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[chlorophylliac]

Since the vampire and now the angel have both resigned their posts but thoughtfully left the door unlocked, I'm adopting the greenhouse and garden.

At least, until one of you idiots decides I'm turning them into my own personal fortress and threatens to hose me down with herbicide.

[Or, more pragmatically, until another Warden gets a key. Of course she can't access the gardening tools, but…she's not the kind of person to be inconvenienced by that.]

[Private to Zev]

There's enough space to seed some of the excess from our collection. Do you have any preferences? I can make chemical adaptations to the soil as necessary.

[Private to Morgana]

I've heard you returned.

Do you remember anything?

[Open spam]

[It's raining lightly on deck, the shower a soft constant drumbeat on the glass overhead. Ivy's still damp from crossing the deck to get here, but the rain and the humidity inside the greenhouse are pleasant, even rejuvenating.

All she's got to do today is basic maintenance. She's mapping plants and soil types in a notebook, occasionally deadheading the spring-flowering plants, and checking for early indicators of disease. Nothing so far; Castiel knew his work. Still, it's nothing to reach into the more vulnerable species and rethread a few strands of DNA, decreasing their susceptibility.

Not having access to the greenhouse equipment cupboard is only irritating insofar as it's also where the less dangerous resources - seed trays, watering cans - are kept. So she's liberated both from her own cabin, along with some fertilizer she made herself, and spends a little time readying a few trays to grow seedlings for the outdoor garden.

It's all easy, meditative work, and it would be quiet if not for the hum and chatter of the plants all around her.]

Comments

[spam]

[godsays]

[ He has stopped short in the entrance to the greenhouse. Heedless of the rain - he hardly notices it. His attention is fixed, however, on what he sees before him.

The plants are so green that they hurt his eyes. Hardly any an ordinary brown or grey. What a bizarre color - it's like suddenly seeing the sky as a bright yellow, or water becoming orange. And yet there is so much of it, layers and varieties of green, darker and brighter, paler and bolder.

This is without a doubt the strangest sight he has perceived thus far. ]

[spam]

[chlorophylliac]

[When he comes in, Ivy's mostly hidden behind a supporting column, encouraging a climbing rose to stay on its own trellis instead of encroaching on other plants.

She perceives the new arrival as a ripple in the voices of the plants, and steps out to get a look. Needless to say, except for the hair she's the same vivid green as the plants surrounding her.

He looks - surprised. Stunned, even. By the presence of the plants on the Barge, their species and nature - their existence at all?]

You're new here.

[It's a statement, not a question, but frankly she doesn't pay much attention and she could be wrong.]

[godsays]

[ He glances to her, notices her skin, and briefly wonders if he's hallucinating. If the voice has been replaced by something else.

No; that doesn't make sense.

His lips part, as though he's about to speak, and then his mouth closes again. He drifts further into the greenhouse, but doesn't touch any of the plants. Lets his eyes rest on them, in turn. He wishes he had tin to burn, to enhance the senses. He feels numb and blind without it. ]

Why are they... like this? [ He struggles with the question. It just seems so absurd to him. ]

[chlorophylliac]

[She raises her eyebrows.]

If you want me to answer that you'll have to explain what 'this' is.

[godsays]

Green.

The colors.

[chlorophylliac]

[Eyebrows aren't going down any time soon.]

Do you have plants where you're from? Living plants?

[godsays]

Yes. [ His tone is careful, slow, as though he thinks the answer is obvious. ]

[chlorophylliac]

Hm.

[She leans one hip against the column, folding her arms.]

These plants contain a green chemical that absorbs sunlight as part of their feeding process. Hence the colors.

[She gives him a look that suggests 'now you explain why your plants aren't green'.]

[godsays]

What about the other ones?

[ He nods towards a set of blooms. ]

Their leaves aren't green.

[ Guess who's never seen a flower before. ]

[chlorophylliac]

They are, but you're looking at the flowers. They're reproductive organs.

[Her brow furrows. What is even going on with the plants in your world, strange man.]

How do plants survive in your world if they're not green and don't flower?

[godsays]

Flowers. [ An unfamiliar word; he tests it, on his tongue.

Looks back to her. ] I don't know. They're ordinary. Brown, or grey. How do these survive ashfalls?

[ And it occurs to him, belatedly, that this is somewhat of a ridiculous question, given that they're indoors. ]

I mean - how would they survive. [ Obviously ashfalls aren't an issue if there's a roof. ]

[chlorophylliac]

[Her expression shifts a little, from plain confusion to academic interest.]

It's possible they wouldn't. That's not a phenomenom I'm familiar with.

[godsays]

Ash doesn't fall here?

[chlorophylliac]

No. Not here, and not on my world.

[Well, volcanic fallout is a thing but it's quite rare.]

[godsays]

So you don't have ashmounts.

[ He's drifting further in. Perhaps acclimating himself to the conversation, and to the plants, at the same time. ]

Are you green for the same reason?

[chlorophylliac]

Yes. [Not a whole lot to elaborate on that point.] What's your name?

[godsays]

Zane.

They look softer, too. The stems seem fragile.

[chlorophylliac]

Some grow more rigid with time. Others are only intended to live long enough to reproduce. [She tilts her head.] What is an ashmount?

[godsays]

[ He reaches out a hand, touches one of the stems. Finger gliding up the curve of it. ]

Mountains. They spew ash - it's always falling from the sky.

Otherwise the sunlight would be too harsh.

[chlorophylliac]

[As she'd suspected, then.]

We call them volcanoes, in my world. Ashfalls are relatively rare, but they're disastrous to the environments they effect - they acidify the water and starve the soil. Almost any plant in here would be smothered and killed.

[godsays]

Then everything in the Final Empire would have died.

[ His fingers tense; he's considering snapping off a stalk. ]

[chlorophylliac]

[Her gaze flickers down to where he's touching the flower stem.]

Don't.

[godsays]

[ He pauses. ]

Why not?

[chlorophylliac]

Because if you kill something just because it can't defend itself then we're going to have a problem.

[godsays]

Breaking one stem will kill it?

[ A genuine question. He's surprised the plants are that weak. ]