"for the last time, i'm not going to attend your shitty movie ni—" elijah opens the door, the wooden frame as stiff as his brow. "oh. it's you."

his shoulders fall into relaxed slopes. pulling the door open, he allows "kosuke" in. but the entrance is still narrow, as if to allow elijah the time to shut it should a pest try to sneak out from behind.

"can't sleep again?" the door is slammed shut. locked.

in elijah's quarters, plants in hydroponic pots fill every shelf, every corner, dispensing their earthy scent.

marcel maeda

elijah's expression works well enough as marcel's reflection. the look he flashes him betrays the dark circles, the tired color of his skin. he crosses his arms like wooden planks.

"i'm not doing anything important." elijah rolls his eyes. "anything for the old guard." he hums and searches for his lavender plants.

in a pot somewhere, his parasect sleeps.

"know why you can't sleep? nightmares? anxiety?" elijah lists lazily. "blue light from clearing the notifications of that stupid rocket group chat at night?"

marcel maeda

elijah carefully shoves a lavender pot to the side. from the dark recess of his counter, he pulls out a heavy, canned jar with a cork lid. inside, dried, green leaves float in a sweet sunflora seed oil.

"rough." elijah remarks. he shakes the heavy container and the leaves float across its sides like rolled up starfish. "when did this start?"

his victreebel removes itself from elijah's bathroom, having sensed business. elijah extends the jar out without looking, and the pokemon takes it with its vines. in the back, the victreebel strains the infusion for him.

"was this before you mysteriously disappeared or after?" he raises a brow, voice unchanged even for a small line of dusty humor.

marcel maeda

"lavender infusion. fill this," elijah groans, reaching over to drag a spherical diffuser out from a cubby. it's in the shape of a drooling gloom. a hole is carved into where the flower head should be, "with water. add a few drops. press the button and voila. aromatherapy. yay."

the button rests where the droplet of drool is the thickest. with closed eyes and parted lips, the device looks like a decapitated gloom heaving its last breath.

"it's cute. my favourite diffuser." elijah says flatly as he hands it over to marcel.

his victreebel returns with a small bucket of strained liquid. elijah fetches an empty drop bottle from a shelf and begins to fill it, and the soft scent of purple tickles the nose.

"if this doesn't work, i can just punch you out."

marcel maeda

"the punching? it's a transferable skill." elijah almost laughs, but he swallows air to stifle it. the glass pipette clinks pleasantly on the edges of the bottle before it's screwed on tight.

marcel's rummaging elicits a scrunching of elijah's features. but they relax as he shakes his head, realizing what his company is doing.

"you think i'm going to let you pay?" elijah barks. "actually, i have something for you instead. take this please." he offers the filled bottle, the infusion swirling with its sweet scent inside.

elijah pulls out a pokeball from a cupboard and extends it.

"here."

marcel maeda

he had concluded experimentation on it with circe crowley awhile ago. elijah dares not release it often, unable to stomach its sight. something so unnatural, so synthetic yet breathing, raises every hair on his spine.

"maybe both." elijah says. "it's that thing we found in the basement of that dusty ass museum."

he sniffs the lavender air.

"its helmet is chunked. subjected it to tests." elijah says. "if it sees me, it'll probably kill me, so i relinquish responsibility of it to you."

marcel maeda

"then i can give you a second life as a tree or something." elijah says— half joking.

hemp bags, heavy with soil, wait ominously in the shadows of his room. elijah wonders if simple lavender would enough to cut through insomnia and fear. perhaps, the gift is a mistake.

still, elijah would rather relinquish it for his own comforts. the passing of an ancient curse.

"it's still subservient to humans. treat it like a dog," elijah says, "sit doggy sit. just like that."

marcel maeda