[ OPEN ] sunrise, sunset

[aceslow]

Who ⬤ Kim Kitsuragi & YOU
What ⬤ March substories (night parade & babysitting bad trips) & more!
When ⬤ Throughout March
Where ⬤ Throughout Jigoku-cho
Content Warnings ⬤ Drug use for the applicable substory, otherwise n/a


a. high definition.

[ When Kim notices people exiting the drug testing location looking decidedly worse for wear, his first instinct is to simply ignore them. They knew what they signed up for, did so willingly, and evidently did so without having the contingency of planning for a friend to accompany them and keep them safe afterwards. He stands off to the side for a frankly unconsciable amount of time, reasoning that some good samaritan will choose to be helpful. It doesn't have to be him. He's done enough of babysitting people on unadvisable drug trips for an entire lifetime, and he's not keen on repeating the experience.

Except it quickly becomes clear that nobody else is going to step in, even when he's given one or two passer-bys a hopeful glance. Whether it's the blindness, hallucinations, or general revelry that influences people to make terrible decisions, participants in the study are going to wind up being a danger to themselves or others, Kim decides, and reluctantly approaches one of them. ]

Khm. Excuse me. Are you all right?

[ He knows the answer to that question. It's no, because agreeing to be the guinea pig for unknown drugs as administered by some bizarre rabbit creatures is not something you do when you're all right, but he makes the executive decision to err on the side of politeness anyway. ]

b. night parade.

i. decorating.

[ Assisting with the parade seems like an easy way of currying favour with his superiors and to at least put on the pretense of helping out, so Kim gladly accepts the task of hanging up the decorations. He'll be around to help hold ladders, move boxes from point A to point B, or toss a bottle of water to one of his fellow assistants who looks as though they've failed to hydrate through any of their hard labour.

He does, however, become more invested in it than he specifically means to as he stands back, hands tucked neatly behind him, and scrutinizes one of the stalls' decorations, in a very interesting colour scheme. ]

No. I'm sorry, this needs to come down. These colours are... [ There is a polite way of putting this. ] ...very ugly.

ii. eyes needed.

[ Kim, having been deemed a very responsible looking man (probably because he's one of the older people here, he thinks with a sigh), has been tasked with sorting the fireworks and putting them in appropriate storage. Some need to be stored at certain temperatures to maintain the brilliance of their colours, and others need to be put under lock and key in a nearby storage unit because in the wrong hands, they have the capacity to do an awful lot of damage.

Which is fine. Kim is more than capable of handling this. Only he's supposed to be reading the criminally tiny fine print along the sides of the tubes. He holds them away from his face as far as possible in a desperate bid to translate it, but to no avail. He could rely on guesswork, but...

Reluctantly, he turns to one of his fellows, roped into helping with the parade as well. ] Can you make this out?

[ He's secretly hoping the answer is no, which is a possibility. It would be less embarrassing that way. ]
c. sutoku district & housing.

[ Otherwise, Kim can be found wandering around what he's been told is his new home, pausing occasionally to look at the huge, flashy arcades, the blindingly bright department stores, or perhaps dwelling a little too long on one of the vehicles parked along the side of the road. Shopping isn't the most exciting thing, perhaps, but Kim has plenty he needs to get with his first paycheck: groceries (largely frozen and canned foods, specialty-made for the consummate bachelor), a first-aid kit, cigarettes and toiletries, instant coffee, and a pitstop where he inspects a truly tragic looking pot of mint planted in ruinously dry soil.

By the end of the evening, he can be found on the balcony of the long line of depressing apartments that all of the newcomers have been put into, staring out at the night sky with a cigarette dangling from his fingers and a convenience store bag filled with premade food hanging off the crook of his elbow. He's willing to share, if interest is shown -- a cigarette for the adults, or a an extra onigiri for the kids. If he's going to eat a depressing late-night dinner standing out here, he may as well have some company. ]

d. wildcard.

