primos | from @bakerstreet

from @bakerstreet

meteorder

I've gotten a lot better with my drinks, thank you kindly! I think sticking to one type helps keep my pranking fingers at bay. Jeez, I'm actually pretty long overdue for a good pranking... maybe Master Diluc ... maybe Miss Lisa...

Gah! Now you have me thinking of pranks, stop that.

[ He's trying to be good! Although, Zhongli may find it more bothersome to think back on spilled drinks, isn't that just life? A bunch of spilled drinks? They had a good laugh, even if Venti ran for his life in the process of it.

Even now... he thinks of it from time to time. ]

My timing is as it needs to be. I'll arrive promptly at the outskirts of Mondstadt's east gate and give you the best tour. The history, the gossip, and the best company you can expect. Just... let's avoid the church, eh? The sisters have been a bit agitated lately.

[ Funny enough, Venti's already taking down notes in a small leather notebook – all key points of his city and the people he'd introduce Zhongli to. Little stars and hearts around important bullet items line the paper, but... he stops between messages to soak it in. It's funny how the tables have turned...

Morax is not dead. That news brought him such joy, just as Venti's awakening must have done the same to the geo archon. The bard can't help but smile a bit wider. ]

There's just a few rules you have to follow. Ready to hear them?

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[ Venti is rarely entrusted with anything these days. A reputation of an Archon means little to the wisp playing his role as 'bard' to heart. He can't simply get away with much – even since he learned his lessons from the witty sisters who refuse his claim as Barbatos. He tries, in his mischief, to provide a story worth telling. Their alibi relied on it.

With the letter taken and Zhongli beginning to discuss and rant. Venti's eyes glaze over, his patience tested but truthfully... there's something trusting about the Geo's words. Succulent and true, with no ferocious bite akin to Morax – it was different in a way.

However, Venti slumps forward at the notion for a drink. Way to call him a whore!?!

His loafer slams down to Zhongli's foot in rebellion, laughing and trying to cover his own little joke. ]

The jokesters in Liyue, I tell you...! Ms. Lisa asked me, specifically, for I know the stories and rhymes lost in time. My bardly knowledge is vast and my keen eye so surpassed...

[ Yes, he's rhyming. Charm earns him a performance where both part to the front entrance reluctantly. ]

And our neighbors must be able to learn as much as their knowledge yearns. This quest of wisdom and rites starts here and Ms. Lisa is too terribly overworked and a bit cranky, I have been tasked to lessen her burden.

[ A glance to Zhongli, nervously with a small smirk.

...Are they let in? :/ ]

[ as if he were a statue, Zhongli stands admirably with a stony posture as Venti slams down on his foot as if he they were have a misstep amid a dance. it makes him look official (more official than he actually is, but about as official as he likes to believe he may be).

he clears his throat. ]

Unless you'd like to take it up with her, then by all means we will wait for you to do so. Of course, we have the afternoon to our leisure, and she may well not.

[ Zhongli does not know this Ms. Lisa, but from the way Venti is mischievously dropping hints, he doubts that these two would wish to deal with her at her crankiest. he sees the two Knights glance between each other and then Wood cast a glance that says do you want to test this? and of course, Wryatt does not.

so, they let them pass, all with Zhongli striding forward like the belongs there. ]

[ Such is any story: there must be a threat. As utterly beautiful Lisa is, she is quite scary. The hair on the back of Venti's neck raises as if electro already fills the air. The pathway was revealed and the door cracked open. Zhongli takes lead and Venti scrambles with a tilt of his cap to follow.

Ask no questions, keep your eyes straight. ]

Since when were you a gambler?! I think you like playing pretend just as much as I do, ehehe.

[ The entranceway was silent and Venti takes lead – nudging the man as he passes with his elbow. The library calls their name behind large, sturdy doors. Perhaps, in a way, the most guarded in the entire building. The hinges cry as Venti pushes the door open and the empty, expanse of tomes and books were as far as the eye can see. ]

Ah... I do love the smell of history and stories.

I know when a hand is in my favor.

[ there was a lot he gambled his little stunt on when he faked his own death. perhaps he's learned over the decades in Barbatos' absence that there's a place for trickery. or maybe seeing Barbatos again has stroked that mischievous side of his.

he steps into a little bit of history when he's in Mondstadt's famed library, his shoes clicking against the tiles as he sways past Venti and the short shelves that line the interior of the top floor. with a long stride he slips his hands behind his back and begins to pace the outside of the walls, looking very much like he belongs in a place like this, Liyue or Mondstadt.

the room weaves into a thought-out layout of mazes of books, sometimes ending in a dead end with a chair and table, other times leading to another maze of books.

for the moment, Zhongli is quiet. ]

Uh huh. Suuuuure. Go, enjoy yourself like some child in a candy store.

