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sparkysxi · 9 months

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Signora's Coffin is from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor

here you guys go, the glorious harbinger crackfic that I've been sitting on since winter nights lazzo came out and haven't posted.

ao3 link (see for tags): https://archiveofourown.org/works/49167907

word count: 3k

Summary: Childe has the worst day of his life on a field trip to Wangsheng Funeral parlor with the rest of the Harbingers.

Childe wasn’t entirely sure how’d the others would react to…this.

He could only stare at the remains of the fallen Signora and the packaging that they had been stuffed in by Tenshukaku. It was a long boat ride home, but the Tsaritsa wanted her beloved Signora returned home for a proper burial, and since there hadn’t been much in terms of leads on Scaramouche-the bastard-he could be dispatched to escort a fellow warrior to her final resting place. Of all the other Harbingers, he at least considered Signora to be loyal to the Tsaritsa alone as well.

What a mess.

His attendants tried desperately to convince him to at least place her in an urn to present to Pierro, but Childe knew that Pierro would want to see the sorry state of…this. He carried her within his hand, trying to quell the bloodlust within him. How dare-well, the Shogun was a goddess, perhaps this is just what she thought. But the Fatui deserved to know of slights and insults against them to retaliate accordingly.

Childe knocked on the door to Pierro’s office. A small woman, Pierro’s secretary of sorts, opened the door, and let him in.

“I’ve got her.”

Pierro turned from the chessboard he had been staring at, and Childe recognized Zhongli’s-no, Morax’s-gnosis, as well as one that must’ve been Barbatos’. It was awfully garish compared to Morax’s.

He turned his attention back to Pierro, trying to keep his calm in the face of his leader, and held out the cloth bag, basically scrap fabric hastily stitched together, with a small tag on it, reading “Talk shit get obliterated -Ei”.

Pierro’s eyes narrowed. “How dare that pompous little bitch!” He roared, taking the bag. “Look at this!” He turned to Childe, “Did you order a counter attack?”

“I’d rather not be in a second bag, sir.”

Pierro seemingly growled at him, causing Childe’s anxiety to spike. Pierro took a deep breath, calming himself. He muttered something under his breath in a language long forgotten, then looked at Childe again. “You did the right thing, to show me the transgression. Our forces in Inazuma have been considerably weakened with the loss of their Harbinger and the resolution of the Inazuman conflict.”

Childe nodded, keeping his eyes steadily on Pierro, who gently set the bag down and ripped away the offending tag and threw it into the fire. “Aleksandra,” he called to his secretary. She came over, and took the bag. “Please find her a suitable place somewhere while we procure a far more respectful…final place.”

Aleksandra nodded and disappeared. Pierro looked to Childe. “Come, Tartaglia. We must gather the Harbingers.”

Looking over a side of the ship they were on, Liyue Harbor in the distance, Childe had to remind himself that coming here was his idea, somehow.

Pierro had asked where they could get the best coffins possible in Teyvat, and well, Childe had but one recommendation.

And thus began what Arlecchino had insisted on calling “Operation Giftbox”. Not the worst name for an op, especially by Arlecchino standards (including such hits as Operation Super Awesome Cool Murder and Operation Ruin Your Fuckin Day, Bitch). The boat docked with a small jolt, and Childe descended the stairs to the lower decks to check on the others.

As he had been the only Harbinger in Liyue mostly, he didn’t have to worry about disguising himself (wasn’t his style anyway), but Pulcinella had mentioned how weird it would be if all nine remaining Harbingers showed up in Liyue Harbor (and would likely be taken rather badly by locals).

So disguises for everyone else, which seemed to include a number of overly unnecessary items, large pairs of sunglasses, face masks, and rather gaudy vacation clothing.

“Stick to the story,” Pantalone said, pulling on a pair of white gloves and a gauzy shawl, “We’re merely merchants from Snezhnaya procuring a little something for a high-profile client. It’s close enough to the truth that even you might remember it,” He finished that last sentence with a condescending chuckle.

