savetheearth | 01 - handwritten and voice

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01 - handwritten and voice

[The page is covered with notes on the roses she has been tending – measurements of growth, records of infections and fungus attacks, times of watering – everything that might be useful to the next generation of plants. Rita reaches over and scrawls the number at the bottom of the page, and then watches in disbelief as half the notes disappear beneath a wall of text.

She reads carefully over as many of the old posts as she can, following the links to the FAQ. As she reads, she mutters out loud to herself.]

This is so weird. It seems so impossible, and yet it’s happening. I’m sure it is happening. I haven’t gone mad, though the world might have. And the roses. How do I explain them? Why do they feel so familiar?

[She realizes that this is being transmitted.]

Well that’s awkward. My apologies to anyone who runs across this. I didn't realize how, ah, flexible the system was. And if you are listening, then I suppose I should say nice to meet you.

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Roses, hmm? Nice. Congratulations and condolences. You've found yourself part of the Numbers Club!

They really are pretty. Though they are giving my inner horticulturist a bit of a headache.

Thank you, I think. Do you have any advice?

Edited 2013-08-12 03:30 (UTC)

Lol! How so? Well I think all the important stuff is in the FAQ [Jules doesn't know she's seen it already. Pretend I linked it here, I'm too lazy to find it myself rn. :P] - careful what you say to who, don't trust the police, come to LSR if you want discreet medical treatment, be aware that you may start to mutate or remember terrible things or both... Ah, also right now it might be good if you either avoid tap water, or only drink some if you've got no pressing business for some time. A good bit of the city's water supply has been contaminated and makes you start laughing uncontrollably, and gets you what some of us are calling a pulse.

Well I have several blue roses here, for one thing, and roses don't come in blue. They don't have the gene to make that colour possible. And the green roses are even worse, because green colours in plants are produced by chlorophyll, which isn't generally found in the flowers. In an odd way, the black roses are the most plausible, though real "black" roses are just dark red.

Thank you for the tip about the water. I'll go buy some bottles, I guess. The pulses are the, uh, weird moments, right?

Huh. Well, that *is* odd. I've always heard blue roses were impossible. Aren't there green carnations, though? lol, the other me - the mysterious stranger I seem to be getting memories and body parts from - answers to the Apostle of the Violet Rose. That's right! Aka extras or echoes. Bathing seems to be fine but drinking a cup or so really isn't, no matter what you do to it first.

There are some bred green flowers - they're usually a kind of hot lime - but it takes a lot of effort. And roses don't have the gene for that either.

I, hmm, well don't take this the wrong way, but that's kind of a tacky name. Though if you would like some violet roses I am happy to give them away.

[Rita's going to be pretty embarrassed about her judgey attitude when she discovers what she used to be called.]

Bathing good, drinking bad! Sounds manageable.

lol, I know. Like the dashing love interest in a shoujo manga! I do like it, but not for me. And... huh. Yeah sure, why not! Just not rn, kind of killing time on a stakeout. Right! It doesn't have any effect that we can see on normies, whether they're animals or humans or whatever. Just Numbers Club people. BTW, I'm Julien.

Oh my. [Rita tries not to laugh and fails.] That's quite the burden to live up to! I hope you're suitably chivalrous.

A stakeout? What are you watching?

That is weird. And medically unlikely. And I'm Amrita. Though mostly I go by Rita in America.

I'll have to do my best to keep from breaking the hearts of all the ladies and gentlemen who'll fall for me sooner or later. ^_~ The reservoir, actually. We want to find out who's dumping the contaminant into the city's water supply. Of course that does mean waiting. Don't I know it. Hello! Amrita's such a pretty name, but if you prefer Rita here in the States that's lovely too!

I believe standard procedure is to brood magnificently until you meet your true love? At which point you act like you hate her.

Oh, well I hope you succeed! It would be nice not to have to worry about unexpected bouts of laughter.

Thank you. And if you really like Amrita you can call me that. I don't mind.

Hmm. Couldn't I be the endlessly charming one and act like my true love is just another of the people I talk to? Brooding is work! lol thanks. It's starting to look like no one expected us to sneak out here, but there could be a trap somewhere, still.

