Archive of Our Own

The Anemo Archon cannot get drunk.

Being a creature made pretty much entirely out of wind and elemental energy condensed (somewhat shoddily, he will admit) into a humanoid form, he doesn't really have the requisite organs and other systems needed to experience the effects of alcohol. Namely, he lacks a liver, given that he never really saw the point in giving himself one. Even if he did, who's to say it would actually work like a human's liver would and process the toxins in alcohol that give mortals that 'buzzed' sensation?

So, the Anemo Archon, Barbatos, Venti, has never actually been drunk before. It's been well over two thousand years by now that he's been waltzing around as a 'human', and while it's never bothered him before, he's also never made the mistake of mentioning it to Alice before.

"You have never gotten drunk?" She asked incredulously, looking far more shocked than he was expecting. "You? You, the God of Wine? You haven't? You?"

"Well, when you put it like that," Venti grouses, taking another sip of the tea Alice had shoved into his hands at the start of the conversation. "It's not really that big of a deal. I like the taste, and my people really seem to enjoy it either way, so."

Alice blinks at him, at a loss for words. "You."

"I think we have established by now that it's me, dear Alice."

"I just can't believe it!" Alice exclaims. "Do you… want to get drunk?"

Venti shrugs. "I mean, it would be fun? But I'm not particularly desperate for it, I suppose. I haven't really thought about it, since it's just not much of an option for me."

"It could be. I know a guy, you know."

"Alice, I hope you know it's very suspicious when you say things like that."

Alice leans in close, eyes sparkling in mischievous excitement as she grins. "Venti, I have an idea."

"Oh?"

Before he knows it, Alice is removing the teacup from his hands and pulling him away from the table, and in a moment they're standing inside of Albedo's office as the alchemist blinks at them in confusion.

"…Hello?" Albedo greets them hesitantly, eyes flicking from Alice to Venti and back again. "Can I… help you, Aunt Alice?"

Alice's grin widens. "As a matter of fact, you can. Albedo, darling, how feasible would it be for you to synthesize an alchemical solution that could get our Venti drunk?"

Albedo's eyes widen. "You want me to—?"

"I mean, if you can?" Venti asks politely. "I'll let you take notes if you can make it work."

"Yes," Albedo says instantly. "Ah. I mean, yes, I should be able to do something close to that. I can't promise perfect results the first time, as alchemy is a process requiring a good amount of trial and error, but I can't imagine it's impossible."

Holy fuck. Albedo can actually do it. Venti's really going to get drunk for the first time in his very, very, very long life.

"In fact, I should be able to put something together by tomorrow night," Albedo continues, humming to himself as he thinks. "I'm fairly certain I have all of the supplies and ingredients I'll need… alcohol consumption in humans and creatures with similar constitutions tends to affect both the mental and physical, inducing something of a state of lowered inhibitions and fine motor control. It shouldn't be too difficult to synthesize that in an elemental being. Although, I might need some of the equipment I left on Dragonspine. It's far more precise—"

"Say no more, it will be on your desk by nightfall," Alice promises. "Oh, Venti, aren't you excited? We could drink together for real!"

Venti laughs, a grin now spreading across his own face. Alice's glee really is infectious. "Technically, we already were — I'll just be feeling the same effects as you."

"I can acquire some dandelion wine from Dawn Winery as well for the authentic experience of drinking alcohol," Albedo offers. "I should be able to get some tomorrow to bring back here—"

"No need, we can just go to the Angel's Share like usual," Venti says, waving a hand. "A bar is where you go to get drunk, isn't it? And you always take notes in your notebook, so you can bring it with you and observe me."

Albedo considers this for a moment, and then nods. "Very well, we'll conduct the experiment at the Angel's Share. I will meet you there at dusk."

oOoOo

It isn't often that Albedo joins Kaeya and his usual friendgroup for drinks in the evening.

Given that he spends so much of his time on Dragonspine or otherwise engaged in his alchemical work, and his free time is usually needed for winding down from social interaction, Albedo isn't exactly a part of the usual crowd at the Angel's Share. Venti, Rosaria, and Dahlia can pretty much always be counted on to attend, even if only for a half-hour or so, but Albedo's presence is a bit of a treat.

Rosaria is at the end of the counter as usual, ready to make a quick getaway if she decides they're all getting too rowdy and she needs to pop outside for a smoke. Dahlia is beside her, ready to judge her for smoking (he always has a speech about 'indulging in a more holy vice like alcoholism instead of ruining the beautiful air' ready), and on Dahlia's other side, Venti is plucking out a jaunty tune on his lyre. Albedo sits between Kaeya and Venti with a drink of something nonalcoholic, which Kaeya can't blame him for. Going out with people like Venti and Dahlia is already entertaining enough as it is — for some, adding alcohol to the mix is simply a bit too much.

"A… windbloom cider, dandelion wine, and what was the third one?" Albedo asks, turning to Venti in the midst of ordering drinks.

"Oh, one of the apple meads," Venti says, waving a hand toward the middle shelf. "You're buying, you can pick."

Kaeya tilts his head in mild confusion, wondering how Venti managed to wheedle Albedo into buying him multiple different drinks tonight, but then again, he supposes it's not that strange. Venti usually likes to trade a drink for a song, so perhaps he took a few requests earlier and Albedo is simply paying him back now.

Diluc pours out three glasses, setting them all in front of Venti. The bard's back is turned to the counter as he chatters about something to Dahlia — some score of music a friend in Sumeru sent him? Kaeya didn't know Venti had Sumerian friends. Whoever she is, she sounds quite sweet, if she took all that time to hunt down a centuries-old book of music just because Venti wanted to learn some historical Sumerian tunes.

