Hurry up. Dawdle any longer and we'll be drenched by the time we step through the door.
[ The two of them advance along the forest floor with a quickness in their step, puddling splashing at their feet. Wanderer can feel that his socks have become somewhat sodden from the rain already, an uncomfortable sensation that causes his nose to wrinkle in displeasure, thin brows furrowing. He'll have to remove both them and his kimono to dry once they find shelter. As for the woman trailing behind him... he supposes it's up to her whether she'd like to peel off those damp stockings off hers.
They cross a bend in the path, and soon a small building in the midst of the jungle comes into view, its walls nearly covered by vines and plants. It may not be the most suitable resting place, but Wanderer doesn't particularly care when it's raining this heavily. He can hear thunder in the distance, a lingering reminder of his creator and the Electro she wields. Wanderer has never liked thunderstorms because of it, and he'd prefer to hide away than listen to its vibrations.
He turns his head back slightly to give his companion a look. ]
Did you hear me, mage?
[ Their gazes meet, and he notes that Mona's seafoam green eyes are strikingly bright under her hat. Behind her, her long, black twintails are tousled by the wind rushing at their sides. And like Wanderer expected, it seems the rain has gotten to her clothes, too.
Pestering me isn't going to make me move any faster, you brat.
[ This isn't entirely true, because Mona is equally as eager to get indoors, where there'll be a roof over her head. Her large hat won't save her from the massive downpour (and she wouldn't want it to get too drenched, anyway) -- but it also won't obscure the small house up ahead in the jungle. It seems small, modest, abandoned. It may not be the sturdiest of homes, sure, but Mona has spent enough time outdoors to know that beggars can't be choosers.
She's close behind him when he calls out to her, and Mona rolls her eyes at his sass. Goodness, he's quite impatient, isn't he? But she's close behind him, and when their eyes meet, her gaze isn't quite as sharp as it used to be with him. Still, she's pouting, and she huffs before she reaches past him to open the door. Thankfully, it's unlocked. ]
Yes, yes, loud and clear. I have a name, you know.
[ Hmph! She'll at least step aside to let him in first, though, even if her free hand goes onto her hip. ]
[ His voice is dry when he replies, but Wanderer doesn't linger outside any longer then necessary. He slips through the dilapidated doorway and into the darkness beyond it, cautiously glancing around in the instance of an unwanted guest. It doesn't take long to determine there isn't any other presence than their own. And deeming it safe enough, he reaches up to remove his large hat and set by the wall.
The wood creaks as he walks into what appears to be the main living space. There's a modest kitchen to the right and to the left, a short table with two chairs on either end of it. Wanderer doubts there is any food food here—it's helpful Mona brought her own. He doesn't have to eat, but she certainly does.
Turning a corner, he spots a wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. ]
...The stairs are here. Aren't you fortunate? You'll sleep on a bed tonight.
[ Mona has been following him around until now under the insistence of Buer and the Traveler, leaving her sometimes sleeping out under the stars with him. He had thought she'd resent this, but she was a surprisingly experienced camper. She remained full of surprises even after he altered the timeline. ]
Incorrect, but I may as well call you 'Infuriating' while we're at it.
[ Mona may have been far more outraged by his insolence back when they first met, but some time has passed since then, and she's learned to take no -- well, less offense to his quips. This is just how Wanderer is, and she's mostly managed to adjust. It doesn't mean that her ego isn't sore and bruised from her time with her new companion. At least he's resourceful and observant, if nothing else.
Mona also does her own inspection of the place to make sure it's safe, and she sneaks a glance his way to ensure that he also feels that it's okay to stay here. She finds her answer in the way he removes his hat and sets it aside. She'll do the same, on her side of the room.
She finds a sink in the kitchen area, which she uses to squeeze out some of the rainwater from her hair. Her attention is grabbed when he mentions sleeping on a bed, and something about her expression seems to soften -- this is clearly a blessing, and it shows. The relief on her face fades as quickly as it came, though, and it mellows out into something more neutral. ]
... Fine. I can't deny that I am rather fortunate to find a place to rest my head tonight.
[ ...Even if sleeping under the stars wasn't all that bad, even with Wanderer's presence. Strange, that, isn't it?
She hears something quietly drop from the ceiling and onto the countertop next to her, though. She glances its way -- raindrops, slowly dripping from the ceiling. Unsurprising, but still a little bothersome. ]
Even if this house is a little...dilapidated. [ And after wringing out the last bits of water she can get out of her hair: ] It'll have to do. Make yourself comfortable.
[ With a snort, he approaches Mona's side to take her rucksack from her. ]
Whoever it belonged to likely surrendered it to the jungle years ago. However, there's enough upkeep to make me believe that we aren't its first visitors.
[ The building may be abandoned, but it isn't in an impossible state to live in. There's furniture, the tiny kitchen to prepare food, and a place to rest their heads. Though, he doesn't think Mona will use the bedding up there. It would be safer for her to roll out the thin blanket tucked away in her belongings. She'd be bitten up by bugs otherwise—that, or develop a nasty rash. Humans are considerably weak; it's a surprise at all they can survive out in the wilderness.
Wanderer turns to place Mona's bag onto the counter, rummaging through it for a few seconds before eventually pulling out a small packet, two mugs, and a camping pot. He inspects the packet first, and to his satisfaction, there appears to be enough green leaves there for the both of them. ]
Turn the faucet. If there's plumbing, I'll prepare tea.
