[Diluc knows full well that the majority, if not the entirety, of the blame for what's happened to him falls at the Doctor's feet. But Tartaglia is guilty by association, and also the one standing next to him right now.
He watches the exchange, conflicted emotions written across his face as he's unable to keep up his usual veneer of impassivity. This is intensely personal, details about the Harbinger's personal life and motivations that he's not meant to know. Tartaglia has a name, a family, a history filled with regrets and trauma. He was a child in the Abyss, if Diluc understands correctly. As someone who has made a sworn enemy of the Abyss Order, he can only imagine what that experience had been like.
Yet here he is, facing this younger, terrified version of himself head-on with both determination and compassion. It puts Diluc to shame, if he has to be honest.
As such, he doesn't even bother sneering or pushing back on what Tartaglia has to say. He doesn't have the heart for it.]
Right.
[He takes the canvas and steps forward, turning his attention to the figure of his father.]
The golden child you raised died alongside you. Your death, the betrayal by the Knights, Kaeya... it was too much. I shattered. And I know the way I've put myself back together won't meet your complete approval.
"Of course it doesn't--"
[Diluc continues speaking, undeterred. Giving voice to what this place has been needling at all night is strangely powerful, allowing him to regain control of himself and his emotions. It's cathartic, not unlike how he felt talking to Thoma and Ori after his near-noctaere experience months ago.]
Not a day goes by where I don't wish that I had been able to do something differently. That I had been strong enough to fight the drake back and save you from having to step in. I miss what my life was back then, when things were happy and seemingly simple. But there's no sense in dwelling on what-ifs and hypotheticals. The past is what it is. All I can do is move forward.
"You don't truly believe that."
You're right. But I have no choice but to accept it.
[He holds out a hand.]
My dreaming days are over, Father. I've dedicated myself to burning in the darkness, to handling and fighting off the unseen threats to Mondstadt so that no one else has to suffer like this. It's not what either of us wanted, but it's the best I'm able to do. It's the only thing I'm able to do.
[The shade looks down at the offered hand and takes it. When he speaks, his voice is gentler, kinder--like a father consoling his son rather than admonishing him.]
"It's enough."
[Diluc doesn't say anything in response. Instead, he closes his eyes and does as Tartaglia--as Ajax had, focusing on pulling his father back into the canvas. The shade dissolves in floating bits of light before dissipating entirely, leaving the two men alone once more.
He sets the canvas back into place, and the door they entered the room through opens. Instead of leading back into the house, it seems to lead out into the open air.]
no subject
He watches the exchange, conflicted emotions written across his face as he's unable to keep up his usual veneer of impassivity. This is intensely personal, details about the Harbinger's personal life and motivations that he's not meant to know. Tartaglia has a name, a family, a history filled with regrets and trauma. He was a child in the Abyss, if Diluc understands correctly. As someone who has made a sworn enemy of the Abyss Order, he can only imagine what that experience had been like.
Yet here he is, facing this younger, terrified version of himself head-on with both determination and compassion. It puts Diluc to shame, if he has to be honest.
As such, he doesn't even bother sneering or pushing back on what Tartaglia has to say. He doesn't have the heart for it.]
Right.
[He takes the canvas and steps forward, turning his attention to the figure of his father.]
The golden child you raised died alongside you. Your death, the betrayal by the Knights, Kaeya... it was too much. I shattered. And I know the way I've put myself back together won't meet your complete approval.
"Of course it doesn't--"
[Diluc continues speaking, undeterred. Giving voice to what this place has been needling at all night is strangely powerful, allowing him to regain control of himself and his emotions. It's cathartic, not unlike how he felt talking to Thoma and Ori after his near-noctaere experience months ago.]
Not a day goes by where I don't wish that I had been able to do something differently. That I had been strong enough to fight the drake back and save you from having to step in. I miss what my life was back then, when things were happy and seemingly simple. But there's no sense in dwelling on what-ifs and hypotheticals. The past is what it is. All I can do is move forward.
"You don't truly believe that."
You're right. But I have no choice but to accept it.
[He holds out a hand.]
My dreaming days are over, Father. I've dedicated myself to burning in the darkness, to handling and fighting off the unseen threats to Mondstadt so that no one else has to suffer like this. It's not what either of us wanted, but it's the best I'm able to do. It's the only thing I'm able to do.
[The shade looks down at the offered hand and takes it. When he speaks, his voice is gentler, kinder--like a father consoling his son rather than admonishing him.]
"It's enough."
[Diluc doesn't say anything in response. Instead, he closes his eyes and does as Tartaglia--as Ajax had, focusing on pulling his father back into the canvas. The shade dissolves in floating bits of light before dissipating entirely, leaving the two men alone once more.
He sets the canvas back into place, and the door they entered the room through opens. Instead of leading back into the house, it seems to lead out into the open air.]