“Funny,” Childe said dryly, before wincing at Capitano’s look. He had opted for the full tourist: obnoxiously patterned shirt and khakis.

“What?” Capitano asked, pulling his hair up to tuck underneath the large wide-brimmed hat he wore, that Childe could not figure out for the life of him where he had procured.

“We’re supposed to blend in,” Childe said dryly.

“And? Am I not allowed to sightsee? I’ve been in Natlan and Mondstadt for so long, I want to travel farther!” Capitano whined a little.

Childe opened his mouth to speak, but Pierro placed a hand on his shoulder. “Just try not to draw attention any further than you have to,” he said. Childe nodded, before his eyes bulged out of his head at Pierro’s look, with long pants, and short sleeved coat over a plain shirt, and a fanny pack clearly full of supplies at his hips.

“Do I have to leave him?” Sandrone whined as her robot butler gently set her in her wheelchair, making sad little beeps about leaving his mistress behind. Thankfully Sandrone had enough sense to wear a simple light sundress, but had a Kamera slung around her neck.

“He’s far too large to fit anywhere in Liyue,” Pierro said, “He’ll have to stay on the boat.”

Dottore sighed dramatically, “If only you’d have-“

“Keep your filthy fudging hands off of my machines,” Sandrone hissed.

Childe suddenly realized why they didn’t meet up all that often.

They were escorted off the boat and taken up to the main harbor from the docks, where the attendant bowed and left. Childe looked around, and noticed a few Milelith officers standing nearby, trying to look inconspicuous. One accidentally made eye contact with him. He smirked and waved as they snapped their eyes away, blushing.

He chuckled and turned to the others, who were all staring at him intently.

“Are you going to flirt all day, or take us to this Wangsheng Funeral place?” Columbina asked.

“Oh!” Childe pretended to not suddenly realize that they were waiting on him to take the lead, “We’ll get there soon enough, it’s not far! I just thought you needed a minute to do…whatever.” He waved his hand dismissively. Good save, Childe. “But if you insist,” he sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets and turning. “We can get going.”

The walk to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor was one Childe knew well, and it took just a few minutes maybe, but this time it felt like it took a lifetime with the way that people were staring at him and his odd companions. He supposed he couldn’t blame them, outlanders regardless of clothing usually got stared at, but this was so much worse. He almost felt as though he could die from embarrassment in the street, and it took all of his training and will to keep his face a perfect mask of cheerful indifference.

He expected a nice little bonus for this. He wasn’t going to get one, but it would be really nice.

“What interesting architecture,” Dottore commented, looking at the crossing walkways that led to the second story of the city, “They’re far more vertically inclined than horizontal, must have something to do with the influence of the mountains nearby.”

“It’s cramped,” Arlecchino said. “That’s what you’re saying.” They did look rather uncomfortable, after all. Even in the fairly wide street.

“It’s not cramped,” Pantalone said. “Here at least. Horizontal land purchases are far more expensive here,” he said more to himself than anyone else. “As the city has been developed for a thousand years, now they find it easier to expand up than out.” If his eyes were open, they would’ve been glittering. “Air rights should be fairly cheap….bank could loan…yes yes,” he smiled dangerously.

Childe felt pretty glad that his main driving force in life was battle, not money.

Eventually they managed to get to Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, tucked in the back in the northern half of the city. “Here it is,” Childe said.

“Awfully quiet place here,” Pulcinella said. “Is there anyone inside?”

Childe shrugged, and opened the door anyway. The lights were barely on, and slowly the Harbingers filed inside, looking around-canvassing for threats. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor may not conduct certain unsavory business anymore, but it didn’t do anything to discourage rumors, and certainly didn’t decorate in a far more comforting way.

Childe stepped closer to the counter. No one was hiding behind it, and nothing within the side office where Zhongli usually was, and the hallway behind the counter was dark. “Hello?” He called, looking around.

No response.

“Odd,” Pierro commented. He came up next to Childe, and scanned the little sign saying “Be back in a few!” With a small ghost waving. Childe recognized it as Hu Tao’s, the current and 77th Director of the Parlor, handwriting. “They appear to be on some sort of break.”