[ want something else? I'd love to make a starter for you! just hit me up at my ooc comment here and we'll figure something out. ]

Comments

a, high definition ayyy!

[pathofsacrifice]

[ Signing up to test drugs seemed like a somewhat reasonable thing to do. He used to test his own drugs out on himself without being completely certain what the effects would be. If there is a call to arms, he believed it would be fine to join in. The betterment of the city is preferred over any selfishness that he could feel.

Is this perhaps some sense of responsibility or guilt that he has? Maybe. Probably. Yes.

Yet he stumbles through the streets. He lifts his head up as he twists it around, hearing and knowing. It's a familiar call. Someone comes up to him; he turns slightly towards them. His eyes widen before re-focusing; he remembers this man. They were in the same clan together. ]

Ah, khayaala. [ He calls to him; his voice is heavy with an unknown emotion. He calls him "brother" in his language, because if they are in the same clan, that is what they are. His chest aches and he tips his head slightly. ] Can you hear it?

The city calls. It tells me to go somewhere.

[ Artemy makes a vague gesture down one of the streets. ]

I did not think another would accept me, but it does... for good or ill, it accepts me.

ayyyy!!!

[aceslow]

[ Ah, Kim thinks to himself, immediately regretting his inclination to get involved. He's found another one who's convinced that the city is speaking to him. There's no doubt in Kim's mind that whatever drugs those strange creatures had the stranger try, they've got him on the good stuff. In a manner of speaking. Kim wouldn't consider it good by any stretch of the imagination, but he has an above-average attachment to remaining in control of all of his faculties. ]

I can hear you, certainly, [ he says, tone level and reassuring even as he wonders if he ought to be offended by the unknown word the man calls him. ] You can tell me all about where the city wants you to go in a moment. I'd like to take stock of what that drug's done to you first.

[ He lifts a hand, as though to reach out to Artemy, but doesn't touch him yet. ]

Is that all right?

[ Kim has a long history of getting punched by people who are, colloquially speaking, tripping balls, and has since learned that immediately manhandling drugged up strangers is a good way of getting punched. Not that the man seems particularly aggressive at the moment. On the contrary, talks of being accepted by another world, of another city, reeks of a certain sense of euphoria. ]

[pathofsacrifice]

Of course, brother.

[ He dips his chin down in a slow and lazy manner. Blinking his eyes rapidly after, it seems that slight movement of his head was enough to disorient a little. ]

It feels like twyrine. [ Artemy pauses. ] A drug back home. It dulls all senses which makes it feel like you can hear farther. But that is only if you have not been welcomed by the town. [ Stumbling through his explanation, he attempts to explain his feelings. Somehow, he doesn't gesture much with his hands; he merely looks around the landscape of the street they are on. ]

You understand?

[aceslow]

Being welcomed by the town? No, I'm afraid not. I don't believe I have that experience. How fortunate for you that you feel so quickly welcomed. [ He means it honestly -- both in that he doesn't feel that soul-deep connection with the city that some people (largely drug addicts, in his opinion) feel, and that he has never been particularly welcome in the city that he loves. He won't be going into that with a stranger, however. ] The drug? I think I may, yes. It sounds as though they put you on some sort of depressant.

[ Kim gently grabs Artemy's chin, making him stay still for a moment so he can check the state of his pupils and his slow, lazy gaze, then releases him. He takes off one of his gloves and presses his fingers to the pulse point on Artemy's wrist to see if anything seems amiss. ]

Do you feel very hot, or very cold? Any pain in your chest, or perhaps your head? Are you having any difficulties breathing?

