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Chapter Text

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Now Playing:

Seven Minutes in Heaven by Mindless Self Indulgence

0:18 ─♡───── 2:14

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The sky has long gone dark and the street lights faintly lit up the asphalt streets as you walk up the small mountain to your apartment complex. You put your hand into your bag, the warmth compared to the outside being much more comforting – making the hair on your arm stand up. You take your phone out of your bag, the screen emits a bright light which makes you scrunch your eyes to temporarily avoid it before peeking at the time. It showed 7:36 p.m., not the usual time when you would get off of work – which, by the way, is not that much better, considering it's only one hour earlier – but your manager had asked you to take the night shift due to being understaffed. You couldn't exactly say anything against it since you'd be getting more, desperately needed, money. Sometimes you wonder if your manager is abusing your situation to get more work done for much less. You've been struggling to pay your bills which you wouldn't have to if they'd start paying their staff better – maybe then they also wouldn't be understaffed all the time.

You continue up the mountain, soon arriving at the steep stairs to the complex. Whenever you walk up those, you'd later feel like you had just climbed Mount Everest, but the problem was that, despite complaining about only having one way up, you'd lived in a shitty, broke town where the landlords couldn't care less about their tenants. They'd make great politicians.

After finally managing to climb the stairs which took more out of you than you'd hoped, you made your way inside the run down building. It wasn't grand at all, considering that it was built in around 19 hundred something something. You didn't bother listening to your landlord when he explained its flaws because of the low rent. Looking back at it now, you definitely should've. You had enough on your plate with university already and your job – a shower which breaks every four to five months was not appreciated at all.

You fish your keys out of your bag as you stand in the very cheap looking elevator that probably should've been put out of order years ago next to a groggy old man, putting the more pointy side of your keys in between your index and middle finger as you watch him slowly swing from left to right. A young woman living alone in this part of town was, well, dangerous. And after an absolutely brutal ten hour shift, you did not want to have to fight a man who looks like he's started decomposing in 2019. 

You press the button to floor 9, one below your actual floor just to be sure. The man reeks of booze and vomit, making you gag. You consider getting off the elevator but he stands right next to the door. "Probably not a good idea." You say to yourself in your mind. 

The elevator comes to a halt. "We have reached floor 6." The mechanical voice from the lift says in a distorted tone. Luckily for you, the old codger leaves without saying anything. You let out a sigh of relief, pressing your actual floor when the doors fully closed. Soon after the elevator continues its never changing path upwards, finally stopping at your floor. Without giving it another thought, you burst out of the lift, tripping on the elevated ground and kissing the floor.

"No one saw that!" You awkwardly blurt out while picking up your discarded belongings that fell out of your bag from the dirty stone floor while looking left and right. You scraped your knee a little but that was nothing compared to your shift. When determining that no one had been there to watch you make a fool of yourself, you made your way to your apartment, quickly unlocking the chipped door and locking the other three locks once you're inside. "Better to be safe than sorry." You keep telling yourself, "Who knows what could happen?" 

Your apartment was the definition of shabby. The wallpaper had turned a biscotti yellow due to the previous tenant inside smoking habits, despite it being against the apartment's rules. "Maybe that's why they got kicked out?" You could see your couch from the entrance. It was a gift from your mother for moving out – your childhood sofa where you'd spent most of your time. Even if the leather was peeling, it could probably be sold as an antique – or ancient – decoration. You should add that to your to-do list: 'Sell that ugly couch' but you had no funds to replace it so you decided against it.

You make your way into your bathroom. Some tiles had already fallen off of the wall. Mold was most likely already growing somewhere, but once again – the landlord does not give a shit. That was certainly why there were tiles in the first place – to hide the mold civilization, I mean. "No wonder the previous tenant had so quickly moved out." There were rumors that that hag who lived here was killed by a group of money launderers but you chose not to believe that, simply for your own comfort. After all, why would an old lady borrow such a large sum of money that people were even willing to kill for it? You didn't understand why that rumor was made up in the first place – this place is dirt cheap after all, given that someone like you can afford it.

You considered moving away once but your contract was, well, it wasn't the greatest. You were required to give a four month notice about why you were moving out, if you had found a better place to stay at and where it was located – which was insane – and would have to sign an NDA about the apartment's basement in case you ever went there. You didn't, for your own good. Shady people in a shady neighborhood. Not a good combination, and now a possible murder was added to that equation.

It was a bit too late to debate the choices which led you to this, sadly enough. You just wanted to focus on building your future before you could focus on luxuries like... – You turn on the shower, immediately shrieking as the icy water hits your bare skin – constant hot water. You made yourself a mental note: 'Add that to the list that probably will never happen.' You adapted to the cold water as much as you could, using your shampoo that had been watered down for the last month. What? Shampoo prices have skyrocketed.

After taking your waking-up shower which lasted approximately twelve minutes because you didn't want to force yourself to spend so much time cooling down your body (but saving money in the process) you made your way into your kitchen, not bothering to change into actual clothes and strutting in your apartment around in a half-closed bathrobe. "I'm in the comfort of my own home." You said, even though you did secretly worry about being watched by some invisible ghost sometimes. You reach your kitchen which consisted of an oven, a half-functioning microwave, a fridge and a couple of cupboards. You look into your fridge and are greeted by the sad sight of leftover Macaroni, some veggies and a bit of – hopefully not – expired chicken tenders.

You take out the chicken tenders and just in case – the Macaroni as well. The plastic compartment for the chicken was bloated and the expiration date said 12th of July 2025. You said goodbye to your fresh meal and gasped when you opened your trash can to throw it away. There was a live rat dining in your trash. "At least one of us is eating good tonight." You weren't even surprised anymore and just dumped the chicken inside. The one or two day old Macaroni it is then.

The microwave door opens after a little fight as it was an older model which the landlord left you as a gift when you complained about the little amount of paths leading to the complex. It probably wasn't a gift though. More like a 'You want to complain? Take this and shut up.' kind of thing. Before the old thing could start beeping, and possibly waking up the entire building with its annoying sound, you pull the door open. The warm steam flies into your face and you shield your eyes. It smelled charred. You gulp, begrudgingly taking the still hot plate out of the machine with a towel and placing it onto the table next to the TV.