Albedo reaches for one of the drinks in a somewhat surreptitious manner, pulling it a bit closer to himself despite still having half a glass of his own cider left. Is he trying to get a sip while Venti's not looking? But no, he's taking a little vial out of his coat pocket and tipping a small portion of its contents into the drink. Kaeya watches, confused, as he proceeds to do the same to the other two drinks. He can't really tell what it is, but he would be shocked if Albedo were attempting to do anything to harm Venti. It's more likely that this is a prank of some kind — that vial probably contained salt or hot sauce or some other substance that would mess with the taste of Venti's drinks. It would explain why Albedo was buying, as well — Venti won't lose out on any money from ruined drinks if they were being bought for him.

As Kaeya muses over who could have put Albedo up to this, given how unlikely it is for him to come up with and then execute a prank like that all on his own (could it have been Klee and Diona?), Venti spins around on his barstool and reaches for the apple mead, knocking nearly the whole thing back in one go. Apparently, Albedo didn't add enough of whatever was in that vial to ruin the flavour, because Venti seems utterly unfazed, which makes Kaeya hold back a laugh.

Behind the bar, Diluc is making very pointed eye contact with Kaeya as Venti moves onto his second drink, gaze flicking to the three glasses for just a moment. He must have seen it too, then — odd, but probably not any cause for concern just yet, as long as they keep an eye on the situation.

"I should have apple mead more often, I always forget how much I like it!" Venti chirps, taking his third glass and draining it in moments as he hefts his lyre. "Dahlia, any song requests? Rosaria picked the last one, so now it's your turn."

"Mmmm… I don't know, something about adventuring?" Dahlia suggests. "Oh, do that one Cyrus likes! I can't remember the name, but you know the one I mean."

Venti laughs, beginning to pluck out the first few notes of a song Kaeya's sure he's heard before. "I certainly do!"

The tune begins slow at first, but gradually picks up speed, leading into something remniscient of a springtime waltz. Venti seems utterly focused on his instrument, preparing for the upcoming lyrics, and then—

He misses a note.

Venti, who has never touched a wrong string in his life, missed a note. The tavern is completely and utterly silent.

Venti's stopped playing, his tune petering out slowly as he stares down at the lyre, looking confused. Then, the lyre slips from his slackened hands and falls to the floor with a loud wooden clatter, and a moment later, Venti tips out of his seat to follow it.

Venti's on the floor. He's not moving.

"Is he fucking dead?!" Someone in the crowd whispers, sounding utterly horrified.

Venti lets out a hazy, chortling laugh from where his body is slumped on the floor, struggling to pull himself upright as his head lolls. At least he seems conscious, for now. "Hah, that's funny. Parum Ventus doesn't die."

"…Is that your full name?" Rosaria asks, brow furrowed. She's poised to get out of her seat, ready to help him, but her posture is still unsure — does he need help? What's even wrong with him?

Venti shakes his head very deliberately, the movement shifting his upper body enough to destabilize what little verticalness he had just regained. "Noooo. It's not that, kinda."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You," Venti says imperiously, doing his almighty best to puff out his chest as he looks up at Rosaria, "don't have the resque—res—resquits anatomy to say my full proper name."

Rosaria just stared at him incredulously, utterly unable to come up with a good response to whatever the hell Venti just said to her.

Kaeya is reeling.

Kaeya knows exactly what's wrong with Venti, and he can't believe it.

Albedo— he couldn't have. He did. Kaeya saw him do it. He saw Albedo tip that solution into Venti's drink while the bard was distracted talking to Dahlia. But how could he…?

"Albedo," Kaeya says quietly, and it feels like his voice is coming from far away, somewhere far outside of himself, from a body who can believe that one of his closest friends could ever do such a thing, "what did you do to Venti?"

The moment Kaeya says his name, Albedo freezes. There's a look of… of guilt on his face. He knows that Venti's condition is his fault.

Kaeya stands up. He doesn't want to do it. He doesn't want to have to do it.

"Albedo, I'm placing you under arrest by the Order of the Knights of Favonius on suspicion of unlawfully administering a controlled substance."

"…What?"

"You do not have to say anything," Kaeya continues, taking Albedo by the arm in an iron grip (not crushing, not painful — not when he still doesn't understand why), "but it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned, something that you later rely on in court."

"Wait," Albedo tries to interrupt, "wait, this isn't— there's a good explanation for this."

"I saw you put something in Venti's drink. I thought it was just something harmless for a prank, because that would be more likely than you drugging one of our friends," Kaeya cuts him off, tone leaving no room for argument. "But now Venti is on the floor, Albedo."

From the floor, Venti lets out a high-pitched laugh that sounds a little too much like tinkling bells for Kaeya to believe it came out of a human mouth — but that's not his point of focus right now. Dahlia and Rosaria have Venti, which means Kaeya needs to have Albedo.

"It was… consensual," Albedo tries, looking uncomfortable. "It was a consensual experiment, I had Venti's permission—"

"Experiment?" Diluc interrupts, raising one very judgemental eyebrow. "And does Venti look like he's in any state to corroborate that? Did you get him to sign some kind of proof that this was a 'consensual experiment'?"

"…Well, no—"

Kaeya pinches the bridge of his nose, still not letting go of Albedo's forearm. "You experimented on Venti and you have no proof that he gave you permission to do so? And you specifically added an unknown substance to his drink — multiple of his drinks, mind you, because I know all three of those were for him — while his back was turned?"

"…It sounds quite bad when you put it that way," Albedo mumbles. "But he did give his permission, and it was no unknown substance. It was an experimental solution combining alchemy and magic to—"

"Alchemy and magic?" Diluc repeats dubiously. "And you, what, just decided to feed that to the bard?"

"It wasn't fed," Venti interrupts, quite cheerfully, "b'cause it was drunk. Drunk a drink. You don't feed a drink. Silly Master Diluc."

