ok, maybe it's getting a bit out of hand.
i'm a damn fatui harbinger!
she's just a traveling magician!
i can't let myself be distracted from my work.
why did i kiss her?
or did she kiss me?
i'm so confused...
"UGHAHH!" Scaramouche yelled into his pillow, the sound coming out muffled.
He rolled around in his bed, his hair going wild and the circles around his eyes growing darker by the hour. It's got to be around 3am by now. Scaramouche hasn't been able to sleep. And like he always does, he's overthinking everything you could possibly ever think about.
Suddenly, the door creaked open, making Scaramouche shoot up in his bed. "It's only me, sir" A tired looking Garret said, poking his head through the door, holding a single candle to illuminate his way. "Sir, it's nearly 3:30 in the morning. Why aren't you asleep?" "I don't know! It's just you know how i think and i think to much and i hate thinking and i hate everything and i-," Scaramouche rambled, fumbling over his words before giving up and showing a pillow over his face. "Sir, you need sleep. Ms. Signoras business is taking longer than planned, and that means we have a lot more work to do." Garret lectured, placing the candle on a small table in the corner of the bare room, and walking over to Scaramouches bed.
Garret grabbed the pillow from scaramouches face, and held is teasingly above his face. "Heeeeeey! give that baaaaacccckkkk...!" Scaramouche whined. "Sir, go to bed. I don't want to have to remind you again." Garret said. He showed the pillow under Scaramouches head and yanked the covers up over him, almost like he was tucking him in, before swiftly turning around. He proceeded to the small table in the corner, and carefully picked up the still-burning candle.
"Goodnight, Sir." Garret said, shutting the door behind him.
Scaramouche groaned in annoyance. Why couldn't he sleep? Why does he have to think so much?
His eyes trailed from the door when Garret had just exited, to the small table in the corner. They continued all the way around the giant room, before settling on the end of his bed. This room was beyond bare. The floors all the same bland color of brown, and walls all the same bland color of tan. A few meaningless paintings traced the walls, and a single potted plant lay solemnly in the corner.
Everything was all just so... bland....
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Scaramouches eyes shot open. The morning light beamed through the small window, piercing his eyes like a sharp knife. Thank goodness, he must have fallen asleep.
He glanced at the small clock on the wall, squinting his eyes to see where it's hands stood.
8:20am...
Oddly... reasonable.
Scaramouche rolled out of bed, following to the small closet by his bed. He picked out his signature outfit, and tossed it on the bed.
Hm Hm Hmmmm...
Scaramouche hummed to himself, using his comb to carefully do his hair.
Hm Hm Hm, Hm Hm Hmmmmm.... Do-di-do-di-do-di-do-di-do...
He carefully set the comb down, and slowly shuffled back into his room.
"SIR!" The door burst open, slamming against the wall. A panicked Garret stood in the door frame.
"I don't know how, but somehow one of the higher ups found out about you hanging out with Mona! Her majesty's personal assistant has arrived, she wants to speak with you immediately!" Garret said, grabbing Scaramouche by the wrist, and dragging him out of the room.
"WHAT? GARRET! STOP! I DONT WANNA TALK TO HERRRRRR!" Scaramouche complained, almost like an upset child throwing a tantrum. "Please just make yourself look good sir. Don't mess this up!" Garret said, dragging him down the hall. They stopped at the conference room, and Garret shoved Scaramouche in front of him. "Now play nicely!" Garret said, before bolting away.
"Ahem..."
Scaramouches eyes shot to the lavish lady at the end of the table.
"Certainly you're quite prepared for my visit, are you not, number 6?" She spoke.
Her hair was as white as snow, styled in a fancy side part. She wore an expensive fur coat and white gloves, with a dress worth millions of mora. Being the tsaritsas right hand woman, one wouldn't dare expect less.
"But of course i am!" Scaramouche nervously spat out, racing around the table to her. "How lovely to see you, Ms. Vivienne!" He said, lifting her hand to kiss it.
"Please have a seat, number 6, we have a lot to discuss." Vivienne spoke. "Of course, my lady!" Scaramouche said, hurrying to sit down.
Now what you need to understand was, that no one liked Vivienne.
She was like an awful disease that didn't go away. And being the Tsaritsas personal assistant, she never did go away. She was hand picked to be the Tsaritsas assistant and follows her everywhere. She was always there. Nodding her head in agreement, shaking it in disapproval. Staring you down! You name it. She handled all the paperwork, meetings, lunches, basically anything the tsaritsa wouldn't bother herself doing. Even the harbingers feared her. One wrong move and little miss perfect would run straight to her majesty. And of course, she would believe her because in her eyes Vivienne could do no wrong.
And now she was here.
Great!
"Now number 6, i understand you have been placed in care of Mondstat while number 8 takes care of matters in the geo nation. I also understand you have been more than unprofessional while you were here." Vivienne said.
"My lady, you must understand that-,"
"Are you or are you not associating yourself in unprofessional matters with the simple lowlifes of Mondstat Scaramouche?!" Vivienne proclaimed. She slammed her fist to the table, making Scaramouche go silent.
"What you must understand number 6 is that the people here want to use you. They understand your position of power and want to use it to their advantage. They are no more than hungry dogs begging for food under a table. It is disrespectful and unprofessional that you would disregard your duties to instead fraternize with them!
Scaramouche sat frozen in his seat, not sure of what to do.
"If i hear another word about this from ANYONE, you will be removed from your position here and you will face the consequences." Vivienne said, now standing up from her seat and marching towards the door. "Don't get sappy with the hungry dogs, number 6. Once they get a taste of food, they only ever want more." Vivienne said, slamming the door, leaving a stunned Scaramouche sitting there, staring at the wall.
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Authors Note!-
It has been a hot minute guys. I'm so sorry for not updating, i really just lost motivation. I'm trying to get back into it, i hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
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Try Me, Bitch. (Scaramona)
RomanceScaramouche has been stationed in Mondstat while Signora heads to Liyue, and just his luck, there are going to be more than a few run-ins with a certain astrologist that he isn't necessarily too fond of. This will have references to the November 20...