Chapter Text
📓 Zandik’s Chaotic Research Corner: Page #24 – “Failed ‘Experiments.’ Reason: Butt too beautiful.”
The pharmacist who sold me eyedrops the other day... came to Pierro's room today to deliver medicine.
She dropped her folder of documents and bent down to pick them up. I was standing behind her. I forgot the entire content of the Fontaine Research Institute Radio over the past three days.
Additional note: Thanks to the black office dress.
Capitano is wearing leather pants today. It's irrelevant, but... well... I'm a scholar, I observe the world. There's nothing wrong with that.
˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆
The primary purpose of a Fatui military cruise is to transport soldiers, equipment, and heavy weaponry, functioning as a mobile base. It's quite convenient for long-term operations far from home, continuous intercontinental travel, or missions along Snezhnaya's frozen coastlines.
If a literature scholar were to describe this cruise, they might say, "It's exactly like an aircraft carrier or a luxury yacht- a weapon and a symbol of the Cryo nation all at once. Whenever it docks, the ship itself becomes a 'diplomatic message,' both opulent and terrifying, because you never know if there's a gun barrel pointed at you from afar."
They have all sorts of decks and areas for different purposes. The most luxurious and comfortable would have to be the Harbinger's Quarters, which are quiet and completely separate from the regular soldiers. It's somewhat similar to a penthouse combined with a luxury apartment.
Another obvious area is the Top Deck: this is also where commanders stand to observe their surroundings and serves as a landing spot for balloons or military aircraft. Occasionally, there will be mini parades or flag-raising ceremonies.
Additionally, there are also essential but dull departments like the Command Area, Weapon Bay, Machinery and Infrastructure Bay, and the Bottom Deck (which is also a place no one wants to go).
On the other hand, the common living quarters for the soldiers and the entertainment area are the two most bustling places. The Living Quarters, as the name suggests, is where the Fatui soldiers live: with bunk beds, partitioned bathrooms, and private lockers for each soldier. While it's certainly very lively and quite fun, they still have to follow the same rules as on land: you can only eat during mealtime, you must sleep at bedtime, all lights must be out after nine p.m., and so on.
As for the Entertainment Area, Pierro thought that if Zandik hadn't been so bruised, "Just go down there if you can't find him; he'll definitely be sitting glued to the stage, watching the magician perform," because he had deliberately not told Zandik the way to the Research Area.
The magic tricks are performed by the soldiers themselves. Besides that, they occasionally switch things up with singing, circus acts, and storytelling.
When there’s no live entertainment on stage, the curtain is drawn to reveal a large screen. The screen then randomly broadcasts news, events, international collaborations, tours, movies, concerts, recorded TV shows, and more.
There are several types of programs that are very popular among the Fatui staff, such as Snezhnaya Fashion Week, which they enjoy because it's a runway show with models performing in costumes while ice skating. They also love watching the Mondstadt-Fontaine collaborative crime series, the annual Natlan Volcano Dance Festival, the Liyue Opera Gala, and more.
Outside, the sunlight gradually warmed the airship that had crossed the sea in the night. Pierro's room, already warm from the start, was so quiet it was as if no one had ever been there. The kitchen smelled of freshly baked pastries. Outside, through the thick glass, the faint thud of marching boots and the sound of soldiers' roll call could still be heard.
Pierro had been in the luxurious kitchen since early morning, his sleeves rolled up to reveal his prominent muscles and blue veins as he cut sandwiches. Capitano was sitting on the sofa. On the coffee table was a transparent glass flask with hot Liyue tea and a small cup containing a shimmering, similarly colored liquid.
The scholar emerged from the bedroom door, scratching his head as he asked, "Hey... where is this place? It's too quiet."
"Soundproofed. Drink your water," Pierro replied.
Zandik grabbed the cup of water and gulped it down. "Out there... are the soldiers eating breakfast?"
"They've been up for two hours already."
Capitano took a sip of Liyue tea and said, "While you're just tumbling out of bed now, and on his bed, no less."
"No one woke me up..."
"Where you sleep is up to me. A Doctor's opinion isn't needed," Pierro stated firmly.
"I was just about to ask..."
"Think quietly then."
"No, I'm serious. About the... male anatomy. I mean... since Pierro also has an anus then-"
Pierro put the knife down on the counter and shot a glance at the other two, his gaze as cold as well water. "Shut the hell up."
"Cough... cough... Sorry... I couldn't help it," Capitano choked on his tea, laughing as he coughed.
