2021-08-14 Green Thumbs in the Greenhouse
Green Thumbs in the Greenhouse
Participants: Corey Gia Jeremy
Location: The Greenhouse at the Sept of the Smiling Angel
Date and Time: August 14th, 2011
Summary: Corey and Gia meet and garden. Jeremy shows up for a bit and makes an offer.
The chill of the city above has made its way into tunnels below. Cold air does that, you know. It sinks. Slips through cracks in the rocks and flows like water down stream. It's even enough to create a bit of a meaningful breeze, that cold air. The swirling motion of this new air displacing the old, and bringing some of the smells of chilly city with it. But the Greenhouse is Warm. Hot, even. Hot enough that Corey's pulled her hoody off of her torso and left it on a chair somewhere at the far end of the room. A sports bra and yoga pants with running shoes seems to be her usual attire, though admittedly with either a track jacket or hoody pulled over.
She's currently standing by one of the tables with a few dozen empty pots laid out in front of her. Pretty and pristine as she is, she doesn't seem to mind getting her hands dirty. Manicured fingernails dig into soil from a bulk bin as she takes some time to fill each pot. One by one. They're roughly five inches in diameter, and look quite suitable for planting seeds to create starters.
She's humming something beneath her breath. An old sounding tune, and not one easily placed. Perhaps a song shared between a mother and her daughter.
Chill there might be but fur always mitigates this. After entering the tunnels within the bawn the chartreuse haired metis known among humans as Giada Nash transforms into her crinos form after which her hooves begin to clip clop along the tunnel floor.
Verdigris Claws, as she is known among the garou, traverses one tunnel to another until she reaches the greenhouse. Ducking her horned head to keep from clipping the entrance with the keratin and bone growths, the metis doesn't notice the occcupant until the sound of Corey's humming reaches her right before she returns to a fully upright stance.
<Greetings Sept-mate,> the minotaur-like metis says. Clawed hand to her chest the vibrantly colored crinos introduces herself: <Verdigris Claws, Bone Gnawer Philodox.> Another wave of her hand is accompanied by, <Metis of course. Also known as> "Giada Nash" <in homid form and parlance.>
Corey's aware of Verdigris Claws the moment the metis enters the greenhouse. Massive, threatening figure with minotaur-like horns aside, there's something that shifts in the air of the space when her sept-mate joins her. Corey's eyes lift from the task at hand and towards the brightly-colored crinos introducing herself. Frosty blue irises flick over towards that clawed hand, and then up to meet the gaze of the other. Her tone is fairly neutral and unthreatening. Though her homid body is ill-equipped to communicate in that subtle, nonverbal manner, Corey is able to understand the other.
"Hello, sister. I've seen you before, I think. At one of the meetings. I wanted to introduce myself then, but it's been a..." Corey's expression shifts subtly. That's how the homid form communicates. Her lips twist a little to the side and she briefly looks away. "Well, it's been a hard couple weeks for most of us, I think. Anyway."
Corey takes a small step forward and opens her body up to Verdigris Claws. Body language is warm, pleasant, and friendly. She even extends a hand, even if it's tiny in comparison to the crinos' claw.
"Corey Fischer. Uh. Cub name is... Tater-Tot. It was that or Hot-Dish, I guess, and I think I preferred this one. Only marginally," Corey says, and then laughs. "Cliath of the half moon, and one of Gaia's Children. It's nice to meet you, Verdigris Claws."
"Tater-Tot," the metis says in mangled English. <Haven't earned a rited name then, but that's okay. I, too, am a Cliath.>
She stops speaking and tilts her head to one side for a moment then shifts back to homid in which she is also wearing Spandex bike shorts and a sports bra. Hanging over her shoulder is an olive green bag against her hip where, in crinos, there was a darker patch of fur. From the bag she takes out an oversized pull over hoodie. Taking off the bag and setting it down at her feet she pulls the top on.
Slightly muffled at first she asks, "How long since your first change if I may ask, Corey?"
