toxicspiderman: Photo of a grassy, tree-lined riverbank.  (Specifically, The Charles River) (bucolic)
Sangamon Taylor ([personal profile] toxicspiderman) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2009-04-09 05:01 pm

Day 40: Greenhouse [Fourth Shift]

Most days, fish and chips (and a cold beer or three) was pretty goddamned high on S.T.'s list of perfect expense-account lunches. Today, the idea of picking at greasy hunks of unidentified bottom-feeder odds-and-ends (politely known as scrod, to the delight of teenagers all across the Northeast) didn't appeal.

He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.

The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.

It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.

He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.

[Free!]

[identity profile] no-side-effects.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
The sun room offered a greater chance for interaction, as a number of the male patient population would no doubt choose to stay inside rather than go to the greenhouse, but Wesker preferred to go outside again. Wesker was curious if the greenhouse would have some sort of dangerous, man-eating plant in the greenhouse at night, but he wasn't going to test that theory. There wasn't much point, though perhaps once he had completed his improvised incendiary weapons he would see what changes the greenhouse underwent at night.

There was only one other patient in the greenhouse at the moment, very intently re-potting seedlings. Rather than disturb him, Wesker turned his attention to removing dead and wilting flowers off the various blossoming plants. It was simple, mindless work that allowed Wesker to do plenty of thinking as he removed the flowers that were well past their prime.

[Free]

[identity profile] whos-da-man.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 10:07 pm (UTC)(link)
"You want me to do what?"

Junpei blinked at his nurse and then looked at the stuff on the little table. Empty pots, bags of dirt, some hand shovels and a tray of little plants. Apparently, she wanted him to put the plants in the pots. And she was explaining it to him like he was five.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I gotcha," he grumbled, putting on a pair of gloves. "This is really boring, just so you know. Like talking to plants and tending them will metaphorically tend to my own soul of shit like that is going to make you stop thinking I'm crazy."

Shaking his head, he started the process of potting the damn plants. Maybe if he actually got them all done, they'd let him take a flower with him to give to Chidori.

...of course they wouldn't have those kind of flowers in here. It was like adding insult to injury.

[free]
longlivetheking: (Anger)

[personal profile] longlivetheking 2009-04-09 10:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Scar entered the green house in an incredibly bad mood, for which he had a certain insolent patient to thank for. Where did that man get the nerve?! Thankfully for the King, the shift had ended before it could escalate.

But the mere thought made a low growl escape his throat, which earned him another scolding from his nurse. Not that Scar had every intention to listen to her, which he made all the more clear by simply pretending she didn't even exist. His attempt ended up as a success as she eventually went to tend to another patient, but Scar hardly took note of his little victory.

He sat down somewhere on the ground, pointedly ignoring all the items around him and opting for glaring daggers at the colorful flowers instead.

But the flowers didn't make him forget what had happened at lunch. In a sense, they seemed to be mocking him like that Rould have obviously done. His teeth clenched as he inwardly seethed with rage, unsharp nails digging into his palm. How dared he claim such things?! He was a better King than Mufasa! He, who had been the rightful heir all along! But that fool would learn, wouldn't he? He would learn indeed.

[Free, but in a bad mood.]

[identity profile] notachick.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[for Jaime Reyes]

Nataku, the former Toushin Taishi, was going to be one of Okita's prime responsibilities now. As requested, he'd approach the boy and befriend him and hopefully he'd learn a little more about the type of people that the gods chose to be their killers. Right now, however, he had the duty of convincing a particularly prickly young man that the History Club wasn't just a figurehead of power among the patients.

Okita didn't think they needed to recruit Jaime, but he didn't want more dissent among the patient body than necessary. It hadn't bothered him when the citizens of Kyoto called the Shinsengumi wolves and supported the Choushu over the Bakufu, but it did bother him when people might be coerced to subvert his group here. Reason? He couldn't just cut down the offender in the streets like he had back home. Working here involved much more finesse than usual and where finesse was needed, Okita went.

After leaving a note on the bulletin board for Hijikata (and fully expecting a 'go screw yourself' response), Okita moved to the greenhouse. Rows upon rows of green plants and clean air greeted him. Earlier in the day, the women had worked here so the air was also damp with the smell of wet dirt. Despite that, Okita breathed deep and then moved over to a bench that held pots of small, fragrant yellow flowers. As he sat down, he noted that they smelled like jasmine. His nurse brought him tools and Okita started weeding and pruning the plants, as he waited.