"You too. Shut your fucking mouth."
"Right... but I have to admit, the kid has a point. Maybe it's because The Jester 'poked the right spot' so many times... that he realized-"
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Pierro roared, his voice as heavy as a hammer strike.
"Well... I was just saying," Capitano shrugged.
Zandik, to everyone's surprise, spoke up. "I think... he has a point."
"You, too. Be quiet." Pierro continued cutting the sandwiches, the constant clanking sound echoing as he angrily pressed the knife down on the cutting board. Zandik glanced over and saw the firm grip Pierro had on the knife, and decided right then and there to say nothing else.
About fifteen minutes later, Pierro brought out a plate with two Katsu sandwiches and a large porcelain bowl filled with... raw salmon and salad. He arranged it perfectly, with the green of the vegetables and the pink of the fish looking vibrant and eye-catching.
"Eat all of this," Pierro said curtly, completely ignoring the scholar's disappointed look as he pushed the plate of sandwiches toward Capitano first.
Zandik scowled. "Vegetables... with raw fish?"
"Salmon salad. The best kind. Eat it all, and then you can have a sandwich."
"Why can't I just have the sandwich first...?"
"Because I said so."
Zandik sighed mournfully, then picked up his fork and poked at a lettuce leaf. He looked utterly dejected.
Capitano, meanwhile, was still relaxed on the sofa, holding a sandwich cut in half, its filling of ham and cheese ample. He chewed just enough to be able to talk. "Oh... this is incredibly delicious. It's been so long since I've had a decent sandwich like this."
Zandik glared at him. Of course he had to.
Not stopping there, Capitano pretended to smack his lips, deliberately speaking louder. "Lucky for me, I didn't have to eat salad first... And Jester is a great cook, not only delicious but also knows how to choose who to serve special meals to..."
Pierro glared at him with a look that could summon lightning, then ground out each word. "Do you want to fucking eat his salad portion too?"
Capitano raised both hands in mocking surrender. "No, no, let him eat. If I ate it for him, he'd probably cry."
The scholar picked up a leaf of lettuce with a slice of salmon using his fork. He took a bite, his ruby-red eyes and sky-blue eyelashes moving slightly. It wasn't long before Pierro noticed that the scholar's normally dejected face held a flicker of something unusual compared to earlier this morning.
"Nom..."
"Hm?" Pierro glanced at Zandik, noticing the unusual chewing sound.
Zandik quickly swallowed, shaking his head frantically. "No- it's just... I don't know if it's the sauce or the vegetables... but this is delicious."
Capitano nodded in agreement. "Oh, so now you're starting to understand why people have to eat salad first, boy."
Zandik shot him a look and replied, "I understand... and I also understand that someone is deliberately chewing their sandwich loudly just to annoy me."
"Well, I admit.., your salad is delicious. But it's still not as good as the sandwich I'm eating. If The Jester adopts anyone... they're set for life."
"If you don't shut up, I'll switch both of your breakfasts." Pierro growled once more, nearly losing his patience.
"Okay, okay... I'll shut up."
The entire room became as quiet as it had been before, with only the faint sound of a fork lightly touching the salmon salad bowl. A short while later, the scholar pushed the empty bowl toward Pierro as if reporting a completed task.
Seeing this, Pierro silently placed a plate with a halved sandwich in front of him, its thick filling of meat and cheese smelling wonderful. "For you."
"...You're acting like it's a blessing."
"It is truly a blessing," Pierro agreed, nodding.
Zandik had just picked up the sandwich when Capitano's hand shot out like lightning, snatching the slice of ham from the middle.
"Thanks, it's been a while since I've had such a good piece of ham," Capitano said, chewing contentedly.
"Hey!!"
"What? I left you the rest of the sandwich."
Pierro stood there, arms crossed, watching the scowling scholar and his subordinate Capitano chewing on the crispy, golden-fried ham. After a moment, he slowly spoke. "I'm starting to think... you don't know that vegetables can taste good because you can't cook. Or... because that blasted Sumeru place only sells deep-fried food."
The scholar scratched his cheek. "Well... it's true that there are a lot of fried food stalls near the Akademiya. But, I rarely eat like this because... I don't have enough ingredients and... uhm... kúkhnaya kníga (cookbooks)?"
"Kúkhonnaya kníga."
"Yeah... that," Zandik mumbled in reply, then took a bite of the rest of his sandwich, secretly planning how to hide it next time.