Diluc stares down over the bar counter at Venti, who Dahlia is unsuccessfully attempting to remove from the floor. Every time the deacon manages to get ahold of him, he just slides right out of his grip and ends up in a green little heap between the barstools. Rosaria seems to be considering offering her assistance, but Kaeya honestly isn't sure if she would even be any help.

"I didn't—" Albedo starts, but Kaeya covers his mouth before he can continue, shaking his head.

"Albedo, I am telling you this both as your friend and as the Knight currently arresting you," Kaeya says. "Please shut the fuck up."

Albedo stares at him, looking like he has more to say, but thankfully he listens to Kaeya's very sound advice and keeps his mouth shut. He may have the right to remain silent, but whether or not he has the ability remains to be seen.

Kaeya pulls Albedo out of the Angel's Share by the arm, leaving Diluc, Dahlia, and Rosaria to handle the problem of Venti's limp body on the floor (and the horrified crowd that just witnessed him collapse and Albedo get arrested on the spot). Once the door shuts behind them, he turns to Albedo, face utterly serious without a trace of his usual charm and geniality.

"Albedo," Kaeya repeats, "I need you to know how bad this looks. There is no way to confirm whether or not Venti consented to the experiment until he's coherent enough to do so himself. I don't want to arrest you, but there is literally no other option right now without completely ignoring the laws that the Knights uphold, which is not an option given how public this all is."

Thankfully, Albedo doesn't try to argue or dig the hole deeper, instead nodding as his face twists into a grimace. No doubt he's fully aware of how this looks from an external perspective.

"And," Kaeya continued, "I do have to confiscate your Vision as part of the arrest. This is a temporary measure while you are being held in the Knights custody awaiting further investigation. It will be removed from your person, but not your vicinity, and it will be kept within the line of sight of your cell once we reach the Knights' Headquarters. A guard will be stationed in the room at all times, and neither you nor your Vision will be left unattended at any point."

Albedo nods again, unhooking his Vision from his clothing and hesitantly handing it over. "I understand."

oOoOo

Dahlia is going to lose his shit.

Maybe he's already lost it. God is in a heap on the floor and Dahlia does not know what to do here. Barbatos' teachings never advised him on how to handle Barbatos himself collapsing in the bar!

Albedo is being arrested in the middle of the first floor, but honestly, Dahlia can only pay so much attention to that. He's trying to get Venti off of the floor (no matter how much Diluc surely cleans it, it is fundamentally still a public floor in a bar and therefore not an acceptable or sanitary place to lay), though not very successfully. Venti is light, maybe weighing about as much as a few apples, but he's fucking slippery, too. Every time Dahlia gets a grip on him, he just slides right back down again, and Dahlia doesn't want to squeeze too hard because he has no idea what's wrong with Venti right now and he's a little worried about damaging him.

"Rosaria, please help me with him," Dahlia begs, gesturing to Venti as the bard once again slides slowly toward the floor with a hazy snicker. "Please. Rosaria. Rosie, please."

"Don't call me Rosie," she says reflexively, still staring down at Venti's half-contorted form. Dahlia doesn't think arms are supposed to bend like that. "What the fuck's wrong with him?"

Does Venti have bones? No, Dahlia doesn't have time to think about that right now. "I don't know, but I think we should take him to the church. Like, now."

Behind the counter, Diluc nods. "Barbara should still be there. If she's not, take him straight to Jean."

Dahlia nods. While Barbara and Rosaria may be yet unaware of Venti's identity, Diluc and Jean certainly know of it. If Barbara's healing can't fix whatever is wrong with Venti, Jean might at least know a little more about his physiology — plus, she has an Anemo Vision capable of healing, and that might be better than Hydro healing for someone like Venti.

Between Rosaria and himself, they manage to get Venti off of the floor and into Rosaria's arms in a bridal carry. Rosaria seems somewhat unnerved, likely by how unusually light he is, but she's quickly distracted by Venti reaching for a stack of napkins on one of the tables.

"I can't reach," he mumbles, sounding disgruntled. "Gimme. Gimme, please."

"Venti, why do you want the napkins?" Rosaria asks, but he doesn't even seem to register her words as a tiny thread of wind curls from his fingertips to bring the napkins right to his hands.

…Huh. Dahlia wasn't sure if he would still have the wherewithal to do stuff like that. Apparently he does.

"How can you still do that when you're off your fucking gourd?" Rosaria mutters. "You odd little bastard."

Venti, predictably, does not reply.

"We've got to take him to the Cathedral," Dahlia instructs. "Are you okay to carry him up there?"

Rosaria nods. "Yeah, sure."

"Hey. 'Saria, hey." Venti tugs on her habit, the fabric sliding through his fingers. "Ro-sa-ri-a. You wanna see something."

"Do I?" She mutters, which Venti apparently takes as an agreement.

He holds up the napkin and lets it float into the air as the winds take hold of it, minuscule threads of breezes fluttering its corners into perfectly folded lines as the flat, floppy paper slowly takes the shape of… some little bell-shaped creature?

"Venti, what the fuck," Diluc says from behind the counter.

Venti is utterly unfazed. "I'm out of napkin. Diluc, c'n I have another napkin? I ran out."

"You want to make origami out of the napkins," Dahlia says faintly. "You made origami using Anemo currents and napkins."

Venti furrows his brow. "I di'nt make orgomi. I made wisps. Little siblings. Lots of 'em… nine hundred and ninety nine. One thousand."

On the one hand, Dahlia wishes he had any clue what the hell Venti is talking about. On the other, he'd probably regret wishing that if it came true.

Diluc hands over a stack of napkins and practically shoos them out the door, which Dahlia can't blame him for. Clearly, he's had enough of people saying and doing weird shit in his bar for tonight. They need to take Venti to the Cathedral anyways, so hopefully giving him more napkins to do origami with will keep him occupied as they make their way up.