"Hey Alexa, play Seven Minutes in Heaven by Mindless Self Indulgence." You command as you slump down in front of the sofa, deliberately choosing that position so that you wouldn't fall asleep in an uncomfortable place and wake up with back pain before heading to work the next morning. 

"Now playing Barbie Girl by Aqua" Alexa calls out. You shoot up. "Alexa, Stop!" She doesn't react to your voice and continues echoing the lyric to Barbie Girl. You repeat your sentence, however she doesn't react again. Despite not wanting to move, you force yourself to stand up and plug out Alexa before any of your neighbors could complain about the noise. You huff, clearly annoyed about the shitty voice recognition.

You sink back down, deciding to watch a movie instead while you eat. "How about a horror movie?" You say as you stuff your mouth full with the cheesy noodles but when you bite down, one was hard. "Eaugh, burnt." You said, deciding not to spoil your entire dinner by spitting it out. After five minutes you settled on a movie and pressed play. The movie focuses on a group of kids getting slaughtered by an insane man and possessing robots. "Interesting concept." You thought.

You yawn after watching the movie for a good amount of time and stand up to go and brush your teeth before heading to bed. You turn to the left – only to be met with a wide, certainly not feminine, chest. Your eyes trail upwards, a tall red haired man stares down at you. Suddenly, a female character in the movie let's out a blood curling scream, making you shudder. Almost simultaneously both of you say something but you don't understand his words.

"What the fuck?"

"Кто ты?"

"What the hell are you doing in my home?!" You yell as you grab a pillow to defend yourself. The man takes a step back, and only then do you take a good look at him. He's wearing strange clothing with stars on top which seemed to be mostly gray. A blue artifact – relic? – rests at his hip. Right above, the slightest bit of skin peeks out. You gulp. The thing that caught your eye was the familiar mask resting on his head however. "Tartaglia?" You mumble which caught his attention. 

"Ты меня знаешь? Где я?" He reaches for something next to his hip, looking very shocked when the thing he was searching for wasn't at its righteous place. He took another cautious step back, raising his fists in a defensive stance which made you jump back. "Oh shit." Your mind screams at you.

"H-hold on! I don't want to hurt you!" You stumble over your words as you raise your hands, signalizing him that you don't want any trouble. You hear something shift. His eyes trail downwards, his cheeks clearly reddening. Your eyes follow his, landing on your almost exposed chest – you didn't tie your bathrobe because you were at home. Your hands immediately shove the sides of your bathrobe together like an English teacher would when explaining something to her class and tie them together. He raises his fist to his mouth and makes an audibly cough, the redness on his face fading.

"Извините за подглядывание, мисс." He mumbles while looking away. Was he... apologizing or was he just shy? You press your fingers to your temples. This language barrier was bothering you a lot. "Why – actually no, how are you here? In my home?" You ask, gesturing your hands up and down, "I mean, you're not even... real." It felt weird the moment those words left your lips. How could a Fatui Harbinger just appear in your living room. Wait – in your living room.

It only then dawned on you how embarrassing this situation is. Tartaglia is rich and... you're the total opposite. How disgusting must your home look for him right now? Is he judging you? Maybe that's what he was talking about in that weird language?

"Um... You know, Tartaglia." He perks up when you said his name. "Can you like, I don't know, speak English?" You ask, putting your hands together as if you were praying. Tartaglia must've misunderstood this greatly because he suddenly put his hands together as well and closed his eyes, chanting something. "Слава нашей архонтской королеве." You look around your room slightly concerned. "Yeah, totally, I get that." You had no freaking idea what he just said. "So uh, fancy seeing you here?"

Tartaglia didn't say anything back. The silence stretched on for a little longer until you had gotten a grandiose idea. "One second." You said, pointing a finger at him. Tartaglia, bless his heart, assumed you wanted him to take your hand and planted a kiss on it. This sudden interaction made you jump up in surprise and Tartaglia let go of your hand, assuming he did something wrong. "Прости, прости. Ты в порядке? Разве ты не хотел, чтобы я взял тебя за руку?" You still didn't understand anything, but that was going to change in a moment. 

You picked up your phone and opened google, searching up 'Translator' and handed him the device. Tartaglia surely didn't understand your gesture because he started eyeing the device like it was some sort of abyssal contraption. The brightness turned down and when he touched the screen again the sudden light made him wince. You just stood there expectantly. However, what you didn't expect was that Tartaglia would crush your phone in little under a second. Your jaw fell along with what remained of your phone.

Tartaglia saw the expression on your face. "Ого, я никогда не видела такого выражения лица. Ты, наверное, отчаянно хотела избавиться от этого устройства!" He said with a smile on his face which most certainly didn't match your visage.

"You son of a-" You throw a pillow at him and he catches it swiftly before you start to punch him. "Мисс?! Почему вы вдруг начали со мной драться? Я просто сделал то, о чём вы меня просили!" He grabs your shoulders pushing you down onto the couch with ease. "Let me go you fucker! Do you know how expensive phones are?!" Tartaglia didn't know what you yelled at him just now but he guessed that it wasn't anything nice.

"Почему ты вдруг решил меня ударить? Я, конечно, за драку, но я просто сделал то, что ты хотел." More unknown words. He kept saying weird sentences. "Shut up, seriously." You said, putting your face into your hands. "My life is already hard enough as it is. Is this to mock me? To make me feel worse – to get me to give up?" Your words slur as a tear falls down your face. Ajax seems to notice this and kneels down in front of you. He lifts your head and wipes your tear for you. "Товарищ, если ты скажешь мне, почему ты плачешь, я уверен, что смогу тебе помочь."

You don't answer to his words. "We can't even understand each other. Is this because I spent so much money on the game? A reality check which I didn't ask for?" It was weird breaking down in front of a stranger – or well, game character – who didn't understand you. "Товарищ." He raises his head to look around. "Может быть, вам просто нужно выпить?" He seems to get very confused when he analyses your home. You punch his shoulder when he lets out a scoff. "Ах! Что это было?!" 