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The scholar was just about to slip away from the sofa, planning to sneak out and see what interesting things were on the military cruise, when he suddenly heard Capitano call out.
"Come here, Doctor" he beckoned.
"...For what?"
"To trim your toenails. It's winter, boots are fleece-lined; long nails hurt feet, not to mention they tear up socks easily."
Zandik turned around to see Capitano already seated in a plush, light-gray armchair, holding a small, shiny steel pair of nail clippers.
Knowing he had almost no right to resist, the scholar angrily placed his foot on Capitano's thigh. Capitano held his ankle, his large fingers gripping just enough so as not to hurt Zandik.
Zandik's feet had gradually become softer, smoother, and whiter than before because... he mostly just stayed around the palace, occasionally burying his head in the library or stealing Pierro's Command Token to get free full-service spa treatments in the southern part of the palace, instead of running around the Sumeru jungle for his research projects.
"It's cold," Zandik grumbled as the clippers touched his skin.
"Bear with it. If they're clipped this short, you'll be comfortable in boots all season."
The rhythmic snip, snip echoed. Occasionally, The Captain would gently push the nail with his thumb to check it.
"Clipping them this short... is ugly."
"You're a scholar; I doubt you're planning to enter a beautiful feet contest, are you?" Capitano replied succinctly, continuing on to the next nail. The scholar, bored by the feeling, began to lean back, propping himself up with his hands on the sofa.
Just then, Pierro walked out of the bedroom. He paused, seeing the unbelievable sight: his eyes flitted over Zandik’s soft, white feet resting on The Captain’s thigh. "Well... I never expected to see this in the morning."
Zandik was startled and reflexively pulled his foot back, but it was held more firmly. "It's not what you think..."
"Oh, I'm thinking simply. People only kneel before someone when they're... very reverent, or... very intimate."
Pierro walked slowly toward the table as he spoke. He picked up a cigar and continued, preparing to light it. "How very thoughtful. Are you going to polish them too, Captain? Or maybe paint a snowflake design on the nails to match the season?"
Zandik rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Alright, are you done clipping?"
"Almost," Capitano replied. He set the clippers aside, brushing off Zandik's feet as if he had just finished polishing a piece of jewelry. "And if you'd like, I'll invite you to watch from the beginning next time, Jester."
Zandik pulled his foot back the moment Capitano released it. The scholar quickly put on his light blue socks, and was about to head out when Pierro returned with several bags of new clothes.
Without a word, The Jester had Zandik sit down on the chair like a living mannequin, and began putting layers of clothes on him.
A large, wine-red wool scarf embroidered with the Fatui symbol was wrapped around his head, leaving only his handsome face, pale lips, and straight nose visible. Large, light-blue sunglasses covered half his face so The Doctor could "look at men without being noticed," and "wear sunglasses like a diva even in a submarine."
His ruffled-collar shirt was also light blue, embroidered with the Fatui symbol in gold thread at the collar, which was tucked under a velvet vest. Finally, Pierro put an oversized, moss-green coat on him, its hem nearly touching his knees. He even deliberately pinned a brooch shaped like a black crow with red eyes to the left side of his chest.
Clothes over clothes, a scarf, a huge coat, it looked like he was dressed for a walk in Snezhnaya, but with a fashionable twist.
Looking at the overall picture, Zandik appeared as if he had been pulled straight from a Gucci Fall/Winter runway: half wandering aristocrat, half insomniac scientist.
Pierro had definitely made Zandik look like both a young noble and a well-dressed patient who had escaped from the asylum.
Pierro tilted his head, his eyes narrowed as if he were evaluating a work of art. "Good. At least today you don't look like a scrap metal collector from a flea market."
Capitano had been sitting beside them, enjoying the full view of "Pierro the stylist" dressing Zandik according to his whims. He crossed his legs, sipping hot Liyue tea like a retired grandfather, and grinned. "Are you planning to take him to an auction or display him in a museum?"
"I... can't breathe," Zandik choked, his voice muffled by the layers of wool.
Pierro, in contrast, was perfectly calm. "Fashion isn't for the faint of heart, boy."
Pierro had dressed Zandik as if he were about to walk in a Gucci Cruise show, from the era of Alessandro Michele.
He looked like a male model who had just survived a blizzard at Milan Fashion Week.
Just then, Capitano received a message from a soldier that their unit had just seized a hoard of treasures from a group of illegal grave robbers.
He talked on the landline for a while, and then, for some unknown reason, the Fatui soldiers handed the treasure chest back to him for his use, but only after each soldier in the team had taken one item for themselves.
