screwthatnoise

Thanks... I'll need one more, I'm gonna rinse out the pot.

[he takes the water-- gotta get the alcohol out. HE'S READ A BIT ON GARDENING, and alcohol can sort of work, if it's methanol (aka not the drinkable stuff).

But whiskey is not the type of alcohol the plants can have.

No. Just. No.

Once the pot is cleaned, Emil places the dirt in the pot, and then waits for the flower]

In that time, she ran off to get another cup of water, and she now holds that out to him.

But she's hesitant with the flower.

"I... I can't..."

[he pauses, and then sets the pot down, digging into the dirt so the flower has something to settle into]

Yes, you can. You've done it before, and now I'm showing you, so you'll be able to do it better.

After a moment of thought, she delicately places the flower in the pot. But does nothing more than that.

[it's... it's okay. he pats the dirt down for her, and then takes the cup, pouring the water in.

HE'S GOING TO SET THE FLOWER BY ONE OF THE WINDOWS]

She looks over the simple set-up.

"Maybe... maybe the windows are not allowing enough light in. Should I fix that?"

A lot of light helps, but a flower like this should be able to bloom with only a little.

And you should water it once a day, with a cup, like I did.

[he offers the cup back to her]

And they say talking to plants helps them, too.

THAT... DISAPPOINTS HER. The window part.

But she perks up a little bit after she takes the cup.

"Talking to plants... really?"

[YOU CAN OPEN THE WINDOWS, but you also don't have to. >O]

Yes.

[I... I think I've done some good here... even if you did have to get stepforded for it...]

She nods.

"I see... then. I have a few things I would like to say to the flower."

She kneels next to it, and studies it closely, seemingly talking to the flower, but... not in a very quiet voice.

"I will tell you what Hail has been wanting to say, Mister Flower. She really wishes that she could have been good enough for him. And she wishes that he would be honest and tell her that the other girl was just that much better than her. That's all she wants. Really. You could say she is a glutton for punishment... but she only seeks to reconcile herself. Isn't that all?"

[oh, is the flower me. Is that what's happening now.

You're still not going to get him to say that...]

Hail...

Coping stands up, keeping her gaze on the ground.

"I think we need more light in this room."

Immediately following her words, she steps closer to the tall window and slams a fist through it, shattering a large piece of the window.

"...much better."

It's not about being better than anyone.

I don't care if Hail wants to be masochistic about it, I won't tell her she's any worse than Marta. Or anyone at all, no matter if she wants me to say that.

Because it's not true.

[he isn't looking at her, or the hole]

... I think that's what the flower would say.

She draws back her fist and punches another part of this window. It's a pretty large window.

"The flower is a liar."

No, I think Hail just doesn't understand that there are other things besides better and worse. If she thinks she's worse, then it makes sense. Because then at least she has a definite reason why I-- the flower loves someone else.

But it's... not really true. And the flower wouldn't be helping anyone if he gave her what she wanted this time.

Coping picks up a large piece of glass with a bloody hand.

"She didn't love the flower, you fool. She loved you! And while it is unfair to make you love someone you cannot love, there was a good reason behind it! And it all traces back to that... she just was not good enough! And she never was! She never is, for anything! And that must be why I failed to grow anything in this building, save for this flower, because...!"

She trails off. Her voice is wavering.

"Because...!!

Edited 2013-08-01 22:31 (UTC)

I thought we were talking through the flower...

I told you. It has nothing to do with being good enough for anything. You're good enough for everything you want-- you were 'good enough', better than me, even...

But... I can't say I love you...

She clenches her hand around the glass, drawing more blood. Her knuckles are white.

—acceptance...? That seems to flicker across her face. Maybe. It's hard to tell, especially when she suddenly ducks her face.

"You were cruel."

... Yes.

She chokes back a sob.

"So cruel."

Her grip on the glass tightens, and blood is simply dripping onto the floor, onto the rest of the shattered glass at her feet.

[i... I'm sorry... reaches out... to her shoulder...]

I'm sorry.

She would rub at her eyes but her hand is bloody. How inconvenient.

"Do not even apologize for that..."

I apologize for being cruel. You deserved a lot better than me.

The expression on her face... she just looks hurt.

She drops the bloodied glass and kneels by the flower again, looking at it quietly.

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