#|| a polar star in darkest depths ; ajax

[inhumanheresy]

Childe’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline when Dehya speaks of surviving on Dragonspine without any ‘extra protection’.

“None? Your Vision must be the reason for that, surely.” He hadn’t missed the gleam of the sleek Sumeran case of the Pyro Vision hanging from her belt when he’d sized her up on her initial approach. Pyro wielders tend to take longer to grow cold than nearly anyone else, save those with Cryo visions, but a pervasive, unending icy climate does not care — one does not win an endurance competition against prolonged low temperatures.

To withstand the cold of Dragonspine without aid, Dehya’s Pyro control — both unconscious and practiced — must be highly skilled.

The mask behind his eyes flickers thin for a brief moment, a mere hint of his thirst for a fight shining through, the thunder of his blood rising— but this is not the time.

“Whatever the case may be, I do advocate for the use of a coat. The chill is… permeating. If you freeze, well,” he shrugs, a smile both humored and dangerous crossing his face as they step up to Wanmin’s counter, “you’ve now been warned.”

He raises his arm to wave as they approach the counter, and between height and familiarity manages to catch Chef Mao’s eye, the man making eye contact and giving a quick nod before returning to the customers he’d been attending. A pot of tea will accompany him when he approaches for their order, a variety either new, appropriate for the season and weather, or both.

“I’ll take you up on your offer at some point! I’ve never been to Sumeru, though I’ve met with traveling scholars, merchants, and warriors many a time, especially when they’re traveling through the commerce hub that is Liyue.”

He laughs, then heaves an exaggerated sigh as his gaze drifts to the distance. “Alas, duty calls. It may be some time before my schedule is freed up for personal time off aside from the usual evenings. Such is the life of the terrible Fatui.” At that last part, he tilts his head towards her with a long-suffering yet conspiratorial little expression, the mask on the side of his head bright in the lanternlight.

Drawing someone into confidence, whether in a lighthearted or serious manner, is a disarming tactic that’s worked well for him in Liyue. This time, he treads the line of saying only the truth while revealing nothing with practiced ease, yet with a spark of humor that he thinks will hit well with Dehya; she seems the sort to respond well to both the lightheartedness and the honesty.

“I’d say it might give me some time to acclimate to heat beyond what Liyue summers offer, but unlike your own tolerance, I’m not sure I’ll ever adapt to the sort of temperatures that I’ve heard of in Sumeru. The forest a little better, perhaps — summer in Liyue often feels like you’re swimming through the air like it’s harbor water, and I imagine the rainforest suffers much the same — but for a Snezhnayan-born like me, I fear that I’d crisp in the desert.

“And speaking of crisp—” He points to a dish with a sheen of golden-red oil currently making its way out of the kitchen. “If you want spice, heat, and something I think is altogether Liyue, ask for ‘chef’s choice, with moderate Jueyun chili’. As for ale, they don’t serve it here, but you can wander across the street, bring back alcohol, and the owner here won’t mind. Otherwise, I’m afraid that I can’t offer any recommendations on that account. Not much of an ale connoisseur myself.”

The wistful look in his eyes, the soft smile, the nostalgic way he talks about his homeland, all serves to only make her want to go even more. Hearing the passion for a place from someone who loves it, rather than the disdain from someone who's had a terrible time, will always be a better selling point, and now she's damn determined to get there one day.

"North is fine by me," she says with a small flick of her hair back over her shoulder. "Way I figure it, since I can survive on the Dragonspine without anything extra to keep me warm, I can survive in Snezhnaya. I might still bring a jacket anyway." There's the rumor about her family that's taken up space in the back of her mind when she thinks about going back to the Dragonspine, but she always tells people she's just warm-blooded or something, and that's why she doesn't need more clothing and a torch and to stay near the lights along the way.

The desert isn't as terrible, mostly just disgustingly hot to the people that aren't accustomed to it. But its heat hasn't got the same depth as the cold on the Dragonspine. That mountain can kill any who aren't prepared for it, and Dehya had gone in prepared only to find out it didn't affect her like it did others.

"Oh, you're talking my language even more now, I can't wait to try some. Sumeru has some really vibrant kinds of pickling, usually in vinegar, so it smells a lot when doing it. Some restaurants and shops serve primarily pickled vegetables, but it isn't overly common outside of that. We have plenty of dehydrated fruits, vegetables, and meats if you're going through the desert, and the forests are full of plants and animals.

"Have you been to Sumeru before? If not, you're in for a treat. I can show you some of the best places for spice and heat, get that snowy mouth of your sizzling in a different way than the peppers here."

At Childe's gesture, Dehya moves around the sailors and follows him to the shop where a chef works in front of an open counter. The streets had already smelled good from all of the cooked food being put out in time for dinner, but, getting closer, she feels her mouth watering. "Anything meat and spicy sounds incredible. And a hearty ale, if they have it. Any recommendations? She turns her head towards Childe, eyebrows raised slightly in question. "Or should I just pick anything and see how it goes down?"