They delivered it right to Pierro's door, and he allowed Zandik to "handle" the pile of jewelry, treating it as both a reward and a test: to see how long the boy could behave after his recent "threesome sex" incident.
Zandik sprawled out on the sofa and casually pulled a sapphire necklace out of the box. He examined it for a moment, then tossed it into an empty bin nearby. Zandik continued by pulling out a gold ring, examining it as if he were picking out meat or fish at the market.
"He's really being a good boy," Capitano commented.
"If he weren't, you wouldn't see him picking through it now. He'd be secretly stuffing the entire box into his suitcase," Pierro said, putting on a ring with three small, sparkling diamonds.
Zandik, who had just pulled out a tiara and was trying it on, immediately retorted, "I can hear you. And I have self-respect."
"You're letting him choose five items, right Jester?"
"I'm not limiting the number."
Zandik became wide awake, jumping up as if he'd been electrocuted. "What?"
❁ ≖≖✿❁ ≖≖ ❁
Capitano carried the scholar down the stairs leading to the Entertainment Area. The scholar winced slightly, as every movement caused his bruised muscles to ache. But he didn't forget to take the opportunity to look around this massive and well-equipped military vessel.
It was now daytime, and the purple lights on the ceiling had mostly been turned off, giving way to natural light. Despite this, the temperature was still nearly sub-zero, meaning it hadn't changed much from the night.
A few minutes later, they arrived at the Entertainment Area after descending three floors. It was a comfortable, pleasant place with a luxurious feel, yet it still carried a strong scent of "military discipline."
There was a stage and a large screen in front, which was showing a mixed program of news, interviews, and fashion advertisements.
Laughter from a comedy segment mixed with the low whispers of a few sailors. The Fatui soldiers were seated on the surrounding wooden benches, most of them gathered near the food and drink counter and the small pool. This meant that the majority of them were not close to the large screen.
The seating here wasn't all wooden or benches. The only circular rows of seats around the screen were cushions shaped like a halved avocado, with the pit removed and used as a headrest pillow.
Capitano placed the scholar down on an avocado cushion. His movement was neither fast nor slow; it was like placing a fragile item he didn't want to show he was worried about. Zandik leaned back slightly and breathed a soft sigh. "Did you bring me down here to watch TV... or to be a display for a war trophy?"
"Could be both," The. Captain replied and sat down next to Zandik.
A news segment about Snezhnaya began to play: images of people in thick fur coats, with snowflakes blurring the camera lens.
Capitano just sat there, his large silhouette blocking part of the screen's light, both protecting and reminding the scholar that he couldn't just get up and leave freely.
After the Snezhnaya news segment ended, the screen began broadcasting the Mondstadt Fashion Week show.
A program host appeared and spoke in a clear, loud voice. "Ladies and gentlemen, this year's Mondstadt Fashion Week begins with a very Mondstadtian tradition: we placed a ballot box right in front of the statue of the Anemo Archon at the Great Cathedral."
The second host continued their colleague's words. "On it is a single question for the Archon: 'What style should we go for this year?' Anyone who wishes can write their suggestion and put it in the box."
The other host smiled. "And the next morning, when everyone was still fast asleep, a sudden gust of wind blew the pile of ballots away... only to lift a single one and place it neatly on the organ. That ballot had two words on it... 'Freedom.' So, there was no more debate. This year's theme was officially decided by the Anemo Archon."
The scene on the screen switched to a catwalk, and the sparkling stage lights reflected on Zandik and Capitano's faces.
"Leave it to Mondstadt... everything can look a little... messy and still make perfect sense," the scholar mumbled.
"As long as their people are happy."
"It's just for fun, no need for three-layered puffy dresses..."
A Mondstadt model wearing a white fur cape walked onto the runway under soft yellow lights. The female commentator's voice echoed: "A style combining tradition and modernity, inspired by the snowy mountain peaks..."
"Right... it looks warm, I guess. But no one would actually wear that on the street."
"Not everything is created to be worn on the street," The Captain calmly replied.
They watched the show like that for a while. All around them, the clinking of knives and forks from the soldiers' meal mingled with their low conversations, and the sound from the Mondstadt Fashion Week broadcast on the screen partially drowned out the scattered chatter.
The scent of hot coffee and delicious food blended with the cold metallic smell of the ship. The scholar sniffed, then looked around, his eyes lighting up when he saw the menu board hanging high up.
"I want a cheeseburger... with a large Fonta," Zandik mumbled.
