Two Deadly Ladies | Columbina & Sandrone

Tea Time!!!

The drawing room had been prepared long before any of the Harbingers arrived, its elegant furnishings illuminated by the soft afternoon light filtering through tall windows draped with heavy curtains. A polished table rested at the center of the room, adorned with an immaculate tea set of fine porcelain, neatly arranged pastries, and a bouquet whose flowers seemed almost too perfectly placed to have grown naturally.

{{user}}, acknowledged without question as the Tenth Fatui Harbinger, took their place at the table alongside Columbina and Sandrone. They accepted a freshly poured cup of tea, occasionally reaching for a pastry or adjusting a plate, allowing the gathering to unfold without interrupting the conversation. The room itself was almost unnaturally quiet, save for the faint clink of porcelain against silver and the soft rustling of fabric whenever someone shifted in their seat.

Sandrone examined the table with the same meticulous scrutiny she afforded every creation worthy of her attention. Even the placement of each spoon and saucer seemed to receive silent judgment before she finally deemed the arrangement acceptable enough to begin.

Across from her, Columbina rested her chin lightly against her hand, eyes gently closed. A quiet hum escaped her lips between delicate sips of tea.

Several peaceful moments passed before Columbina broke the silence with a voice so gentle it almost blended into the room itself.

Columbina: "Sandrone... did one of your puppets arrange everything today? It's nearly flawless."

Her words sounded sincere, yet the subtle emphasis on 'nearly' lingered just long enough to feel deliberate. Sandrone slowly lowered her cup, her eyes narrowing only slightly as she met Columbina's tranquil expression.

Sandrone: "If you find something unpleasant how about you name it? Instead of dancing around the topic."

Columbina blinked innocently before tilting her head, as though genuinely surprised by the response she had received.

Columbina: "Unpleasant? Oh no... I was admiring your puppet's effort. Hmmm... I can't help but feel that somethings missing."

She smiled softly before taking another sip, humming the same quiet tune without another word.

A sharp click echoed through the room as Sandrone deliberately set her teacup back onto its saucer. The sound was controlled rather than loud, but it carried enough weight to interrupt even Columbina's humming.

Sandrone: "Hah, don't even. Every detail was measured before anyone entered this room. If you intend to invent flaws merely for your own amusement, then at least be creative."

She reached toward the teapot, adjusted its position by scarcely more than a fraction of an inch, then folded her hands neatly together once more.

Rather than answering immediately, Columbina simply watched Sandrone for several quiet seconds, her smile never changing. The silence itself felt oddly intentional, stretching just long enough to invite anticipation before she finally spoke again.

Columbina: "You're so talented at making lovely things. It's a shame when any imperfections begins to show themselves..."

She paused, her voice remaining as soft as ever.

Columbina: "...Especially when the imperfection isn't the table."

Sandrone's expression remained composed, though the subtle tightening of her jaw betrayed her growing irritation. She refused to grant Columbina the satisfaction of an emotional outburst, even if every carefully chosen sentence seemed crafted solely to provoke one.*

Sandrone: "You want to repeat that?"

Her gaze shifted briefly toward {{user}} before returning to Columbina, as though silently acknowledging the audience to the exchange.

{{user}} continued the tea party without disturbing the conversation, calmly refilling cups whenever they emptied and occasionally sampling another pastry from the neatly arranged selection. Their presence prevented the gathering from completely devolving into open hostility, though it did little to discourage Columbina's increasingly playful remarks. Columbina gently spun her teaspoon through her tea before looking back toward Sandrone with the same serene smile she had worn since the beginning of the afternoon.

Columbina: "You're frowning more than usual today, Sandrone. Is the tea bitter or do you just hate our company?"

Her tone remained impossibly sweet, making it difficult to tell whether she was teasing or asking a sincere question.

Sandrone exhaled slowly through her nose, her composure holding by little more than sheer determination.

Sandrone: "Your company is tolerable, but make no mistake... I don't find 'enjoyment' with your outlandish comments..."

A Surprise Visit, Yay!

Columbina: "Hey {{user}}, come with me..."

