Welcome to Gaia! ::

“If ingested in large enough quantities? Though I suppose anything could be considered lethal at that point.”

A gently raised brow for Yuuris shock, and Reeds smile seemed like something liable to stay. Like a rusty hinge that’d been given some long needed WD-40. He liked this subject, liked — even the barest hint of interest for all that it was the thing he’d poured years of his life into. What were degrees worth when parsed against the needs of many?

Especially in something so niche?

What good were the nuances of herbology - of the life death and chemical distillery of plants - to the negaverse? To destiny city?

Better to teach the up and coming.

How this brief encounter felt like a culmination of that - Kama asked questions, and he wanted to give him all the answers he had at hand. To look fond for his memory of the first burgeoning Venus flytrap he’d ever grown — how versions of such things existed in the rift, how he loved their tenacity. Feral and lively. Youma - yes - but they too were as beautiful as they were deadly. A necessity to the circle of life. On earth, beneath it.

“I do indeed keep things that have some, bite, to them - to keep out unwanted bugs. I’ve — some drosera, sundew, a few Titian’s sin? Though it’s more the acid they produce than the snap that you’d have to worry about. I do try and keep the more spiny pests out of the garden I actively work in. Lest someone touch it by accident…” he shuddered at the thought of hogweed making its way into his eden and overrunning all his hard work until it was ruin.

“Not that I haven’t been working on some more menacing pet projects, but I keep those things in iolanthes garden in the rift.” Much like the magical properties turned poison he laced he once laced his blades with, until the poisonous effects seemed to become pet and parcel coating embedded in the very steel of his serrated trowels.

For all his chatting on — he’d almost not noticed Yuuris nerves. Gently patted the thin mans shoulder and nudged him towards his covered patio with a convenient seat-swing, red cushions and white lattice overlain with more honeysuckle vines that seemed to crawl the side of the house and concrete without a care. Bursting with orange sweet flowers.

Reed considered the question — at length — took a seat and invited Yuuri to do the same with a passive little wave.

“Yuuri…you needn’t thank me. It’s, quite literally my pleasure.” Sighed in green and out sincerity while he looked Yuuri over - slight - soft - trying so hard to be agreeable for him. Reed appreciated that to no end. “I assure you. What you’ve got is so safe they sell in floral departments at grocery stores. It’s a pretty thing. Produces bright orange hues. A flaming sword, it’s perfect for you.”

“Now…aside from tools and batteries. Would you like anything to drink? Sometimes it all seems less daunting when one sits among the roses and literally smells them…You could probably spot a variety of butterflies if you tried. They quite like it here too.” Was Reed stalling for time? For company? Maybe, he wasn’t sure about anything — except that he wanted Yuuri to look less like he was ready to leap from his own skin if Reed overwhelmed him with one more detail.

"Of course." it wasn't a mind or a matter. Reed almost felt guilty for keeping Yuuri longer, greedy to entertain. The weather was peaceful, the sun's filtering rays cut warm through the changing seasons cold where it flit between leaves, and awnings.

Reed left Yuuri for a moment, for two, made his way through the sliding glass door, left unlocked from the inside. No reason to latch or bar it, except when he and Sonia were home at night. Only then.

And there was pink lemonade in the fridge, laden with ice. Full of fresh grapefruit slices, cut from a neighbors tree that'd overgrown into his own yard. Mint leaves lingered in it today, and sometimes? Sonia liked it with basil, and he'd make it that way - would add more fruits - like a tropical mojito punch, only minus the alcohol.

Yuuri received a pastel blue glass, Reed's was green. An old wrought iron table painted white with tiny suns got pulled close enough to set them upon if needed. "Here...it's lemonade" the idea of small talk flew out the window in favor of silence, sipped softly over notes of sweet and sour. "I hope you don't mind it pink, or slightly minty."

“I’d like nothing more..Whenever you want? It’s here. Myself, the garden….”

Reed was surprised, perplexed, no one — no one had ever - *ever* - shown an interest. Not just to come sit — and Sonia had shown some flair for gardening, for practical reasons. Had given him meaningful gifts. Their beginnings were strained and tumultuous, they rarely ever did things quite like this, and he hated to ask or to bother her when she had a whole life full of things to be busy with.

“…I wish I’d met you ten years ago.” non sequitur he was surprised to have said at all, let alone aloud. He covered it with more silence, hid behind his glass and prayed the quiet would save him. Yuuri was a good person, a kindness, that was all he’d seen from every Senshi he’d met on their side. He was pleased to find it in one of the few remaining eternals — like a rare breed. Too pure to have what made them special wrung out of them by life.

Reed wished… deeply….that he’d tried making friends years ago. Sharing himself with others seemed ever so less terrifying now than it ever had before, the not caring helped. Just like the caring in very specific and new ways? It was an exhausting conundrum, but he was glad for it.

“..that is…you’re welcome, Yuuri.” he tucked the thank you he wished to offer away. Smiled instead, something soft and genuine, just a few degrees warmer than the air around them.