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+---- Thread: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... (/showthread.php?tid=10314)
you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - arcy - 09-07-2019
[align=center]
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]The thing about Running Away From Everything You've Ever Known on a whim is that it's a stupid move. By this point, Crowley is used to doing stupid, dramatic things, but still finds himself distressed when he realizes he'd left his fucking plants to die back at home. One would probably not presume Crowley to be the plant-tending type, but he was, and he screamed at them, and he was also very invested in their wellbeing, for better or worse.**Crowley would probably say for worse. He never [i]actually killed the underperforming plants like he intended to, and found himself, unfortunately, gratified whenever they came back to recovery. Which was not very demonic of him.[/i]
Crowley finds himself with a great, put-on sigh. Crowley, for whatever reason, wasn't able to miracle his plants to him. Which meant he couldn't retrieve his old plants. So he'd just have to replace them. Now, under normal circumstances, one would find it difficult to find potted plants ... anywhere, honestly. People tended to prefer the herbalistic type of garden. Crowley understood that, but Crowley didn't give a damn about healing.** And, in any cases, normal circumstances happened to other people.
*Crowley did, in fact, give a damn. Crowley is a liar. And, as a matter of fact, is fairly well informed on medical practices.
Now, a small wagon is probably rather undignified of Crowley. It didn't even go over the mud very well. Crowley is nothing but determined, head low as he stalks through the town, desperately hoping not to be spotted. Plant-tending wasn't a hobby Crowley tended to show off. It was just -- who the hell would look at Crowley, edgelord-asshole that he most definitely was, and would be like, oh, he fusses over useless houseplants. That makes sense.
Expecting to remain unnoticed*, Crowley inclines his head towards the wagon of plants. Once upon a time, Crowley had heard that talking to plants helped them grow. As usual, Crowley had his own take on that.
*Reality happened to like Crowley enough to bend to his will. Reality, as it happens, did not function as usual here.
"I probably shouldn't have expected much, but you lot are a bit on the small side," The serval says sourly, wings rustling against his back. And it was true, Crowley hadn't expected a lot from the Plants From An Unknown Source. But they were kind of sad, and wilty. Crowley finds them somewhat pathetic, but they were the best he could get his paws on in a short notice. Short notice being half a day. "You better keep an eye on that. Under-performers aren't welcome here," There's a threat somewhere in that difficult to parse sentence. Crowley himself isn't quite sure what the threat is -- in his long career as a plant caretaker, he's never actually killed one since his early attempts. Unintentionally or otherwise.
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - wormwood. - 09-07-2019
Wormwood's relationship with plants as of late had been extremely strained, which was sort of ironic given the fact that he shared a name with a well known type of plant. Still, it seemed like lately all of his clanmates were choosing to use plants as a way to harm themselves indirectly, and pretty much the only plant that Worm didn't hate at this particular moment was Audrey, and that was only because Beck loved that plant more than anything. However, all of this didn't mean that he was going to discourage anybody else from their hobby, such as Crowley. It just meant that when the hellhound was roused from his sleep by the sound of Crowley harshly critiquing his new wards as he walked along, Worm was gonna keep a bit of a distance as he wandered over. He was curious as to why the strange looking feline was talking directly to the plants as if they were underperforming students, and he couldn't help that curiosity moving him forward and over to where the other male and his cart full of different faintly wilted plants was.
Looking over the plants slowly, the canine kept his distance from the cart before barking with a tilt of his head, his golden gaze flicking over to Crowley instead of his tagalongs, "What've you got here, Crowley? You looking to make a garden here in Tanglewood? You should ask Selby for some advice. He has... well, used to have a really pretty garden." He wasn't exactly sure if Selby still had his garden around in some form, but it might be good for the medic if someone else shared an interest with him to talk about. After all, it might take his mind off of all of the stress he was under lately with so many injuries, as well as his grieving. The hellhound himself doubted he would ever be able to cultivate a nice garden of his own – and he certainly wasn't going to go around scowling at plants like Crowley was doing to "encourage" his own. Not that he was questioning the demon's methods, they just seemed... odd to him, if he was being entirely honest. Still, if he ever did take an interest in gardening, he was pretty sure his own methods would be more of the nurturing and sweet kind.
Looking over the plants slowly, the canine kept his distance from the cart before barking with a tilt of his head, his golden gaze flicking over to Crowley instead of his tagalongs, "What've you got here, Crowley? You looking to make a garden here in Tanglewood? You should ask Selby for some advice. He has... well, used to have a really pretty garden." He wasn't exactly sure if Selby still had his garden around in some form, but it might be good for the medic if someone else shared an interest with him to talk about. After all, it might take his mind off of all of the stress he was under lately with so many injuries, as well as his grieving. The hellhound himself doubted he would ever be able to cultivate a nice garden of his own – and he certainly wasn't going to go around scowling at plants like Crowley was doing to "encourage" his own. Not that he was questioning the demon's methods, they just seemed... odd to him, if he was being entirely honest. Still, if he ever did take an interest in gardening, he was pretty sure his own methods would be more of the nurturing and sweet kind.
