#!cisoriaseams

[dustymetaltrail]

[DRESSING ROOM]

A jingle, the door opening to the boutique. "Welcome to Chioriya Boutique, how can I—" She stops, mouth agape as she perceives the mechanical cowboy before her. A tilt of her head to the side, eyes squinting, bemused and baffled by this strange man before her. A need pinched between her thumb and index in indirectly pointed towards him, with her hand flourishing an open palm, silently asking too many questions to feasibly understand.

"A. A crop top? A zip up crop top? A zip up, long sleeve crop top? With the cuffs folded? Who let you dress like that this morning? This is more dire than I ever could've anticipated. Come on, I need your measurements." Several, small, circular hand gestures, ushering the cowboy in closer. "This isn't gonna fix itself. Chop, chop!"

all he wanted to do was come in and look at the fancy hats , that's all he wanted , he wasn't even sure if he came into the right store , his eyes looked around a little , before his attention turned to the woman who welcomed him , he raised a hand and went to open his mouth -- serrated teeth shining through , but before words could leave his lips . . . the criticism began rolling in , his expression grew more and more shocked by the second , he kept trying to speak , but each time , another comment to his outfit , this was baffling ! who was this woman ? !

" hey -- I'll have you -- the zipper is con -- the sleeves are com -- i don't want them in the way ! i dressed my darned self ! who the fork you callin' dire ? ! " measurements ? what's she on about ? despite his confusion , he just followed her lead , her commanding aura was simply overpowering , he felt like he couldn't really say no to whatever she was saying .

[crowfeatherd]

Fingers drum upon the corners of a clipboard, carmine eyes scanning down a list of crossed out names. Lips purse with displeasure. Dire circumstances have befallen the illustrious Chioriya Boutique, with a new replacement for staff being a quite the necessity. Now this was a predicament. Today alone, nine interviews already that had resulting in nothing. This man would mark the final interview, and considering the upcoming projects coming, perhaps she should just hire him, use him for whatever he's good for, then fire him.

No, she wasn't that bad of an employer.

Still, about as far as standards go, they're in the dirt.

Gaze meets the cloaked man as he enters the room. So far, not impressive. But it takes a real bold individual to try and rock chaps in this day and age. Even if it was a miss, it's that boldness that really sets him apart. The cloak is... also odd. A sleeve with buttons on only one side. Feathers on the other to off set the imbalance. It's a shame he's a man; probably doesn't understand symmetry and asymmetry. A male model could still be useful, though.

"Well, welcome. You're here for the job interview, correct? At the Chioriya Boutique? I'm Chiori, nice to meet you. Why don't you take a seat and tell me about yourself? Some of your past experiences?" An open hand, motioning to the empty chair across from her. The office was fairly small, a backroom to the actual boutique, in theory.

Moze has never had to interview for a job in his entire life, and it shows in the way he comes through the door dressed in the clothes he'd just washed fresh blood out of yesterday, how his hair looks like he'd just woken up, or the way one hand hovers constantly near the hilt of the knife sheathed at his waist - a warning or simply some kind of personal comfort. From under the shadow of his hood, he eyes the woman - Chiori, as she's introduced herself - warily. Those robes she wears are layered such that any manner of thin weapon could be concealed within them, and the exasperated look on her face says she might not even think twice about pulling one out if this doesn't go her way. Which means he needs to sit himself in that offered chair immediately.

He introduces himself with a muttered version of his name as he takes his seat stiffly, back straight and at attention, hands set impatiently on his knees. A moment passes in silence as Moze gathers his thoughts, reminding himself alongside the answers to the questions that he's playing a role, and that he's trying to be hired for a job.

"I clean up... messes," he starts with a grimace. He hates talking about himself. "General Feixiao leaves behind no shortage of them."

Should he have said her name? He doesn't know anymore, but he presses on anyway:

"Blood, or dirt, or anything else, I'll take care of it. I also know dozens of ways to hide my presence. You won't see me unless I want you to."

