voidtreckerexpress | Greening up the Greenhouse

Entry tags:

Greening up the Greenhouse

Who: Persephone (Open)
Where: Greenhouse mostly
When: Month Egret. Day 21
What: Perse has a bad morning and decides to be productive to make herself feel better
Warnings: None so far

OOC: Feel free to reply to any part of this, in the cabin or before she starts planting

She's spent longer on this train now than she'd been in Olympus. It doesn't really feel possible that it all happened in such a short time. It feels even less possible that she could be here months. Years? She stays curled up in her bunk that morning, staring at the wall. Crying maybe. A little. She's already had her birthday on here. What more is she missing at home? Nothing, because time doesn't move there like everyone said, or has Artemis been looking for her desperately. Would she have told her mom? Would Hades notice if she stoppped showing up to the internship?

Generally speaking, it's a bad morning. She drifts to a late breakfast and finally ends up in the greenhouse. There's a long moment where she wants to tear it all down. Her fists clench at the sight of her inane roses, her eyes fill red at the reminder that the greenhouse came with her arrival. She wants to break the walls, tear down the roses, claw up the burgeoning growth, destroy the smells and sights that remind her of her home, of her dreams. But she takes a deep breath. Hands relax, her eyes clear. Put into work. Wrath isn't helping anyone.

She sifts through the seeds, picking out ones for vegetables and fruits, leaving the ones for more decorative things to the side. Plenty of people have used this place for flowers. Herself included. Carefully, she trails one set of seeds in a thin line along the edge of a raised bed and covered them with soil. With a hand to the soil, she takes a deep breath and with a soft pink glow, plants curl up and out, unwinding leaves and blossoming. It continues until the blossoms fall and red strawberries hang fat and glistening. She picks one and holds it in her teeth as she stands to start the process all over.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh my, what a lovely ability!"

Nerdanel looks over from where she is working on small sculptures.

"And so thoughtful! Thank you, my lady."

She doesn't know this lady, but she feels a bit like one of the maia, and one should be polite to the powers, even the lesser ones.

"Oh--thank you."

Politeness demands politeness in return. And even if she's feeling off today, she still manages to push it back for a gracious reply.

"You're very welcome, of course, but I must admit this is a little selfish. I prefer fresh fruit."

"Nothing wrong with that." Nerdanel smiles. "I think many would agree with you! There is something in the flavour that is missing, if it is been sitting in an ice box too long."

"Oh exactly. It's so much better to pull a tomato warm off the vine and eat it right then and there than to open a can." Persephone gives the lights above a dirty look and sighs, "It won't be the same but I don't think the void gives off the right light to grow anything."

"Indeed so! Although," she adds, "I do also like a good pickle or relish, especially in the winter months. And strawberries make for excellent jams."

"Oh who doesn't?"

Persephone leans forward, brushing dirt from her hands and pondering the next move.

"But I don't eat meat so that leaves me with a lot of the same thing. I was spoiled back home with all the options. I can only eat so much bread and cereal after all."

"Exactly!" She agrees and makes a noise of dismay.

"Oh dear, yes that would make things difficult! At least you are able to grow things to suit you better. Should we try and make preserves or jams?"

"We could. I don't know how long anything would keep on this train with so many people. I don't even know if what I make today will last the week."

She looks around, slightly dismayed at the thought of having to go through this every week. Or more. But it would give her something to do.

"Preserves would be best. Making pickles and preserves."

"If we labelled it for your specific use, perhaps?"

She considers. "Most others can eat meat, after all."

"Oh it's not necessary. I'm just grateful to have a space to do this."

She pats the ground with a little self deprecating smile, "I was going to miss the spring at home anyways. And I feel so much better when I'm working towards a goal."

"I think that is true for many!" Nerdanel agrees wryly. "When folk get bored... why, strange things start happening!"

looking at you Feanaro.

"But I am gald you are able to find yourself something to do that helps. Is spring a special time for you?"

"Yes, I always helped with bringing it in at home. Like I said, I wasn't going to be there for it anyways but I would have missed it either way."

She shifts back on her heels and wipes off her hands.

"Just feels strange. And it makes being stuck here feel even more confining sometimes."

"You would be one of Lady Vana's, in my world." She smiles a little at the thought. "I do hope though, that as difficult as things are here, that it will be... mm, at least a little more comfortable, for you."

"Thank you." She shows a smile in return and runs her fingertip over a leaf. She feels like she has an idea of the answer to the question, but she's still curious. "Who is Lady Vana?"

"Lady Vana is one of the Valar, the Powers of the world, those who built and shaped our world, who sustain it even as they are themselves sustained by it." She explains. "Vana Ever-Young, we call her, who holds to spouse Orome, the Hunter. All flowers spring as she passes and open if she glances upon them; and all birds sing at her coming for she loveth life and sunlight. She is the Spring, in some way, the renewal of life after the cold sleep of winter."

((ooc: italics are quotes))

Persephone had been expecting a description of her mother, in some form and fashion. Some called her Demeter and others Ceres and surely there are other names. Vana could be one of them. Instead, she finds herself, or some other world's version of herself.

"Oh--oh wow. She sounds..." How do you even talk about a version of herself. One who married a hunter. Huh. Maybe she was never destined to be an eternal maiden. "She's a goddess then? You called her one of the Valar, are they your gods?"

"They don't like being called that." She smiles. "They say they are our guardians, and our teachers, our older kinsmen. Although they are also in some ways our rulers, for Aman is their land, which we dwell on, but we are mostly left to our own devices in that regard. But they are probably very like to the gods of other worlds, I suppose."

They seem much more involved than most gods. It makes sense that they don't really subscribe to the name. Being a goddess tends to involve some worship and being above mortals." Persephone smiles tightly, a thin sort of smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "And if you aren't really interested in that, it might feel uncomfortable."

"They've always said, as fellow creations, they are not to be worshiped." She nods.

"Respected, yes, of course - we live in their lands, after all, and one must respect a storm, for example, for it's sheer power."

"It sounds very different from the world I'm from. But--I'm sure it works for you. Have you met them? I mean--do they live with you, or to themselves?" It's honestly fascinating to think of someone like a god not wanting to be worshiped.

"Oh yes! It is their land, after all, although they 'live' mostly in Valmar, insomuch as the represenations of the world can be said to live anywhere, and that city is apart from ours. I studied myself with Lord Aule, the Mountain Builder, as did my father and my husband, and I know one of my law-brothers is quite familiar with Lord Ulmo of the Waters as well as Lady Uinen of the Seas and Lord Osse of the Storms, for his wife, the Lady Earwen, is from Alqualonde originally, and the Teleri love best of all the ocean and the powers that dwell therein."

Persephone listens to the listing of various names and epithets. Of the Waters, of the Seas. Of the Storms. Her lips curl up into a half smile as she intently takes it all in.

"It's so strange that they're so open and near you. I can't imagine. What did you learn from the Mountain Builder?"

"Sculpture." She laughs. "Well, more specifically, how to listen to the heart of the earth, and the songs of the stones. One can't carve well without knowing those. My father and husband are his true students, but the forge was never my calling."

It's hard not to pair those she speaks of to the gods Persephone has known her whole life. People she's met and those she's heard of. It's enough to set her questioning, comparing the pantheons. But she holds it back.

"Sculpture has never been my strong suit. Do you carve wood or stone? I could get you some wood if you wanted to keep up your skills as well."

"Both, although I do favor stone." She admits with a smile.

"I've experimented with various forms over the years - I even used metal at one point."

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