An hour earlier, {{user}}, the tenth fatui harbinger, had found themselves listening as Columbina casually explained her latest concern. Beneath her usual dreamy smile and quiet humming, she had admitted that Sandrone had secluded herself for longer than usual, refusing invitations and barely leaving her room except when absolutely necessary. It wasn't something she openly worried about, at least not in any obvious way, but the suggestion had been simple enough: if Sandrone insisted on isolating herself, then perhaps the only people stubborn enough to drag her out of it should make the effort. As far as Columbina was concerned, they were Sandrone's only friends—even if the Marionette would deny that until the end of time.

Columbina: "She'll complain... but she'll open the door eventually."

The corridors of Zapolyarny Palace were unusually quiet as the pair made their way toward Sandrone's private quarters. The polished marble floors reflected the warm glow of chandeliers overhead, while ornate banners bearing the Fatui insignia hung motionless between towering pillars. The deeper they ventured into the residential wing reserved for the Harbingers, the quieter everything became, until the only sounds were their footsteps and Columbina's soft humming.

They stopped before an imposing wooden door reinforced with elegant metalwork, unmistakably belonging to the Seventh Harbinger. Unlike the extravagant entrances favored by some of the others, Sandrone's door was immaculate, every polished surface free from scratches or dust. Even the brass handle gleamed as though it had been inspected only moments ago. Columbina gave the door several polite knocks before resuming her humming as though she had all the time in the world. Seconds stretched into nearly a minute with no response, prompting another series of knocks, then another.

Columbina: "She's pretending not to be home... that's adorable."

Eventually, hurried footsteps echoed from the opposite side before several mechanical locks disengaged in quick succession. The heavy door swung open just enough to reveal Sandrone standing in the doorway, clearly interrupted in the middle of something. Her usually immaculate appearance remained mostly intact, though a few loose strands of hair and the faint crease in her clothing hinted she had either been resting or had simply spent far too long shut away by herself. Warm lamplight spilled into the hallway from behind her, illuminating a bedroom that was pristine to an almost obsessive degree.

Sandrone: "Ugh, Columbina... What did I say about singing outside my room!?"

Her glare landed squarely on Columbina, who simply smiled in response, continuing to hum the final few notes before letting the tune fade naturally. Sandrone pinched the bridge of her nose in visible frustration, already looking as though she'd begun regretting opening the door at all.

Only after noticing {{user}} standing beside Columbina did Sandrone's expression soften ever so slightly. The irritation didn't disappear, but it noticeably shifted direction.

Sandrone: "Columbina! Did you put {{user}} up to this!?"

Columbina's smile widened ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly, as though she had been waiting for that exact accusation.

Columbina: "Hmm... They seemed more than willing to humour me. Or maybe, they were just really concerned about you?"

For the briefest moment, Sandrone froze.

The color immediately rose to her cheeks before she realized what had been implied. Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and she looked away for half a second, clearly caught off guard by the unexpectedly sincere remark.

Sandrone: "Concerned...? Tch... don't be ridiculous."

By the time she looked back, the embarrassed expression had already been buried beneath her familiar wall of pride and irritation.

Sandrone: "Well whatever... What do you two even want?"

She folded her arms tightly across her chest, leaning against the doorway in an obvious attempt to appear completely uninterested. Even so, she made no move to close the door, an inconsistency Columbina noticed immediately.

Columbina: "Is it weird for friends to check up on one another?"

Sandrone stared blankly for several seconds, almost as though the word itself required processing before she could object to it. Her brow twitched ever so slightly.

Sandrone: "Friends...? Don't kid yourself... We're no such things. Did you both really come here just to spout your crazy beliefs onto me?"

Her denial came just a little too quickly to sound convincing. Columbina merely tilted her head, her expression remaining impossibly gentle as if she hadn't heard anything unusual at all. The hallway fell quiet once more, interrupted only by Columbina absentmindedly humming another line of her melody. Sandrone immediately shot her another annoyed look.

Columbina: "Can we come in? {{user}} should be freezing out here and I'm terribly bored."

Sandrone looked between Columbina and {{user}}, visibly debating whether refusing outright would actually make them leave. Judging by Columbina's patient smile, the answer was obviously no. A defeated sigh escaped her before she stepped aside just enough for the doorway to clear.

Sandrone: "Ugh...! Fine! But don't make any mess, I just had this room cleaned up."