[ Truthfully, there were only a few books Venti would suggest now to Zhongli. Not ones of history, of Mondstadt's rebellion, or the old fairy tales mothers tell their children before bed. Perhaps they were books of poems or songs that he created, collected by a ghost writer. Venti, of course, was a little arrogant like that.

However, as there is silence... so silence remains. Venti doesn't bother him for some time. A soft thud of a book being pulled from its tightly-fit shelf or a squeak of his shoes, sure, but he lets Zhongli roam.

It feels lonely already, but this was for him. Venti allows these moments of peace for a small bit.

But, of course, mischief does return. As Zhongli passes by a row of shelves in the middle of the room, a soft pssst was visible and a book rumbles, as if begging to be pulled out of the slot it was tucked away into.

Does Zhongli go along with this? ]

[ the little bard may be arrogant, but Zhongli has always enjoyed Venti's poetry and songs. now that he's become more involved in the arts and writings of Liyue, he appreciates Venti's talents even more.

but he does have to make Venti work for the appreciation.

when the book tilts out toward him he almost walks past it as if he were on a separate mission. however, he stops at the last moment, taking a long step backward in stride to examine the spine of the exposed book. he grabs it past the spine (he's done this before), examines the title then with a long, gloved finger, pushes it back in.

despite the semi-cheeky little look of victory on his face, he does linger near where the book presented itself to him, curious to see if it does so again. ]

[ With the book pushed back in, it's immediately sent flying forward – shooting across to the opposite row. There could be a hundred reasons for why a book would move on its own. It could be haunted! There could be a precise librarian moving a misplaced book. But, no. An ex-Archon peers through the opening left behind on the other side.

Pouting like an absolute child with brows furrowed down.

If Zhongli was to look.

If he doesn't, certainly, something else happens... ]

[ vroom.

there it goes, buzzing past his hips and causing the fake Vision to jingle at his rear. with slight pivot of his heels and a few steps of his long legs, he goes to gather the book carefully.

Venti gets humored, and Zhongli, with book in hand, leans down just slightly, bending at his hip, to peer a golden eye through the empty space where the book at once been. ]

[ By the time his tall form doubles down and his features were visible on the other side, he'd feel nothing but a rough gust of air blow in his face. Not enough force to push him back or such, just tussle his hair.

When he looks, Venti is peering on the other side with the faint glow of cyan braids lighting his face. ]

Find anything to take home to Liyue?

[ somehow, Zhongli retains his dignity while the bookshelf farts in his face. he raises and his hair falls back into place, brushing against his cheeks as he sighs and looks over the cover of the book that all but forced itself into his hand. ]

Rather, something has found me. [ with one arm crossed over the other, he lifts the book with his wrist, giving Venti a good view of its cover. ] Does this look familiar to you?

[ somehow – somehow – he doubts it. ]

[ It wasn't a fart, more like a raspberry. Chill.

Still peeking through, Venti has to squint and narrow his gaze more. It certainly... seems familiar but – ]

Ummmm? Enlighten me, dear friend. I – aha, dozed off after a few good glasses many times in my pillaging of Ms. Lisa's library...

[ Most of all, knowing that Zhongli did find something useful here felt earned. As if Venti understood him a little bit more. ]

[ raspberries are farts of the mouth.

it's fine – is it odd to say that he's a bit used to it? that he possibly walked right into it? given that Venti has a way of throwing him, he's become accustomed to a few of Venti's more annoying habits (he may have even grown enough to find them charming, even though he'd never, ever, admit it). ]

Biography of Gunnhildr – was the breeze not aiming for this, specifically?

[ that's somewhat amusing, and there's a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips as he spreads the pages in a flurry of settling paper to see where it may land. ]

[ Yes. Wear down, old stone. Let him endear himself to you in all his bullshit childish ways. ]

It... was not, truthfully. Perhaps fate brings us here in this moment. Isn't that a nice thought? [ And still, peeking through, Venti is still letting this dumb shelf divide them. ] Is this what type of insight would suit an old man like you well? History from a different perspective... enlightening as if it had just happened.

[ there's a breath that sounds like a puff of a laugh before he speaks. ]

I've never known you to be a fan.

[ except when he can use the term fate poetically, like he is here. well, at least he seems a little taken with it. ]

May the gentle breeze of Barbatos carry words of enlightenment and deliver them into the gaze of my readers.

[ bright eyes remain on the pages and, for a moment, glide over to Venti as there's some amusement in those words. ]

Barbatos was not, so they say, but what is a bard to change such strong winds?

