Chapter Text
He worked silently. The only sounds in his lab were those of the equipment he was using; a glass beaker bubbled with a substance he had synthesized, a pyro slime encased in heat-resistant geo materials heating it from the bottom.
His hands were steady as he aligned a contraption of glass tubes with the beaker, ready to open the spigot to allow the substance to trickle in. But just as he was about to turn the small handle, there was a knock on his laboratory door.
He hated that he had flinched, and with a sneer he removed the heating contraption from the counter, dousing it and the slime in a bucket of water; it wasn’t safe lab practice to keep pyro slimes burning, after all. He made his way to the door, his mood already soured by the untimely visitation.
He didn’t even bother to open it, figuring it was a mere servant who had been sent to tell him some news. So he leaned against the wall next to the door instead, speaking through it, “What do you want?” HIs arms folded over his chest.
“Dottore, if I may come in…” That voice… Ah, so it was him.
He sighed and removed himself from the wall, opening the heavy door to his lab. The cool air of Snezhnaya’s eternal winter rushed in, revealing the visage of the first Harbinger, Pierro, standing there. He ushered him in with a quick apology, “I didn’t realize it was you, Sir. Please, come in.”
He put on a forced, tight-lipped smile as the man entered. The door was quick to be closed and locked, and Pierro was equally fast in removing his thick, furred coat. It was no wonder he was so hasty - the lab was considerably warm.
“I have orders from Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa.” Pierro spoke bluntly, moving to sit in one of the few chairs littered around. He picked one with a cushion and back, and Dottore couldn’t blame him for that.
He, himself, sat in one of the stools around the edge of the large, open room, “Oh? And what might those be that she had to send you, her second-in-command?” His arms found themselves crossing over his chest once more, hooking a foot under the bar between the stool’s leg to keep himself balanced.
Pierro gave an almost defeated-sounding sigh. “As it happens, within the next two weeks, all of our fellow Harbingers are scheduled to stop through Snezhnaya’s capitol at some point. Her Majesty has requested that during that time, you… ‘check-up’ on all of us.”
Dottore raised an eyebrow under his mask, feeling his lip curl up in a grimace. “Her Majesty, The Tsaritsa… Wants me to give all of the other Harbingers… Check-ups?” Pierro gave a soft nod. Dottore sighed, whispering under his breath, “Her Benevolence knows no bounds, truly… What am I? Some hoity-toity healer?”
Pierro nodded, “Indeed. She believes it is in our best interest to keep all of her Harbingers healthy and well…”
Dottore scoffed, “Couldn’t you have picked someone else? I don’t know, an actual healer?”
Pierro gave a low, rumbling chuckle, “No one else is privy to the Harbingers’ medical histories as you are, Dottore. You mustn’t humble yourself sometimes. You have been entrusted with our files, as we have been with yours as they pertain to our goal.”
Dottore rolled his eyes but sighed, relenting, “Alright, alright. Do you have a schedule for these… Visitations?”
“As it happens, I do.” Pierro reached into the inner pocket of his jacket, producing a folded up sheet of paper. Dottore got down from his perch to go over, grabbing it out of the hand that held it toward him.
He unfolded the creases with ease, his eyes sliding over the page, quickly reading over it.
The following details the dates on which Her Majesty’s Harbingers have been instructed to meet with Lord Harbinger Dottore at mid-day. All dates are in accordance with the Harbingers’ personal and business schedules, and no conflicts should arise.
Pierro - 13th Day of the 8th Month
Columbina - 14th Day of the 8th Month
Arlecchino - 15th Day of the 8th Month
Pulcinella - 16th Day of the 8th Month
Capitano - 17th Day of the 8th Month
Sandrone - 18th Day of the 8th Month
Signora - 19th Day of the 8th Month
Tartaglia - 20th Day of the 8th Month
Scaramouche - 21st Day of the 8th Month
Pantalone - 22nd Day of the 8th Month
Should a conflict in time-schedule arise…
Dottore stopped reading at that point, moving to place the paper flat on one of the counters. “It says here that you, Sir, are scheduled for the 13th…”
Pierro nodded. “That, I am.”
Dottore narrowed his eyes, turning to look back at the man, “Today is the 13th.”
The man in the chair looked at him with a blank, unreadable expression. After a moment of silence, he spoke a simple, “Correct.”
Dottore let out a long sigh, “Very well. I will do your… Check-up.” He grit his teeth together, biting out those words. “Give me a moment to tidy up my lab… And go over your files.” He made it crystal clear that he was not happy about the circumstances, putting an empty beaker on the paper to weigh it down before going to the back of the lab.
On his way down the hallway to the back, he found one of his segments waiting for him, leaned against a doorway, a sinister smile on his face, showing his jagged teeth. Dottore gave him a “Tch,” only for him to shift, revealing a letter pinched between two of his fingers.
“I’m just going to leave this on your desk,” the segment spoke in a sing-song tone, disappearing into the office he’d emerged from. Dottore rolled his eyes, making his way to his records room, tracing over the drawers’ labels with a gloved finger. The smell of the room was almost nauseating, old wood and dusty parchment.
Before long, he found the files on the other Harbingers, pulling out the entire stack to sort and put in order later. He found Pierro’s file, which was concerningly thin. Figures. The man certainly had a lot to hide.
Giving the medical file a quick skim, it was easy enough to understand what he needed to check up on. He pulled out one relevant sheet and quickly made his way back to the main lab where Pierro was still waiting patiently, observing some of his lab equipment.
