Day 61: Greenhouse

[dualistic]

While Harvey never really enjoyed having to babysit one of the newer patients, he had to admit that Barnaby had been pretty easy to deal with. He'd been composed, quiet, and focused, which was a lot better than some of the other patients who only gave confused looks or had over-the-top reactions to everything they heard.

The point was, that conversation had almost been enjoyable, which was strange for Harvey to admit. He didn't know how Barnaby was going to manage in this place in the long run, but he wouldn't be surprised if he found his feet eventually and then did decently well for himself. It wasn't Harvey's job to care either way, but the close quarters they were kept in meant he'd probably end up finding out anyway.

Unfortunately, a positive note could only last for so long. As usual, it was a nurse who ruined it by insisting that he should go to the greenhouse for the last shift of the day. "Mr. Eckhart, it's not cold in there, so it shouldn't be any strain on you. It might be nice to help something grow, don't you think?"

He didn't dignify any of that with a response and instead resigned himself to his fate. He was one of the first people to make it into the muggy greenhouse, and he realized that he wasn't a fan of being cold or being hot. He fanned the air in front of his face for a few seconds and then went to find somewhere to sit down.

All the plants were lined up in pots; it almost felt like they were staring at him, waiting for him to do something about it. Well, that wasn't gonna happen.

[For Peter Parker.]

Comments

[unpriest]

The greenhouse wasn't among the areas Seishin had visited before, so when the nurse escorted the former priest towards the glass building he was a little surprised by how relatively large it was. The air inside was quite humid and muggy, but not entirely unbearable -- the summers in Sotoba could be very humid as well, after all.

There was only one other patient when he looked around; a man with bandages covering half of his face. As remarkable (if not worrying) as those bandages were, the novelist had no intention to bother the other man for no particular reason. Instead, he decided to take a look at what sort of plants they were growing in here.

All of the plants were lined up in pots, and though Seishin recognized some of the flowers and vegetables they grew, he didn't touch them. 'Growing things' wasn't anything he was particularly good at, so he would probably end up doing more harm than good.

[Free~]

[lighthearted]

Sora was glad that he'd managed to track Venom down today, since setting things straight between them had been something that he'd been intent on doing since his conversation with Chipp the day before. He'd come out of the conversation knowing a lot more about the man, which in the end just made him feel like their bond was stronger. And he'd even been able to share a little about himself, though it wasn't like he'd ever tried to hide it.

Lunch had to end at some point, though, which meant that it was time to go to the greenhouse. Sora had skipped out on the recreational field to talk with Soma in the Sun Room earlier, so he definitely wasn't going to miss the activity this time. Not that he really knew what to do with himself in the greenhouse, but he also realized that he wanted to stay on the good side of the staff.

When he arrived, the large glass building was still pretty empty. Being in here always reminded him a little of the climate in Deep Jungle. He glanced around, spotting one patient who was covered in bandages and sitting on his own, and another who was wandering around. He didn't know either of them, but he decided that the latter was more approachable. The injured man looked like he might be waiting for someone.

Which left the other man, the one with the glasses and the hair that matched Riku's in color. Sora moved over to him, tilting his head as he drew closer. "Hello there," he said. "If you don't really know what to do with them, don't worry! I don't think most of us do."

[unpriest]

Other than looking at the plants, there really wasn't much else Seishin could do but wander around. Sotoba had been surrounded by fir trees that eradicated every other plant species, and a priest was never meant to have anything to do with cultivating those trees of death.

He must have looked uncertain what to do with the plants, because it wasn't long before a boy with spiky, brown hair approached him. Seishin turned his head, and offered a friendly smile.

"I guess gardening isn't a very popular activity among the patients, is it?" he commented.

[purgatio]

Meeting with that girl hadn't been expected, and it was nearly enough to make him seek out his brother--except, the darling dear, when checked on the link, was fast asleep within his room. Albedo couldn't tell if it was medicated or natural, and he wished, for the benefit of all, including the nurses he would have to hunt down and any aggressors in the scenario, that it was a natural rest.

As if only to press into that he was alone for the last shift of the day, he was forced into the greenhouse--a place he had no interest in, and one he had only went to willing once. The last time he was here, the last Sunday, and he had taken his brother here, and they had spoke-- Perhaps, then. Is when things had actually started. If I'm worth living to you as I am, Nigredo had promised, full of a strange thanks, you have every right to take what I am. And today he had claimed it.

