be formed? What would it entail?

... I don't know.

[It's an honest reply. If Dohalim truly chose to want to be forgotten, could Zhongli do it? If he had received a contract, perhaps...]

I would think it was a waste to forget you, I imagine. I rather enjoy your company, my lord.

But that contract... would largely be yours to write. If you wanted me to keep it all to myself, to never bring up what you spoke of... if you wanted to try to reconcile it in time. I am the purveyor of contracts, after all. I have chosen to remember many who have come before, those who I cared deeply for. I cherish their memory, even if it is not reasonable to share their stories.

[those he'd had to help escape their sad fate, only to have it catch up with them... those whose realities would always be tainted by the inevitable spread of evil and rage.]

[he huffs out a soft sigh; that really is a typical reply coming from Zhongli, even though he's not sure why he enjoys his company]

What if I told you to forget about me? What if that was contracted, that at the moment of my death, you are to forget everything about me? Would you do that if I asked of it?

[Dohalim's voice is soft, almost considering it. perhaps it would put his guilty conscience to sleep if he had that reassurance. he doesn't want to leave a legacy, he doesn't want anyone to remember his deeds and mistakes. he doesn't want anyone to remember him; if his life is forgotten, then...

at least, in this moment, he can speak freely of these things. at least he isn't hiding behind any walls, behind any excuses. and in this realm, it doesn't weigh heavily on his shoulders despite the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach]

Would you let me be forgotten?

... I... would heed your wishes to the best of my ability. Forgetting is not something within my power to promise, though. Not truly.

[Zhongli sighs, his tail curling a little more tightly, almost as if in self-reassurance. Memory itself is a strange thing, after all. One cannot completely erase one's actions, the history that's already written, and even that which is forgotten is often unearthed at the strangest of times.]

But... were it your wish, I could claim ignorance to your story. Loath though I am to give up what I was willing to stake my entire being on... that is a contract within my power to uphold.

[a beat, and then his fingers run gently down Dohalim's back.]

Of course, as with all valid contracts, both sides must find some benefit to the stipulations set forth. You would ask me to ignore my precious memories, to lock away my fondness... these facts make it difficult to say what a balanced contract would be.

Let you forget, I am not without my own selfishness, Dohalim. Quite the opposite, in fact; there was a time when I was, perhaps, the one God most hungry for power, long before I ever dreamed of something so final as a contract.

[this, of course, is ill known among even the greatest of historians anymore. The fact that Zhongli rarely omits information and lies even less still is the only semblance of confirmation the words hold.]

[a balance in their contracts... Dohalim is no stranger to contracts and agreements, and the benefits of bot parties that are laid out in the stipulations within said agreements, but that does have him wondering. their contract from before, the one he'd agreed to in a fit of desperation (desperation for what, he's not entirely too sure)...]

What of our first contract? Do you consider it fair? That you will accept everything I give you, everything I do to you as to mitigate the harm that I could bring to those who don't deserve it if I were to lose sense of myself again... In what way does taking all of that benefit you?

[Dohalim lifts his head up to look at Zhongli, a gentle, but scrutinizing gaze. surely, the memories that Zhongli will hold close to him isn't a fair trade off for everything he's willing to endure, right? is there some sort of ulterior motive (aside from keeping him alive) that he's hiding from Dohalim?]

I ask because I don't see the fairness in it.

Ah... that.

[Zhongli hums softly, reaching to graze fingers against Dohalim's jaw.]

My apologies if the terms of my side are somewhat... unclear; what I receive is, after all, an inherently personal benefit. It is balanced enough for this old man, you may rest assured. To continue to watch over you is worth more to me than you may realise.

[He exhales a soft laugh, then, leaning back to flop on the grass and pulling the Renan to flop over top of him.]

It isn't the most lopsided contract I've upheld, either. Perhaps I shall tell you why I dislike seafood so much, sometime.

[before Dohalim can say anything, or prevent himself from being tugged down, he finds himself on top of the deity, a small sound escaping him as he lands softly against his chest. there's a lightly undignified look on his face as he glances up at Zhongli again, prepared to counterargue the benefits of looking after him as a balance of their contract. but the mention of his distaste for seafood does pique his interest (it doesn't go unnoticed that, even though seafood isn't a culinary staple in Menancian cuisine, especially by Renans, it does appear at the dinner table every so often, and that Zhongli steers very clearly away from it whenever they did enjoy dinner together)]

Oh? Since we're here, would you tell it to me now?

