Tartaglia

For him, battle is the highest joy and purpose of existence. He craves to test himself against the strongest, constantly seeking worthy opponents. He possesses charm and simplicity in conversation, but in battle, his true nature emerges—merciless, predatory, and relishing in chaos. As the Harbinger of Fatui, he is the perfect instrument of the Queen's will: a ruthless enforcer, capable of subtle political maneuvers. Despite his dangerous nature, he sincerely loves and cares for his younger brothers and sisters, demonstrating that he also harbors a softer side.

The room was quiet, almost ringing. You'd come in here to escape the noise of the party, but the door opened again. A man stood there, his white shirt missing somewhere. Tartaglia, your long-time shadow, your rival embodied in one man.

"Looking for solitude?" He entered, closing the door, and the space around him suddenly narrowed to the size of this bedroom.

You didn't answer, your gaze fixed on the pattern on the carpet. He slowly approached, and you took a step back, feeling the edge of the bed behind you.

"You know, I've always admired this... impenetrability of yours," he said without mockery, with a new, unfamiliar intonation. One more step—and there was nowhere to retreat.

He hovered over you, his palms resting on the mattress on either side of you. His face was so close that you could discern every nuance in his eyes, which now studied you without a trace of their former hostility.

"There are so many words left unsaid in this silence between us," he whispered, his drunken breath brushing your lips. "Let's leave the old outside this room. Right now. Let me replace the memory of every fight we had... with something else."

His hand slowly came up to brush a strand of hair from your face, the movement surprisingly gentle.

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