The boy exhaled, mind shifting to think no more on the subject. Obviously distracted still, he dropped down onto a bench, near glaring at the plant in front of him. He touched a leave suspiciously. Real, at least. Or so it seemed.

[Riku]

[inherited]

"What, you think it's poisonous? They'd be subtler about it. I can give them that." Perhaps it wasn't the best of openings, but his nurse wasn't letting up after he showed some willful behavior today. Too bad, he kind of liked moving to his own beat when it came to these things. It made them more interesting. Then again, he couldn't help but laugh at the fact that he was meeting Albedo again. It was just one antagonistic meeting to another, though his last one was really the night before.

Riku didn't make any great show of dropping down beside him. He just sat down and reached out, touching the plant himself. He didn't make any comment about it, though. What was the point? Instead, he shrugged and leaned away. If Albedo really had a problem with plants, then he could make it clear. Vegetation wasn't anything Riku was going to waste his time worrying about.

[purgatio]

The voice called itself as roughly familiar, and he placed it after a beat, Riku dropping down in the seat next to him. Albedo didn't move for his position for a moment, then sighed and pulled his arm back. "I'm from the future of this time. Plants like this are rare and mostly just hybrids." From what he knew. He was, by no means, a botanist, or had any interest in being something close to that.

The boy leaned back slightly, looking over at the other. Neutrality covered his expression, an edge of resignation present. Of course that girl had been the shift prior, and of course this one was the current shift. It made a perfect kind of sense and any frustration that would normally bloom was replaced with something closer to an off-beat congeniality. "Should I ask how you are?"

[vulpinisms]

The greenhouse. Finally. It was the shift Kurama had been waiting for ever since he'd checked the schedule earlier that day. His nurse came to collect him to lead outside to the greenhouse. It was the one from his first day.

"Let's head outside, shall we?" she said, giving him a smile. "Did you enjoy lunch?"

Had they noticed that he hadn't eaten at all? Kurama gave his nurse a sidelong glance when she wasn't paying attention, focusing on the clipboard she was carrying. It was facing away from him, so there was no way to see if there was anything of importance there.

"I did," he replied in the pleasant tone expected of 'Seimei.' In the interest of moving the conversation onward to something else before she would have a chance to ask him anything else related, he continued on. "I heard there were therapy sessions today for some patients. Will I be assigned one sometime, as well?"

It worked; his nurse didn't pursue the subject of his lunch any further. Instead, she lifted the clipboard and Kurama angled himself subtly so he could read off of it as she flipped through the sheaf of papers. But no, there wasn't anything interesting he managed to catch. She'd flipped through them too fast for him to catch more than a glimpse, after all. He did wonder what notes they were taking on him.

"It looks like you'll have a scheduled session tomorrow," she replied. "Don't worry about it! I'm sure you'll get along just fine with your doctor." She didn't provide a name. Kurama thought it best that he didn't ask.

He was led outside with some of the other male patients. The sudden cold air was expected, but still made him shiver. Kurama was glad for the much warmer climate control inside the greenhouse. This was his environment.

There were neat rows of potted plants -- several flowers, vegetables, palm trees lining the walls, others. All-in-all, a wide selection for his arsenal, specifically designed for his abilities. Kurama wondered if he could take something with him to his room. Was that allowed? He'd have to remember to ask. It would make his nights easier if he didn't have to make a trip to the other side of the institute every so often, just to get himself a weapon. His Rose Whip had been modified for his purposes to be more resilient than normal plants, so he would frequently have to replace his weapons at this rate. Unless he was given the time and means to modify his weapons himself.

"Here we are, Seimei. I'll be back for you later." His nurse left him on his own, finally.

There weren't too many people in here with him yet and Kurama didn't feel pressured to find someone to talk to. In here, he didn't feel quite as watched as he had felt in the Sun Room.

So he picked an empty bench and sat down. It was no surprise at all that he would be near the roses. There was a reason they were his choice weapon. Kurama lifted a hand to one of the flowers, avoiding the thorns, and pulled it gently toward him so he could inspect it. Even if the institute did questionable things with their patients, they certainly took good care of their flowers.