“Alright, Mr. Pierro,” he put on a tight persona, “There are a few things I must ask you.”
“As you will.” Pierro sat back down, crossing one leg over the other as he kept his watchful eye on Dottore. He didn’t care, though, leaning against the counter.
“Right, so… You are afflicted by a curse, yes? Have you noticed it spreading at all?” He raised an eyebrow, looking between the sheet and the man whose details were on it.
Pierro shook his head, “No. Nor have I felt anything new coming of it. However, its effects are still not pleasant, as they never are.” A deep frown settled on Pierro’s face, but it looked perfectly natural to Dottore, who had only ever truly seen the man frown.
He nodded, “Well, that seems to be in order…” He furrowed his eyebrows under the mask, “Though…” Something itched at the back of his mind. A question. He was given a golden opportunity to test things on his fellow Harbingers. Nothing sinister. Nothing that would truly cause them great harm. But for Pierro…
“Wait here a moment, Sir. I have something that might be of use for you and your… Condition.”
That seemed to pique the man’s interest, and Dottore was quick to shuffle to one of the few storage rooms connected to the lab. He was always importing new strange substances from all across Teyvat; anything had the potential to improve or ail a person, it just came down to circumstance and willpower.
Ugh, the storage rooms always smelled of chemicals and herbs, his nose being assaulted by the smell of pure dendro coalescences. He pushed through to the back where he remembered recently placing something he’d received from a younger segment of his. A jar of water. Though, not any water. It was water from some sort of spring related to a lost civilization that had been misplaced.
He didn’t bother to question how the segment had gotten his hands on it; that was the one that had gone to the chasm, and Dottore quite honestly didn’t want to know what happened in there. All he knew was that apparently the segment had observed strange behavior from abyss creatures around the water, which made him think that perhaps it could have an effect on Pierro.
He took the jar down from the shelf and made his way back out, quickly fetching a few small glass tubes to portion the water; he didn’t want to just give Pierro the entire jar, seeing as it could have its uses elsewhere.
He capped them off, moving back to the man, “Here.”
Pierro took them and squinted, “This just appears to be… Water.”
Dottore shrugged, “It’s water that was found in the Chasm that seemed to hold significance to the Abyss Order. If its properties are not location-dependent, it could perhaps have some effect on you. Be that a positive or negative effect, that is yet to be seen. However…”
Pierro was eyeing him suspiciously. “If that effect turns out to be negative, since it’s just water and not a significant amount, it’s easy enough to dilute it in your system by way of drinking still or tap water.” He crossed his arms, “Really, you can’t go wrong with it.”
Pierro sighed, “Very well. I will give it a try. If anything happens, I will report it to you duly.”
Dottore allowed his lips to crack up into a toothy smile, “Wonderful. Now tah-tah, I have stuff I need to keep working on.” He quickly ushered Pierro up and out of the lab, helping him to shrug his jacket back on. He was practically shoving the man out of the door by his back before slamming it shut and locking it.
He buried his face in his hands, back against the door and hunched over. He groaned. These were orders from Her Majesty directly, but well and truly did he think they were ridiculous. His commotion seemed to attract the attention of the segment from earlier, who peered in from the hallway.
“Sir, is everything alright.”
He looked up with a glare, “You,” the segment waited for his orders, “I need you to locate all relevant, recent medical files from all of the other Harbingers. The files are already pulled in the Records Room, but I cannot be assed to do it myself.”
The segment nodded, “You have a deal, Sir, so long as you read that letter.”
He rolled his eyes and the segment quickly scurried off. Why was he so irritating when he was younger? No matter, he crossed the lab, making his way to his office. The letter sat on his desk, taunting him, a deep blue wax seal with the insignia of “IX” stamped on it.
He sat in the plush chair, sinking down into it, allowing his posture to slack. It was a habit he developed in his youth and never bothered to kick. He propped his legs up on the desk and tore the envelope open, pulling out the neatly-folded letter. It was two pages thick, folded in on each other. When he unfolded it, a slip of paper fell out, which he picked up.
It was a check for 2 million mora. Great. Just what he needed, bribery.
Turning his attention back to the letter itself, the handwriting was ornate and decorated, but seemingly rushed, some of the curls left too wide or too tall.
My Dearest Doctor,
I have received your latest shipment of poisons. However, it seems as though you may not want to send them through the mail anymore. Two of the pouches had opened up in the box and mixed with one another! I’m not sure what bearing that would have on either of their potencies, but I daren’t try the concoction.
Perhaps you can send it via a personal envoy next time, hm? You know, like this handsome man next to me right now, reading over my shoulder. The one who came to inform me of my appointment in a couple weeks.
Dottore gripped the sheet tightly. One of the segments had been informed before him?! Why had no one told him of these arrangements?! Maybe he needed to see if Pierro’s memory was starting to go as well, seeing as he forgot to inform him until the day of!
He took a deep breath and continued reading the letter.
In any case, I’m looking forward to it. Some nice, quality time with you, Doctor. Perhaps we can discuss more intimate matters, yes? Intimate matters like a new project for you. The mora I have attached is for a personal request I want you to fulfill. A new type of poison, one that currently only exists in theory.
The details of the request are on the sheet below this. I trust you more than anyone to be able to provide me with what I want. And I want it soon. If you need additional research funds…
Well, you know who to write.
Regards,
Your Personal Sugar Daddy.
Dottore made an audible “Eugh,” at the signature. The nerve of the man to be so blatantly disrespectful and demanding. Someone needed to put him in his place.
In any case, he had a new project to work on.