[identity profile] toobothersome.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 10:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, that conversation had been fruitless, and much less relaxing than he'd hoped. Really, would it kill people to think about something other than the meaning of existence and/or death once in a while? Shikamaru was getting pretty damn sick of the subjects. In fact, the next time someone tried to talk to him about something like that, he was just going to pretend to be asleep. Or actually sleep. It would be more productive, anyway.

The nurse sat him down in front of some budding plant that looked like it would bloom just fine without his interference, so as soon as she wandered off, he decided to leave well-enough alone. The wooden tables towards the back seemed like the best place to keep out of everyone's way, so he flopped onto a bench and, after sliding his hands behind his head and crossing one leg over the other, focused on the glass ceiling. It was hazy with moisture, blurring the sky into indistinct smears, but by now, Shikamaru was too sick of being annoyed to even bother scowling at it. Instead, he closed his eyes, letting the nearby conversations fade into a dull murmur as he concentrated on the clearest sky-related memory he could summon.

[free]
Edited 2009-04-09 22:29 (UTC)

[identity profile] byname-bynature.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 11:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Noise or minimal noise. What a choice.

Artemis had been glad to talk to Kakashi about his problem, but the simple fact was that it was just loud and grating in the Cafeteria. So many people... so much noise.

So given the choice between the Greenhouse or the Sun Room (which, by default would be crowded), Artemis listened to both and decided that the Greenhouse was quieter. There was still some residual, but he could sit in a corner for a moment. It felt nice, sitting on the ground with the plants. Almost like he was home.

The boy massaged his head absently, wishing that the rest of the noise would go away. It was tolerable now, but back in the Cafeteria, listening to all of it consciously had worn him out. He'd felt his last shred of sanity start to creak with the strain. But he was alright now. He was on the ground, and he would be fine.

(For Schuldig!)

[identity profile] mitase.livejournal.com 2009-04-09 11:17 pm (UTC)(link)
The thought of going to visit the greenhouse - when it wasn't all dark and scary and potentially crawling with monsters - put even Hanatarou in something approaching a good mood, which was something he rather sorely needed by this point. First the hair thing, then lunch with Gin, of all people: well, at least the plants didn't expect anything of him, for which he was grateful.

His nurse seemed pleased that he was displaying enthusiasm (even if he still wasn't quite so perky as she seemed to think he should be) and left him with tools and a tray of small seedlings that needed to be transplanted. Herbs, he decided, after examining them thoughtfully, then set to work, content enough for the moment. It was almost like being back home...well, without the other members of the 4th looming over his shoulder.

[free~]

[identity profile] heliokleptic.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
After lunch, Luke peeled away from the group long enough to stop by the bathroom. He'd finally remembered to check into what Asch had told him about the pipes. He wasn't very surprised to find everything was in good repair; no sign that anyone had been there the night before, ripping things out. It was weird, but with what he'd seen, it was the most logical answer.

And he supposed it was for the best, too. On one hand, that might mean any damage they did in the way of trying to escape would be undone by morning. But on the other, at least he wasn't going to run out of opportunities to find supplies.

What a pain. He missed the inventory he'd had at home. Not much of selling off his old things, Luke had tons of weapons, and at least four swords of good quality he could switch between at a whim. Now he had to try and fine a pipe.

As he headed back to the cafeteria, several nurses gave him Looks, and he picked up the pace to catch up with the rest of the boys. Apparently they were supposed to plant something now? Pere would have been excited at some kind of sweaty, glass building that was uncomfortable for people but apparently great for plants. Luke was less than thrilled, though at least it was nice to see some plants, he still preferred the field.

Not that he was planning on doing much in here. As promised, Luke stationed himself not far inside the doorways, waiting for Guy to come by.

[Guy]

[identity profile] high-prosecutor.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
Edgeworth's nurse caught him by the arm as he was heading for the Sun Room again after lunch. "Mr. Pierce, you're not spending all day indoors. You're heading out to the greenhouse." He started to protest, stating that he could hardly keep a potted plant alive, much less do anything useful with any of the plants here, but she was having none of it. She marched him outside and to the greenhouse, then pointed him towards some white roses, with the instructions to look out for them.

