[ not to say he might have a type, but he might have a type. gods may have their preferences but more often than not have always been drawn to people with such strong conviction or ambition--the first person he'd ever been close to, devastatingly so, a bard in an imprisoned city. centuries later, a slave girl fighting for her freedom. eras later, a traveler fallen to teyvat from beyond the stars...

so yeah, 'you're so scary! ♥' is hilariously right. some flirts like him really need to be executed on sight. that being said her explanation of her name is much more sobering, his teasing face flickers to surprise at that so-casual reveal of slaughter. and then her reaction to her name... well, if it meant 'killer of populations' maybe it's entirely too understandable, it's not a personal name with such divine meaning as his is. maybe it's something more like a cursed title that her enemies would call her in fear and hatred.

and she doesn't even seem aware that she'd shared it. he stares at her through the drizzling rain, water dripping off his braids, mind reeling back to the text conversation. ]

I think something strange is going on or affecting us. It wasn't just through the phone... what we're even saying could be suspect. [ every word slower and almost deliberate. he lifts his hand to his neck; first, a nervous tic and hold-over from that first death. or as if he could practically stop or feel betraying words from vocal cords. ] Suspect, or... honest, unwittingly so. [ a guess, from the text conversation. but who'd know how to connect this curse to water. ] We should be careful.

... Should we get out of the rain, for a start? [ well, he wouldn't want her to get sick. ]