Corey's eyes follow Verdigris Claws' own as she shifts from Crinos to Homid, and there's a visible sort of tension that de-winds from Corey's spine at a more familiar sort of face. There's something about the Crinos that awakens some deep part of her hind brain. The homid brain that fears fire, spiders, and the dark. She exhales and turns her head to the side. "Mhm. Not yet. Maybe some day," Corey says, her tongue briefly licking out to wet her lips while. Her butt presses up against the side of the table that those half-filled pots lay strewn about. That current task seems, at least for now, put on the back burner.
"Four years. I was sixteen when it happened the first time. I think I... was lucky. Am lucky. I've never hurt anybody, even if I spent the longest time alone," Corey says. She pauses a moment, her eyes returning to Verdigris Claws once again.
"Your fur is very beautiful. I've never seen anything quite like it," Corey says.
Gia grins excitedly and exclaims, "Me too!" and then immediatly begins ot back petal while gesticulating apologetically, "Or... well, four years ago that is. I'm younger than you are though, I was nine." And then the comment about her fur causes her to blush. "Um, okay, wow. I have literally never been told the first... the other, yeah, okay, that I've heard before," she says more sedately.
There's a puzzled look on Corey's face when Gia admits that she's thirteen, but Smoke Eater has already explained to her how wolf ages work. It doesn't make it any easier for Corey to digest, of course. She just laughs a little and shrugs, waving off her compliment as if it's really just the truth. At least to Corey, it is. "It's a unique color. I always wanted to dye my hair. Blue or pink or something. I'm just a boring white when I shift," Corey says.
She turns her hip now to face the table again, and her fingertips begin helping her pack soil into one pot after another. "Do you garden much, Gia?"
And then she pauses, briefly tipping her head with a clump of dirt in her hand. "Sorry, do you prefer Verdigris Claws? I'm still new to all of this."
"I'll answer t'either, but its easier t'use human names in homid form I've found," Gia replies to the final question. "Thanks," she adds again about her hair and fur color before moving on.
"I've done some gardenin' sure. When you're a lowly metis cub you do all the chores around the caern. I greatly prefer cookin' however. Especially pit barbecuein'." As she answers this her expression goes from generally neutral to a broad grin while thoughts about barbecueing dance though her head.
Corey continues to pack soil into pot after pot. There's a good amount there. Probably around forty, and she's only a little under halfway done. But she doesn't seem to mind talking while she works, either. A small little smile touches her lips, even. For a half second, it seems like she's about to hum again, but whatever tune she's about to start gets stuck somewhere in her throat at the talk of barbeque. That gets her to look up from her work and lid her eyes a little.
"...Fuck, I love barbeque. Corn bread is one of my favorite things. I'm actually planting some jalapenos in this for cornbread. That was my mom's thing. A little jalapeno slice on the top of each square."
She continues packing again. Licking her lips. "I'm a bit nostalgic for it. Home. Before this, you know. Sometimes I wish I could go back. Anyway."
Corey trails off.
"The -real- question," she says, after a time, "Is what sort of barbeque? I know that sort of thing can be fighting words depending on where you go, but, like. I'm from Minnesota, so I have no skin in this one."
The question elicits a grin. "Eastern-style, of course," she says. "Every part of the hog except the squeal. No red sauce of course, a vinegar- and pepper-based sauce as well as a good dry rub is required. And as long as yer not adding sweatener t'yer corn bread yer makin' it right also."
Crouching down near the pots, Gia motions at them to wordlessly ask if she can help out. Her expression, seemingly practiced, asks what she can do if so.
Corey just giggles a little bit at Gia's strong opinions on barbeque. It's clear she's not as invested in it all, but that curiosity had been piqued. "I use my mom's recipe. I'd need to look at the little card to remember if there's sugar. I don't think so, though. Corn's kinda sweet enough as it is," Corey says. "...I mean, it's really like corn cake, really. I dunno why we pretend and call it bread."