[Klavierrrrrr]

[rocksthecourt]

Unfortunately, Klavier was feeling far less "at home" upon entering the greenhouse himself. Most especially when getting here meant that he was being pulled away from the Music Room. Perhaps his nurse's extended absence during the military's reign had rendered her memory useless? Surely she remembered where his priorities lay, yes? Here's a hint just in case: it has nothing to do with flowers. Regardless, she remained insufferable and led him away from his moments of peace in order to seek the therapeutic embrace of freezing temperatures and the stench of dirt.

"Come on now, Mr. Gilmour. You can't stay cooped up inside all day." She was trying to sound friendly and coaxing. Bless her poor little heart. He'd almost feel bad if he didn't hate her guts at the moment. "And of all the flowers we have here, we don't need to add any wallflowers today, right?" ...Mein Gott. She actually beamed a little at her own joke, proud and expectant. He actually did laugh a little and beamed a bright, amused smile right back at her. Ha~ You are an idiot ♥

She seemed to feel that she was successful in brightening his mood because she looked quite enthusiastic. ...No, wait. She looked that way because she had just spotted someone. Something seemed to click, and she was suddenly leading him toward this someone with that same bright smile of hers. ...He forgot how she seemed to enjoy playing matchmaker a little too much at times.

"Ah, Mr..." she checked her chart really quick,"...Abe! This is your first time in the greenhouse, isn't it? Aren't the flowers lovely? You know, David also likes roses very much." ...His brother was the one who liked roses. Thank you for the mix up... "Why don't you give him some company for a bit? David. Mr. Abe is new, so be nice."

"...Of course~" he said simply to make her leave him alone already. (God, had she always been this annoying or was he just really impatient?) Thankfully, she did exactly that, walking off after giving them both a satisfied smile. When she was finally out of earshot, he turned to look at the young man with a slightly more honest smile.

"...Aha. I think she's had a little too much coffee. It has been a long day, I suppose." He brushed some hair out of his face distractedly. "Do ignore what she said, if you don't mind. It's Klavier. Not David."

[vulpinisms]

Kurama looked up from checking the saturation of the soil to find another nurse calling his name, the fake one. She had another patient in tow -- light hair, foreigner, probably a few years older in human years.

He waited patiently for the nurse to introduce them to each other. This must be common practice around here; if there wasn't enough of what the staff deemed 'healthy interaction,' they'd match patients up themselves. Unnecessary, given the real nature of the place and its patients, but perhaps a way to meet new people without prior reason.

He smiled and nodded at the right moments, and finally, the nurse left them alone. Kurama watched her go, then turned his attention his new acquaintance whose name was probably not 'David' after all.

"Ah, I thought so," Kurama replied. "If I'm not mistaken, that's... German?"

He pulled his hand back out of the plant, shaking off some of the soil that had clung to his fingers.

"Same for me, of course. Abe Seimei isn't my name. It's Shuuichi." He offered his other hand. "Pleased to meet you."

[tightsofmight]

It wasn't such a bad day. Comparatively, it was actually a rather good one. If you subtracted a few things here and there, the entirety of breakfast, the cold, the whole of his brain and how it kept running back to the same deep dark corners he needed to avoid, it was a pretty mellow experience. No one had given him any news. Worse news. It was about the only kind you could expect to hear, and it had him yearning for a thumb through of the Daily Bugle like you wouldn't believe. Even if it was one of those issues with his own mug splashed across the front for some saucy headlines.

Yeah. It was at that point. He'd even give a bear hug to the Kingpin if he strolled in for visitor's day. Lowering your standards was the only way you could work a smile out of anyone here.

Which was probably why he was in the greenhouse today. For 'fun'. Aunt May would have a field day, her little boy was weeding things of his own volition. But it was something to do with his hands, and it was something different-ish. A good chore to lose yourself in.

Except that would be really hard to do when there was only like. Five people in there with you. And he knew two of them too. Peter stifled an uprising in his gut and gave Sora a little smile and a wave, though he privately felt thankful that the boy was already talking with someone else. And the other, well.

Let's just say that while he could technically continue to avoid Harvey Dent, there came a point where you just felt ridiculous dodging somebody for no good reason. Especially after last night. He didn't seem mad at him. Call it cowardice (or highly attuned self-preservation), but after what had happened in the Coliseum he hadn't wanted to take his chances with the most volatile member of their little crew. Whatever Harvey might feel about the rest of them, he actually did like Indy. That much was plain. So excuse him for thinking that...well...

Peter would have strangled himself, too. You don't take that sort of thing lightly.