Dahlia will also admit that it takes an almost upsetting amount of elemental control to manipulate the winds on such a small, precise scale, especially when the elemental manipulator in question can't even keep his feet under him right now. Then again, he is the god of Anemo — there's a chance that whatever is wrong with him right now is only affecting his physical and mental state, but leaving his elemental abilities entirely untouched.

But Dahlia's no alchemist or healer, so really, he's got no fucking clue.

After a couple minutes, a handful of paper bell-creatures float around Venti's head, held aloft by soft breezes. By Dahlia's count, there are about five or six, dancing back and forth in the air.

"One," Venti mumbles, pointing to himself, "two, three… three… um. One, two… three… two, three… f-four…"

Is he trying to count the origami things? If he is, he's not doing a very good job. And… is he including himself in that number?

"'Saria, coun' for me," Venti orders, bringing one hand up to tap her nose. Dahlia's pretty sure he wasn't trying to smack her in the face, but he kind of did anyway. "Count wisp please, 'saria."

"I'm gonna assume you mean the origami napkins," Rosaria sighs. "One, two, three, four, five, six. There, six wisps."

"No! You missed one!" Venti points clumsily to himself, hand wavering even as the wisps continue to float around him with perfect precision.

"…Fine, seven. Are you happy now?"

"Mm-hmmmmm!" Venti brings a hand up to her face again, poorly attempting to pat her nose. "Ro…Rosi-a, I love my kids. Y're all so gooood…"

Rosaria stares down at him incredulously from behind the hand laid gently across her entire face. "What the fuck are you talking about."

"My children!" Venti says shrilly. "My chiiildreeeeeen…"

She glances over at Dahlia, as though he's going to have anything helpful to say about this. Unfortunately for her, most of Dahlia's mental capacity at this point is dedicated to keeping his face straight. It is not going well.

"You," Rosaria starts, casting another look at Dahlia, "have… children."

"I have the big-gest family," Venti proclaims. "I have… a mom kind of, and so many of the little siblings, and… umm…"

He starts attempting to count on his fingers, once again losing track after three or four and having to start again. If Dahlia doesn't interrupt him, there's a good chance he's about to admit to Rosaria that he considers every single Mondstadtan his child, which is not really conducive to him continuing to keep his identity as God a secret.

"Venti, I didn't know you had siblings," Dahlia says, attempting to get him onto a different topic.

Venti stops his counting, staring off into the middle distance for an uncomfortable amount of time before he turns to look Dahlia right in the eyes. "My big sister's dead."

"…Oh," says Dahlia, for lack of a better response. "That's… not good."

"Your what," says Rosaria.

"She was the biggest annnd… our mother tried t' make her not do the, the… stupid dead thing, b'cause it was stupid and gonna make her dead, but I would do the stupid dead-making thing and she was uncopper-uncomferat—unco-oper-a-tive anywaaay. So now she's dead and I'm the biggest."

Maybe it would have been better if Venti had just admitted he was Barbatos to begin with, because this is not what Dahlia was hoping for when he tried to get Venti to change subjects.

Rosaria is staring at him very hard again, like she thinks he can explain this in any capacity. He can't.

'Did his sister fucking kill herself,' Rosaria mouths, out of Venti's line of sight since the bard's head has rolled back to stare at the floating wisps again.

'Why do you think I know?!' Dahlia mouths back.

She stares at him some more.

Fair point.

He is kind of an expert on Venti in many ways, being one of his closest friends, but he still didn't know about the dead sister! Venti's been alive for at least, like, three millennia! How is Dahlia supposed to know everything that's happened in Venti's life during that time?!

An awkward silence falls over the trio, broken only by the occasional quiet giggles (that are almost bell-like in tone) from Venti as he watches the napkin-wisps spin about. They reach the Cathedral in a few minutes' time, and Dahlia holds the door open for Rosaria to carry Venti inside and lay him down on one of the cushioned pews.

"Oh, Sister Barbara, are you still here?" Dahlia calls, his voice echoing from the tall windowed walls and throughout the main chamber. "We've… got a bit of a situation that could use your help, if you please!"

A blonde head pokes out of the infirmary, and as soon as she sees Venti on the bench, she gasps and comes rushing over. "Is that Venti?"

Rosaria nods. "He's acting weird as hell and we have no idea what's wrong with him, but according to both Kaeya and Diluc, it was Albedo's fault in some capacity."

"Albedo's fault?" Barbara repeats.

"Apparently," Dahlia explains, "Albedo put something in Venti's drink while he wasn't looking, which Kaeya and Diluc both witnessed, and now, ah. Albedo is en route to the holding cells, and Venti's… like that."

Dahlia gestures to the bard laid out on the bench, taking note of how Venti is slowly, slowly rolling towards the seat's edge. Rosaria, who apparently took notice as well, grabs a handful of his clothing and carefully pulls him back away from the edge, an action Venti himself doesn't seem to notice in the slightest.

"Dahlia, can you tell me how long Venti's been feeling… um, like this?" Barbara asks gently.

Venti slowly turns to look at her, raising one outstretched finger to point directly at the center of her face. "Time. Y're all doin' it wrong. Gonna… gonna do it wrong. You don' know how t' time."

"Venti, I haven't said anything yet," Dahlia points out.

"Y're gonna do it wrong. All 'f you time wrong. All."

"He downed three drinks less than an hour ago and I think he's been getting steadily worse ever since he fell off his chair," Dahlia mutters to Barbara, leaning in with the hope that Venti won't notice what he's saying.

Barbara's eyebrows shoot up, disappearing beneath her bangs. "Only three?"

