Try Me, Bitch. (Scaramona)

Her Majesty Does Declare

Scaramouche hit the ground with a thud.

The brick was wet and cold, a thin layer of ice coated the cracks between each

Scaramouche felt a sharp pain in his right hip. He lad landed straight on his side. He could feel that the side of his face was scraped. He rolled from his side onto his back. He winced at the pain.

He focused onto the ceiling.

intricate designs danced along the rotunda. He could point out each snowflake. All painted individually, care and consideration on each stroke. a depiction of soldiers on horses of solid ice was painted on one side. Ahead of them, a women held a sword, pointing  straight ahead.

The women was dressed in a long navy and sky blue gown, with hints of gold dabbled throughout. Her hair bright white.

And even though Scaramouche was so far away, so far below the ceiling, he could still easily see the women's shining ruby red eyes.

Scaramouche lay dazed at the mural, the pain on his side started to slowly lessen each second,

Then it all came back at once.

"Get up, we have an appointment."

Vivienne stood above him, poking him in the side with the tip of her pointy heels.

"Poke the other side, would ya?"

Scaramouche managed to get out besides the immense agony in his hip.

"Don't talk back to me, now get up. I've had enough of you today and we really must hurry to see The Tsarista." Vivienne said, walking past Scaramouches limp body.

Scaramocuhe rubbed his eyes tiredly with his hands. Bits of Viviennes black smoke was hidden within the corners of them. He turned his head slightly, still sprawled out on the ground, to observe the room he was in.

He layed in the middle of a gigantic circular room. The walls were blue, and looked as though they were made of ice. Small plants sat on the tops of tables scattered along the walls. Beautifully painted vases stood next to most of them. A bright light stabbed his eyes as he gazed over the window.

Scaramouche groaned in annoyance.

With a knowing sense of impending dread, he slowly sat up. His palms moved to the ground behind him, giving him leverage. He stared at his feet. The side of one of his ankles was slightly bruised, and particles of ice already began to stick to his socks.

He looked slightly past his feet to see Vivienne walking down the hallway away from him.

He reached out next to him to grab his large, circular hat, it had fallen off on impact. He put it on and took careful time to readjust it to his liking, almost as if he was stalling for time.

Reluctantly, he got his legs underneath him and slowly stood up.

By now, Vivienne was almost at the end of the hallway. He felt that it was too risky to waste much more time, and so he picked up to a jog after her.

The thin cold air cut his lungs as he ran. But of course, that was expected. Scaramouche knew exactly where they were.

They were in the capital city of Snezhnaya, at the home of the Tsarista herself. Her castle just happened to be one of the largest structural buildings in all of Teyvat. The east wing of it alone was so large, it served as the fatui's main headquarters.