He nodded, resigned to the fact that he was at least expected to stand there and look for a while. If the rest of the day up till now hadn't been so productive, he would have been a lot grumpier about being in the stuffy room.

[o hai thar, Mr. Coffee.]
screwthegods: (Sad Homura In Flowers)

[personal profile] screwthegods 2009-04-10 12:03 am (UTC)(link)
Though if asked he'd say the conversation at lunch had indeed been pleasant, Homura walked away from the cafeteria with mixed feelings. He didn't miss Okita's newest post on the bulletin when he went to add his own, and he couldn't help but wonder just how Hijikata might respond. In his mind he of course calculated the effect of what losing Okita would do to the club that remained. In so many ways, Okita was more of their face than even Homura himself. The swordsman lacked Homura's same sadistic streak, or at least manifested it through childish pranks instead of intentional instigation. Then there were his puppies, who had always been more attached to Okita than to the demi-god, and Ayumu, who only joined because of her prior connection to Okita. And the truce that might very well not hold concerning Himura--

Homura stood to lose a great deal, even on a purely tactical basis. Not that a sudden departure would be limited to that.

But when he placed a hand into his pocket, Homura could feel the small paper flower Okita had made for him, and he quietly laughed at his own uncertainty. It wasn't like him to question so much. He would continue onward, whether or not Okita abandoned him. Yet resolution did little to ease his continued worry.

A trip to the greenhouse at least sounded promising, and Homura paused after he'd passed through the entrance to take it in. Still vastly different from those fields of Heaven he'd spent long hours in, but beautiful in its own controlled way. Homura moved among the rows until he found one in bloom, and informed his nurse that he'd work there. What he truly meant, however, was that he would fall into nostalgic thought until Nataku found him, savoring the moment alone when he could let his mind wander to a better time in his past.

[For Nataku]

[identity profile] scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:19 am (UTC)(link)
Lunch had been interesting, and more importantly had helped fill up the gaping pit Wally liked to think of as his stomach. He was starting to feel a little more confident in how much he could get away with eating as well, seeing as the giant plate of food hadn't really gotten that much attention from his lunchmates. And who knew? Maybe next time he'd be able to eat enough that he could actually start to feel a little full. Come to think of it, he hadn't gotten 'round to asking Bart if he needed to eat as much as well. He hoped the kid was going okay with that if he did. Wally was used to having to deal with eating less than he would have liked in order to avoid suspicion, but he wasn't sure if Bart was too.

It would have to wait for now though. After the weird intercom announcement (maybe Bats would have something to say about what that meant) Wally followed the stream of other patients out to the greenhouse. He hadn't actually been here before, but it was what he would have expected. Warm, humid, plants; that pretty much summed it up. Luckily he'd done his fair share of gardening around Central, so it wasn't particularly difficult for him to find a place that needed some weeding and get to work on that, all the while keeping an eye out for any interesting company.

Edited 2009-04-10 00:19 (UTC)

[identity profile] grosse-sklaven.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
((For Ed Elric))

There was really only one reason that Adelheid went into the greenhouse at all. It wasn't that he was particularly gifted at taking care of plants, nor that he had any particular attachment to their general welfare. He had lived in a gleaming monument of technology for months at a time, after all; greenery was a luxury that didn't hold many memories or considerations for him.

...except for one kind of plant in particular. The plant after which his dear sister had been named, and the scent of which always put Adelheid in a more nostalgic mood. The rose, the flower that had been one of the few splashes of color in his metal fortress...

It probably said a lot that Adelheid really wasn't doing much work on the plants. Rather, he just gazed at the perfect red flowers, a distant look in his eyes as he did so.

[identity profile] theyrenotgods.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:52 am (UTC)(link)
The greenhouse really wasn't where Daniel wanted to be spending his afternoon, but the nurse had insisted, despite his claim of having allergies. A few moments after he'd set foot in the greenhouse, Daniel sneezed. Wonderful.

Daniel took a spot as far away from blossoming plants as he could and tried to figure out what he was supposed to do for the shift. He knew quite a lot about digging things up, but his knowledge of caring for plants was pretty limited. He really preferred the plastic, decorative plants, or the kind that were served as food.

