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

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Plant Parenthood; Thursday [08/22].

Well, the nice thing about Nell's last class being here in the shop was that Eleanor was pretty much all ready there for her shift afterwards, although because the class was in the shop, everything was pretty much already in order and there wasn't a whole lot to do beyond the usual maintenance and helping out the rogue customer that wandered in.

But her quick trip back home after Senshi's class had left her with plenty to think about and do, although yesterday's shenanigans also gave her less to do, per se, but more to daydream about. So after thunking the new ledger for the Zarrin family finances onto the counter and peeling it open, she tried her best to focus on numbers and accounts and not Kamala's chin on her shoulder as they posed for a selfie and threats about trying to make her laugh as much as possible.

>Tried was definitely the operative word there.

Plant Parenthood is open!

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"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.

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Plant Parenthood; Thursday [08/22].

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