workshopofchalk

[workshopofchalk]

"Transmutation? Interesting, but not uncalled for. My expertise lies in a more... specialized form."

A power he recognized as one not to be freely shared. Especially with one who seemed so... much. Anaxagoras likely would not, should not be trusted with the Art of Khemia. More than the average man shouldn't be, anyhow.

"I will take care to remember the name, at any rate."

Albedo shakes his head, placing the clover on the table.

"Alright, now to see if it actually resonates with..."

The Dendro Slime hops to it, and, on cue, the clover bursts to overtake the table in a massive burst of them, rooting into the wooden desk.

"...Dendro."

Well, that proved his theory, at least.

"Need to clear the station."

He moves the Slimes off the table, before swiping his sword over it, cleaving the new growths off, quickly gathering the pieces of flora.

"Are there any Pyro Slimes still unclaimed? Could use one for disposing of the excess materials produced in the experiments."

After a pause, and remembering he said he wasn't used to Slimes, Albedo elaborates.

"The orange and red ones."

Beyond just his spectral state, how can you be in an alchemical experiment in Mondstadt, or hell, anywhere in Teyvat and never seen, or heard of a Slime...

And he still used planet, which was not a standard phrase for something like this.

Every instinct in him told him that this was not right.

"Actually... let me try something, after we are done here."

He looks to Anaxagoras, looking to the monocular spirit looking over his shoulder, a glisten in Albedo's own gaze.

"Something that could get you over the issue you currently face."

The Vital Vitriol

[workshopofchalk]

"It should be easy for you to-"

...Albedo blinks once, then twice. Today kept going from weird to weirder...

This man looked out of place - in more ways than just the translucent blue hues that constructed him. Though those would look interesting to paint...

He looked like if one misspoke around him, they would end up being left for dead... or wishing they had been left that way.

Fortunately, despite everything, Albedo was good at obeying orders.

He had done so for centuries, even if he was somewhat rusty.

Though the man's name was a mouthful, and the stipulation on interruptions implied a heavy ego... he could comply.

"I had expected another alchemist partaking to be looking over my shoulder. I apologize, Anaxagoras."

The name escapes his artificial lips for the first time, rough as he tries to mimic the pronunciation. The accent was not one he had heard before, so trying to figure out how to say the name properly without sounding like a poor mimic was not easy.

"This is not my usual alchemical work - I usually prefer doing more complex work, but... I was called to for my expertise, and working with... simpler pieces is a nice break from my previous work."

He stands up, moving to grab a Hydro slime, and places it on his station.

"Though if you're an alchemical expert, this should be simple for you to do, or guide me through, if physical contact is an impossibility."

What he meant by 'his planet', Albedo didn't quite know, but what could he care. The accent could imply a mistranslated word, or... anything, really.

"I had never noticed previously how Geo Slimes have small plants, brimming with Dendro energy, atop them. Theoretically, if I could stimulate their growth, either through a Dendro Slime proper, or a Hydro Slime to cause a blooming effect. Hydro is a backup, as I would rather avoid just a simple formation of crystals..."

He places a hand on his table, looking to the Geo slime, plucking one of the small pieces of flora from its stony helm.

"What say you, Anaxagoras?"

It felt like using any pronouns would be against Anaxagoras's orders...

The Vital Vitriol

[workshopofchalk]

"..."

He was used to being called into Mondstadt's center for alchemical callings - it was his job, after all. And he was very good at it. Plus, he always found it somewhat interesting how they interacted with one another, when in a space such as an alchemical workshop, or just a simple research station, such as his own.

This was not what he anticipated for his work, however.

Heaps upon heaps of Slimes, piled as high as reasonable, each being pulled from and experimented with by aspiring alchemists and everyday folks alike, trying to utilize the latent elemental powers within to make something more.

...He could already see small explosive accidents taking place in the back tables.

No matter. This was not his normal - but that was also because it was a step... far more likely to prove inconsequential for his goals.

He is given his own table - at least he gets that luxury, compared to the others sharing it - and sets up some of his own tools of the trade.

"..."

Eyes trail him - as per usual when out and about in Mondstadt. No matter. It was to be expected.

A Geo Slime is quickly grabbed and placed onto his desk, and he begins to think - there was not much to them, really - elemental energy condensed into a blob-like form. They were simple forms, but... artificial life as well, of a sort. Much less potent than himself, and not through the same means, but still.

"...Interesting."

Even before the alchemy begins, he spots something he had ever noticed before - small plants (clovers?) cling to the elemental coating of the Slime, despite not being Dendro.