[ He may not experience the chill from a rainstorm, but it will have affected Mona. If she were to ingest something hot, it would temporarily warm her and stave off the possibility of catching a cold. Usually, he would've left her to her own devices, but—over their time traveling together, he has admittedly softened up. Wanderer's tongue isn't as sharp, his remarks not as barbed as they once were. It's strange, but he has come to realize that, despite having been a thorn in his side since the beginning, Mona Megistus is an extraordinary individual. Her usage of astrology still intrigues him, even if he believes most of it is stupid. ]
Certainly not. It's the only house we've seen all the way out here; I'm sure there are explorers and rangers who seek shelter here from time to time.
[ She says this as she walks out into the small lounge area, inspects the state of the couch -- it's not horrible, all things considered -- before she turns towards where Wanderer is standing. She fully intends on looking at that bedroom, even if she will, indeed, choose to sleep elsewhere with her blanket.
In the beginning, Mona may have protested against Wanderer freely searching through her belongings; now, there are things in there that belong to him, too. It feels more like a shared resource these days rather than something that she takes full ownership of. His offer to prepare the tea is a welcome one, especially with how chilly it is outside. ]
Let us hope that the plumbing's held up over the years, then. While you do that, I'm going to check the state of the bedding.
[ She takes a step towards her destination, and her heel clacks on the flooring beneath her -- she turns to give Wanderer a little glance, almost as if she doesn't entirely want to be without his company -- and then, she's off to see the sad state of the bug-ridden mattress. Soon enough, she's back in the kitchen, disgruntled. ]
So much for a bed to rest my head on tonight...though there's hardly any room to complain. I'll use the couch...
[ ...Which begs the question of where Wanderer will be able to get comfortable. It's why she trails off in thought, though the idea of them sharing the couch is embarrassing. Not deplorable, but the thought gets her to clear her throat. ]
T-that is, if you can find somewhere to sit, too. I'm more than used to sleeping on hard surfaces by now.
[ While she busies herself upstairs, Wanderer investigates the plumbing. It takes a few seconds for it to begin running, but once it does, chilled water pours out into the sink. It isn't muddied at all, seemingly running clear and quite quickly. And deeming it safe, Wanderer reaches for the camping pot to fill it to a favorable level.
Mona returns just a bit after he lights the stove. He glances over at her as she trudges into the kitchen, a sour look on her face that betrays how she's feeling. Beside them, flames dance under the pot, its warmth felt even from a distance. ]
Too many bugs? [ He crosses his arms. ] I'm sure they would've enjoyed your company tonight.
[ Even if he's mocking her, he can't fault Mona. She could, theoretically, try laying her blanket atop the mattress, but that would leave her without one to cover herself with. Being a human, she'd likely freeze than get a proper night's sleep. The couch gives her a slightly better chance, though that will be up to how far the temperature drops later in the night. ]
Use the couch, then. I don't require sleep and can sit in the kitchen.
[ It'll be an uncomfortable wooden chair, but he won't complain. ]
It wouldn't be the first time I've had to keep watch.
[ Some nights, rather than laying beside her, he'll sit in the corner of the tent instead, staring out into the jungle and listening to the sounds of nature. Buer instructs him to reflect on himself, so he does. However, there are also moments his gaze will rest on Mona. She always sleeps soundly, her blanket pulled up to her chin and obscuring her slender body, those pouty features softened. It's a vulnerable position, one she would've instantly rejected if he were still a Harbinger. Now, with his erasure, she has cast aside that version of him and accepted 'Wanderer'. He still wonders why it is she has put faith in him.
[ Wanderer may as well call himself an expert in flustering the proudest Astrologist in all of Teyvat. Mona huffs and rolls her eyes, and her hands go to her hips, but her attention shifts to the running water almost immediately. It's yet another sign that Wanderer doesn't get under her skin nearly as much as he used to. Good, the plumbing works. (He can get to that tea and make up for lumping her in with the insects, she thinks.)
With Wanderer keeping watch, she knows that she'll feel...safe. Safe -- a word she didn't think she'd use with someone of his nature. However, he's proven time and time and again that he is a reliable companion. Even so, her gaze lingers on him thoughtfully before she averts her gaze, back onto the couch. ]
...If you insist...
[ She'll set up her blanket and place it on the sofa, but -- the tea. Besides, it'll be hard to sleep with all the sounds of thunder and lightning.
Mona makes her way over to the kitchen and pulls up one of the two wooden chairs there. The warmth from the stove is comforting, and she sits up straight before she decides to do some readings -- Mona does not disclose what she's trying to discern, but she nods to herself in silence.
Then: ]
Luckily, the weather tomorrow afternoon seems to be a little more favorable. We should be able to travel more comfortably.
Mona has stressed before that she doesn't just divine for every little thing—it's how she can still be caught unaware. Wanderer thinks this facet of her is amusing; if you have the power, why not consistently use it to your advantage? And yet, Mona will linger about, careful not to abuse it more than necessary while emphasizing the importance of fate. For such a skilled astrologist, she is naive. That is what makes her enjoyable to tease, at least. ]
Or is this what you wanted? Playing house?
[ Wanderer chuckles under his breath, dropping the tea leaves into their individual mugs. He then follows it with a rush of boiling water, its steam unfurling up towards the ceiling and warming the small kitchen, pleasant in comparison to the biting winds. It doesn't take long for the scent of green tea to begin to permeant.
Mona's mug is placed in front of her with a clink, though not without a smug smile on Wanderer's part. ]
You should know that I don't typically perform divinations on trivial matters like the weather. This was a special case.
[ And she's quite adamant about that. To her, using her skills on everyday things would be a waste of time and a complete disservice to an art that's supposed to be sacred, and treated with the utmost respect. It isn't just some tool for her to use freely, and Wanderer has never seemed to understand that. Oh, well. Most people haven't.
She rolls her eyes yet again at the mention of playing house. ]
Please. As if I'd choose to be stuck in a room with a brat like you.
