multiflora .

If the cycrane could roll its eyes, it would, but instead it just twists its head back and forth in response to Navia's observation.

"OBVIOUSLY," it squawks with all the same disdain as the first time. "THEY TELL ME THAT I AM TOO STUBBORN! AND THAT I REFUSE TO LISTEN AND I AM TOO RIGID WITH MY WAYS."

An accurate description, Gallagher thinks, but he nods along with perfectly controlled neutrality. This is the opening he's been looking for, and starts to speak, but the cycrane once again cuts him off:

"THEY ARE THE ONES WHO ARE STUBBORN!" It flaps its wings vehemently, nearly knocking itself off its perch again. "THEY REFUSE TO LISTEN TO ME WHEN I SAY THERE IS NOTHING WRONG!"

"Well, you're here, so let's make the most of our time, eh?" Gallagher interjects carefully, and the cycrane snaps its head in his direction. For a split second, it appears to gather itself up for another tirade, and if it were a real bird, its feathers might have risen to make it seem larger. Gallagher raises one of his hands to try to stop it before it can start.

"Easy now. Just hear me out. You're not the one with the problem, yeah?"

"OBVIOUSLY!!"

"But these colleagues of yours have plenty. So let's try to figure out how to handle 'em. I think it'll make you happier in the end."

The cycrane appears to calm down a little. At the very least, it lowers its wings.

"Why do you think they don't listen to you?"

"BECAUSE THEY THINK THEY ARE RIGHT."

"And you don't believe you're stubborn?"

"NO."

Gallagher offers a sympathetic smile. "If you keep tellin' 'em that you're not, they're just gonna keep thinkin' they're right. How can you show them that you're not stubborn?"

"...my friend here is right," her voice eases through the silence with all the grace of a first step upon a rickety bridge. Archons forbid she undo all that Gallagher has so impressively accomplished. "If they're wrong-- which they very clearly are-- then you should have no issue proving it to them in one way or another, right? And then they'll realize it was you who was right all along!"

And her honest-to-goodness smile, intended to drive the point home, ends up sitting on her face long enough to wilt in the silence that follows. Even after an encouraging nod of her head, the cycrane says nothing else. Navia clears her throat.

"Ah, the time! We'll have to hear how that goes for your colleagues next time, okay?"

The bird nods as much as its mechanical joints will allow, which isn't much, and gives the action a sort of artificial absence. The motors in its wings begin to thrum and then it's off, retreating back the way it came at a fraction of the speed.

"You're not so bad at this yourself," her attention turns to Gallagher, then, chin inclined. "When someone is so buried in their own perspective like that... That's a real talent, y'know."

One that she's quite impressed by, in fact.

"it's no wonder you're getting hounded with oversight from your board: anemia cannot be cured by mint tea. constipation cannot be cured with an even stranger concoction that lacks the necessary basic fiber and copious fluids. and a stubborn medical professional cannot change his habits that have led to no resolution, save for a licensing board member revoking a practitioner's permissions." another file opens, and jiaoqiu scans through its contents quickly before finding something that does finally make some sense. "... here. you used a tea brewed with something called mountain henbane to treat a patient with severe arthritis. and you note their condition dramatically improving after serveral weeks. what is this herb? where did you find it?"

the professor looks at him, incredulous for a moment --- "you insult me and my practice and want to know more about what herbs I use in my treatments? hmph! the audacity, and you call yourself someone in medicine..." the professor mutters more to himself and starts to turn to head out of the room full of disorganized files. "stop asking ridiculous questions and finish the work quickly! I don't have long until that kid from the board comes back."

"Good idea."

The feet of her chair scrape the floor as Navia rises. A finger beneath her chin as she scans stacks and stacks and endless stacks of files, as though one of them might identify itself in some way as more worth her while than another. Which is futile, of course, and so she steps towards the tallest one and raises herself up on her toes to pluck from the very top.

And promptly sets it atop a neighboring stack after a few moments of reading.

"Surely there's more than one case like that, considering... how many there are." Navia reaches for another, flips it open in her palm, pauses, and then nods her head. "Like this! Here, it says the patient complained of insomnia and has reported earlier and earlier sleep times with increased dosages of..."

She looks to her companion then. They both know what it'll be, but she says it anyway: "...tea."

( Ah, is this the 'fanservice' that people so speak of? )

"I can see that," Robin remarks, recalling how the port she had arrived in was bustling with tourists, "my own home planet is also quite the attraction, and I've met a number of interesting personalities from it. There is no shortage of stories or songs you learn from strangers. It's wonderful; both hearing from travelers and being the traveler yourself."

