Chapter Text
The overall atmosphere of the Fatui headquarters was… unsettling, to say the least. It’s to be expected though, after all, this is where some of the most vile creatures plot world changing plans. It's not like Scaramouche necessarily minded; he’s not any different after all, if anything, he enjoyed the place (eh, no, ‘enjoyed’ suggests that he has positive feelings for this Archon foresaken building- perhaps ‘accepted’ is more appropriate in this scenario). With his position in power, he practically has control over anyone. It’s a shame that The Tsaritsa doesn’t acknowledge that he most definitely deserves to be the First Harbinger, and not the Sixth. But eh, what could he do about it? Anyways, he’s certain that he could surpass all of these other lunatics soon, it just is going to take some time, that's all.
Scaramouche kept a brisk pace as he walked throughout the halls, making sure to give each person he walked past a glare that easily gave all of them the chills- after all, he has to remind them of his authority somehow. Does he have anywhere to go? No. Does he have any purpose in speed walking across the entirety of the Palace while making everyone he walks past petrified? Also no. Actually, no, he takes that back, scaring all of the agents is very important, he can’t have them forgetting who is incharge. Of course, he does sometimes feel bad- wait, no. No he doesn’t feel bad, all mortals deserve to feel fear, he could never feel any sympathy for them.
He cursed under his breath; perhaps interacting with puny humans has been rotting his brain.
“Hmmm, what has gotten you so angry this time, Balladeer.” A familiar, and sadistic voice hummed from behind him, walking a little too close to him for comfort.
“Why does it matter, Dottore?” Scaramouche said the pathetic doctor's name as harshly as he possibly could, stepping away from the vile creature, glaring at the man like he wanted him dead. The Second Fatui Harbinger, one of few who genuinely held significant power over him.
“Oh my, what’s with the cruelty? Is it really such a crime for a doctor to check on his patient?” Dottore put a blood stained hand on Scaramouches shoulder, causing the puppet to shudder- he didn’t let The Doctor notice, of course. After all, if he were to notice, it would most definitely cause a few dents in his ego.
“I don’t really think ‘patient’ would be the right word here, perhaps ‘test subject’ would be more appropriate- what? Is the world famous Doctor becoming so stupid that he doesn't know the difference?” He spat, once again inching away from the fiend. Dottore most definitely noticed Scaramouche’s attempts at creating a large distance between them, as he shuffled closer, just to mess with him; it really makes one wonder how this sadistic fucker became more powerful then a puppet desined by a god.
“And I don’t think there’s really much of a difference.” Dottore gave a phony smile, getting even closer to The Balladeer. “Anyways, I don’t think you’re in any position to be talking back, unless you want to be experimented on again.” The Doctor finally created some distance between them, still smiling as he didn’t just threaten one of his fellow co-workers.
“I don’t think The Tsaritsa would be pleased if you experimented on me again, especially after you left me paralyzed for a week last time. I heard the little lecture she gave you after all.” Scaramouche glared at the blue haired man, narrowing his eyes. “What would you do if she found out you left me immobilized again? Ya’ know, she could kill you with ease if she chose to, especially if you disobey her orders again.” Dottore nodded, peacefully acknowledging Scaramouche’s words that emitted pure venom.
“You do bring up a fair point. Though, I doubt Her Excellency would kill me over someone as worthless as you. You would be dead if it weren’t for me tirelessly repairing your mechanics week after week. You should be more respectful, Scaramouche, you would be nothing without me. Furthermore, I don’t have time to argue with someone like you. Not only in the process of looking for something that holds far more significance than you, but I also am preparing for an important mission right now, so I must excuse myself.” Dottore formally grinned, as he began to walk away. Scaramouche made no effort in returning the smile. What the hell does he mean he would be nothing without him? Last he checked, all of the repairs he has needed within the last year was because of The Doctor’s ‘experiments’, all he’s doing is fixing his own pathetic mistakes.