[For Jack, do you have any kleenex?]

[identity profile] rides-on-top.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:54 am (UTC)(link)
Emmett faked illness to skip the lunch shift, he wasn't in the mood to pretend to eat again. His nurse allowed him to "sleep" in his room, he spent some of the time examining his healing wounds and the rest being bored out of his mind. When his nurse came to retrieve him Emmett was more than willing to follow her out.

The humidity of the greenhouse wasn't suffocating, but it was another new sensation against his skin and in his lungs. Emmett enjoyed everything about the outdoors, both his human life and his immortal one demanded that, and he realized how much he preferred the fresh air to places like this. He wandered between the rows of plants, trying to focus on the scent of plants and dirt, even sweat. His hand brushed against the leaves of an unidentifiable plant, all leaves and no flowers. It was distracting, but Emmett wasn't sure how long he could focus on everything but his thirst. Maybe another day or two. If he was able to escape tonight then it wouldn't be a problem.

[identity profile] timeleaper.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 01:03 am (UTC)(link)
Lunch had been a quiet affair, albeit enjoyable. The food was a little greasy for his tastes, but still quite pleasant. At least they weren't going to starve here, that was for sure. It wasn't as fresh as he'd become used to on Roak, but it was still good food nonetheless. The greenhouse was somewhere that he was fairly pleased to be going to as well. It seemed to have a good stock, and Ronixis immediately identified several herbs and plants which were useful for compounding to make medicines and healing potions. He'd have to keep a note of that in case he needed to make anything. It was definitely better than searching the grounds for plants.

He found a workbench which was empty and poked at some of the plants. He broke off a few leaves and floweres here and there, lavender, sage... things that he could possibly use. And if anyone asked then it wasn't too much of a stretch to just say that they smelled nice.

[For his son!!!]

Fairly recent Naruto spoilers

[identity profile] lostonlifesroad.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 01:08 am (UTC)(link)
Well, lunch had definitely been interesting, even if Kakashi walked away from it with a few thoughts too close to the surface for his liking. He was almost tempted to hide somewhere so he could have a bit of privacy with Obito--or at least, as close to it as he could get here. Talking to the memory of his best friend had long been cathartic for him, especially when he faced things like he was about to this coming shift.

If Naruto didn't find Kakashi, Kakashi was going to find Naruto, and add a lecture about following orders on top of all the other bad news.

Or at least he'd be tempted to. But even a jounin with as much experience as Kakashi had could only harden his heart so much. What he was forced to say was already going to be cruel enough. How much worse could he really bring himself to make it?

He could almost hear Obito yelling at him for being too uptight again.

Being in the greenhouse at least gave Kakashi something to distract himself with, and he quickly identified which plants could be of use to the ninja at night--assuming that the plants didn't have wildly different medicinal properties from the ones at home. Something that was always a risk, but Kakashi decided it was worth it. Sakura only had so much chakra, and they could potentially end up needing to divide the groups further, meaning the one medical ninja wouldn't be there for some. Better to be as prepared as they could be, in case that happened.

The trick was to get what he was after without the nurses seeing. His patient uniform only allowed for carrying so much, but even a little bit would be a good start. Kakashi could find a way to dry the herbs in his room, provided Dias didn't mind the aroma--or tried to eat any of them. With the way his roommate devoured anything and everything they served for dinner, that might be a distinct possibility. Kakashi might well have to put up a sign or something.

[For Naruto]

[identity profile] udo-retrovirus.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 01:16 am (UTC)(link)
Lunch hadn't been too bad, really. Sure, it had been a bit uncomfortable for a bit, but Cross had had his reasons for asking, so Junior was more than willing to forgive him. When his nurse came to get him, though, he knew he had to find Nigredo. They had several things to discuss, most of which would probably be unpleasant. So long as they could do it without Albedo seeing them, then hopefully it wouldn't end the same way breakfast had the previous morning.

Except the redhead couldn't spot his younger brother in the Sun Room when his nurse took him through, so he let her lead him on to the greenhouse, to try and look for him there. Junior held onto the trowel that she handed him, and once she was gone started looking around for any sign of his brother. Still nothing. Sighing, he took a seat off to the side, near the entrance, waiting to see if the youngest would show up.

