eggbowl | In my blood...

[he's stopped by more people than he expects, providing mild-mannered updates to the circumstances. outside of that, he asks for no assistance and so receives none, cleaning up what he can without water and detergents.

the vines, at least, are mostly gone before the servant finds him, a soft clearing of throats catching his attention. he's a little surprised by the summons, but nods nonetheless, slipping past the servant after a murmur of the cleaning that still needs to be done.

his steps echo in the halls of the palace, and there's not even the slightest hesitation as Zhongli opens the door and closes it behind him. the first pause comes at the odd sensation that filters through - it was there before, he supposes, but distant and unobtrusive.]

... Do you require something of me, Dohalim?

[he doesn't quite know what to expect, but it doesn't matter, ultimately. here, he's just as he always is, with that same unreadable expression as ever.]

[he doesn't speak at first, eyes locking with Zhongli's. there's that same look of madness in them, shadowing the usual brilliant amber, almost darkening them. whispers are loud in his ears again as he slowly approaches the other]

I want to ask you something.

[hands come up to slam on either side of Zhongli's head, effectively pinning him against the wall. something almost sinister tugs at their bond as Dohalim lets out a shuddering sigh, leaning forward enough to hunch his shoulders. it's so uncharacteristic to how he usually holds himself, tall and proud]

Do you not feel it? Do you not know what lurks beneath the city, what horrible secrets lie in the deep? Have you not seen it? The Earthen Lord, and he does not know what goes on in his own realm...

[it's not clear if he's talking about himself or Zhongli; his words sounding unhinged in its soft tone]

A different lord would have taken a different path. One like his predecessors. If I had become the lord that Kelzalik wanted, then that lake of Dahnans who have been robbed of their astral energy...

You speak from experience. But have you experienced that? Countless formless bodies fill a grotto under our very feet. How could you not have seen it?

[it's concerning, that touch of madness. something almost physical, deep and horrible. before he can speak his acquiescence, hands slam into the wall beside his head, his space taken up, gaze taken up by the redhead.]

... Haah.

[it's a soft exhale in the face of that strange tug on their bond, not quite painful, but... strange. unpleasant. so unsure is he that he has no answer for the first bit. for him, after all, the Earth is his most notable worry, and the people... well, he isn't perfect.]

... Bodies, yes. Countless forms unworthy of the end they received. I cannot speak to that grotto; that is not an anomaly natural to any circumstance I knew. [at the press for reasons, he only continues that steady stare, unflinching despite the way Dohalim leans into him, over him.] Do you want an excuse? Something you have a rebuttal for? Something to retaliate against? I am aware of my failures. Why I failed to see it for so long doesn't matter.

I cannot change the past. All I can do is remember it and move on. It's the least I can do.

Why remember it when all it will cause is pain? There is already too much pain.

[Dohalim leans forward, breaking his gaze away from Zhongli as he presses his forehead against his shoulder. it's warm, like stone in the sun, but strong, like the sturdiness of earth]

I... Lose all sense of control, when I remember, Zhongli. It consumes me... I have always sought for that control, to conceal what truly lies deep within me. But now...

[whatever it is has fully taken hold of him again, threatening to unleash itself again. not in an explosive way like before, but quiet, yet deafening wave that continues to tug at the bond]

Should we not face punishment for our inactions?

[that stoicness breaks a little as Dohalim's forehead presses into his shoulder. he's so young... really, Zhongli supposes he should have expected it. he has no sweet words of comfort, no uplifting stories.]

... Sometimes, the pain is worthwhile. Remembering is... worthwhile. Over time, the ache of it fades, but... try, if you will.

[there's an almost thrilling sense of danger to it, as he takes in the tug of their bond. how hard he must be fighting... long fingers move to hold him, light but sturdy.]

How do you mean? Is that pain not enough punishment for you, Dohalim?

I don't want to remember.