[ Almost by habit, Kim whips out his notebook and scrawls a few notes, illegible to most even on a good day; with Artemy looking as though he may feel relaxed enough to simply keel over at any minute, there's no chance of him looking them over. Not that there's anything particularly incriminating written there. Merely a catalogue of the stranger's symptoms, with a note that he was one of the victims (or perhaps beneficiaries) of the odd drug testing exercise the less prudent among lost souls have been convinced to do. ]

b, i. decorating

[everblooms]

[ A gaudy flash of pink is draped over the front of the stall, delicately handled by her hand. She places it just so, pats it as if it were living and breathing. Then, she admits to herself, wordlessly, that it is a hideous color.

It's burning her eyes to look at it too long, so Aerith quickly turns her attention to the rest of the box of decorations atop the stall. She'd placed it there for easy access, making sure to keep someone down below to help her keep everything nice and even. The majority of the fabric and decorations are still in the little wicker basket, but many are spilling over the edge in her attempt to make sense of the palette. She hasn't quite stuck to the plan, but in her defense, maybe it's not too bad now!

This particular stall is advertising wagashi, delicate little desserts with the barest hint of sweetness carved into pristine shapes. She'd been delighted when she saw them. A delicacy to her, the wares are beautiful. In a cruel twist of irony, the stall gives no such impression.

Aerith's hand grabs hold of pennant, a horrendously vibrant green with pops of neon red that makes her blink when she looks at it for more than a second. A headache is certainly building within her skull, louder than anything else she's felt today. Grimacing, she moves to hang it up like she's been instructed, when a voice interrupts her. It's "very ugly", comes the declaration.

She looks from the man, dressed in an equally snazzy jacket, to the stall. Aerith is stunned, if only because someone finally said it. It really is ugly. There is truly nothing hung up on this stall, or in that box, that could save this display. It's stomach churning in it's ugliness. Her silent surprise breaks as she lets out of a giggle, head shaking from side to side. ]

You know what? You read my mind. [ From her position atop the ladder, she holds on tight, and places one fist to her hip. She twists a little to look down at him, and a mischievous smirk splashes across her lips. Neon lights are at her back, and dying sunlight hiding their full vibrancy for now. ]

And since you brought it up, you'll be helping me get some new decorations.

[ She's beaming too wide in a toothy grin, as if she won't take no for an answer. Admittedly, it's how she got the ladder; a construction worker had been persuaded by her 'pretty please's and firm assertations that she needed it. ]

C'mon, I can't carry it all myself. [ She descends the ladder, surprisingly quick for someone in boots with a chunky heels. ]

[aceslow]

I'm glad you agree. I didn't mean to offend, but these really ought to be burned.

[ He wasn't relishing the idea of having an argument over colour schemes of all things, but Kim has certain aesthetic sensibilities he abides by, and watching this horrible thing go up has been something of a blow to his pride. He doesn't want his name associated with anything like that.

He holds the ladder while Aerith descends, glancing down at those chunky heels (they're quite stylish, he considers, and not unlike something he'd choose to wear himself) and holds out one hand to help her down, should she choose to accept it. Once she's down, he's happy enough to follow her at a relatively sedate pace, hands tucked firmly behind his back, looking for the world like a man who'd been born and raised in these streets. ]

The shop owners will thank us when we're done. [ Or they'll cuss them out. Kim can't say he really cares. This is more about himself than it is for them. And for his new partner-in-crime, who must share his sensibilities; most of his fellow newcomers couldn't care less about doing the job well. Speaking of which: ] What is your name?

[everblooms]

None taken! It's not my stall. We can burn them when we get back.

[ As the ladder steadies, she looks below to catch sight of leather gloves holding it in place, and fills in the rest. On her way down, one of those hands is offered to her. She stares it for a moment, then studies his expression. It's hard to read strangers, and certainly harder yet to do it without magical psychic abilities, but she gets the feeling this isn't done to belittle her.

She takes the hand, and finishes the descent by hopping off by the third lowest step. ] There we go. [ With the soles of her Kim Kitsuragi Approved ^(TM) boots on the ground, she is free to turn to him. A grin is in place, bright as any star in the night sky. ] Thank you!