"Numbers are subjective!" Venti declares. "An' time on a clock's going the wrooong way. It's a ciiircle. Twisty, turny circle. Full of holes. Time circle with a hole… like soup. Dahlia, I want soup. C'n you… Dahlia, you soup me. Please now."

"…Rosaria, would you please see if we have any soup in the kitchen," Dahlia asks with a sigh.

"Yyyep. Holler if you need anything."

Rosaria walks away, honestly looking quite glad to be seeing the back of this situation. Dahlia kind of hopes she doesn't have to deal with it anymore, if only because Barbara might be getting a religious crisis tonight and he doesn't feel equipped to handle more than one of those at a time.

oOoOo

Barbara is not having a good evening.

She was having a good evening, until Dahlia and Rosaria brought Venti in. Not that she doesn't like them — they're perfectly nice people, even if they can all be a bit blashpemous at times.

But, well, it's the state that Venti is in that's making Barbara's evening this bad. Three drinks and an unknown substance (administered by Albedo of all people, according to two reliable eyewitness accounts), and now he's acting… well quite frankly, he's acting drunk. Absolutely blackout, shitfaced, off his gourd drunk. He's acting incredibly bizarre as well, to be clear, and saying baffling things beyond even his own usual standards, but mostly this is the behaviour that Barbara would expect from someone who's just soused beyond all reason.

But that's the thing, isn't it? Venti doesn't get drunk. In fact, in all the time Barbara's known of his existence, the sole constant is that he could drink enough for five people and not even be the slightest bit tipsy. So how, pray tell, could he have possibly gotten this intoxicated from three drinks?!

"This doesn't make any sense," Barbara mutters, one of Venti's arms slung over her shoulder as Dahlia struggles to get ahold of his other side. "Dahlia, just— you can't do it like that, you need to just grab him— there, now don't drop him."

"He's slippery," Dahlia complains under his breath. "What doesn't make sense?"

"Well, it's just— he's acting like he's drunk, but Venti doesn't get drunk! I just don't understand how three drinks could have brought this about."

"Three drinks and whatever Albedo poured into them all. I hate to say it, but, uh… there are some drugs that can manifest in similar ways…"

Barbara knows exactly what Dahlia is talking about, but it just doesn't seem plausible. Albedo, of all people? Besides that, the penalty for such a crime in Mondstadt is dire, and even knowing that as a member of the Knights, he still did it in full view of another Knight and Diluc Ragnvindr? Even if Kaeya hadn't arrested him, Diluc might've made a citizen's arrest after seeing someone attempt to drug another patron in his bar.

…Though, Barbara is very glad that Kaeya did take control of the situation, because Diluc may not have found it all that important to deliver him in one piece. Or to deliver him at all, given that it was a Knight committing the crime (and everyone knows how Diluc feels about the Knights of Favonius). That would have inevitably ended in Diluc being arrested, too, so Barbara is quite grateful that Kaeya was swift in his duties and got Albedo to the holding cells before Diluc took matters into his own hands.

"Let's get him into the infirmary," Barbara eventually decides. "We can lay him out on a bed in there so I can examine him — besides, that's where all of the medical equipment is, so."

Dahlia nods, scooping Venti up again (with some difficulty) and carrying him into the infirmary in something of a loose pile of bard. Venti doesn't seem to be attempting to escape, but he's not exactly helping Dahlia out either, and as a field medic Barbara is well aware of how hefty dead weight can be. Strangely enough, the little origami figures float after Venti in a loose trail, ferried along by a gentle breeze that follows in his wake.

…Are those made of bar napkins?

Nope, no time for distractions. Barbara grabs her usual medical kit out of the cabinet and opens it up, taking out the blood pressure cuff so she can start the triage process. She takes the stethoscope out as well, setting it aside as the next step.

"Hold out his arm for me?" Barbara directs Dahlia, who does as asked. Venti is laid out on one of the infirmary beds now, still looking just as floppy, but at least he's no longer laying on a bench on the main hall. Barbara wraps the cuff loosely around his upper arm, feeling around for the brachial artery as she passes the cuff's pump to Dahlia. "Hold this for a moment too, please."

Dahlia nods, taking the pump and waiting patiently as Barbara attempts to find the artery. The more the minutes begin to stretch on, though, the more concerned she's starting to get.

…Maybe she's doing this wrong. There doesn't seem to be a brachial artery, but that can't be right. Even if his pulse was faint due to whatever substance he ingested, it should still exist.

"Something wrong, Deaconess?" Dahlia asks hesitantly.

Barbara shakes her head, putting in the stethoscope's earpieces as she moves Venti's cloak out of the way of his chest. "Just give me a moment."

She places the end of the stethoscope on his chest, right over where his heart should be. What Barbara should be hearing is a heartbeat, but there's absolutely nothing. She moves it around a bit, wondering if perhaps her placement is slightly off, but still nothing.

She tries the other side of his chest. It's very uncommon, but she has heard of a medical condition wherein the placement of the internal organs was reversed, and she knows that can go unnoticed for years in some cases. It wouldn't surprise her if Venti somehow had that and it just hadn't been noticed yet.

Still nothing.

"Take that off and help me roll him over, I need to get to his back," Barbara orders, undoing the cuff and shoving the rest of it into Dahlia's hands for him to deal with. He does as she says, albeit with a very confused expression.

Venti, to his credit, is not protesting at all, and is simply letting them manhandle him. His attention does seem to be more on the little floating napkin things than the two people attempting to find his pulse, though.

Barbara tries the stethoscope one more time, unclipping Venti's cloak and moving it aside as she tries in vain to find his heartbeat. No matter where she places the stethoscope, there's absolutely no sound — if anything, she almost thinks she can hear the same emptiness as one would get by putting their ear up to a conch shell. Distant echoes of breezes, perhaps, but no heartbeat whatsoever.