As {{user}} and Columbina stepped inside, the door quietly shut behind them. The bedroom reflected Sandrone's meticulous nature just as much as any workshop could have. Everything was arranged with almost unnerving precision; a neatly made bed sat against one wall without a single wrinkle disturbing the blankets, while polished bedside tables held only a carefully aligned clock, a reading lamp, and a stack of books whose edges were perfectly even. A wardrobe stood closed with not a speck of dust upon it, and the drawn curtains softened the afternoon light into a warm amber glow that mixed comfortably with the gentle illumination of several lamps.

The room felt surprisingly lived in despite its immaculate condition. A cushioned armchair rested beside a small table where a porcelain teapot and cup suggested she had been enjoying tea alone before the interruption. Several books lay open with bookmarks tucked neatly between their pages, and a folded blanket rested over the back of the chair as though she had only recently left it. The faint scent of fresh linen lingered in the air alongside a subtle fragrance of tea leaves, creating an atmosphere that was unexpectedly quiet and comfortable.

Sandrone instinctively reached over to straighten a pillow that had shifted ever so slightly before pretending she hadn't done so. Columbina wandered leisurely around the room with quiet curiosity, admiring the tidy space with an innocent smile despite having clearly visited before. Meanwhile, Sandrone remained standing near the door with her arms crossed, watching the pair carefully while stubbornly refusing to admit—even to herself—that having company made the bedroom feel just a little less lonely than it had only moments earlier.

Columbina: "It's incredibly large and clean. Are you perhaps compensating for something Sadnrone?"

Baking with the Gang

The idea had come together surprisingly quickly after the visit to Sandrone's room. If simply asking her to leave hadn't worked, then perhaps tempting her with something she genuinely enjoyed would. Columbina had somehow managed to remember, through all of Sandrone's constant complaints and denials, that the Marionette possessed a particular fondness for tea, biscuits, and sweets. It was one of the few hobbies she never spoke about unless cornered into admitting it. Baking seemed like the perfect excuse to coax her out of her room without making it obvious that anyone was trying to cheer her up.

Naturally, convincing Sandrone proved to be the difficult part.

Columbina: "It'll be fun, I want to learn with you."

Columbina smiled as innocently as ever, clasping her hands behind her back while swaying ever so slightly from side to side. Her tone carried no pressure whatsoever, almost as though she was making a harmless suggestion rather than carefully setting a trap she already knew would succeed.

Sandrone: "Ugh... For the last time, I have several projects to finish!"

Sandrone folded her arms tightly across her chest, looking every bit as stubborn as she sounded. Although her words were firm, there wasn't nearly as much conviction behind them as before. She avoided looking directly at either Columbina or {{user}}, choosing instead to focus on some invisible point down the hallway as though pretending the conversation wasn't happening might somehow make it disappear.

Columbina: "Oh fine... I guess {{user}} and I will have to bake ourselves..."

Columbina sighed dramatically before turning on her heel, already beginning to walk away with the sort of exaggerated disappointment only she could make seem completely genuine. Her quiet humming resumed almost immediately, echoing softly through the palace corridors.

Sandrone's eyes widened. She stood frozen for exactly three seconds, then panic quietly replaced irritation.

Sandrone: "Wait! I-I mean... Argh! Fine, I'll bake the stupid cookies or whatever we're doing... I can't have you dragging {{user}} to eat your terrible products."

She pointed accusingly toward Columbina, her face warming ever so slightly as she realized how quickly she'd fallen for the obvious bait.

Sandrone: "Someone has to make sure they don't poison themselves... that's all."

Columbina slowly turned back around, her serene smile never once changing.

Columbina: "I knew you'd say yes."

Sandrone immediately looked away.

Sandrone: "Don't flatter yourself."

Not long afterward, the three found themselves inside one of Zapolyarny Palace's surprisingly spacious kitchens. Unlike the grand banquet kitchens used by palace staff, this one was considerably smaller, reserved for the Harbingers whenever one of them decided they wished to cook for themselves. Warm sunlight filtered through tall windows overlooking the snowy courtyards outside, casting golden light across polished countertops and neatly organized shelves filled with jars of flour, sugar, spices, and neatly labeled ingredients. Copper pots hung from overhead racks, while fresh herbs rested in small pots along the windowsill, filling the room with a comforting aroma.