You wipe the rest of your tears with the sleeve of your bathrobe, still embarrassed about it. "Wait here." You say and stand up. Tartaglia moves to follow you as you head to your room. Your head whips around and you push him away from your door. "Stay put." You tell him before shutting the door.

You slump against the door, letting out a sigh. Footsteps could be heard from the other side. "I'll have to subtract a new phone from my savings" You mumble into your knees. It doesn't take you long to stand up and change your clothes to something less revealing – normal pajamas which in your case consisted of a blank white, or supposedly white shirt along with shorts. You open your door again, spotting Ajax in your kitchen, staring at the microwave like its a foreign object. Well, for him it probably is.

"Tartaglia." You call out and he turns around to look at you. His eyes wander down to your thighs and you clap your hands. "Eyes up here, the fuck?" Tartaglia walks towards you slowly and you tell him to follow you. He seems to understand and follows you into your room. There, he finds another glowing screen – like your phone but bigger. 

"Может, мне и это уничтожить?" He questions but before he can walk towards your computer you put a hand on his chest and push him away. "Товарищ?" You glare at him while opening google translate and deciding to go with the most obvious two languages: English to Russian. You type out a sentence shortly after you raise your hand and call him over. He complies as if he were some kind of dog. 

'Tartaglia, how are you here? - Тарталья, как ты здесь?' The machine translated it quickly and he seemed intrigued. He pointed at the sentence with his finger before putting his hand on the screen and inching closer. You pull him away from the screen and point at the keyboard. "Well? Your answer?" But he doesn't do anything. He stares at you and then the keyboard twice before tilting his head. 

"Я не понимаю." You rub your temples. "This is going to be a long night."

Chapter Text

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Now Playing:

Real Man by beabadoobee

1:12 ─♡───── 2:41

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Teaching a grown man how to use a keyboard was hard. He typed slow, like a grandma with six kids who never bothered to visit her. Weird analogy, I know. He seemed to be weirdly interested in translating Russian to other languages. French, for example. 

You wondered if introducing him to such technology was a good idea. ‚When he inevitably goes back to Genshin, it‘ll cause a lot of problems.‘

Despite your confliction you decided that you couldn‘t care less. It won‘t be your problem when he‘s gone and you needed some way to communicate with him. You looked through your worn shelves which were swollen due to the water damage from your upstairs neighbor. Why did they place the bathroom right above your bedroom? It has been leaking since you moved here but when you told the tenant they told you to mind your own business.

‚Why are all my neighbors shady or rude?‘

You tried to tell Childe to sleep in the living room but he wanted to explore the web more. ‚Not my problem if he wakes up tired as shit.‘

You woke up late in the morning at eight or nine. You couldn‘t remember because the moment you woke up you saw Childe sitting at your desk, reading some kind of book? You kicked your sheets off and pulled yourself out of the warm comfort of your bed. Tartaglia‘s head turned around sharply when he sensed you – like an owl.  Yes, sensed. Weirdo.

You opened a new tab and typed something into google translate: „Why are you awake?“ 
Tartaglia didn‘t answer, he opened the former tab and pointed at it. It was… a fanfic? You wanted to see what it was about but when you saw the name Ajax you froze. 

How did he find this. Did he google himself? Actually – why was he even reading this? Why was Zhongli mentioned? More important question: Did they have fan fiction in Genshin?

You closed the tab before he could continue reading. „I‘m going to go to the market to get some stuff. You‘ll stay here.“ Childe read the translated message. „I‘ll come with you. It could be dangerous.“ He wrote. Yeah, it could be dangerous. But he doesn’t seem to be armed.

You immediately shook your head. If someone recognized him, it could get really uncomfortable real fast and you want to avoid that – at all costs.

However, when you told Childe this, he didn‘t seem too happy. „I am coming with you.“ He insisted, you didn‘t budge. Ajax stood up, towering over you. Intimidating sure, but you‘ve seen what this neighborhood can do and that was even worse than what he could do. You doubt he had any actual powers here, I mean, magic doesn’t exist on earth. Yeah, he was unusually strong but that was probably because he was Tartaglia and Tartaglia was a harbinger.

Actually, what should you call him? Tartaglia seems too formal and Ajax is too personal. You could ask him. However, he still is very adamant about coming along with you but you think that he might use it to join you. Would he do that? ‚He‘s a harbinger.‘ You tell yourself.

“Fine. You can join me. But… Stay close and don‘t wander off.“ You command him. He reads the text and is absolutely delighted. ‚He‘s like a child. So… Childe it is.‘ 

Childe follows you to the elevator, during times like these, you really wish that him suddenly appearing was just a dream. The lift groans under the weight before descending. The ride down was silent and awkward. You didn‘t say anything because you knew he couldn‘t understand and he didn‘t say anything… because who knows? You can‘t read minds and even if you could, someone like Ajax was hard to understand.

The elevator finally reached the lobby as you stepped out. He seemed to hyper analyze everything – the worn out cement walls, the broken tiles which looked older than time, the receptionist who has seen better days. His relentless staring made the lady at the counter hold up her middle finger. You saw the scene and pulled him along quickly before something could happen. Though when you looked him into his face to see if he was upset, he just seemed… out of it? Surprised if anything.

‘Does he not know what a middle finger means?‘ You shook your head and just pulled him along. He stumbled down the stairs a bit, a few people stared at you but you didn‘t bother. ‚Market. Just quickly go to the market.‘ Childe seemed to admire the scenery, a stark contrast from the usual scenery in Snezhnaya you suppose. You‘ve never seen Snezhnaya before but you could imagine it:

A snowy wasteland, filled with Fatui and brimming with death. 

You walked past the skyscrapers, the way too flashy cars for this place and many homeless people. ‚I‘ll be one of them if I don‘t get my salary this month.‘ You were supposed to get it in a few days but your boss was infamous for being late on payments. I wonder if Childe would be like that in this world?

You soon reach the market. It was quiet since basically everyone was at work. Different kinds of songs played nearby, all of them mixed into a weird tune due to the proximity. You could faintly make out California Girls playing and some other summer songs. ‚They just put on a summer playlist, didn’t they?‘ All the songs sounded way too generic, like they were viral on Social Media two months ago before they were forgotten.