[it's a sudden movement as Dohalim pulls himself back, swift motions have him pulling on Zhongli's arm with unnatural strength. potted plants placed at the foot of Dohalim's bed are knocked over as he shoves the deity onto it, effectively bending him over the edge of it. pressing himself up against him, Dohalim pins him in place again as he mutters softly in Zhongli's ear]

I do not have the luxury of time like you have. A mortal lifetime is but a blip to you, eventually fading into history. Our contract forged, that is my punishment. To live this life... But what of you? What is your punishment for failing this realm and its people?

[a hand slides up to gently grasp at Zhongli's neck, fingers threatening to squeeze at his throat. a small part of him tries to stop what he's doing, tries to pull away, but... he can't. he's lost control of himself again...]

[Perhaps it's surprise that sees him so easily moved. Plants clatter and roll somewhere near his feet, and Zhongli gives a grunt as he finds himself pinned to the bed. Dohalim is warm over him, voice soft in his ear.]

A mortal life is just as worthy. You-- [His thoughts are put on hold as fingers curl over his throat. That sensation sinks into his bones, sinister and warped.] ... what punishment do you think I deserve, I wonder?

You certainly seem to have an idea in mind... and it is, after all, part of my contract to endure your worst.

Hm… it is as you said. Perhaps this is your punishment…

[fingers squeeze once, as if a warning for… something. A sign of things to come, maybe. Dohalim still fights against that feeling, that corruption, but how much more can he fight if he just wants Zhongli to know of the pain that he feels? The darkness that resides in him, that's staked its claim on him? He wants Zhongli to know what this madness is doing to him, how deep its roots have taken hold. Is he beyond help?]

Perhaps you have an answer for me, because I'm unsure as to what it is. What is happening to me, I wonder if you know.

[the hand on the other's throat slides up and back to grasp tightly at his hair, before twisting his head and pressing the side of it into the mattress roughly. So he can see those golden eyes as Zhongli answers]

You say you will endure the worst of what I can give you, but are you prepared to take it?

[his voice has taken a different nuance, still soft, but with deep heaviness in it. Tired, but simmering with hurt and anger. He's angry that he has to endure this pain, that he has for a long time. Does Zhongli not realise… can he not see it? Time will do nothing but make it hurt more, like a festering wound that will not heal. He isn't blessed with the long life the deity has. How could he say that time will help?]

[wrong. It's wrong. Something distinctly not Dohalim, though it's not enough to force him back. No, it's not like that. He can feel it against their bond, twisted and harsh as it threatens to seep into aether.

He may have mistaken how deeply it had taken root already.]

... nngh. This corruption is--

[fingers grasp hair and shove his face into the bed and Dohalim's questions continue. It's a complex thing, something he can't heal. He never could. But he... answering like this is difficult at best, and a tough of delirium against his senses makes him wonder if it's really so bad.]

... I am prepared. I know not where or when this corruption was planted, and it isn't something I can cure, but... I can endure it.

[and maybe he can alleviate some of the pain of it. Some of the anger that roils in that slow sprouting core. His gaze is sharp, as always, hard to determine in full with one cheek pressed into the mattress, but there is a soft kindness there.

And as an answer, his astral energy extends to envelop Dohalim's, acting as something of a buffer or a shield to help stem the spread of corruption. It's not enough to relieve its influence, but the pain...

Maybe this truly is his punishment. Taking others' pain is nothing new to Zhongli, offering them an ear and an insightful word, but this... it's unnatural. Nothing Dohalim did should have caused this, and nothing the Renan could have done should have made this acceptable. Still, as long as it's levied at him, that should be fine.

It will be fine. He can take this. The Renan isn't alone.]

[there's resistance against the warm astral energy trying to soothe the turmoil, trying to push it away. this is not what he needs. he needs to find that control again, to pull himself back before he hurts Zhongli. but... the unrest, the whispers... it only drives him more. fingers grip tightly onto black hair, twisting slightly]

Corruption is what you call it?

[it only makes sense that it is. rational thought has left him as madness takes over once more]

You know what it is, and yet, you have no cure for it. For a being that has walked this planet since before it was Dahna, the lack of omnipotence is astounding.

