The Knave - Blog Posts
My small Harbinger series!
father 🧎 (based on that one prompt that was trending on twt a while ago...)
Arlecchino tattoo comcept
Arlecchino is my favorite harbinger and her wings, oml chef's kiss
Guess who got Arlechino in 20 pulls?
Now that I got her early, I’m planning on trying to get Baizhu as well. Also for all free to play players who got Arlechino and don’t want to pull for her weapon, use the forgeable prototype polearm on her. It is a good F2P four star polearm that looks really good on her with the scythe effect on it!
I played the Arlecchino story quest- it's yappin time! Or time for a kinda long post.
I'll fix the spelling eventually
Spoilers ahead
More analysis! Except we're going through sequentially because that's how I remember it!
1. Lyney is the big brother to everyone in the house
The way he could talk everyone so easily was cute to see. He seems so unbothered by everyone's little quirks. Like- taking to those kids and dropping the most diabolical lore? Kinda scary I'm not gonna lie. Even if unintentionally, a lot of people look up to him. Although, there is the question of how much of his interactions are masking because he does have a silver tongue. Either way, he's definitely the ring leader.
2. Lyney is the cooking sibling
This one isn't actually all that important but I think it's cute. His big brother energy is strong.
3. Lyney hates having secrets kept from him
I think that this one is kinda ironic, but then again, it could be because he keeps secrets he knows how it feels. Also- that line about Freminet lying to him was disrespectful. My jaw hit the floor when he went "You're not like me- your lying skills still need some work." Even if it's true just damn. It's very clear though that the fact Fremi was hiding something hurt him. It seems that at moments like this his passion can be the downfall as we witness the world's most awkward argument. Which resulted in Fremi crying and I must wonder how often this happens.
4. He has the entire roster memorized.
I for one, am still not over this fact. When you ask about Clervie's name he's instantly like: Nope! Not in the roster. It's the same with Perrie. Perhaps this is just me, but that seems like a lot of people to just know of the top of your head.
5. Lynette is almost as good at stealth as Arlecchino.
When they do the first bump and Lynette scares the soul out of everyone involved made me realize something. Maybe it's a combination of her cat features and personality, but she's quiet. The way she made her entrance was so reminiscent of Arlecchino earlier and she was definitely trained in it by her. It's absolutely adorable how much she emulate her "Father."
6. Lyney's voice rises when he breaks composure.
This is possibly just because of the amazing acting of his English VA but I'd like to think it's true. So you can able this one more of a headcanon with evidence. It happens a few times, mostly towards the end but this it the first time it happens. He was so surprised by Lynette that he just completely loses his composure for a second and practically squeaks for a second. He then obviously fixes it but it's a nice moment. Later, he's just desperate but we'll get to that.
7. A lot of the stories we hear about Arlecchino are misconceptions.
This woman is so freaking scary. I just have to say it, I could feel the tension through the screen as we talked. Thank god for child because I was stressed. What we do learn from this besides the fact she's not one for conversation is that they're a lot of half truths about her. This woman would let you call her by the wrong name of it benefits her so everyone saying she's a backstabber and crazy is far from the full story. Childe got his information from the Rooster which uh- was phrased in a weird way. However, she saw no reason to really correct it, so she didn't. Scaramouche however, I'm starting to wonder if he's speaking from personal experience. He's clearly witnessed something and now I wanna know what.
8. Lyney's lying skills were definitely improved by Arlecchino.
Miss Girly is the queen of misinformation and it's clear Lyney learned from him. Like I'm talking to this woman and she's so manipulative I'm doubting myself- AND I WENT IN KNOWING THE STORY! The way she side steps and misdirects is so reminiscent of Lyney that I got deja vu. The main difference is Arlecchino is so much colder so she doesn't break easily. Lyney is an absolute softy and can break way easier.
9. Arlecchino is not fond of the other harbingers.
This is pretty clear in her voice lines and is also obvious because of her personality. However, this is something about watching her shit talk her coworkers in front of me that I'm just living for. Especially with the new plan Project Stuzha? Girly pop isn't having that shit. If she pulls up, I wanna witness this.
10. Lynette is Lyney's voice of reason.
I feel like I've said this before but it deserves to be said again because she's the second baddest bitch alive. Arlecchino is the first.