What else... At this point, Moze had been staring intently at Chiori's face as he rattled off his abilities, but now his eyes lower to the floor to think. Many of the other things he was good at weren't intended to be spoken out loud. And he doesn't have a note from Jiaoqiu to help him this time.

"And... I'm good with... weapons?"

[feliscus]

⸻　 　[ who, what, where ] ,　 scene one! starring :　chiori ( @cisoriaseams ) & lyney ( @feliscus ) .

ah, and here is miss chiori's cutting wit, as sharp as her scissors. it could be worse. lyney feels a faint grin twitching on his lips, then has to bite down on it, flinches instead like he's been struck. right now, he isn't lyney, and his character certainly would not laugh. he must convince her, then. her character is not one to be easily swayed.

that's fine. lyney can be convincing. he is a habitual liar, and acting is just spinning a web.

“forgive me, miss. a gift, then,” he swiftly corrects. “or even a decoration for your home! our products come in great variety.” a flourish of his hand swept outward, brandished like he would when revealing the final act of one of his magic tricks. “our store's clockwork is all one of a kind. there's none like it anywhere—even in our own shop, you would never be able to find another aside from the original.”

lyney smiles politely, its edges a little strained, his hands folding behind his back. “why don't you tell me what kind of gift you're looking for, miss?” his head inclines. “then i can prove it to you. i'm sure i can find something that's just perfect.”

[immovablewill]

[DRESSING ROOM]

"Goodness, is this what the Tenryou commission has you wearing now? Almighty Shogun above, we've got to fix this..." Chiori would crouch, taking measurements of the crow-feathered general. "They just let you all wear anything? I forgot how traditional Inazuma still is."

⁀➴ OVERTURE 2024

That—…

…A heavy frown tugged at her lips, golden eyes following the infamous designer’s while shifting uncomfortably from where she stood. Her usual uniform—one she had always worn with pride and confidence—felt suddenly inadequate under the designer’s sharp gaze, even when she couldn’t recall exactly how she’d been roped into this. Something about an official shoot, was it? All she knew was that one moment, she was walking a few steps behind the Almighty Shogun, guarding her, and the next, the same Shogun had easily pawned her off when someone, a director or photographer, had requested for their aid.

It felt absurd—here she was, the General of the Tenryou Commission, reduced to standing stiffly under the scrutinizing eye of a sharp-tongued seamstress. That all she could do was to lower her head slightly with a quiet hum in response to the harsh words only made the situation feel even more ridiculous.

So… So perhaps she does not have the best sense of fashion (in fact, the Lady Guuji once said she had absolutely none of it), but what good does fashion serve in her line of duty? She had no need for expensive kimonos or fancy dresses. Her uniform alone should suffice. (Thus, explains why she only ever wore them, having ordered multiple such that she wouldn’t have to worry about needing to wash her clothes for five months, should an emergency arise.)

“ My uniform does its job well, " came her delayed response, her shoulders slumping slightly. " It is easy to move in and does not hinder me from my duties. I don’t see why we must go through all this trouble and change out of my usual clothing… ”

Any other excuse she might have offered died on her lips as the seamstress swiftly fixed her with a sharp look, and just as swiftly, Sara’s resolve faltered.

She heaved out a heavy sigh, surrendering to the inevitable.

[dellarosula]

╰ ✧ ˖ @cisoriaseams asked:

[DRESSING ROOM] "Ah, you're back. I haven't seen you in a couple weeks, Navia." Standing from an unfinished piece, her friend would find less divided attention than most others. Sleeves were rolled up, hair more disheveled than usual. It appears that whatever it was she'd been working on had given her more of a struggle than she'd care to admit. "Come now, you've got your work cut out for you." While her inflection does not change, it's clear that this is no ordinary client, but instead a good friend. Even at the prospect of ordering the Spina's President around, it never feels too difficult a task, usually because a rewards lies at the end. "I've got a couple dresses for clients similar in physique to you, as well as your latest order ready. I just need your thoughts." Like a whirlwind, Navia has several garments thrust into neutral arms, and is quickly pushed into the changing room, with a curtain swinging, metal rings hissing along a supportive rail. "Quickly now, The boutique has been busy with all these visitors for whatever this festival is. I haven't even been able to book appointments with how much time it's all taking, and that's not even accounting for orders that I have deadlines for afterwards." A glance at the dressing room curtain. "How's your day been, Navia?"

