Tidal | Neuvillette

XXIV

                        - surpressed delusions -

"A ball? I return to Fontaine only to be greeted by a ball? This is absurd."  A sheer woman's voice mocked from the room.

She strides with an air of effortless confidence, her every step a symphony of grace and poise. Her silver and black hair cascades in sleek waves down her back, framing a face that exudes an aura of mystery and allure. Piercing eyes, the color of storm clouds on a moonlit night, hold a glint of mischief and cunning, betraying the sharp intellect that lies beneath their surface.Her lips, painted a deep crimson, curve into a sly smile that speaks of secrets whispered in the dark and deals made in the shadows.

With each movement, the subtle click of her dark red nails against the polished surface of her desk echoes through the room, a testament to her unwavering confidence and authority.Clad in impeccably tailored attire that accentuates every curve, she exudes power and sophistication in equal measure.

There's a magnetic pull to her presence, drawing others to her with an irresistible allure that belies the danger lurking beneath her polished exterior.She is a woman of ambition and ambition alone, unapologetically embracing her role as both seductress and strategist in the game of power and control.

A villainess in the eyes of some, a formidable adversary to others, she navigates the treacherous waters of her world with a steely resolve and a calculating mind.

For those who dare to underestimate her, she is a force to be reckoned with – a femme fatale whose charm is matched only by her ruthlessness. In a world where only the strong survive, she is the epitome of feminine power, a true girlboss whose dark allure leaves a trail of admirers and adversaries in her wake.

Arlecchino.

Beside her, another figure, his ginger hair tousled and his round face perpetually adorned with a mischievous grin.

Despite his somewhat bumbling appearance, there's a cunning glint in his eyes that hints at a mind always at work, devising schemes and plots to further the Fatui's agenda. His frame may be stout, but his mind is sharp, his every action calculated to achieve maximum impact with minimal effort. He may not possess the finesse of his more elegant colleagues, but what he lacks in grace, he makes up for in sheer audacity and resourcefulness.

Despite his penchant for mischief and mayhem, there's a certain charm to his roguish demeanor that makes him oddly endearing. He may not always get things right on the first try, but his unwavering determination and relentless pursuit of his goals make him a force to be reckoned with in his own right.In the cutthroat world of the Fatui, where treachery and betrayal are commonplace, he navigates the intricate web of politics and power with a blend of cunning and guile that belies his seemingly simple nature.

With every scheme he hatches and every plot he foils, he proves that intelligence comes in all shapes and sizes—even if it happens to come in the form of a low-key stupid, but surprisingly cunning, ginger Fatui. He's also in every region...... all the time.

Tartaglia.

"Honestly, what kind of game is this?"

"Would you cut it out? Jesus, you're really complaining when Lady Furina is gonna be there? Hello? Gnosis is in sight."

"Shut up, you pathetic ginger."

"Harsh."

In the dimly lit chamber, she sits at her ornate desk, a vision of elegance and authority as she pores over the intricate details of her plan. Her silver and black hair catches the flickering candlelight, casting shadows that dance across the walls like whispers of secrecy.With a flick of her dark red nails, she adjusts the parchment before her, her keen eyes scanning the meticulously drawn diagrams and schematics.

Each line and curve represents a piece of the puzzle, a strategic move in the intricate game she is about to play.As she maps out her strategy, her mind teems with calculations and contingencies, each thought a carefully calculated step towards her ultimate goal. With every stroke of her quill, she weaves a web of deception and intrigue, spinning a narrative that will ensnare her unsuspecting targets in a dance of manipulation and deceit.

Her lips curl into a knowing smile as she visualizes the chaos she will unleash upon the unsuspecting revelers at the masquerade ball. For her, the event is not merely a social gathering but a stage upon which she will assert her dominance and assert her authority.

With a final flourish, she sets down her quill, her plan complete and her determination unwavering. As she rises from her seat, a sense of satisfaction washes over her, knowing that she is one step closer to achieving her ambitions.

"So this ball... is it secretly a key to unlocking some sick mysteries that the courtroom lack."

"Stupid hydro fuckers."

"Childe, you have a hydro vision."

"Okay and at least my kids don't call me Father when I'm a woman."

"So you just called yourself a woman."

"...shut up."

Arlecchino pondered the visionary of the ballroom.

In the midst of a routine gathering of the 2 Fatui agents, a high-ranking official announces a new mission: infiltrating a prestigious gala event hosted by a rival faction.

"...y/n might be there."

As the mention of y/n's possible attendance at the gala sank in, Arlecchino's mind whirled with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

On one hand, the thought of encountering her in such a glamorous setting filled her with a sense of anticipation, igniting a spark of hope that perhaps this could be the opportunity she had been waiting for to see them after all these years.

Yet, beneath the surface, a flicker of doubt lingered. Arlecchino knew all too well the dangers that came with the life of a Fatui agent, and the prospect of y/n being caught in the crossfire sent a shiver down her spine.

She couldn't shake the nagging fear that their presence at the gala could spell trouble, putting them at risk in ways she couldn't bear to imagine.Still, Arlecchino was nothing if not resourceful, and she resolved to approach the situation with caution and cunning.

With determination burning bright in her stormy eyes, Arlecchino set her sights on the gala ahead, ready to face whatever challenges may come her way in pursuit of her mission—and, perhaps, a chance encounter with her that could change everything.

"Reunited at last, I see. How long has it been?"

"About 5 years."

Arlecchino stood up, tracing the figure of the mannequin in her office.

"Play your cards right, my dear Furina. Your nation is in my hands..."

"...if you're not careful, I could easily betray it."

                     oh yeah woo yeah oh yeah

        GUYS THE TRAIN CONDUCTER YELLED AT                  
                    ME IT WAS SO AWKWARD

         anyway this chapter is a bit of a filler but            
    basically I'm plotting things. Let me cook. There
                  will be more Neuvilette soon.