[ Dusting herself off, Aerith takes stock of the area. Her brown hair is tousled from the wind, and she rans a hand through her bangs to better see the streets. Most of it is unfamiliar to her eye, but she can only see an opportunity to find out more about the city.

She takes to leading as naturally as a mother duck. She knows of a spot to visit, and inquire at, but getting there might be a little bit of a detour. Perhaps he'll know some place else— and he speaks, interrupting her thoughts. A noise leaves her, the sort of gasp someone makes when they realize they have to go back inside and find their keys. Aerith's suddenly caught off-guard, turning around to walk backwards. She feels like a spindle top, knocked over. Elmyra taught her better than this! ]

Aerith. I'm Aerith. [ Raising one of her thin brows, she gives him an impish little smirk. ] They might thank us, or they'll come to love our aesthetic sense. Either way, they'll just have to get used to it!

[aceslow]

[ Of all things, it's the woman's chipperness that takes Kim aback. Perhaps it's just a symptom of living in Revachol for too long; there's a part of him that's immediately suspicious of anyone who's that friendly, but he quickly shakes it off. He's just spent too much time on the job, whether that's with the cranky old men he calls his colleagues or the people who are never particularly eager to see a police officer stroll down in their vicinity.

Besides, she's young. This sort of energy comes more easily before you've hit a certain age. ] Nice to meet you, Aerith. I'm -- [ the Lieutenant dies on his tongue ] -- Kim Kitsuragi.

[ He glances around the street, the rush of people (and creatures Kim would not ordinarily classify as people) sweeping by them, the bright neon lights, the bustling storefronts. It's not what he imagined Hell would look like, though he never imagined it at all. He glances back at Aerith. ]

We're doing it for their own good. I was told of a repository of decorations at our disposal somewhere. [ He removes his communicator from his jacket pocket, jabbing at it with his pointer finger to get to the map. It's terrible. He never got the hang of radiocomputers back home, and now they expect him to master using one he can carry in his pocket. ] I'm not sure where. It's my first week here, I'm afraid.

[ His eyes flick back up at her, wondering just how long she's been here as well. He hasn't spoken to many people yet, but it seems that he was among a relatively large influx of unlucky newcomers. ]

eyes needed

[laughitoff]

[said fellow Sutoku is gaunt and too pale, like he's been convalescing from a long illness, perhaps, but he's been handling the lifting well. the setup work's been kind of soothing for him, actually. it's novel to be in a crowd without being recognized and immediately called out as some kind of criminal, and it doesn't require him to use his brain much, for once. so his smile's easy as he cranes over to squint at the tube.]

Ah..."Caution: flammable. Keep away from ignition sources and avoid overhead obstructions. For outdoor use only, on...concrete? Asphalt?...or other hard level surfaces." Ah, I've no idea what those are, so I hope you do.

[is his eyesight good? yes. is he having a bit of culture shock, falling out of ancient China into a relatively modern city? unfortunately also yes.]

[aceslow]

Hm. I could have guessed that much. Thank you, [ Kim says politely, frowning down at the offending firework and eventually deciding it's not one of the truly dangerous ones that needs to be kept under lock and key. He slides it in with the others, to be kept in dry, cool, dark conditions. With all of the hubbub about there being ostensible security concerns, he's taking the storage of fireworks very seriously; he's pretty sure delinquents like to fire them at each other for fun at the best of times, even when they're not going to start some sort of turf war. ]

They're fireworks. People shoot them into the air, and they burst into explosions of bright colours. Very pretty to look at -- but very dangerous in the wrong hands. [ Once he's finished loading them into the box, he looks back up at his helper, noting his ill appearance. It doesn't look like he ought to be doing any heavy lifting at all. And Kim really does resist the urge to fuss, but...

He grabs a chilled bottle of water that's been stored underneath one of the set-up tables for workers and volunteers and passes it over to him. ]

Here. You should drink.