You browse a stall which sold fresh vegetables, or well, they were advertised as fresh but you knew better. Childe looked around, peeking at every stall despite telling him to stay close. ‚Not. My. Problem.‘ You continued to tell yourself. You picked out some fruits as well even if you didn‘t always finish them. Determining how much you needed to buy for two people was surprisingly hard. 

‚Should I take two bags of rice? Maybe I just take one and pick a pack of noodles instead? Does he even like noodles?‘ Your mind was at war, his, not so much. He was staring at a little dog like it owned him money. „Ajax.“ You called him over and he quickly came. „Do you want this,“ You held up the bag of rice and the noodles in your other hand. „Or this.“ You picked up the other bag of rice and put away the noodles.

Childe grabbed the noodles without much thought and examined them. „Noodles it is then.“ You said before taking them out of his hands along with the rice and heading over to the cashier. You loaded the groceries onto the conveyor. Tomatoes and other fruit, some veggies, the rice and noodles of course, meat and some other necessities like a toothbrush for him and some men underwear.

The cashier looked at you weirdly for a second but decided to mind their business. They probably  had the same train of thought as you. ‚Shady people, shady neighborhood.‘ But there wasn‘t anything weird about buying underwear and groceries, no?

You watched as the cashier scanned your items and the price climbed higher. They scanned the rice – $2, the meat – $6. That made you lean backwards awkwardly. You pulled out your wallet. A $20, $10, some pennies and a coupon. You‘d pay with your card if the purchase was over $30.

Childe pulled out a bag and dropped it onto the counter. Both you and the cashier stared at it before they opened it. Gold shined through and their mouth dropped. „Sir? Do you have any dollars? Not, uh, gold? Is this real?“ You quickly grabbed the bag, a coin fell out and rolled on the counter before dropping. 

‚Mora?‘

You quickly picked up the coin and shoved it into the pouch. You handed the cashier the corresponding amount. There goes $28.99.

Childe seemed… surprised? He‘d offered to pay but the person didn‘t accept it. He followed you out the shop, helping you carry the plastic bags. ‚Does she need to save Mora? What kind of papers did she pay that man with?‘

You walked around the market a bit more. „Comrade.“ He called out, you didn‘t stop. ‚Right, they don‘t speak Snezhnayian.‘ He didn‘t call for you again, his steps slowing down as he was considering something. His brows furrowed, his muscles tensed. „How did you know my name?“ He asks, you finally stop and turn around.

“Childe, waie awe yuoo stopinge?“ The stranger says. ‚No answer, incoherent words.‘ He stepped towards you and you continued your path. „Schoold wea shea eef iour gool ish reel? Eef iees, wea koold seal iet.“ More words he didn‘t understand. It made his head hurt, he just continued to follow your steps.

You did consider bringing the Mora to an appraiser to check if it was actual gold but you held yourself back. It wasn‘t yours anyway. Childe would immediately realize that you‘re trying to appraise the gold and possibly sell it. He has connections to the Northern Bank, god dammit.

Your footsteps echoed in the streets, another pair of footsteps followed – heavier, purposeful. You didn‘t have a destination. Maybe you were headed to the park, maybe to your university, maybe… home. Not your run down apartment home, your real home. Where your Yfamily lived.

That thought vanished quickly.

The longer you‘re outside, the higher the chances of recognition are. You peek over your shoulder. His clothes weren‘t exactly… common. Anyone would guess that he was a cosplayer but cosplayers weren‘t exactly seen here everyday. You could see people from over the street staring. Was he handsome, or was it the very thing you dreaded?

You grabbed his hand, pulling him closer to you as you sped up, home it is then.

The walk home was brutal. Childe kept pulling you towards lakes and other useless things. ‚Does Snezhnaya not have lakes? Surely they do, right?‘

He had a sad look in his eyes whenever you passed a kid. You didn’t spare it another glance but his gaze lingered, especially if the kid was a ginger.

You stepped back into the rusty elevator after climbing the stairs. The way up was even more awkward than the way down was. He was still quiet, that didn‘t change. But his demeanor, his stance – his whole personality had a switch up.

He was the first one in your apartment, you followed. He wanted to turn on your computer, didn‘t know how though so he just stared at you. You sighed, headed over to your bedside table and gave him your tablet. You wanted to prepare yourself yesterday but were too worried that he might break it as well.

He took it, gently. That was weird. Out of character.

“Do you have any family?“ He wrote as he followed you into the kitchen. He held up the tablet as you unloaded the groceries. You typed out an answer with your index finger and he hummed.

“I have a brother, his name is Teucer. I also have two other siblings but… Teucer, he‘s just…“ He hesitated to type the next part, deleting it before you could read the translation.

You take the toothbrush out of the bag and place it in front of him.  „What is it?“ He asks.

You type the word ‚toothbrush‘ out. It didn‘t ring a bell. You motioned putting a toothbrush into your mouth and scrubbing your teeth. His cheeks reddened. „Ew?“ You gasped when you realized.

Childe grabbed the toothbrush like it was some sacred object. „You need toothpaste. I‘ll give you some later.“ He didn‘t understand and you waved your hands as if you swatted your sentence away. Childe typed out more things on your tablet. „What were those big moving boxes?“ You thought about what the could mean. Perhaps cars?

“They‘re transportation devices. Think of them as… teleportation waypoints? Just – slower.“ Tartaglia didn‘t move for a bit.

“Why do you not use waypoints here?“ He typed.

A sweat fell down your forehead. His pupils shrunk. ‚Did he know? Did I spill too much?‘ You opened your mouth but closed it again. ‚Change the topic, just change the topic.‘ 

You pulled a book out of the bag, his eyes widened as you put it into his arms. He opened it and drawings of different animals adorned the pages. 

„Кабан.“ He said as he pointed at a boar. You smiled at him and nodded. You tried to repeat what he said but stopped half way. ‚That didn‘t even sound remotely close.‘ A faint blush rested on your cheeks. It was purely out of embarrassment. He flipped through the pages, pointing at different animals. You read out the words for him and he‘d repeat them carefully. 