"Dahlia, I can't find his pulse," Barbara stresses, tossing the stethoscope aside and clasping her hands in worry. "No matter where I put it, his heartbeat's just not there! I don't know if I'm doing it wrong, or—or what, but—"

"S'that what y'were lookin' for?" Venti asks hazily, rolling back over so he's facing the ceiling. "You should've said som'thing! I can do that. Put it back, put it back."

Barbara hesitates, but eventually picks up the stethoscope again to try one more time. This time, when she places the end of it on his chest, she can hear a heartbeat thudding gently in her ears.

It sounds… really bad. The rhythm is completely inconsistent, skipping beats and changing pace at random, even when Venti's breathing pattern isn't changing at all. Barbara does not have nearly enough formal medical training to help with whatever the fuck is going on here.

"Dahlia, stay here, I'm going to go get a licensed doctor," Barbara informs him, taking off her stethoscope and putting it back in the bag. "His heartbeat is a complete mess, I don't know what else to do!"

Venti lets out a loud groan of protest, tugging on her skirt as he rolls closer to the edge of the bed. Dahlia is prepared to catch him if he falls off, though Barbara really hopes it won't come to that. "Noooooo! I don'need a doctor! I don't even haaave the doctor stuff!"

Barbara's not even going to try and decipher what he means by that. She carefully unfolds his fingers and slides her dress out of his grasp, nodding to Dahlia as she heads for the door, but the moment she turns her back—

There's a loud thud from behind and a sharp gasp, and Barbara whips around to see Venti lying on the floor beside the infirmary bed, clearly unconscious.

"Oh, by Barbatos!" Barbara exclaims, rushing over to help Dahlia lift him up and get him back on the bed. "What happened? Did he hit his head? He was talking just a moment ago!"

"I don't know, he just went limp and the next thing I knew, he was on the floor!" Dahlia stresses. "I didn't even get the chance to catch him, he just slid right out of my hands!"

"What the hell happened?" Comes a voice from the doorway, and Barbara turns yet again to see Rosaria setting down a tray with a bowl of soup before rushing over to the bed. "Good lord, did you sedate him or something? Why is he knocked out?"

"I don't know!" Barbara says shrilly. "He, he wasn't fine, obviously, but he was conscious just a minute ago, and then all of sudden he—"

She gestures helplessly to Venti's limp body atop the bedsheets. Rosaria regards him with far more concern than she usually allows herself to show, momentarily reaching out to lift one of his hands and let it go, watching as it falls loosely back to the bed.

"Well, he's out good," Rosaria mutters. Barbara suppresses the urge to give her an exasperated look, because they do not have time for that right now.

"Should I— should I try and heal him?" She asks hesitantly, glancing at her Vision. "But I don't know if that might make whatever it is worse, with the elemental energy…"

Dahlia shakes his head. "No, Hydro won't do anything. Rosaria, you're probably the fastest out of us three — can you go to the Knights' Headquarters and get Jean? She might… have some more ideas on what to do."

Rosaria nods, vanishing in moments as she heads out the door.

Oh, God. What is Barbara supposed to do?! Venti could be dying, and they're not going to get a doctor here any faster than Rosaria will return with Jean, but until Jean gets here, is she meant to just stand around and do nothing? Isn't there anything Barbara can do right now that would be helpful?

"Um," Dahlia says, breaking her attention from the spiral of stress in her head as he points to something by Venti. "Do you think we should be worried about that?"

For a moment, Barbara thinks it's one of the little origami napkins that Venti had been surrounded by, but a closer look reveals that all of those seem to have drifted to the floor once their creator lost consciousness. No, this little thing is far more detailed and ethereal, practically dripping Anemo energy as it approaches cautiously from the window and nudges Venti's head with a quiet bell-like chime.

"It can't be," Barbara whispers, but right before her eyes appears another, and another. "Dahlia, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"If you mean the little glowy handkerchief creatures, then yes," Dahlia confirms, eyes just as wide as Barbara's must be right now. "What are those?"

Wind sprites.

The Thousand Winds haven't been seen in millennia, and now here they are, appearing before the Deacon and Deaconess… to prod nervously at an unconscious bard in the infirmary. With each passing moment that they receive no response, they seem to grow more and more worried, sounds increasing in pitch and volume as they try fruitlessly to wake Venti.

"The wisps haven't been seen in two thousand years, at the very least," Barbara murmurs. "I've seen illustrations before, but I never thought…"

"These are wisps?" Dahlia asks incredulously. "Like, siblings of the Anemo Archon, invisible spirits of the Thousand Winds— those wisps?"

Barbara nods.

There are about a dozen or so now, possibly more, though it's hard to count with the way they're all flitting about. Honestly, those few members of the Church who have read about them in the old tomes mostly believe them to by mythical. Even Barbara herself will admit that she often wondered if the Thousand Winds were ever real, or just a figment of legend, or an author's imagination, meant to bring life to an inanimate phenomena like the winds.

Dahlia whips around, pointing at the wisps with a very particular expression on his face. "Barbara, you remember what I told you about him? Multiple times?"

"What—?"

"Do you believe me now?"

What did Dahlia—

…No.

There's no fucking way.

And yet.

"You must be joking," Barbara says faintly, but even to her own ears it sounds wrong. There's no way to deny it. She's seen the statue outside of the Cathedral enough times to remember its face, and no matter how much she wishes she could forget it right now, when she looks down at Venti's closed eyes, it's all she can see.

The face of her god, surrounded by wind sprites that were thought to be things of legend until just a few minutes ago — spirits once called the siblings of the Anemo Archon.

And they're here for Venti, because Venti… is Barbatos.

"I think I need to sit down," Barbara mumbles, and before she knows it, Dahlia has ushered her into a chair beside one of the open windows, where the breeze can ruffle her pigtails.

Venti is Barbatos.