“Great,” Capitano flopped his body onto a nearby couch after parking Sandrone next to it. The couch creaked a little under his weight, and Childe really hoped that it wouldn’t snap and break like that one unfortunate stool in Snezhnaya’s favorite bar, the Polar Bear.

“Now what do we do?” Columbina asked, tilting her head in curiosity. “Will they get back soon?”

Childe snorted a laugh. “If Mr. Zhongli is out with the Director, definitely not.”

“Ah, yes, the same Mr. Zhongli you’ve been sugar daddying for recently?” Pantalone asked as he gracefully sat in a chair.

Everyone’s heads snapped towards Childe. He felt his neck get hot, and his face was flushing. He looked off to the side, laughing nervously. “Y-you can’t prove that.”

“Your bank accounts are under the Northland Bank, which is, as you may remember, my department,” Pantalone smiled in a saccharine sweet way. “So, knowing this, when you started spending in excess on a consistent basis, I inquired about the unusual charges. Turns out, this Mr. Zhongli has a most discerning eye for sparkly and shiny things, and you’ve been providing. You’ve also taken him to several dinners. It’s all in the account records. There’s a copy in the bank here, I can show you the ledger if-“

“Nope, not necessary, I get it,” Childe said, waving him off. He could only keep his face down, unable to look from the floor at the gossip-hungry looks of his coworkers.

“Childe, you should be far more careful about these things! My goodness, are you at least using protection?” Pulcinella asked.

If he had been drinking, Childe would’ve spit it out. “What?!” He snapped his head up, his eyes wide.

“You know I support you regardless of your preferences, but you still have to take precautions with escorts, male or female!” Pulcinella insisted. Several of the others nodded in agreement.

“Woah woah woah!” Childe put his hands up in defense. “I think there’s been a mistake or some sort of miscommunication here-“

“What’s been miscommunicated?” Columbina asked, “Sounds pretty straightforward to me.”

“Psst!” Capitano pretended to whisper across the room, “I don’t think he knows this Mr. Zhongli is an escort!” He lifted a hand to pretend to block Childe’s view from the finger he had pointed in the ginger’s direction, despite the fact that Columbina was quite literally next to Childe.

“Oh!” Columbina gasped. She turned to Childe, “Oh you poor thing…”

“I knew I should’ve talked to you before you left about these things,” Pulcinella lamented. “Now look what I’ve done!”

“Guys! Guys!” Childe waved his hands wildly, “Mr. Zhongli isn’t an escort!”

Capitano’s body slumped. “He doesn’t even know,” he threw an arm up in defeat.

“Tartaglia,” Pierro began, “An escort is-“

“I know what an escort is!” Childe cried. “Mr. Zhongli is a fucking consultant for this place!” He pointed to the office behind him. “That’s his office! He works here! Does this,” he spread his arms and gestured wildly, “look like the kind of place that an escort would work?!”

Everyone got very silent for a moment.

“So he’s a conman,” Arlecchino said.

“Have you gotten anything out of the relationship?” Dottore asked, “Specifically asking, have you had sex with him?”

“No!” Childe cried again, this time in exasperation. “He’s not a conman, and it’s not any of your business if I’ve had sex with him! He’s just a good friend!”

Sandrone spoke up, “Have you fought him in combat?”

It was Childe’s turn to fall silent. He never did get to spar with Zhongli, now that he thought of it.

“Oh honey,” Columbina said, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You’ve been scammed.”

“I didn’t get scammed,” Childe said, a little gruffly. “I just…he helped me with the mission I had here and taught me a lot…It didn’t matter to me what he wanted to buy, he always forgot his wallet anyway.”

He wouldn’t convince any of them, it was pretty clear to him. Columbina rubbed his arm comfortingly, and it was probably the most normal thing she’s ever done.

They were all quiet for a bit, and Pantalone had enough sense to look a little sheepish about the mess he had caused.