A while passes. He‘d already gone through the picture book twice. He pointed at the meat you bought. „Как там было слово? Cheeken?“ You correct him. „Chicken.“ He nods. „It‘s pig.“ You say and point at the drawing of a pig. His mouth makes an O before closing the book and grabbing the tablet again.

„Why are you not asking me more questions?“ 

You avert your eyes. „Where are you from?“ You type out, a forced smile on your face. Of course you already knew but it‘d be worse if–

„You already know that.“ Your eyes widened. „Uh, ah. What?“ You stuttered, how did he know? Did he see himself on your Computer when he used it? Does the know that he‘s not real?

„No, I don't.“ You decided to play it safe. It was a trap, wasn‘t it?

Childe read your message and just shrugged. „Снежная.“ The word he said sounded close to Snezhnaya so you assumed that was what he said. You moved your head up slowly „Ahhh. I see.“ 

He looked at you, his gaze intense. It made you feel uneasy. A smirk formed on his mouth. „Кто ты на самом деле? Шпион?“ He stood up. You didn’t move.

„Hungry?“ You ask, tilting your head to the side to appear more friendly.

“Почему я каким-то образом появляюсь в этом жалком месте, перед девушкой, которая так много обо мне знает, и все же ничего мне не говорит? Поэтому я снова спрашиваю тебя: ты шпион?“ The words shot out of him like a cannon. You didn‘t understand a word but a bad feeling manifested in your gut.

“Childe?“ His muscles tensed. He reached for something again, disappointment mixing with confusion when he realizes it wasn’t back. His jaw clenched, your mind was screaming at you to run away when suddenly – there was humming.

It was quiet, barely above a whisper but it was there. A feminine voice. Enchanting. Relaxing.

Pulling you towards something, something dangerous. Your head was spinning. Your window looked pretty for some reason. It was really stuffy in here. Maybe you should open the window. Maybe the outside would be more comfortable. Something pulled you towards the window. You wanted to be free. You should just– wait what?

Alarm bells went off in your head. Who – or what – was that? 

A soft voice came from your living room. Childe turned around, laughter booming in the room suddenly. „Товарищ, вы тоже здесь?“ His laughter became louder as he stood up.

You were scared to peek but you did anyway. 

Long black hair with magenta streaks lay on your couch. A short girl rested on the cushions with her head turned away. She was wearing white ribbons, lots of them. Feathers were on her beautiful white and purplish garment alongside her head. Her face turned towards you, your breath hitched.

A white crossed lace rested over her face, covering her eyes. Unconventional, sure. Cool as fuck none the less.

She stopped singing, not bothering to look at you, she said: „Тарталья, где мы?“ Of course you couldn’t understand. „Не знаю. Я внезапно телепортировался сюда, когда использовал точку назначения.“ The conversation seemed important and you felt left out. Of course you could… you know – use the google translate auto translate feature.

“So did I. Che fastidio.“ Google Translate didn’t catch the last two words that came out of her mouth. ‚She Fasteedio? As in Dio from Jojo‘s Bizarre Adventure? Is Genshin a Jojo‘s reference?‘ 

„How are the others? They must be missing me, no?“ Tartaglia laughed.

“No.“ A scoff left his lips. „So the usual.“

“Who’s that?“ Columbina pointed at you, you laughed awkwardly.

Chapter Text

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Now Playing:

Headlock by Imogen Heap

1:12 ─♡───── 2:41

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Explaining things was never your strong suit. Telling half truths was even worse. You didn't want to call it lying because, technically, parts of it were the truth. So when Columbina asked you through Google Translate how you knew her, you had to retrace you lies.

Where you were? "Somewhere far away from Snezhnaya."

Who you are? "Just your friendly neighbor hood stranger."

Are you a spy? "No, I don't know how you got here – wait what?"

That question alone made you realize that they don't trust you. And that terrified you. 

"Listen, Things like 'spies' are incredibly rare here. That's stuff that only comes up in movies." You explain to them. You try to keep your words short since Google translate has a tendency to mess up longer sentences.

You look over at Columbina who was inspecting the remote. She held it upside down, swinging it, probably trying to figure out how to use it.

"Miss Sandrone would relish in taking this apart, don't you think so, Eleventh?" Her eyes remained closed as she spoke. 

Tartaglia turned towards her. "Что вы сейчас сказали, товарищ?"

Your eyes widened. 'Wait, she just spoke English. She was speaking English.'

"You can speak?" You blurt out. "Sorry, uh. I meant... You can speak my language? How do you even know it?"

Columbina set down the remote gently. Her fingers gracefully returning back to her and intertwining with her arms.

"I've learned it once. Nod Krai is home of many different nations." She stood there, in your living room, arms crossed, explaining how she spoke your language despite never being here before. It felt surreal. "And the language displayed on that device with the bright light is... Similar."

"Does that mean there's a region which speaks English?" You ask her, excitement brimming off of you.

Columbina didn't answer. She sat down onto the couch, her silk dress spreading out, and put her hand onto her chin, her index finger pressing against her cheek.

"Is that what you call it here? Engrish?" She asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

"Some Fontainians speak your so called Engrish. Though it differs quite a bit from your way of speaking."

You didn't correct her incorrect pronunciation, you were too scared that she'd kill you for that.

Actually, would she?

She is the third of the Fatui Harbingers so she surely has a temper to match it, right?

"How did we intertwine our fates with this world?" The girl asked. You blink. That's a fancy way of speaking.

"Давайте прекратим 'исключать меня из разговоров'? Я же ваш коллега!" Tartaglia huffed, you turned to him, not understanding a word. 

"Тарталья, скажи мне, как мы здесь оказались?" Columbina smiles at him. Were they discussing what to do? You could only guess what they were saying.

"Не знаю? Я только что появился в этой комнате." He says - or explains? It sounds like he's explaining something.

"Итак, вы не провели никакого расследования? Idiota." You caught that last word. Idiota. It was Italian for stupid, right? Or Idiot? Idiot sounds closer.

Why was she mixing Russian - you presumed - and Italian? Do the people from Nod Krai speak like that? It must be because of all the different languages there.

