fandomtownies | Plant Parenthood; Thursday [08/22].

Speaking of rogue customers...

Okay, if we’re strictly talking D&D classes, Kamala wasn’t a rogue. She was more like a bard. At least she felt inspirational at times. Plus, she could spam cast Arcane Hand a lot.

So, let’s just call her a ‘bard customer,’ even if that doesn’t make much sense. But hey, it’s all narrative, so who cares?

Today, Kamala came in with just one Squishy, only because she’d finished hers right before walking in. In her other hand was a long, capped cardboard tube. And, of course, a big smile lit up her face.

"Heeeey," she called out as she walked in. "I’m here for my plant consultation!"

"Hey," said Eleanor, sighing a little with relief as she closed up the accounting ledger and shoved it aside, then looked up at Kamala with a smile on her own face. "Perfect. Just in time."

All the numbers were starting to blur together and it was becoming increasingly obvious to her that having excellent investments was all well and good, but frustrating to manage when you couldn't access them because the holders of the accounts were either dead or stuck as a wolf, and the manager of those accounts had disappeared the moment he had the chance to. Plant consultations with Kamala was easily more preferable, and she got up to start drifting toward some of the plants she was already thinking of showing up, but got mildly distracted by the cardboard tube.

"What's that?" she asked, with a nod toward it.

Kamala playfully held up the squishy cup, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "You mean this?" she teased, the squishy a familiar token by now. "This is a squishy, as if you didn't know. You've given me enough of these by now!" She paused, then added with a grin, "Or are you talking about this?"

She attempted to twirl a cardboard tube like a baton, but it was thicker than expected, slipping from her hands and clattering to the floor. "Uhhh, yeah," she muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Bending down to retrieve the tube, Kamala's confident presentation crumbled, replaced by a sheepish smile. "So, um, last week in Romance class, we had to make gifts. I wanted to give this to you earlier, but it wasn’t quite ready yet… so, yeah. Tah-dah!"

When Eleanor saw the tube start to fall, her immediate reaction was to try and catch it; she was a little too slow for that, so she felt the impulse to get it for Kamala, but, almost as if she'd borrowed a page from her grandmother's book of predetermination, she could see how much of a likely disaster of butting heads that was likely to be, so she pulled back and instead just sort of felt her own little blush of fondness at the bout of clumsiness.

A blush that only deepened once Kamala explained what it was and she bit her lip a little in an effort to try not to just grin at her like an idiot.

"You made me a romantic present?"

Sorry, plant consultation, you were going to be put on hold for a minute.

“Well, it’s a present. I made it for you annnnnnnnd it was in romance class, so I guess?” Kamala replied, getting a bit more flustered. “I mean, if you add it all up together, I think it does? Maybe you should look at it and see if you like it first.”

Clearly, Kamala hadn’t done the math on romance before coming here. Hopefully, her performance wasn’t part of the equation.

Inside, Eleanor would find a drawing in a comic book style. It was a picture of her and Kamala having Squishies together. Kamala had her eyes closed and was leaning on Eleanor, while Eleanor was enjoying her Squishy and looking at Kamala with affection. The picture was very sweet, though the hands were a bit wonky. There was evidence of how much time Kamala had spent on them, with a tone of erase marks from her initial sketches.

"You made it," Eleanor reminded Kamala, with a little bit of a pointed look over her smile as she figured out how to remove the cap from the tube to slide the picture out carefully. "Of course I'm going to like it."

She wasn't really sure what to expect, either. Obviously, it was a drawing, she could determine that much, and she could probably guess on the style of it, now that she'd seen some of Kamala's drawing in her room. And if she looked back on this moment in retrospect, she'd have realized that she shouldn't have been surprised by what unrolling the paper revealed, but she was, especially in that moment.

"Oh," she breathed out, eyes going a little wide as they danced over the image and all the little details (yes, even the wonky hands). "You made a picture of us."

And here Eleanor was getting all moony over having a photo of them together on her phone now. But Kamala had actually spent time on using her talents to create art. Of them. And she looked so happy. They both did. Was this, then, how Kamala saw her? Saw them?

They never even bothered giving her a portrait, for the hallway back home...

She felt the prick of tears stinging her eyes, blurring her view of the picture, so she didn't feel too bad not looking at it anymore, and, instead, moved to wrap Kamala up in a big, fierce hug.

"I love it," she gushed out, and suddenly, a hug wasn't enough, either; she was going to pull back out of it and kiss her instead. Just as big but not quite as fierce, because she worried about just wanting to swallow her up or tear deep into her if it was too fierce. "Thank you."

