(Ajax was fourteen when he slit his first throat to put bread on the family table. One might have pitied the boy if not for the focus and glee he took in the task. And how not even a fortnight had passed before he did it again.)
Zhongli's embarrassment (though not his reactions) go momentarily overlooked, spared further teasing by Ajax as he mulls over the words that Zhongli has offered him. He should smile good-naturedly here, hint that his submission comes with a price, and try to see what lovely shade of red dusts Zhongli's cheeks before he guesses exactly what that price is. That is what Ajax should do. But something deep within in, something lodged in to the very core of his character, balks at even entertaining such an idea. Yielding was a weakness. Surrender — a death sentence. There was no beauty to be found there. Only failure.
"Dangerous," Zhongli had called his methods or perhaps he was referring to Ajax himself. The glove fits snugly on either hand anyway. And oh, if Zhongli only knew just how dangerous he could be. He'd run, of course. Any sane person would. But the thought is just enough for Ajax to slip on a fraction of his Harbinger mask instead on relying on the ever-pushing charisma of a foreign businessman. ]
I'll take any loss graciously if it's a fair fight. In fact, I find such strength quite charming whether it be in chess or anything else. Yourself included, of course.
[ Because Ajax does feel the press of fine leather pressed just below his knee, a warmth that only fans the flames of his competitiveness. If Ajax was not so wrapped up in victory over this chess match (silly silly Ajax who prefers the losing prize and yet—), he might be tempted to see what he might strip from the other, public space be damned. Or actually— with Zhongli supporting his own weight now, that leaves Ajax's hand free to release the other man's ankle and go exploring. Up up up, he trails two fingers like a blacksmith admiring the edge of a blade. Up until he reaches Zhongli's mid-calf. Because he must know— with as old-fashioned as Zhongli is, should he expect to feel pleasant tautness of sock garters? That would make this all the more fun for Ajax anyway. ]
But I'm afraid it's against my nature to yield. Sorry to disappoint.
[ He sing-songs in a tone that show he's not sorry in the slightest. Without hesitation, his hand once again picks up the knight. Ajax looks Zhongli in the eye then, a grin stretched across his face as he ignores the pair of rooks that have outsmarted him. He ignores the queen who can easily outmatch him. And he ignores the sad forgotten bishop behind him who is now in a terrible position left bereft of allies.
The knight charges even farther into Zhongli's territory, landing with a small thunk exactly four spaces away from one of the two most important pieces on the board. ]
Check. Mister Zhongli.
[ It is as much of a bluff as it is bold. The king can move in any direction to remove itself out of harm's way of the knight, and Ajax is in no better position than he was before. In fact, he might even be worse off. But that does present Zhongli with only one of two options— flee. Or face the knight in combat.
After all, it's the vanguard's duty to lead the charge. And in this task (while the Fatui themselves have been outmatched), Tartaglia himself has never failed. ]
no subject
(Ajax was fourteen when he slit his first throat to put bread on the family table. One might have pitied the boy if not for the focus and glee he took in the task. And how not even a fortnight had passed before he did it again.)
Zhongli's embarrassment (though not his reactions) go momentarily overlooked, spared further teasing by Ajax as he mulls over the words that Zhongli has offered him. He should smile good-naturedly here, hint that his submission comes with a price, and try to see what lovely shade of red dusts Zhongli's cheeks before he guesses exactly what that price is. That is what Ajax should do. But something deep within in, something lodged in to the very core of his character, balks at even entertaining such an idea. Yielding was a weakness. Surrender — a death sentence. There was no beauty to be found there. Only failure.
"Dangerous," Zhongli had called his methods or perhaps he was referring to Ajax himself. The glove fits snugly on either hand anyway. And oh, if Zhongli only knew just how dangerous he could be. He'd run, of course. Any sane person would. But the thought is just enough for Ajax to slip on a fraction of his Harbinger mask instead on relying on the ever-pushing charisma of a foreign businessman. ]
I'll take any loss graciously if it's a fair fight. In fact, I find such strength quite charming whether it be in chess or anything else. Yourself included, of course.
[ Because Ajax does feel the press of fine leather pressed just below his knee, a warmth that only fans the flames of his competitiveness. If Ajax was not so wrapped up in victory over this chess match (silly silly Ajax who prefers the losing prize and yet—), he might be tempted to see what he might strip from the other, public space be damned. Or actually— with Zhongli supporting his own weight now, that leaves Ajax's hand free to release the other man's ankle and go exploring. Up up up, he trails two fingers like a blacksmith admiring the edge of a blade. Up until he reaches Zhongli's mid-calf. Because he must know— with as old-fashioned as Zhongli is, should he expect to feel pleasant tautness of sock garters? That would make this all the more fun for Ajax anyway. ]
But I'm afraid it's against my nature to yield. Sorry to disappoint.
[ He sing-songs in a tone that show he's not sorry in the slightest. Without hesitation, his hand once again picks up the knight. Ajax looks Zhongli in the eye then, a grin stretched across his face as he ignores the pair of rooks that have outsmarted him. He ignores the queen who can easily outmatch him. And he ignores the sad forgotten bishop behind him who is now in a terrible position left bereft of allies.
The knight charges even farther into Zhongli's territory, landing with a small thunk exactly four spaces away from one of the two most important pieces on the board. ]
Check. Mister Zhongli.
[ It is as much of a bluff as it is bold. The king can move in any direction to remove itself out of harm's way of the knight, and Ajax is in no better position than he was before. In fact, he might even be worse off. But that does present Zhongli with only one of two options— flee. Or face the knight in combat.
After all, it's the vanguard's duty to lead the charge. And in this task (while the Fatui themselves have been outmatched), Tartaglia himself has never failed. ]
Do you yield?