toxin-trails

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin’s gaze remained cool, the faintest hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes as the girl stammered and rambled. It was… almost endearing, in a way. She observed the girl's nervousness carefully, noting the way she shifted and fidgeted, unable to fully mask the unease radiating from her. Myyrin couldn’t help but feel the distinct impression that the girl was trying her best to seem normal, even though it was clear she was far from comfortable in the situation. The girl seemed to recover quickly, or at least enough to offer a response. Myyrin tilted her head slightly as the girl stumbled over her words, insisting she wasn’t lost, that she was fine. A small, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Myyrin’s lips.

"I see." Her voice was even, offering no warmth or threat, just the detached calm that came naturally to her. Myyrin observed the girl’s growing discomfort with some amusement, but her expression remained neutral, unfazed by the girl's sudden nervous chatter.

When the girl mentioned being reminded of someone, Myyrin’s brow quirked slightly, though her expression didn’t shift much. It wasn't often she was told that and moreover she didn't think that there were people like her. "Someone?" She repeated, her tone flat yet probing. "Who would that be?"

The mention of someone else seemed to cause the girl even more uncertainty, her fidgeting increasing as she nervously rustled the leaves nearby. Myyrin’s eyes flicked briefly toward the motion before returning to the girl herself. "It seems as though you're quite uncomfortable, though you haven’t answered my question." She said, her voice unyielding, "I will not hurt you... If that is what you are afraid of. I may look like an Eremite, but I assure you that I am not one of them,."

There was something strange about the girl, something Myyrin couldn’t quite pinpoint. She wasn’t human, that much was clear, but it wasn’t just her appearance that set her apart. The way she carried herself, the subtle tension in her movements—it spoke of someone unused to being in such a direct interaction. Myyrin considered her words carefully, still cautious, but not unfriendly.

STARTER FOR @toxin-trails

With all her time on the surface, Geegee has deduced a singular thing: The surface’s healers are terrifying.

Scary. Intimidating. Any sort of adjective along those lines. Already, the fact that she has deduced ANYTHING is surprising, but nonetheless the advancement is welcomed. Anyway, let Geegee list it off all the terrifying healers she’s met. …Natalia, for one. All Geegee can say about her is that when you offer to install mechanical parts into somebody’s brain, they will most likely be scared of you. Golshan, for two! She’s not very much as scary as, say, Natalia, but she holds an intimidating energy that Geegee can’t help but feel skittish around. Even if she is nice and gives her band-aids… But she’s much more scary to think about after she broke the vial and violated health regulations. Or whatever.

Nonetheless, Geegee’s point is that she is scared of Teyvat’s healers(referred to as doctors or nurses or.. whatever..), and she doesn’t quite think her opinion will be changing anytime soon. So, it’s no surprise when she finally starts to fear the wrath of Golshan (and Natalia, since she’s staying there. An unpleasant fact, by the way), she decides she won’t be going ANYWHERE near both the Bimarstan and Sumeru City for a while. Sumeru City, just because the Bimarstan is on the outskirts of Sumeru City, so if she wanted to go back to the city, she’d have to pass through the area where the Bimarstan is, anyway. Even worse, she probably would’ve been able to run into Golshan… Not happening!

So, Geegee resolves that she’ll avoid any potential surface-dwelling-healer she’ll come to see… Not that she has much of a defining trait to associate with surface dweller healers, but since the Ishtar healers she was quite familiar with tended to have Sumeru Rose Blooms and carry around Sumeru Roses anyway, she swears to avoid Sumeru-Rose-purple colored hair or anybody just randomly carrying around satchels full of Sumeru Roses.

However, even with the indigo haired lady she’s come across today, Geegee doesn’t shy away because of her dangerously purple toned hair. Instead, she shies away because of the intimidating and cold aura that radiates off her skin. Like how a human may recoil because of a spider, Geegee now recoils from this woman, afraid for a stupid reason. Because being afraid of spiders is stupid. They’re not going to hurt you… Except the big, web shooting ones in ruins. Those hurt.

It was rude(or apparently not, since Miss Saiguu said it wasn’t), she knows, to stare at people from behind bushes or trees or whatever. But technically, she was people watching! And she certainly was watching this indigo haired woman finger the petals of a Sumeru Rose delicately. That probably should’ve sent off the “surface-dwelling-healer”-alarm bells in her head, y’know, with the combination of nearly-purple hair and the current interaction with Sumeru Roses, but… If Geegee has learned anything in the several months she’s been on the surface, it’s probably to look at the world with an open mind.

...Whether Geegee can do that or not is up for debate.

[toxin-trails]

"you're the exception"

your emotional walls have walls. seriously, you've guarded yourself so well, you sometimes forget how to look over your own walls and see the beauty of the world outside the safety of the protection you've set up. you forget how to escape the confines you built for yourself, that is, but some people (some incredibly rare people) somehow know their way through that intricate maze of walls and thorns around you. they're the exception, and terrifying as it might be at first, you'll let them know eventually. you smile at them where you'd scowl at another. you crack a joke where you'd usually stay quiet. you find yourself opening up more than you'd ever imagined. don't tear your fortress down if you don't want to, but maybe try to build your loved ones a little home inside it instead. you don't have to be alone. you deserve better than being alone in there.

tagging: @far-too-many-ocs (for adult merlot and huali :3 )

Which subtle ways of showing I love you are you?

Watching them from across the room

they don't see the way your eyes have softened as you look at them. you make sure they don't, at first, averting your gaze the moment it seems like they might turn your way and see the love in your eyes. but you might work up the courage after a while, and it feels like laying your soul bare for all to see as they finally meet the love in your eyes -- and, lo and behold, return it with a softness all their own. you're not much of a talker. you prefer to think, usually from a distance, and keep your thoughts to yourself. you're quiet about things in general; you've never been too comfortable taking up space. but you're great at admiring things: the beauty of your surroundings, the people you love. you can sit and watch and soak up the beauty of the world for a long time when given the chance. how much more beautiful would the world be, if everyone could look upon it with just as much love in their eyes?

Tagging: @feathers-and-song @not-the-darknight @ anyone that would like to join!

Snagged from: @veritvincit

[toxin-trails]

Do you ever wonder what your parents would’ve been like?

Myyrin’s shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug as she met the stranger’s gaze. Her expression remained calm, unreadable even, as if she were the picture of indifference.

“There’s no point in wondering about them,” she said coolly, her tone smooth and practical. “They’re gone, and their ashes were scattered in the sand long ago. What’s left is nothing but memories, and those fade with time.” Her lips quirked just slightly, the hint of a smile, though it never quite reached her eyes. “Life moves on, doesn’t it?”