If you like! I think they tend to lose in love triangles though, so you may have to weigh up the benefits.

That's weird. I mean, if you put something in the water, you would surely expect people to check the resevoir. Where else would they look?

I think if the setting's one where just about everyone has normal hair colors, going with blue pretty much means I *have* to be more happy and ridiculous. Right? Well it was surprisingly hard to dig up info on the city's water supply. Wasn't hidden, just not advertised anywhere. And our unknown enemy might have not expected us to figure this out so fast, they've underestimated us before. But that's a good point.

You have blue hair? I should give you a blue rose then.

[A long pause.]

I have no idea why I just said that. Sorry.

Either way, I hope you stay safe.

[Not knowing the significance of the pause Julien texts during it.]

Why not both? I'm man enough to admit to liking flowers. Alas, I've no one to give them to currently, but my sister and niece might like to see them anyway. Special ladies in their own rights.

[Ah.]

Don't worry about it, no harm done. Thanks, me too!

I have to admit, I'm kind of hoping to give all the roses away. But don't take them if you don't want them. I'd never want to impose.

[Amrita almost doesn't say anything else, but she has to talk to someone about this, and oops, Julien is a listening ear.]

You know, when the roses appeared, I was with the head of my department. He was off to a college dinner, and he asked me to give him a rose for his suit. So I did, and it was yellow, pretty close to his hair colour actually. And just now I wanted to give you a blue rose, and you have blue hair too.

I don't even know what I'm thinking. What kind of memory would be strongly connected to giving people roses? I don't even especially like roses.

I don't think it's a real imposition if it's not like a carfull and the person's not allergic! Maybe the other you just likes matching flowers to people. Someone with a strong aesthetic sense? These things are always confusing. What if I said my hair was naturally mostly black and I bleach and dye it, and I've really got to make an appointment soon to get my roots?

That's a pretty weird hobby for her to have. But as a hypothesis, it seems perfectly reasonable.

I guess I would find the hair dye comforting.

Thank you for being so sensible about this. I guess I just find the whole transition of having another person in my head unnerving. I'm very used to being me.

lol, good, I was a little afraid you'd offer black and white roses too. :P Oh, it's very unnerving! I know just one person who doesn't find himself and the person in his memories to feel different at all. That would make things so much easier. The Apostle seems so coolly focused, not like me at all, but I keep getting pieces of his mind. Guess I'll be more useful if I'm more like him, but... yeesh.

I have them if you want them, but they might be a bit much. Besides, the black roses... well they smell strange. Like incense and rot. Although that said, hold on-

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I have them if you want them, but they might be a bit much. Besides, the black roses... well they smell strange. Like incense and rot. Although that said, hold on-

<small<[Amrita ducks off and sniffs at the purple rose.}</small>

Yes, the purple roses smell strange as well. I caught wine and musk and poppies and metal. And the blue roses smell like old-fashioned sweets and sunshine. There must be a logic behind them, but I can't figure it out.

I don't think being useful is worth giving up your self for. I certainly know <i>I</i> couldn't make that choice.

No, no, two colors is good enough for me! And that all is decidedly weird. Hardly the strangest thing going, but worth noting all right. It seems to be out of my hands. Maybe I'm already not myself. But there are people I care about here. Even if the Apostle wouldn't care, he'd still want to protect them, and be better at it than I am.

((OOC omg damn you html. You betray me again.))

Yes. I'll keep an eye on them, and see what conclusions I can draw.

That's very noble of you. But something in me says that it's a bad idea. That you're better off staying yourself, even if that means you can't protect everyone.

I don't know why I think that though.

((It's a treacherous creature!))

Hmm. I know I'm changing, as a person I mean. I don't think I'd be doing this a few month ago. What's the other me and what's just me, though? Sometimes it's hard to tell.

I suppose all you can hope for is to do the best you can, and make the best decisions available to you.

[And then she laughs, because sometimes, what else can you do?]

Lol, pretty much! I try not to worry about things I can't change or prepare for. There are too many to keep track of, I'd just get overwhelmed!

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