[glow=black,2,300]YOUR CHANNEL IS UNREACHABLE[/glow]
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - RED - 09-07-2019
[align=center][div style="text-align:justify;width:55%;font-family:verdana;"]At least somebody around here was doing something other than moping. He wouldn't exactly call Crowley cheery by the way he glared at his bin full of plants like they were misbehaving children, but - it was still better than nothing.
On approach, he wants to tell Wormwood to shut up at the mere mention of Selby's outburst. That would be a real classic - Worm got that one a lot. After Pastel had been murdered, the medic had acted... Much different from the Selby he was used to. Crow was perhaps worse, isolated and quiet as he'd become, but he recalls the shallow scratches up and down Selby's arms from viciously tearing out his rose bushes, and feels a twinge of pity rise with the sympathy. None of their high positions seemed to be in a very good place.
Nonetheless, that was then, and this was an entirely different story: the plants in Crowley's cart look rather wilted, but trying their best to stand at attention in spite of the fact that they were without water or quality soil. His little soldiers in a row looked half dead, but earnest enough to take a threat to heart. (If plants could feel things, that is.) "You know," Red says idly, half a smile breaking out on his face, "I used to have friends who gardened. They had a record with.. Plant music on it. I think it's a load of crock, but -" He gestures toward the plants, "They might like it, y'never know."
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - arcy - 09-07-2019
[align=center]
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]One might say Crowley's relationship with plants could be ... somewhat self-harming. Self projecting, maybe. It was all in the way he snapped and snarled at them with a little too much feeling. It was hard to confirm, though, considering that Crowley would refuse to budge on the matter."OH FUCK --" Unsuspecting, Crowley yelps as Wormwood approaches him, turning wild but unseen eyes on the hellhound. It takes a moment for him to relax, and pointedly raises a paw to wipe away dust. Then remembers his paws are covered in filth and drops them. It's somewhat difficult to tell what expression, exactly, Crowley is wearing, but it looks almost ... embarrassed.
"I've been tending to plants for decades, I don't need help," Crowley sniffs primly, but, surprisingly, not unkindly. He ... well, he hasn't actually discussed plants with anyone before, and part of him is as eager to spill some information as Aziraphale is about his books. Which is a yikes from Crowley. "I uh, yeah, I guess so," Surprisingly passive, Crowley's ears turn uncomfortably as he settles from his arrogance. As already evidenced by his yowl, he hadn't expected to have to hold a conversation. "I forgot to bring along my garden when I came here, so I had to make some replacements today," Crowley elaborates, and heaves a soft sigh, forlorn. He'd been somewhat attached to those plants. It really was a shame.
Crowley probably wouldn't have appreciated being compared to a teacher or parent, so maybe it's fortunate that nobody had, thus far, given voice to these thoughts. Not that he'd do a lot -- Crowley is trying desperately to be at least vaguely likable, but that didn't mean he didn't have some bite to him still.
"I'm no expert on that front, but I'm fairly certain hearing Best of Queen all day, for months, is more of a punishment,"* He allows himself a hesitant joke, and refuses to elaborate. These unfortunate bastards clearly have something on their minds, they could use a little out of context humor. "But I'll consider it. I mean, I heard talking to plants helped, too," Crowley grins wickedly. And it sure had worked -- I mean, his focal plants always trembled whenever he walked into a room, but he'd be damned -- uh, blessed? if they hadn't been the lushest, greenest houseplants anyone had ever seen.
*Crowley still isn't quite sure why all of his music turns into Queen -- it's not even his favorite band or anything.
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - wormwood. - 09-07-2019
When Crowley jumped almost violently as he approached, Worm instantly recoiled, his eyes widening in concern as he assumed the male was scared of him. Sure, Crowley hadn't seen him in any form other than his hellhound one, but he had still seemed vaguely uncomfortable when they had first met. Still, it seemed as though he had just startled Crowley with his silent approach, and he felt relieved when the demon relaxed and began to speak. He talked about how he didn't need any advice from anyone, and how he had a garden in the past that he had since lost, and Wormwood barked softly as he shook his head, his tail wagging time as he explained his intentions, "Ah, I guess I kinda misspoke. I didn't mean I thought you needed advice, I just thought you might like talking to somebody else who was a plant enthusiastic. Y'know, shared interests and all of that." After all, he very much enjoyed talking to Roy about books they both enjoyed, and he liked talking to Vathmos about different fighting techniques that they both employed as well.
