lichtenberg.

her gaze drops to the severed cord on the floor. probably not the best humour to serve with a stranger whom she just met at the tavern over shared dislike of amplified singing.

"do you think we should steal it?" she's still talking about the cord, obviously. albert's insisting on finishing his performance, with or without equipment. the only way to minimise damage is to ensure there is no fixing of the issue.

but no time for that. rosaria answers her own question while the taverngoers wrap up their reconvening. the fact of the matter is: that includes albert. tighnari closes his mouth the moment he spots the freak of nature clearing his throat.

there is no bite in his voice, only the banter typical of old friends. he has half a mind to drop a remark about cyno's rejection of the current matra uniform—corruption in the system and all that—but tighnari wants to see how long the gag will last.

"look, we've only got two more to try on. why don't you see if you like this?" he suggests, plucking another abomination from the pile. the sweater is purple, like electro. it is also green, blue, pink, and just as hideous as all the others before it. tighnari balls up the wool in his hands. "catch!"

after tossing over that sweater, tighnari on his part picks up the remaining one. he tugs the current mess of pom-poms off of his torso only to refashion it with what seems to be an embroidered likeness of the acting grand sage. huh.

"Ser, I don't even wear the uniform now," he says. "Nothing stopping me from not wearing any new uniform I enforce."

He petulantly poked out his tongue for added effect. Then with a huff he caught the last sweater thrown at him. Practically lobbed at his head. Oh gosh this one was nightmare fuel. ... maybe he'd send it to Candace.

still clad in the hideous alhaitham sweater, though, he places a hand on his hip and cocks his head at cyno. "don't take me for an ex-sage, now. i can't speak for god," he chooses his words deliberately—perhaps with a bit more fang than appropriate—but lesser lord kusanali is hardly around to frown at tighnari again. she is a magnanimous god, he marvels, kind still to the heretics who had caged her.

but not kind enough not to hand their leashes to tighnari. he smiles merrily.

"come on, though, it can't possibly be that itchy." he starts, just in time for the mousy seamstress to poke her head back in the room. seeing that the two men are on their last set of sweaters; she scuttles through the door, takes a few more measurements, asks a few more questions and finally peeps that she is finished.

she mentions something about tighnari and cyno each being welcome to take home a sweater of their choosing. tighnari tosses a glance cyno's way.

it is of course humans who throw a wrench into that. tighnari drags a palm down his face, sighing at the chaos before him. the dendrobium is a fickle thing befitting its symbolism, let alone an overseas speciman. the perimeter of its new bed should have been secured with far greater care. their gardeners have made it; now they lay in it.

but tighnari is called to bail them out as is oft the case, and for all of his lip, he has never refused. the hunter's path gleams in his grasp, emerging with an emerald flourish. his unexpected partner in this commission is the one and very same sister he remembers from the bar.

she wields cryo, tighnari has learned. all elements considered, today tips in their favor. the two of them combined should be able to make this lightning-quick.

what isn't? people who wear 50000 mismatching layers with a garrish flower pinned to their chest?

What on Teyvat did Tighnari mean by not too itchy though? It was horrendous, vile, foul, disgusting, evil material. Too itchy to think properly in. How do people wear this stuff normally? Linen was so much better. He glowered slightly at his friend.

"Sure," he replied. "The matra do need a uniform update. Maybe something with louder colours."

there is no bite in his voice, only the banter typical of old friends. he has half a mind to drop a remark about cyno's rejection of the current matra uniform—corruption in the system and all that—but tighnari wants to see how long the gag will last.

"look, we've only got two more to try on. why don't you see if you like this?" he suggests, plucking another abomination from the pile. the sweater is purple, like electro. it is also green, blue, pink, and just as hideous as all the others before it. tighnari balls up the wool in his hands. "catch!"

after tossing over that sweater, tighnari on his part picks up the remaining one. he tugs the current mess of pom-poms off of his torso only to refashion it with what seems to be an embroidered likeness of the acting grand sage. huh.

“Thank you for the explanation,” Nahida murmurs dreamily, turning an Aranara carving in her hands, its likeness remarkable for a vision crafted through the secondhand accounts of children. 

She drifts away from him to kneel at the foot of Gandharva Ville’s sloping, dirt paths that travelers must inevitably tread to enter Sumeru. It is the first sight they will happen upon when emerging from the caverns connecting the land to Liyue, and she wishes nothing more than for that sight to be a welcoming one, something that imparts the fondness she feels for her nation to foreigners at a single glance.

"No, I am quite alright."

Her eyes glow, blossoming in shades of green, and the vines snaking around along the roads recede into the ground.

what does he believe? the question is one to be mulled over, and tighnari thumbs his chin with a thoughtful nod. he answers as wholeheartedly as he would with any asker, unfettered where others may yet shrink in the presence of divinity.

