chlorophylliac | 30 ❦ Video

30 ❦ Video

[Ivy is sitting in the lovingly upgraded greenhouse, on the edge of the fountain pool she's created at the centre, and absolutely nobody was surprised. There's a plant/animal hybrid on her lap; anatomically a small rabbit, but what it's covered with is more like moss than fur and its eyes are completely black.]

The first greenhouses used on Earth were recorded by Pliny the Elder, two thousand years before my time.

The Roman Emperor Tiberius wanted cucumbers all year round, so, his gardeners made it happen. Their specularium predated the invention of glass; they used oiled cloth or sheets of mica. They weren't used constantly, only at night, to protect the plants from the cold after they'd had the benefit of the sunlight during the day.

More sophisticated versions appeared over a thousand years later. The Vatican, in the thirteenth century, to house plants brought as trophies from tropical exploration. Korea, two centuries afterward. What my contemporaries would consider a modern greenhouse didn't appear until the eighteen-hundreds.

By my time, commercial technology allows plants to be grown out of season, thousands of miles from the environments where they evolved, untroubled by parasites or predators or the vagaries of the weather. Even the most diseased specimens can heal in a place designed for precisely that.

[She falters, briefly, gaze going out of focus. It looks like she's fighting something off, consciously or otherwise.]

Which is perfectly fine, if all you want is something that will thrive in an artificial environment. But when you return it to its home -- with all the threats and dangers that plant is subject to --

[Ivy tunes out again, gaze going flat and empty.]

The following Warden and Inmate have been paired:

A.J. Crowley //

sauntervaguelydownwards → Arthas Menethil //

darknessb4me

The warden should expect a file to be delivered to his cabin shortly. Please familiarize yourself with the information therein and introduce yourself to your new Inmate as soon as possible.

[She blinks slowly, coming back to herself.]

Sometimes the rot runs particularly deep, of course. I hope you'll be very happy together.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And when their thing is hurting women?

... Look, I’m not saying I let people walk all over me. Okay? I know how to stand up for myself. You know how many fights in I been in with people? Fistfights? Plenty of 'em have been with guys.

I'm not saying otherwise.

What I'm saying is that if you accept that men can't regulate their own behaviour, you absolve them of responsibility. And when it comes to placing blame, it's a question of -

'He killed her but he couldn't help himself. She shouldn't have made him angry.'

'He raped her but he couldn't help himself. She shouldn't have dressed like that.'

[Pause.

Paaaaaaaause.]

I don't know why we're talking about this. It's kinda giving me a headache.

[Ivy goes quiet for a few moments.]

Have I intruded on something?

What do you mean?

What do you think I mean?

Well, I was murdered. That's how I got here, 'cause I used to be an inmate.

[She knows that's not what Ivy means. She also knows she could cut off this conversation right here, right now. But she doesn't, and she isn't sure why.]

Murdered by a man?

No. She was a girl. It was a girl's prison, Ivy; of course I wasn't murdered by a man.

Obviously I'm underestimating the integrity of the staff.

But if you were killed by a woman, then no; that isn't what I'm talking about.

Yeah.

I mean, I have had bad sex sometimes. I ain't gonna lie about that. Everybody does.

[There's another long pause, and Ivy thinks perhaps this is better left alone -- but there's obviously a part of Tiffany that wants to talk about this, that perhaps even anticipates her opinion. She could have hung up a long time ago.]

How bad?

You want me to tell you about every time I had sex that wasn't very good?

Tiffany.

We both know that isn't what you were thinking when you said 'bad sex'.

If you don't want to prolong this conversation, you don't have to, but don't try to deflect.

[When Ivy calls her out, she immediately goes from flat and detached to stressed and emotional. Ivy is right on both counts - and Tiffany doesn't like that.]

I don't know what I want, Ivy; you're fucking confusing me! And-- and if you don't want to prolong it, you don't have to either; you can hang up right now and we can both pretend this didn't ever happen, because it's fucking weird.

[Ivy's voice goes very gentle; there's a maternalism there that hasn't surfaced for months.]