But inside, behind the walls of her aloofness, her mind wandered to those lost fragments. She had no clear recollection of their faces—too young to remember when the Tanit attacked their camp, leaving behind only memories of a life that could have been. She could still recall the warmth of her father’s shakshouka, the comforting spices and rich flavors that had filled their nomadic life, the care in his hands as he cooked. That was something no one could take away, a simple meal made with love.

Her mother’s whistles, too—those playful, melodic sounds that seemed to fill the air whenever she was near, the way they drifted through the camp like a soft breeze.

But those memories were fleeting, like the waves on the shore, and she knew better than to linger on them. Life had given her nothing but hardship, and she had learned to carry on without looking back. She blinked, her gaze momentarily distant, and then her eyes returned to the stranger, cold and unaffected once again. “Like I said, no point in it.”

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin’s gaze softened as she took in his words. She was struck by his longing to reclaim fragments of a past he could barely remember—a desire so different from her own experience. Her heritage, with its bloody sands and a lineage that had cast her out, was something she had left behind by choice. And yet, here he was, cherishing any bit of his ancestry he could find, even the unknown names etched on weather-worn headstones.

“Well, Itto, if I come across anything during my travels, anything at all, about the name Arataki or the Crimson Oni—whether it’s buried in the Akademiya’s texts, or scrawled on some obscure field notes—I promise, I’ll make sure it finds its way back to you.” She spoke firmly, wanting him to know her offer was genuine. If there were even a trace of his people recorded somewhere, she’d ensure it reached him, even if the clues were small or incomplete.

Her curiosity stirred at his mention of his physiological differences. The Crimson Oni, built differently, were larger, stronger, and distinct even among Oni. She couldn’t help but wonder about the specifics—the physiological traits that set them apart, their deeper connection to the natural elements around them. But she kept these questions quiet. In her mind, Itto was a friend, not a research subject. Even as a scholar by nature, she respected that he was a person whose story deserved dignity and agency, not meddling for intellectual gain.

She watched him carefully, choosing her words with a thoughtful tone. “I’ll admit, part of me is curious. You’re the first Crimson Oni I’ve met, after all, and I’d be lying if I said there weren’t things about your lineage that interest me.” She gave him a gentle, understanding look. “But… I also know it’s not my place to pry. You’re a person, not a specimen for anyone to examine. Whatever makes you comfortable—that’s what matters.” She was blunt most of the times about her intentions and this time was no different.

Pausing, she thought for a moment, reflecting on their different approaches to their histories. "We’ve both got our pasts to make peace with, I guess. Yours, something you’re trying to reclaim, and mine… something I’d rather leave buried." She gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But I respect the way you’re doing this. I think it’s brave. The unknown can be just as heavy as any memory.”

She hoped he knew her words came from a place of empathy, that she truly respected the effort he put into remembering and honoring his kin. “And I have a feeling,” she added, more brightly, “that you’ll uncover more of your story when you least expect it."

Myyrin could sense his yearning for something as simple as a name—just one link to his family, to his origin. As he finished, she gave him a soft, encouraging look, sensing the courage it took to search for answers that time itself had nearly erased.

“You know, you’re wrong about not being of interest to historians. Quite the opposite, actually,” she said with a gentle smile. “With the borders open now, word will get around about the last known Crimson Oni—and trust me, that kind of thing catches the attention of the Akademiya in no time. I can tell you firsthand, there are plenty of scholars who’d be fascinated by the Crimson Oni.”

She paused, tapping a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Scholars in Vahumana and Haravatat would probably be the most eager to hear your story. They’re historians, linguists, and cultural experts. Now that Inazuma’s borders are open, word’s bound to spread—especially with the uniqueness of your lineage. And if there’s one thing I know about, it’s scholars.” She chuckled, recalling her own experiences in the Akademiya, where scholars of every field were constantly searching for new mysteries to solve, eager for something rare and meaningful to dissect, sometimes literally.

“Trust me, once they hear you’re the last known Crimson Oni, some of them would be tripping over themselves to learn everything about your culture, history, traditions. They’d want to know what kind of society the Crimson Oni had before their demise." She paused thoughtfully, envisioning the likely fervor with which some scholars would dive into such a rare and complex historical puzzle.

“And as for Amurta scholars,” she continued, raising an eyebrow in mock warning, “well, they’re the biologists. They’d be fascinated by your lineage from an anatomical and physiological perspective. Amurta scholars might ask about your strength, your abilities—how the Crimson Oni were different, physically, from other Oni."

A small chuckle escaped her as she thought of the more eccentric researchers she’d met during her time at the Akademiya. “But listen… a word of advice? Scholars can be weird—and pushy. They’re usually harmless, but they can get very annoying if they think they’ve found a topic worth studying. If you get a few dozen letters or visitors from Sumeru one day, that’ll be why. Just… be on your guard. You might find yourself overwhelmed by how persistent they can be.”

She glanced over at him, hoping he could see that she meant to reassure him as much as to prepare him. His story, the story of the Crimson Oni, deserved to be preserved and honored, not prodded and examined until it lost its meaning.

“Regardless, you have every right to know who your family was,” she continued, her voice softening. “And you’re not alone in your search. You’ve already left a mark on Inazuma just by being yourself. And maybe one day, you’ll find those names you’re looking for. Maybe even more.”

[toxin-trails]

(( Mod - I don't really post political stuff on here but to my American mods, muns, moots and followers -

))

[toxin-trails]

Reblog to let your mutuals know. . .

that they are appreciated. that they are important. that they are amazing. that they are creative. that they are loved.

No matter how long you take to reply, what mood you are in, how insecure you are feeling about your writing, or how active you are — your presence is still very much enjoyed. You never have to apologize or feel bad for taking a while with a reply, or not answering an ask right away. Life can get busy, energy can fluctuate, interest can shift, and emotions can change. You are human and these things do not make you a bad person/partner.

We write together because it is fun and enjoyable, not because it is expected of you to answer every little thing at the snap of fingers.

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin felt her eyebrow twitch slightly, a subtle crack in the carefully constructed facade she had maintained since their conversation began. Dammit, she thought, realizing that he had a knack for pushing her buttons. It was frustrating, yet oddly refreshing to encounter someone who didn’t easily back down.

She crossed her arms, a reflexive gesture of defiance, as she turned her gaze to the sea once more. The waves rolled in rhythm, the soft sound contrasting with the tension building between them. Why does he seem so unfazed? She wondered, feeling the weight of his scrutiny as he studied her closely, his playful demeanor making it difficult to gauge his true intentions.