But that wasn't the case. Not yet. So maybe he could take a wee chance with a guy who made a hobby out of trailing after Batman with a gun in his hand and hope for the best. Besides, not sitting with him would just be stupid. There were so few people in the greenhouse that sitting at an empty spot would look like the height of social awkwardness.

He didn't sit though. Not unless he wasn't wanted. Hands in his pockets and situating himself at Harvey's right, he made a nod at the lonely potted plants. "I take it this isn't your thing."

[dualistic]

Well, this was unexpected.

Harvey had been pretty convinced that Peter had been trying to avoid him since the night in the basement, but they'd been forced to interact -- at least somewhat -- the night before. That had apparently lifted up the wall between them, since the kid had decided to approach out of his own volition now. It wouldn't have been so hard to avoid each other in the greenhouse, since there were rows of plants extending throughout the room, but Peter had still wandered over here.

Maybe it was his way of apologizing, or trying to make up for what he'd done. Harvey had never hold it against the kid that much, though. Sure, if they'd met the day after he probably would have had some choice words for Peter, probably would have let all of his anger at what this place had done to them spill over.

At this point, though, with Jones back in business and the whole group of them working on their next suicidal mission, there wasn't much point in making a thing of it. Peter was still acting pretty awkward, but Harvey could handle that. If it weren't for this place, they probably would have never interacted, after all. They weren't exactly in the same social circles.

In response to Peter's statement, Harvey just barked out a laugh and shook his head. "No. How about you?" As far as he knew, teenage boys weren't into gardening, but Peter wasn't exactly a normal teenage boy.

[tightsofmight]

Crinkles outlined his nose as he shook his head in the negative, pulling a face. "Never. Aunt May would have to drag me by my heels to get me anywhere near the garden shed."

Taking the lack of throttling motions as an invitation to sit, Peter pushed at a pot absently with a finger or two as he talked. He wasn't leaping at the chance to plant things right about now, but he couldn't help but fiddle a little. Particularly when he was nervous.

"...Thank you. For..." His lips worked from side to side. This was a hard thing to say. Peter couldn't even work out the specifics of what he was grateful for, or what he felt about the man beside him or even what the hell his opinion on last night as a whole was. There were too many question marks in the equation, and he couldn't help but give an ear to that tiny voice in the back of his head reminding him that this was not a good man. Card carrying villain to his right, don't look now.

And yet every time that voice came up, there was also the blanket stifling it. A universal 'Dude, chill' to the frantic nerves that worked up every time he had to stand still and converse with the likes of the Kingpin, of Norman. He couldn't find it in him to be scared of Harvey anymore.

"...Well, thanks for giving a crap, I guess." So much for eloquence. Peter dropped his head in a hand and ceased all plant-prodding. He was still staring at the ground. "I almost didn't come last night. Not just for - like, everything. The works. Screw the basement. I never want to touch it again."

There was a pause. The words stuck heavily to his teeth as they gritted, ground down on one another. "I'd been hiding behind corners thinking you were going to shoot me."

They weren't bosom buddies. Probably never would be. But, at least on Peter's end, a quiet ease had fallen between the two. Maybe he could trust in that for a while.

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar was still fuming from his conversation with that man in the Sun Room. 'What happened to his face?' Really? He was glad to be rid of the man and his prying questions and the nurse led him into a muggy, warm room that was completely filled with plants. Unlike the Sun room, even the walls were made of glass. It must have been a strange sort of growing house. Scar had never seen anything like it.

But if there was any physical feeling that Scar hated, it was humidity. The damp, stickiness that made his clothes cling to him and his head feel heavy. He wished he could go back to the Sun Room. (Though he didn't feel like encountering the red head once again...) He sat at a bench in the back, the air making him feel tired.

[Free~]

[earthling]

Lunch shift had been pretty invigorating, but he could only take his mind off of his troubles for so long. Although he'd left a note for his mother, he'd caught sight of another message addressed to her and three others. Judging from the contents, it sounded like it was her basement group. While Claude knew it was probably better to butt out and let them sort through their issues, he'd never been one to just stand back and let someone unknowingly walk into danger -- especially not his own family or a couple of children.

That's why he was in more of a somber mood by the time fourth shift rolled around. His nurse seemed to believe the greenhouse would put him in a better mood, but Claude wasn't so sure. In the end, though, he hadn't been given much of a choice.