When Red approached and mentioned his he used to have a friend who played music to their plants, Worm had to hold himself back from laughing a bit, since it would be rude. He just wasn't really convinced that blabbing on and on to your plants or playing music for them actually had any effect. Still, he wouldn't stop Crowley, since it seemed as though his raising of plants was very therapeutic since he could just rant at the plants about their shortcomings instead of his own. He then said, looking over the plants again as his tail wagged steadily from side to side, "I've also heard that playing classical music in particular can be good for growth. I know plenty of classical artists that I could recommend... I'm sure your... gentle wording also helps too." He joked a bit sarcastically, remembering just how pointed the demon's words to the plants had been when he had first approached. He doubted that any plants grew out of love, and if they understood Crowley's words, they probably grew simply out of fear.
When Red approached and mentioned his he used to have a friend who played music to their plants, Worm had to hold himself back from laughing a bit, since it would be rude. He just wasn't really convinced that blabbing on and on to your plants or playing music for them actually had any effect. Still, he wouldn't stop Crowley, since it seemed as though his raising of plants was very therapeutic since he could just rant at the plants about their shortcomings instead of his own. He then said, looking over the plants again as his tail wagged steadily from side to side, "I've also heard that playing classical music in particular can be good for growth. I know plenty of classical artists that I could recommend... I'm sure your... gentle wording also helps too." He joked a bit sarcastically, remembering just how pointed the demon's words to the plants had been when he had first approached. He doubted that any plants grew out of love, and if they understood Crowley's words, they probably grew simply out of fear.
[glow=black,2,300]YOUR CHANNEL IS UNREACHABLE[/glow]
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - fulzanin - 09-07-2019
WE'LL MAKE A WAY WHERE YOU CAN FIND YOUR PLACE
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“Ive never had the patience to grow a garden,” were the words that came tumbling from the vibrant feline’s mouth as she came over. It wasn’t her usual leaps and bounds, but rather a slow meander over to investigate the reasoning for all this talking. She was attracted to noise like a moth to a light- a comparison that she would fully admit to having. Who wouldn’t want to be in on what was being said around them? Her wings were tucked by her sides, and her blue eyes looked over the one that was planting this garden. Someone new? That was thrilling. The twitch of her tail simply couldn't be helped, nor the grin that grew across her face.
Her face scrunched up a little at the comment of playing music for plants. That to her sounded a little silly. They didn’t have ears! Did they? Her attention moved to the plants, squinting as if it would help her to see these ears that the plants supposedly had. “Ive never used music for plants. Guess it’s kinda impossible to do when you don’t even grow them. Oh. I need to stop saying ‘nevers’. We’re not playing ‘never have I ever’ here!” she said with a small shrug, her wings moving as a result. Her sentence ended with a small laugh, which then was swiftly stifled by the next bout of words to come from her. “What are you growing? Do they have names? I don’t- I don’t mean species names. I mean actual names.” Feza rambled, a paw lifting to somewhat point. Her ears swiveled a little, she supposed that if the plants could truly hear music, then they likely wouldn’t like her usual shrill and sharp tone. The snow leopard supposed for the plants she could quiet down, her curious expression again returning to her face.
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THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY
THE EMPTY CHAIRS WILL BE RESERVED FOR OUR PITY
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - arcy - 09-08-2019
[align=center]
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Somewhat bewildered, Crowley tilts his head as Wormwood elaborates on his meaning.Huh.
He'd forgotten that the 'having something in common' thing was how people get along. He and Aziraphale, for example, didn't have a lot of interests in common besides humans and alcohol, and he was his best friend. It's ... not bad, though. "I'll, uh. I'll think about it," Crowley says, in lieu of any of that depressing bullshit. He hasn't met Selby before -- hadn't even heard the name till now. "Haven't exactly compared notes with anybody before," It seems interesting. Crowley hasn't ever wandered outside of his plant comfort zone, being houseplants, before, but it doesn't seem like a bad idea. That is, he's assuming that this 'Selby' is growing different things.
"Oh, don't bother. I'm afraid I'm probably a little more well-versed than you," Still not quite unkind. Just a statement, or suggestion, of fact. He'd been around for their debuts, and back in those days, Aziraphale had actually liked that music. He's not about to flaunt his immortality around, though -- he'd already mentioned being around for decades, though nobody seemed to have even blinked at that, so far. His grin sharpens a little when Wormwood says gentle wording, but he doesn't open his mouth to disagree. They hadn't seen anything yet -- he was going soft on this batch. It wasn't their fault that their ... previous owner hadn't taken care of them.