His casual sips of Boba only added to the surreal nature of the encounter. How does he keep pulling those drinks out of nowhere? That small part of her was genuinely curious, but the more prominent concern was how effortlessly he shifted the conversation toward her purpose in Inazuma. “I’m in Inazuma because I was called here with a group of others to help curb the influx of invasive species from Sumeru,” she stated, trying to keep her tone even and steady, though the irritation lingered just below the surface. She had expected some skepticism.

I wonder if he knows just how bad it could get if they don’t act quickly, she mused internally. This was not just about the jellyfish she had been curious about; it was about preserving the delicate balance of life in Inazuma.

Then, when he mentioned that a friend of his was dealing with invasive species, her interest piqued immediately. Her eyes narrowed, narrowing down the possibilities as she thought of the few locals she had interacted with. Among all of them, only one had shown any true concern for the situation. Could it be?

“Is your friend Arataki Itto?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly as she leaned in a little closer, curiosity evident in her voice. She'd met Itto in an interesting way. He'd helped her from a sticky situation with some Kairagi and then he continued to help her with her research with the Balethunder, even helping her heal. This man.. or yokai, was Itto's friend? Huh... Surprise was evident in her eyes.

Myyrin felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards, slightly at Ayato's comment about her being "slightly crazy." Most people were either oblivious to her antics or far too quick to judge, but here he was—calm, amused, and undeniably sharp. “You know, it’s not crazy if you have a reason,” she replied, her tone lightening a bit despite herself. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, attempting to regain her composure.

“Not everyone would share your… lenient views on my experiments,” she replied, attempting to keep her tone light, though a hint of irritation seeped through. “It’s not that I’m trying to cause trouble; I’m merely testing the boundaries of what’s known and unknown.” Her gaze drifted back to the waves lapping gently at the shore, contemplating the aquatic life hidden beneath the surface. “I do find it fascinating how the toxins can vary so much from one species to another. If I can experiment and dissect the symptoms, I can concoct something useful.” She chuckled softly, her previous tension dissipating as she spoke about her work.

Myyrin felt a rush of heat creep into her cheeks as Ayato continued to dissect her reasoning with a keen insight that made her incredibly conscious of her every word and action. Goddamit, he is reading me like a book! It unnerved her how easily he seemed to peel back the layers of her intent. Was she really that transparent? The thought made her stomach churn slightly.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of the risks,” she replied, her tone polite yet curt, as she tried to reclaim some of her composure. No patronizing warnings or misguided attempts to protect me, she noted, grateful for that. “I’m equipped to handle it.” The conviction in her voice was genuine, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw through her facade.

When he mentioned that she had lied about being reckless, she mentally kicked herself. How did he figure that out? Who is this man? Her eyes narrowed slightly at him, though there was no true bite to her glare; it was more of a playful challenge. She cleared her throat, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation. “I’m an apothecary and an alchemist,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Observation, sampling, testing… that’s my field of work.” She allowed a hint of pride to slip into her tone, hoping it would deflect some of the scrutiny. After all, she was quite good at what she did, and the science behind it was something she had dedicated her life to understanding.

As the conversation shifted, she tilted her head slightly, trying to decipher his curiosity. “Are you asking why I’m here on the beach or why I’m in Inazuma?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly. She leaned a little closer, narrowing the gap between them, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Because if you’re curious about why I’m on the beach, well, it’s because there are jellyfish,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching upward in a playful smile. “But if you want to know why I’m in Inazuma, that’s a bit more complicated.”

She was in Inazuma to help with the recent influx of invasive species from Sumeru. Because of poachers, the country had now been infiltrated with non native species. And people like her, were called for aiding the experts in Inazuma. However, along with this quest, she'd gotten roped into reducing the effects of the Balethunder potion. How, well, that was a whole discussion in itself.

And then he had to go and say it—getting stung on purpose. Her cheeks flushed further, and she felt a stubborn determination rise within her. Well, yes, I did, but there was no way she was going to admit that to a stranger she had just met. “It’s not like I’m out here fishing for trouble, though,” she added, the undertone hinting at the truth. “But if someone else is going to get stung, it might as well be me, right?” She turned her gaze back to him, half-expecting him to respond with more amusement or insight into her motives.

[toxin-trails]

As Alhaitham spoke about the Tatarigami, Myyrin’s mind drifted to the pocket-sized notebooks she kept on her at all times. They were filled with hurried scrawls, precise drawings, and detailed accounts of her observations and experiments during her travels in Teyvat. She had filled pages with her findings on the interaction between Tatarigami energy and Electro, trying to capture every nuance of its effects in case it could lead to something helpful. It wasn’t often she had someone to discuss it with, let alone someone interested in the depth of her research.

Then, as his words registered, she blinked. Wait, wait, wait... did he just invite me to his place?

She did a double-take, feeling her thoughts reel as she processed it. Alhaitham, someone who was famously private—someone even she knew guarded his space—was inviting her to his home? “Um… your place?” she asked, raising a brow in disbelief. But seeing he was serious, she softened a bit. “If it’s not a bother, then sure. I think I’d actually prefer it to… well, this place,” she admitted, glancing around the room with mild disdain. Azar's departure. His presence still seemed to linger, leaving a heaviness she could never quite shake. The extent of his power harassment against her was something only Azar, herself and a few other sages knew.

With a sigh, she added, “Please. Lead the way.”

As they walked, he continued to explain his reasons for inviting Cyno to her presentation. She let out a small, amused laugh, catching herself quickly as she remembered her usual restrained posture in these situations. “Oh, I’ve heard a few of his jokes, mostly around Tighnari,” she said, half-grinning. “And I think ‘jokes’ is a bit of a stretch to call them. I never know whether to laugh or just… stare.”

She tried to focus on their surroundings, the path ahead, anything other than the unexpected wave of nerves washing over her from his straightforwardness. When he spoke of the merits of her work, it was even harder to keep her composure. Genuine compliments were rare—very rare, especially from someone in his position. Why is this so hard? I’ve worked hard for this, so why can’t I just accept it? What do I even say to that? She felt like a fish out of water, struggling to find the right words.

“Thank you… for saying that,” she murmured, feeling a warmth in her cheeks that she quickly masked by looking away. She shifted awkwardly, her mind scrambling for a response that didn’t make her sound like a blubbering fool. “I just… I’ve always felt that alchemy is about possibility." she finally managed.