[ She pouts as she says it, but the realization that this is probably one of the first times they've actually been in close, domestic quarters like this is what gets her to blush. There's a light pink color dusted on her cheeks, but it's very feint, and quickly covered by her raising her cup to sip on some of her tea.
It's good. Her eyes glance up to see him smiling smugly her way. ]
You look quite pleased with yourself. Are you that proud of the tea you've made?
He coolly observes her as she sulks, that little nose of hers scrunched up in dismay. The first time they met, he had thought it, too, that Mona was remarkably easy to rile up. Admittedly, those earnest reactions bring out Wanderer's latent sadism; the urge to push her buttons and tease her near impossible to resist. If they were children, Wanderer might be the boy pulling her pigtails on the playground.
Mona brings her mug to her lips to drink, and he finds his gaze lingering on them. He only looks away when she speaks again, scoffing quietly. ]
It doesn't matter. I'd prefer if it were more bitter.
[ Despite saying so, Wanderer lifts his mug take a sip of his own. He has an unusual relationship with eating and drinking, but he will indulge on occasion. Green tea was the first thing he had ever consumed, and to this day, he doesn't dislike its flavor. ]
[ If he ever told her that he would have been her childhood bully, she could absolutely believe it. Their relationship now, though, is just slightly (no, it's more than that--) more cordial, as evidenced by how lax her posture is in his presence. It's a surprise that Mona Megistus, someone who carries herself pridefully, can let her guard down around someone like Wanderer, even if he's now just an ordinary person in the eyes of the unaware.
She lowers her cup and quickly licks her lips. She's had more green tea now than she ever has, but it tastes good. It's always warm, too.
She can't help but chuckle at Wanderer's comment. ]
More bitter, to suit your personality? [ She shakes her head, though. Her smile is surprisingly bright. ] Oh, I'm joking, of course. I think it's perfectly fine as it is now.
[ Maybe it's the weather that makes it taste so good...or maybe it's because she knows who was behind the kettle...? ]
I've grown accustomed to the flavor of green tea by now, and -- [ ...ahem. ] I am quite fond of how you prepare it.
[ His go-to response to her admission would've been, 'don't get used to it', but Wanderer doesn't say it. The fact remains that, so long as she continues to follow him in his travels, he will brew her green tea to drink. Humans are fragile beings; without warmth, they can't survive. She is fortunate that he is considerate enough to look after her.
(...is what he tells himself. Wanderer refuses to acknowledge that it brings him satisfaction to see her comfortable and well-fed each night. He may gripe about cooking, but he is surprisingly skilled in it. And with Mona's finances being a mess, she's clearly in need of the extra care.) ]
Then, enjoy it now, [ he says, turning away slightly to obscure his expression. ] The cold front will make tonight difficult for you. Without a campfire, this mug and a blanket will be your only source of warmth.
[ no, he cannot accept compliments....... that's embarrassing ]
[ It's become easier for her to admit that she doesn't mind accompanying him on his travels. As long as she has time for her research (which traveling does, indeed, help her with), as long as she can continue her drafts for The Steambird, and as long as she has her basic needs met...it's not so bad. Wanderer, surprisingly, makes sure that she's taken care of. He is, admittedly, better in the kitchen than she is, in any case. Mona truly is fortunate, even if that's a fact he'll have to pry out of her someday.
Wanderer presents his question, almost like it's a challenge. She huffs . ]
Of course I'll be able to. I've lived through colder temperatures before.
[ ...with more things to keep her warm, that is. He's right in that she only has the mug and her blanket.
It won't be enough, and she knows that. But there isn't anything either of them can do to really fix that. She'll be fine, she tells herself. He's lucky that the cold won't bother him. ]
[ Her question gives him pause. For a majority of his existence, he has had to squash vulnerable feelings towards others. It is what caused him to be abandoned originally—his mother saw no use out of a puppet that could shed tears. Wanderer's feelings were an error in his making; it was best to not experience emotion at all. That is what he told himself again and again.
...Or so he thought.
Buer and the Traveler had done their part in unravelling his past. Emotions he had long since buried resurfaced, and the pain, the misery he had felt for centuries, were exposed to the air like open wounds. And having been in his head, Buer knew what to do—the... fixation he has on Mona didn't go unnoticed, and she had assigned Mona to be his watchdog afterwards. He knew that this was her attempt at healing him.
It's true; Wanderer is concerned for Mona, just as he had been for the small boy and the humans ravaged by fire. ]
[ ...is her immediate response. It's quick, it's natural, but perhaps unfamiliar in the way she cuts herself off. This is where she would finish her sentence, insist that she's stronger than he thinks, but she's stunned by the way he answers her question. He doesn't deny that he's concerned. He admits that he is.
It's probably the most heartfelt thing he's told her thus far. Something stirs in her chest at his reply.
He cares. He cares and she knows it, now. It's why her defenses seem to lower in how she relaxes her shoulders, in how her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. Mona clears her throat, trying to cover up for her little fumble but failing to do so nevertheless. ]
Y-you don't have to worry so much. [ Her voice is quieter, now. ] I know we're quite different, but I'll be alright.
[ There's a pause. ]
I'm fully capable of returning the favor, too, you know.
[ He expects it, too, Mona's agitated huff and upturned nose. However, that response instead transitions into something much softer. She's hesitating, and Wanderer wonders if it would be better to cut this conversation short and put distance between them again. He could make a cutting remark, turn away and play it off as a cruel joke at her expense.
But he doesn't.
Beside him, Wanderer can see her cheeks pinken. Mona then clears her throat in that typical way of hers, but when she speaks, her voice is noticeably lower. ]
Different... [ He repeats. ] I don't think you know how far that difference goes.