Venti is the Anemo Archon. The god she's dedicated her life to upholding the ideals of is the bard she once had banned from the church for breaking a holy artefact that belonged to Barbatos… who is Venti. It was his lyre. Venti broke his own lyre and she banned him from his own house of worship.

Oh, God. Barbara banned the Anemo Archon from his own church.

Oh, God, the Anemo Archon was poisoned!

"Dahlia, this is the worst thing that could possibly happen to anyone ever," Barbara says weakly, unable to tear her eyes away from Venti's, her god's, unconscious body. "Dahlia, the Anemo Archon has been poisoned and I can't fix it!"

"That was quite a jump," Dahlia mumbles, barely audible, before his voice takes on a more normal volume. "Jean is on her way, okay? She'll be able to help, and even if she can't, she should at least have a better idea of what to do. Just sit tight and wait for Jean to get here, and everything will be fine."

Barbara nods, glancing out the window to try and calm herself down a bit with the breeze against her cheeks. Jean will be able to fix it. Oh, no wonder Dahlia said that Barbara's Hydro wouldn't be able to help, he's the Anemo Archon! But then, would Jean's Vision healing do something, because of her Anemo alignment? How can Barbara be so unable to do anything for her literal God?

She waits in silence for a few moments before an odd sound catches her attention — one of the bell-voices belonging to one of the sprites is sounding slightly different from the rest. More solid, less… incorporeal. Barbara pauses her ruminations and looks over at the cluster of wisps, only to see Venti sitting up, perfectly lucid as he makes the same bell noises back at his siblings while a handful of them rub against his face and hands in obvious relief. He's got the bowl of soup in his lap from across the room — when did he even have time to grab that?

"Venti?!" Barbara exclaims, and he jolts and nearly spills his soup all over himself, clearly having forgotten there was anyone else in the room.

"…Ah," he says lamely, attempting to surreptitiously shove the dozen or so wind sprites behind him as his gaze flicks between Dahlia and Barbara. The wisps are, as expected of wisps, being wildly uncooperative. "Um. I don't suppose you can just… forget you saw them, could you?"

oOoOo

When Kaeya comes into Jean's office long past when he should have left work and gone home, it's immediately a cause for concern.

Oh, she knows perfectly well that he often does work-related things after hours, be it finishing paperwork or following leads, but he never comes to her until the next day — something about how Jean 'should be utilising the normal hours of a workday and not living in her office like some kind of workaholic hermit', The only time he chooses to seek her out in her office after-hours is if he's either trying to drag her out and force her to take time off, or if there's an emergency that can't wait until tomorrow.

"Captain Kaeya," Jean begins hesitantly, setting down her pen and moving the stack of reports aside, "is there something I can help you with?"

Kaeya doesn't respond immediately, which is an even bigger red flag. When he does, his voice is serious, far more than Jean is comfortable with. "Captain Albedo has been arrested."

Jean stares at him for at least a solid thirty seconds before responding. "…I beg your pardon?"

"Captain Albedo has been arrested," Kaeya repeats, "for spiking someone's drink in full view of both myself and Master Diluc."

"What?"

"He's in the holding cells right now, I've got D'artagnan guarding him and his Vision. Jean, as much as I would love to believe that Albedo would never do something like this, I saw him with my own eyes. I suspect there is more to the situation than one might think, but… due to how public it was, and the fact that Albedo could muster no provable defense, I didn't have much of a choice but to take him in."

"Right," Jean replies, head reeling as she struggles to reconcile what Kaeya has just told her. Albedo has never seemed like the type who would do such a thing, but to have something like this happen so soon after the murder trail business… "You said he's in the holding cells? I should go and have a look."

Kaeya nods. "Good idea."

As Kaeya leads the way out of Jean's office and down to the basement, she goes over the events in her mind as Kaeya gives her a more detailed run-down of the situation. Albedo had claimed it was part of an experiment, which would make sense, but was unable to produce any paper trail or consent forms to prove it. The target of the unknown substance had downed three glasses in short succession, all of them tainted, and had then collapsed less than a minute later.

"And it couldn't have been the result of the alcohol?" Jean presses. She knows Kaeya must have thought of it already, but she's reaching for something, anything, to give any clue as to how this could possibly have an innocent explanation.

Kaeya barks out a laugh, then quickly shuts his mouth, clearly trying to keep as much of his composure as possible. "I assure you, this person wouldn't have gotten drunk off of that amount, nor that quickly. This wouldn't have even been enough to make him tipsy."

Well, this is Mondstadt, so that does make sense. Still, it doesn't escape Jean's notice that Kaeya is rigidly following the proper procedures to an almost aggressive degree. With one of his close friends being involved in this situation — and being the perpetrator, no less — she can only imagine how upset he must be, much less the lengths he's going to in order to try and stay professional.

On top of that, given that it was Albedo who was involved here, Jean can't discount the possibility that this is another doppelgänger situation like before. While she was under the impression it was all resolved, it's not completely out of the question that something could have slipped through the cracks.

Normally, this is the kind of thing that Jean would ask Albedo to investigate, or maybe Kaeya if Albedo was unavailable. Unfortunately, that's not really going to be an option under these circumstances.

Once they reach the holding cells, D'artagnan gives them both a nod before stepping outside the door for privacy purposes, leaving Jean and Kaeya as the presiding guards in his stead — though he still holds the key to the cells, tucked safely in his belt pocket. Albedo had been laying on the bench in the holding cell, staring at the ceiling, but he sits up and dusts himself off as he notices their arrival.

"Grandmaster, I promise I have a good explanation for this," Albedo begins, and Jean can't help but note the way Kaeya's expression pinches slightly at the phrase. "If I could call Aunt Alice for a moment, then she—"

But Jean shakes her head, sighing apologetically. "I'm sorry, Albedo, but we need to get all the facts straight before anyone starts sending any messages. I've heard Kaeya's eyewitness account of what happened, and now I'd like to hear yours."