But even then, he can’t help but to find some truth in Dottore’s words. After all, there’s been many times within the past few centuries where his doll-like body has cracked, or has gained exposed wires in fights. If it weren’t for Dottore, his skin would be adorned with scars that probably wouldn’t have even been close to healing.
After who knows how long, Scaramouche realized that he was standing in the middle of the hallway like an idiot. He continued forward, returning to glaring at every agent he passed. Well, at least he tried to. He briskly walked throughout the palace, until he began to hear what he suspected was… violent sobbing? Where the fuck could that be coming from?
The Balladeer glanced at a door, where he suspected the odd outburst originated from. Now under almost all circumstances, he would simply ignore this… excursion. However, he couldn’t help but notice that it was coming from the janitor's closet? Now why couldn’t this stranger just go to their room, after all, they have no right to bother everyone else with their immaturity. Perhaps he should give this human a lesson.
He walked over to the door, hesitating slightly; perhaps he should just let this person be, afterall, who knows what they’ve been through… nah, he’s not nice enough for that.
Scaramouche slowly, but forcefully, pushed the heavy stone door open. The pathetic noises grew louder, indicating that this stranger is definitely in here. He felt the door be pushed back a little, causing him to glare behind the large piece of rock.
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked the stranger, his voice loud, and full of cruelty. To his surprise, it in fact wasn’t an agent, or even a harbinger, but instead was a… young girl? The way the green haired girl sat with her knees curled against her chest, glaring at him with wide eyes was almost enough to make him feel bad for barging in- key word, almost .
Scaramouche let go of the door, as it closed on itself, its noise being loud enough to shake the shelfs adorned in cleaning supplies, and glass bottles. Curse those self-closing doors and being so loud. His eyes narrowed at the child who made no effort to answer his question. Just who does she think she is, ignoring a Harbingers question like that?
“I’ll ask one more time, what are you doing here? This place is restricted for those who work for The Fatui only.” The Balladeer asked again, raising his voice slightly more. The way the human began to shake even more than before made Scaramouche feel a slight amount of guilt, but not enough to apologize to the thing. Anyways, it’s her fault for wasting his time; she deserves to be afraid.
“I… I am…” the girl stuttered. If she did answer his question, he couldn’t hear it over her incoherent muttering. He rolled his eyes, looking down at the stranger as he sighed. It seems like she really isn’t in the mood to talk.
“You know what, nevermind, I honestly couldn’t care less.” Scaramouche spoke with as much spite as he could. “If you really insist on having a tantrum in a closet, at least open the curtains so you could see.” He pushed open the curtains of the singular tiny window, letting a miniscule amount of light in. It was probably as nice as he could possibly be right now, to be truthful, that was probably one of the only times within the past century where he was (well, tried to be; even though it was probably not obvious whatsoever) genuinely kind.
While he could pass off opening the curtains as an attempt at kindness, he also just mostly wanted to see what this kid looked like, after all, her features were hidden in the sheer darkness of the room (it technically isn’t a room, but who cares). To Scaramouche’s surprise, the kid wasn’t as young as he thought. He was sure that this green haired child was around seven, possibly eight, but with a way to actually see, it’s clear that she’s at least 13. He could see the way her skin was tight around the outline of her bone, and he could also see blood… lots of blood.
Damn, now he really is feeling bad for yelling at her- ah, wait, no no, he doesn’t feel bad. He doesn’t feel bad for a human, no way, not happening, not now, not ever.
“What the hell happened to you?” Scaramouche spoke slightly calmer than he intended to, now he’s really convinced that interacting with humans is rotting his brain, since he’s starting to lose his basic cognitive abilities.
The girl peered at him with wide purple eyes that almost matched the same hue as his. Her breathing slowed, and her loud sobs (finally) stopped. However, he knew better than to think she had calmed down, but at further glance she seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. Supposably humans call this ‘becoming breathless’ or something, but he has no idea what this feels, since he’s like, literally always breathless since he doesn’t need to breathe.