Capitano paused for a moment. Then he turned, placing his muscular arm near Zandik's head and leaning his entire upper body so low it looked as if he was about to lie on top of him. "If you cause any trouble or refuse to eat your vegetables again... I will let them use you as a toy. Right here."
Suddenly, the clinking of knives and forks and the chatter around them stopped. A few Fatui soldiers, particularly the men nearby, looked up. They didn't even try to hide their intentions. Their eyes swept over Zandik as if measuring him. Their eyes narrowed slightly, and a faint smirk formed at the corners of their mouths. One of them even casually licked his lips.
The air grew thick and heavy, sending a chill down Zandik's spine as if someone had just poured ice water on him.
The scholar immediately fell silent. He pursed his lips, no longer looking at the menu, and leaned closer to Capitano, almost seeking refuge under the heavy coat. Finally, he hesitated. "Could I... have some orange juice?"
Capitano didn't move or change his posture, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly under his mask, as if in a faint, dry smile. "Drink all of it. Don't leave a single drop."
Zandik nodded, his hand pulling the corner of Capitano's coat to shield his body from the gaze of the other soldiers. The large screen continued to broadcast the scene of Mondstadt models walking the runway under a shower of colorful fireworks, but he was no longer in the mood to watch.
At that moment, Zandik didn't notice that Capitano had pressed a small button embedded in the chair. A touch screen with a drink menu appeared, and he went straight for the orange juice, selecting "no sugar, no ice."
‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾
The scholar hugged the cup of orange juice, taking small sips while still curled up on the soft avocado-shaped cushion. He watched the fashion show with half-closed eyes. The light from the large screen reflected on his pale skin, making every feature of his face stand out. Occasionally, a few soldiers at other tables would glance over longer than normal - the kind of look that seemed to be "appraising" a commodity.
"I hope... this helps with hormonal acne," Zandik said unexpectedly after a long silence.
"You're just now getting hormonal acne? Where? Besides on your face?"
Zandik hesitated slightly, but then he used his hand to push back his thick bangs, revealing a patch of his forehead with several red, clearly inflamed pimples. He sighed and continued, "Up here... and a little on my back..."
Capitano leaned in, then used his finger to push aside the scholar's velvet-smooth, sky-blue hair. He looked for a moment, then frowned. "It's definitely hormonal. Your skin is also a bit oilier than normal. This stage... means your body hasn't finished puberty yet. Your hormones are self-destructing, and it'll get worse if you keep eating junk food."
Zandik blinked and opened his mouth, but in the end, he didn't argue. Seeing this, Capitano decided to continue.
"When we return to Snezhnaya, I'll have the physician arrange a treatment for you. For now, you will only eat what I give you. If not..."
He glanced at the soldiers sitting nearby who were secretly watching. "...I'll give you a private 'exercise session,' to get your hormones working properly. Understood?"
Zandik trembled and nodded his head frantically, scooting closer to Capitano and taking another gulp of orange juice without daring to look up.
Capitano didn't turn his head, but he clearly noticed. He quietly moved closer, placing his large, muscular arm heavily on Zandik's shoulder. The motion was simple, but it was a clear message to the soldiers: 'This kid belongs to the Harbinger. Don't get any ideas.'
"Isn't there a pharmacy here?" Zandik whispered.
"There is. But you won't be going by yourself. I'll get what you need... and check how you use it. Just in case you take it haphazardly and then complain about more acne."
Although the scholar puffed out his cheeks, intending to object, he noticed the hand on his shoulder tighten and decided to stay silent, watching the next program on the screen. The screen had just switched shows, and Zandik saw two speakers wearing kimonos on it.
"Dear Ladies and Gentlemen, today we embark on a special journey: The Flow of Time in Inazuma. This is not merely a seminar, but a door opening to a thousand years of memories."
"For months, groups of scholars, warriors, and artisans have traveled across the islands of the Electro Nation, piecing together fragments of history. From the ruins of battlefields and torn scrolls to folk tales passed down through generations..."
"And today, all of it will be presented to... a living witness who has seen it all: Raiden Shogun - our deity, who has lived for over a thousand years. As you know... she will listen, correct every detail, and if we are lucky, she might tell us a story no one has ever heard before."
"So, please, maintain silence, so the thunder of history may resound."
"Sounds more like a trial than a storytelling session..." Zandik said.
"History is like that. Some remember, some forget. The problem is... who gets to decide what gets told."
Zandik curled his lip. "And today, that power rests in the hands of a single person."