Straight to business, such is the Chioriya Boutique way. Modeled top down by its founder, the very woman dumping enough dresses to last even her a month. Not that Navia has ever once complained, of course. They are friends, after all, and that had to have come from somewhere.

"Goodness, these are..." She's careful to hook the garment bags on the nearest hook with minimal risk of crushing any one of them. "You've had your work cut out for you, I see."

The first is unzipped, its protective layer shrugged away so that Navia can begin the well rehearsed art of donning it. This is routine for them, a song and dance that the Spina's president has never once tired of. Even on her busiest of days, she would make certain there was time to play Chiori's mannequin. It eases her mind, silly as it may seem.

"My day? Certainly nothing compared to yours." She chirps in response, humming to herself as she goes through the motions. Laces here, the odd zipper there-- Navia makes careful work of smoothing out where and how the skirts lay, running a thorough inspection in the mirror before turning towards the curtain.

"Now then, prepare yourself for the latest and greatest work by Teyvat's greatest seamstress-" The curtain is thrown back with as much flair as she knows how to muster ( which is, generally speaking, quite a lot ) and out steps Navia with a smile. "Ta-da!"

Her next role is that of the pincushion, but she hardly minds. It's prime conversation time, after all. "Your turn! Tell me all about your latest projects."

[incitomniaveritas]

As the previous scene closes, a new one opens. Chiori sits behind a desk, idling about as she waits for the double glass door to swing open. Eyes trace over tacky bubble letters pasted to the outside world, beckoning entry.

'Cats, Cats, and More Cats!'

The store smelled of the port, with constant filters and bubbling sounds echoing throughout the warehouse-like set. Several foot high walls, stacked with tanks and running water. Colorful rocks decorate the bottom of each, with plaster and artificial plants, structures, and coral giving the creatures being sold a more enriching environment.

One creature catches the seamstress' gaze. It's eyes curve up from it's body, pincers grabbing at nothing like the foolish shellfish it was. The absurdity of the situation continues to set in, more defeated as the gaze is prolonged. As a mouth splits open, gills sucking in water, a sigh.

In this very moment, one might mistake Chiori and her judgement of the instructions to be a teenager who would prefer to be anywhere else aside from working.

Suddenly, the ring of a bell. The door opens, and with genuinely no enthusiasm whatsoever, "Welcome to Cats, Cats, and More Cats. Where we sell cats and cat accessories. How many I help you today?"

WhWhWh 2024 一

When she had looked at the tank, Ratio could not help but look as well. He watches the shellfish pinched air and kicked its legs in fits of movement, nothing out of the ordinary except that it didn't follow suit with what she was speaking. The enthusiasm of using aquatic life as a prop on such notice as a cat, he does find it absurd. He would chuckle at the strangeness, but the lady that traced him now was not filled with a humorous light. His attempt to hide the fact he almost found this absurdly humourous in his expression by getting back in character.

To evade allowing an awkward pause, he puts on a tone of wonder, as if he was missing something and wandering about. "This side should have been full of stores, I couldn't have turned wrong through the district一oh, miss!" His final word is a bit brighter in tone, even if his eyes still scrutinize the tank beside them.

"I was just on the boulevard when I came this way looking for another pet store, I can only get a cat you see, and the abundance here is," if he looks into the eyes of a fish with no interest but admiration it was at least taken care of, you'd have to excuse him for the lack of glee. "Quite reassuring. Would you be well versed in your line up, miss?"

[unfxllenone]

[DRESSING ROOM]

To the dressing room with another. All of these new potential clients seem to result in only familiar faces. The traveler was welcome though. One couldn't forget all that she's done. A peculiar look, a smile that Chiori rarely gives.

"Lumine. You're always welcome here. Now, come, let's get to business. What are you looking for today," she hums, measuring tape in hand.