"just to make sure, i assume you mean that your friends are those aranara?" she has all but confirmed their existence in her inquiry alone, if tighnari is not mistaken, but he is unchanged in his opinion.

"i think that the forest keeps plenty of secrets, even from me. that's another reason i keep doing what i do," he starts. "i wouldn't immediately write off their existence just because we're hearing about them from children. children are innocent, not stupid. besides, the aranara aren't the ones trying to hug spinocrocodiles for the kamera, so who's to talk?"

when god sings with her creations, will an aranara not be part of the choir? tighnari plucks another two figures from their box, content to position them plainly among the detangled vines. he does not have the greatest eye for beauty—that is a task more befitting of kaveh—but he trusts well enough that lesser lord kusanali will weigh in her input should she find something amiss.

We may not know where our wishes will end up. But together, they will light up the night sky and turn it as bright as day.

ABUNDANCE:

[NEW YEAR MARKETS] - With so many vendors setting up shop, now is the best time to purchase a trinket as a reminder of the new year, or to get some much needed errands done.

[WANMIN MEAT CART] - Despite how short a trip it is, Chef Mao has some classic recipes right on the water, along with some brand new cuisines just for the Lantern Rite. Try some classic Mora Meat pastry, Dragon Beard Noodles, or his latest: Rex Lapis’ Delight! 

[XINYUE KIOSK DESSERT CART] - If sweet treats are more your thing, just a few spots down is a stand specially reserved for Xinyue Kiosk’s brilliant desserts! Buy one dessert, get one free “New Moon Cake,” with not one, not two, but SEVEN original fillings.

[TEA TASTING] - Third-Round Knockout is offering a rare, once a year opportunity to personally taste test some of their newest flavors. Jasmine Pearl, Dragon Cinnamon Oolong, Aged Golden Dawn, Phoenix Fire Oolong, why not indulge in some of the finer things in life?

ELATION:

[DRAGON DANCE] - Join the Lantern Rite parade! With so many dragon puppets needing twice as many hands, join the show and dance until you drop.

[MAHJONG] - How about one of Liyue’s quickest games? Mahjong, known for its lightning rounds and fast-paced gameplay, is a classic this time a year. Surely you won’t be here all night…

[SHADOW PUPPETS] - Puppet shows are quite popular this time of year, using lights and small paper designs to convey thrilling tales. Comedies, Romance, Tragedies, woe, these poor hearts will be forever changed.

[DRESS UP] - Red and gold, the colors of each festival this time of year, are absolutely stunning. Glimmer and shine for the kamera, dress up and serve on the runway.

BEAUTY:

[LANTERN MAKING] - Each year, we send up glorious lanterns with our thoughts, prayers, and hopes for the future, and what makes them so special is that no one lantern is the same. Create your own work of art to carry on into the vast expanses of the night.

[CUSTOM FIREWORKS] - Art is passion and desire, fleeting as it is eternal. With brilliant dyes, light up the night in a wondrous explosion for just a moment, and create those lasting memories.

[DRAGON CHARMS] - Representing good luck and strength, creating a little charm of the dragon itself can often inspire hope while passing into the next year. Though, many Adepti now have become popular faces of such ornaments.

[JADE TALISMAN] - Pure and indestructible, jade is the embodiment of virtue and benevolence. Taking days to etch at a time, these talismans are truly a rare and valuable gift.

HARMONY:

[WORSHIPPING ADEPTI] - The protectors of Liyue are often secluded and forgotten about per their distance, though for the Lantern Rite, small shrines of each prominent Adeptus are made. With incense burning, make a prayer or offering to the illuminated beasts.

[PROSPERITY TOSS] - A common tradition to signify the end of the year and the birth of a new one is to create a bowl of fruits, vegetables, fish, and other fresh foods, and to feast. Many restaurants host these during the Lantern Rite to bring us together.

[RED ENVELOPES] - Though much more common, a sign of good faith and friendship often comes in the form of a red envelope. Containing a small sum of mora, each envelope is a gesture of amity.

Terribly itchy too when it was pulled over his head, helmet set to the side.

"Well, I think that sweater suits you."

Cyno hated it, honestly. He had to force himself to keep his hands from scratching insistently. But.... despite this, he could turn it into a little fun... Though he was struggling to come up with a good joke while his mind was so focused on ignoring the iching.... a bad joke would do though. His sweater looked a little bit like one of those fir trees... just decorated.

"Well, it leaves a lot to be desired... but fir the price the seamstress is considering, it would be a bit of a .... tree-mendous crime to not appreciate it," he hummed. Archon that wasn't his best, but he'd tried.