Myyrin’s mind raced as she processed Haitham’s words. Everything seemed to be aligning in a way she never expected, like a gentle tide pulling her toward a shore she had long since abandoned hope of ever reaching. She was being heard, truly heard, and more importantly, she was being supported. The thought brought an unfamiliar warmth to her chest, an emotion she couldn’t quite name. It was so foreign to her that she almost felt it was too good to be true. Would it last? Or was this merely a fleeting moment of grace in a life marked by rejection? Would she ever truly become accustomed to this? The thought flickered through her mind, but she pushed it aside, unwilling to dwell on it.

“Yes, Tatarigami,” she began, forcing her focus back to the conversation. “It’s fascinating but complicated. Tatarigami isn’t affecting the Balethunder phenomenon directly; rather, it exacerbates it when the two energies react. You see, Tatarigami is essentially the curse that stems from Orobashi, the serpent god. I’ve observed that the Tatarigami energy can trigger reactions similar to the consequences that consecrated beasts experience when they consume fallen Archon remains.” As she spoke, her mind raced with the implications of her findings. The interplay between the two energies was not merely an academic curiosity—it could have real consequences for anyone caught in the midst. “When these two energies mix, the effects can be devastating.... The consequences ripple outward, impacting everything.”

As he spoke of Azar’s exile, a sound of disgust escaped her lips involuntarily. “I hope I never run into him again.” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The mere thought of encountering him again sent a shiver down her spine. She was done with that chapter of her life, and the idea of facing the very person who had made her struggle so profoundly was more than she could bear. He has no power over me anymore.

Her eyes widened as he casually mentioned Cyno’s presence at her presentation. She’d met the General Mahamatra two or three times now, thanks to Nari and Cyno’s close friendship. Each encounter had left her with a lingering sense of awe and intimidation; he was much different outside the rigid halls of the Akademiya. He was relaxed and sometimes she found it hard to appreciate his jokes. If it could be called that, she thought. The thought of him witnessing her work, of standing there in support, felt surreal.

As Haitham praised her efforts, her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, searching for the right words but finding none. What do I say to that? The compliment hung in the air, almost suffocating in its weight. She had never been one to receive such validation. Was it really that simple? To be acknowledged for her hard work without the shadow of skepticism? Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, struggling to articulate a response. She was used to skepticism, to being met with doubt at every turn. His faith in her work was unexpected, overwhelming, and for a moment, she felt paralyzed by the weight of it all. Why is he being so supportive? What’s his angle?

“I—thank you,” she finally managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt. “It means a lot, truly.” The sincerity behind her words surprised even her. She caught herself glancing around the office, as if seeking confirmation that she wasn’t dreaming. The tension in her shoulders eased ever so slightly.

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin observed Jien quietly, her gaze trailing to the intense way the other scholar focused on the machine’s rusted components, as though she were coaxing secrets from each hidden piece. She could see the spark of curiosity, the kind of passion for knowledge that went beyond mere academic requirement. It was a strange feeling—seeing another who shared that quiet fire, even if they differed in where they directed it. She made no move to interrupt, keeping her presence muted.

Myyrin gave a small nod as Jien expressed her thanks, a subtle warmth coming through her typically guarded demeanor. “It’s good to have a plan if you find yourself in need of supplies, herbs, or a guide,” she said, her tone light. “I’ll be around Vimara village the next few days, should you need anything.” She paused a moment, as if considering her words, then added, “Or if you simply want a second set of eyes on whatever this machine may have to say.” She left the offer hanging in the air, unassuming, aware that Jien preferred her solitude in her work but offering nonetheless.

As she adjusted her pack and prepared to take her leave, Myyrin scanned the area one last time, habitually vigilant for any sign of the remaining Withering or other hazards, though she was comforted by how alive the forest felt again after their efforts. “I’ll leave you to your research,” she said finally, offering a small, respectful bow of her head. “Safe travels, Jien. And may your work bring you the answers you seek.”

With that, she turned and stepped back into the greenery, her silhouette gradually fading among the rain-kissed foliage as she took the winding path back toward Vimara Village, her mind already drifting to her next task and to what she might uncover on the trails ahead.

Starter for @shards-of-the-lost

The rain poured relentlessly in the vibrant rainforest of Sumeru, the thick canopy above filtering the downpour into a gentle drizzle that dampened the rich, earthy scent of the undergrowth. Myyrin's keen eyes scanned the landscape, searching for the remaining withering zones that had plagued the region for too long. Her mind, however, was preoccupied with thoughts of the past—specifically, the cold disdain of scholars from the Akademiya. She shuddered at the memory of their mocking laughter and condescending remarks, all because of her inability to thrive in their rigid educational system. More so, because she was an Eremite, a savage from the desert in most of their eyes.

As she moved cautiously through the dense foliage, she spotted a figure in the distance—an unfamiliar woman with striking horns jutting elegantly from her head, scribbling notes on a parchment. The sight was jarring; Myyrin instinctively hesitated. Scholars had never treated her kindly, and the weight of her reputation as a dropout hung heavily on her shoulders.

Should I turn back? Or…

She hesitates, caught in a moment of indecision. The woman seems engrossed in her work, oblivious to Myyrin's presence. It would be so easy to slip away, to avoid the judgmental stares and the whispered comments that still haunt her.

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin could sense his yearning for something as simple as a name—just one link to his family, to his origin. As he finished, she gave him a soft, encouraging look, sensing the courage it took to search for answers that time itself had nearly erased.

“You know, you’re wrong about not being of interest to historians. Quite the opposite, actually,” she said with a gentle smile. “With the borders open now, word will get around about the last known Crimson Oni—and trust me, that kind of thing catches the attention of the Akademiya in no time. I can tell you firsthand, there are plenty of scholars who’d be fascinated by the Crimson Oni.”

She paused, tapping a finger against her chin thoughtfully. “Scholars in Vahumana and Haravatat would probably be the most eager to hear your story. They’re historians, linguists, and cultural experts. Now that Inazuma’s borders are open, word’s bound to spread—especially with the uniqueness of your lineage. And if there’s one thing I know about, it’s scholars.” She chuckled, recalling her own experiences in the Akademiya, where scholars of every field were constantly searching for new mysteries to solve, eager for something rare and meaningful to dissect, sometimes literally.

“Trust me, once they hear you’re the last known Crimson Oni, some of them would be tripping over themselves to learn everything about your culture, history, traditions. They’d want to know what kind of society the Crimson Oni had before their demise." She paused thoughtfully, envisioning the likely fervor with which some scholars would dive into such a rare and complex historical puzzle.

“And as for Amurta scholars,” she continued, raising an eyebrow in mock warning, “well, they’re the biologists. They’d be fascinated by your lineage from an anatomical and physiological perspective. Amurta scholars might ask about your strength, your abilities—how the Crimson Oni were different, physically, from other Oni."