Childe sank to sit on the floor, the rest of the chairs and couches in the waiting room taken up by the others. Pierro continued to lean against the desk, looking to his watch. Dottore had found a magazine, and had taken a pen and was likely labeling all the parts of the model in the spread that he would “upgrade” and did a mini vivisection on one photo to be really thorough. Capitano had leaned his head against the wall, likely taking a brief nap. Arlecchino had balled themself up and was scratching at the threads on the couch arm. Sandrone had found a book on new embalming techniques and was busy speeding through it, while Pulcinella had found a magazine on coffin styles, and was actually bothering to do the task they had come here for.

The door opened after maybe thirty minutes, and the Harbingers all jumped as the fading daylight flooded the dim parlor. “Aiya! Were you all waiting long?” A familiar voice rang through the waiting room. Childe rose to his feet and Miss Hu Tao stood in the doorway with a bag of food from Wanmin Restaurant. Behind her was the imposing and elegant presence of Mr. Zhongli, also holding a Wanmin bag and a drink carrier with take out cups from Third-Round Knockout, a tavern Childe remembered with much irritation. Zhongli had managed to drink him under the table, a competition that Childe had thought, as a Snezhnayan native, he would’ve been a clear and obvious winner (he hadn’t been the only one, as many a grumbling gambler had had to hand over bags of mora to Zhongli, who looked far too smug when Childe was drunk.)

“Childe,” Zhongli said, hiding the surprise in his voice. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”

Childe was quiet for a few moments before Columbina kicked him gently. “Oh-oh yeah, I’m just escorting these guys,” he gestured, “They’re looking to procure a coffin for a high-profile client. I’m just the muscle,” he gave a signature grin.

“I hope it wasn’t your muscle that caused the need for our services,” Zhongli smirked, a joking lit to his voice as he walked to his office and set the food down. “Forgive me, we are technically on dinner break.”

“Oh please,” Hu Tao piped up. “Business is business, any time of day! And anything for your little boyfriend’s pals, hehe,” she teased, placing her food behind the counter.

Pantalone looked far too smug as Zhongli had a faint blush come to his cheeks. “Forgive her, she thinks that joke is funny.”

“Oh we don’t mind,” Arlecchino said, “We find it amusing too.”

Hu Tao flashed them a grin. “So are we just looking for a coffin, or would you like to engage in our funerary services as well today?”

Pierro straightened up, and gave her a small smile, “Oh no, the client’s family has insisted on doing all of the funeral planning themselves. They’ve merely contacted our firm in procurement of a coffin, that’s all the contract states.”

“Well, we’re certainly capable of working within the confines of a contract,” Zhongli said, passing off one of the take-out cups to Hu Tao, who nodded in assent.

“We should start with materials,” Hu Tao said, using her vision to light the lamps that led down the hallway, briefly disappearing into a room before returning with a slab, with various woods samples attached on, “I think the fir ones are lovely, personally, but sandalwood and maple are very popular this season-“

“Wood won’t do,” Pierro said.

Hu Tao tilted her head.

“In Snezhnaya, it’s far too cold for wood coffins. Far too cold to bury them, the ground is frozen solid,” Pierro continued. “Woods often splinter and break. Most Snezhnayan coffins are made of stone and lay on top of the floor in a mausoleum.”

Hu Tao only nodded, “I didn’t realize! My apologies,” she placed the sample board on the ground. “We can do stone, however they are all custom orders, which will take longer. Thankfully,” she looked to Zhongli, “We have a rock expert on our hands.”

A sort of look was exchanged between the disguised Harbingers and it took Childe everything he had left from this exhausting day to not roll his eyes. Not professional at all.

Zhongli coughed. “I’m nothing to gawk at, but I do know a fair amount, as Mr. Childe can attest to. But is there something specific we had in mind? Sizing is going to be integral to-“

Pierro slapped a piece of paper down, drawn from his fanny pack. “This is it. All the material guides, design, and dimensions.”

Zhongli took the paper, blinking a little, giving a slight judgemental side eye before looking it over. “And who is in charge of budget?”

Pantalone raised his hand far too quickly. “We have no budget. I’ve been given permission to use whatever funds necessary to get the project done.”