[perhaps he made it so easy for it to seep in, to toy with his emotions and pick them apart. he held them in for so long... never once expressing them when all he wanted was to. he'd been alone for so long... even his own friends abandoned him, in the end. he doesn't blame them, but still...]

It has its hold on me. It has for a long time. Alone... Is it truly all that surprising?

[irrationality fogs his mind as he speaks, not making much sense as he does. perhaps the small part of him that's struggling to break free from all of this is also trying to reach out to Zhongli for help. to reach for him in hopes that the deity will pull him back out from this pit]

[his astral energy flickers faintly when Dohalim twists fingers in his hair, a sharp hiss escaping him. the fact that he doesn't want to injure the man is... troublesome, but here he is.]

I am no healer. [when he speaks his voice is breathy, threaded with pain. madness, Dohalim - he isn't sure which, but it resists his own energy, and while he doesn't let it withdraw there's a sense of worry.] Omnipotence is a fallacy raised by those who wish to rule by fear. I have no need to pretend I am more than I am. Corruption is not something I have ever had the ability to cure. I can only help stem it... and promise a kinder fate, should it still grow out of control.

[what did he go through, to reach this stage? it's not as simple as others, as soothing the rage and thirst for carnage he'd been privy to before. how to handle this one... he doesn't speak with the perfect delicacy of other gods, after all. his personality is too blunt, too rigid in so many ways.]

... You... are not alone. Why are you so sure that you are, Dohalim?

[he'd turn, face the man, but under the circumstances that's not possible. too much attention is placed on trying to find Dohalim within the madness and irrationality, to strengthen his connection with the young man to help him out. it's not as if he's the only one who had the thought to do so, but... he's the only one here right now. moreover, the bond of their contracts filters any outward fluctuations of astral energy and corruption to his own body, pressuring his resilience to try and break in, to corrupt him in turn.]

A kinder fate...

[hot anger bubbles up again, and with it comes a need to hurt. to cause pain, just so Zhongli knows just even a fraction of what he's feeling. Dohalim presses himself against the other just a little more, knee roughly nudging his thighs apart. his fingers don't let up on Zhongli's hair, as if gripping onto some form of reality, so he doesn't completely go off the deep end. he's toeing that line, he's sure, but he's not quite there, yet.

but his comment on how he's not alone, however... that triggers something in him. more of that anger rises in him; he breathes heavily through gritted teeth]

You know nothing... I have no one. Gone, because of me, because of what I've done. I've received hatred from those I've held closest to me, watched as their backs have turned to me.

[his face contorts to mirror that anger, but within it, within his eyes, there's that hint of anguish, sadness for what he's been through. Dohalim still reaches for Zhongli, to grasp at anything, but this corruption... it's holding him back, pulling him back down into darkness.

but that corruption starts to win over him; e presses his leg against the deity even more, knee resting against the edge of the bed and effectively pinning Zhongli in place. his free hand slides down, slipping under him to grasp at clothing, to push and pull it aside. he just wants control. to control his emotions, to control this conversation, to control himself, even if he's unsure of even that, right now]

Do not speak of me as if you know. You do not.

[it's a little baffling, in the moment, what Dohalim is intending to do. even as a God, he'd never considered intimacy with someone who he didn't care for, so the idea of it - even as he's pinned to the bed with a knee between his thighs - isn't even vaguely on his mind.

the Renan speaks, a petulant child lashing out in anger and sorrow and self-hatred, and Zhongli can only feel pity in that moment. it is, after all, the tirade of someone who is less unlike the God than he knows. to lose friends, to watch them turn against you, against your morals and intentions...]

My words will not reach you now, I know this. But perhaps, somewhere, it will stick. I don't know your history. I don't know what you, personally, have been through, and I have never claimed to.

[his legs spread a little wider as Dohalim's thigh slides between them, knee pressed to the bed and pinning him down all the more. though his hands are free enough, he doesn't move them in opposition. there isn't a point, he doesn't think.

... even if there is the faintest tinge of pink to his cheeks when realisation dawns on him, as fabric shuffles and shifts aside. of all the ways to assert control, even in madness...]

But I don't need to understand your pain to understand pain. Nor to want to offer solidarity.