"What is your name, Miss, I assume." She asks, turning her head back to you.

Her head was turned at a weird angle. Like how owl can turn their heads 180°. Uncanny.

"You can call me whatever."

"That device you used." She points at your tablet. "It speaks Snezhnaian. Did you create it? I know a woman who would love to meet you if you truly are the creator."

Was she speaking of Sandrone? Also, why did she sound an awfully lot like an Asian mother trying to get you to meet her son?

"This is a tablet, it doesn't have much installed though. Uh, I used Google Translate. And the Snezhnaian you speak of is called Russian in my world." You hope she caught all that.

"Rushian? Interesting." She folded her hands on her lap. 

"This technology... It would be revolutionary in Fontaine." She smiled, her smile not reaching her eyes.

You could tell that she was still wary of you which was kind of funny. The third of the Fatui Harbingers which has the power equivalent to a god is wary of you - a broke girl trying to make it another day.

"You have few questions for me." She states. Didn't Tartaglia also mention this? Perhaps you should be more cautious and ask more questions.

"What's your name?" You ask. "Columbina." She answers.

This continued for a few minutes, her answers were all short and straight forward even if you'd ask philosophical questions like: "Why did the bird cross the road?"

Okay, I'll be honest.

You were just abusing this time to ask useless questions. I mean, who wouldn't?

Two Harbingers ended up in your living room.

The first you couldn't understand but the second one, a female one, spoke your language. Yeah, she had some errors and used weird words, but you could understand her.

You continued to chat for a bit until you heard footsteps which was weird because Columbina was sprayed across the couch and you were leaning against the coffee table.

You turned your head and noticed that Tartaglia was in your kitchen. You totally forgot about him.

"What are you doing, Tartaglia?" He didn't respond. Oh, right. No English. You turned towards Columbina with a hopeful look in your eyes.

She seemed to pick up what you wanted of her and gave you a small nod. "Тарталья, что ты делаешь у нее на кухне?" She smiled.

"Я голоден. Помогите мне разобраться, как пользоваться этим странным механизмом?" He asked her.

Columbina turned towards you. "He's hungry. Go help him, won't you? He is a horrible cook." 

You didn't have time to respond. Something just seemed to pull you towards him, you wanted to obey her. You wanted to make her happy. For her to accept you. To worship like a-

You bumped into a hard back. Tartaglia turned around. "Товарищ, будьте осторожны." He laughed.

'What was that?' You felt a little dizzy but it passed quickly.

By the time your vision stopped swimming, Tartaglia had already gotten out a few ingredients from your market visit.

You scanned over them. Some eggs, a little bit of bacon and spices. You looked at the clock which hung right above your microwave.

It was a little late to eat eggs and bacon. He'd be full before you can make dinner. Also, you wanted to eat the bacon. No way you're letting him take it from you.

You put back the ingredients and replaced them with other. You peeked to look at Columbina who was laying on her side on the couch.

Now that you think about it, do they need sleep? Tartaglia didn't feel tired when he was reading that fanfiction. Maybe that was because he was stuck in the abyss.

You made dinner. It wasn't anything grand, just something simple that would fill your stomachs. It felt weird having to cook for three people now.

Does that mean you have to buy another toothbrush? Damn.

You placed down the plates on the coffee table. Columbina perked up when she heard the porcelain. 

"I assumed you were unable to afford porcelain, but looks like I was wrong." She said.

Was she mocking you or was that pity? 

"Ты снова меня оставляешь." Tartaglia chimed in, plopping down on the floor since Columbina was occupying the couch.

"Uh? Do you know what he said?" You turned to Columbina, hopeful that she could translate.

"He's bitchy about feeling left out." She laughed.

Bitchy?

"That's quite a foul mouth for the Moon Maiden." You mumbled, Columbina just eyed you and shrugged.

"It has been a long time since I held that title." She seemed... Melancholic? If that's the correct description for her torn smile.

You nodded slowly while you ate.

'She's surprisingly easy to get along with. Is it an act or is she being sincere?'

"So uh. Columbina, do you have any idea on how you guys came here?" You asked, if they stayed too long it'll take a big toll on your savings.

"He's overstayed his welcome, hasn't he?" She scoffed while looking at Tartaglia who was picking at his food. "How insolent."

You turned your head slightly. "Ешь еду. Мы гости. Ты Предвестник или дитя малое?" Columbina said.

You had no idea what she said but Tartaglia seemed to comply and finally started to actually eat his food. You shrugged slightly. You didn't mind having his portion if he wouldn't eat it.

"What did you say to him?" You ask her, your head returning to it's former angle.

"I told him to behave." She stated. You pried further but immediately stopped when you started hearing voices in your head again.

'They're definitely related to her. Is this how she kills people? By luring them into committing suicide?' You gulped nervously. 

The voices were whispering but the first time you heard them they were yelling. Did she try to kill you back then?

Wouldn't that mean that she tried to kill you just now? You got shivers when you thought about it.

"Where does he sleep?" You looked back up.

"On the couch...?" Your answer seemed to satisfy her. 

"I'm guessing you do not have another accomodation?" 

"No." She sighed at your response.

"He'll sleep on the floor then." She lazily stood up. "Тарталья."

"Wait!" You called out. "Uh.. we can share a bed?" 

Holy fuck. You just offered a Harbinger to sleep with you. Well, she's also a girl but still.

That doesn't change the fact that she's a harbinger. The third one.

"You don't seem comfortable with that." She laughed while you nervously scratched your neck.

"Спать будешь на полу." She demanded. Tartaglia simply nodded. "Это нормально. Бывало и хуже."

You felt embarrassed.

You offered to share a bed and were rejected in front of another person. 

That was humiliating. Surely she didn't mean to make it awkward for you?

"I'll head to bed first. Good night." You stood up and wandered towards the door. 

"Good night." You gave her a quick glance as she bid you a good night and closed the door.

She was standing in the living room, her hands behind her back. She was wearing a smile.

Code word: wearing.

You've flashed enough customer service smiles to know that that smile was as fake as it gets.

"Don't befriend harbingers." You said to yourself, your voice slightly trembling.