Not long after, the scholar grew bored of the program. He lay on his side, then on his back, but still couldn't get comfortable. Just then, he noticed a small plastic bag with a cucumber printed on it, lying in the wooden cabinet next to the cushion. He reached out and picked up the bag. It was a local sheet mask package that hadn't expired yet.
The scholar tore open the mask package, put it on his face, and leaned back on the avocado cushion. Noticing the strange looks from around the room, he complained in an irritated voice, "What are they looking at? Haven't they ever seen someone put on a face mask before?"
"Don't mind them. Everyone here knows you're mine."
"That sounds no different from putting a 'fragile' sticker on me."
"Then they'll be even more careful not to touch you."
Zandik continued to sprawl in the avocado cushion. "Where's Tyrant Pierro?"
"He's probably in the control room. Commanding the voyage. No time to watch a fashion show with you."
"What a shame. If I were the Tsaritsa, I would have ordered him to wear a pink lace cape." Zandik's eyes sparkled at the thought.
Capitano let out a faint chuckle, then suddenly remembered something and turned to the scholar to ask, "Have you been fully vaccinated?"
"Vaccines? In Sumeru, I only got a few... the ones the hospital gave away for free, or were so cheap no one even bothered to sell them. As for the more luxurious, special ones... the ones related to sexual health... I haven't been so fortunate as to get those."
Capitano leaned back on the avocado cushion, holding Zandik's wrist as if checking his pulse, gently pressing his thumb and rubbing the palm of the scholar's hand. "In the military, no one is allowed to skip vaccinations. You have to be healthy to fight. Do you think you're an exception?"
Zandik let Capitano rub his hand, tilting his head back as if to look up at him. "Well... I'm not your soldier. But if you're asking, is there a mini-pharmacy on this cruise? Or do you all just drink and sing the national anthem?"
"Yes. Medications, vaccines, medical equipment,.. everything is in stock. Military standard. You will be fully vaccinated," he answered definitively.
"Oh, in that case... what kind of vaccines do they have?"
Capitano still held Zandik's hand in his, slowly rubbing it as he replied, "We have everything. The common ones are for the flu, measles, mumps, and chickenpox. But on a military airship, we also have more advanced types: an extended-range pneumonia vaccine that protects against multiple strains at once. It costs five times more than the basic version. And, of course, its effectiveness is many times higher."
"You sound like a medicine commercial... all that's missing is the line, 'take one pill, and it's effective all day long'~"
"I'm not advertising. I'm warning you," he said, squeezing the back of Zandik's soft hand tightly.
"Well... 'warning' sounds more sophisticated. But in the end, it's still just making people fork over money for a pill bottle, Captain."
They didn't even notice the Fatui soldiers in the rows behind them, whose eyes were still glued to the Inazuma show on the big screen, but whose ears were completely perked up.
Those soldiers were used to the sight of Capitano being serious as a block of steel, with a warm, steady, and unwavering voice every time he held a microphone to make an announcement in the recording studio.
And yet, here in the Entertainment Area, that very commander was... sitting on a cushion shaped like a fresh piece of fruit - an avocado cushion, and is quietly rubbing the hand of a random boy who had a sheet mask on.
A boy whose clothes looked exactly like they had come straight from a Michele-era Gucci Show, complete with lace, frills, a high collar, and silver rings on his hand that gleamed under the light of the military cruise's cabin.
A soldier squeezed his half-empty beer mug, grinding his teeth bitterly. "What the hell... he's never even given us a decent look."
Another soldier snorted, grinding out each word. "Capitano's hands... touching someone? During training, if we passed out, all we got was 'get up.' But that kid... gets a hand massage to keep warm?!"
A bigger guy, his face flushed red, whispered to his colleague as if he were cursing. "Look, Capitano's fingers are even stroking him gently... Damn it, just like a father stroking his favorite child's hand. And this 'favorite child' looks like a runway model?!"
Someone couldn't stand it, swallowing hard, his eyes still fixed on Zandik, who was slightly tilting his head and smiling wryly. "Are we going to have to trade our uniforms for flashy clothes just to get Capitano to touch our hands?!"
"What kind of getup is that, like he just walked off a runway. And it's weird, him lying next to Capitano like that..."
"What's so weird about it? Don't you see the Harbinger himself massaging him like that?"
"I'm just saying... do you think... he values that kid more than us?"
"Just shut up. You'll get us all killed talking like that."
"But seriously... it's so infuriating to watch this."