11. Lyney's angry eyes are unnerving to me.
Maybe this is just me but then is eyes narrow it makes me wanna back away. I don't know if it's because of the way he presents himself but it just gives a certain vibe. I find that vibe slightly terrifying.
12. The reason Lyney is the next king and his passion.
Now, this was a question I had ever since Lyney came out. Seeing him in the Archon Quest had me wondering why he was the next director. Then during the last part of this quest I realized something. It was like a moment of recognition. I think when he stood up to defend everyone. The way he was so determined was really touching. It's also something I already knew. In the Fortress when he charged at Wriothesley was a moment of desperation. Then here, he stands to duel the freaking Knave. He obviously knew the was no way he could win but he wasn't gonna give up with his family on the line. His passion and conviction for his family know no bounds, after all, it's how he got his vision in the first place. Every part of his character and lore just screams family man. The way he's so dedicated to the big brother role and protection those close fits perfectly for what the Knave hopes the House becomes. However, it's this same damn passion that has him disregarding his health and jumping in front of Lynette with no way to parry and his squishy ass body.
The Portrait of Innocence
The cold halls of the House of the Hearth were filled with whispers—dangerous secrets and murmurs that seemed to drift like smoke, lingering in the air long after the words had faded. It was a place of power and influence, ruled by the most cunning of the Fatui, each member carefully selected for their skill and ruthlessness. And at the center of it all was Arlecchino, the Knave.
Her reputation preceded her, a woman of cold beauty and even colder ambition. She commanded respect, fear, and devotion in equal measure. The children of the House, raised under her watchful eye, adored her as their matron, but they knew better than to cross her. Her mask of elegance and charm concealed something far more dangerous beneath, a predator lurking behind every polite smile and graceful gesture.
You had come to the House under strange circumstances—a visitor, an outsider with no ties to the Fatui. Your connection to her world was tenuous at best, and yet, you found yourself drawn into it, into her orbit. Arlecchino had taken a peculiar interest in you from the moment you met, her sharp eyes assessing, her gaze lingering on you with a calculated intensity that left you unsettled. And though you should have feared her, there was something undeniably magnetic about her presence, something that pulled you closer despite the warnings that echoed in the back of your mind.
"You are different from the others," Arlecchino had said, her voice soft yet commanding. "You don't belong here, and yet... I can see something in you. Something untouched."
Her words had left you confused and intrigued, a strange mixture of emotions that you couldn’t quite place. There was something in the way she spoke to you, something in her eyes when she looked at you, that made you feel both exposed and desired. And as the days passed, you found yourself seeking her out more and more, captivated by her presence, despite the danger that seemed to radiate from her like a warning.
It was during one of these encounters that she led you to a small, dimly lit room deep within the House. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and in the center of the room stood an ornate, gilded mirror—a masterpiece of craftsmanship, its frame adorned with intricate carvings of serpents and roses. The surface of the mirror gleamed in the candlelight, reflecting the room with eerie clarity.
Arlecchino stood beside you, her hand resting lightly on your arm as she gestured toward the mirror. "Look," she said, her voice a low whisper. "Tell me what you see."
You hesitated, glancing at her before stepping closer to the mirror. For a moment, you saw nothing out of the ordinary—just your own reflection staring back at you. But then, as you looked deeper, something shifted. Your reflection began to change, subtly at first, then more noticeably. The face that stared back at you was no longer quite your own; it was a version of yourself—perfect, flawless, untouched by time or imperfection. It was the idealized image of who you could be, who you wanted to be.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Arlecchino's voice was like silk, smooth and intoxicating. "This mirror shows you not just your reflection, but the possibility of what you could become. Untouched by the world, untainted by age or hardship. Eternal beauty... eternal youth."
Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at the reflection, unable to tear your eyes away. It was mesmerizing, this vision of yourself—a version of you that was more than just human, more than just mortal. It was perfection, in every sense of the word.
But something about it felt wrong. You could feel it, deep in your gut—a gnawing sense of unease that tugged at the edges of your mind.
"What is this?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.