A small chuckle escaped her as she thought of the more eccentric researchers she’d met during her time at the Akademiya. “But listen… a word of advice? Scholars can be weird—and pushy. They’re usually harmless, but they can get very annoying if they think they’ve found a topic worth studying. If you get a few dozen letters or visitors from Sumeru one day, that’ll be why. Just… be on your guard. You might find yourself overwhelmed by how persistent they can be.”

She glanced over at him, hoping he could see that she meant to reassure him as much as to prepare him. His story, the story of the Crimson Oni, deserved to be preserved and honored, not prodded and examined until it lost its meaning.

“Regardless, you have every right to know who your family was,” she continued, her voice softening. “And you’re not alone in your search. You’ve already left a mark on Inazuma just by being yourself. And maybe one day, you’ll find those names you’re looking for. Maybe even more.”

Myyrin listened intently as Itto shared his thoughts and experiences, absorbing every word. She could feel a connection between their stories, and though their situations were different, the underlying themes of loss and resilience remained. She couldn't help but reflect on her own past—the Akademiya had shunned her, but it was the Tanit who had truly shaped her fears. If they were still alive, she knew without a doubt she would have had a target on her back.

As Itto mentioned the ingredients in the soup, she made a mental note. “Sea grass and Naku Weed, huh? Sounds useful. I could definitely incorporate them into my experiments, especially if they help with Electro. Just like the glaze lilies or the Qingxin flowers from Liyue, those have their own unique properties in remedies.”

When Itto spoke about the history of the Crimson Oni and the headstones that marked their fallen, she felt a pang of empathy. It was sobering to think of all the lives lost, just like her own parents. She couldn’t recall their faces, just fleeting memories of warmth and safety that had long since faded. There were no photographs left for her to grasp onto, no tangible remnants of their existence. Perhaps if she searched the Akademiya, she might find a record or even her father’s photo, but she had never been allowed access to those archives before.

It didn’t matter much now, though. The details of her past were blurry, overshadowed by the horrific memories of that fateful day. She remembered hiding, heart pounding, and the screams that echoed around her like a haunting melody. When she finally emerged from her hiding spot, the blood-stained sands told a story that no words could capture.Yet, she kept her own past locked away for the moment. This conversation was not about her but about Itto and the weight he carried. She admired his strength in facing such a grim history, his determination to stand tall despite it all. “I can only imagine what that must be like, losing your entire family and knowing that history is slipping away,” she said softly.

She paused, wanting to lighten the mood. “And yet here you are, carrying on their legacy in your own way. You’re making a difference, and that counts for something. Maybe one day, there will be records of the Crimson Oni once again in the form of Arataki Itto, and his tales.”

[toxin-trails]

(( Will respond to all interactions and asks today. I feel slightly better today after the flu!

Apologies to keep y'all waiting.

)(

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin listened intently as Itto shared his thoughts and experiences, absorbing every word. She could feel a connection between their stories, and though their situations were different, the underlying themes of loss and resilience remained. She couldn't help but reflect on her own past—the Akademiya had shunned her, but it was the Tanit who had truly shaped her fears. If they were still alive, she knew without a doubt she would have had a target on her back.

As Itto mentioned the ingredients in the soup, she made a mental note. “Sea grass and Naku Weed, huh? Sounds useful. I could definitely incorporate them into my experiments, especially if they help with Electro. Just like the glaze lilies or the Qingxin flowers from Liyue, those have their own unique properties in remedies.”

When Itto spoke about the history of the Crimson Oni and the headstones that marked their fallen, she felt a pang of empathy. It was sobering to think of all the lives lost, just like her own parents. She couldn’t recall their faces, just fleeting memories of warmth and safety that had long since faded. There were no photographs left for her to grasp onto, no tangible remnants of their existence. Perhaps if she searched the Akademiya, she might find a record or even her father’s photo, but she had never been allowed access to those archives before.

It didn’t matter much now, though. The details of her past were blurry, overshadowed by the horrific memories of that fateful day. She remembered hiding, heart pounding, and the screams that echoed around her like a haunting melody. When she finally emerged from her hiding spot, the blood-stained sands told a story that no words could capture.Yet, she kept her own past locked away for the moment. This conversation was not about her but about Itto and the weight he carried. She admired his strength in facing such a grim history, his determination to stand tall despite it all. “I can only imagine what that must be like, losing your entire family and knowing that history is slipping away,” she said softly.

She paused, wanting to lighten the mood. “And yet here you are, carrying on their legacy in your own way. You’re making a difference, and that counts for something. Maybe one day, there will be records of the Crimson Oni once again in the form of Arataki Itto, and his tales.”

Myyrin smiled softly at Itto's words, a flicker of warmth sparking in her chest. “No way,” she replied with a slight chuckle, shaking her head. “I’d never let what they say affect how I see things. It hurts sometimes, sure, and it can get pretty lonely, but if I let them win, then I’d be giving them power over me. And I’m far too petty for that.” She grinned mischievously, the humor in her eyes reflecting a determination that ran deep.

“So, I’ll take my lonely corners and turn them into cozy little nooks of my own. If they want to underestimate me, let them. I’ll keep working, keep creating."

Curiosity sparked as she thought about the soup’s ingredients. “Speaking of surprises, what’s the local ingredient in your soup? Is it something I can preserve? Maybe by dehydration or freeze-drying? It’d be handy to have on hand for when I need to make it again, especially since I’ll be crafting that potion for Balethunder effects.” She tilted her head, genuinely interested, her mind already racing with ideas on how to incorporate his recipe into her own experiments. Did that imply that she was going to experiment with herself again? Yes, yes it did.

Her expression grew contemplative as she continued, “But I have to wonder… what if there was some foul play involved with the disappearance of your kind? If all records of the Crimson Oni were deliberately erased… that would be a huge undertaking, wouldn’t it? I mean, traces of any species or civilization are usually there in some form—relics, fossils, bones, even ruins or remnants of clothing. It’s like history has a way of leaving behind clues, no matter how much people might try to erase it.”

She paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the implications. “It just feels… intentional, doesn’t it? Like someone wanted to erase all evidence of your existence” She met his gaze, her expression shifting to one of curiosity mixed with a touch of concern. “I can’t help but wonder why they’d want to erase an entire species from history. It’s not just cruel; it feels deliberate. The past holds so much value, and to just wipe it away… it’s as if they want to control the narrative.”