Well whatever it is, it’s pretty clear that she is absolutely petrified, probably because of him. Actually, he considers this an accomplishment for him, he tries hard to be menacing, and it seems like it actually works.
“Are you… a Harbinger?” the girl muttered, holding her legs that were covered in bruises close to her (seriously, what even happened to her?).
“Huh, so you recognize me. Good to know you aren’t completely clueless.” Scaramouche knelt down next to the girl who didn’t take her eyes off of him. To be honest, with the way she hasn’t blinked once while she practically stared into the soul he didn’t have, he was starting to believe that she wasn’t human.
“Please…” she spoke barely above a whisper, as her entire body shook with immense fear.
“‘Please’ what? Can you at least make an attempt to finish your sentences?” While he still equipped his words with venom, he also made a conscious effort in not raising his voice.
“Don’t-“ the girl began, pausing for a moment, leaving only her shaky breath that returned at some point to fill the silent closet. “Don’t… tell.”
“Don’t tell who?” The puppet sighed, becoming irritated with this child, still not knowing what to do with that unnerving wound on her arm.
“Please. Don’t…” her voice dropped so low that he could barely hear her. “Don’t tell The Doctor.”
Oh.
Oh.
The way this kid said that vile man's name made his heart drop so far that he forgot he never had one in the first place.
So this is what this is about. Fucking Dottore. Figures, he’s always out there finding some kid to experiment on. The fact that this was that ‘something’ Dottore was looking for was even more sick, the way that he thinks this child holds some sort of significance is disgusting. Honestly, he couldn’t care less for humans. But when Dottore gets involved, it honestly makes him tempted to kill that blue haired man.
This kid must’ve noticed the way his face became shrouded in anger, causing her to coil back in fear.
“I’m sorry.” She buried her head in the bloody palms of her hands, continuously repeating ‘I’m sorry’ over, and over, and over again.
“I’m not going to tell him.” Scaramouche glared at the girl, who quickly stopped apologizing when she heard him speak. “But, what are you even planning on doing when he does find you? You can’t just hide forever you know, you’re going to get caught, it’s inevitable.” She nodded, a pang of confusion merged with her fear.
“In…evit…able? ” She spoke each syllable slowly, not processing anything he had just said.
“He is going to find you soon if you stay here.” This is probably one of the only times Scaramouche was accepting of repeating himself. Eh, he may have worded it very harshly, but it’s true. The girl stared back at him with pure fear.
“Oh.” She murmured, her voice being a little louder than before, but still quiet enough where he struggled to hear her. “Please don’t tell him.”
“I’m not going to tell him.” Scaramouche replied. “But he’s looking for you, I think. You’re going to get caught soon.” The way his voice sounded uncharacteristically calm felt weird- especially since his plan wasn’t to be all nice and happy with this kid, infact, his original plan was to just kick whatever lunatic was having a tantrum in the closet, not change his whole damn personality.
“I…” she began to speak only briefly, only to stop talking immediately; what's with this kid and not finishing her sentences? “I know that.” Oh, so it seems like she can finish her sentences, good to know.
“Nice to know you have some common sense.” Scaramouche murmured, glaring at the wound on her arm. She stared back at him, her eyes fixed on his. Damn, this girl really is timid. Of course, it’s to be expected, she’s had to deal with The Doctor for who knows how long. “If you leave your wound like this you’re probably going to end up bleeding to death.” He began to reach for her arm, perhaps he could use some cloth to stop the bleeding. It’s not like Scaramouche really cares, but he’s got nothing better to do-
“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” The girl screamed, grabbing a glass bottle from one of the shelfs, and smashing it against his arm, shattering glass across the floor.
Well. He definitely didn’t expect that.
“Damn, calm down, I’m moving.” Scaramouche stood up, walking as far as he could to the other side of the closet (which was only like 3 feet away, but still). He takes that everything he thought about this girl before, she probably could be considered to be just as aggressive as him. The way the glass stabbed his skin stinged, causing him to slowly begin to bleed (technically it wasn’t blood, and instead was some weird mechanical fluid, but they basically look the same so who cares).