Arlecchino’s lips curved into a smile, but it was a smile that did not reach her eyes. "It is a gift," she said softly, stepping closer to you, her presence almost overwhelming. "A chance to escape the decay of time. To become more than you are, more than anyone else. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?"
Her words were like a poison, seeping into your thoughts, twisting your desires. You had never been one for vanity, never craved the kind of beauty that others sought so desperately. And yet, standing here in front of the mirror, you couldn’t help but feel the temptation tugging at you.
"What’s the cost?" you asked, your voice barely audible, though you already knew the answer.
Arlecchino’s smile widened, her fingers brushing lightly against your skin. "The cost is nothing... and everything," she said. "You won’t age, you won’t change. But your true self—the one that lives beneath the surface—will remain hidden, locked away in the mirror. Every sin, every vice, every cruel thought will manifest there, leaving you untouched. The reflection will bear the weight of it all."
The idea was both seductive and terrifying. Eternal youth, eternal beauty, the chance to live without consequence, without fear of time’s cruel hand. But at what cost?
You looked at her, searching for some sign of deception, but all you saw was her cool, calculating gaze. She was offering you something that most people would kill for, and yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something darker at play, something far more dangerous than she was letting on.
"What happens to the reflection?" you asked, your voice tight with unease.
Arlecchino’s eyes glinted with amusement, as if she had been waiting for you to ask that question. "The reflection will take on all the burdens of your soul," she said. "Every act of cruelty, every moment of weakness, will be etched into it. But you won’t have to look at it. You can live freely, without the weight of guilt or regret."
For a long moment, you were silent, your mind racing with the implications of what she was offering. Could you really live like that? Could you accept eternal youth and beauty at the cost of your soul?
"I don’t want to lose myself," you said quietly, turning away from the mirror to face her.
Arlecchino’s smile faded, her expression turning cold and unreadable. "You wouldn’t be losing yourself," she said, her voice sharp. "You would be elevating yourself. Becoming something more."
"But what would I become?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.
She stepped closer to you, her hand brushing against your cheek. "You would become whatever you want to be," she whispered, her voice like a siren’s call. "Free from the chains of morality, free to live as you please, without consequence."
Her words hung in the air, thick with temptation. And for a moment, you considered it—considered what it would be like to live without fear, without pain, without the constant weight of conscience. It was a tantalizing thought, one that tugged at the darkest corners of your mind.
But deep down, you knew that it wasn’t freedom she was offering. It was enslavement—to her, to the mirror, to the reflection that would slowly consume everything you were.
"I can’t," you said, stepping back from her, your voice trembling with resolve. "I won’t."
For a moment, Arlecchino’s expression remained unchanged, her eyes cold and calculating. But then, slowly, her lips curved into a smile—a smile that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Very well," she said softly, though there was a dangerous edge to her voice. "But remember this: the world is not kind to those who reject its gifts. And beauty... beauty is the most dangerous gift of all."
With those words, she turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the room with the mirror. The reflection still lingered in the glass, watching you with eyes that were no longer your own.
And as you gazed into it, you realized that the temptation would never truly leave you. It would haunt you, just as Arlecchino would, a shadow lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for the moment when you would finally give in.
The moon hung low over the frozen landscape of Snezhnaya, casting a pale glow on the snow-covered ground. La Signora stood at the edge of a cliff, her crimson cloak billowing in the icy wind. The cold never bothered her; it was a part of her, just as much as the flames that burned within her heart.
She heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching and turned to see Arlecchino, the enigmatic Harbinger known as “The Knave,” making her way towards her. Arlecchino’s eyes, sharp and calculating, met La Signora’s with a mixture of curiosity and something deeper, something unspoken.
“You’re out here again,” Arlecchino said, her voice a low murmur that seemed to blend with the wind. “What are you thinking about?”
La Signora turned her gaze back to the horizon, where the first light of dawn was beginning to break. “The past,” she replied, her voice tinged with a sadness that she rarely allowed herself to show. “And the future.”
Arlecchino stepped closer, her presence a comforting warmth against the chill. “The past is a heavy burden,” she said softly. “But it doesn’t have to define us.”
La Signora glanced at her, a small smile playing on her lips. “You speak as if you know something about letting go.”