The door to the bathroom was wide open, you stumbled towards it. The air felt suffocating.

The next thing you knew was that your head was hanging over the toilet seat, vomit shooting out of your mouth.

"Fuck..." You gasped before cleaning your mouth. You felt filthy but you had already showered before. 

'Its a waste of money.' You told yourself.

"Just a waste of money..." You shivered. 

You felt like you were being watched by a thousand eyes.

Chapter Text

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Now Playing:

Arms Tonite by Mother Mother

0:10 ─♡───── 3:47

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Despite originally deterring from showering to save money, you went ahead and took a short shower anyway.

You scrubbed your skin until it turned red but it still didn't feel like the filth would come off. Only when you accidentally drew blood did you stop.

"Fuck..." Your hands roughly Intertwined with your wet hair. You looked down at your skin. You didn't rub it — you scratched at it. 

Red pooled at your fingernails and you held them under the water, popping the shampoo open and draining it onto your hand.

Foam formed in a matter of seconds due to your eagerness to get the blood away.

It didn't. You gave up when your fingers started to hurt as well. "What is wrong with me today?" The foamy shampoo left your hands when you put them up to your cheeks.

'How long have I been showering?' You turned off the water, the warmth slowly creeping away from you.

You hated showering but you loved feeling clean. The cold was one reason for your dislike towards it.

One foot stepped onto the tiles of your bathroom, the other followed. You quickly wrapped a bath towel around yourself, warming up your cold, naked body.

Your head turned towards the foggy bathroom mirror. You were standing in front of it before you could even register it.

Despite not wanting to look at your sorry state you wiped the condensed water away with your arm.

A sharp hiss left your lips the moment you saw the marks on your body.

"I look like a hot mess. Well, cold mess would be more suitable." You huffed, supporting yourself over your sink with both your hands.

'I have to go to work tomorrow or else I might get fired.' Your head hung low, water beads dripping onto the porcelain sink.

'Two harbingers to accommodate for...' Your cheeks reddened as you recalled the embarrassment from Columbina declining your request. Then you felt sick to the stomach again as you remembered the voices.

"They must feel lost as well, no? This is a foreign place for both of them after all..." Your right hand rested on your neck. 

You took a deep breath before beginning to dry yourself off. It took a lot longer than it usually would, your uncomfortable state being partially at fault.

Once your hair was fully dry you threw your dirty clothes into the washing machine and went back into your room.

You took out a t-shirt and shorts before throwing yourself onto your bed. You clung onto a pillow, wrapping your arms around it like a protective cocoon.

'Tomorrow will be a stressful day.' 

Your worries vanished as sleep took you. It was surprisingly easy to fall asleep. Maybe the girl singing lullabies outside of your door had a play in that but no matter, you could sleep peacefully and that's all that was important.

Even though your sleep was peaceful, the following day would probably not be due to you forgetting to set an alarm.

You did wonder why you felt so powered once you woke up. 

You stretched your limbs before letting out a loud yawn to assert dominance in some kind of way.

You reached for your old phone which you had originally kept in an old shoe box but before you could even take it into your hand, a call interrupted.

Your boss? How did she even get this number?

Oh right, you put it into your contact information just to be sure.

But... Why was your boss calling you?

You picked up the phone, accepting the call rather quickly after determining that it might be important and not just some 'Can you come in earlier tomorrow?' bullshit. "Good morning. Why are you calling me this early? I told you I'd take the morning shift today, didn't I?" 

A screech could be heard from the other end, your eyes widened from shock in return.

"Early?" Your boss asked, that was probably a rhetorical question based on the tone of her voice.

"Early?!" She repeated, but this time louder. "Do you know what time it is? Jenny is dying at the counter because you're not here!" 

You stood up from your bed and made your way over to your closet, picking out your work clothes.

Jenny? Oh, right. Your co-worker. Why was she there so early? Doesn't she usually take the afternoon shi-

Then it hit you like a truck hitting an anime protagonist.

Your mouth fell open and you quickly looked at the time.

Saying you were late would be an understatement. "Oh, fuck." You gasped.

"Fuck?" Your boss mocked. "If you're not here in fifteen minutes, I swear to god." 

You interrupted her. "Fifteen minutes? The best I can do is like... Thirty? Fourty-five?" Sweat started to roll down your forehead.

That seemed to enrage your boss. She scoffed at your comment which soon turned into some sort of manic laughter. "Don't even bother coming in today." Did she have a change of heart? "You're being let go."

Your face dropped. "Wait! Please, I need this. I need this job. I'll be there in thirty — no, fifteen! Just give me fifteen minutes." She didn't answer.

You were afraid to look at your phone. And when you finally did, your worries were confirmed. She had hung up.

You were fired. So much time wasted on that shitty place and they fired you without a second thought.

Anger, dissapointment and worry could be seen on your face in a span of minutes.

You were baffled at the situation, enraged by their audacity and worried about the future.

Your savings were pretty much non-existent at this point and with no income the longest you'd last would be... Maybe five days? Three if you're unlucky and your new roommates are really hungry.

Wait. Why do you have to care for them? They randomly intruded into your space.

And they're harbingers. They should be able to take care of themselves.

You looked towards your door. Determination fueling your steps as you swung it open. "Excuse me!" You announced, your eyes landing on Tartaglia who was making eggs and bacon in your kitchen, wearing a blue apron with heart all over it.

"Товарищ! Ты проснулся. Иди, иди. Я тебе поесть приготовила." You ignored what he said, you didn't understand anyway. Your eyes wandered towards Columbina instead who was looking out the window.

"I'm... Confused." You simply said.

She turned to look at you. "Your moon. It's not fake like the one in our sky." 

You perked up at that. 'A fake moon in the sky? Oh, right. Scaramouche did say that the sky was fake in... What was it, 1.1? Or maybe 1.2?'

"I... Still wish to return to the moon that belongs to me." She said melancholy. Sorrow was placed on her face like a veil.

You took another step — or tumble — forward. That was until your gut told you to stop. And so you did. For once you didn't hear the voices, though you were still on edge.

"Accept his offering. He means no harm." Columbina said. Your head turned towards the direction she suddenly pointed at. Childe.