The fabric billows with every step, smooth silk slipping from Lumine's grasp no matter how hard she tries to keep it in hand. It's just too much -- she's used to traveling light in all aspects, ensemble included, and though she can adapt to most things.. this hustle and bustle between stages is proving too much for her weary fingers to deal with.

A battle with anything but textiles next time, please.

" Chiori..! " Still, the familiar seamstress will not earn herself a sour customer today -- on top of being delighted to see her, Lumine also knows better than to take out her discontent on someone who would surely dish it back tenfold. Why ruin that pretty smile, anyhow? " Aren't you a sight for sore eyes. "

Again, she gathers the excess material in her grasp, blowing her bangs out of her face as she straightens up.

" I'm just -- not used to dressing like this, so I could use some help, I think. " She laughs, a little sheepish.

" How, um.. difficult would it be to attach one of those little --... " Oh, geez, what are they called again? Lumine gestures by wrapping her hand around her wrist.. for a second, before the material makes a break for it and slips from her hold. An annoyed huff, and she gathers it up for the hundredth time.

" The straps that help carry the train of a dress? A loop or something? I feel bad about such a pretty outfit dragging.. "

[garmgeyr]

Just an inch from his lips, lighter open but not quite lit, the cigarette gets swiped right out from between his fingers, but Gallagher can’t help but laugh good-naturedly, almost impressed. This cat has claws. He’d seen dozens of people wind up in this place, very few by choice, most of them scared half to death by the circumstances that brought them here to begin with. Screaming, fleeing, passing out - all of that fell well within the norm for these unsuspecting guests. This one though? Whether out of fear, pride, or something else entirely, she seemed quick to use those claws. Everything had to be done on her own terms. Gallagher liked that.

Even if it means he doesn’t get his smoke. He chuckles, eyebrows raising.

“Y’know, most people tend to ask before taking things like that.” It doesn’t bother him though, and he makes that obvious - either to get under her skin or to play that game of tug-of-war she’s established. She’s the hostage here. Or rather, she’s the dead, and he’s the ferryman. He slips his hand back into his pocket as if to fish out his case of cigarettes again, but doesn’t quite do that. Instead, he falls for each time she offers the one she’d stolen, laughing when she finally lets him take it back.

”Wouldn’t’ve even been mad if you’d kept it,” he mutters around the filter and sparks a flame that, for a moment, pushes back the gloomy, cold shadows with a halo of warmth. But it takes only a moment to char the end, even in the rain, and then with a metallic clink, the darkness falls back over them. With a nod for the young woman to follow, he starts for the mouth of the alleyway at an ambling pace, a trail of smoke drifting behind.

“Here's another question.” They stop at the street corner, although it’s clear that it hasn’t seen a car or spheroid, or even really any foot traffic, in quite some time. A rusted chainlink fence blocks off the skeleton of a ruined building across the way, its cement faces painted in fading graffiti, its windows little more than jagged teeth of glass, but from one end of the road to the other, there is nothing but foggy loneliness.

Holding the smoldering cigarette by his side now, Gallagher glances down to make sure his guest is still with him.

“What if there’s no way back?”

sleepie times

[immovablewill]

About Chiori

⁀➴ Send me “About [NAME]” for my character’s thoughts! [ accepting ]

ABOUT CHIORI Friendship Lv. 4

Ah, the lady behind Chioriya Boutique. I have never had the chance to meet her or visit her shop in Fontaine, but her reputation precedes her. In fact, I often hear about her work, especially when a festival draws near. Her yukatas are the most popular—whenever the summer festival arrives, you should expect to see nearly everyone wearing her designs. Hm? Me? I’ve never had much use for one. I always volunteer to stay on duty during the festivities, so my uniform is all that I need.

[huntersoath]

A box, wrapped in a patterned orange and brown paper. A little bow is tied at the top, matching in its geo-like patterns. A quick tug on it and the wrapping paper would seem to flutter off, without the need for a tear, although such diligent folds were no doubt lost upon a woman as busy as Clorinde.

