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Sandrone had quite the day today. As a researcher, failure was something that was of course inevitable to her and she was no stranger to it.
But god.
Today felt like an incredibly horrible chore to her. She sat in the filth of her failures–still attempting to salvage her time today by even succeeding once. Sandrone carefully screwed in the last part with a sigh as she gave it a power source and just hoped for the best…
Only to experience the most catastrophic failure that day.
The experiment caught fire and sparked into small explosions, burning Sandrone’s hand in the crossfire, by instinct she used her cryo vision to put out the physical fire–but the fire in her head was just beginning. Her ears still rang with pain as the loud noise reverberated.
She was seeing red as this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sandrone went to the lab doors to lock them and well; she decided to let off a little steam.
Sandrone grabbed a porcelain doll and threw it against her vanity mirror–shattering both of them in the process. She looked at herself in the shattered pieces of mirror, her burn, her indignant expression and the violent way her chest rose and fell.
She did not have an affinity for healthy coping mechanisms, she was a harbinger for god’s sake–but even these thoughts of brutality were extreme for her.
Sandrone felt like she was spiraling in a whirlpool with no hopes of escaping, but here came the hard part, informing the Knave she was experiencing nothing but catastrophic failure here in Fontaine. She was sure that she would be nothing but disappointed and would admonish her like a common agent.
“Katheryne…” Sandrone was so often cooped up in her lab, she used her Katheryne system to spy on the world and see what was happening, or in this case she would make a letter to the Knave that she was going to be visiting her tonight. Hopefully one of her children would see it on the counter–but she would be going there either way. “There.” The handwriting was far from pretty, it was quite hard to control her arms or hands even with all her experience doing this in the past.
Sandrone got herself ready, even in her turmoil she wanted to look as posh and put together as possible. It did not take much trouble to hide her burn, since she usually covered herself up with gloves and long sleeves. She put on some red lipstick, pinned down some flyaways and then made for the hotel. Sandrone knew that she was invited to stay there in the suite with Arlecchino, but her work in Fontaine was lucrative and she did not mind sleeping in the lab or being sleep deprived.
The streets of Fontaine even served to overstimulate her–the voices and laughing and the sounds of street performers made her want to freeze them all–into permanent dolls on the street. She needed to get out of public fast before she snapped and compromised the mission and her anonymity in Fontaine.
Sandrone was practically bruising her fingers as she walked to ground herself–she hated everything about this but all she wanted to do was get this stupid meeting over with and then mutilate all her failures in her lab.
Sandrone opened the door to the hotel with a sigh as it was comparatively quiet as compared to the streets outside that felt like that same explosion in her lab earlier that day.
“Excuse me.” Her voice was all but upset, like a whisper of wind through a willow tree. “I have a meeting with the Knave.” The receptionist’s eyes widened upon seeing her, even if she was fatui herself. She was told two harbingers would be here but she had only seen the fourth.
She did not except the seventh to be well…This beautiful and innocent looking.
“Of course my lady.” The receptionist handed her an engraved key with the room number. “Please make yourself at home.” She bowed and Sandrone simply nodded her head to acknowledge her.
Now came for this; what she was dreading.
Telling the Knave she was a failure.
Sandrone wandered the halls–going to the top floor where the suites were located. Did it have to be this hidden though? She thought the Knave was more than capable of handling threats. She put the key in and turned it with a scoff as she was finally at the end of her line.
Yet.
It felt like her life had begun all over again when she walked into the room.
“Hey Doll. It’s rare you reach out to me.” Arlecchino’s suite definitely did not disappoint. The old style of Fontaine architecture and more room than she knew what to do with probably. “So I hope you don’t mind that I prepared something for this meeting, since it's a special occasion with you calling it and all.” Arlecchino had wine brought up and a charcuterie board for them to share. Sandrone felt a foreign feeling completely wash over her–this was not home but it certainly felt like she was coming home after a long day.
Sandrone did not even tell her feet to move but she was already moving toward the Knave like she was being magnetized towards her. Before she could even stop herself she put her head on the Knave’s chest and wrapped her arms around her waist and up her back to bring her closer.
“Doll?” Arlecchino sounded taken aback–this was completely out of character for her. Showing affection? Using allocated meeting time she prepared to just embrace her? Arlecchino could not complain though. “Is something the matter?” Arlecchino put her arms around Sandrone’s waist, resting them on her hip bones and the layers of her skirt.
“Everything I did today for the mission, it failed.” Sandrone took a deep breath as she listened to Arlecchino’s heartbeat, how it was faster than normal since she was sure she was surprised by this sudden affection. “I wanted to discuss how this would affect you.”
“Don’t feel bad. Plan A is going swimmingly.” Arlecchino pressed her lips to the crown of Sandrone’s head to comfort her as best she could. “Your intel has been very useful for the plan as well.”
“It does not change the fact I am a failure and disgrace.” Sandrone’s voice faltered in a way Arlecchino could only recall once before–when one of her Katherynes were destroyed in Sumeru. She felt the unnatural breaths Sandrone took in her arms as she let herself be vulnerable.
Sandrone was crying.
The room fell totally quiet as Arlecchino realized just how much today had upset her, to the point of the rare tears she would shed in front of someone.
Arlecchino usually scolded people for crying–since it showed weakness and it would only hurt them. But this might change her point of view afterall. People could cry with her, but she would not hurt them like others might take advantage of them.
“I’m sorry for wasting your time today.” Sandrone only held tighter as time went on and her emotions felt more intense than what she could handle for the day–she just wanted something, someone to let her know it would be ok.
“I would not call it that.” Arlecchino said. “I missed you doll.” Arlecchino could nearly feel the smile on her chest as Sandrone did take pride in that, making someone covet her time when most called her unbearable.
“I’m tired of standing.” Sandrone mumbled into her chest–but Arlecchino could already tell that by how all her weight was in her arms.
Sandrone did not need to say another word as Arlecchino picked her up with ease, she put her hands under her thighs and lifted her up, Sandrone’s legs wrapping around her waist and her arms around her shoulders.
Arlecchino sat on her bed next to the tray of food and wine she had prepared in anticipation of her lover. Sandrone placed her hands on her shoulders so she could look at her.
“You look tired.”
“I am tired.” Sandrone’s eyes looked desperate to rest, and Arlecchino did not mind taking an evening off to help her partner rest so it would increase her productivity.
“Sleep, we still have meeting time after all. No one has to know what we use it for.” Arlecchino smiled as Sandrone kissed the corner of her mouth; and well…Everywhere really.
Her lips gently caressed each part of Arlecchino’s face, her act of thanks as it was a tough day and she received serenity with the Knave. She left lipstick marks on her cheeks, mouth and nose as she trailed down and her lips brushed against the crook of Arlecchino’s neck.
And there they stayed.
“Doll?” All Arlecchino got in response was a little snore and her shifting in her lap as her arms became like ragdolls. Seemed Arlecchino really underestimated just how tired she was as it took mere minutes for her to fall prey to her fatigue in her arms.
Arlecchino did not mind; she actually found it quite endearing that she let her guard down so much around her.
One thing was for sure though.
If someone were to walk through that door and wake Sandrone–they would definitely not leave without a scolding and a cut on the cheek.