[ It's a vague reply. Is she aware that there is no heart beating in his chest? Has she noticed at all? Wanderer refuses to ask.
Silently, one gloved hand comes forward to grasp her chin. He tilts her head towards him, forcing Mona to look into his eyes. And for a wavering moment, he silently observes her, his brow furrowed slightly and a small frown setting his features. ]
Is she aware? She thinks she is. She knows that Wanderer doesn't need sustenance. He doesn't get cold. Many things that would threaten her health are more like minor inconveniences to him. Even so, however, she remains unaware of the lack of a heart -- perhaps that simply means he's exemplified something akin to having one, so much so that she hasn't noticed.
The biggest difference between them, Mona thinks, much to her chagrin, is that he is far better at masking -- or perhaps not even feeling much at all -- than she is. She's trying to will away the flush on her cheeks, trying to pull her expression back to something neutral.
And then his hand touches her chin, forces her to look at him. It's her worst nightmare right now. The way her heart races is yet another thing she'd like to will away, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
And her heart would very much like to close the gap between them and -- ]
Y-you--
[ No. Ignore it, Mona. You're simply entranced because of the proximity, there is nothing else to it.
... Or, so she thinks. If it were that simple, she wouldn't be a sputtering mess. She can't even speak. She's just that red in the face. ]
[ She sputters rather than answering his question, her eyes wide enough he thinks he can see the galaxy in her irises. It reminds Wanderer of when she uses her magic—that small sliver of starry sky she summons at will, glistening and bright as if she pulled it directly from the heavens. The pearlescent hue is similar and just as captivating. Could it be that Mona feels just as entranced by his own?
He can recognize the flush having settled in her cheeks, the way her lips part as she stares back at him. Those thick black brows of hers have also drawn up in apprehension. Truly, she appears to be speechless. ]
...Mona.
[ Breaking the spell, he soon lowers himself to close the distance between their faces. She can't escape, can't pull away—not with her chin between his fingers. And after pausing for only a fraction of a second, peering into her features once, Wanderer leans in—
...and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
It's soft, the slightest pressure. A brush of his lips at most. Then, he draws back only an inch. ]
Because you're weak, I'll allow you to cling to me tonight. My warmth should be enough.
[ Wanderer gets closer, closer, and her eyes naturally close in anticipation. He's going to kiss her, isn't he? There's no other explanation for it, even if the stars couldn't have foretold this development –
the kiss happens in a way she doesn't expect. No, it's not a rough press of lips to hers like she thought it would be in that split second. Instead, it's a gentle, feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Her breathing grows a little heavier as her expression contorts into something utterly embarrassing. Her cheeks are undeniably red now, and she places her fingers on top of where Wanderer's lips brushed against hers ]
Y-you – I'm not weak!
[ Clinging isn't unwelcome. His warmth isn't, either. None of that diffuses her need to prove herself to him and show him that she means what she says.
Without giving it much thought, Mona grabs him by the collar and draws him in for a proper, actual kiss. Her lips firmly plant themselves onto his, and she holds it there for a second or two before she pulls away.
Mona puffs up despite herself, pouting in his direction. ]
T...there. See? I-I'm stronger than you think I am.
[ Having genuinely thought he had overwhelmed her, Wanderer can only make a small grunt of surprise as she curls her fingers into his kimono and drags him into a kiss. It's—quick, immeasurably soft. His fingers twitch outwards at his sides in disbelief, and for a moment, he can only stare at her reddened face, now so close to his that he can see her individual eyelashes.
Those two seconds feel both short and very long. Even when Mona releases him, he still feels caught up in her force, the warm pressure of her lips on his. If he had a heart, it'd surely be pounding in his chest from adrenaline. ]
...Hah.
[ Wanderer eventually manages a small huff of a laugh, drawing back slightly to study her face. ]
I should know better by now than to underestimate you.
[ Just as he thought, Mona Megistus continues to surprise him. She has always been different—if not his equal, then somehow a step ahead of him. Wanderer refuses to believe in her foolish stars, but there may be a single truth in them: he is destined to be wrapped around her littlest finger. ]
[ These two seconds are incredibly long for her, too. She has to close her eyes and pull herself in – does she regret it? Hm. The pompous part of her wants to shake her and scream and talk about how humiliating that must seem.
The core part of Mona Megistus, however, doesn't regret it at all. That side of her is what's evident, what's showing on her very flushed face and in how she looks back at him with some sort of determination in her eyes. What that determination is for is unclear, but it takes her a moment to reply to his retort with a scoff of her own. ]
Of course. Why, it isn't as if we've been traveling together for weeks now.
[ Looks like her bite's returned. Good, she thinks. She doesn't have to look like a coward in front of him anymore, even if it means suppressing the urge to run away and hide. ]
Victory is very clearly mine.
[ As if this were a competition. She says it with a small smirk on her lips, but her cheeks are still giving way to how flustered she truly is. ]
[ At one point, he considered her prideful demeanor frustrating—he wanted all to kneel before him as a Harbinger—but now her attempt at bravado is simply endearing. Wanderer can't help the low chuckle from leaving his chest as he reaches out to cup her cheeks in his palms, running the pad of one thumb over her skin.
Like her lips, they're soft, too.
Wanderer has lived centuries; he isn't inexperienced by any means, but it is very much different for there to be... affection in his body language, his expression. Long ago, when he'd gone by a different name, he allowed himself to feel this way. Those distinctly human feelings are resurfacing now. ]
'Victory'. Say it like that, and I might take it away from you.