[it would be a welcome distraction from unwanted thoughts, if anything. and Dohalim is genuinely interested to hear that story]

Mm. I suppose we have the time...

[He's not entirely sure the Renan will recall all of this, either. And while it's not the most embarrassing story out there... it's not really a pleasant one.]

As you know, the face of the planet has changed significantly since the time of the gods, when astral energy was more... balanced overall. In those times, it was not terribly unusual to find little parts of the world that opened into the depths of the dark and the Abyss, and at one time - some several hundred years after I had created the land of commerce and settled in to watch over my people, and it was brought to my attention that a number of... creatures had escaped into the realm before one such pathway was open.

[The look on his face would humble any war veteran, just the stone-faced stare of someone with way, way too long a memory.]

They were small creatures, eminently flexible and seemingly able to hide in the tiniest of crevices. Naturally, people struggled to rid themselves of the nuisances - and there's little and less more distressing than trying to have a nice meal or a cup of tea only to have one crawl out from between the cracks of a table. So, they requested my assistance to combat the menace. As the purveyor of contracts and the protector of the land, it was my solemn duty to uphold.

[It's quite a story to tell, especially in Zhongli's unhurried way.]

[the thousand yard stare doesn't go unnoticed by Dohalim as he peers up at the deity. he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't at all curious as to why said look is painted across his face. he hangs onto every word, only growing more curious]

What did you end up doing?

[because it seemed like the only way to get rid of these pesky creatures was to extract them by hand, and surely, Zhongli wouldn't have been the one to do so? perhaps he had some godly power that would dispel them easily?]

You didn't have to go to every house, did you?

I did.

[Zhongli's eyes close for a moment, a little shudder threatening to run down his spine.]

Creatures of the Abyss aren't held to the same laws as others; were they related to the errant astral energy of another deity, perhaps that would have made it easier. Instead, they were quite drawn to living energy...

As a result, I spent my time traveling to each afflicted household, creating prisons to house each of the creatures. If a normal human's astral energy could draw them out, something like mine was rather like candy...

I still remember the way it felt, not to mention the way it smelled, when the slimy, wriggling things would attach themselves to me. But... it was for my people. It was necessary.

Since that night, just the sight of seafood brings the memory rushing back.

[Dohalim is still for a moment, watching Zhongli as if trying to decide whether the story is an exaggerated account, or if it really did happen. either way, it's a moment more before he dissolves into laughter, shoulders shaking as he hides his face in the deity's chest. it's a hearty laugh, a genuine sound, and it does take another moment before Dohalim lifts his head back up, wiping away tears in the corners of his eyes]

Oh, no... Of all the things to have caused your aversion to seafood, I hadn't thought it would be that.

[a shame, really, that barely any stories of astral deities exist nowadays, thanks to the Renans, because Dohalim would love to read about exploits such as this. for all that they are all-powerful, stories like this almost make them sound relatable. and to hear that Zhongli had cared about his own people to the point where he did something like that...

he really can be selfless when it comes to those he wants to help]

I can only imagine how bad they really are if you have such a visceral reaction.

[Zhongli endures the laughter with as much pose as he can muster; honestly, it's such a refreshing sound that he doesn't want to stop Dohalim. Besides, he'd lived with being tormented over that particular time period already, so why should it bother him so?]

Well, one should hope such a... strange phenomenon is so rare as to only be documented once, after all. It would be surprising if you dreamed up some kind of similar scenario, no?

[He shifts his weight and exhales a faintly put upon noise.]

There were simply... entirely too many of them, and I had to work quickly lest something escape.

Not that I know of. But then again, Renans have a tendency to cover any and all of Dahnan's history. Though, I haven't heard anything of the sort happening during my tenure as lord, nor the previous reign of past lords.

[dipping his head back down, Dohalim rests his chin on Zhongli's chest]

I do have to wonder if the zeugles outside of Viscint are from the very creatures that Renan scientists manage to find and capture.

[knowing how far some of those scientists will go to create the perfect zeugle isn't lost on Dohalim. honestly, are they so necessary... if it were up to him, he would abolish the creatures from Menancia so his people could roam free in their land, but... the empire's word is above his own]

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