She continues on with the minutiae of threading beads and othersuch into a bracelet-esque shape. Fontaine had put her in the mind of Penacony—they shared their brightness, their eccentricities. An energy system running on the feelings of people certainly felt like the novel creation of some bright-eyed Dreamweaver. And a woman like Navia feels as though she would have been born within the limitless expanse of a Dream, or at the very least, been fed her fill of it.

"...Though, what initially drew me to Fontaine was work," Robin says, glancing down at the length of beaded string she now has. "A few friends of mine suggested that I perform here, so I came here to find out how I could make it happen. Ah, but I couldn't resist the sights. And the stores!" she laughs again, that same bright and twinkling sound, "I ended up becoming a tourist, anyway."

Robin sets down what she has, and searches once more for a charm to add to her current collection. Though, with how full her string is beginning to get, there doesn't seem to be much space left. Still, Navia's excellent find tells her to keep going.

"Heh!" she grins as she looks at the misshapen bird form, "You certainly could. I'm partial to a halo myself, but I'm sure we can find something..."

She digs through the selection of trinkets, searching for a particular shape—round with pointed ears. After a moment's search, she triumphantly pulls her hand out of the box, a flat cat-like bead held between her fingers, cut from an ocean-smoothed stone.

She watches, eager to see what the other woman determines to be on par with Navia's misshapen goose. One can learn quite a lot from another's taste in silly knickknacks.

And she is certainly not disappointed, either.

"Ah, perfect! What an unlikely duo, a goose and a cat." A gloved finger taps at her chin, thoughtful, before she grins. "And I know exactly what to make of them!"

With this, her hands busy themselves once more.

"I'm not much of one for the theater anymore myself, but I know a guy or two I could get you in touch with." Beads fall into line on another length of wire as she speaks, one after another without missing a beat for her ramble. "I can't say we've seen talent from another planet up on that stage, so it'll be quite the occasion. I'll have to reserve a box."

One knot tied, she moves for another bit of wire.

"You speak of planets and performing on one that isn't your home so casually, like you do it all of the time. I can't imagine how much travel that must take, and the expenses." A shake of her head. "So you're certainly quite well renowned, then? I can't say I'm familiar, but... Well, not much from beyond the sky has really reached us here until recently."

At this, Navia laughs. Her fingers pinch the ends of another knot and, with a moment's inspection and a decisive hum, she presents her works for Robin's inspection.

Two bracelets, the goose at the center of one and the cat at the other. They're charming little things, cluttered with shells and rocks and beads that do not quite match.

inspired by the infamous "i want the k" meme by deactivated tumblr user tastcful. send 🎲 to generate a kiss! potential suggestive/nsf.w themes may appear

A kiss on the cheek

A kiss on the nose

A kiss on the forehead

A kiss to the top of the head

A firm kiss

A gentle peck

A romantic kiss

A platonic kiss

A kiss to the eyelid

A kiss along the jawline

A kiss to the neck

A kiss along the collar bone

A kiss on the chest

A kiss to the stomach

A kiss along the hips

A kiss in the rain

An upside-down "Spider-Man" kiss

A kiss while laughing

A kiss underwater

A rough kiss

WILDCARD! Dealer's choice :)

A french kiss/kiss with tongue

A kiss influenced by alcohol/other substances

A sleepy kiss

A kiss that's an accident

A kiss while one or both parties are crying

A kiss in greeting

A kiss in parting

A kiss to the back of the hand

A kiss to the palm of the hand

A kiss to the inner thigh

A kiss while someone watches

A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

A kiss after a bite

A kiss against a wall

A kiss to the shoulder

A kiss to the back of the neck

A kiss while one party is carried

A tentative kiss

An impulsive kiss

A kiss out of spite

A clumsy kiss

The news had filtered across the continent to reach Mondstadt slowly, in the way that a story might have, distant and harmless and quaint and distinctly for other people. It was a naivety of his people that he could not be proud of, but one that he accepted with the scoff and sigh of a disappointed parent.

It wasn't to be helped, he supposed. If he was to ensure that they were protected, safe in their homes and carefree, then should be free of care to the things that might potentially bring them ruin. This was the burden that he bore not merely willingly, but happily.