(it wasn't even one of cyno's better ones. tighnari wonders they sell tomatoes by the pound nearby, but he dog-ears that thought for now.)

"puffier than i'd like," spoken with a shrug, "but this wool blend isn't too itchy, at least. you look like you're about to implode over there."

he doesn't realize or remember the exact moment his lips began to curl up, but it's inevitable—laughter is contagious, and even moreso from a friend. even tighnari cannot stave it off forever.

she surveys him with quiet eyes. maybe one heartbeat more on the lump hiding under his hood. curiosity bubbles but is quickly silenced by the ongoing torment.

rosaria does not cater, but seldom does something irritate her to the point of rage. amplified singing, for one, does the job. she will not stand another second of this misery.

as her blade cuts through the cord, it unleashes a diabolical screech — she is not versed enough in mechanics to know what it was.

he sees more than hears what rosaria says. even then, he barely catches the shape of her mouth—but what's done is done, and the temporary numb is a manageable price to pay for the eradication of albert's solo.

once the bar's commotion reroutes to its abrupt technical issues, tighnari sighs with another rub to his ears.

when the invite came, everyone at the cathedral was exhilarated. naturally singing enthusiasts, the choir was too absorbed in the idea of singing a hymn at angel's share that nobody heard rosaria's quiet confusion, and she was left to find out in person.

what's karaoke? the answer differs from person to person.

to diluc, it must be a business opportunity. the tavern is already packed by the time rosaria arrives, with someone on the makeshift stage on the microphone. rosaria heads to the bar to find that no, there is no freeflow offer tonight, but if she decides to sing, charles is happy to make her one for free as to applaud her courage.

no way. rosaria doesn't even consider. she puts down mora and grabs her pint.

she sits at the corner during her first pint, willing herself to tune out the horrible yet passionate singing. by the time she empties her mug, her patience has worn off completely.

like a shadow, she sneaks around the crowd, watchful eyes searching for the source of power that enabled such grating loudness. it is surprisingly easy, unlike the complicated puzzles on their everfrost mountains — she simply follows the cord.

she kneels and reaches for her kunai, ready to cut it once and for all. at the same time, a gloved hand reaches for the cord too, the colour and design hinting at the presence of a tourist.

"......" rosaria meets the other with a silent stare, trying to identify his intentions.

he certainly feels like he has been. the raucous clamor of the tavern is ten times worse than that of the grand bazaar, amplified by four cramped walls and a wretched wired device.

all that was required from tighnari would be his attendance, the invitation had claimed. but nothing in life comes so easy, and now he seethes in a corner wishing he had taken any other commission. while he is hardly one to disturb the peace—at least in most cases—the stakes were growing dire, and rapidly so. the one named alfred is next in line for the floor, and tighnari thinks another five songs hailing this "sister barbara" will inflict irreparable damage to his eardrums. alfred can carry his liquor with a bucket, but the same cannot be said about a tune.

and so tighnari stands. he slinks with the shadows along the back wall; his sunken eyes pursue the wire, possessed by a singular goal. just when he has finally found the power source of this madness, reaching out to yank the cursed cord, he freezes. with the strongest of his five senses so debilitated, he had been unable to hear someone else approaching.

he volleys back the woman's stare, the top of his head still wrapped ridiculously by his hood.

"... ... ..."

his eyes slowly roll down to the weapon in her hand. then they lift back up to her face. back down to the weapon. back again to her face. a watcher doing what he does best: watch. his national visitation rights may depend on whatever happens next.

Even hiding in the undergrowth isn't enough to escape the eyes of a Forest Watcher.

This place is great, isn't it? Not only is the scenery incredible, but it's quiet too. Scholars always choose spots like this to go meditate.

Whenever I go out on patrol, I come check if there's anyone who needs my help. Over time, I came to understand why it's so special — it's a great place to calm your mind and organize research materials.

The Kshahrewar Darshan actually invented a nifty little gadget for this exact problem!

her designs do leave a bit to be desired. "th-they're hideous on purpose!" she had sputtered almost immediately. "i swear! i swear on my entire hoard of stuffed animals!" and that had been that.

"well, i think that sweater suits you." tighnari smiles wryly at cyno's latest abomination. perhaps the good general will have brought a matching joke.

yet tighnari has little room to speak. tighnari himself is fashioning a tangle of vines and antlered deer all over his torso, wooly yarns woven into cacophonies of colors. an obscene disservice to the sheep that was shorn.

in short, they both look ridiculous. still, the seamstress insists tighnari and cyno are helping her, flitting in and out of the parlor between taking their measurements and adjusting pins appropriately.