[ (Un)luckily for him, Mona Megistus bows to no one. ... Or so her demeanor would suggest, but those who know her well – like he does at this point – know that she'll submit to the right people. He, however, aggravates her so much that it helps her fight back and use her sharp tongue to rile him up as much as she can.
Ironically, this is one of the rarer moments in which Wanderer is starting to draw something more submissive out of her, with how he touches her cheek, how his eyes soften. It's unusual for him to look this way. She's never seen it on him before, let alone see him offer to make her bed for her. He's always been one to let her take care of herself, which she's never had a problem with, but now...he's offering to do something so gentle for her. It does nothing to quell her embarrassment.
Mona will not stop him, though. Instead, she just looks down at her tea, averting her gaze so it doesn't stay on his anymore. ]
Fine, so long as you call me by my name. Just this once.
[ It's phrased like it's a quip, and it is – but she also just wants to hear him say it, even if it's only for tonight. Even if he never calls her Mona ever again. ]
[ After gazing into his eyes for that brief moment, Mona looks away at last. Her long, black lashes cast faint shadows against her colored cheeks, the green of her eyes vivid against her skin. And when she speaks, there's that familiar prideful edge, like she isn't flushing under his stare or allowing him to caress her face. He is sure that if he were to lean in closer, she would lose that thinly-veiled composure and fluster further. It's almost tempting, but he'll give her that grace.
Wanderer can't help but snort to himself. If Mona had managed to continue peering up at him, she would've caught a surprisingly soft expression. ]
Fufu... You sound like a child.
[ Mona's selfish demand is terribly innocent. It reminds Wanderer of the unnamed boy from long ago, whom he had coddled and nursed. That small human had also made demands such as this one; 'sing to me or I won't sleep' or 'play with me and I'll peel fruits with you'. ]
Drink the remainder of your tea, Mona. [ There's an amusing lilt in his voice. ] And then prepare for bed.
[ His thumb strokes over her cheek once before Wanderer releases her entirely. ]
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no subject
[ The two of them advance along the forest floor with a quickness in their step, puddling splashing at their feet. Wanderer can feel that his socks have become somewhat sodden from the rain already, an uncomfortable sensation that causes his nose to wrinkle in displeasure, thin brows furrowing. He'll have to remove both them and his kimono to dry once they find shelter. As for the woman trailing behind him... he supposes it's up to her whether she'd like to peel off those damp stockings off hers.
They cross a bend in the path, and soon a small building in the midst of the jungle comes into view, its walls nearly covered by vines and plants. It may not be the most suitable resting place, but Wanderer doesn't particularly care when it's raining this heavily. He can hear thunder in the distance, a lingering reminder of his creator and the Electro she wields. Wanderer has never liked thunderstorms because of it, and he'd prefer to hide away than listen to its vibrations.
He turns his head back slightly to give his companion a look. ]
Did you hear me, mage?
[ Their gazes meet, and he notes that Mona's seafoam green eyes are strikingly bright under her hat. Behind her, her long, black twintails are tousled by the wind rushing at their sides. And like Wanderer expected, it seems the rain has gotten to her clothes, too.
There's little time to waste. ]
no subject
[ This isn't entirely true, because Mona is equally as eager to get indoors, where there'll be a roof over her head. Her large hat won't save her from the massive downpour (and she wouldn't want it to get too drenched, anyway) -- but it also won't obscure the small house up ahead in the jungle. It seems small, modest, abandoned. It may not be the sturdiest of homes, sure, but Mona has spent enough time outdoors to know that beggars can't be choosers.
She's close behind him when he calls out to her, and Mona rolls her eyes at his sass. Goodness, he's quite impatient, isn't he? But she's close behind him, and when their eyes meet, her gaze isn't quite as sharp as it used to be with him. Still, she's pouting, and she huffs before she reaches past him to open the door. Thankfully, it's unlocked. ]
Yes, yes, loud and clear. I have a name, you know.
[ Hmph! She'll at least step aside to let him in first, though, even if her free hand goes onto her hip. ]
no subject
[ His voice is dry when he replies, but Wanderer doesn't linger outside any longer then necessary. He slips through the dilapidated doorway and into the darkness beyond it, cautiously glancing around in the instance of an unwanted guest. It doesn't take long to determine there isn't any other presence than their own. And deeming it safe enough, he reaches up to remove his large hat and set by the wall.
The wood creaks as he walks into what appears to be the main living space. There's a modest kitchen to the right and to the left, a short table with two chairs on either end of it. Wanderer doubts there is any food food here—it's helpful Mona brought her own. He doesn't have to eat, but she certainly does.
Turning a corner, he spots a wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. ]
...The stairs are here. Aren't you fortunate? You'll sleep on a bed tonight.
[ Mona has been following him around until now under the insistence of Buer and the Traveler, leaving her sometimes sleeping out under the stars with him. He had thought she'd resent this, but she was a surprisingly experienced camper. She remained full of surprises even after he altered the timeline. ]
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[ Mona may have been far more outraged by his insolence back when they first met, but some time has passed since then, and she's learned to take no -- well, less offense to his quips. This is just how Wanderer is, and she's mostly managed to adjust. It doesn't mean that her ego isn't sore and bruised from her time with her new companion. At least he's resourceful and observant, if nothing else.
Mona also does her own inspection of the place to make sure it's safe, and she sneaks a glance his way to ensure that he also feels that it's okay to stay here. She finds her answer in the way he removes his hat and sets it aside. She'll do the same, on her side of the room.
She finds a sink in the kitchen area, which she uses to squeeze out some of the rainwater from her hair. Her attention is grabbed when he mentions sleeping on a bed, and something about her expression seems to soften -- this is clearly a blessing, and it shows. The relief on her face fades as quickly as it came, though, and it mellows out into something more neutral. ]
... Fine. I can't deny that I am rather fortunate to find a place to rest my head tonight.
