- Childe would be Fischl's drug dealer (weed, only weed god damn)
- Fischl wouldn't always have the mora or extra mora for it but Childe would still make her pay
- He wouldn't even consider allowing her to pay him later, he is strict about getting his mora right then and there
- Fischl really doesn't like him, but he always has the good stuff
Extra:
- Childe finds it entertaining to make fun of her and then proceed to say "Come on, I was just kidding. Oz, tell her I was just kidding!"
Fischl approached the much taller ginger man in front of her, Oz floating by her side. Childe grinned and waved once he saw her, Fischl only returned his wave with a small nod.
"How are you today, Fischl?" Childe asked, though it sounded a little more condescending than anything. Fischl ignored his question.
"I bask in the sun this dawn to obtain my, stuff. I will add, I do not possess the mora this twilight, but I shall in a few morns to come." Fischl told Childe.
Childe stared down at the "princess" for several seconds before he understood what she said.
"I need the mora, if you don't have it you're not getting the, stuff." Childe mocked the way she had said "stuff" previously.
"Who are you to be so selfish, Tartaglia? Do you yourself even need this mora?" Fischl questioned, but just like she had before, Childe ignored her question.
"No mora, no deal. Contact me once you have mora, comrade. Until next time." Childe gave her a salute before he turned on his heel and began to walk away.
Fischl grumbled and began to run after the taller man.
"Get back here, du dummer ingwer!" (You stupid ginger in German)