Albedo sighs as well, looking pained. "I know I didn't get Venti to sign anything, but—"

"Wait." Jean holds up a hand, cutting him off. "Did you say Venti?"

"…Yes."

Kaeya's expression has grown even more pinched.

"Albedo," Jean says slowly, "you drugged Venti?"

"I wasn't expecting it to metabolise that fast," Albedo mutters. "I was— Venti had been talking to Aunt Alice about, ah, not really getting drunk or feeling the effects of alcohol like most of the friends he drinks with, and she had asked if I could… lend a hand, so to speak."

"Venti is friends with Alice?" Kaeya mumbles to himself, then shakes his head. "Nevermind, I don't know why I was even surprised. Of course he is."

"Albedo, continue, please," Jean prompts.

"Well… it was supposed to replicate the effects of alcohol to a higher degree, I suppose. Make it something that Venti could experience with only a few drinks. I think I need to tweak the potency a bit in the next trial—"

"No, there will be no more trials, Venti collapsed," Kaeya interrupts. "He had to be taken to the Cathedral, Albedo, there will be no more trials."

Jean has a feeling that Albedo is attempting to leave a few details out for the sake of Kaeya's peace of mind (in that no one here really wants Kaeya to know about Venti's identity, least of all Kaeya), but at least he's given her enough context to figure out that Venti will probably be fine.

Albedo sighs yet again. "Venti will be perfectly fine, I know for a fact that he can metabolize the solution completely with no lasting effects. In fact, it's likely already worn off by—"

Before he can finish his sentence, the door opens and Rosaria bursts into the room, D'artagnan standing behind her having obviously allowed her through. "Venti fucking passed out in the Church and Dahlia said to come get you."

She points to Jean, who's out the door in an instant.

"Kaeya, the interview is concluded, I'll be back as soon as I can," Jean states, gesturing for D'artagnan to return to his post as Kaeya follows her and Rosaria up the stairs. "You wait here, start on the incident report if you can while I go and check on Venti."

Kaeya nods. Jean can practically see the stress and tension oozing out of him, but unfortunately, she just doesn't have the time to calm him down right now, not if Venti could be in immediate danger.

Jean dashes after Rosaria up the stairs to the Cathedral, staying close on her heels despite the other's quicker speed. She knows for a fact that Rosaria won't slow down for her, so Jean is running as fast as she can, bolting up the steps and through the church's main hall until they reach the infirmary.

When they get there, Venti is… sitting up, looking perfectly fine, with a half-empty bowl of soup in his lap and about two dozen wind sprites flitting around him.

"…I see you've improved," Jean says, for lack of a better greeting. "Care to tell us what happened tonight?"

Before he can answer, though, Rosaria points at him almost accusingly, having stared at the wind sprites for a solid minute before some kind of recognition had clicked in her face. "You're Barbatos."

Venti gives her a sheepish grin as Dahlia throws his hands in the air, looking utterly exasperated.

"I had to tell Barbara a dozen times and she never believed me, and now you just put it together in a few minutes after seeing the wisps!" Dahlia exclaims. "I've had it, I'm going to bed!"

"No, hold on, I'd still like to know what the hell you were talking about earlier with your dead sister," Rosaria counters, grabbing Dahlia by the head before he can walk out the door. "Wouldn't you like an explanation too, Deacon?"

Venti grimaces, sipping from the bowl of soup in an obvious bid to avoid answering. "…I was hoping you'd forgotten about that."

As much as Jean would love to know what the hell they're talking about (since when did Venti have a dead sister?), she does have a more pressing matter to attend to. "Before you get into that, Venti, I need to know if you gave Albedo permission to include you in an experiment involving—"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, I told him he could do that," Venti says breezily. "Where is he, by the way? I thought he'd want to be taking notes."

"He was arrested because he drugged you in a public bar and couldn't prove it was an innocent experiment," Rosaria says drily.

Venti gasps, looking upset. "Arrested? He hasn't done anything wrong!"

"It did kind of look like he was trying to drug you for untoward purposes," Dahlia admits, "but I doubt he's going to be kept for much longer now that we have your testimony. Right?"

The last bit is directed at Jean, who nods. "Of course. The main issue was that it was a public place and he couldn't prove his intentions — if he hadn't been arrested, then there would be concerns of bias and corruption within the Knights. We are still privy to the same laws as everyone else, even if we're meant to be upholding and enforcing them as well."

Venti sighs, setting aside his now-empty bowl and standing up. "Well, if that's all resolved, then I think I'll be going now. I've given my siblings quite a scare, you see, so I really ought to go and calm them down."

"Your siblings are fine, you little bastard, you're just trying to escape the awkward conversation," Rosaria accuses, but Venti is hopping out of the open window and vanishing on the breeze with a cheeky wave before she can do anything to stop him.

At least it turned out to be a harmless experiment in the end, but Jean really wishes it hadn't caused quite so much stress for everyone involved — especially poor Kaeya.

oOoOo

A day or two later, after being halfheartedly scolded by Jean for attempting to conduct experiments in a public bar and causing a panic, Albedo finds himself being pulled aside by a somewhat apologetic Venti as he's leaving the solitary confinement room.

"I know I said you could do this experiment," Venti starts, "but I don't think I actually like being drunk. So… maybe we could just leave it at the one trial, and call it a day. I'll chase Alice off if she tries to poke you about it."

Albedo is somewhat disheartened, but nods regardless. He had really been looking forward to it, but he can see how the feeling of being drunk might have read quite oddly to someone who's used to being near-omniscient at all times due to his connection with the winds. He'll simply have to come up with another way to convince Venti to participate in his experimentation — if he did it once, he can surely do it again.