Corey sees Gia's expression and purses her lips. "You wanna help? I'm just packing these with dirt so I can stick some seeds in 'em later," Corey says, and gestures to the little packets of pre-packaged and dried seeds she must have bought and dragged down here. Homids, man.
"I'm getting a bunch of peppers. I hope. I tried planting one in my apartment, but it died. I was real sad."
"Its more bread then the cake that Subway sells as bread," Gia counters with a smile as she grabs a pot of her own to start packing also. "Sure, mama called them cakes of cornbread often. Pancakes are a quickbread also, so... the language is somewhat fluid you see."
"Mmmmh," Corey says absently, tucking more and more soil into her pots as Gia explains the various intricacies of bread to her. She seems amused, and is clearly enjoying the conversation. There are topics she'd like to broach. Curious questions for the metis that the young woman quite can't wrap her head around. The day to day life. The intricacies of it all. The childhood. But she stays quiet. Hesitant, in a way, as she continues her work.
"I'm new to it all. This life. The people who found me said I was a lost cub. So if I'm... I don't know. A bit off, like. I don't mean anything by it. I'm just... yeah, new, I guess."
"Any Garou who wasn't born Metis is new to the life at first, Corey," Gia says calmly over the smell of potting soil. "Honestly, this isn't a subject I can help you with, but almost any other Garou who isn't a walking example of a violation of the first law of the Litany should be able to do so." She leans a little closer to the other Philodox and says, trying hard to not sound harsh, "Also, best to work on shaking the 'new' feeling and learn to adapt. Someone, some day, will see those words as a sign of weakness and take action to put you in your place. Then you'll have a harder time of everything."
"Miss Nash is right," says the man drifting in to the room, his windbreaker loose around his shoulders. "You'll find as much disdain as sympathy if you don't acclimate quickly. But - you won't lack for guides. Not in Smiling Angel." He's a bit short, asian, hair cropped close along the sides and a bit loose along the top. Bright orange tie, coke-bottle glasses. "If I remember properly from the briefing, you're Miss Fischer, yes? I'm Jeremy Yoon. Happy to make your acquaintances."
Gia's admonishment of Corey's words seems to surprise the girl, who gives the woman beside her a puzzled expression for a moment or two while she considers what to say in return. There's a sound that escapes her lips and throat. A gentle and delicate 'hmmmh', and she returns to packing dirt into her pots. "Maybe you're right. I guess I've never seen admitting a shortcoming as a sign of weakness," Corey says. Gia's closeness doesn't seem to perturb her, and though those words might hit some as harsh, it seems Corey assumes Gia's best intentions. A simple warning. "If that happens, I guess I'll have to take it in stride. Who knows, though. Maybe I'll put them in their place."
Corey gives a little giggle, and sets down the pot she'd just packed. They're nearly finished now.
Jeremy's entrance draws her attention. The young woman tips her head delicately to the side, watching him as he approaches. Cold, icy eyes lock to his even as her head cocks at that angle.
"It's nice to meet you too, Jeremy. Have you come all this way to lecture me, or are you something of a green thumb?" Corey asks. Her tone is... cheery and casual. Warm and inviting. So is her body language. She stands with her arms at her side, clasping the table behind her. Her torso and hips are oriented towards him. Open.
Gia nods and smiles. "I hope you do just that," she says about the Child of Gaia's suggestion. "Its just a simple fact about the society you now reside in is all Corey."
A nod is extended to Jeremy as he approaches and speaks as well. She remains crouched by the pots looking upward at the kinfolk and her fellow Philodox interacting before her. "Tanish they appear, more than baring the shade of my hair," she says softly as if a non-sequitor towards the pair.
Jeremy shakes his head. He reaches in to his coat, and takes out an envelope. "It is just a happy accident that we've bumped in to each other, Miss Fischer. I was coming here to deliver some seeds, as a courtesy to Mr. Zimmer," he says. "You should meet Mr. Zimmer. I think you'd like them."