"You don't really need patience, as long as you choose the right plants," Crowley offers the stranger as she arrives, shrugging. He can't believe that she's such a vivid color. And, to match, she seems to have ... a lot of energy. Crowley tries not to grimace. She doesn't seem so bad, besides her high energy, after all.
"Name the plants?" Crowley repeats, tilting his head. He had, in fact, been about to rattle off their species name before she'd elaborated. Crowley hasn't named his plants before. It would've been ... well. It was harder to yell at something that you've named. Crowley really was too soft for his own good.
"I can't say that they do. I haven't thought about it," Crowley says, just a white lie. He had a rule, see -- you don't name things, or you'll get attached. But it was already too late for that, considering that he was going to be nursing these plants back to health, anyways. Damaged plants ... required a bit more care, see. A bit more precision. Which, Crowley already gave his plants lots of, but these sorts even more so.
Not that he took in wilting plants often. Seriously, he just sort of ... bought them.
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - MERGED - 09-09-2019
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view point: image
plants were so very calming to the rotting canine, to the point that when he had heard the talk of it, he had begged his brother to take him to wherever the flowers were. of course, it took a good five minutes of trying to convince him and a lot of promises of never asking for anything ever again, but mirror eventually gave in. neither of them were very fast, so they were a few minutes late to the party, image holding a very small smile as he stopped a bit away from the group.
oh, it all smelled so nice. fresh plants always did.
"do you have any flowers that can cover the smell of death? my brother needs some." mirror's words made image's head lower, and he closed the eye that the other male couldn't see. why couldn't his brother just keep his mouth shut?
"ign-" before he could even finish the first word of his sentence, a glare was shot his way by mirror. it was the signature 'stop talking' glare that his brother seemed to love oh-so-much. sometimes he wished he had telepathy so he didn't have to speak and so his brother wouldn't have to hear what he was thinking to others.
one day, it'll happen. just you wait.
plants were so very calming to the rotting canine, to the point that when he had heard the talk of it, he had begged his brother to take him to wherever the flowers were. of course, it took a good five minutes of trying to convince him and a lot of promises of never asking for anything ever again, but mirror eventually gave in. neither of them were very fast, so they were a few minutes late to the party, image holding a very small smile as he stopped a bit away from the group.
oh, it all smelled so nice. fresh plants always did.
"do you have any flowers that can cover the smell of death? my brother needs some." mirror's words made image's head lower, and he closed the eye that the other male couldn't see. why couldn't his brother just keep his mouth shut?
"ign-" before he could even finish the first word of his sentence, a glare was shot his way by mirror. it was the signature 'stop talking' glare that his brother seemed to love oh-so-much. sometimes he wished he had telepathy so he didn't have to speak and so his brother wouldn't have to hear what he was thinking to others.
one day, it'll happen. just you wait.
tags | updated 9/9/19:
BROTHERS IN MORE THAN NAME / ☆☆☆
Re: you can leave it all behind ➵ pplants ... - arcy - 09-10-2019
[align=center]
[glow=#000,1,400]all you've ever done is been a noose to hang on to — ｡+ﾟ.[/glow]
[div style="width: 480px; height: auto; text-align: justify; font-family: verdana; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 13px;"]Oh, it's the two-headed rotting fellow -- Mirrorimage? Mirrorimage, yeah. He can't imagine it's kind of rude to be thinking of them like that. Not that Crowley hasn't done that before, but he actually lives with these people now. Which could be said about hell, but also, it couldn't. Crowley was a field agent, he only went Downstairs a few times a decade at most.Crowley isn't really sure what he's on about right now. Also, why the fuck are so many people swarming around him right now? He just has a wagon of plants.
Now, Crowley doesn't actually have any flowers in his wagon -- they're all houseplants, see. And maybe his demonic powers ... didn't exactly work just a minute ago, but he thinks that he'd seen a few flowers at the place he'd ... confiscated these ones from.
"I think perfume would be better for that. Flowers aren't my usual thing anyways," Crowley shrugs, all while he casually conjures* the flowers he'd seen to the wagon, underneath some of his other plants. Somewhat alarmingly, it actually works. He's not terribly fond of the way Image wilted after Mirror spoke. "But if Image wants them, he can have these," Crowley says, trying not to sound challenging and not succeeding terribly well. Crowley fishes the pot of flowers from the wagon, and fixes his gaze on Image. They aren't particularly strong-smelling flowers, but Crowley's pretty sure you couldn't cover the scent of rot with any flowers very well anyways.
*This is different than miracling. Crowley just doesn't realize yet.
This is most definitely not intended to be a kind act, regardless of how they respond. It's not. Crowley may not have an excuse, but since nobody here knows him well enough to press him about it, he doesn't need one anyways. Maybe he'll just have to go out and cause some chaos elsewhere to make up for it.