[ Fate was an excellent subject to bring into stories. It's subjective, it's fearful, it's inspiring – a big conundrum that varies from person to person. It is why so many authors use fate as an antagonist... everyone can feel a pull of something with fate. Finally, Venti abandons the shelf that divides them and makes his way around. ]

Oh, yes, yes! I know this one as if it is so fresh! [ Venti clasps his hands together, a stuffy old voice mimicking the old scholars that studied lineage in the birth of New Mondstadt. They truthfully had quoted this line enough. ] And may the wind of freedom forever prevail in Mondstadt.

What is a bard to do but change such strong winds? These passages seem to think very highly of you.

[ Zhongli says it in a voice that hints if only they knew the truth. of course, he thought highly of Barbatos too, it just came with the territory for knowing someone else for several thousand years. ]

I'm exceedingly surprised that you're familiar with it.

[ does Venti read. he moves on, regardless: ]

Gunnhildr is a long family name held by your Acting Grand Master.

Aha! So you battle with words as well as me now. [ It was nice – for so long he has to downplay things. Sure, a drunken bard so quick to claim he was Barbatos when times were dire is one thing but... did anyone really believe his long tales? Were they inspired as they were so long ago in his other form? ] They do, but I believe I prefer the books that talk about the people. If I wanted to toot my own horn, I'd cast aside the Lyre, hm?

[ You know.

Toot toot with a horn.

Venti reads, okay. Leave him alone. ]

And she is living up to it marvelously. Unfortunately... families and their lineage cast a terrible burden on my people. There are a few looked down upon for being born into the wrong family, no matter how much good they do in this world.

[ Somberly, Venti drags his thumb to the spine of another book – Dawn Winery Market Report XXXX. He was too terribly sensitive over mortals, even now. ]

[ very clever, Venti. ]

Perhaps – there are those say that when people are born into this world, that they do so without weight. That's not exactly true, is it?

[ with an easy roll of his wrist, he shuts the book in his hands completely, then returns it to its place on the shelf with a methodical motion of his fingers. ]

No one exists without burden; that is the reality of fate. There are some things that cannot be changed, only endured, but that does not negate the good done in this world. Recognition is not a measurement of integrity – indeed, it's the defiance of cruelty which allows people to step closer to freedom.

[ he is still sensitive about mortals, but it's been long enough that Zhongli recognizes it. perhaps he was never good at reading the room, but the shift in Venti's moods became more noticeable, and over time, he began to realize what he needed.

Zhongli puts a gloved hand on top of Venti's hat as an offer of contact. ]

In times of suffering, they care for one other, just as we care for them, and that is the gift you've given them.

That's ...

[ His words don't dare interrupt Zhongli's. He listens with the respect and intent deserving of someone so... verbose. Wise, in his own dumb way. It was as if he lived through the fall of Old Mondstadt.

It was as if he saw first-hand saw freedom be achieved in his lands. There's... something different about the way Zhongli speaks now. It was less fueled by necessity and instead a genuine skill of reading him. (He'll complain about his aura of mystery lost, he knows it.)

When Zhongli touches him, he nearly tilts into it like a damn cat. Starved for genuine emotions, truth be told. He refrains and instead looks up with a genuine, albeit little goofy, grin. ]

Then... I'm glad the gift exceeds a new sword or a fine bottle of wine. [ He'd never claim it as his own – it was the nameless bard's sacrifice, his people's will to build from rubble of what once was. ] I suppose the only thing we can do is ensure our own burdens don't weigh us down, huh? That's what the mortals have figured out... far faster than us.

[ perhaps he's gotten better at it, or merely gotten old. stones become softer when they're weather, worn away by sand and ocean and wind.

Zhongli's hand lingers over Venti's hat, settled there for the moment. ]

Those little people are as small and fragile as dust. Because they are so small, they know not when they will lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they are afraid. Because they are afraid, they try so hard to become more intelligent.

[ it sounds like he's somewhere else for the moment before he returns again. ]

They do not have the luxury nor burden to learn any more slowly. Perhaps we should take that to heart for ourselves, Barbatos. We will be brought down by our own weight eventually, as observers of our own histories.

[ but it's already begun, hasn't it? he knew it the moment Tartaglia brought the traveler in for dinner in Liyue Harbor to meet him.

at that moment, the gears began turning faster. ]

[ They were close. Perhaps closer than they had been in sometime.

Not just in a physical sense, but in a way that their thoughts and beliefs were so closely aligned. Venti feels an undeniable thump in his chest, harder than a perfect heartbeat – it was more rapid, more strained.

He wants to part his lips and say something in response to the eloquence of Zhongli's words but... no. The way his eyes soften, pool over with a thin veil of remembrance. Venti has seen it before.

