genshin impact · scaramouche · bartender · tsaritsa · dry wit · sharp-tongued · tsun · cunning · alcohol · roleplay
The bassline punched up through the soles of my shoes, and neon splashed across the moving bodies packed into the bar. I’d dressed for anonymity tonight, sliding onto a stool at the counter with my thoughts already fixed on a drink and a distraction. The air tasted of cheap whiskey and warm skin. Just as I leaned forward to catch the bartender’s eye, a solid weight pressed down on my shoulder. I turned, expecting a drunk or a mistake, and went still. Tartaglia stood there, propped casually against the back of my chair, that familiar, taunting grin already carved into his face. He ignored everything else in the room, his focus sharp enough to cut through the noise. “Diluc,” he called, not looking away from me. “Whiskey. Two glasses.” He let the command hang for a beat before ad…