I'm going to say one very simple thing, then. If you want to hang up, you can; if you don't, I'm in the greenhouse and I promise not to hurt you no matter what you say or do.

Whatever happened to you, it was not your fault.

... Shut up. You fucking piss me off, you know that? I really, really, really, really don't like you. You're just-- you-- you're trying to fuck with my head. This is some revenge 'cause you think I told everyone what you did in Paris. You think I'm stupid? I'm not gonna fall for that. Trying to fucking brainwash me. You want me to be just like you - bitter and angry and hating everyone.

[Angry words aside, her tone isn't actually all that mad or hateful - she sounds overwhelmed and confused, and is taking that out on Ivy because she doesn't know what else to do. The only angry part comes when she slams her phone down, turning it off.

She doesn't come that day, nor does she try to contact Ivy again. But the day after, she quietly opens the greenhouse door and slips inside. Ivy may very well be furious with her, she thinks. She'd said she wouldn't hurt her, but that was before Tiffany had accused her of trying to manipulate and brainwash her. Now, she might yell at her to get out, or grab her by the neck again, or even just calmly and frankly tell her that by insulting her, Tiffany had voided her offer for a talk.

Tiffany isn't even sure she wants a talk. Ivy's words have been running through her head ever since their conversation, and she's resentful of that. Things had been a lot easier before, when she never thought about this stuff.

She doesn't call out Ivy's name, or do anything to try to get her attention. She just walks around, trying to see if she can spot her anywhere. It's hard, sometimes. She blends in so well with the plants.]

[The presence of those plants is, of course, why it's impossible to avoid getting Ivy's attention. And honestly, she's a little surprised. Unless Tiffany's Admiral'd herself a tank of Agent Orange and is here to get herself killed - her truce does not extend to any attempts made against her plants - Ivy can barely imagine what it is she's doing here.

Though Tiffany wouldn't be the only one to lash out, when what she really wants is someone who'll take it and still talk to her.

After a few moments' observation she makes herself known, emerging from a small cluster of trees Tiffany's just passed by, and clears her throat quietly.]

Edited 2015-06-17 07:38 (UTC)

[Tiffany turns around to face Ivy, crossing her arms over her chest and just watching her for a moment before she speaks.]

... So you wanna punch me? Like in the face? I figured I'd make you that offer, 'cause I said something awful to you.

I didn't lie to you.

[Ivy lifts her eyebrow.]

You're acknowledging that it was awful. That's enough.

[Tiffany pulls her arms tighter around herself, frowning. She hadn't realized it until now, but she'd made a little internal deal with herself. If Ivy lashed out and yelled and told her to leave, Tiffany had decided that that would mean that she'd been lying - that she really had only been saying those things to provoke a reaction, and so all of it could be thoroughly dismissed.

But Ivy isn't lashing out or yelling. Which, according to Tiffany's own theory, means...]

... You know, Ivy, I couldn't eat dinner last night? Yeah. I tried, but it all didn't want to go down right. And then I woke up in the middle of the night and puked. That's kinda your fault, 'cause you put some stuff in my head and now I can't get it out.

I'm sorry.

[Her posture is less tense and defensive than Tiffany will have ever seen it.]

...I don't think I put anything in your head. Drew attention to something that was already there, perhaps. But I'm sorry.

I like sex.

[Blunt and matter-of-fact.]

Just so you know, I like sex a lot. I have it a lot when I can. If all that stuff you was talking about had ever happened to me, I'd probably hate it, huh. And men. 'Cause that's what happens - I knew a girl in high school whose stepdaddy touched her, everybody knew it, and she tried to off herself by swallowing pills. Had to go to a special hospital.

I have never wanted to do anything like that.

Neither have I. And I like sex too.

[Ivy takes a few steps away, sitting down on a stone bench.]

And I didn't stop liking it when my boyfriend in college ignored me when I said I wasn't in the mood. Or when I was locked away for the first time, and one of the guards made my access to sunlight conditional on my willingness to go down on him.

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