He quickly grabs a Dendro slime to accompany, and sets to work.

"If I can get the plants to grow faster..."

Sensing someone looking over his shoulder, without turning around, he calls out;

"Grab a Hydro Slime. I think I may be able to figure something out here..."

The Vital Vitriol

[workshopofchalk]

Thoughts on the Unknown

(cut for length)

“...”

This is… new.

Albedo paces around the bizarre rift that had formed, each angle a new look into… somewhere. Somewhere he had not seen before. Or… not that he could recall, anyhow.

It was new. He had done endless research, of countless varieties but… each experiment had its place. A place he understood.

This? This was out of his expertise - but also, not out of his learning yet - not likely out of understanding, at least.

Each glimpse promises a shimmering glimpse… a reflection - a refraction? He could not tell.

It… makes him feel somewhat melancholic. He could paint this - this… aberration of the world, cut open and laid bare to… whatever laid beyond, but he didn’t know if it would last long enough.

Why it had formulated here, of all places, was also a question Albedo desired an answer to. His research camp was hardly a place of note, save for anyone but him and Sucrose, so this placement could have been for any sort of reason. Mere chance, some form of divine willing for him alone… he couldn’t possibly know. But what he did know was that this was something he could not ignore.

“...”

A snowflake falls, twirling, into the gaping maw of… everythingness and nothingness, before disappearing, fizzled out, robbed of whatever form of snow it would take as a collective, trekking into infinity on its own.

…The snowflake was like him, in a way. Cut away from most of society. Though he was by choice, not the happenstance that brought the snowflake through the aether. And unlike the snowflake, which would likely wither and melt away wherever it ended… he thrived in this way, separated. It let him focus on his works, it let him save energy for his experiments (or cleaning after whatever rubble Klee left behind,) and let him work on his final assignment. He… supposed it would be better if he had his Master back, that was the goal, but… also, his goal was to do this alone, to prove it to her. She claimed she had nothing left to teach him. He could do this alone - and, well, with his assistant. His life as it was now was good - to achieve his goal, he would always aspire, but… this was not as bad as it could be.

“...Hmm.”

The rift pulsates, pulling his attention, before lulling him back into melancholic thought.

It reminded him of a simpler past - before he was curious, before he studied, when it was him and his master, simply braving dungeons, and coming back out… before the world became so much more open. So much more for him to prove.

It had never been an easy past. But it made him strong. He may not have the same physical potency as others, but his strengths came in his whole self, body and mind. He had to be strong - she would never have let him stay, should he fail. He was made to be who he was, not by some genetic chance. Made.

And working as he did now only honed it. His blade was rarely tested as much, sure, but his mind was doubly sharp for it. He had honed alchemical skills that would put any other alive to shame. And, yet… he still was not at her level yet. Nor at the level to accomplish his last assignment.

“Perhaps I should test…”

His hand buries into the snow-caked soil beneath him, and the floral construct he had called on for a long, long time now came into being, a small distance from the rift. The central crystalline structure reflects the impossible shapes of the rift.

A small burst of Geo energy pulsates from within, and, like the snowflake, is pulled in, from the cusp of something, into nothing.

“Understood. Hmm…”

He quickly aims to dissipate the lotus, eyes drawn to the rift once more…

Each glimpse gave him a new cause to pause, to think. He really should draw it, if it lasts long enough…

Perhaps that would elicit the same effect. Would make it easier to focus on his research, if his thoughts would be left behind as such.

“...”

His thoughts wander, once more, as he stares into each fragment of… something, on the other side.

Would his art be all that he was known for? Albedo was unlikely to die - at least so far, his body had yet to falter, this far on. But his alchemical work was far from a field that many would recall, were his form to eventually waver. Sure, those in the field would recall it, study it in their own right, like he did those from even before his time…

But, if he could imagine, his art would be his legacy, more than his main work. That… was somewhat disappointing to think about, so Albedo refocuses himself.

He still needed to figure out what this even…

Wait.

“No!”

The rift begins to shrink, at a steady, constant pace. He couldn’t risk it left to become nothing, not when there was so much potential to it!

On an instinctual action, he sticks an arm within - his non-dominant one, in case it proved to sever it. Thankfully, the rift halted its state…

And began to grow once more. To its former size, then, even further. It nearly overtakes his arm in its entirety, before…

The world feels to draw far, then close again, then, in a quick barrage on his senses, sights and sounds he has never witnessed, tastes and smells unlike any before… he slowly comes to.