Arlecchino shrugged, a rare hint of vulnerability in her eyes. “We all have our ghosts,” she said. “But we also have each other.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the only sound the whisper of the wind and the distant call of a lone bird. La Signora felt a strange sense of peace, a feeling she hadn’t known in a long time. She reached out, her gloved hand brushing against Arlecchino’s.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For being here.”
Arlecchino’s fingers intertwined with hers, a silent promise of support and understanding. “Always,” she replied.
As the sun began to rise, casting a golden light over the frozen landscape, La Signora and Arlecchino stood together, their hearts beating in unison. At that moment, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together.
The cold winds of Snezhnaya howled outside the Zapolyarny Palace, but inside, the atmosphere was even more frigid. Rosalyne, known to the world as La Signora, stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon. She had received her orders: she was to go to Inazuma and confront the Raiden Shogun.
Arlecchino, the Knave, watched her from the shadows, her heart heavy with dread. She knew what this mission entailed, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing Rosalyne. Their relationship, forged in the fires of ambition and the chill of understanding, had become her anchor in the storm of their lives.
“Rosalyne,” Arlecchino called softly, stepping into the light.
Rosalyne turned, her eyes cold and distant. “Arlecchino. What is it?”
Arlecchino took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Don’t go to Inazuma.”
Rosalyne’s expression hardened. “You know I have no choice. The Tsaritsa’s orders are absolute.”
“But you don’t have to follow them,” Arlecchino insisted, her voice trembling. “You don’t have to throw your life away for a mission that could be your end.”
Rosalyne’s eyes flashed with anger. “You think I fear death? I have faced it countless times. This is my duty.”
“It’s not just about duty,” Arlecchino pleaded, stepping closer. “It’s about us. About what we have. I can’t lose you, Rosalyne. Not like this.”
For a moment, Rosalyne’s icy facade cracked, and a flicker of pain crossed her face. “Arlecchino, you know what we are. We are Harbingers. Our lives are not our own.”
“But they could be,” Arlecchino whispered, reaching out to take Rosalyne’s hand. “We could find a way. Together.”
Rosalyne looked down at their intertwined fingers, her resolve wavering. “And what would you have me do? Defy the Tsaritsa? Abandon my duty?”
“Yes,” Arlecchino said fiercely. “If it means saving you, then yes. We can leave, disappear. Start a new life somewhere far from here.”
Tears welled up in Rosalyne’s eyes, and she shook her head. “You don’t understand. This is who I am. This is all I know.”
“And I know that I love you,” Arlecchino said, her voice breaking. “I can’t stand the thought of losing you. Please, Rosalyne. Stay with me.”
Rosalyne closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I wish it were that simple,” she whispered. “But I can’t. I have to go.”
Arlecchino’s heart shattered at those words, but she refused to give up. “Then let me come with you. Let me stand by your side.”
Rosalyne opened her eyes, her gaze filled with sorrow. “No. This is something I must do alone.”
Arlecchino’s grip tightened on Rosalyne’s hand, desperation in her eyes. “Please, Rosalyne. Don’t do this.”
Rosalyne gently pulled her hand away, her expression resolute. “Goodbye, Arlecchino.”
As Rosalyne turned and walked away, Arlecchino fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. The weight of her love and the agony of her loss crushed her, leaving her feeling more alone than ever.
In the end, Rosalyne’s duty to the Tsaritsa took her to Inazuma, and Arlecchino was left behind, her heart forever scarred by the choice that had torn them apart.
The days following Rosalyne’s departure were a blur for Arlecchino. The once vibrant halls of the Zapolyarny Palace felt empty and cold without her presence. Arlecchino threw herself into her work, trying to drown out the pain of her loss, but nothing could fill the void left by Rosalyne.
One evening, as Arlecchino sat alone in her quarters, a knock on the door broke the silence. She opened it to find a messenger, a grim expression on his face.
“Harbinger Arlecchino, I bring news from Inazuma,” he said, handing her a sealed letter.
With trembling hands, Arlecchino took the letter and dismissed the messenger. She broke the seal and began to read, her heart pounding in her chest. The letter was from a fellow Harbinger, detailing the events that had transpired in Inazuma.
