Chapter one - Yes, merely half a day.
“So, what are we doing now that we have only half a day off?” The child sighed, stretching their arms. “We should all fight!” A ginger male perked up, smiling brightly. “Tartaglia, you couldn’t possibly think of sparring a child, could you?” A cyan haired woman scoffed, squinting at the young male. “Hey- They asked, I delivered!” Tartaglia spoke in his defense, crossing his arms. “I’d beat your ass any day.” Jong Chue snorted, cracking their neck.
“Yeah, right!” “Childe, I was recruited into the fatui by you because you saw me absolutely demolish 3 lawachurls by myself with a beginners protector.” Jong Chue swung their legs, their shorter, stubbier legs unable to reach the floor from the couch. -it was designed for taller people, specifically adults, but archons, was it tall.-
“Well, duh! The fatui could use someone of your uh. Strength. And of your height! Do you know how difficult it is to get stuff done without the tiny leprechaun that the balladeer was?! He would probably lead you to a pot of gold if you trapped him in a tissue box!” Tartaglia snickered.
Jong Chue wheezed out quietly. “A pot of gold is crazy to be honest.” They giggled, kicking their legs rapidly. "But honestly, there's nothing really to do when we're not working rather than sleep and eat." Tartaglia huffed in thought, brows furrowing.
"You make it sound like we work a dead end job." Pantalone, still as proper as ever-from his posture to his sitting stance to even the way he talks-, shook his head. "Well, you don't do much except sit in your secret little office in Northland Bank, doing paperwork up in there like a hermit. I don't think you have much room to talk, as most of us go out and get our hands all dirty." Tartaglia side eyed him, drumming his fingers against the couch.
"You should watch how you speak to me, Ajax. You wouldn't want your funding cut, would you?" The regrator smiled, interlocking his fingers together.
"Like either of you go out! Tartaglia, all you do in Liyue is go on dates with that funeral consultant. Spending money foolishly on such stupid things. Remember those 10 thousand mora chopsticks you don't even know how to u-" "That's nice thank you for the input but please be quiet now." Tartaglia spoke quickly, cutting off Jong Chue. "Embarrassing." They snorted, leaning back into the soft furniture.
Two white little birds woke up on their lap, beeping profusely. One made a scoffing noise in the direction of Tartaglia. In response, the ginger simply gave a death glare to the chubby avian, as it squeaked and scooted closer to Jong Chue.
"Oh, Dottore, what's with that 'top secret project' you've been working on?" Tartaglia turned to the masked doctor, whose arms remained crossed and lips pressed into a fine line. "I don't think that's any of your business." "Aw, doctor, why so grumpy today?~" Damselette hummed softly, laying her head comfortably on her armchair. The doctor simply clicked his tongue.
"I could have been in the lab and continued work happily," The 'happily' was growled out. "But I had to be at this foolish funeral for a coworker that has already been replaced with someone who isn't as weak and will not fall to the hands of a mourning archon, so why bother?" The light blue haired man asked rhetorically, as he leaned his head against his palm.
"Aww, are you saying the little loach is strong? How flattering." "Do not twist my words." Damselette giggled as her slim fingers covered her pink lips. "Don't be embarrassed. Are you simply stiff because we all don't come around each other and actually interact outside of work? Because you're all huddled up in your lab with those.. Feral clones?" She shuddered at the mention of the clones.
Dottore's clones were.. Odd. To say the least. The one with that clown mask especially. He's unhinged or something. "Archons, those things disturb me to death." Tartaglia groaned, scowling at the thought of them. "Then die. You all are overreacting– They're not that bad." "Yeah, if you're a nutcase named Il Dottore!" Jong Chue spoke up in the conversation.
"Nutcase isn't quite an appropriate word. Perhaps 'mental' is a better term." Pantalone chuckled softly, shoulders rising and falling. "Regrator, you sure talk a lot with that pompous gait of yours." The doctor scoffs, razor sharp teeth showing. "Quit arguing like slightly civilized animals. Jong Chue," Said child perked up at the deep voice.
Capitano, not the strongest– But certainly the tallest of the harbingers, spoke up after staying silent during the whole 'professional bickering'. "How is the Mondstadt mission going?" He rumbled out. "Oh, it's great. This guy and his floating pet are really nosy though. That thing that follows him around makes me so irritated." They groaned, propping their head on their hands.
