Greening up the Greenhouse

[springforth]

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.

Comments

[springforth]

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."

[marriedanidiot]

"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."

[springforth]

"Do you enjoy sculpting anything in particular? I know some people have themes to their art and others hop from thing to thing, finding something new to explore everytime."

[marriedanidiot]

"Oh, that's definitely me." She smiles. "I started off in figures - that's still what I'm most famous for, and what most of my comissions are. I do enjoy it! But I've branched out to try all sorts - abstract art is particularly good for emotional days, I've found."

[springforth]

As Persephone pushes back a lock of hair, a trail of tiny white flower follows in her hand's wake, curling up one side of her head.

"I don't even really know what an abstract sculpture would look like. I mean--I've sort of seen abstract paintings but they aren't exactly something you could sculpt."

[marriedanidiot]

"That's the joy of it!" She gestures animatedly.

"They can be anything you want! A shape, a twist of metal... I want to try working with ice, one day. We had snow here, but I only did snowmen, as it was my first time with the material. Ice is interesting because of its ephemeral nature."

[springforth]

"But wouldn't it just melt away? I mean, I sort of understand, a lot of the work I do is--ephemeral. But even my flowers last longer than ice. Wouldn't it be upsetting to put so much work into something only to have it fall apart in a day?"

[marriedanidiot]

"Yes! But that would be the point, the sheer transient nature of it. To create something that would vanish, never to be exactly replicated again..."

[springforth]

"I'm afraid I can't really understand it. It's--I hate to put as much work into something only to have it amount to nothing. I always liked my powers because I could see something--something like tangible. And useful, flowers bring fruit and so on."

[marriedanidiot]

"No, that's fair." She smiles. "I suspect it's a very artist type of mindset."

[springforth]

"Probably. I don't really know many artist types." And the one she does is not a great example of them. "But I'm sure it makes perfect sense to you! It's just the way your mind works."

[marriedanidiot]

"That's probably accurate." She laughs softly. "Even amongst my own kin I'm considered rather eccentric."

Although not as much as her husband.

[springforth]

"Oh, I can understand the feeling." She smiles slightly, sitting back on her heels and looking around at the work she's done so far.

"If it makes you happy and fufilled, that's what you should do."

[marriedanidiot]

"Exactly." Nerdanel agrees with a smile. "I am fortunate to find my Art early, though. I knew what called to me very early - not all are as fortunate!"

[springforth]

Persephone opens her mouth for an easy reply, then thinks better, trailing her hands in the soil.

"How young were you? Did you always know that's what you wanted?"

[marriedanidiot]

She considers.

"I must have been in my second decade, I think." She muses. "Father let me follow him into the forges as soon as I was old enough to be trusted, but the song of fire and metal never called to me as stone did. I did try - father loved the forges so. But Lord Aule told me that he felt my calling was with him, yes, but not as father's was. And he was right!"

[springforth]

As a teenager. Persephone feels a little disappointed but keeps it to herself, only showing in the slight downturn of her smile. The rest helps a little.

"It didn't disappoint your father? Or was it close enough to what he did to make him happy?"

[marriedanidiot]

"Oh, no." She shakes her head. "Father was just happy I found my Art! And relatively early, at that. Some take until their first century, or even more."

[springforth]

The way she says art, like it's important, with that emphasis, gives her pause. Her questioning turns to a slightly different angle.

"Does everyone like you have an art? What happens when you don't? Or if you did and then wanted to do something else anyways."

[marriedanidiot]

Nerdanel considers that.

"Everyone has one." She says slowly. "But it may not be apparent - nor traditional! We Noldor certainly encourage our folk into certain streams, but it is not unusual for someone to not find their calling within such streams. Sometimes, what someone's Call is, is something so different it's never been done before! But there's nothing to say that all you need do for the rest of your life is your particular Art! One would get bored, after all. But everyone comes back to it, in the end. Even if it's only one part of the whole, it is still a necessary part."

[springforth]

"You make it sound so simple."

Tucking her legs under herself, she pulls inwards, head bowed, one hand thrust into the pocket of her hood, the other gesturing. It's important. For Emphasis.

"Like nothing ever goes wrong. I mean--don't you ever have parental expectations? Have you been told you should take one path your whole life only to find it hard to stick to?" Her hand presses into the dirt beside her and tiny flowers curl up from beneath her palm.

"Do your people really never have those problems? I thought mo...I thought everyone did."

[marriedanidiot]

Nerdanel shakes her head.

"Oh, but it isn't simple - well, it is, in one sense. But to know your Art, you must know yourself. Tis why for most it comes later. Folk like Feanaro or I, we are quite unusual - Feanaro because he... well. He's a genius. And I because I had the good fortune to have my Art at my literal fingertips, because of my father's own Art."

She nods. "Of course there are expectations! You should speak to Feanaro about that, if you want. He is the ... was the Haryon, the... Crown Prince, the Heir to the Throne. To choose the Art he did was... well. No one could gainsay him, but it was very much not what was expected, or encouraged. "

Nerdanel has always felt that that was why Nolofinwe was so loved, the second son who actually enjoyed politics.

"The difference I suppose between our culture and others is that to the Noldor, your Art is of surpassing importance."

[springforth]

You must know yourself? Easy to say, harder to do. But it's reassuring to hear that other came to it later in life. She frowns down at the flower beneath her hand.

"For my---culture..." She glares down, it's so hard to explain without spilling everything about herself. About her world.

"For me, it's hard. My mother wanted me to follow one path, my powers are made for it, I agreed to it. It's who I am. It's just not who I want to be, sometimes." With a thrust of her hands, she unfurls, leaning back on both hands to up at the ceiling. And those silly roses. "Why is your art so important to your culture? More so than others."

[marriedanidiot]

Nerdanel nods, thoughtfully. "Perhaps it isn't a perfect fit, then - sometimes, you need to see if there's a slightly different angle you can approach things from! Or, maybe, there is something different for you to do. The soul enjoys new things - trying something new may be exactly what you need."

She hums. "I don't know exactly, but it is... who we are. To be Noldor is to be curious. To seek to know the world, in all the ways that it can be known, and to express it in a way that brings it's beauty and it's wonder, and yes, sometimes it's terror, to the surface for others to see as well. All elves are like that, to some degree, but everyone expresses it differently. Although the need for explosions does seem to be a mostly Noldorin trait."