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin’s mind raced as she processed Haitham’s words. Everything seemed to be aligning in a way she never expected, like a gentle tide pulling her toward a shore she had long since abandoned hope of ever reaching. She was being heard, truly heard, and more importantly, she was being supported. The thought brought an unfamiliar warmth to her chest, an emotion she couldn’t quite name. It was so foreign to her that she almost felt it was too good to be true. Would it last? Or was this merely a fleeting moment of grace in a life marked by rejection? Would she ever truly become accustomed to this? The thought flickered through her mind, but she pushed it aside, unwilling to dwell on it.

“Yes, Tatarigami,” she began, forcing her focus back to the conversation. “It’s fascinating but complicated. Tatarigami isn’t affecting the Balethunder phenomenon directly; rather, it exacerbates it when the two energies react. You see, Tatarigami is essentially the curse that stems from Orobashi, the serpent god. I’ve observed that the Tatarigami energy can trigger reactions similar to the consequences that consecrated beasts experience when they consume fallen Archon remains.” As she spoke, her mind raced with the implications of her findings. The interplay between the two energies was not merely an academic curiosity—it could have real consequences for anyone caught in the midst. “When these two energies mix, the effects can be devastating.... The consequences ripple outward, impacting everything.”

As he spoke of Azar’s exile, a sound of disgust escaped her lips involuntarily. “I hope I never run into him again.” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. The mere thought of encountering him again sent a shiver down her spine. She was done with that chapter of her life, and the idea of facing the very person who had made her struggle so profoundly was more than she could bear. He has no power over me anymore.

Her eyes widened as he casually mentioned Cyno’s presence at her presentation. She’d met the General Mahamatra two or three times now, thanks to Nari and Cyno’s close friendship. Each encounter had left her with a lingering sense of awe and intimidation; he was much different outside the rigid halls of the Akademiya. He was relaxed and sometimes she found it hard to appreciate his jokes. If it could be called that, she thought. The thought of him witnessing her work, of standing there in support, felt surreal.

As Haitham praised her efforts, her mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, searching for the right words but finding none. What do I say to that? The compliment hung in the air, almost suffocating in its weight. She had never been one to receive such validation. Was it really that simple? To be acknowledged for her hard work without the shadow of skepticism? Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, struggling to articulate a response. She was used to skepticism, to being met with doubt at every turn. His faith in her work was unexpected, overwhelming, and for a moment, she felt paralyzed by the weight of it all. Why is he being so supportive? What’s his angle?

“I—thank you,” she finally managed to say, her voice steadier than she felt. “It means a lot, truly.” The sincerity behind her words surprised even her. She caught herself glancing around the office, as if seeking confirmation that she wasn’t dreaming. The tension in her shoulders eased ever so slightly.

Myyrin felt a rush of unexpected relief wash over her as she listened to Haitham's response. He wasn’t brushing her off or treating her like some kind of failure, as she had half-expected. Instead, he was reading through her work with genuine interest. His calm demeanor helped ease some of the anxiety that had settled in her chest, and she found herself feeling a bit more composed.

“Thank you for that,” she said, her voice steadier now. “I’m glad you see potential in it.”

Taking a deep breath, she leaned in slightly, eager to share more about her research. “The Balethunder is no small matter; a single drop can leave a lasting mark on both the land and the people.” She could feel the excitement building in her voice. “I’ve actually collected samples of it, stored safely in a container.” She gestured to her bag, a small smile creeping onto her face at the thought of her work. “I had some help from a local Yokai who was incredibly kind and patient with me throughout the process. It was... a bit of an adventure.”

As Haitham mentioned her injuries, she waved a hand dismissively, trying to brush off any concern. “Oh, those? They’re not bad at all,” she lied with a forced smile. The marks of her injuries were still on her arm, albeit under her sleeve and gloves amongst the many experiments she conducted on herself. “I’ve handled it.” The dry chuckle that escaped her was tinged with irony. “If Azar could see how helpful the Akademiya is being to me now, especially with you as the Acting Grand Sage, I imagine he would burst a vein.”

Myyrin leaned back slightly, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her paper as she continued. “All I really need now is some space to finish my paper. But given all the mumbling and stares, I’m pretty sure I’ll have to do that outside the Akademiya.” She glanced out the window, contemplating the vibrant sights of Sumeru beyond the glass.

“I’m preparing to present this research, but I honestly don’t think anyone will take it seriously—except maybe a select few,” she added, a hint of frustration threading her voice. The stigma surrounding her would creep into their biases about her results. People still remember the failures, not the potential. And the Akademiya was especially more cautious of failures after Dottore. It was miracle that Azar had not exiled her to Aaru Village like the other scholars who had been influenced by corrupted knowledge. Myyrin never really did like the Akasha terminal or the way it was used and had long stopped using it since he had dropped out and began travelling.

There was a brief silence as she wrestled with her thoughts. It felt strange, sharing her work with someone who held such power over the Akademiya, and yet here she was, trying to convince herself that it mattered. “I’ve come too far to back down now, especially with this project.”

She looked directly at him, a flicker of sincerity in her gaze. “Thank you, Haitham. For being different from Azar, for actually considering what I’m trying to do.”

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin felt a rush of heat creep into her cheeks as Ayato continued to dissect her reasoning with a keen insight that made her incredibly conscious of her every word and action. Goddamit, he is reading me like a book! It unnerved her how easily he seemed to peel back the layers of her intent. Was she really that transparent? The thought made her stomach churn slightly.

“Yes, yes, I’m aware of the risks,” she replied, her tone polite yet curt, as she tried to reclaim some of her composure. No patronizing warnings or misguided attempts to protect me, she noted, grateful for that. “I’m equipped to handle it.” The conviction in her voice was genuine, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that he saw through her facade.

When he mentioned that she had lied about being reckless, she mentally kicked herself. How did he figure that out? Who is this man? Her eyes narrowed slightly at him, though there was no true bite to her glare; it was more of a playful challenge. She cleared her throat, trying to regain the upper hand in the conversation. “I’m an apothecary and an alchemist,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Observation, sampling, testing… that’s my field of work.” She allowed a hint of pride to slip into her tone, hoping it would deflect some of the scrutiny. After all, she was quite good at what she did, and the science behind it was something she had dedicated her life to understanding.

As the conversation shifted, she tilted her head slightly, trying to decipher his curiosity. “Are you asking why I’m here on the beach or why I’m in Inazuma?” she asked, her tone shifting slightly. She leaned a little closer, narrowing the gap between them, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes. “Because if you’re curious about why I’m on the beach, well, it’s because there are jellyfish,” she said, the corners of her lips twitching upward in a playful smile. “But if you want to know why I’m in Inazuma, that’s a bit more complicated.”