"But I've come to offer more than lectures. I'm the legal attache to the sept, courtesy of Elder Wu; if you need assistance with any legal procedure, or false identification," he gives Gia a nod on this one, "Then I'm at your disposal. I imagine both of you have had your affairs disrupted by the move to Smiling Angel."
"I appreciate the concern, sister. It's quite kind of you," Corey says sideways to Gia. It seems entirely earnest. That same sort of earnestness that might have prompted the concern in the first place. She turns to look back to Jeremy, her smile returning to her face. Another warm little giggle at 'happy accident'. Maybe she likes the phrase. "Ooooh, what kind of seeds are they? I'm planting a bunch of stuff here. It's why I've got, uh," Corey gestures broadly to the forty-or-so starter pots she'd been filling with dirt with Gia's help.
Business first, it seems. The wolf's expression turns a bit more serious at Jeremy's offer, and she reaches up to delicately scratch at her cheek at the offer.
"That's very kind of you, Mr. Yoon. And, mmmh," Corey steps forward. She's dressed for the warmth of the greenhouse, but not the chill of the outdoors. A sports bra and high waisted yoga pants. Some cute running shoes, to boot. She extends a hand towards the man and, if taken, she'll give it a gentle squeeze with the shake.
"It hasn't been easy. Time was already a limiting factor, and now it's just... well. A bit impossible, really. I'll keep you in mind. You said you can do, like... fake ID's?"
Grabbing her bag from where she'd set it down, Gia pulls out a pair of pale grey sweat pants with a lime green streak down the outside of the legs. Pulling them on she makes sure to not tuck in the darker gray pull over hoodie and then extracts a pair of Doc Martins from the messenger bag - was there really enough room for them with how slack the sides were? - and sits down on the ground to put them on to her otherwise bare feet.
Now fully dressed over the bike shorts that had ben covering only her upper legs, Gia stands and slings her bag over her shoulder. "Good to meet you, Tater-Tot," she says with a smile before simply nodding to Jeremy and studiously not asking the man-with-a-day-glow-tie to help her get a fake ID.
"Yes, we have equipment at Wu Sun Pacific to produce them. It's the same equipment as used by the federal government," says Jeremy. He picks up on Gia's disinterest in the concept, and turns his attention to Corey for this: "As a courtesy to our neighbors at Smiling Angel, I'm happy to get you identification that will hold up to casual scrutiny." (OOCly: I can get you the Alternative Identity background at a modest discount of 4 xp per dot instead of 5.)
"At any rate, I'm happy to welcome you to Smiling Angel. I'm sure by now you've already had the full tour."
"Well, Mr. Yoon. I'll keep you in mind," Corey says. She smiles to Gia as the woman begins to depart, giving her a nod and lifting her hands up to rest against the back of her head. Her hair's worn down, natural blonde hair left to dangle just past her athletic, toned shoulders. She doesn't seem to mind the dirt in her fingertips touching up against her scalp.
"That can't be legal, though. Then again, I'm pretty sure I saw a girl with a gun that, like, -definitely- isn't legal." Corey pulls a breath in through her nose and lets her eyes linger on Jeremy Yoon for a little while longer, flicking over his facial features before turning back towards the pots in front of her.
"Nice to meet you, Gia. Take care and be safe. Do you want me to take those seeds for you, Mr. Yoon? I can stash them where I stash mine."
Gia nods in agreement. To which? Legalality? Keeping Mr. Yoon in mind? Both? No indications to clarify. "Well, I've got to go catch a bus and get back to the home of the LAPD detective who's putting me up now," she says with an intentionally mischevious grin on her face.
Jeremy smiles suddenly, and it's different from the smile before. The smile before was a customer service smile - genuine, but not sincere. This one is real, delighted, amused. "Oh, it's completely illegal," he says, laughter in his voice. "I can tell you that for certain. After all, I'm a lawyer." His smile fades back to that warm facade, as he hands over the seeds. Nothing fancy - a variety pack of little paper baggies, all labeled with latin names in tidy script. "A pleasure meeting you, Ms. Nash. Take care."