[ ...Even if sleeping under the stars wasn't all that bad, even with Wanderer's presence. Strange, that, isn't it?
She hears something quietly drop from the ceiling and onto the countertop next to her, though. She glances its way -- raindrops, slowly dripping from the ceiling. Unsurprising, but still a little bothersome. ]
Even if this house is a little...dilapidated. [ And after wringing out the last bits of water she can get out of her hair: ] It'll have to do. Make yourself comfortable.
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Whoever it belonged to likely surrendered it to the jungle years ago. However, there's enough upkeep to make me believe that we aren't its first visitors.
[ The building may be abandoned, but it isn't in an impossible state to live in. There's furniture, the tiny kitchen to prepare food, and a place to rest their heads. Though, he doesn't think Mona will use the bedding up there. It would be safer for her to roll out the thin blanket tucked away in her belongings. She'd be bitten up by bugs otherwise—that, or develop a nasty rash. Humans are considerably weak; it's a surprise at all they can survive out in the wilderness.
Wanderer turns to place Mona's bag onto the counter, rummaging through it for a few seconds before eventually pulling out a small packet, two mugs, and a camping pot. He inspects the packet first, and to his satisfaction, there appears to be enough green leaves there for the both of them. ]
Turn the faucet. If there's plumbing, I'll prepare tea.
[ He may not experience the chill from a rainstorm, but it will have affected Mona. If she were to ingest something hot, it would temporarily warm her and stave off the possibility of catching a cold. Usually, he would've left her to her own devices, but—over their time traveling together, he has admittedly softened up. Wanderer's tongue isn't as sharp, his remarks not as barbed as they once were. It's strange, but he has come to realize that, despite having been a thorn in his side since the beginning, Mona Megistus is an extraordinary individual. Her usage of astrology still intrigues him, even if he believes most of it is stupid. ]
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[ She says this as she walks out into the small lounge area, inspects the state of the couch -- it's not horrible, all things considered -- before she turns towards where Wanderer is standing. She fully intends on looking at that bedroom, even if she will, indeed, choose to sleep elsewhere with her blanket.
In the beginning, Mona may have protested against Wanderer freely searching through her belongings; now, there are things in there that belong to him, too. It feels more like a shared resource these days rather than something that she takes full ownership of. His offer to prepare the tea is a welcome one, especially with how chilly it is outside. ]
Let us hope that the plumbing's held up over the years, then. While you do that, I'm going to check the state of the bedding.
[ She takes a step towards her destination, and her heel clacks on the flooring beneath her -- she turns to give Wanderer a little glance, almost as if she doesn't entirely want to be without his company -- and then, she's off to see the sad state of the bug-ridden mattress. Soon enough, she's back in the kitchen, disgruntled. ]
So much for a bed to rest my head on tonight...though there's hardly any room to complain. I'll use the couch...
[ ...Which begs the question of where Wanderer will be able to get comfortable. It's why she trails off in thought, though the idea of them sharing the couch is embarrassing. Not deplorable, but the thought gets her to clear her throat. ]
T-that is, if you can find somewhere to sit, too. I'm more than used to sleeping on hard surfaces by now.
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Mona returns just a bit after he lights the stove. He glances over at her as she trudges into the kitchen, a sour look on her face that betrays how she's feeling. Beside them, flames dance under the pot, its warmth felt even from a distance. ]
Too many bugs? [ He crosses his arms. ] I'm sure they would've enjoyed your company tonight.
[ Even if he's mocking her, he can't fault Mona. She could, theoretically, try laying her blanket atop the mattress, but that would leave her without one to cover herself with. Being a human, she'd likely freeze than get a proper night's sleep. The couch gives her a slightly better chance, though that will be up to how far the temperature drops later in the night. ]
Use the couch, then. I don't require sleep and can sit in the kitchen.
[ It'll be an uncomfortable wooden chair, but he won't complain. ]
It wouldn't be the first time I've had to keep watch.
[ Some nights, rather than laying beside her, he'll sit in the corner of the tent instead, staring out into the jungle and listening to the sounds of nature. Buer instructs him to reflect on himself, so he does. However, there are also moments his gaze will rest on Mona. She always sleeps soundly, her blanket pulled up to her chin and obscuring her slender body, those pouty features softened. It's a vulnerable position, one she would've instantly rejected if he were still a Harbinger. Now, with his erasure, she has cast aside that version of him and accepted 'Wanderer'. He still wonders why it is she has put faith in him.
He'll continue to look after her, he supposes. ]
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[ Wanderer may as well call himself an expert in flustering the proudest Astrologist in all of Teyvat. Mona huffs and rolls her eyes, and her hands go to her hips, but her attention shifts to the running water almost immediately. It's yet another sign that Wanderer doesn't get under her skin nearly as much as he used to. Good, the plumbing works. (He can get to that tea and make up for lumping her in with the insects, she thinks.)
With Wanderer keeping watch, she knows that she'll feel...safe. Safe -- a word she didn't think she'd use with someone of his nature. However, he's proven time and time and again that he is a reliable companion. Even so, her gaze lingers on him thoughtfully before she averts her gaze, back onto the couch. ]
...If you insist...
[ She'll set up her blanket and place it on the sofa, but -- the tea. Besides, it'll be hard to sleep with all the sounds of thunder and lightning.
Mona makes her way over to the kitchen and pulls up one of the two wooden chairs there. The warmth from the stove is comforting, and she sits up straight before she decides to do some readings -- Mona does not disclose what she's trying to discern, but she nods to herself in silence.
Then: ]
Luckily, the weather tomorrow afternoon seems to be a little more favorable. We should be able to travel more comfortably.