She was in Inazuma to help with the recent influx of invasive species from Sumeru. Because of poachers, the country had now been infiltrated with non native species. And people like her, were called for aiding the experts in Inazuma. However, along with this quest, she'd gotten roped into reducing the effects of the Balethunder potion. How, well, that was a whole discussion in itself.

And then he had to go and say it—getting stung on purpose. Her cheeks flushed further, and she felt a stubborn determination rise within her. Well, yes, I did, but there was no way she was going to admit that to a stranger she had just met. “It’s not like I’m out here fishing for trouble, though,” she added, the undertone hinting at the truth. “But if someone else is going to get stung, it might as well be me, right?” She turned her gaze back to him, half-expecting him to respond with more amusement or insight into her motives.

As Ayato spoke, Myyrin couldn’t help but be intrigued by the way he carried himself. You never know who or perhaps what you will find out here. His casual tone and the way he effortlessly materialized a cup of Boba made her eyes widen in surprise. Where did that come from? She wondered, barely keeping her thoughts from spilling out loud. The drink was there one moment and gone the next, vanishing like a fleeting thought.

Is he one of those yokai like Itto? She mused, glancing at him closely. He looked quite human, though—sharp features and those intriguing lavender eyes that seemed to pierce through the façade she wore.

“Interesting, huh?” she echoed, trying to regain her composure as she absently fiddled with the Hydro Vision strapped to her arm. She had to think of a response, something that wouldn’t sound ridiculous or overly earnest. Gods, what am I going to say?

Her mind raced as she deliberated over how to explain her antics without sounding completely unhinged. Saying she wanted to get stung by the jellyfish would probably earn her a confused look, or worse, have him think she was out of her mind. Maybe he’s not so easily rattled… But she could tell he was sharp, far sharper than most nobles.

“I thought the jellyfish looked beautiful,” she finally blurted out, feeling her cheeks warm slightly as she glanced back to the water where she had tossed it. “I mean, I haven’t seen any Inazuman species before, so I was just... curious. I wanted to see what they were like.” Her heart raced as she continued, a bit more confidence creeping into her voice. “And I guess I was also curious about their toxins.” She spoke in a detached tone. “It’s not every day you find creatures that can pack such a punch in such a delicate form.” Lies. She actively sought out for such creatures and phenomena.

Her eyes flitted back to him, gauging his reaction. Was that enough? Did I ramble too much? “I’m not trying to cause trouble or anything,” she added quickly, raising her hands defensively as if to soften her confession. “Just... exploring, you know? A bit of research in a land I’m still getting to know.”

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin smiled softly at Itto's words, a flicker of warmth sparking in her chest. “No way,” she replied with a slight chuckle, shaking her head. “I’d never let what they say affect how I see things. It hurts sometimes, sure, and it can get pretty lonely, but if I let them win, then I’d be giving them power over me. And I’m far too petty for that.” She grinned mischievously, the humor in her eyes reflecting a determination that ran deep.

“So, I’ll take my lonely corners and turn them into cozy little nooks of my own. If they want to underestimate me, let them. I’ll keep working, keep creating."

Curiosity sparked as she thought about the soup’s ingredients. “Speaking of surprises, what’s the local ingredient in your soup? Is it something I can preserve? Maybe by dehydration or freeze-drying? It’d be handy to have on hand for when I need to make it again, especially since I’ll be crafting that potion for Balethunder effects.” She tilted her head, genuinely interested, her mind already racing with ideas on how to incorporate his recipe into her own experiments. Did that imply that she was going to experiment with herself again? Yes, yes it did.

Her expression grew contemplative as she continued, “But I have to wonder… what if there was some foul play involved with the disappearance of your kind? If all records of the Crimson Oni were deliberately erased… that would be a huge undertaking, wouldn’t it? I mean, traces of any species or civilization are usually there in some form—relics, fossils, bones, even ruins or remnants of clothing. It’s like history has a way of leaving behind clues, no matter how much people might try to erase it.”

She paused, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the implications. “It just feels… intentional, doesn’t it? Like someone wanted to erase all evidence of your existence” She met his gaze, her expression shifting to one of curiosity mixed with a touch of concern. “I can’t help but wonder why they’d want to erase an entire species from history. It’s not just cruel; it feels deliberate. The past holds so much value, and to just wipe it away… it’s as if they want to control the narrative.”

Myyrin looked down, stirring the last bit of soup in her bowl as she considered his words. For as long as she could remember, she’d carried her burdens alone, her thoughts guarded and her past something of a heavy cloak she’d worn too long. But Itto’s openness, his easy acceptance of his own story, encouraged her to let down her guard, just a little.

“You’re right,” she said slowly, glancing up at him. “People with prejudices… they don’t change easily. I should know that by now.” She sighed, a soft, almost wistful sound. “In Sumeru, people value knowledge and academics so highly that anything or anyone outside that definition just… doesn’t belong. Alhaitham is known for being blunt, which makes him hard to read. He’s brilliant, of course, but he doesn’t play by their rules either. It’s odd, but I think that’s why he was given the position of Grand Scribe in the first place. Still, I’ve never spoken to him much—I always wondered how he’d react if he knew about my… reputation.”

She chuckled lightly, as if brushing off the thought. “But I suppose that’s a worry for another time.”

Taking another slow sip of the broth, she smiled, feeling the warmth linger as she considered his offer. “I’d like to learn your recipe. I think it would come in handy. I still need to craft and test the potion for reducing the effects of Balethunder, but this soup is perfect for the aftereffects. Plus…” she hesitated, her gaze softening as she looked at Itto, “I don’t think I ever learned to cook for comfort like this. For me, it was always just… fuel. You know?”

She set her bowl down, her shoulders relaxing as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. “I’ve had to be my own guide, my own protector for so long, I think I forgot what it was like to share even these small things with someone. Talking, food, memories. I never had a place to belong in the Akademiya—just this shadowed corner where people spoke in whispers about me. And outside of Tighnari, I didn’t really have friends, either. But this? It’s nice.”

Her gaze fell on his shoulder, noticing the faded scar there. She could see how much he’d gone through, both as an Oni and as an outsider. And it gave her courage. “Maybe, in some strange way, we are lucky. We know how to stand alone. And maybe that’s what makes finding someone to share things with mean even more.”

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin managed a polite nod as Jien introduced herself as a member of the Kshahrewar Darshan, though inwardly she suppressed a groan. Kshahrewar… just her luck. Of all the disciplines in the Akademiya, that one had been her undoing more than once. The intricate designs, the theoretical constructs—while she could appreciate the incredible achievements of its scholars, those concepts had never quite clicked for her. Her thoughts drifted to how much more comfortable she was with Spantamad’s studies, or the hands-on learning she’d experienced with Amurta topics.

