#we all know who's the most cinnamon-est (it's a word leave me alone awraxa) roll

[inavagrant-a]

@childeofwar​ said: ❛ stale cinnamon roll, been in this world too long, too cynical  ❜ Yes, he's talking about Scaramouche.

As much as his preference rests on working and doing things on his own it can’t be denied that when more than one harbinger are located in the same place the job gets done faster. Scaramouche sits on the back of a treasure hoarder who’s road to death is only one electroshock away, unconscious for now and out of commission until further notice. Such a bore to be assigned to these things, debt collecting? Him? That’s Tartaglia’s chore, Scaramouche’s got bigger fish to catch. However he’s not one to defy orders at least in the meantime especially not when the aftershock that would accompany his defiance will affect him negatively. He says debt collecting, but he does have a functioning brain for a reason. It’s more like he’s babysitting the other, especially after the events that took place in Liyue that now has that nation up in arms towards the Fatui. He need no details because he doesn’t care for them, what he does know is that it was quite the spectacle. It must have been so much fun... much more fun than these treasure hoarders that didn’t even last them a hour before one of them began to spill the beans and let them know where their target of interest was located. “Satisfied? We don’t have all day.” He questions, knowing all too well just how Tartaglia could be when it comes to violence. Sure he has some details as to why and the whens, but those are details that come and go for Scaramouche, they do nothing for him. No benefit, no con, no need for him to consider them further than what they really are to him—mere details.

Scaramouche feels the treasure hoarder below him start to come to, but before he allows for such a thing to take place the skirmisher slams his elbow down on the back of their neck like it was some form of guillotine’s blade descending down upon a head to disconnect it from the body. “I never gave you permission to try to get up.” Whether dead or claimed yet again by unconsciousness is neither here or there for the balladeer. Dusting himself off from such an unnecessary occurrence he catches wind to Tartaglia’s words, who seems to have witnessed the ordeal. “I do hope you’re talking about yourself.” There’s a warning in his tone, even if he’s as calm and composed as he is.

“My patience, Tartaglia.” He smiles. Dwindling by the second.

prompt.

#childeofwar #[ᴍɪsᴄ]── ASKS. #[ɴᴏ. sɪx]── IC. #violence / #childe pleas e we all know #we all know who's the most cinnamon-est (it's a word leave me alone awraxa) roll #between th e two #iT SURE ISN'T SCARAMOUCHE I'LL TELL YOU THAT #thanks for the ask!