Family Ties (Chiluc)

Three

"Another agent has ceased all communications with us without warning since stepping foot in Mondstadt." The agent that had arrived with the report seems like a young woman, though it's hard to tell with the mask. With most of her face covered, she looks like any other low-ranking member of the organisation. Not that seeing her will make any difference to the eleventh harbinger. He doesn't really care to learn the names of every nobody who passes through the lower ranks. Unless someone can offer him a good fight, an entertaining evening, or are the Tsaritsa herself, he simply isn't interested.

The Jester's eye seems to linger on Tartaglia from the other side of the table. "It would seem that someone has it out for us," he says, and something about the way he's looking at him tells Tartaglia that his words are more for him than they are for the agent. Pierro is someone who is rarely seen. Ranked number one among the Harbingers, it's true that he's their leader, but it's clear that, like many members of the organisation, he has his own agenda. For that reason, Tartaglia doesn't hold a lot of respect for his senior. "Have we received any more reports on a certain vigilante?"

"Yes, sir." The agent seems rushed as she speaks. Fear or approval seeking, Tartaglia doesn't know. "One of your own subordinates," she addresses Tartaglia, which was a surprise. His presence is rarely acknowledged when a senior of his is present, "was found injured near Dragonspine's border. The rest of his group didn't make it."

That had his full attention. It's one thing to lose the group's agents, and another thing entirely when it's his own men; when it's someone he knows. "Is he okay?" He sits up straight and leans forward, his attention clearly on her.

"He's in recovery and plans are being made to get him home," she explains. "The description we got out of him includes red hair and a bird mask."

Pierro's intense stare has remained on Tartaglia throughout the whole exchange. "Someone should head to Mondstadt and take care of this problem."

Tartaglia's eyes leave the agent and look between the empty seats of the absent Harbingers, as if him willing them to appear out of thin air is enough to summon them. "Me?" he asks, focus returning to Pierro. Tartaglia is no stranger to being the one sent to find people causing problems for the Fatui, and making sure the problem goes away, but he's used to matters more important than someone deciding to play hero.

"You're always itching for a fight," Pierro speaks calmly, "so go fight."

The agent, Pierro, and the underlings he'd had with him didn't stick around long after that quick to leave Tartaglia to come up with his own plan of attack.

Like any of the other Harbingers, Tartaglia has his own underlings he can use for whatever purposes he deems necessary, so he can easily send them to scout ahead. He won't have them engage directly with the Red Angel, as those in the field have taken to calling him, but just keep an eye on his movements and try to figure out more about his personal life. If Tartaglia knows just who this vigilante is, he can get the jump on him while he's out of the mask.

He stands and stretches. He's got a long journey ahead of him if he's going to reach Mondstadt anytime soon.

-

"Are you sure you'd not rather stay home?" Adelinde says as soon as Diluc reaches her side. "I'm sure Diona wouldn't hold it against you, especially in your current state."

Diluc had taken time to make sure that he looked relatively unbeaten. "I've been in worse states," Adelinde," he reminds her. He tugs at the bottom of his leather gloves so they feel less loose around his wrists. Sure, they give him a better grip on his claymore, but are mostly there to cover the scars left by getting a little overzealous with his vision in his youth. It's the same reason his usual outfit consists of so many layers, though 'Mondstadt's cold,' is usually the answer he gives when questioned about it at Angel's Share. The response that normally gets him is an unsure glance towards his two most regular patrons.

Adelinde shakes her head. Diluc knows she wants to argue, but she keeps quiet.

Diona comes to a stop between the two adults, wearing the same clothes she had on the day before since she had no other options on hand, but her bangs fall over her forehead rather than being tied back. She looks between the two adults then folds her arms and drops her eyes to her feet, ears flattening against her head. "Let's get this over with."

Adelinde lays a gentle hand on the young girl's shoulder and she seems to relax a little with the small touch. It's clear to Diluc that it's his presence that makes her so uncomfortable. As far back as Diluc can remember, the Cat's Tail's Bartender has always seemed to hold a grudge against him, now he was finally given a chance to fix whatever wrong he had apparently committed against her. The previous night had definitely felt like a step forward.

Diluc looks up at the city he'd grown up in; the one he'd hesitated to call home during the past few years. There had never been a huge collection of stores, but that wasn't a bad thing. It made the city feel like a community. No one was a stranger.

Well, almost no one.

Margaret had left Adelinde with everything she needed to know in order to take care of Diona, so Diluc had sent a request to his personal tailor for nicer clothing for her, but he wanted to give her the opportunity to browse the wares of With Wind Comes Glory and pick some things for herself. Anything she showed even the slightest bit of interest in, he was ready to buy for her.

"She's right," he says, ushering them into the store. "Let's get this over with." He cringes internally. He hadn't meant to sound completely uninterested in the trip that he had insisted on, but he keeps his expression cool.

The small bell above the door rings when the door is pushed open and Marjorie looks up from the counter with a smile. It's rare to see her indoors. "What can I help you with?" Her voice is as pleasant as ever, then her eyes find him. "Master Diluc," she stands up straight, "What a rare surprise."

"Perhaps he should visit the city more often," Adelinde says, giving him a good-natured nudge.

Diluc ignores the comment and addresses Marjorie. "Young Diona here has been left in my care for the time being, so I thought I'd bring her by to pick out a few things that'll help make her feel more at home."

Marjorie's cheery expression melts into something softer and sadder as she looks at Diona. "Of course," she says, her voice practically becoming a croon. She walks around the counter to the same side as the rest of them. "I heard about what happened." Diluc isn't surprised. "I was beginning to wonder why you hadn't stopped by in a while." She leans forward, hands on her knees, so she was more level with Diona. "Are you doing okay?"

Diona huffs and turns her head to the side. "I don't need everyone being so overly nice to me."

"Oh." Marjorie stands up straight again. "Well, if you need any help with anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Diona has already wandered off to look through the limited clothing rails.

Diluc decides to leave her to her own devices and begins looking through the small trinkets on one of the shelves. He can hear the faint voices of Adelinde and Marjorie somewhere behind him.

A smile finds his face when he finds a small glass figurine resembling a cat. He plucks it from its place on the wooden shelf and takes it to Marjorie to have it paid for and wrapped nicely. Once the purchase is made he scopes out where Diona has wandered off to in the store. She's looking through the selection of pyjamas Marjorie has laid out. He slips the figure into his jacket pocket.

The small bell sounds again and all three adults look to the door to find a frazzled looking Charles standing in the doorway. "I've been looking everywhere for you," he says when his panicked eyes find Diluc. "We need you back at Angel's Share."

Diluc has never seen Charles look so worried. "What's happened?"

"An outsider came into the bar asking for you," he explains. "Says he's Fatui." Diluc's posture becomes rigid and it feels like an electro bolt has shot up his spine.

He hands Adelinde a bag of Mora. "Take her home as soon as you're done here." He's out the door before she can respond.