Hu Tao and Zhongli looked to one another, mora signs in their eyes.

Yep, they were going to get scammed.

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cheries-brainerotvent · 2 years

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Random Harbinger brain rot vent: Sleeping habits?

Pierro: Goes to bed late, he is a busy man. Though I’d imagine he tries his best to get some sleep, you can’t fight the fight - or so they say. If he has any routines it’s probably trying to do something to get his mind away from work even for a moment. Perhaps a cup of tea, a good book, or just silence to just be the man before he assumed the role of Pierro. Doesn’t move around much in his sleep, mostly can see him sleeping on his back. I wonder what the other side of his face looks like? Give it a kiss to comfort him, no?

Il Dottore: Does this man even sleep? You’d think he would be better at it what with being a doctor. Dottore most likely has developed some sort of anti-sleeping drug (or some such), yet he’s weighed the pros and cons of using it. On one had he can work for hours upon hours, but that might mess up his body, and if his body gets messed up then what if he can’t work? This conundrum probably furthered his cloning enterprise, he can sleep while they do the work! Though more often than not Dottore will be found passed out, thankfully nothing on fire in the lab, but he’s more than used to waking up over a desk, or the floor, always somewhere in his lab. No routine to speak of, if he had any it would be reading and doing research up until his eyes close shut. Sleeps on his side, and is a light sleeper, he has to be ready to fix anyone’s slip ups in the lab after all - my heart sings at the thought that perhaps he unconsciously holds a pillow as he is touch starved (ah my heart weeps!)

Columbina: As a songstress she has to be in tip top shape! Her vocal chords will get ruined otherwise! An extensive routine: skincare, baths, the softest pajamas and music playing at every turn. Music would either be live or records, or her own singing. Has a huge bed with some plushies, or dolls, or lots of pillows - or all three! Columbina would burry herself in the warmth, it would be difficult to find her if you just do a once over the room. She probably has a fireplace going all night long to keep the cozy-ness. Perhaps she lightly braids her hair to keep the tangles at bay?

Pulcinella: Goes to bed late, but not as late as Pierro, he knows better than anyone what that can do to your health - especially at his age. A relaxing tea with lots of honey, while other listening to music or reading - wouldn’t mind a late night visitor, nothing is better than chatting amongst friends before the day is done. Defiantly has a sleeping cap with a little fuzzy pom pom, has the bad habit of knocking his glasses off the nightstand when he wakes up (I have to put mine in a purse by my bed).

Scaramouche: Would take Dottore’s anti-sleep drug without even blinking. Too many bad memories lie in the field of dreams for him, gets more annoyed at them if anything, might get angry depending on what he dreamt about. As far as habits go, while he’d brush to teeth he would just head straight to bed - though if he finds himself wakeful perhaps he’ll people watch if he’s in a city, or gaze upon his surroundings. Would move a lot in his sleep before he gets comfortable, has to have a certain pillow or blanket. Silence is a must! He’d get annoyed with noise before bed and during sleep, he wants to just stop thinking for a moment.

La Signora: You wont catch her ever sleeping outside while on a mission, her underlings can go ahead and stake the target out in rain, snow, heat, or high winds. Signora will gladly spend her evening in finery - dining, pampering, enjoying time for herself (she’s living the dream). Will make sure her hair s braided for no tangles to be present come morning - only resting in the best inn/hotel room of course. Similarly to other Harbingers, Signora hates when she dreams, if she ever does - I feel like she knows when to suppress them, or is lucid enough to shut them down before they become a nightmare. Such dreams are little more than silly old memories that don’t matter anymore.

