#while lyney is stressed for multiple reasons in the background

[therosefrontier]

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

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Fandom: Genshin Impact

Word Count: 1445

Characters: Lynette (POV), Lyney

Placement?: Some time ago in backstory, soon after Lynette receives her Vision

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“Lynette! Lynette, speak to me! How many fingers am I holding up!?”

Lyney really had no need to be so loud, Lynette thought. Whatever injury she may or may not have had nothing to do with her hearing, really. Still, she found that she was being a little slower to respond than she would like.

She slowly maneuvered herself into a more upright position on the safety net, her head ringing with the motion. “Three,” she answered in response to Lyney’s question. She then took his hand and allowed him to help her off of the net.

“I am fine,” she continued once on solid ground, since she knew that her brother would soon ask again. She looked up at the contraption hanging by ropes high above the stage, the “locked” box that she was to free herself from. It was one iteration of the trick among many, as it was Lyney’s style to never do the same show twice, but it was familiar enough, not too great of a challenge. Or, to be more specific, it wasn’t a challenge to get out of the box. Getting to the ground was slightly different.

“Are you sure?” Lyney asked. He looked frightened and anxious, which was uncharacteristic for him these days, but it was understandable. He just watched her fall from a great height, and she was admittedly still feeling the reverberations from the impact, but it was nothing of note compared to “Father’s” training, so she wouldn’t complain.

“I am,” she assured. “The net caught my fall.” She was stating the obvious, but yes. That was its design.

“Well…alright,” Lyney relented, still seeming tense. “Just give yourself a break to recover, alright? And maybe we should rethink this trick, too. We did something similar from the ground already—I think we can add something fresh while still keeping it there. Putting the box in the air requires a lot of acrobats on your part, and I don’t know…”

“But it was my idea,” Lynette pointed out, cutting him off. “It’s not much of a concern, really. I want to try it this way.”

“What? Oh, y-yeah, sure. Of course!” Lyney dropped his awkwardness quickly in favor of an easy smile. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from my dear sister! I suppose it’s only natural that you would get even more ambitious after—uh, I mean, after everything we’ve done already! There is nowhere to go but up from here, Lynette!”

Lynette silently nodded, observing the rapid changes in Lyney’s expression. “Yes. I will take my break now.”

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Seven weeks earlier, Lynette received a Vision. In the time that transpired since that day, she noticed that Lyney had gotten more anxious. It would seem that a big part of it lay in the fact that Lynette no longer went on missions with him. Twice now, the House of the Hearth has sent her out alone, the reason being because she could now do more dangerous activities, since she wielded a Vision. It was something Lynette didn’t think of much before, back when they were children and Lyney would read her the amazing stories he found about people with Visions and all the fantastic exploits they would do. Since that power was so rare, it was also quite lonely. It meant that from here on out, she must do things differently from everyone else, and be put in a separate category. Lynette’s powers were nothing like the stories, though. They were quite modest, really. It would take additional training to hone her abilities further, but also, she had no desire to learn to make dramatic, flashy displays. She would learn what was practical for her line of work, and nothing more. She operated in stealth far more often than she fought armies.

Lynette was not lonely, either. She was fine. She had Lyney, and also, Freminet. She and Lyney had their magic show together. Even if she had to do more dangerous work for the Fatui now, on account of her increased abilities, she still had this. She cared nothing for the crowds or the fame that gratefully overlooked her much of the time, but she was content to go where her family went. She needed nothing more.

Lynette continued to practice her trick. In the theater hall that was to be the site of their next performance, a mere two weeks from now, she made the most of her time. She climbed up into the box, lifted high above the stage, and she discreetly made her escape, climbing onto the structure hidden behind the curtain to get to the stairs that would lead her down. It was rather different, for her. She created the shows alongside Lyney, yes, but he spearheaded most of the ideas. Usually, Lynette’s role in this process was to point out the flaws in Lyney’s bolder schemes and remind him of budget constraints. However, it was Lynette who decided that she wanted to do this trick from the air.

Lyney was the magician. Even when Lynette escaped the box herself by way of the elaborate contraption inside, “he” would be the one who did the miraculous act, as far as the audience was concerned. This deception did not bother Lynette at all. In fact, she preferred it. She didn’t like attention or to be asked questions. Besides, Lyney could just as easily do the trick himself. He had capabilities that went far beyond his silver tongue and knack for redirecting the audiences’ eye. It didn’t matter whether or not he was actual one “doing” anything.

For this reason, however, there seemed little cause for Lynette practicing over and over again, into the depths of the night. She fell to the safety net yet again. It would seem that her feline blood only did so much for her in terms of natural balance and that elusive ability to “always land on your feet.” It might, however, serve as an explanation as to why she felt this sudden desire to be up in high places, although it created more work for herself, which was generally something she preferred to avoid if she could. She rather liked it up here. Perhaps, the desire was a result of the Anemo Vision she now wore at her back. It was an element closely associated with the sky, which supposedly made her “one with the wind.” Some wielders used to “fly,” although that, of course, was more of an illusion created by the power of Anemo lifting or launching oneself up, rather than true, unrestrained flight.

She received the Vision when she jumped off a cliff, so that could have something to do with it. Or maybe, it was sometime afterwards. She didn’t notice when it happened; she was too focused on pulling her unconscious brother out of the water, and of dragging them both to safety through that dark, unfamiliar forest. She sometimes wondered why she got it, as well. She heard that Visions were granted to the ambitious, but she was not ambitious. She had no aspirations at all aside from simply living, so she could not tell what the big deal was for. Still, it was a useful tool. It saved their lives by acting as Lynette’s guide, quite possibly, so she would readily thank whatever deity was responsible for that reason alone. Although, she did suspect sometimes that the mysterious giver of Visions could simply be a machine like the Oratrice. It seemed improbable to her that even the gods could see everyone everywhere all at once, as would arguably be necessary to perform such a feat with constancy.

Lynette continued practicing. She did her brief balancing act in the rafters, keeping a skilled, nimble step in that place where no one could see her. One morning, she received another directive. She needed to investigate an Abyss stronghold, it seemed. And she would do it alone.

Lyney was anxious. Lynette had no faith that any words she could come up with would assuage him, so she said nothing. She just stayed. She stayed by his side, forever his shadow, listening to him talk to many people, listening to him regale to her his plans.

And then Lynette would go on her own to the stage in the empty auditorium, and she would do her practice in simple, methodical manner.

That night, she decided it was time. “You can take the safety nets down,” she told the stage hands, her tone certain. “I won’t be needing them, now. The show is in only a few days, after all.”

She would be fine. Even if she did fall, it really would be nothing of note.