The care package would contain a few separate pieces. The first a button-up shirt, white and nearly identical to the one she so often found herself in. The difference? It was custom-tailored with measurements more accurate to the duelist (don't ask how she got them). Beneath the neatly folded shirt, a new mug, with several different teas and coffee blends. A shared suffering, knowing all too well the pain of early mornings after late nights. And finally, a few stray pieces of paper, with some handwritten instructions for basic, origami folds, along with a letter.

Dear Clorinde,

I hope this finds you well on your birthday. I've got quite the ordeal going on, so I tasked Tamoto with delivering this present. Your greatly appreciated for all you do for Fontaine, and I treasure our kindled companionship. Thank you for your help around the boutique, and for being so generous as to look the other way when I have to handle bad clientele.

P.S. I hope this shirt fits you better than the ones you always seem to find yourself in. It is okay to buy new clothing.

Warmest Regards, Chiori of Chioriya Boutique, Located in the Court of Fontaine Proper

The letter deposited on top of the package delivered to her immediately gives her the idea of exactly who had sent such an elaborately, carefully decorated gift-- the intricate folds and ribbon tied flawlessly around it speak of a dedication and skill that could only belong to one person that she knew... and the thought brings a warm smile to her face. And of course, as violet eyes scan the contents of the card, her suspicions are confirmed. There's no visible rush in her actions, but the slight relaxation of her posture suggests a quiet curiosity as the box opens with a soft creak- and the familiar shade of navy blue that greets her isn't something she expected. It's a look that she normally dons, so it's not much different from normal... but Clorinde knows the amount of effort put into each and every stitch, and she knows the quality of the work that comes from Chiori's hand. Her fingers run lightly over the fabric of the shirt, testing the softness of the cotton, and examining the craftsmanship with the practiced eye of someone who has always appreciated quality. Though she may not outwardly express much in the way of emotion, the subtle satisfaction that lingers in her gaze and a softening at the corners of her mouth is enough for those who know her to understand what this means to her. It means more to her than anything she could buy, and a soft chuckle rumbles in her chest as a response. "I'll have to thank her for this. Somehow... She always manages to improve this even further with every order I place," She muses to herself, fingers toying with the packaging on the box of tea packed under the clothing. "As for the tea, I believe we can share a cup." The origami instructions... That does bring a laugh from her. The vote of confidence in her 'artistic' ability to follow them is certainly appreciated.

"Thank you, Chiori. I only hope I can repay even a fraction of the kindness you've shown me."

@cisoriaseams

[entwinefates]

‎ ‎ ‎ RIDDLE ME THIS: when do one feel like a doll trapped in a dollhouse? perpetually, when one is as small as paimon, and irritably, when one is fastened to the bed like she is.

‎ ‎ ‎ it's not the most clever riddle, to be sure, but the little fairy can't help it. as she lies thrashing in her heavy velvet sheets and a searing, scorching pain cuts through her skull once more, all she can think about is flinging herself into the nearest ocean and instantly dissolving into its waters. but even that would involve a tremendous amount of willpower, and she realizes with a frustrated whine that she can't even muster the strength to tear off her covers, let alone fly anywhere.

‎ ‎ ‎ ❛ paimon's going to bake here, ❜ ‎ she thought to herself miserably. ‎ ❛ she's going to bake in this death oven and turn into a delicious moon pie, devoured by a pigeon, and it'll be the travelers' fault because they HATE her and left her here to ROT. ❜

‎ ‎ ‎ it's not true in the slightest, she knows, but doesn't she deserve some melodrama for all her suffering? oh, paimon could see herself as the poor ingenue, weeping on stage alone, waiting for a great golden hero to rescue her from this flaming prison of cushions and blankets. alas, it would seemeth her destiny-eth was to remained chained to a bed for all eternity, forced to merely dream of being released from suffocating weight.

‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ as if that would ever happen, ❞ ‎ paimon muttered under her breath, kicking her feet against the blanket. between sputtering coughs, she vehemently swore, ‎ ❝ if tr-traveler thinks they can just leave paimon here then they've got another thing coming! paimon, escape dash! ❞

‎ ‎ ‎ with a twist of the covers and a great deal of effort, the little fairy managed to roll off the bed, unraveling as she went and falling unceremoniously onto the ground with a loud thud. she groaned aloud at the impact, stars exploding behind her eyes as the throbbing pain pulsed around her skull. a small price to pay for freedom, she reasoned as she continued to flounder on the floor, rolling and sliding across the dark wood like a member of the shuumatsuban. heh, once she got out of here, maybe ayato could hire her as a spy…

‎ ‎ ‎ unfortunately, paimon's dreams of grandeur were cut short by the sharp clicking of heels and the twist of a doorknob. the little fairy, delirious from fever and exhaustion, vision spinning with dark blotches and her head throbbing, wheezed and sputtered as the guest finally unveiled herself.

‎ ‎ ‎ ❝ ch-chiori? what are you doing here? ❞

✦ ‎ TAILORED TO YOUR NEEDS

[huntersoath]

A quiet curiosity settles over Clorinde's features, her footsteps light as she nears the familiar figure of her acquaintance seated at a small table nestled under the shelter of a parasol. Originally, she had come to deliver a small package-- a payment for some repairs done to her cape in the wake of a particularly fierce duel-- but... the colorful paper situated in the delicate grasp of Chiori's hands draws her attention almost immediately. The deep focus evident on the other woman's face piques her interest, and violet eyes survey the folds and creases executed with a meticulous precision that she appreciated. That same reverence was apparent in the way the duelist maintained her weaponry, and ... it kind of looked relaxing, in a weird sort of way. Wouldn't something like that make a wonderful gift? It was small, intricate, and rather personal. A grand idea struck her in that moment, and she paused to clear her throat.

"Hello, Chiori. I've brought my payment, as promised," Her voice breaks the otherwise quiet seclusion of the shade situated outside of Chioriya's Boutique. "Debts aside, however... What are you working on? I don't believe I've ever seen you do this." As of this moment, it didn't seem to have any definitive form; but with each additional step, the creation seemed to evolve into something new and exciting. In a single smooth, practiced motion, Clorinde pulls out the chair situated across from her companion-- her posture remains poised, yet comfortable as she takes a seat. "I do hope I'm not disturbing you."

@cisoriaseams

art is in the eye of the beholder (i hope)

learning origami with @cisoriaseams

[incitomniaveritas]

The first statement of clarification, he did catch. He could see she narrowed her eyes at him, and if he was to make an assumption: it seems she's usually this way, but the intensity is unknown. The scrutiny and fast judgement to move on from whatever he had said to trip her up before. He's already on stage and he sees she has already figured out it's just best to continue the scene despite that, as a partner would roll with her calling a fish a cat. Either that or he's dubbed good enough for the scene, but seen as crazy. If not for the fact he's taken the proverbial bait of talking to the fish as if they were quadrupedal, he was sure he'd dub himself insane as well.

"These cats are," he keeps up the appearance of perusal and while he's at it, assesses them accordingly, "marvelous. No children are in the picture, but I do appreciate the honesty."

With his back to quite a few offstage, he does drop his pretenses of pretending to look at the wildlife before him. The world's wildlife holds a biological similarity to planets or even pocket dimensions with carbon based life, especially with the water of some areas being integrated with oxygen so finitely. As she addressed each him to each cat, he took mental note of all title and region based names. He'll look these up later, but for now...

"I am someone who stays indoors quite often, but the environment back home is cold and unyielding, if I'm honest. Even if I travel to warmer places, the between is not so kind." He pushes the tone of minor concern. Trying to describe space with so many loss terms compared to deadly and inhospitable. "What would be the survival probability—I mean, preference for such an environment?" He bites his tongue.

look at all these cats

[crowfeatherd]

This Chiori is quick to pick up the slack in the conversation, but Moze supposes that this is more interrogation than conversation anyway. She asks questions, he answers, and then the results shake out as they will. He looks up again when she brings up his employer and it catches him at a loss for a second: a crossroads between truth and fiction.

”… Former,” he says after a beat, then adds on, straight-faced, “I killed her.”