[laughitoff]

[he seems startled by the casual kindness, maybe a little more tense and wary than he should be (it's just a water bottle, he saw clearly where it came from, a stranger mutually helping out doesn't have any reason to not be nice...?)

after a moment he does reach out and take it, though, flashing Kim a smile that doesn't seem entirely forced, before unscrewing the cap and taking a long drink]

--ah, you're right, I did need that. Thank you.

[and, hurrying on as if to gloss over that brief awkwardness]

I know what fireworks are, but all this, um, packaging on everything is pretty unfamiliar to me. These aren't as bad as the food stores, though.

b i (when in doubt, go bi)

[diesuki]

[Finally, Dazai has decided to behave(ish) and do some proper work! ... Except of course he's doing his absolute worst on purpose. Listen, they wanted him to decorate! They never mentioned any demands as to how. Doing his absolute worst keeps things interesting, making for good motivation to keep at it.]

You think so?

[Tilting his head, Dazai regards his work again, the absolute picture of incomprehension. Could this truly be considered ugly?! (Yes. Yes, it absolutely can.)]

I feel like it's a nice and vibrant combination, myself.

[aceslow]

I'll give you vibrant. It's certainly that. [ Kim squints up at it, and at the man who's putting it up, who likely has no personal investment in how this looks and who really doesn't need someone heckling him. Kim is objectively aware of this. It doesn't mean that he's able to restrain himself from intervening on this crime against aesthetics, however. ]

But vibrant is not necessarily a positive adjective. [ He squints up at it, making his vision blur enough to get an impression of just the blobs of colours and shapes. No, he decides. This guy must be messing with him. There's no person alive who could consider this pleasing to look at. He taps his foot. ] You can't tell me you really believe that olive goes with neon pink.

[diesuki]

It's true that it's an outright offense to human eyes.

[He admits it so easily..! But he still makes no effort to take down the decorations, instead stepping away to regard anew the results after a job well(?) done.]

But there are more than human eyes around here, aren't there?

We shouldn't discriminate.

[Dazai is a terrible person, and he should feel terrible. But he doesn't.

Not that he's going to protest if Kim wants to take everything down. Dazai did his share, as far as he's concerned; he played nice so he could curry favor with the bosses. What happens afterwards is everyone else's problem.]

eyes

[allweather]

[No one has, technically, asked Reim to hover around looking very serious with his little leather notebook, occasionally giving volunteers Looks and scribbling something down in his tidy little handwriting. Technically, he's been asked to count crates, mostly because he comes with his own Thing To Write Tally Marks On, but that's so bottom-rung and he's declared himself the manager of this fireworks area.

Like, privately. Inside. No one has to know that.

So, as he passes by with his notebook in hand, he pauses to peer at this particular dangerous tube. Hmm!]

'Do not hold in hand — Place on ground — Light fuse - get away!' [hmm.] Well, there is something to be said for fair warning.

[womp..... he just Gazes at this firework for a moment before flipping a page to a table he has drawn by hand, featuring various fireworks label indicators like 'green dots - 3' and 'red stripe - vert' and where each of them is supposed to go. He begins to write; get away!...]

[aceslow]

Nothing about how to store them...? Typical. [ He can only do so much when told to store them as is specifically appropriate, but at least he can use enough common sense to keep them somewhere cool, dark, and dry. He can also use enough common sense to ignore the little voice at the back of his mind (a long-neglected voice of mischief and fun, Kim's inner child having been properly squandered since he was a child) telling him that he ought to take a couple for himself on the basis of Fireworks Fun, Explosions Exciting. He regretfully puts the fireworks into their proper storage and, with a clean sweep of his pocketknife, seals the box with a couple layers of duct tape. ]

Thank you anyway. [ Reim has not escaped his notice while he's been working at this, however, bustling about and noting things down. It's the sort of thing that generally puts people on edge. It would probably put Kim on edge too if he wasn't so used to being the one holding the notebook. His eyes flick between the notebook and Reim's bespectaled face. ] Are you one of the workers in charge here?