As she watched Eleanor carefully unroll the picture, Kamala shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her fingers fidgeting as she waited for Eleanor’s reaction.

When Eleanor let out that little “oh,” Kamala’s heart nearly melted. She tried to play it cool, but her cheeks betrayed her, glowing with a proud blush. And when Eleanor moved to hug her, Kamala eagerly wrapped her arms around her.

But when Eleanor pulled back to kiss her, Kamala’s eyes went wide with surprise before she melted into the kiss and her heart started to pound in herchest. When they finally pulled away, Kamala looked at Eleanor with a soft, almost shy smile, her voice a little breathless as she replied, “I’m so glad you like it.”

Kamala giggled, the moment too nice to handle without letting out some of her energy. “I was so nervous you wouldn’t like it… but seeing you happy makes it all worth it.”

"How could I not like it?" asked Eleanor, with the same kind of wonderment in her voice that would be reflected in her face again in just a moment, when she pulled back and away from Kamala just a little bit and looked at the picture again, not because she wanted to pull away, but more because she felt she needed to, for the sake of her own flustered fiery cheeks and racing heart trying to beat out of her ribcage like a trapped bird, for the whole flock of emotions rampaging through her that were almost impossible to corral. But they could all have a moment to just settle and behave themselves if she just held out the picture and looked at it again, and grinned stupidly at it before she dared to look at Kamala again.

"You're so talented, too." She was gushing again. "I'm picking up a frame for this on my way back to my room, too. So I can put it up and not have to worry about it getting wrinkled or creased or torn."

Kamala’s eyes began to water as she watched Eleanor’s reaction, a surge of relief washing over her. She had worried so many times during the process that Eleanor might find the drawing cringey or dorky. But hearing that Eleanor actually wanted to frame it sent a wave of pure glee through her.

She instinctively placed a hand on her chest, her heart swelling with gratitude at seeing Eleanor so happy.

“I’m just so glad you like it,” Kamala said, her voice a little shy now. “I’m not a true artist or anything—I just like drawing. The only other people I’ve ever drawn were my family or, you know, heroes beating up bad guys.” She hesitated, then added softly, “It means so much to me that you like it this much.”

All that softness, all that shyness from Kamala right now...at least Eleanor didn't have to worry so much about that racing heart anymore, because it had just gone and melted instead. She carefully turned to set the picture aside for the moment on the counter, and then went to take her hand.

"It means so much to me," she said, "that you wanted to draw it. And give it to me. I've never had anyone draw my picture before."

Kamala squeezed Eleanor’s hand, her smile turning a bit more mischievous. "Well, I guess that makes you my muse now," she teased, her voice light. "Just don’t be surprised if my next drawing has us both fighting off a dragon or something. Besides, for some reason drawing you is easy for me."

Except for the hands. Those were still hard.

Hands were definitely the worst. Although that did beg the question as to whether or not Eleanor's slight webbing made them easier to do, or just that much harder?

"And I've definitely," she had to laugh a little at that, not only because she knew Kamala would appreciate the laugh, but just because it felt wonderfully absurd, and even more so that it was now demonstrably true, "never been anyone's muse before. But I'm glad I can help. And I'd like that. You could draw us doing all sorts of exciting things together."

She was absolutely including drinking Squishies together as exciting.

Look, Squishies are always exciting. The variety of flavors alone is a testament to how great they are!

“Well, I’m thinking my next drawing will be of us picking out a plant together,” Kamala teased with a playful smile. “Or maybe us at the Pacific. I haven’t forgotten that I owe you a swim. Maybe we can go next week before classes start up again?”

Says she who probably just got Red 99.99% of the time.

"We should definitely plan for next week," Eleanor agreed, with a nod and an odd, nervous sort of flutter in her chest over it, as much for the trip itself as the swimming. "But, the plants, we can do that right now. Come on."

She already had Kamala's hand, so now all she had to do was lead her over to the spot where she'd had a few plants marked for possibilities.

"So," she said, the excitement clear in her voice, "I was thinking about it, and I think I have a couple of good options, but I need to know what you think. Would you rather go with more leafy like you already have, something more floral, or something more unconventional?"

"Walking in today, I would’ve said floral," Kamala said with a cheerful smile as she followed along to the plants. "But hanging out with you right now? I’m definitely leaning toward something a bit more unconventional."

