Pamela Isley | Poison Ivy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chlorophylliac) wrote2013-04-14 03:43 pm
chlorophylliac) wrote2013-04-14 03:43 pm
20 || Video + Spam
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.]
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.]
[Private]
[Private]
[Private]