"Here, Mr. Matthews over there is new," the nurse said with a sunny smile once they'd stepped inside the moist room. She gestured toward a patient sitting in the back of the greenhouse. "Why don't you help him feel more welcome here?"

Claude looked over at the man with faintly raised eyebrows. At first glance, he didn't exactly look like the sort of guy who welcomed company, but the nurse insisted that he go. Eventually, he had to relent, and he approached the older man, taking a seat on the other side of the bench.

"Hi," he greeted, not immediately looking at the stranger in case it came across as too confrontational. Instead, his gaze wandered across the various plants and flowers that were neatly arranged for them to look at. If he was as new as the nurse implied, then this man probably wasn't in the best of moods. Better to start off easy, then. "I'm Claude. I don't think I've seen you around before."

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar was about to doze off where he sat. Between sitting in the Sun Room all through last shift and the hot, damp air of the greenhouse, his head and limbs felt heavy and his eyes drooped a bit. Despite his drowsiness, Scar still refused to just let his bad mood go. He was still brooding about that man from earlier when someone else greeted him, taking a seat next to him.

The Ishbalan glanced over at his current company briefly, intending to mumble some sort of greeting before returning to his moping. But the other man's, or more specifically, other boy's appearance startled him. He was only a child! What was a kid doing here? If this place was anything like how Lust or Renji had described it, it wasn't a place for a kid! And the boy had a... slightly soft air about him. Sure, everyone seemed soft when placed next to Scar. But still, he could only be a year or two older than the Elric boys. But like the Elrics, first impressions could be deceiving, he supposed.

Scar took a double take, and a more socially conscious man would have noticed that he was being a little awkward. Though he did realize that he should probably respond.

"Yeah, I just got here this morning."

At least he had something else to direct his frustration at besides the redhead from the Sun Room. What were these people doing? Bringing kids into this hell hole...

[toxicspiderman]

The first thing Sangamon Taylor saw on entering the greenhouse was Harvey and Peter having what appeared to be a serious conversation. Man, didn't the kid ever have fun? But the second thing he saw was a decent distraction. Someone had transplanted seedlings -- too small to tell what they were -- into a slurry of dirt, water, and enough all-natural fertilizer that it smelled like No Name's dumpster. Fish bone soup. At least it wasn't the chemical shit, but too much of a good thing was as poisonous as none at all.

Bastards. Probably flowers, though all he could tell right now was that they were dicotyledons. Two little leaves, without any tell-tale shapes. Probably had one of the girls pot them up this morning, just so they could tell her they all died next time. Fuck that. He got a tray of fresh dirt and made perfect little pits, into which he carefully poured the sprouts.

[free and open to backthreading]

[tasteoftruth]

You were on the list, Lunge. It was a very long list and there tended to be more people on it than off it, but he was on the list.

Badd escorted himself out to the greenhouse. He was a city man and didn't have much interest in botany but it seemed like it would be less crowded out here. He took a seat on one of the benches and people-watched, not really inspecting one above the other but simply watching the way they interacted. Instincts died hard.

He was almost looking forward to the night. It might be horrific again, but he'd get to move under his own power and he'd be alone with Byrne instead of surrounded by idiots.

[Guybrush]

[threepwood]

Having had his own letter-writing (and the conversation he was having in tandem with it) interrupted, Guybrush found himself receiving a letter of his own. He'd expected it to be from his court-appointed attorney, but knew better once the envelope was in his hand, the smell of her perfume coloring the air around it. Elaine! He nearly tore the already-opened envelope in half, unable to get the paper out fast enough, sure the letter inside would give him some beacon of hope to follow, some guiding light to get him through the dark days.

The letter he received did just the opposite. Elaine was out there, alive, but if the letter truly was from her, it was disheartening, to say the very least. It could have been faked, he told himself. Had to have been falsified. They'd just gotten every nuance of her handwriting mimicked perfectly, right down to the way she curled her Y's and put a dot too far to the right on her I's and... and...

He sighed as he followed the nurse to the greenhouse. A part of him wanted to give up, simply let himself be brainwashed by the institute in the slim chance they'd let him go to her. It was giving up, cowardice at its finest; however, he'd do anything to be with Elaine, even if it meant losing himself.

