[ Water and ice - two of his least favorite elements to deal with.
Zhongli does not remember how he arrived in this place. Normally such a revelation would be alarming, but as days and places and people slip through his fingers with every grain of sand used - well, perhaps he should not be surprise he wandered here upon the comforting melody of a practiced songstress. What is more alarming is that closing thud more felt than heard as all the exits are sealed. That and a familiar presence that Zhongli doesn't even have turn to see who has been locked in here with him.
(He really hopes he didn't call for Childe's help while in his addled state and sealed him to a similar fate of whatever this is. Even if he knows that Childe is probably eager to trade blows with such a powerful being.)
When Zhongli finally comes to his senses, his first priority is to properly size up their host. Her visage scratches an itch in his brain - that of a book found in the library of his current companion. Ah, but what could be used here when the critic had more negative things to say than good. Perhaps playing to her pride was the best choice. So in between one verse and the next, he calls out: ]
You are the famous singer Siren, are you not?
For what reason have you been locked inside this house of treasures, voice and song unable to reach your adoring fans?
[ It is a hastily put together diplomatic approach, all things considered. One he would have been embarrassed of back home, honestly. But thinking on his feet was never a forte of Zhongli's. So instead he must rely on tossing a few ideas at the wall and see what sticks.
(Or see if Childe's charm or blade was better suited for the task.)
As he speaks, Zhongli clutches his own sand hourglass in his fist, hoping the thick gloves he is wearing will hide its activation even as the shard in the siren's embrace begins to glow a soft blue. The edges of the room start to shimmer around them like a mirage melting in the sun, perhaps too late for Zhongli to do anything before the next note rings out but perhaps Tartaglia can--- ]
Childe and Zhongli
Zhongli does not remember how he arrived in this place. Normally such a revelation would be alarming, but as days and places and people slip through his fingers with every grain of sand used - well, perhaps he should not be surprise he wandered here upon the comforting melody of a practiced songstress. What is more alarming is that closing thud more felt than heard as all the exits are sealed. That and a familiar presence that Zhongli doesn't even have turn to see who has been locked in here with him.
(He really hopes he didn't call for Childe's help while in his addled state and sealed him to a similar fate of whatever this is. Even if he knows that Childe is probably eager to trade blows with such a powerful being.)
When Zhongli finally comes to his senses, his first priority is to properly size up their host. Her visage scratches an itch in his brain - that of a book found in the library of his current companion. Ah, but what could be used here when the critic had more negative things to say than good. Perhaps playing to her pride was the best choice. So in between one verse and the next, he calls out: ]
You are the famous singer Siren, are you not?
For what reason have you been locked inside this house of treasures, voice and song unable to reach your adoring fans?
[ It is a hastily put together diplomatic approach, all things considered. One he would have been embarrassed of back home, honestly. But thinking on his feet was never a forte of Zhongli's. So instead he must rely on tossing a few ideas at the wall and see what sticks.
(Or see if Childe's charm or blade was better suited for the task.)
As he speaks, Zhongli clutches his own sand hourglass in his fist, hoping the thick gloves he is wearing will hide its activation even as the shard in the siren's embrace begins to glow a soft blue. The edges of the room start to shimmer around them like a mirage melting in the sun, perhaps too late for Zhongli to do anything before the next note rings out but perhaps Tartaglia can--- ]