[Dohalim's hand stills for a moment as he listens to Zhongli's words. that small, rational part clings to them in hopes that it will be enough to pull him back out, but it's like wading through molasses. the corruption is invasive, and while the deity's doing what he can to stem the spread, Dohalim is worried that it may be too late. it's probably been too late for a while, and he just hadn't realised. but... he still gently tugs at their bond, the warmth the only comfort he can cling to in the dark.

but the maddened part of him, as the cloying corruption continues to swirl in his mind, lets out an angry sound, still seething. it tries again to overtake Dohalim again. this time, not pushing against Zhongli's astral energy, but, instead, using that bond to seep into his]

I don't want solidarity from you. I don't want pity from you.

[Dohalim is still unmoving, hand still, fingers hooked onto waistband of the other's pants]

You speak of promising a kinder fate to those who cannot be saved from this. So why must you torture me so?

[That corruption turns then, and in some ways it's what he's been waiting for. Rationality still holds in him, his astral energy unwavering in the face of those words, at least.

If Dohalim wants stories of loss... Zhongli could keep him busied for the rest of his life, probably. But as he stills, as his astral energy pulses and resonates with Dohalim's, it slowly strips away at the edges of that madness. It gleams like burnished gold, gentle and warm as it shatters what has no place between them and bolsters what should. It isn't perfect, corruption tainting that bond and Zhongli's energy like a corrosive tarnish, just in little flecks and bits.]

I didn't-- say that. [The effort leaves him distracted, just a little. His normal gentility and poise suffers for it, a sharp inhale and exhale sounding as a sickly sensation crawls through him.] I said that I would take action before they lost complete control... and that the fate would be kinder than that loss.

[and, almost ironically... even that is only so much kinder. Hatred and corruption fester in the dark, growing stronger over time, but... it's not as simple as Dohalim seems to think. True, for him, right now, death may be an option... he still doesn't think the man deserves that pain.

He wants to show him kindness and warmth, even if it means he has to kill him or seal him later. That hasn't changed.]

I don't do this as torture. It isn't an easy path, but I... would like to help you walk it. If you don't want that, then... I suppose I'm sorry.

[there's a quiet consideration for Zhongli's words, ones that somehow reach Dohalim. Perhaps it's the aid of their astral energies melding together, but he eventually loosens his grip on the other's hair, his other hand slipping out from under them. Leaning forward, Dohalim rests how forehead against Zhongli's shoulders again. He'll take the time to be mortified about all of this, later, but for now, between the quelling corruption and the warmth of the deity's energy wrapping around him, it's enough to finally calm him down. Barely, but better than moments before]

Why... Why do you want to? Why walk with me when this is such a slippery slope? It's buried its roots into me, ensnared me.

I've been tainted with this madness, and yet you...

[his knee slips from the edge of his bed, and he more or less slumps against Zhongli. There's an exhaustion thar nearly overwhelms him as he slowly comes back to his senses, now very aware of how much this is all affecting him physically and mentally; as if he'll crumble if this keeps going like this. He knows he will... It's just a matter of how much Zhongli is willing to endure before letting him go]

[pain eases as Dohalim releases his hair, and there's the faintest hint of a shiver running down his spine at the relief. it's gone by the time Dohalim's forehead comes to rest against his shoulders, a different sort of weight keeping him in place. it feels better, at least... but for how long?]

... Because, as I said, I wish to put my trust in you. To lend you what stability I have, based upon the action I've observed.

Because, contrary to your belief, this is not something you deserve. One's history does not define what one must become... one's hardships are not innately unconscionable. That is what I believe, after all this time.

[what will he endure? what must he endure? it doesn't really matter. this isn't his first such contract, and it's one he knows will end in heartache. still...]

It may be selfish, but I want to see you continue to grow. To remember you, even if there is no escape from this path.

[because he doesn't know if there is one, but... he won't forget. he's never forgotten any of them. it's sentimental, but perhaps he's allowed that, after so many years.]

