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The Park, Saturday Morning

She really needed to find a job. Seivarden didn't find that idea very appealing, but unless she was to be completely dependent on Hannibal Lecter, which she also objected to, there was no other way. Hannibal had been kind enough to offer her a place to stay for now, and while Seivarden didn't know the reason behind this hospitality, she didn't mind accepting it.

For now though, she had no money. Which was why she couldn't think of anything better to do than sitting on a bench in the park and look at some strange pink birds. Unsurprisingly, this didn't put her in the best of moods.

She pulled her sleeve down to cover the tear in one of her gloves. At least her clothes were clean now, but she really should get some new ones. Once she had money.

All this was just a way to distract herself from what she truly wanted, needed, but that, she had learned, wasn't available here at all. At least the medication Hannibal had offered her made it bearable.

[Open!]

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Oh, hey, there was a new face. Peter waved as he walked by. "Hi."

"Good morning, citiz..." Seivarden began, not looking up, the greeting automatic until she interrupted herself. This wasn't a citizen, and she really didn't feel like being ironic about it.

Looking up, she leaned back against the backrest. "Hi?"

That sounded like a rather vulgar greeting.

Peter grinned. "You don't sound too sure about that."

He came closer and held out a hand. "Peter Octavian. You're new here?"

"Sure about what?"

Seivarden was distracted by the fact that this stranger held out a bare hand to her, clearly expecting Seivarden to reciprocate. She did not, just blinked and then inclined her head slightly.

"Yes, I am. New, that is."

She would have to get used to strangers holding out their bare hands to her, it seemed. Even if they weren't pulling you off the ground when you were just regaining consciousness.

"About the hi," Peter said. Which, combined with the lack of handshake, probably meant a different culture. He shrugged and put his hand down.

"Well, welcome to Fandom. It's a little strange, but it's not that bad."

"I've noticed the strange," Seivarden replied. "Just arriving here without knowing how or why is strange enough to me."

Although to be fair, that had sort of happened before, but at least she had recognized the name of the planet. And there had been kef.

"Not that bad, you say?" Seivarden now looked at Peter.

Peter shrugged. "It's usually pretty quiet, and the people are nice. Accepting."

"Accepting?" Seivarden asked. "Of what? Strangers randomly showing up?"

She shrugged. "I suppose that's good. Apparently I'm stuck here." And it was obvious she wasn't pleased about it.

"Strangers showing up," Peter agreed. "Also different sorts of people with different customs and biology, and strange things happening in general. I'm stuck here for now too, but it's been better than I could have hoped."

Especially since he'd thought he was going to end up in Hell again.

"Oh?" Seivarden looked at Peter, raising an eyebrow. "Either that's very promising or you didn't have much hope left."

Peter was a bit taken aback at that.

"A little of both, but this has been a great place."

"Anything in particular you recommend?"

Because so far Seivarden had only been impressed by Hannibal Lecter's tea.

Peter shrugged. "What do you need?"

"A job, I've been told," Seivarden said. "Well, money, really, but that seems like a good way."

It would be pointless to try and hide this, really.

"Do you mind working with plants and flowers?" Peter asked. "I can always use some more help."

"Flowers?"

That didn't sound too bad. Or rather, it could be a lot worse.

"I don't mind flowers," she said. "Depending on what you do with them."

She couldn't actually think of unpleasant things to do with flowers, but then she had frequently been told this place was strange.

"Take care of the live ones, put the cut ones in bouquets, and sell them," Peter said. "That's pretty much it."

Please let the monsoon be a one-off.

"I can do that," Seivarden replied.

At least there were no members of House Vendaai left who could see her working in a flower shop. On the other hand, if there had been, she wouldn't have needed to.

"I work on Wednesdays," Peter said. "That's five days from now. You want to stop by and I can show you the place?"

"I will do that," Seivarden replied. "I think I walked past a flower shop on the way, is that the one or are there more?"

Seivarden had no idea how much flowers were needed on an island like this.

"There's only the one," Peter said. "I'll see you Wednesday, then. Are you good until then?"

He shrugged. "When I got here, I only had the clothes on my back, and they weren't that great. I was lucky to meet someone that helped me. I figure the least I can do is pass it on."

"I am," Seivarden said. "Thank you."

Peter seemed sincere in wanting to help. Hannibal Lecter had without any reason that Seivarden had been able to figure out offered her a place to stay.

This place was indeed strange.

And neither of them even planned on eating her!

"You're welcome." Peter waved. "See you Wednesday, then."

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The Park, Saturday Morning

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