"Right." You nodded your head. This situation was bizarre. Childe cooking, Columbina rambling about some... Moon? 

You snapped yourself back to reality when you heard a plate set down on the counter. You eyed the food.

'The talk can wait a bit... I'm hungry.' You sneaked another glance at Tartaglia who was cleaning the pan. He noticed you staring and gave you the nod-and-smile combo.

He probably gave up on communicating with you.

He stared at the device resting on the table. Though this time he made no effort to destroy it... Luckily.

'Seems like he improved quite a bit. Just what on earth did Columbina say to him?' You took a bite of the food. It didn't taste horrible but it left an awkward aftertaste in your mouth.

He added too much salt. Did they just lose all their skills? The characters, exclusively Childe in this case because Columbina isn't released yet, were masters at cooking. That doesn't include the Shogun though.

Your eyes turned towards the TV as you ate. The new version released a few days ago but you haven't had the chance to play yet because of them.

Now that you actually put more thought into this... Based on the spoilers you've seen on Social Media, Columbina is supposed to wear a much more blueish garment.

Somethings not.... Right.

The trailer for 6.0 stated that the Fatui had to retrieve the Damselette in Nod Krai but Tartaglia has made no effort to 'capture' her.

Wouldn't he at least try to fight her if she betrayed the Tsaritsa? Why is he being so calm?

You went to take another bite of your food, only to realise that you've already finished eating it.

Tartaglia let out a laugh. "Моя еда действительно настолько вкусная? Я приготовлю ещё, если хочешь."

You didn't bother raising your head.

Tartaglia was dragged into the abyss by Skirk if you recall correctly, but he doesn't have any sign of an injury.

It doesn't make any sense why they're so...

"I sense worry coming from you." The gentle voice of Columbina says behind you.

You turn to look at her. She's still looking out the window, her hair blowing in the breeze.

"I've had a bad day." You answered, turning your back to her as you hand Tartaglia your dishes.

"This early in the day?" She asks as if she's testing you. Or maybe she's testing the waters.

"Are you not hungry? You haven't eaten since yesterday." You start before she can say anything else.

Columbina turns her head slightly. "I don't have to eat. It brings me no satisfaction. But... If you have food similar to Nod Krai's... I suppose I can have a bite."

'Obsessed with the new region much? Based on the leaks, she's a key figure in Nod Krai. I don't think she's the antagonist for this version though.' You contemplate.

"What kind of food is there in Nod Krai?" You ask her. She seemed to ponder for a moment before walking towards you.

She signals... Some kind of baguette? Meat? Well... Something circular and it has a stick inside.

"It has been a long time since I've had something like it so I don't know the name. It is a bun with a long, slender piece of meat inside. I've seen travelers top it off with... A red sauce."

Was she talking about a hotdog?

"A hotdog then?" Her smile widened slightly. "That's what the locals call it." She clasps her hands together.

"A hotdog..." You let it roll off your tongue. That's incredibly simple.

"Yeah, sure. I can make you one." Columbina sat on the couch, the cushions shifting under her weight. Someone seems excited.

You quickly whip up a hotdog with whatever ingredients you could find. You didn't have hotdog buns so you used toast instead. She didn't seem to mind.

For someone who apparently doesn't get any satisfaction from eating, she sure is enjoying the hotdog.

You leaned back and forth, scratching your neck. This was the perfect time to tell them about your financing problems since she seemed content.

It was just hard getting the first words out. "Hey... Uh." Her eyes met yours as she took another bite of her makeshift hotdog.

"So... There's this problem." You started. The words didn't make it out of your mouth.

The sky. It's so beautiful. I want to fly. You want to fly, don't you? To be free. Free. Free. Like a bird without chains. Free. Free. Free.

You took a step back, your eyes widening. Your breaths came out as short gasps. Columbina set the hotdog down with a calm expression.

"You feel threatened." She said, not looking at you.

"They react to fear. To worries. To threats." She explains. "I'm not saying you're someone to worry about. You are much weaker than Tartaglia."

The voices got louder again. More forceful, more demanding.

"You let us stay here without a care in the world." The girl continues. The air feels thick. You wanted to turn towards Tartaglia and ask for help but it would be futile. 

"So I — no, we — will protect you." 

Suddenly, the tension disperses. Your knees felt weak but when you wanted to look back up, you heard a firm knock on your door.

"Delivery!" Someone yells. You didn't order anything? Maybe Tartaglia accidentally called Uber Eats? Judging from the voice it's probably a man. 

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. The voice calls out again. You wanted to walk towards the door but Columbina stepped forward.

She shook her head. You turn towards Tartaglia. He didn't move. 

'What's going on here? Why aren't they doing anything?' You gulp nervously.

The banging on the door became louder.

'It's not something dangerous, is it? Even if... They're harbingers. I doubt anyone is stronger than them.' 

The knocking gradually became quieter. Did they give up?

You started walking towards the door. You looked through the peephole but there was no one.

You let out a sigh. "I've never thought I'd live to see the day where a harbinger akin to a god is afraid of some delivery driver." 

Columbina was grounded in the living room.

This was getting awkward.

You opened your mouth to say something. "We can't hurt anyone." Columbina interrupted.

Tartaglia fidgeted with his sleeve, he seemed awfully guilty of something? That was incredibly out of character for him. 

"I got the feeling that you just tried to kill me though? You know... With the entire intimidation thing." You let out an awkward laugh. The air felt stuffy again.

"And yet you're fine." Columbina says. "You should've died a long time ago." 

That hurt to hear. Were they actively trying to kill you but backing out in the last second? "So you're telling me you tried to kill me?" 

"You should've died. Everyone does when they hear ▇▇▇▇." You didn't understand the last part. 

Your stomach churned. How can she just casually admit that she's tried to kill you and talk about protecting you not long ago?

You lost your job and now someone who's been sleeping in your house for a few days tells you that they've tried to kill you several times these past days?

You breathing sped up. Fuck, were you having a panic attack right now?

"And — better be safe than sorry — this brings me to the conlusion that we are unable to kill nor hurt anyone." 

Your eyes widened.

A blessing for you.

A curse for a harbinger.