Pantalone: Like the other business oriented men of the Harbingers, Pantalone has had his fair share of late nights - though he’s the best at it .By order of most sleep depraved Harbingers amongst the gentleman from worst to fine it’s Dottore, Pierro, Childe(only cus if he has a bad dream it takes him a while to go back to sleep), Scaramouche, Pulcinella, Capitano and Pantalone) His routine would consist of final checking for any business - accounting, financial reports, debts collected etc. - If he finds himself without such reading material he may pick up a regular book, tries to find something to pique his interest. May or may not have a midnight drink, depends if he day was taxing or not, or if he’s just in a mood. (Oh but what if he shares his drink with you~ Via mouth to mouth *gasp*)

Tartaglia/Childe: Is the type to be able to sleep anywhere - comfy bed, the ground, a tree etc. and is able to fall asleep quickly to boot. This is all thanks to having to take care of his younger siblings, or at least wrangling them to get to bed on time. It’s all clockwork to him - much like a solider - quick shower, brush teeth, go to sleep. However sleep is a fleeting precious thing for Childe, memories of when he was in the Abyss come rearing their ugly little heads - he has trouble going back to sleep after that - being jumpy and just not wanting to relive it. When not dreaming of the Abyss he recalls happier times - before he was recruited for the Fatui - however if he has a lover then happier memories are present, or just comfort him to sleep such as: rub his back, run a hand through his hair, maybe sing a lullaby.

Il Capitano: His soldiers/other Fatui recruits swear he doesn’t sleep - it’s hard to tell with his helmet on all the time and everyone shuts down rookies who dare each other to sneak into Capitano’s tent - not that anyone has tried, or so they say.

Capitano sleeps fairly well when times allow, if he’s on the battlefield it’s not that he sleeps with one eye open - but rather he is a light sleeper by nature. He tends to power nap more than anything, but as any warrior knows you must rest in order to fight. In not doing so, it may cost you your life on the battlefield. If he finds himself back in Snezhnaya he’ll actually be much kinder to himself. You may find Capitano out and about taking a walk before bed to feel like he’s back home and away from strife - if the weather permits. If not then he’ll be at his manor (I’m sure all the Harbingers all have a lot of Mora if it wasn’t obvious already), perhaps reading (the books are so small in his hands) either war oriented strategic books and surprisingly tales of knights, Kings and Queens and princesses - though it’ll be quite rare if you catch him reading such a thing. I can see him enjoying some hot coco!

Sandrone: Amongst the fatui soldiers/recruits they too believe Sandrone doesn’t sleep, or she is at least in a similar case to Dottore - just don’t ever compare her to him in person if you value your life. Sandrone does work late on her automatons, and could work all night on them if she put her mind to it - but she has a robot at the ready to stop her/remind her. Unlike Dottore, she knows when to rest and come back to a project with a clear head instead of plowing through until you reach success to the detriment to your health.

Sandrone enjoys winding down before bed by having a bit of teatime, perhaps with just music or the crackling of the fire. She would read, but she’s been working all day and needs to rest her eyes. Similarly to Columbina and Signora, her quarters are comfy and with a complete canopy bed to block out any light - she’ll deliberately sleep in. She has full confidence in herself and her abilities that she can pick up where she left off immediately no matter what time she wakes.

Arlecchino: Rumors surround Arlecchino that are in the same vein as Capitano, though more fearful if anyone tries to sneak out at night to enjoy some time at the local pub - more often than not they get caught by the Harbinger. Arlecchino is raising and training soldiers, they need to stay on their toes at any given time. There is most defiantly a “Hell Week” in the Snezhnayan army (If you don’t know what that is, in the U.S Navy there is a whole week of where soldiers are awoken at ungodly hours and are pushed to the limit day in and day out, roughly for 20 hours a day) Arlecchino conducts this week herself instead of those higher - though below her - in the military ranks. Aside from that, she is like Capitano where she is a light sleeper and ever at the ready at a moments notice for battle.

Like Childe, her routine is simple as the soldier she is. Rinse and repeat of shower, brush teeth, bed. This routine is usually disturbed either by work manners, one of the other Harbingers need something, or she finds herself wakeful and without work. Like Capitano you’ll find her out and about, somewhat enjoying the lull of the frosted scenery and partially seeing the parameters of the vicinity. Letting her mind wonder from one topic to another. She might spar with the recruits/soldiers to keep her on her toes as well as tire her out before calling it a day. Is a fast sleeper, and you’d think she moves a lot around in her sleep as her hair is a bit of a mess but it just winds up that way.

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