But she kept her expression neutral, masking the frustration her past with the Kshahrewar electives dredged up, nodding along with Jien’s musings about the connection between the Withering and the ancient machine. “Interesting theory,” she offered, though she kept her tone polite and didn’t encourage further explanation. “Sometimes things… can stay buried for a reason, though I have to admit, I’m more inclined toward organic phenomena than mechanical.”

She allowed herself a small sigh of relief as the conversation turned back to something she knew well—Sumeru’s villages and the familiar roads leading in and out of them. “Thank you for the suggestion,” she replied with a hint of a smile, “but I know this area well. I’m Sumerian myself, actually, and I supply the villages nearby whenever I’m in the region. Though the comforts of a dry bed are welcome, I usually end up resting with the locals whenever I pass through,” she explained, her tone softening just a little at the thought of the welcoming villagers and their simple but generous hospitality.

“It’s the kind of work I enjoy,” she added, realizing the topic had eased some of the lingering tension in her. “The people are kind, and they don’t ask too many questions.” She let her fingers toy with the hilt of her blade as she glanced back at the now-cleared area, her gaze trailing to the ancient machine as she mulled over Jien’s earlier comment. “But thank you, truly, for your input,” she finished, feeling somewhat more at ease around this scholar than she would have thought.

Looking back at Jien, she gave her a nod of respect. “So, Jien YueXia,” she said, her tone gentler than before, “if you need an escort to the village for any supplies or extra hands, feel free to call on me.”

Starter for @shards-of-the-lost

The rain poured relentlessly in the vibrant rainforest of Sumeru, the thick canopy above filtering the downpour into a gentle drizzle that dampened the rich, earthy scent of the undergrowth. Myyrin's keen eyes scanned the landscape, searching for the remaining withering zones that had plagued the region for too long. Her mind, however, was preoccupied with thoughts of the past—specifically, the cold disdain of scholars from the Akademiya. She shuddered at the memory of their mocking laughter and condescending remarks, all because of her inability to thrive in their rigid educational system. More so, because she was an Eremite, a savage from the desert in most of their eyes.

As she moved cautiously through the dense foliage, she spotted a figure in the distance—an unfamiliar woman with striking horns jutting elegantly from her head, scribbling notes on a parchment. The sight was jarring; Myyrin instinctively hesitated. Scholars had never treated her kindly, and the weight of her reputation as a dropout hung heavily on her shoulders.

Should I turn back? Or…

She hesitates, caught in a moment of indecision. The woman seems engrossed in her work, oblivious to Myyrin's presence. It would be so easy to slip away, to avoid the judgmental stares and the whispered comments that still haunt her.

[toxin-trails]

Myyrin looked down, stirring the last bit of soup in her bowl as she considered his words. For as long as she could remember, she’d carried her burdens alone, her thoughts guarded and her past something of a heavy cloak she’d worn too long. But Itto’s openness, his easy acceptance of his own story, encouraged her to let down her guard, just a little.

“You’re right,” she said slowly, glancing up at him. “People with prejudices… they don’t change easily. I should know that by now.” She sighed, a soft, almost wistful sound. “In Sumeru, people value knowledge and academics so highly that anything or anyone outside that definition just… doesn’t belong. Alhaitham is known for being blunt, which makes him hard to read. He’s brilliant, of course, but he doesn’t play by their rules either. It’s odd, but I think that’s why he was given the position of Grand Scribe in the first place. Still, I’ve never spoken to him much—I always wondered how he’d react if he knew about my… reputation.”

She chuckled lightly, as if brushing off the thought. “But I suppose that’s a worry for another time.”

Taking another slow sip of the broth, she smiled, feeling the warmth linger as she considered his offer. “I’d like to learn your recipe. I think it would come in handy. I still need to craft and test the potion for reducing the effects of Balethunder, but this soup is perfect for the aftereffects. Plus…” she hesitated, her gaze softening as she looked at Itto, “I don’t think I ever learned to cook for comfort like this. For me, it was always just… fuel. You know?”

She set her bowl down, her shoulders relaxing as she allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. “I’ve had to be my own guide, my own protector for so long, I think I forgot what it was like to share even these small things with someone. Talking, food, memories. I never had a place to belong in the Akademiya—just this shadowed corner where people spoke in whispers about me. And outside of Tighnari, I didn’t really have friends, either. But this? It’s nice.”

Her gaze fell on his shoulder, noticing the faded scar there. She could see how much he’d gone through, both as an Oni and as an outsider. And it gave her courage. “Maybe, in some strange way, we are lucky. We know how to stand alone. And maybe that’s what makes finding someone to share things with mean even more.”

Myyrin nodded, her expression somber as she considered Itto's words. “I could say the same about you. You don’t deserve to be treated harshly either. You didn’t choose to be an Oni; you were born that way, just like I didn’t choose to be… well, whatever I am.” She paused, feeling the weight of her words. “We shouldn’t be judged for our bloodlines or our origins.”

She took another sip of the delicious soup, letting the warmth fill her. “Aaru Village is one of the few safe havens in the desert. It's where I found some peace when I needed it most. The Tanit, though? They’re much further away from there. They lived—or, well, used to live—in a canyon just below a statue of seven. Now? I can only assume it’s all collecting sand after their massacre.” She felt a chill run down her spine.

When Itto mentioned Tighnari and Baizhu, she nodded in agreement. “You’re right about Tighnari; he’s a good guy. And Baizhu? Yes, he’s the doctor in Liyue.” She hesitated for a moment, a little embarrassment creeping in. “As for Alhaitham… we hardly ever spoke. We had a few electives together, where I did miserably, aside from the alchemy-related subjects, of course.” She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “So I doubt I’m even on his radar. He’s the Grand Scribe of the Akademiya, after all, which means he processes all research applications.” She was not aware of his promotion by the looks of it.

She glanced away, her expression contemplative. “Sumeru is... complicated. There’s so much emphasis on academic success and knowledge that it can feel suffocating. If you don’t meet their standards, you’re just another failure in their eyes. It’s easy to get lost in that pressure.” Myyrin sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. “But I guess it’s good to know that some of us understand what it’s like to feel out of place. Maybe that’s the first step toward acceptance?”

She looked at Itto, her eyes brightening slightly. “I’m really glad we’re having this conversation. It’s nice to know I’m not alone in this. And thank you for the soup. It’s more than just a meal; it feels like a step toward healing in more ways than one.”