Rosalyne had confronted the Raiden Shogun, and the battle had been fierce. Despite her immense power, Rosalyne had been defeated. The letter spoke of her bravery, her unwavering resolve, and her final moments.
Arlecchino’s vision blurred with tears as she read the last lines. Rosalyne had fought until the very end, her love for Arlecchino giving her the strength to face her fate. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough.
The letter slipped from Arlecchino’s fingers, and she sank to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. The pain of losing Rosalyne was unbearable, a wound that would never heal. She had tried to save her, but in the end, duty had taken Rosalyne away.
Days turned into weeks, and Arlecchino struggled to find a reason to go on. The world felt empty without Rosalyne, and the weight of her grief threatened to crush her. But she knew she couldn’t give up. Rosalyne had fought for her, had believed in her, and she couldn’t let that be in vain.
With a heavy heart, Arlecchino rose from the ashes of her despair. She vowed to honor Rosalyne’s memory, to carry on her legacy. She would become stronger, not just for herself, but for the woman she had loved and lost.
As the seasons changed, Arlecchino found a new purpose. She became a beacon of strength and resilience, her determination unyielding. And though the pain of losing Rosalyne never truly faded, it became a part of her, a reminder of the love they had shared and the sacrifices they had made.
In the end, Arlecchino knew that Rosalyne’s spirit lived on within her. And as long as she carried that love in her heart, she would never be alone.
Dance of Shadows and Ice
In the heart of Snezhnaya, where the cold winds howled and the snow fell endlessly, the Fatui Harbingers gathered for a rare moment of respite. Among them, La Signora and Arlecchino stood out, their contrasting personalities creating a unique dynamic.
La Signora, with her icy demeanor and regal presence, was a force to be reckoned with. Arlecchino, known as the Knave, was equally formidable, her cunning and unpredictability making her a dangerous ally and an even more dangerous foe.
One evening, as the Harbingers gathered in the grand hall of the Zapolyarny Palace, La Signora found herself drawn to the shadows where Arlecchino lingered. The Knave’s eyes glinted with mischief as she noticed La Signora’s approach.
“To what do I owe the pleasure, Signora?” Arlecchino asked, her voice smooth and teasing.
La Signora’s gaze was steady, her expression unreadable. “I wanted to speak with you, Arlecchino. Away from the others.”
Arlecchino raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what could the mighty La Signora possibly want with little old me?”
La Signora stepped closer, her voice lowering. “I see through your games, Arlecchino. But I also see something more. A potential for greatness that you hide behind your mask of deceit.”
Arlecchino’s smile widened, a hint of genuine curiosity in her eyes. “You flatter me, Signora. But what makes you think I would be interested in anything beyond my own amusement?”
“Because I believe there’s more to you than you let on,” La Signora replied. “Just as there’s more to me than the Harbinger of Ice.”
For a moment, Arlecchino was silent, her gaze searching La Signora’s face. Then, she laughed softly. “You are a fascinating woman, Signora. Very well, let’s see where this conversation leads.”
As the night wore on, the two Harbingers spoke of power and ambition, of the burdens they carried and the secrets they kept. La Signora found herself drawn to Arlecchino’s sharp wit and hidden depths, while Arlecchino was intrigued by the vulnerability beneath La Signora’s icy exterior.
In the days that followed, their interactions became more frequent. They trained together, their battles a dance of shadows and ice, each pushing the other to new heights. They shared moments of quiet reflection, finding solace in each other’s company.
One evening, as they stood on a balcony overlooking the frozen landscape, Arlecchino turned to La Signora with a rare, genuine smile. “You know, Signora, I never thought I’d find someone who could match me in both strength and cunning.”
La Signora’s gaze softened, a small smile playing on her lips. “And I never thought I’d find someone who could see beyond my icy facade.”
Arlecchino reached out, her hand gently brushing La Signora’s. “Perhaps we are more alike than we realized.”
“Perhaps,” La Signora agreed, intertwining her fingers with Arlecchino’s. “And perhaps, together, we can achieve even greater things.”
As the stars twinkled above, the two Harbingers stood side by side, their bond growing stronger with each passing day. In a world filled with danger and intrigue, they had found something rare and precious—a connection that transcended their roles and titles, a partnership forged in the fires of ambition and the chill of understanding.