to be of use. elijah relates, a weathered hand extended to take the trowel. crumbs of soil trip off the steel curve like a tumbling falinks.[break][break]

"nothing wrong with it." elijah snorts. his forearms are strained with swathes of flattened dirt. "means you're actually working."[break][break]

he pulls a small cloth from his pocket. the fabric is rough enough to steal away any grime, but soft enough for the skin to plead for more.[break][break]

"here." an exchange is attempted, the cloth offered but anchored by his fingers. "you know i'm a year younger than you. what's with calling me sir?"[break][break]

elijah realizes he had never asked why.

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"]

soren Malak [break]
mission[break]
your writing is so precise and gorgeous hello!!!

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-eldegoss"]

elijah grumbles. a vein appears on his head as his blood reaches a warm simmer.

"there's issue of adapting too quickly. moving too quick. too carelessly." the apothecary retorts, a slight snarl to his timbre. "people leap headfirst into things they don't understand, and think they're invincible. just look at bryan delarosa. man thinks he's god."

he sprays his plants damp. ones with many branches, leaves that overlay ontop of other leaves like ornate fans. his victreebel's vines travel across the floor like old rivers.

"no. i just take care of them. with my old methods."

jayden cross

☉

rocket's expansive submarine base is parked in sootopolis' bay today. the courtyard ceiling is opened, vast glass panes allowing hoenn's sunlight to seep through their algae-dotted shapes. the north wing's courtyard is lit with natural lighting for the first time in a little while.[break][break]

while other rockets stroll about, munching on cheesy rowlet pizzas and combee waffles, elijah is at work with soren Malak.[break][break]

his knees are nestled against the cold soil of the courtyard garden. berries are in need of harvest. plants in need of spritzing. his eldegoss floats about, spiraling in the air as it bathes in submarine sun.[break][break]

"bet you never thought you'd be doing gardenwork in a submarine, yea? as a member of team rocket." elijah snorts, he gestures to a garden hand trowel stabbed into the earth. "pass me that, soren."[break][break]

a beat.[break][break]

"by the way, you got dirt on your face."

[break][break]

[attr="class","ooc"]

soren Malak [break]
mission

[attr="class","pkspr pkmn-eldegoss"]

and so, the topic is turned over in lavender.

although elijah has no ailment of his own—at least that is what he believes—he finds his palate yearning for a taste of tea as well.

"crystablooms are," elijah says, grabbing a squirt bottle of water, "as beautiful as they are terrifying. appearing out of nowhere like that? can we trust them? are they healthy for our ecosystem?"

elijah says.

"dunno the answer. feels like we're either fucking with the world too much or the world is fucking with us."

jayden cross

☉

the apothecary does not pry. does not answer. he does not want to resurrect a ghost in a room already humid with trauma.

"yeah? what happened?"

elijah says- and cuts his breath short.

"don't need to tell me if it's gonna fuck you up. here." he grabs jayden's wrist, palm and fingers rough to the touch.

with his small bottle, he dabs lavender scent on the man's wrists. just a drop or two.

jayden cross

☉