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[ But he knows why she hadn't.
Mona has stressed before that she doesn't just divine for every little thing—it's how she can still be caught unaware. Wanderer thinks this facet of her is amusing; if you have the power, why not consistently use it to your advantage? And yet, Mona will linger about, careful not to abuse it more than necessary while emphasizing the importance of fate. For such a skilled astrologist, she is naive. That is what makes her enjoyable to tease, at least. ]
Or is this what you wanted? Playing house?
[ Wanderer chuckles under his breath, dropping the tea leaves into their individual mugs. He then follows it with a rush of boiling water, its steam unfurling up towards the ceiling and warming the small kitchen, pleasant in comparison to the biting winds. It doesn't take long for the scent of green tea to begin to permeant.
Mona's mug is placed in front of her with a clink, though not without a smug smile on Wanderer's part. ]
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[ And she's quite adamant about that. To her, using her skills on everyday things would be a waste of time and a complete disservice to an art that's supposed to be sacred, and treated with the utmost respect. It isn't just some tool for her to use freely, and Wanderer has never seemed to understand that. Oh, well. Most people haven't.
She rolls her eyes yet again at the mention of playing house. ]
Please. As if I'd choose to be stuck in a room with a brat like you.
[ She pouts as she says it, but the realization that this is probably one of the first times they've actually been in close, domestic quarters like this is what gets her to blush. There's a light pink color dusted on her cheeks, but it's very feint, and quickly covered by her raising her cup to sip on some of her tea.
It's good. Her eyes glance up to see him smiling smugly her way. ]
You look quite pleased with yourself. Are you that proud of the tea you've made?
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[ Being a 'brat', that is.
He coolly observes her as she sulks, that little nose of hers scrunched up in dismay. The first time they met, he had thought it, too, that Mona was remarkably easy to rile up. Admittedly, those earnest reactions bring out Wanderer's latent sadism; the urge to push her buttons and tease her near impossible to resist. If they were children, Wanderer might be the boy pulling her pigtails on the playground.
Mona brings her mug to her lips to drink, and he finds his gaze lingering on them. He only looks away when she speaks again, scoffing quietly. ]
It doesn't matter. I'd prefer if it were more bitter.
[ Despite saying so, Wanderer lifts his mug take a sip of his own. He has an unusual relationship with eating and drinking, but he will indulge on occasion. Green tea was the first thing he had ever consumed, and to this day, he doesn't dislike its flavor. ]
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She lowers her cup and quickly licks her lips. She's had more green tea now than she ever has, but it tastes good. It's always warm, too.
She can't help but chuckle at Wanderer's comment. ]
More bitter, to suit your personality? [ She shakes her head, though. Her smile is surprisingly bright. ] Oh, I'm joking, of course. I think it's perfectly fine as it is now.
[ Maybe it's the weather that makes it taste so good...or maybe it's because she knows who was behind the kettle...? ]
I've grown accustomed to the flavor of green tea by now, and -- [ ...ahem. ] I am quite fond of how you prepare it.
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(...is what he tells himself. Wanderer refuses to acknowledge that it brings him satisfaction to see her comfortable and well-fed each night. He may gripe about cooking, but he is surprisingly skilled in it. And with Mona's finances being a mess, she's clearly in need of the extra care.) ]
Then, enjoy it now, [ he says, turning away slightly to obscure his expression. ] The cold front will make tonight difficult for you. Without a campfire, this mug and a blanket will be your only source of warmth.
[ no, he cannot accept compliments....... that's embarrassing ]
Do you think you can manage it?
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Wanderer presents his question, almost like it's a challenge. She huffs . ]
Of course I'll be able to. I've lived through colder temperatures before.
[ ...with more things to keep her warm, that is. He's right in that she only has the mug and her blanket.
It won't be enough, and she knows that. But there isn't anything either of them can do to really fix that. She'll be fine, she tells herself. He's lucky that the cold won't bother him. ]
... You're concerned, aren't you?
i am FREE
...Or so he thought.
Buer and the Traveler had done their part in unravelling his past. Emotions he had long since buried resurfaced, and the pain, the misery he had felt for centuries, were exposed to the air like open wounds. And having been in his head, Buer knew what to do—the... fixation he has on Mona didn't go unnoticed, and she had assigned Mona to be his watchdog afterwards. He knew that this was her attempt at healing him.
It's true; Wanderer is concerned for Mona, just as he had been for the small boy and the humans ravaged by fire. ]
...You are frailer than you think.
[ He sets down his mug. ]
and then i took 5ever to reply
[ ...is her immediate response. It's quick, it's natural, but perhaps unfamiliar in the way she cuts herself off. This is where she would finish her sentence, insist that she's stronger than he thinks, but she's stunned by the way he answers her question. He doesn't deny that he's concerned. He admits that he is.
It's probably the most heartfelt thing he's told her thus far. Something stirs in her chest at his reply.
He cares. He cares and she knows it, now. It's why her defenses seem to lower in how she relaxes her shoulders, in how her cheeks turn a brighter shade of pink. Mona clears her throat, trying to cover up for her little fumble but failing to do so nevertheless. ]
Y-you don't have to worry so much. [ Her voice is quieter, now. ] I know we're quite different, but I'll be alright.
[ There's a pause. ]
I'm fully capable of returning the favor, too, you know.
grabs you and squeezes
But he doesn't.
Beside him, Wanderer can see her cheeks pinken. Mona then clears her throat in that typical way of hers, but when she speaks, her voice is noticeably lower. ]
Different... [ He repeats. ] I don't think you know how far that difference goes.
[ It's a vague reply. Is she aware that there is no heart beating in his chest? Has she noticed at all? Wanderer refuses to ask.