[ In a purely managerial context, he means. He knows full well who's really in charge here, and they're nobody he intends to start a casual conversation with. ]

[allweather]

[Reim hums while he continues to dutifully jot down his notes, a yes-that-is-typical-and-wouldn't-you-know?-not-the-first-time-today kind of hum; very nuanced. It's mostly conveyed in the accompanying face he makes, exasperated even as he is, on some level, pleased to have more notes to take. Perhaps he will add to his list of Criticisms...

Anyway. His pen stills for just a beat, then,] I may as well be.

[Which is not a yes, so he isn't technically lying and no one actually in charge here can get mad at him for it.]

If you ask me, they could handle delineation of duties more appropriately... Not a soul asked me what my skills are when I arrived.

[Frankly, the way of handling the Lost Souls seems to just be, like - "uhh yeah go ahead over there," but who's keeping track. (Reim.)]

I've been keeping an eye open for difficulties.

b. decorating!

[worldbent]

[It was moreso curiosity than a sense of goodwill that had brought Matoba strolling down the parade-prep avenue, but once he's there, he can't help a childlike sense of wonder at the massive floats and colorful decorations of the festival. Spending most of his time in lush forests and mountainsides far from this kind of urban environment, the neon of the city was different enough, to say nothing of how it looked when trussed up for a celebration.]

[Really, he's probably more in the way of everyone doing actual work as he strolls around between the different worksites, but it's one in particular that causes him to stop in his tracks, and not entirely of his own will.]

[He tries to look at the stall. Really, he does- except that his one good eye just keeps trying to squint shut as he stares at it.] Aah. This is a problem...

[Luckily, he hears a familiar voice nearby! Still shaking his head out from the disorientation, Matoba turns his head away from the trainwreck of a stall and towards the voice, trying to make out the face. Too bad his eye is seeing spots now.] ...Don't tell me, you're responsible for this?

[aceslow]

Unfortunately.

[ Kim lets out an absolutely withering sigh that is probably a disproportionate reaction to dislikes the colour scheme he's been tasked with putting up, but in his defense, it has been a very, very long couple of weeks. ]

This is what the owners said they wanted, but I'm beginning to think they may be colour-blind. [ He glances over at the source of the voice, recognizing the fellow he'd spoken to in the waiting room. The fact that he deals in what Kim would ordinarily declare as nonsense aside, he had been relatively helpful and forthcoming, moreso than the people Kim usually runs into. It's not terrible, to run into him again. ]

I don't suppose there are any supra-natural reasons why someone would prefer this eyesore.

[ Maybe ayakishi just love horrible design choices. It would make as much sense as everything else. ]

[worldbent]

Hum. I'm really going to have to request that it's changed, [Matoba sighs out, as if he had any kind of authority to declare such a thing. He tries to look back at it again, but thinks better of it as soon as his eye starts trying to close again and turns so that the offending stall is to his back.] I've never specifically heard of ayakashi being colorblind, but now that you mention it, I have certainly come across ones that were simply blind. Typically, they rely their sense of smell, instead... Perhaps beasts such as bakeneko, as well.

[He glances back to see if the offending owners were around. Matoba had absolutely no qualms about bullying some ayakashi whose only offense was having an ugly street stall- not that Kim had asked for it, but he thinks he's being helpful.]

Besides causing a menace like usual? I don't really think so, [He replies cheerfully, eye still tensely squinted at Kim as it recovers from staring back at the sun.] If you need to convince them, perhaps I may be of service?

c. sutoku housing

[fuben]

( None of this is ideal, really, but it's better than he might have expected. Still, with a meagre check and...humble housing, Nanami finds the learning curve to be just a little bit steeper than he's prepared for. He likes to think of himself as adaptable, far more so than his stiff demeanor might suggest, but there are only so many hits to an ego that a man can take before, eventually, he needs to sit down and find a way to carry the burden of his new reality. It is of only moderate consolation, then, that he'd managed to find something somewhat resembling some of his favorite comfort foods at the conbini down the street from his assigned Sutoku housing complex.