Another part of him was angry, bitter that they could have done this to her. They'd made her believe she was April Turner, and that he was crazy. They'd managed to convince the strongest, most intelligent woman he knew that she'd been delusional, and were now forcing her to live out some lie in some place he'd never heard of- if she'd even written the letter at all. And as the seconds passed and he poured over the letter in his hands more and more, he was sure she did.

If they'd done that to the aforementioned strongest, most intelligent, most beautiful, cleverest governor he'd ever met and married, what chance did he have? She was always several steps ahead of him- did that mean it was up to him to rescue her again, or was he simply headed that way, as well? And would he fight it when the time came?

Guybrush didn't get the chance to pour over those answers as he was shown to one of the benches and told to make nice with the gentleman sitting there. He had a seat, but whether or not he'd follow directions was yet to be seen.

He glanced at the paper in his hand idly again, another sigh pushing through him before he finally spoke. "So. Nice bench you have here."

[tasteoftruth]

"Oh, it's not mine. I'm just borrowing it." Badd shifted slightly to the side to give the newcomer some space. At least he hadn't started with a host of inane questions, point in his favor, but he seemed less polite and more...distraught.

The man was holding a paper and giving it the same look Badd used to give his gas bill in January. Badd didn't peek, didn't need to. He'd been there last week.

"Let me guess." He pointed to the paper. "You got a letter from a friend."

[ryuuzaki]

No choice, this shift, more supervision, and a useless activity, unless someone devoted their time in the greenhouse to scoping out supplies they might want to try to loot later. Parts of the annex might be useful for hiding things, but there were probably better places in the Institute. The smell, the cloying funk that was characteristic of closed areas with a lot of plants and soil, made L wrinkle his nose. He didn't mind getting his hands dirty in the figurative sense, but he preferred to avoid the literal when he could.

He looked around and saw neither Jones nor Daemon. Taylor was working alone, and L almost took up a place beside him, but at that point, he caught sight of Edgar's golden hair among the green leaves. Of the two possible conversations, the one with Edgar took precedence, so L headed over.

"I'm not sure how I feel about sleeping until noon, but the food has definitely improved," he remarked, conscious of the nurse who had yet to move out of earshot.

[Edgar!]

[girlsandgadgets]

Having been given a pair of small shears and instructed to trim the dead leaves off a bush, Edgar had purposefully kept himself within eyeshot of the door, hoping to cross paths with someone of interest. With the men separated from the women for the shift, finding Terra would be out of the question; he'd spoken to Locke already and left him to deal with his own affairs. There were others he'd not seen in some time, but not spotting any of them upon his entrance, he'd decided to make himself visible and hope they would come to him.

And indeed, one did. He looked his shoulder as he heard Ryuuzaki's familiar tone. "I agree. Landel isn't an ideal warden, but at least what he feeds us is palatable."

In his glance, he spotted the nurse, still standing nearby. The smile he cast her was returned briefly, but she stayed within earshot. Edgar turned back to his work. "You're looking much better than when I last saw you."

[ryuuzaki]

"If I looked much worse than the last time you saw me, I probably wouldn't be out of bed," L replied. "But you know how it is. This place is so good for recovery." He wondered if the hovering nurse would catch the dry note in that statement, the hint of irony... No, she's as oblivious to it as ever.

The nurse inclined her head towards a small starter tray a few feet away. Its compartments were filled with soil, and there were several dozen seeds in a plastic dish just next to it: he retrieved the lot, bringing everything back closer to Edgar. When he reached for a hand trowel, though, he was intercepted by the nurse. She passed him a plastic spoon and nodded at the tray again, all encouragement. A few of the compartments had divots in their tops, making it clear how the spoon and seeds were to be used.

He gave her a half-smile which he intended to be ingratiating but which seemed sickly, at best, and when he turned away, it mutated into a hooded, resentful look. Then he sighed, and even that faded. His primary interest was in appearing to be busy in a way that would bore the staff, and for that, a spoon would do as well as a trowel. A mask of compliance was useful, and it might be bad for him if it slipped. It was only that tolerating the constant infantilization wore thin sometimes.

He held the handle of the spoon daintily, with the tips of his fingers, and dipped the end of the bowl into hitherto-undisturbed dirt. This appeared to satisfy the nurse, who moved to a nearby group.

"Mr. Lunge and I made it most of the way to the ballroom last night. We'll be able to use one of the rings to return there, now." He kept his voice pitched low: enough that only Edgar could hear it, without it appearing to anyone else to be anything as conspicuous or conspiratorial as actual whispering.

