Mona Megistus does not read her fortune on her birthday.
She never does, hasn't since she was young. It isn't an easy thing, either—Mona lives her life by what she reads in the stars, so going even a few hours without consulting the spread in the sky leaves her skin itching and nerves abuzz. She'll fidget, tapping a foot, drumming her fingers against whatever surface they meet.
Bad luck, said Paimon when Mona explained exactly why. Sounds like your birthdays are always full of bad luck.
Mona doesn't believe in luck, be it bad or good, but she cannot deny that her birthdays are unusually… ill-fated. Not terribly so, but enough to be a minor inconvenience. It's easier to ignore fate when you actively don't look at it.
And so, it is her birthday, another year said and done. Mona sits at Wanmin Restaurant, courtesy of the Traveler's suggestion, cheek pressed to the wooden table pathetically. Her stomach growls and she sighs, rubbing at it as she imagines how tasty the food must be here.
Smells divine, at least. Mona can dream.
She is surprised when a plate is dropped before her, clanking against the table. Mona jerks upright, blinking. Tilts her head to the side as her vision focuses.
"Alrighty then, this is for you!" Xiangling flourishes a hand as she shows off the spread.
Mona has no idea what's on the plate, but it looks utterly delicious, brimming with juices and oil and spices. "I… that is to say, what do you mean for me?"
Xiangling wiggles a hand. "I mean that it's for you. I cooked this for you, and now I'm serving it up for you." Her tone drips with mild sarcasm, as though it should be obvious. Maybe it should be. Xiangling doesn't seem to be the type to not be blunt.
Mona does not take favors from strangers, but she is not above accepting food. However— "I am inclined to be wary when it's coming from an unknown hand," she says, turning her nose into the air just slightly. Especially on such an inauspicious day.
"It's a birthday meal, catered precisely for you!" Mona blinks, her expression crinkling, and Xiangling speaks again. "I heard it from the Traveler, so you can't escape this one."
"I've lived a birthday or two," starts Mona, "and they never quite bode well."
"Nonsense," says Xiangling with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Besides, I'm not a stranger."
"We've never met." At least not properly. They've shared nothing more than a passing hello and goodbye at the behest of the Traveler.
"Do you think it's poisoned, or something?"
Considering the stories that Mona has heard, it might be. "I am aware of your taste for exotic ingredients," she replies diplomatically.
Xiangling huffs, her bangs puffing up with her breath. "Well, take it or leave it. I only wanted to give you a gift."
To her credit, Mona feels bad. She sighs softly, reaching out to press her fingers to Xiangling's arm right before she turns away. "Apologies, I didn't mean to offend. It is just that you don't quite understand. One too many bad times, and—"
"Oh, just eat the damn food." Childe plops into the chair next to her, leaning back far enough to kick his boots onto the table.
Mona's gaze narrows. Oh, she thinks. This one. She's worked with him before on commissions, and she's felt the Abyssal taint that drips off of him in droves. Mona takes her chair and scoots away several feet, not bothering to hide it.
Childe frowns. "Rude," he says.
"What's rude is your boots on the table. Manners!" Xiangling smacks his shoulder, and Childe drops his foot to the ground immediately.
"Either way, if she won't eat it, I will—"
As if on cue, Mona's stomach gurgles loud enough to stop his words. She hides her face behind her hand. "Gods," she murmurs. Embarrassing, she thinks. So what if it's been a bit since she's last eaten?
Xiangling gives her a sympathetic pat on the back. "I've also heard that you have a tendency to starve yourself—"
"Is it starving if it's 'cause she's poor?"
Mona pinches the bridge of her nose. Is there anything that the others don't seem to already know? Or has the Traveler shared an alarming amount of her personal information? "I don't appreciate your distasteful representation of my being," she eventually says.
"If I paid for it would you eat it?"
Mona is caught off guard. She looks at Childe with a shrewd gaze. "And what would you want in return? A reading? I've already told you that fate wants nothing to do with you." She tried to read him once. Didn't go so well. All she saw was dark, swirling doom about his being, his future grim and uncertain.
"It'd be a gift," says Childe, "because it's your birthday." She is still hesitant, watching him long enough to make him squirm. "Honestly!" he finishes, hands held in the air.
"He pays for the meals of others all the time," says Xiangling matter-of-factly. "Mr. Zhongli likely would've died of starvation a year ago if Childe hadn't stepped in."
"I just…" Mona is unused to this sort of kindness. "It's always give and take with others, you know. I apologize for my reticence."
"I get it," says Childe. "When you're used to being on your own it's hard to let others take care of you. No one is saying you have to keep it up, just let us treat you today."
Xiangling nods, dropping a spoon and a fork onto the table, knowing that Mona's skills with chopsticks are non-existent.
"You will have to forgive me," says Mona quietly. "My birthdays often bring misfortune to the point where I don't even read what's in store."
Childe raises a brow. "What? Like always?"
Mona nods. "It's quite vexing, so for the day I ignore the stars and try my best to just go with the flow."
His gaze turns amused then. "Going with the flow would be accepting our gifts. I don't think you're good at that either."
"Yes, well, I'm not used to…"
"To what?" It's Xiangling this time, who watches her wide eyes.
"Having friends, I suppose. My birthdays are rather lonely."
Childe thumbs his chin. "Maybe it isn't bad luck—"
"I don't believe in luck."
"Right." He laughs, shaking his head. "Maybe it's less misfortune and more the fact that you don't just… let yourself enjoy the day. Mona, I think you're looking for zebras where there are only horses."
Mona purses her lips. "I don't know what you mean."
"He means that when you go looking for a bad time, that's all you're going to find."
Well, they have a point, she supposes. Mortals are strangely susceptible to suggestive thinking, whether they think so or not. Mona doesn't mean to be so pessimistic but it's hard to be positive when all you see is disaster in the stars.
"Maybe you should look," says Childe, breaking the silence. "I mean, it's been years since you've given it a go. Maybe the alignment of the stars has changed or something." He waves vaguely, as though he knows what he's talking about. He does not.
"I shall eat the food, then." A pause. "And accept your gifts. I appreciate it, truly."
Both Childe and Xiangling are pleased with this outcome, and when Mona tucks into the food, they begin to chatter away. It is nice, thinks Mona, sharing a meal with others. Xiangling brings another plate for Childe and sits down to talk.
And really, the food is definitely worth it, a symphony of spices just bursting in Mona's mouth.
Later that night, curiosity tugs at Mona as she settles down to camp for the night. Maybe you should look, said Childe, annoyingly flippant. As if fate is something to trifle with. Still.
Mona takes a risk and does just that. She calls forth Hydro and flattens it into a disc, and she peers into the reflection to read whatever the stars wish to impart. Her heart skips a beat and she smiles. Perhaps Childe was onto something, for she doesn't see anything untoward.
No, no, it seems to be smooth sailing for the next few days.
Mona grins.