[there's a tremble that starts at Dohalim's fingertips that make its way throughout his body, like a rolling quake that soon takes over. he tries to distract himself from it by casting a small healing arte to alleviate the pain he'd caused Zhongli, before unthreading his fingers from his hair completely. he's caused pain again... and the worst part of it is that he wanted to do it. he wanted to see the other in pain, to make him feel it. it nearly makes him sick just thinking about it.

for Zhongli to want to see his growth... just how how much will he be able to see before this... corruption ultimately takes over? how much time does he have left? to hear the truth from him, that this is a fate he won't be able to escape from... that tremble grows. uncontrollable as it ripples through him. he remembers what had transpired here, what he had done and what he tried to do--

there's a sharp gasp as he pushes himself up and away from Zhongli, before falling to his knees behind him. hands come up to slide into his hair, tugging at still damp tresses of red. he can feel his breathing getting heavier as everything that had happened in the last few hours comes crashing into him; the deaths he'd found out about, the deaths he'd caused, what he'd found out about himself, and what he's tried to do to Zhongli. a few hours, and his entire life has come undone, shattered as the pieces lay at his feet.

he doesn't lose himself again. no, this is more punishing. perhaps it's what he deserves to endure. he can feel that corruption stir in him, delicately holding onto that sorrow, cradling it and feeding into it. but no... no, he can't lose himself in it again...]

[His pain is so minor as to be practically nonexistent, and he doesn't fear it - rather the opposite, truthfully. The healing arte glosses over that, and he's released to the measure of his own thoughts. There's a brief wonder of which of Them the young man is more like... it's a discarded thought a few heartbeats later. It doesn't matter. He'll figure it out.

He doesn't hesitate when Dohalim moves, especially when he can hear the man falling to his knees, the shuffle of fabric. And he does not accept any protest in setting himself on the floor and pulling Dohalim to his chest.]

Don't withdraw. [It's a quiet murmur, not sharp in the least. As he speaks, a hand rises to gently coax hands away from dampened hair, to be replaced with the gentle stroke of his own.] breathe slowly, and take your time. This is not easy, but you are not alone in enduring it. This I swear. I will be here as long as you wish me to.

[There's a resounding gravity to that statement, made without even the faintest tinge of obligation.]

[there is that protest as soon as Dohalim feels those arms around him, pulling him close. it's a weak attempt as he tries to pull himself away, but the warmth is too inviting that he gives in soon after. he much prefers this to the cold depths of his mind and the corruption that sinks its claws into him. at least the storm has calmed to those incoherent whispers from before. a constant reminder, it seems, that this will not go away. that this is part of him now, a looming threat that it will one day take over him, and that there isn't anything anyone can do to purify it.

it's terrifying to think about, the fact that he'll lose himself to this. what's the point on even trying to live a life that will soon no longer be his to live? Zhongli has given his reasons for wanting to help, for wanting to keep him alive, but he is undeserving of that effort. why would the god want to spend his time and energy on someone who is beyond saving? Zhongli even admitted it to himself; if this is the path he's fated to walk down on, then why...

and yet, he has contracted himself to help Dohalim, to ease what this burden is, in any way he can. as much as he's protested this, as much as he's tried to push back, as much as he wanted to hurt him, Zhongli is still here, promising to stay, with no hint of obligation to upkeep the contract in his voice.

as his hands are nudged away, Dohalim instead wraps his arms around the other, hands clinging to his back, as he tries to calm his breathing. it's another task he's having trouble with, panic finally setting in, but he tries. he tries so hard, not just for himself, but for Zhongli as well]

I... I'm afraid. I fear... I fear for what comes, and what lurks in the deep...

[Zhongli strokes Dohalim's hair as the young man tries to calm himself, tries to see past the panic and terror of the inevitable. It's hard to know what to do, when he's always been so... aware of his own limits, aware that one day, even he will begin to forget.

Arms wrap around his back and he doesn't even flinch, his other arm sliding around the man's waist to provide him more warmth, more gentle stability.]