[identity profile] 31st-of-china.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
Plants were never his thing. He didn't mind having them around the temple, but actually caring for them was another thing entirely. This was the first time he'd ever entered a greenhouse. The first thing he noticed was that it was humid; almost uncomfortably so. There were ceramic pots all over the place, and seed packets nearby.

Sanzo picked up a packet, looking it over dubiously. It was probably supposed to be 'calming' for the prisoners. Theraputic or something like that.

..Definitely not his idea of a good time. He'd rather have a cigarette and a beer over this.
boyking: (/when everything is bright)

[personal profile] boyking 2009-04-10 05:17 am (UTC)(link)
Ending up in the greenhouse hadn't been Sam's first preference; his only attempts at growing anything were when Jess had decided the apartment could use some greenery and Sam had somehow managed to kill even their cactus in about two weeks flat. Gardening hadn't exactly been a part of his childhood, but that could only excuse so much.

His nurse had stated he was going there without leaving room for arguing, though, and Sam didn't think it was important enough where he went to object. Besides, this seemed to be the place where most people were getting herded and with any luck, the patient he'd asked to meet wouldn't end up in a different location.

He considered taking this opportunity to see if there were any useful plants he could pilfer, but on the other hand, a lot of the folklore surrounding this kind of stuff wasn't tried and tested. That was one of the problems with this gig—mythological accounts tended to get distorted over time; just because it'd been recorded somewhere didn't mean it was the absolute truth. Everything from holly to caraway was supposedly meant to ward off spirits and Sam couldn't say any of that had been confirmed. Salt was quick and easy to obtain, so most hunters never bothered with anything else, especially since it wasn't the brightest idea to do a test run of what will or will not save my ass while facing off with a ghost.

Sam leaned forward on one of the plant-filled counters as he kept a casual eye on the entrance, waiting for someone matching the description he'd been giving to come through. He had no idea how this conversation was gonna go. He'd probably get the information easy enough so that wasn't his concern, but whoever it was, the guy was...Sam didn't want to call him an idiot, but he sounded hopelessly naïve. Which sort of encapsulated the whole damn problem about their situation, didn't it? Abilities aside, most of the population were probably just civilians; he and Dean could only hunt so much at a time, even without adding the fact that their arsenal consisted of basically nothing.

And frankly, it was hard to put priority on protecting strangers when there was the entire issue with Dean. His brother came first—fixing the deal, Lilith, all of that. It came first. That wasn't even a question. But a part of him still felt guilty for not being able to bring himself to care as much about a bunch of civilians in danger as he knew he should've.

Lowering his eyes briefly to the primrose in front of him, he fingered a wilted petal absently and frowned when it came off in his hand.

[can has zexy tiems?]
Edited 2009-04-10 05:31 (UTC)

[identity profile] remnantsofflame.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 06:49 am (UTC)(link)
Asch had wanted to just go back to his room and be alone. It didn't seem like Mello was coming back; no one had seen him, and Asch hadn't been able to find him all day. It would have been nice to get some time alone. But no. Here he was, in some indoor garden, as annoyed as he'd been since he woke up.

This day was bullshit, as far as he was concerned. The replica. Mistaken identity. Jason pissing him off at lunch. Right, like he and the replica were twins. Just the thought of the words made him bristle all over again. He knew they looked alike. Of course they did. But that wasn't the point.

He moved to a corner of the greenhouse, filled with some kind of flower he couldn't name, and just...stood there. No one else was really around the area, and he liked it that way. Maybe he could just think for a minute.

[Cross, iirc.]
scarefaux: (Default)

[personal profile] scarefaux 2009-04-10 07:20 am (UTC)(link)
While he was relieved to know the unconscious girl from the previous night was in good health, the Scarecrow was a little glad to escape from the conversation. Talking about homes being burned to the ground made him terribly uncomfortable. Things started looking up when the nurse led him outside and into a strange glass house filled with plants. He stopped following her to take it all in- it was truly breath-taking. He smiled as he thought about how well he'd liked the Recreational Field- this was even better!

His nurse called his institute-given name and he returned to her side, watching some of the other men as they picked at various bulbs and blossoms. She handed him a watering can and left him near some brightly colored flowers- he wasn't sure of the variety, but they were lovely. He took a deep breath. The smell of fresh air was replaced with the smell of soil and greenery, but those fragrances were just as sweet to the Scarecrow.

