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« IC.USERNAME » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION kaeya alberich ✦ genshin impact
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harasaka times

[ardencies]

[Harasaka offers more than just flowers arranged to appeal to one’s aesthetic sensibilities. Though there are blossoms bright and downright strange, smiling shamelessly at the overhead sun, vendors have set up stalls with rows upon rows of plants used for more utilitarian means.

Herbs, strange plants with roots claiming to heal most ailments if boiled and brewed properly. Leaves finely ground into dust, ointments created from the juices of thick leaves, sold in small little bottles with brown corks securing their insides. Dettlaff can scent little squares like these, crowded with shops, from a far distance — and his curiosity always brings him sulking a little closer, not unlike a wary cat who is always guided by his curiosity.

Eventually, he finds himself in front of a stall, next to a stranger (that’s you, Kaeya) browsing about, making conversation, perhaps, with the owner. And a moment of surreality overcomes him, in which the thought comes unbidden: he can only imagine what Regis would have to say about a place like this. How he would not stop gabbing on about the properties of this, asking about the workings of that; gathering up purchases by the fistfuls, likely without any practical thought regarding how to arrange them in an organized manner on the return trip. He remembers, in great detail, a small moment in time which Dettlaff had inquired about one of his many floral or herbal interests, and Regis had told him—

That? That’s Feverfew, and all told it’s particularly effective if—]

Brewed as a tea. [He says, quite suddenly, whether or not the stranger had asked to know. It doesn’t matter; if you were looking at what is basically wild chamomile, then you’re getting this random tidbit of info.]

Reduces swelling. Should that be a problem of yours.

[Dryly, with questionable helpfulness. It was certainly never a problem of his.]

i'm not late, jen... shh...

[masking]

[of course it's interesting, learning about plants' various uses? not that kaeya has ever relied upon poison; his innate charm has carried him through many a sticky situation, but as others are not as, ah, blessed in this particular department, it never hurts to know what plant does what! especially in this strange new world. so-and-so does such-and-such, which is countered by this-and-that—and let it be known that, as this vendor points out their various wares, kaeya is more than keen to encourage their monologuing. he made sure to familiarize himself with the more dangerous plants of his world, especially as—when?—they attracted attention on the black market; it only makes sense, then, for him to do the same here. dangers are dangers...

...and solutions are solutions? cures are cures, hence the attention kaeya is paying this particular stallkeeper. no matter how long-winded (and annoying) their ramblings prove to be, kaeya is willing to nod, to laugh, as needed...

but—ah! well. kaeya's dour-looking neighbor chooses to pipe up just as kaeya gestures toward a bundle of something-or-another, and while the stallkeeper is quick to praise his knowledge—very good, sir, very good—kaeya takes this opportunity to study him. hmm...]

Oh? You seem quite familiar with plants.

[based upon this, like, one thing, but—shh. kaeya reaches out to the bundle of chamomile, thumb brushing over the blooms before he abruptly shifts to another bundle of flowers. calla lilies! kaeya's (poisonous) favorites, and yet, as he runs his fingers along a petal:]

And these?

[used in small quantities, they can flavor a few bitter-tasting dishes—but otherwise, they're dangerous! deadly, even, though kaeya keeps his smile deceptively light. how fun!]

at least you didn't accidentally mark your notif as read somehow I'M SORRY ELIA

[ardencies]

[Strange how Dettlaff’s motivation to be helpful falls straight off of him after the chamomile comment, as though his mind has caught on to the associations he’s dredging up by indulging in such a thing, and therefore cutting off all attempts at doing so further. With the vendor’s praise, he can hear his old friend’s echoing in his mind, too—Well done, for a moment I thought you hadn’t bothered to pay attention!—and it twists something bitter in his chest, his gaze turning away.

Perhaps a casual exit might not be so terrible, except then there’s something actually bitter being motioned to him, a plant in which he does not quite recognize at first; or perhaps he is purposefully eschewing his focus elsewhere.]

I am not as familiar as you may think. This is borrowed knowledge from an old friend.

[The word spoken oddly… darkly. It’s fine, everything is fine.

Dettlaff crosses his arms, deigning to entertain their inquiries. He has half a mind to say that he does not know, but… Well. Perhaps he does know it, if he allows memory to flicker to the forefront.]

…Poisonous. Is that your goal?