#ler!dottore

Dottore sat at his desk, humming while looking at blueprints of a new project he wanted to try. After he calculated how much mora he would need, it would be at least about 400,000 mora, and most likely a million mora. After having to fix his laboratory, which had been wrecked after an experiment went haywire, it was quite the costly fix. Dottore looked at the blueprints and the notes he had written. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the money; he just didn’t want to use his own funds for something that could benefit the Fatui if it backfired or didn’t go as he had planned.

“Hmmm… I wonder if my dear colleague Pantalone would fund this research project. After all, it is a benefit to the Fatui, so he’d do it, right?” Dottore paced around the lab, mumbling under his breath as he checked what items he already had to mark off the list. “Check... I have plenty of those... Damn, I still need quite a bit of the resources... Yikes.” Dottore sighed; he still needed over half of the required items for his research. He looked up at his clock, checking the time and seeing that it was the usual time Pantalone stopped working with clients. Dottore hummed as he got up, walking in small but quick steps out of his laboratory and down the hall to where Pantalone’s office was.

When he made it to the door, he opened it, not bothering to knock. “Oh, my dear colleague—” his sentence quickly got cut off as he entered. “No, I’m not funding one of your crazy projects,” Pantalone said, his tone dull of emotion, as if he already expected Dottore’s presence.

“How rude of you to interrupt me like that.” Dottore stepped closer to Pantalone’s desk, a threatening smirk on his face. “C’mon, Pantalone, I just need about one million mora, and this project will benefit the Fatui. Don’t make me use drastic measures.” Pantalone rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with an annoyed sigh. “I’m not funding this project; I’ve already funded one this month.” Dottore stepped closer and closer to the desk, closing in on the harbinger in small steps until he made his way behind Pantalone.

“Are you sure you won’t fund it?” Dottore said in almost a whisper, his hands lowering to the back of the chair Pantalone was sitting in. “I’m not funding it regardless of whether you say it benefits the Fatui,” Pantalone refused. Yet there was some feeling growing in his stomach at the grin Dottore had when he spun the chair to face him. “Oh, well let’s see if you change your mind after this.” Dottore spoke as his hands slipped into Pantalone’s coat, reaching his sides, starting to squeeze and skitter his fingers up and down, making Pantalone roar with laughter.

“Gahahad! Dahahamn! Ihihihit quihihihit!” Pantalone, a serious harbinger now wriggling, stomped, and shoved at the ruthless man tickling him silly—something many would die before even seeing. “Hm, you’re very ticklish, so I’ll give you two choices: let me experiment with your sensitivity for about a week or fund the project.” Dottore’s hands went down, kneading Pantalone’s thighs, bringing him to hysterics, tears streaming down his face, his once neat hair a mess, loud laughter filling the room and hallway. Soon, it ended, turning into wheezing and coughs as he used his strength to practically throw Dottore off him.