Silently, one gloved hand comes forward to grasp her chin. He tilts her head towards him, forcing Mona to look into his eyes. And for a wavering moment, he silently observes her, his brow furrowed slightly and a small frown setting his features. ]
How would you return it?
ratshakes these two
Is she aware? She thinks she is. She knows that Wanderer doesn't need sustenance. He doesn't get cold. Many things that would threaten her health are more like minor inconveniences to him. Even so, however, she remains unaware of the lack of a heart -- perhaps that simply means he's exemplified something akin to having one, so much so that she hasn't noticed.
The biggest difference between them, Mona thinks, much to her chagrin, is that he is far better at masking -- or perhaps not even feeling much at all -- than she is. She's trying to will away the flush on her cheeks, trying to pull her expression back to something neutral.
And then his hand touches her chin, forces her to look at him. It's her worst nightmare right now. The way her heart races is yet another thing she'd like to will away, but the heart wants what the heart wants.
And her heart would very much like to close the gap between them and -- ]
Y-you--
[ No. Ignore it, Mona. You're simply entranced because of the proximity, there is nothing else to it.
... Or, so she thinks. If it were that simple, she wouldn't be a sputtering mess. She can't even speak. She's just that red in the face. ]
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He can recognize the flush having settled in her cheeks, the way her lips part as she stares back at him. Those thick black brows of hers have also drawn up in apprehension. Truly, she appears to be speechless. ]
...Mona.
[ Breaking the spell, he soon lowers himself to close the distance between their faces. She can't escape, can't pull away—not with her chin between his fingers. And after pausing for only a fraction of a second, peering into her features once, Wanderer leans in—
...and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.
It's soft, the slightest pressure. A brush of his lips at most. Then, he draws back only an inch. ]
Because you're weak, I'll allow you to cling to me tonight. My warmth should be enough.
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the kiss happens in a way she doesn't expect. No, it's not a rough press of lips to hers like she thought it would be in that split second. Instead, it's a gentle, feather-light kiss to the corner of her mouth.
Her breathing grows a little heavier as her expression contorts into something utterly embarrassing. Her cheeks are undeniably red now, and she places her fingers on top of where Wanderer's lips brushed against hers ]
Y-you – I'm not weak!
[ Clinging isn't unwelcome. His warmth isn't, either. None of that diffuses her need to prove herself to him and show him that she means what she says.
Without giving it much thought, Mona grabs him by the collar and draws him in for a proper, actual kiss. Her lips firmly plant themselves onto his, and she holds it there for a second or two before she pulls away.
Mona puffs up despite herself, pouting in his direction. ]
T...there. See? I-I'm stronger than you think I am.
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Those two seconds feel both short and very long. Even when Mona releases him, he still feels caught up in her force, the warm pressure of her lips on his. If he had a heart, it'd surely be pounding in his chest from adrenaline. ]
...Hah.
[ Wanderer eventually manages a small huff of a laugh, drawing back slightly to study her face. ]
I should know better by now than to underestimate you.
[ Just as he thought, Mona Megistus continues to surprise him. She has always been different—if not his equal, then somehow a step ahead of him. Wanderer refuses to believe in her foolish stars, but there may be a single truth in them: he is destined to be wrapped around her littlest finger. ]
CRAWLS BACK
The core part of Mona Megistus, however, doesn't regret it at all. That side of her is what's evident, what's showing on her very flushed face and in how she looks back at him with some sort of determination in her eyes. What that determination is for is unclear, but it takes her a moment to reply to his retort with a scoff of her own. ]
Of course. Why, it isn't as if we've been traveling together for weeks now.
[ Looks like her bite's returned. Good, she thinks. She doesn't have to look like a coward in front of him anymore, even if it means suppressing the urge to run away and hide. ]
Victory is very clearly mine.
[ As if this were a competition. She says it with a small smirk on her lips, but her cheeks are still giving way to how flustered she truly is. ]
HOLDS YOU
Like her lips, they're soft, too.
Wanderer has lived centuries; he isn't inexperienced by any means, but it is very much different for there to be... affection in his body language, his expression. Long ago, when he'd gone by a different name, he allowed himself to feel this way. Those distinctly human feelings are resurfacing now. ]
'Victory'. Say it like that, and I might take it away from you.
[ He doesn't like losing, either. ]
Finish your tea, mage. I'll prepare your bed.
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Ironically, this is one of the rarer moments in which Wanderer is starting to draw something more submissive out of her, with how he touches her cheek, how his eyes soften. It's unusual for him to look this way. She's never seen it on him before, let alone see him offer to make her bed for her. He's always been one to let her take care of herself, which she's never had a problem with, but now...he's offering to do something so gentle for her. It does nothing to quell her embarrassment.
Mona will not stop him, though. Instead, she just looks down at her tea, averting her gaze so it doesn't stay on his anymore. ]
Fine, so long as you call me by my name. Just this once.
[ It's phrased like it's a quip, and it is – but she also just wants to hear him say it, even if it's only for tonight. Even if he never calls her Mona ever again. ]
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Wanderer can't help but snort to himself. If Mona had managed to continue peering up at him, she would've caught a surprisingly soft expression. ]
Fufu... You sound like a child.
[ Mona's selfish demand is terribly innocent. It reminds Wanderer of the unnamed boy from long ago, whom he had coddled and nursed. That small human had also made demands such as this one; 'sing to me or I won't sleep' or 'play with me and I'll peel fruits with you'. ]
Drink the remainder of your tea, Mona. [ There's an amusing lilt in his voice. ] And then prepare for bed.
[ His thumb strokes over her cheek once before Wanderer releases her entirely. ]