It's natural to fear. To be angry and to lash out. You grieve, for yourself and for others, and that... that is why I am here. But what comes... what comes may take all your life to truly manifest. [His eyes close as he considers his words, unsure which ones may bring any comfort to begin with. Perhaps, if he could introduce Dohalim to one of those few remaining friends... but then, he's always been gloomy and overly dedicated. Perhaps not.] This journey is far from over, and that, I think, is a good thing.

Let yourself grieve for now, if you can. But... keep in mind too that I am only one elemental deity. I know much, but I do not know everything.

I can hardly say where the answer might be, but... if you should wish to look for a cure for this, I will support you in any way I can.

[let himself grieve... is he truly allowed to do so? is he allowed to grieve for the people he'd slain, is he allowed to grieve for his own life, and how little control he now has over it? is he allowed any of this? he isn't sure. but Dohalim can't stop the hot prickling in his eyes as they start to water. he tries to hold back those tears, telling himself that it's unbecoming to show such emotion. but then again... he's already fallen apart, hasn't he? he's shown emotion that he should not have, he let them get out of control because of his tarnished soul.

he lets out a shuddering breath, face buried in the crook of Zhongli's neck, as the first few tears slip from his eyes. he should be ashamed of himself, to be so emotional in front of a god. in fact, he is. he's ashamed of being so afraid, he's ashamed of showing emotions such as this in front of another, he's ashamed of what he nearly did to Zhongli. his heart hammers in his chest, as a heaviness rests on his shoulders, bearing down on him. it's an exhausting feeling, and he supposes he'd always felt like that. but with everything coming to terms, he'd just become all the more aware of it.

however, as Zhongli continues to speak, Dohalim raises his head, looking at him through his hair, vision blurry from the tears]

Do... Do you think there is a cure? Something to alleviate this?

[the exhaustion is mirrored in his voice; he doesn't want to sound hopeful. he doesn't want to get his hopes up in the event that there is no cure...]

[Zhongli is patient, content to wait as long as Dohalim needs. the more he sees, the more he suspects that Rena is no more kind to its people than it is to the Dahnans in some ways. it's unfortunate, but given their general preferences and the eternal harvesting of Dahna's astral energy...

as Dohalim raises his head, Zhongli brushes away a few tears, offering a small smile.]

If I'm honest, I have no idea. It must be remembered that Dahna is only one world, and I had no need to turn my sights to anything past my own abilities or space. We would have to research it from the start, and I suspect it will be... difficult at best. Then again, that difficulty is often more satisfying.

[as if this wasn't difficult already. but then again, Dohalim also knows that this won't be easy, either. to live... to not seek out ways to cut his life short, that's already a task with a high degree of difficulty. it always has been. but this time... Zhongli said he would stay by him the entire way through, until the terms of their contract are met. perhaps that's the difference now. however, if Zhongli were to leave...

that, for some reason, is a thought that Dohalim does not want to entertain. while the god had never been in his inner circle previously, he had grown quite attached to him. perhaps it was his intellect, or his knowledge for the realm's terrain (now he understands how he has so much knowledge of it), or even the fact that Zhongli can hold up a conversation that most would get bored of. he'd grown to... like Zhongli.

which only makes him feel even more guilty about putting him through this.

sighing softly, and nodding, Dohalim slowly untangles himself from the other's hold, before standing. he can feel that exhaustion in his very bones, and while he's usually pretty spry, even when he's stressed out, this time, he can almost swear that his joints are creaking. luckily, it's only a step or two to his bed; he unceremoniously flops on top of it before bringing his knees to his chest and curling up into a ball. he doesn't even bother pulling his duvet to crawl underneath it. he's silent for a moment, before he addresses Zhongli again, voice soft]

...Will you stay with me? Until the very end, no matter what the outcome is?

[Zhongli remains for a moment, letting Dohalim get comfortable before he stands up to follow, though he just settles on the edge nearby, for now. the question, and its inevitable origin of worry, are hardly a surprise... and he smiles faintly before he speaks again.]

Of course. That would be true, if you didn't dismiss me wholesale, even without our contract. [a hand comes to rest on one of Dohalim's shoulder, light and unobtrusive.] For now, do you need anything? I will fetch some water for you, you'll likely need that later.

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