Taking a look around at some of the other activities occurring in the house, the Ozian wondered how much water he should be giving these blooms. These didn't seem like the talking sort of flora, so they couldn't tell him themselves when they were no longer thirsty. Shrugging, he gingerly tipped the watering can, allowing some of the water to pour from the spout before moving onto the next flower.

[Unknowingly awaiting a Chocoholic]

[identity profile] lossofface.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 12:40 pm (UTC)(link)
Blitzwing frowned deeply as the intercom came to life again, delivering yet another completely nonsensical message. Was this really the mastermind behind their captivity? It didn't seem possible for someone so obviously incompetent. Perhaps Landel was actually a front for the real power behind the institution, or he was taking pains to hide his real prowess for some reason...? Whatever was really going on, he and and his associates would pay dearly once Blitzwing came back into his own. If Lugnut had learned anything useful about torturing humans by then, perhaps they could put his knowledge into practice on Landel, and find out what the real purpose behind all this seeming insanity was...

Entertained as he was by such thoughts, Blitzwing didn't really notice or care where the nurse was taking him this time. Though Scourge seemed to have regained some of his coherence while Blitzwing spoke to him on the bulletin board, his relative usefulness for the rest of the day was still in doubt. Blitzwing would keep any eye out for him, just in case, but he wasn't about to waste his time searching for him -- WERE THOSE FLOWERS?

Oh wow, so this is what they meant by a "greenhouse?" It kind of made a little sense, there certainly was a lot of green lying around, but there was also brown and yellow and red and wow! It was all so pretty! Blitzwing wanted to touch everything, but -- right, right, he didn't want to attract any unwanted attention from the nurses, which he might by too much jumping around. So he settled for grabbing a watering can instead, humming to himself as he slowly moved down one of the potted rows.

[identity profile] thyapocalypse.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 04:04 pm (UTC)(link)
The 'incident' he had found himself caught up in was utterly humiliating. Getting involved in such an undignified brawl was bad enough without having the nurses interfere before he could have finished the fight once and for all. (And he would have been the one to strike the last blow, of course.)

Instead of continuing the fight for as long as it was needed, Van had been drugged -- drugged -- and sent off to eat another unappetizing meal alone. Thankfully the sedatives helped ebb the humiliation somewhat. He didn't care about the black eye he now had or the fact that his nose was likely not as straight as it once was.

However, once fourth shift began the sedatives began to slowly wear off. Though everything was duller than usual, he still had the mind to leave a message for Asch on the bulletin and to continue on to the Green Room. Though gardening was not his forte, Pere had taught him enough that he could still do the basics without making a fool of himself. Repotting seedlings wasn't difficult work by any means, but it was enough to give his hands something to do and his mind something else to focus on.

[free~]
idolism: (there is limitless potential here)

[personal profile] idolism 2009-04-10 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
[For a Wolf.]

There was no place in Landel's he truly liked in the day or night--in fact, he almost preferred the cold, silent wasteland outside, where the mist had been unnaturally thick and the trees had creaked strangely. It'd suited his feelings in an equally strange way. The building in full daylight could be stifling, irritating, and far too tempting sometimes, and the greenhouse's close quarters and humidity was worse than that of the Sun Room. But... the cloying smell of tilled earth and the vegetation, however poorly tended, could be more pleasing.

I need a bath, a part of him complained, but he swallowed it. Discomfort was just something he had to keep ignoring.

The vampire picked his way through the greenhouse until he came to a spot that was both out of the way and unoccupied, giving a table of roses a cursory glance. He wasn't here to give attention to the flowers--they were as out of place as he was, and that sort of thing was for the gardens at home. Now he was waiting for Wolfram and, if all went well, returning to the basement. After he took care of his own personal problems.

[identity profile] tony-castaway.livejournal.com 2009-04-10 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Even if he were left alone the entire afternoon, Tony wouldn't mind. He needed a chance to think things through, especially about Kvothe. But he gathered up a few pots, gloves, tools, dirt and a few small plants that needed pots. The leaves smelled good, like herbs maybe, though he couldn't tell what they were. They weren't any of the poisonous plants Tia had forced him to learn about before going to Heron Lake.

He couldn't help humming a bit to himself as he started working.

[free]

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