"Their names are like, Gayther and Peemon or something. Honorary knight and his annoying pet." Tartaglia let out a choked noise at this. "Aether and Paimon?!" He yelled, Jong Chue jumping. "Yeah! That's what their names are." "What are you doing in Mondstadt, though? I thought our business was finished there! The gnosis was already taken, they banned us– What do we have there?" Tartaglia asked, squinting his eyes.
"The gnosis and Dvalin situation damaged the fatui's relationship and reputation with Mondstadt, so by this logic, our reputation with the Dawn Winery, which has already been tarnished with it's heir, Diluc Ragnvindr, no thanks to Dottore- Our economic ties with Mondstadt is simply terrible." Pantalone explained, adjusting his glasses. "Why in the 7 nations of Teyvat would we care about our economic ties with Mondstadt?” Tartaglia quirked a brow.
“The larger the economic ties we have with all 7 nations, the better. Better relationship, bigger pay. Or something like that.” Jong Chue shrugged. “I’m not really a finance person.” “Yeah, I can definitely see that.” They could practically feel the side eye radiating from Tartaglia. “Childe, you can side eye me all you want, but you’re still gonna be a side piece.” Jong Chue snorted, smirking.
“Yeah, whatever you say, kid.” The freckled man scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Our half day isn’t even long. Counting the funeral and this, we don’t even have much time to do anything.” Jong Chue sighed, petting the finches hopping around on their lap. A sand haired girl simply nodded. “I can’t help but agree. But, as harbingers, even as faithful servants to the Tsaritsa, it is to be expected.” She sighed, shaking her head.
“Sandrone’s right. Serving her majesty directly is no easy task, and certainly not one to slack in. Because some of us take our job seriously.” Capitano agreed, his baritone voice vibrating in his chest. “..I feel like that was directed towards someone.” Tartaglia spoke quietly after a moment of silence. "It was to you, Shartaglia Ajack Children." Jong Chue snickered at the silly nickname they gave him, the finches on their lap making beeping noises that sounded like laughing.
"I'm going to murder those birds." The blue eyed male scoffed. "Don't talk about Dottie and Pants like that." "What." Pantalone deadpanned at the child, crossing his arms. "They're like you and Dottore except they fight way less and they don't deny being queer." Jong Chue swung their feet, patting the small birds. "You can't be serious about the names..?" Dottore leaned closer to them, mouth formed to a soft frown.
"Meh. Started off as a joke. I've grown attached to it though." They laughed, the one with specks, -likely Dottie- flying up to their shoulder. "I, for one, think it's a bit funny. It's not like they're wrong." Damselette smiled, eyes closed as she leaned on the armrest of her soft chair. "What?! No- Why in Teyvat would you think that?" Pantalone flushed slightly, dark red seeping onto his tan features.
"Don't act all innocent, Regrator. We all know what happens in your private chambers. We don't care, but please, dear. Keep it down at night." The girl spoke, brushing her curly locs behind her ear. "...But not too quiet. I don't feel like walking in on you two shoving your tongues down each other's throats." She added after a moment, a woman with red 'x' pupils smirking over at them. "Arlecchino, you're acting as if you and Colombina are any different!" Pantalone narrowed his eyes at the androgynous harbinger, as she chuckled.
"Need I remind you of what I heard just last night? You haven't forgotten our chambers neighbor each other, no? Because what I heard last night sounded a lot like-" "I think I know very well what happened, since I was there." Dottore interrupted the woman, Crossing his legs. Jong Chue watched this go down sleepily, laying their head down on the armrest of the couch.
Damselette was humming softly, watching the drama she began unfold. The child recongnized it as the same tune at the funeral. It was a nice lullaby, as they blinked slowly, but still awake. "Is my humming tiring you, loach?"
She softly spoke, smiling at the child. It was a genuine gesture– Rather than her usual sinister or manipulating smile, it was a genuine action. At least, Jong Chue thought. They can't tell stuff like this very well.
"Ahah, yes. It does that. It's alright, you can rest." She patted their soft hair, and gently stroked the little finches head as well. She continued to hum, drumming her nails against the seat.
Their breathing slowly grew more soft and rhythmic, the arguing and such only becoming background noise as they drifted off, likely to be shaken awake and be notified when the half day is over, and they must get up and get back to their work. But now, all they have to do is listen to the soft voice of the uncaged dove, one that could likely crumble gods, yet possesses such a harmonious voice.
And drifting off into a dreamless sleep, filled with music and darkness, Jong Chue can find comfort slipping into.