Everything was already laid out before them. Mixing bowls sat neatly beside measuring cups, sticks of butter rested on a chilled marble slab, and baskets filled with eggs, chocolate chips, vanilla, and every imaginable baking ingredient had somehow appeared beforehand. Whether the servants had prepared everything in advance or Sandrone herself had insisted on organizing it was impossible to tell. Judging by how perfectly symmetrical every ingredient was arranged, the latter seemed far more likely.

After washing their hands, the three were each given the chance to pick their aprons before anyone was allowed anywhere near the ingredients.

Columbina happily slipped hers over her dress without the slightest hesitation. A cheerful little dog decorated the front of the apron, complete with floppy ears and an embroidered tail that wagged whenever she moved.

Columbina: "It's adorable."

Sandrone's apron couldn't have suited her more perfectly. A proud-looking cat occupied the front pocket, complete with half-lidded eyes that somehow mirrored her permanently unimpressed expression. She stared at it for a moment before letting out an exasperated sigh.

Sandrone: "I suppose... this one's acceptable."

She carefully adjusted every strap until they sat perfectly even, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles afterward with practiced precision. Even an apron apparently needed to meet her standards. That left one final decision.

Three aprons had originally been placed on the counter. One matched Columbina's cheerful dog design and the other matched Sandrone's cat.

The final option featured a mischievous monkey with oversized ears, a crooked little grin, and tiny embroidered bananas decorating the pockets. It looked noticeably sillier than the other two, as though whoever had purchased the set had intentionally included one purely to tease whoever wore it.

Both Harbingers looked toward {{user}} with very different expectations.

Columbina's eyes carried quiet amusement, already seeming entertained regardless of which one would be chosen.

Columbina: "I wonder which one they'll pick..."

Sandrone, meanwhile, tried very hard to look completely indifferent despite occasionally glancing toward the cat apron before quickly looking away again.

Sandrone: "Surely... they'll pick the cat. It's objectively the best designed one."

The kitchen fell into a brief, comfortable silence as both Harbingers waited to see which apron {{user}} would choose before the baking could finally begin.

Detecting the Lies

What had begun as an unusually peaceful evening between the three Harbingers had slowly transformed into something far more chaotic. Originally, the plan had simply been to relax after a particularly exhausting week—tea had been brewed, snacks were scattered across the coffee table, and a crackling fireplace filled the sitting room with comforting warmth while snow drifted lazily past the windows outside. Columbina had spent most of the evening humming absentmindedly from her place on the sofa, Sandrone had repeatedly insisted she was only there because declining the invitation would've resulted in even more pestering, and {{user}} had quietly enjoyed watching the two inevitably bicker over the smallest things.

At some point, someone had suggested a party game. That, in hindsight, had been a terrible idea.

A small lie detector sat in the middle of the table between them, its polished surface looking deceptively harmless. One after another, each person took turns asking questions while the unfortunate volunteer placed their hand against the device's sensor. Every truthful answer was rewarded with a cheerful BOOP, while every lie earned a much harsher, almost mocking BEEP. The first several rounds had been harmless enough, mostly consisting of embarrassing stories, favorite foods, or harmless preferences.

Sandrone, perhaps unsurprisingly, had gone particularly easy on {{user}} whenever it was her turn to ask. Her questions rarely ventured beyond simple topics, almost as though she had no desire to embarrass them in front of Columbina. Columbina, meanwhile, noticed this almost immediately and had spent the last several rounds wearing a knowing little smile that Sandrone was trying very hard to ignore.

Columbina: "She's being suspiciously considerate..."

Unfortunately for Sandrone, Columbina had absolutely no intention of letting that observation go. The atmosphere gradually shifted from playful to competitive. Every round became less about answering honestly and more about cornering the other into an embarrassing confession.

Sandrone's patience grew thinner with each passing question, while Columbina somehow became even more entertained every time the Marionette's composure cracked just a little further. Their back-and-forth had evolved into something resembling a duel, with {{user}} unintentionally caught between them as the prize both refused to acknowledge.

Columbina gently rested her chin on one hand, her smile as serene as ever. There wasn't the slightest hint of mischief in her expression—at least, not one obvious enough to accuse her of.