A story in which he’d succeeded in his assassination attempts against the general, and was now granted the “freedom” Feixiao had promised him all those years ago. Tentatively, Moze grasps that plotline to steer his character through the scene. At the end of it all, he’d still need a job… right? That’s why he’s here. Right?

”I need a new job,” he says candidly, and Chiori lays out her requirements, reminding him, quite frankly, of his “former” employer. For better or worse, that eases the tension from his shoulders a little, but he still regards her with sharp, nearly-feral suspicion from behind his shaggy hair.

”I prefer to work in the background, but if you must see me, then… I will make myself visible as needed.”

He says nothing about her insistence on handling “unruly clients” herself, but thinks to himself that this interview must be going quite well now… And more importantly, that it must nearly be over, until she startles him with a question about his attire.

”What does what I’m wearing have to do with anything?” he asks brusquely, squaring his shoulders. He'd never given his clothing much thought (as Chiori must be well aware), and spares only a glance down at himself. “I must blend with the shadows, and the fabric must be easy to clean. … That’s all.”

fashion statement

who, what, where w/ @crowfeatherd from here

[sumerananubis]

Liyue, as ever, was vastly different from Sumeru. Though Chenyu valley was probably the closest in climate to the great rainforest. Perhaps... calmer though, but Cyno was quite happy to just pass that off as "adepti shenanigans" and let it be than to comment on it. It wasn't a natural calmness, to his desert honed senses. But whatever.

"I've tried most of the teas from Sumeru," Cyno hummed in reply to his travelling companion. "If I don't leaf the known, then I'd run out of new flavours to try and that would be a tearavesty. And please, it's just Cyno at the moment."

Heh. Plus it was an excuse to not be the General Mahamatra for a length of time.

"But what of your own tea tastes, Ms Chiori?" he asked.

tea leaf gaming

[romaritimes]

The young diver had only arrived a few minutes prior, already dismayed at the prospect of hearing bickering as he approached the doorstep of Professor Kettle's clinic, and wondering if he should just turn around and pretend he hadn't found the place, or at least take a lap around Liyue Harbor until the conflict settled down enough. He held his mechanical penguin companion in his hands, pressed up against his abdomen as a source of comfort, his furrowed eyes flitting nervously back and forth between Madame Chiori and Professor Kettle. Maybe, just maybe, if he began to slowly tiptoe away centimeter by centimeter…

Freminet jumps in his spot, his fingers tightening around his penguin as he's addressed, his surprised eyes wandering from Chiori's expression down to his boots. "Well, I…"

He'd taken on this commission at the urge of some of his older siblings, who had argued he'd be a great fit for it precisely because it was hard for him to speak up to others. So far, he did not find that this arrangement was improving his anxiety but only exacerbating it, Freminet feared.

He presses his lips together into a thin line, his eyes studying the wooden floor of the clinic as he hums quietly, trying to think of the few times he's gotten healed up, or his brief stay in the Fortress' clinic. Those were to treat flesh wounds, with the exception of that Primordial Seawater incident, which he supposes may not help much here considering he was largely unconscious during his treatment.

"Um… Well, I think it might be best to maybe do the best we can to treat the symptoms one by one, and maybe when the patient feels better, we can work on eliminating the last of the ailment…" Freminet's voice already starts out quiet, but it begins to fade off as he continues with his unconfident suggestion, though he looks to Chiori as if in a silent reassurance that he's on her side for this issue.

The professor guffaws without even looking back from the board, shaking his head and tutting. "It's clear this young man doesn't add any credence to your argument, he can barely speak without shaking, after all," he scoffs, focused on pondering the writing on the board rather than have to pay any more attention than the two dunces in his clinic.

Freminet ignores the Professor's prickling words (or tries his best to put on a brave face, at least), and turns away at an angle so he's facing Madame Chiori just a bit more. He pitches his next thought to her instead, speaking quietly as he's unsure of whether or not it'd be something too obvious or already previously considered. "What if we tried some medicinal plants or remedies from Fontaine or Inazuma, or combining those ingredients with those from Liyue?"

arrogance has to be earned