Yeah, he’s not helping anybody ever again.
Just when he was starting to be slightly nice(ish), this shit happened. It’s a good reminder why he stopped in the first place. Getting into other peoples business results in… well, whatever this is. Scaramouche harshly glared at the person who was on the floor. She stood up at some point, and equipped another glass bottle. He glared at her with the same stare he was giving the agents before; is she forgetting exactly who she is messing with? He could have her killed by The Tsaritsa if he wanted to. He could kill her if he wanted to.
The girl on the other hand seemed to have a crazed expression that was mixed with pure terror, to be fair, even he was unsettled by it, which is saying a lot. As much as he wanted to put this child in her place, the fact that the only reason she probably reacted like that was because of Dottore’s experiments made Scaramouche compelled not to. It’s not like he feels bad or anything, he’s way more superior than ‘feeling bad’. It’s just that it felt immoral? No, that’s the wrong word. Perhaps it just felt immature? Yes, he just didn’t want to be immature, that’s all. Reacting any other way would be childish.
“You can put down the weapon, I’m staying away.” The puppet watched as the girl’s face lost the whole blood-lust look, and instead looked scared? Sad? Maybe guilty? He swears, these human emotions are almost impossible to decipher. The girl loosened her grip on the glass, but didn’t make any efforts to put it down.
“I’m sorry.” Was all she could say. Her voice returned to that quiet, timid pitch. She should be sorry, attacking a Harbinger like that. He could have her dead if he really wanted to! Perhaps he should just say it’s fine, but he’s better than that. If an agent did that, their head would be chopped off. Scaramouche stared at the girl, deciding that he should probably break the silence after some time-
“Oh, my dear Collei, there you are.” Well, it looks like someone beat him to it. The opening of the door caused the green haired girl (who’s name is supposably Collei) to flinch. “My my, looks like your ruckus attracted some attention.” Dottore gave his typical phony smile that was enough to give anybody the creeps.
“It sure did.” Scaramouche said flatly.
“I…” Collei tried to speak, but was overwhelmed by fear, similar to how she was when she first began to speak to Scaramouche.
“I’m assuming you were a victim to her little… incident.” The doctor said, as he glared at the blood that ran down the puppets arm. Honestly, where did this kid find the strength to do this?
“I indeed was. You know Dottore, you should really find some time to teach your patients not to be so aggressive.” Scaramouche watched as The Doctor forcefully pulled Collei up by her arm, nodding as he acknowledged the sixth Harbingers words.
“That's quite ironic for someone like you to say.” Dottore softly laughed, as if he found his own ‘humor’ funny. “Well then, we’ll be off now. Next time you find one of my patients, I recommend alerting me immediately. Especially if it’s this little trouble maker.” Dottore waved as if he were being friendly, and walked away, practically dragging the girl who didn’t dare to fight back.
“I will.” Scaramouche also walked out of the room, waiting until Dottore was far enough so he couldn’t hear him. “Bitch.” He sneered, walking in the opposite direction as The Doctor. He doesn’t know where he is going, all he knows is that he wants to be as far away from that wretched blue thing as he possibly can.
He honestly hopes Dottore doesn’t do anything drastic to that kid, especially with her wound- actually, no, he takes that back. Not only would he never genuinely wish for good to come to a mortal, but also she literally made him bleed! She could die for all he cares, she’s Dottore’s problem now anyways.
But even then, during the next few days, Scaramouche found himself walking past Dottore’s lab every now and then, curious as to what ever happened to that girl.
What could have ever happened for him to act so unnatural?
“Perhaps Dottore changed my personality last time he re-programmed me.” Scaramouche murmured as he walked past the lab for the fourth time that day. “That pathetic blue weasle, of course he did something. There’s no way this happened to me naturally.”
Whatever it is, it’s definitely interfering with the whole stealing the gnosis and becoming a god thing he and Dottore planned, and he swears on every Archon in Teyvat, he is going to find a way to stop it.