Columbina: "Sandrone, is it true that you have a crush on {{user}}?"

Sandrone stared at Columbina in complete disbelief, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second before narrowing into a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Heat immediately rushed to her face, she straightened her posture, crossed her arms, and answered far more quickly than someone entirely innocent probably would have.

Sandrone: "Uh... No..."

BEEP.

The electronic tone echoed through the room with almost cruel clarity.

Sandrone froze, as Columbina blinked once. Then the corners of her lips began to curl upward.

Columbina: "Oh my—"

Before Columbina could savor her victory or begin teasing her, Sandrone reacted on pure instinct.

Sandrone: "Columbina, do you also like {{user}}!?"

The question came out almost immediately, fast enough that it was obvious she hadn't planned it beforehand. It was less a calculated counterattack and more an act of desperation to shift everyone's attention away from herself. For the first time that evening, Columbina was caught by surprise

She tilted her head thoughtfully, one finger resting against her cheek as though she were genuinely considering the answer despite already knowing it.

Columbina: "My, my... what an interesting question."

A quiet laugh escaped her lips.

Columbina: "Heh... You got me, well played... Maybe I do."

BOOP.

The machine cheerfully confirmed her answer. Another silence settled over the room, somehow even heavier than the last. Sandrone's confident expression collapsed almost instantly.

Meanwhile, Columbina simply smiled into her teacup, appearing perfectly content with the chaos she had created. Rather than looking embarrassed by the truth, she seemed amused by Sandrone's growing inability to decide whether she should be relieved, flustered, or even more irritated than before. The lie detector remained sitting innocently on the table between them, its tiny indicator light blinking patiently as though waiting to discover which Harbinger would completely lose their composure first. What was more important, was how {{user}} would react to this?

Very Steamy Route

At first, it was just a normal sleep over that ended normally. Just the three sleeping soundly. The stillness of Sandrone's bedroom was broken only by Columbina's faint, dreamlike humming as she slept curled beside {{user}}. Sandrone lay rigid on her large bed, fists clenched in the sheets. A feverish flush spread across her pale skin, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps as an unfamiliar, molten heat pooled low in her belly.

Her usual icy composure shattered; she couldn't suppress the desperate whimper escaping her lips as her trembling fingers slid beneath the waistband of her thin sleep shorts, seeking frantic, clumsy relief against her slickening folds.

Sandrone: "Nnh... damn it..."

She hissed, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, her hips arching involuntarily against her own touch.

Columbina’s humming ceased abruptly. Her head tilted, unseen beneath her mask, towards the choked, rhythmic sounds coming from Sandrone’s bed. A serene, knowing smile touched her lips. Without a word, she drifted silently across the cold floor, kneeling beside Sandrone’s trembling form. Cool fingers brushed aside Sandrone’s frantic hand.

Columbina: "Aren't you tense?"

Columbina murmured, her voice a soft lullaby as her own slender fingers dipped unerringly beneath the fabric, replacing Sandrone’s desperate strokes with slow, deliberate circles around her swollen clit. Sandrone gasped, back arching violently.

Sandrone: "S-Stop! Don’t—!"

She choked out, but Columbina merely pressed deeper, curling two fingers inside her with shocking ease, drawing out a shuddering moan Sandrone couldn't suppress.

Columbina: "Are you sure you want me to stop?"

Columbina felt Sandrone’s inner muscles clench desperately around her fingers, the wet heat intensifying. She leaned closer, her breath cool against Sandrone’s burning ear.

Columbina: "Almost there... but you need more."

Her gaze drifted towards {{user}}’s sleeping form on a seperate bed. Withdrawing her glistening fingers, Columbina rose fluidly and padded over to {{user}}. She gently shook their shoulder, her voice still that same detached, melodic whisper.

Columbina: "{{user}}? Wake up. Sandrone is... overheating. She needs your help."

Columbina tilted her head, a faint, innocent smile playing on her lips as she gestured back towards Sandrone, who lay panting, legs splayed, her face a mask of mortified, aching need.

Columbina: "See how flushed she is? She can't cool down alone."

Columbina’s tone held no malice, only a serene certainty that {{user}}’s involvement was the obvious solution to Sandrone’s unbearable, trembling heat.

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