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As far as his parents were concerned, the Fatui was the only option when it came to dealing with an unruly, young Ajax. The idea at first wasn’t all that appealing if he was being honest with himself. Having to constantly do the Tsaritsa’s bidding, especially in the lower ranks, didn’t interest him at all, but joining the Fatui was an opportunity. A never-ending stream of strong opponents and tough battles was something he just couldn’t pass up, settling his decision on the issue quickly. In the beginning, the majority of his days were spent training or doing grunt work. Boring as it sounds, there would be one chance encounter that would stick with the young recruit.
Upon receiving their assignments, Ajax found his colleagues begging their superiors for a change, to no avail. Why, you ask? Lord Scaramouche of course. Throughout all the ranks of the Fatui, working under the 6th Harbinger, Scaramouche, was a job that not a single recruit enjoyed. The ginger couldn’t help, but find himself laughing at the idea. Could one single person really be this unbearable? He’d have to investigate.
The corridor had been plunged into silence as the scene played out around him. He’d just been passing by with some other recruits when he’d happened to cross paths with one of the Harbingers. Upon immediate observation, the 6th didn’t seem like one of his superiors at all. His delicate, petite frame definitely didn’t match up with the image he’d had of him, going off word alone. His face was even more of a surprise being as doll-like as it was. Ajax almost found him cute... Ok, maybe a little more than almost . It was at that moment that the young man had decided to take a chance.
“Good morning, my Lord!” The ginger greeted the short Harbinger in earnest. Despite the rumors, it couldn’t hurt to try and talk to him, right?. Realizing the greeting was directed at him, Scaramouche’s beautiful features twisted into an expression of pure disgust. The puppet tilts his head up to lock eyes with the other man
“Say that again, I dare you.”
This reaction had caught the recruit off guard. He’d probably assumed that Ajax was mocking him, but on what planet was that mocking? Before he could stutter out any form of a reply, he’d found himself at Scaramouche’s mercy, kicked to the ground with the Harbinger’s foot resting upon his back. While he’d been nervous before, Ajax found himself overwhelmed with an entirely different emotion at the sudden turn of events.
“Think of this as your first warning.” Turning to leave, the 6th left him with those words alone.
As the Harbinger disappeared into the distance, his fellow recruits rushed to check on their fallen colleague. While he could hear some semblance of words coming out of their mouths, Ajax was too focused on his own rapid heartbeat to grasp them. In the aftermath of his humiliation, he found himself drowning in orgasmic pleasure. Scaramouche had exceeded his expectations and more. Behind that mask of beauty, lurked a pure sadistic evil. Just that look of malice alone set him ablaze. While he’d found people attractive before, none would occupy his thoughts long as they would soon be overtaken by those of combat. Scaramouche was the perfect bridge between Ajax’s desire and bloodlust. And so he soon found himself intoxicated with the puppet.
Sure, Scaramouche had been a Harbinger for a while now, but he’d never given Ajax even a passing glance. If you asked him about the up-and-coming recruit, he wouldn’t know who you were talking about at all.
Despite starting as a new recruit, Ajax had climbed the ranks at an astounding rate, eventually being acknowledged by the Tsaritsa herself. Finally joining the ranks of the Harbingers as the 11th, he took on the name “Tartaglia” alongside his codename, “Childe”. Scara’s first interaction with the ginger, as a fellow Harbinger, came about shortly after.
“Childe? Who the hell is that?”
The puppet found himself only slightly curious when it came to the news going around. A new harbinger was a big deal for sure, but for Scaramouche, this was just another bothersome colleague he had to worry about.
“Don’t act like I don’t exist! You didn’t even come to celebrate my promotion with everybody.” Childe whined, hoping to get a rise out of his senior.
“We haven’t even spoken to each other. What do you want me to do? A welcome song and dance number?” the puppet replied sarcastically to which the ginger rolled his eyes.
“If you had half a brain you wouldn’t have become a Harbinger in the first place.”
It was definitely a loaded statement, but that sort of thing was typical of him.
“You’re forgetting the time you slapped me around as a recruit.”
He attempted to remind Scaramouche of the incident, drawing an amused chuckle out of him. “You and the other 50 recruits that happens to in a day. Don’t let it get to your head, Tartaglia.” he shot back.
Why was he even entertaining the idea of a conversation with him? Surely, it wasn’t that Tartaglia was worth his time, but more that there was nothing better for him to be doing…
Since becoming one of his colleagues, every day without fail, he’d made it his mission to follow Scaramouche around and pester him with his company. With time, even stone will crumble.
While most of the time the other Harbingers would get one whiff of his personality and book it, Tartaglia was different. No matter how many jabs the puppet makes at him, Tartaglia was the one nut he couldn’t crack; he just couldn’t get under her skin. Not only was he immune to his rancid personality, but it was almost as if he could see through him. It infuriated him a good amount, sure, but something about him was growing on him. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, Scaramouche found himself attached to the time they spent together. His goofy laugh, warm grin, messy red hair, and ocean-blue eyes; he looked for them everywhere that he went. Honestly, these feelings were a sudden surprise for the puppet. As a non-human husk, he wouldn’t have thought he’d find himself in this situation, but here he was… Scaramouche was infatuated with him.