The journey to Inazuma was a long but careful one, gathering the most valuable information one could get: rumors, piecemeal and exaggerated at their heart but when fitted together around their rough edges Diluc found that he could begin to form a more complete picture the closer he got to the source.

He felt it, too. Not quite overwhelming, and perhaps worse in its subtlety, but enough that he knew that something was undeniably off with every kilometer of water crossed until he set foot onto Inazuman soil. If he glanced about, there was nothing explicitly wrong, visually, barring the vague haze that seemed to surround everything, as though it vibrated in time with the dull, soft drone of cicadas.

Or perhaps they weren't cicadas.

Diluc tugged at his glove, frowning gently into the setting sun. He wasn't sure which was the preferable option there, whether the ambient sound drowning out his focus was a persistent feature of the locale or if it was the menace to be confronted – somehow that made it more threatening, the uncertainty.

Navia Caspar would also not consider most things in her life ordinary.

It's a trek to make by sea, but she makes it. Blame her bleeding heart, or perhaps her insatiable curiosity-- it matters not either way. The shores of Inazuma welcome the young president with a cold, sinking feeling that goes straight through her.

With a wave and a reassuring smile, she dismisses her attendants. She's been doing that much more, lately. An odd instinct, a haunting awareness of her responsibility for any danger they follow her into. Today, she determines that she will be fine without backup-- it's just an investigation, and she never goes anywhere unarmed.

And so she picks her way towards what she recognizes as the only other human figure for as far as her naked eye can see. Gunbrella hung on her arm and either hand perched on her hip, Navia opens her mouth to introduce herself and promptly meets his gaze.

"Didn't mean to catch you off guard," she smiles, apologetic, the corners of which only falter a moment when he addresses the world around them. "...I do."

The weight in the air that hangs like a promise of something terrible, she's familiar. She remembers it in churning sea-water and unfulfilled prophecies-- her skin still prickles at the thought, remembers the closeness of inevitablity.

But then, how inevitable is anything, really?

they might have some luck with a few smaller blasts, well-placed blasts, but ...

i can't, he mouth slowly, then points at his vision before waving an arm in a grand gesture before them. all he gets for it is his vision lighting up briefly then vaporization the moment he tries to summon pyro. a pained twist of a smile—his vision is basically useless here.

With renowned determination ( for what kind of an example would she be if she didn't stop at nothing? ) she swims after him. Eyes follow his hand, then widen, and she gives him a nod. Her gloved palm feels around splintered wood, searches for a good fracture, and pauses.

Stay back, she mouths over her shoulder.

And only once she's certain that he has heeded her warning does Navia shut her eyes. Seldom does she utilize her vision without her finger on a trigger, but crystal bursts forward from her palm early, leaving a stream of bubbles where it cuts through water and cracks against the ship's shattered hull.

With his chin between gloved fingers, the gears of his mind whir in stasis until Navia speaks again.

"The bell itself?" Teal eyes follow the steep path up to it. "For most people, it wouldn't be accessible."

But Albedo has been a child of Mondstadt for a generous handful of years, and in that time he does recall hearing of a great treasure all the way up the steeple.

Atop the cathedral. The side crags of a waterfall. A ring of Anemo slimes. Nested within the land of wind and freedom was many a golden egg that existed beyond any man-made scavenger hunt. He supposed that if nothing else, they might happen upon something.

With a brief beckoning gesture, Albedo slinks off to another side of the cathedral. He unfurls a gloved palm in front of him, observes the golden light that gathers, and in a motion as simple as a toss, the light casts forth and calls a blossom into being. Its glistening petals spread flat across stone pavement.

Almost, because it takes the mere motion of her partner's hand to replace any semblance of that thought with excitement. Ocean-eyes glitter with the eager mischief of a child handed her very first clockwork meka, and it is well deserved.

"Aha! How very handy."

Gloved fingers raise her skirts on either side, the toe of her boot trying one powder-blue petal with unabashed interest. Safe, he assures her, though such concerns would hardly damper her interest. A decisive hum and Navia steps upon it. A grin to its operator and an affectionate pat to her gunbrella.

"Heights are no problem at all, don't worry. Now, take it away!"

The way up is rather straightforward and-- as promised-- quite safe. She comes to a stop just beneath one of the bell tower's many arches, and steps from petaled platform to stone ledge as though the gap between them is but a puddle in the street. A hop down, and a good few moments of scrounging around, then a good few moments more... An odd book, so dust covered she cannot make out its title, a few odd mushrooms between stone crevices, and a bird's nest.

Full of woefully white eggs.