[dividedby]

Surprises, but no answers. This was not a good way to spend the latter part of his day. At all.

As he followed his nurse to their next destination, the letter Zero had been given by her crinkled in his hand. The words on it made little sense to him; however, the name given at the bottom was an unnerving clue. Doctor Celia Giroux. At first, he wasn't sure who that was supposed to be...then he repeated the first name in his mind a few times, and the connection was made very quickly.

Celia. Seel-eah. Seel. Ciel.

He'd read the letter over again with that name in mind. The words still made no sense, but Zero couldn't deny that the tone of the letter sounded very much like Ciel. The handwriting, too, was just like hers. If it weren't for those two facts, then he would have easily dismissed this letter as nothing more than a trick. Now he was left wondering how they were able to recreate Ciel's handwriting...and what this letter actually meant, as well.

Unfortunately, the area he'd be spending the next shift in wouldn't be any help to him at all, fact-wise or concentration-wise. It was just plants. A building full of plants. A building with a humid atmosphere that made him feel more uncomfortable than he would have felt staying outside for a whole shift again...and with plants.

He understood the importance of them - Area Zero helped remind him if he'd ever forgotten that importance before - but as for actually doing anything with them, Zero could care less. What was he expected to do with the plants? Weren't they meant to be left alone?

Whatever he was expected to do, he wasn't going to do it. The once-Reploid took to wandering up and down the aisles of pots instead, thinking about the possible significance of the letter (that was now in his pocket), among other things. As he walked, his eyes casually glanced at the tags hanging beside the pots, each of which listed what kind of flower was in each pot...although Zero could only recognize a few names, like 'rose' and 'daisy'. Should he know any more? He was built for combat, not to be a botanist...but anyway...

....wait. Stop. Go back. That plant. What did its tag say again?

Iris?

...Iris.

The word was...mind stirring. For some reason. Like something vaguely familiar, yet not. It caused Zero to stare at the tag with a curious expression on his face, subtle as it was. Slowly blinking. Iris. Yes, there was some connection to this word, but the connection was severed. Something from the past that he couldn't quite remember. What was it again?

...Perhaps it wasn't very productive to want to keep staring at this plant, to stop considering that letter and everything else, but the word was just familiar enough that he wanted to keep trying to figure out why he felt this way when he heard it. Iris. What did that word mean to him? Maybe if he kept thinking hard enough, it'd come to him eventually...maybe...

Or maybe this was all just a waste of time.

More surprises, and still no answers.

[There is a Rapunzel wannabe all by his lonesome, staring at a potted seedling like it's some kind of alien species. ...IOW, this is closed because I took so long to post to this shift, Zero's being too antisocial to bother anyone, and I doubt someone would want to come pester him at this point anyway. ^^;]

THE LATEST EVER

[vinesofregret]

Stepping into the Greenhouse was almost like stepping into a different world. He was a little surprised the place even had a greenhouse - glass was expensive, and the state of the rest of the building did not speak to a great deal of wealth. He couldn't quite say he minded, though. Having plants around always cheered him up a little (was that because of his demon-powers, or the reason for them?), and unlike outside, it was warm in here, like springtime.

Humming to himself, he set to work clearing some stray sprouts out of the edges of pots.

[For Goku!]

[bitpartgod]

Today had been a quiet day, and encouragingly stress-free: no one had died or been injured in the night, and Kibitoshin had managed to avoid the company of anyone excessively threatening and/ or evil. For what felt like the first time in a while, he was actually in just the right mood for gardening, relatively cheerful and peaceful. In any other situation he either found himself horribly distracted by some tragedy or the person he'd been seated with, or so depressed or hurt that he couldn't quite treat the plants in the greenhouse with the respect they deserved.

Maybe this time he wouldn't uproot anything or plant any bulbs the wrong way around!

As Kibitoshin took a seat on the bench and watched his nurse leave, he found himself wondering if the military would have made them garden as well. He couldn't really see a point to a soldier knowing how to take care of flowers. Maybe they'd have told them to point out edible wild plants or grow food to take on military excursions- though, now that he thought about it, there wasn't much practical use to any of their activities.

Clearly, Kibitoshin decided as he examined the packets of seeds, Martin Landel just liked flowers. And there was nothing wrong with that.

[RITSUUU]