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Columbina is a completely normal person.
Her flock, on the other hand, is made up of very strange and difficult people- to put it lightly. They also don’t seem to like her very much.
The Jester says, “Don’t worry, Columbina. They just need some time to get used to you, that’s all.” That had been 3 centuries ago. At this point, Columbina has gotten used to their quirks, rather than the other way around. If they avert their gazes, or turn around to walk back the same way they came when they see her, that’s okay. She still likes them all the same, even if it does make her sad a little bit of the time.
The Tsaritsa’s nice to her, at least.
“Hello Columbina,” she says, whenever Columbina stops by her balcony. She doesn’t seem to mind at all when she perches on the railing, sending snow into the dormant plant pots below.
Are you doing okay, your Majesty? You always look so sad. The Tsaritsa sighs, and rests her forearms against the balcony. The weathered look on her face doesn’t shift.
“Aren’t you cold like that, dear?” the Tsaritsa asks, staring out over the balcony. Columbina shakes her head.
No. Your concern warms my heart!
The Tsaritsa stays there a while longer, a distant expression on her face. Columbina will stay here a while longer too, to keep her company. She looks like she could use that.
The Jester is too professional to be considered “nice.” She supposes polite would be a better word for it. Pierro at least talks to her, if only to tell her where she needs to go next.
He also tells her more about the others, since they all seem shy about talking to her themselves. Columbina is shy too, so she prefers to leave letters over speaking. The Jester brings her a special type of stationary, scented with rose water and with watercolor flowers in the margins so they know it’s from her. She often spends many hours in the Aviary, choosing which words should go on them. She knows her comrades are all busy people, so she doesn’t want to waste their time with long paragraphs of pleasantries.
Oh! She supposes she should explain the Aviary. It’s a very large, glass dome-like building with many plants and trees. It’s very bright and welcoming even in the wintertime when the sun sets rapidly over the snow. Columbina likes perching up on high branches, so she can see all the flowers she plants.
Speaking of flowers- Columbina looks down at the stack of letters in her hand, and reads them over carefully:
What is your favorite flower?
There, it’s short and straight to the point. She’ll ask the Jester to deliver them, or maybe she can leave them in the places her comrades frequent. She waits a while for a reply, but there aren’t a lot of those. Or they’re usually something to the extent of No preference. That’s okay! That means Columbina will get to choose for them.
Flowers can convey lots of meanings, which is probably why Mondstadt has an entire festival dedicated to them! Flowers of friendship, flowers of love, flowers of regret…
The Tsaritsa always gets marigolds. She accepts them with a smile.
The Jester’s favorite flower is one that is hard to find. Columbina has searched far and wide for the Inteyvat, but it seems they only grow in places of the world even she can’t reach at the moment. She’s only seen someone wearing them once, wearing them in her hair- but she doesn’t want to take hers. They look rather lovely on her.
So, Columbina supposes a small bouquet of asphodels will do. The Jester accepts them with strained acknowledgement.
The Captain tells her he has no preference, so Columbina picks a few Gladiolus. He’s off somewhere right now, so they’ll be waiting for him when he gets back.
The Doctor gets a yellow carnation, one to each segment. They look at her blankly, before thanking her.
The Knave gets a black dahlia, left outside her door. When Columbina goes back to check on them, they’re still there, so she leaves another.
The Rooster gets begonias. She puts them in a vase on the desk next to all his papers, after tidying up a bit. His office is a mess.
Everyone seems to have forgotten about the Balladeer. Columbina hasn’t, of course, so she’ll have to send the tansies tied around the leg of a carrier pigeon, watching it take off from her hands to Sumeru.
She leaves a wreath of petunias around the Marionette’s puppet friend. It nods at her mechanically.
The Regrator gets lobelias. She’s able to deliver them in person. Pantalone takes their stalks, hesitant, and smiles. He never opens his eyes.
When Childe returns, he gets buttercups by the handful. He stands there, back rigid, as she drops them into his open palms.
“Thank you, Damslette,” he says.
You’re welcome! He stares hard at the floor, until she slowly backs away.
Finally, the Fair Lady. Her favorite had been the Cecilia.
Columbina has already planted the flowers for La Signora. The love-lies-bleeding clings to every wall and branch in the Aviary. When the grain ripens, she’ll use them to feed the birds that come and rest their wings here.
Columbina is there now, sitting on her favorite perch.
Finally, all the presents have been delivered. All that running around has made her hungry. Her flower garden is probably hungry too, asking to be watered soon. She’s asked one of her subordinates to deliver a few baked goods, with a precise list of how much of each she would like. Muffins, Danishes, fruit tarts…perhaps she’ll collect a few tea leaves from the garden to brew a nice pot.
Ahh. She hopes the food gets here soon.
A white pigeon flutters up to land on the branch beside her, ruffling its feathers. She ruffles her own in greeting.
“Hello, Columbina!” it coos.
Oh. Hello friend.
“You looked so sad, so I thought I’d join you!”
I’m not sad. Columbina feels her cheeks, only to find that they’re wet again. She lifts the blindfold to wipe her eyes. Well, maybe a little.
“It’s okay! You’ll have company soon!” The pigeon hops up and down.
You’re right!
As she says this, she hears the door to the Aviary, a male agent shuffling forwards reluctantly. Hugged to his chest is a paper bag, grease spots beginning to pool at its bottom.
“Uh…Lady Columbina?” he calls out. One step into the room, his nose wrinkles, and he turns away, gagging. Oh no! The Jester has come by a few times to ask her to do something about the smell. Columbina’s tried, but the flowers don’t seem to mind.
She descends from the branch, landing in front of the agent, who flinches. His head is turned to once side, staring pointedly at the far wall. He really must not like looking at her. “Don’t be afraid,” she wants to say, but anything she says will probably only make him feel worse.
It makes her feel…well…Columbina takes the paper bag, sniffling. It’s alright. She’s used to it, now. She opens up the bag, to see- Muffins! He got the muffins! She could do a little dance of happiness right now. And are those- Tarts? Tarts too! Oh, she could cry.
She makes a sound, a sort of Eep! that makes the agent’s head turn, and she sees his eyes widening as he looks into her own-
His head explodes over Columbina’s face, skull fragments and brain matter splattering over her cheeks and torso. Some of them get into her mouth, and she spits them out, wiping her tongue on the back of her hands. The headless body slumps to the floor in a heap, blood already pooling out and sinking into the soil. She blinks the red from her eyes, and stares.
No. no no nonono- not again-
Columbina falls to her knees.
The maggots are already moving, heading towards the warm body that has fallen onto their soil. She tries to kick them away, but they’re stubborn little things, and leave a wide berth around where she sits. Columbina abandons the attempt, instead burying her head in her hands, leaving wet trails of red across her face. Her tears come easily, as they always do.
She’ll have to find out what his name was. What sort of flower he liked. Columbina drops her hands, and looks behind her at her garden. Her flowers. She likes looking at her flowers. They calm her down. Humming also calms her down.
Slowly, she feels her feathers unruffle. Her breath steadies.
Carefully, Columbina lifts the remains of the body, maggots falling off in the process, and sets him down in a patch of tulips. Then, she takes off again, heading back to her perch to view her garden from above. She must have planted thousands of flowers by now, in all sorts of varieties. They always bloom so beautifully.
The Jester tells her it’s because they receive good nutrition. She supposes the birds like it too, with the way they descend on the tulip patch, ravenous. By the time they’re finished, all that will be left to join the others will be the bones.
So, yes, Columbina is a completely normal person. She would like to ask you a question, however.
“So, what’s your favorite flower?”