He'll make do tonight with a 7-eleven sandwich and a cheap can of Kirin until he can stock his fridge properly. It's difficult to say whether it's worsened or bettered by the view from the balcony: effervescent crowds of monsters (and some humans) below, and the methodical flash of a gradient of neon across the way, advertising a haphazard tower of a variety of shops and entertainment hubs from dollar stores to electronics repairs. It's home, but not home at all, as he settles precariously into the folding patio armchair he'd spent the bulk of his first paycheck on—particularly so when the scent of tobacco wafts his way. He'd never been more than a social smoker, and only in the office because it was easier than the circular offer-and-refusal conversations about it, but the sense of normalcy it invokes is powerful enough for him to pause at his first bite. )

Do you think they sell black-out curtains anywhere, or is this considered natural lighting?

( His delivery is deadpan enough that it might seem like sarcasm. It isn't, though Nanami is already mostly resigned to learning a new set of inconveniences to manage in his afterlife. )

[aceslow]

[ Kim glances over at his new companion on the balcony and nods at him in greeting. While his one cigarette is usually had in solitude, he welcomes the company tonight; everything has been so surreal that it's good to know that at least he's not the only one trying to get his bearings. Or the only one who, in absence of the mental space to even boil frozen pierogis on the shitty hotplate he purchased, has been living solely off convenience store food. He's a little envious of that beer, though; it hadn't occurred to him to purchase one, and while he's indulging in vices, it would go down a treat right about now.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette and blows chestnut-scented smoke into the crisp night air of Jigoku-cho, looking thoughtfully out at the sea of towering buildings and neon lights, as different from home as it could be. ]

They sell them. But good luck affording them. I'd sooner buy a change of clothing anyway. [ The sign flashes and whirls again, switching to an audaciously bright advertisement of some girl group consistently solely of women half Kim's age. He manages to keep from grimacing. ] Do they really keep these on all night?

c

[psionicmolotov]

[ The district is large enough that even people who might be passingly familiar with each other for slightly embarrassing reasons (as much as Kimmuriel finds anything truly embarrassing) won't run into each other very often.

But here he is. In something resembling conceding, he does move away from Kim to give him space when he realizes he's there, which happens to benefit him as well.

But at this point the drow does have some investment in plant shopping and so here he is, staring at the plants on display. There are not many of them, and many of them are in the same tragic state the mint is. ]

....why bother selling them like this at all? [ He pinches the bridge of his nose as he looks at these tiny, sorry sights. ]

[aceslow]

Probably because they know that people without any money and the desire to have something green in their living spaces don't have any other option.

[ He lifts up one of the plastic pots. It's cheap, costing no more than what he would reasonably spend on a coffee and a bagel. He tuts at it. Poor thing. He feels bad for it. ]

I'm almost impressed. It takes real skill to kill mint.

[ He raises a brow at Kimmuriel and says, ] Good of you to come talk to me properly this time.

[ It's more a joke than anything else. Breaking the ice. He won't hold it against him if Kimmuriel doesn't. ]

[psionicmolotov]

[ Looks like this human is at least somewhat forgiving, then. He has no particular reason to hold any kind of grudge against Kim's initial reaction to him, either; it's only logical.

An amused noise escapes him at the comment. ]

It would be foolish to try the same approach when it was already proven to be a mistake. I am not so fixated. [ At least, not with this. ]

That makes sense, [ he says begrudgingly, after a moment. ] I would have liked to get one of these for another, but that must wait. [ Budgeting is necessary but also: very annoying. He's accepting of the fact that if he wants to get an actual non-dying plant that his partner can actually use, though, he'll have to pay more. ]