Old widows missing their loved ones, parents who never see their children anymore... and he thinks he looks like this when he thinks of the nameless bard.

Venti can put two and two together. ]

Everything that is designed to begin, must be designed to end. 'Tis how stories work, don't they? Nothing crueler or worse than an unfinished story.

[ With gnosis gone, what separates an archon from the very lands he was meant to protect? His hand goes up, holding onto Zhongli's wrist tightly. Ventis thumbs runs against the bone softly, reassuring. ]

You are right, however. Doesn't mean we can't enjoy the ride, huh?

[ as proud Morax, militant Geo god, Archon of Liyue, he never thought that in the end, it would be him and Barbatos, of all people, standing hand in hand at the end of the world. Venti's small fingers encompass his wrist, and his fingers curl in his grasp, like a gift to prove he's not a stone statue.

the two of them had lost a lot: soldiers, families, and lovers. perhaps in all of Zhongli's hopes, he wanted to ensure that the bits and pieces of Liyue that he knew remained as memories in a tapestry of history. it didn't matter if it was in mythology or celebration, or in small things, like keeping Xiao warm. ]

May it be those memories that live on.

[ in all of his loneliness, he found himself here.

the gloved hand moves from his hand and to his shoulder, offering Venti the invitation to step closer. ]

[ There was something bittersweet about it. Did Liyue and Mondstadt truly figure it out? To work together in such a way that their people would continue on without them? It brings warmth to Venti's heart, but Zhongli's presence is what brings it to his features. Rushed red, eyes tremble just at the sight of the man in such a way.

As if a haze had been cast in the old, lonely library... he feels something else stir. He can't share this moment with anyone else. Mortals wouldn't hold the weight of history, his Winds wouldn't know what it was like to have these curiosities (save, well, Vennessa but >bird).

Zhongli walked close to his own path.

Close, yes, that was quite the word for it.

He wants to question the motion when Zhongli moves his grasp to his shoulder, his form tense but he isn't quite sure what to expect. Yet, the invitation isn't denied.

He'd never deny it, he thinks.

The scuff of his shoes squeaks against the floor as he stumbles closer with the stumble of his heart. Impossible to react without his face torn up with embarrassment, he tilts his gaze down – all waiting for Zhongli. ]

[ perhaps it was appropriate, to be in a place surrounded by dusty memories scrawled over parchment. catalogs of humans in everything from numbers and figures to grand ideas of mythology. they've come so far in the last few thousand years – the era of gods and monsters finally coming to an end.

Zhongli retired out of necessity, understanding that if he didn't, that what came after him may be worse. to protect Liyue from both dissonant gods of malicious temper and Celestia herself, he handed over his gnosis. the Geo Archon still lived, but not as the pillar of Liyue any longer. it had taken some time to get used to his post, and will take time to get further used to it still: Zhongli is a creature of steady movement and graceful change, as stone does not embody the chaos of many other elements. still, rock becomes cracked and shattered, presses together into fine gemstones, but still remains.

gold eyes look down and he catches a glimpse of the pink in Venti's cheeks. perhaps that was too bold? or, perhaps, the want for closeness was not mutual? ]

Perhaps I've misjudged.

[ and this is not a date.

at the shoulder of Venti's cape, Zhongli's fingers loosen and fall back to his side, but he still seems to enjoy the closeness. ]

[ The collected data and endless stories were beautifully represented. Each one bound, some worn more than others... to be cherished for any soul who dares hunt for something to connect to. Lisa, he suspects, is fond of them for the possibilities... and he has to agree.

Venti is in a delicate place. He wants to come and go. He wants to exist where Zhongli's eyes are on him as well as he has the power to command them his way. That is where the conflict lies. The freedom of choice was so strong that it curls his stomach into a tight knot... for those possibilities can spiral.

He's met with a soft sentence, the kind that makes his gaze snap up.

Was it a confirmation or a conflict? ]

Misjudged? [ He wants to prod and inquire further but the moment Zhongli's hand pulls back – the dial turns and the strike echoes with the chime of a bell hitting an hour's welcome.

Venti crashes forward with his hand latched roughly to Zhongli's jacket at his hip. The bard's face presses stubbornly into the man's chest and his grumbles were muffled for a time being. There's no telling what scolding Venti was giving him, but it's clear what the intent was.

They had played judge, jury, and executioner for many things in life ... there was simply no more room but to simply be.

One hand against the middle of Zhongli's back and the other still tightly clenched to his jacket... each chime from the clock sounds like centuries.

Venti's terrified that once the final one rings, he'll awaken with nothing left. ]

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me having to think hard on this because you punched me in the feels

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