"Well," Eleanor was particularly pleased to report, "this one is both unconventional and has a floral element, although we sort of missed its blooming season. But how do you feel about hedgehogs?"

For whatever reason just the mention of hedgehogs just gave Kamala the giggles. "I feel like they are adorable but not as cute as sloths," she replied, through her giggling. "This is not some kind of weird flora around here that are actual hedgehogs but just green and just need to be watered occasionally? Because I will take that in a heartbeat."

"Not around here, no," said Eleanor, not at all excepting the bout of giggles, but appreciating every single second of it, "but the southwest. Let me introduce you to..."

Eleanor paused for dramatic effect while she turned around to pluck out from the other plants this week's winner and, cradling it proudly in her hands, turned back around to offer it out to Kamala.

"The strawberry hedgehog cactus. And only watering it occasionally shouldn't be a problem, because overwatering is usually the problem with them, especially in its dormant winter phase, which we'll be going into. You'll want to keep it by the window, though, with lots of sunlight. And the flowers are pink, by the way, which is where the strawberry part comes in, but that won't happen until probably April."

"Oooo. I like it," Kamala said peering at the prickly little bulbs of the plant. "I don't suppose you have any 'S' names that would be appropriate?"

Eleanor thought about it for a moment, had an idea, hesitated, and then decided to go through with it anyway, especially considering what her inspiration for suggesting Bennie's name had been.

"Sosostris," she suggested. "Sosostris the Strawberry Hedgehog."

Kind of had a nice ring to it, if you asked her.

Which, you know, Kamala had.

Kamala tilted her head and smirked at Eleanor. "Okay. There's a meaning behind that name and I want to know what it is," She said, looking at Eleanor affectionately. "I like it though. Sosostris."

She paused for a moment as she heard her own voice say the name.

"Yep. I definitely like it."

"'Madame Sosostris,'" Eleanor quotes
D, and now her smile had its turn going a little sheepish and shy, "' famous clairvoyante / Had a bad cold, nevertheless / Is known to be the wisest woman in Europe, / With a wicked pack of cards.' A fortune teller, who reads tarot."

She almost added 'like my grandmother,' but with how Kamala had responded when she told her about being sent away, she didn't think that would give her a very positive association, so, instead, she just added, "From my favorite poem."

Kamala held up the new plant and wiggled her finger at it. “Madame Sosostris. That is definitely her. The fortune teller who will keep the rest of the plants in line.”

She gave Eleanor a wide smile. “I like the poem. Where is it from?”

"T.S. Eliot," Eleanor answered, trying to remind herself that the last person to hold a little bit of a particular obsession with anything was Miss Superhero Superfan here, but still, it went beyond that, because it was something deep and personal that she didn't really talk about to many people. "The Waste Land ~~or whatever meta for it~~. That's where I got Bennie's name from, too."

And she quoted again: "By this, and this only, we have existed / Which is not to be found in our obituaries / Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider."

As Eleanor began to recite the stanza, Kamala leaned forward on the countertop, resting her chin in her hands, her eyes wide with admiration. "Wow, you have it memorized?" she asked, clearly impressed. "I had no idea my plants were named after poetry. That’s so beautiful. I love it."

Then, with a hint of shyness, she added, "Could I hear a little more?"

"I had memorized it without even realizing I'd memorized it," Eleanor said, with a faint huff of a laugh, because, no, it didn't make much sense to her, either, but she'd never really questioned it much. She'd go mad, if she tried to make sense out of all the odd little quirks that built up her life. And she hesitated, a little more, but she looked at Kamala and saw in her the same things that she herself felt when listening to Kamala talk about her superheroes and ducked her head a little with a soft smile. And sighed, both wistful and bolstering.

"Well, it starts," she offered, "with the first part, called 'The Burial of the Dead,' and it goes like this:

"April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain."

A glance at Kamala again before she decided to add the next stanza:

"Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.

"Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.

"It's about the war, mostly," she added, "and about brokenness, and loss. Disenfranchisement and the collapse of society."

You know. Really uplifting stuff. But she'd recited it to herself for comfort late at night through the years at St. Brigid's, she'd checked it out from the library so many times that Sister Katherine let her keep it, and it was one of the few things she'd thought to grab to take with her, when she fled after attacking Lucy, only to discover it already there and waiting for her in her childhood bedroom when she got home.

Kamala listened intently, her expression shifting from curiosity to awe as Eleanor recited the lines.

