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[justasimple]

[The Medicine Seller is seen slowly, deliberately walking down the streets of Anatole as if he had not been tremendously stricken weeks or so ago.

There is not a difference in his appearance save for the obvious lack of a certain item: his headscarf. Blood is such a bother to remove if it settles for too long.]

Ah...

[Even with the scarf

Comments

[raketen]

[ Just the person Alfons had been considering looking up! He approaches somewhat tentatively-- ]

Ah... excuse me!

[justasimple]

[He, with no valid expression, simply stops. A light jingle sounds in turn.]

Yes?

[raketen]

I was curious... [ How does one even begin having such a conversation? In the middle of a street? Alfons drops his voice, though he's aware that if one is speaking with a medicine seller, others can probably infer the subject. ] ... about your wares. [ He'll just use his word, then. What a terrible thing to talk about. ] What do you offer? What can you... treat?

[justasimple]

Ho? [The Medicine Seller seems hardly bothered by the notion. It's common practice, as far as he's concerned.]

I can heal whatever my medicines will allow. I offer the same. [Meaning, whatever he has potentially stashed away is what the customer will receive.]

[raketen]

I see. [ A shift in expression, something more thoughtful. ] Could you perhaps do something for, ah -- faulty lungs, as it were?

[justasimple]

That is quite the uncommon illness. [He being accustomed to the Edo Period's usage of medicines, well-] Let me see.

[Give him a moment as he sets his- rather large- medicine box to the ground. The contents? They're a mystery.]

Opium is a rather common drug, but I'm afraid... it might not suit well with you. [I-is that a dried lung he's taking out from a drawer? Yes. Yes it is.]

I still have a variety of herbs for a cough, it seems.

[raketen]

Well, it's -- it's a result of fuel exposure, or so I've been told. [ Subconsciously a hand travels to his chest. ] I've... started to doubt that anything can be done to reverse the damage, but -- herbs for the cough would be wonderful, I think.

Which do you recommend? [ Please don't say the dried lung... ]

[justasimple]

[Relax, he'll set the lung away for the time being. At least, at the mention of fuel exposure.] A chronic case, is it?

[Clatter, click.] Celandine -- my, I might even have sunflower. The later is generally local-grown.

[If you peer close enough, the scent of gunpowder might just reach your nose.] I will...

...see what I can do with these.

[raketen]

Yes, it's chronic. [ Narrowed eyes at the products, but just inquisitively -- Alfons trusts the Medicine Seller. ]

Thank you, sir. What will I owe you?

[justasimple]

Nothing... in particular. [Usually, he finds himself not asking for currency. Well, the jewelry might speak otherwise, but if you've lived as long as he has, nice things tend to collect no matter.]

Perhaps some string. Or salt.

[raketen]

Whatever you'd like, I'll give it to you. [ Gratefulness just isn't enough! ]

[justasimple]

[Hey, if the offer's there.] Certainly... salt. Wood, as well.

[raketen]

Any kind, or something specific?

[justasimple]

So long as the salt is not... tainted. That is all.

[raketen]

Got it. And the wood?

[justasimple]

Wood... is wood. I am more concerned with... what goes in the ashes.