01 - handwritten and voice

[somedaytogether]

[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.

Comments

[somedaytogether]

Purple, blue, green, black. And all the usual colours as well - red and orange and yellow and white and pink and lavender. And don't ask me how I know this, but I feel like I could breed an even greater range, if I want.

They also have unusual scents. The blue ones smell, oh maybe like childhood sweets. The green ones smell bitter and heavy. I can't think of a good comparison - like chemically treated paper burning? The black ones smell like incense and rot. They're pretty creepy. I think the others might smell strange as well, but I haven't checked.

To be honest, it's all a bit overwhelming.

[scramasax]

[Even as little as he knows about plants he's imagining everything as described - and it's the component of the scents that pulls him back down from as much of the levity into being more properly intrigued.

Though it distracts his picking up, however, he manages to avoid it dragging down his tone, in itself.]

It -- can be. [Reflexive quick nod on his end, not that it'll be seen.] ...Plenty of us are -- learning - things - that we... couldn't have learned normally. Or... suddenly gaining -- unnatural abilities. -- ...Or changing shape.

It uh... often - isn't easy -- to get used to.

[somedaytogether]

Changing shape? That sounds pretty horrific. It must have been very difficult to get used to that. I mean, roses are weird, but they're not painful or dangerous. I guess I should be grateful for that.

I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you sound very hesitant about these pulses. Have yours been very difficult?

[scramasax]

[Freezing pang of embarrassment at the second to the last sentence.

Goes all the more stuck on the question.]

-- I'm sorry if I'm hesitant - ma'am. ...Some of mine have been. -- But it's -- more that - I'm... not very good, at - explaining these things... still.

[somedaytogether]

[Damage control necessary. Rita fidgets quite a bit as she speaks, much more flustered than usual.]

Oh no, that was really stupid of me! I wanted to reassure you, and I go and put my foot in my mouth instead.

But please, don't worry about how you express yourself. I'm very unlikely to be offended.

[scramasax]

[Likewise flustered, and flinching - that must've sounded much more defensive than it was actively intended to...]

-- No! It's -- not that I -- am -- uncomfortable... with you asking! I'm -- just sorry that I'm - speaking so badly when... I said that I could try giving you answers. [Hopefully his sincerity comes through on that one adequately!

Another move to apologize, establish ease.]

...I'm Anthony -- ...by the way.

[somedaytogether]

Oh, don't worry, you've been very helpful. I have no complaints.

[Introductions. What a lovely, non-awkward topic of conversation. Thank you Anthony.]

I'm Rita. Or Amrita. Whichever you prefer.

[scramasax]

Which do you prefer, ma'am? [A little quiet and hasty, but hopefully still sufficiently not an awkward question.]

[somedaytogether]

[[OOC: Damn, I lost this tag! I'm sorry for the delay.]]

Hmmm... Rita, I suppose? I'm more used to that name here. Whichever you choose, though, ma'am is definitely out of the question! I'm not your teacher - or at least I don't think I am.

[scramasax]

((OOC: Ah not a problem in the remotest~))

If, er - you say so -- Rita. ...Do you teach? -- Somewhere?

[somedaytogether]

Yes. I'm a lecturer in Horticulture at LCU. Though I only actually teach two classes. Most of my work is research.

How about you?

[scramasax]

I'm in high school -- last year was my first year... -- at Locke City High.

There are a -- number of us from there -- ...It's, um. [This comes treading out slowly, he's not sure if it's a silly comment, but tries it casually.] ...Been an -- interesting... way - to make friends.

[somedaytogether]

Interesting? You could say that. I remember that period being very fraught. You don't necessarily have anything in common with your classmates, and you're also trying to figure out who you are - and I don't imagine that's helped by getting someone else's memories.

If it's any consolation, I went to a boarding school, which really intensified a lot of those problems. So at least you don't have to deal with that?

[scramasax]

[He's already piecing together another thought - but the first thing to come out is this.] Because you're -- on your own - more... At a boarding school.

[Gentle pseudo-statement made as a confirmative question.]

[somedaytogether]

That too, though I was thinking more of the fact that you don't have any relief. Your classmates are also the people you eat and sleep with, and the people you spend all your free time with. It's hard to get away.

[Rita managed it all right, and still sends Christmas cards to some of her old friends, but she was glad to leave.]

[scramasax]

[A light acknowledging "Oh..."

He isn't going to go and say that he may have some sense of what that may be like.

Still attempting to deliver this as gently-casually as possible.] It's er -- true - that I don't... have much in common with most of my new friends... except for this. We -- actually talked about this once. It's like -- knowing we're together in - being a part of -- something... bigger than ourselves.

And because we can't -- talk about it... with just anyone -- we... can't - "escape" - each other... either.

-- But I think it's been... good - to know. More than not...

[somedaytogether]

Well, that's not so unusual. Even in a job you have to deal with people you don't have much in common with.

But it is nice, that feeling of connection. And overall, I'm inclined to agree with you. This situation is absurd, and sometimes scary, but it's also very exciting.