When Eleanor finished, Kamala's eyes were wide with admiration. "Whoa," she breathed out, almost as if she had been holding her breath during the recitation. "That’s... intense. But in a good way, you know? It’s like you’re carrying this whole world of thoughts and feelings in your head, and you just let me peek inside. It’s kinda amazing."

She paused, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I get why you hold onto it. It’s not just about the words, it’s about everything they mean to you. And I totally get that. I mean, when I talk about superheroes, it’s not just because they’re cool, it’s because of what they represent. Hope, resilience... all that good stuff. I mean it's not epic poetry like you know, it's just that I get why."
you love it so much.

Kamala then leaned in a little closer, her voice softening. "I think it’s really brave of you to share that with me. I know it must mean a lot. And, honestly? I’m kinda honored you did."

She grinned, her usual upbeat energy returning. "Plus, you make poetry sound super cool. Who knew?"

"Well," said Eleanor, the shyness of her smile retreating a little to make room for just warmth and gratitude and a little bit of wonder right back at Kamala, "it's a pretty super cool poem. I am a little biased, though, but so are you, so I guess that works out."

And there was a tug in her chest, as she thought a little more about what Kamala said, about Eleanor being brave for sharing and her being honored that she did, and the blush starting to creep along her cheeks again. No making fun of her or thinking she was weird or that all that stuff was so depressing and strange.

"Thanks for letting me share. And it's kind of funny, isn't it? Well, maybe not funny. Interesting, at least, that you like all this bright, hopeful stuff, and I'm sitting here with these dark, brooding poems of discontent. Sort of like...a good balance."

Although she was pretty sure she was benefiting far more from Kamala's brightness than Kamala would probably ever get from all of her shadows and gloom.

“Mmm. I like that. Balance,” Kamala said, absorbing Eleanor’s words. “My mom always said I have my head in the clouds, dreaming up too many fantasies. Maybe what I need is a girl who loves some dark poetry to keep me grounded. And if I can lift you up a little in return? Totally worth it.”

She hesitated, a small frown tugging at her lips. “I should probably let you get back to work. Unless Nell has a special rate for listening to you recite The Waste Land all day?”

"I'm pretty sure you really are our best customer," Eleanor pointed out. "I feel like there should be some sort of special rate or benefit for that. But maybe I can check with her and see what she has to say. And I'm sure you've got lots of other stuff to do than just listen to me recite The Waste Land all day, too."

"If I could drop everything and spend the day listening to you read T.S. Eliot, I’d do it in a heartbeat," Kamala promised with a smile and clearly with some reluctance. "You know, instead of dealing with things like homework and work. But Cal’s birthday party is coming up, and Arden’s is next week, and I’m helping with both. If it weren’t for that, I’d be all about poetry, plants, and skin care products today."

"Maybe we can save it," Eleanor offered, with an excited little tug in her chest for the fact that the suggestion could even be a reality, "for our trip back to the Pacific. And is everything going okay? With the parties? Did you need any help?"

She didn't worry too much about the squirrels catching too much because she could make sure nothing got on the air tomorrow, and she wasn't even worried about her involvement potentially ruining them, not after Kamala's party had been such a success.

(Well, barring that one panic attack, but she was pretty sure no one even noticed it).

Pfft. Like the squirrels could go back in time at this point!

"Everything is good for the party, I think. I've reached out to people who I thought weren't on the email and I've got the food and drinks wrapped up," Kamala replied. "And I need to finish my gift for Cal so I'll be working on that probably tonight and tomorrow."

And then that oh-so-innocent smirk went across her face. "But if you want to swing by the Manor after work. Maybe bring a book of poetry to read, while I work... I could always use a muse. Or just your company would be nice."

"Are you sure I wouldn't just be a distraction?" asked Eleanor, with the tone of someone who very much expected to be a distraction.

Even though she would, in actually, try not to be, despite the teasing.

“I’m sure my iron clad willpower can ensure I stay on task,” Kamala said in such a way that made it clear she wanted that distraction. And if that wasn’t clear enough the kiss she leaned in for after saying that would make it abundantly obvious.

"Well, then, in that case," Eleanor decided, a note of dreaminess to her voice after a reassurance like that, and hoping her own willpower could be ironclad as well, "I guess I should come over, then, fulfill these newfound Muse duties that I've got now."

“Then… I will you see you after work,” Kamala said leaving the money for Sosoistra on the counter.

And then a quick kiss before she left.

Kamala was getting zero work done on Cal’s gift tonight.

Plant Parenthood; Thursday [08/22].

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