Failure To Thrive
Characters: Marluxia
Content: What to do, when crabs and photosynthesis just aren't cutting it anymore...
Location: A supply center, then Marluxia's hidey-hole.
Time of Day: late afternoon
Warnings: NPC death. (Performed only with mod permission and mod review of content!)
Marluxia's garden, when it was lush and beautiful, a sated deep green sprinkled throughout with blossoms, was his pride and joy--when it was lush. Winter months were always hard on him, even when he did have a greenhouse; keeping his plants alive here, in this abandoned building and basement, in Manhattan, in the dreary depths of winter, was finally proving to be impossible with the resources at hand. The rations of plant food he'd managed to scavenge would barely last to spring even stretched as thin as they were. The crabs, while not scarce at all, provided little meat and much exoskeleton, along with being a royal pain to slaughter properly--and even on a diet of only the most nutritious bits of crab, several plants he could not afford to lose were beginning to wilt, their leaves to yellow, their yield to reduce. It was when the L.magnavorus began to lose teeth that Marluxia came to the grim conclusion.
Drastic measures were called for.
Calmly and with mind clear and level, he climbed upstairs and shed his gardening gloves and soiled clothes, then stepped into the shower--shampoo his hair twice and condition, remove all traces of crab offal--emerging to brush his teeth, comb his hair, wash his face before getting into a fuzzy green turtleneck and khaki pants, even applying a little cologne before stepping out and heading...to the supply center. It was a lengthy walk, and he used it to arrange his face into it's most normal, most affectionate expression, to rehearse what he would say--the trap he would lay.
He was alone when he entered the building, but he loitered about, looking like he was considering what to retrieve and bring back home, until a promising target walked through the door: Tall, slightly overweight, with short blonde hair, looking to be perhaps in her late teens or early twenties. He made sure she saw him when she entered (she did, and looked for longer than was strictly necessary), then left her to her own devices, pretending all along that he was only browsing in a way that meandered closer to her (she threw glances at him every now and again), and made his move when she picked up a box of sandwich cookies. Wasn't it good that there were enough for everyone this week? Oh no, no, you don't eat too much. I think you look just fine. Ha ha, yes, if only they had chocolates too. What a coincidence, truffles are my favorite too. This time of year is so dreary--yes January is bad but--you think February is the worst month of the year? What a coincidence, so do I. Only good thing about it is Valentine's day--Oh, don't call it that. I bet you're constantly beating them off with a sti--oh? You're looking for someone?
What a coincidence, so am I.
"I happen to be a florist, so Valentine's Day is a little...hectic for me," Marluxia said, smiling as she giggled. "But I think it's worth it." He kept his eyes on her, a smile lingering on his lips...she with a smile on hers as well; she looked away and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear for the fifth time during this conversation. "You know," he said, pitching his voice a little higher, "I've been able to keep some of my flowers alive here--maybe you would like to see them? To pick out one for your date?"
She'd be delighted to.
The walk back to his home probably pssed quickly for her, as it was full of animated conversation, the only lulls leading to contemplation of what would come next...it was considerably longer for Marluxia, who felt the burden of keeping her interested, on whose shoulders lurked the fear of her suddenly quailing, backing out, and his crafted persona having no in-character choice but to let her go... At long last, they reached his door, Marluxia heaving an internal sigh of relief as he turned over his shoulder, apologizing for what a dive his place was--she told him she didn't mind, her eyes flickering from his feet to his face and a tenuous smile flickering on her lips telling him she wouldn't mind so much more... he opened the door and led her inside.
It was silent now, as he led her down the stairs, her mind on other things...then came the sight of his first, his most inoffensive plants: a tray of red shoots, blisteringly, burningly red.
"Oh wow," She said as she leaned over, hands on her knees. "What are they called?"
"Mandragora," Marluxia said in an offhand tone as he reached for something on top of a high shelf.
"How do they get to be so red?" She asked, peering closely at their serrated leaves. "Special kind of plant food?"
"You could say that--" and then he bent over her, hunting knife he'd retrieved at the ready--it was over in seconds, and he let her bleed out over that tray before hauling the body further into his lair. A strange keening came from the tray of red plants, to which Marluxia said "You're welcome," before continuing his work.
Content: What to do, when crabs and photosynthesis just aren't cutting it anymore...
Location: A supply center, then Marluxia's hidey-hole.
Time of Day: late afternoon
Warnings: NPC death. (Performed only with mod permission and mod review of content!)
Marluxia's garden, when it was lush and beautiful, a sated deep green sprinkled throughout with blossoms, was his pride and joy--when it was lush. Winter months were always hard on him, even when he did have a greenhouse; keeping his plants alive here, in this abandoned building and basement, in Manhattan, in the dreary depths of winter, was finally proving to be impossible with the resources at hand. The rations of plant food he'd managed to scavenge would barely last to spring even stretched as thin as they were. The crabs, while not scarce at all, provided little meat and much exoskeleton, along with being a royal pain to slaughter properly--and even on a diet of only the most nutritious bits of crab, several plants he could not afford to lose were beginning to wilt, their leaves to yellow, their yield to reduce. It was when the L.magnavorus began to lose teeth that Marluxia came to the grim conclusion.
Drastic measures were called for.
Calmly and with mind clear and level, he climbed upstairs and shed his gardening gloves and soiled clothes, then stepped into the shower--shampoo his hair twice and condition, remove all traces of crab offal--emerging to brush his teeth, comb his hair, wash his face before getting into a fuzzy green turtleneck and khaki pants, even applying a little cologne before stepping out and heading...to the supply center. It was a lengthy walk, and he used it to arrange his face into it's most normal, most affectionate expression, to rehearse what he would say--the trap he would lay.
He was alone when he entered the building, but he loitered about, looking like he was considering what to retrieve and bring back home, until a promising target walked through the door: Tall, slightly overweight, with short blonde hair, looking to be perhaps in her late teens or early twenties. He made sure she saw him when she entered (she did, and looked for longer than was strictly necessary), then left her to her own devices, pretending all along that he was only browsing in a way that meandered closer to her (she threw glances at him every now and again), and made his move when she picked up a box of sandwich cookies. Wasn't it good that there were enough for everyone this week? Oh no, no, you don't eat too much. I think you look just fine. Ha ha, yes, if only they had chocolates too. What a coincidence, truffles are my favorite too. This time of year is so dreary--yes January is bad but--you think February is the worst month of the year? What a coincidence, so do I. Only good thing about it is Valentine's day--Oh, don't call it that. I bet you're constantly beating them off with a sti--oh? You're looking for someone?
What a coincidence, so am I.
"I happen to be a florist, so Valentine's Day is a little...hectic for me," Marluxia said, smiling as she giggled. "But I think it's worth it." He kept his eyes on her, a smile lingering on his lips...she with a smile on hers as well; she looked away and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear for the fifth time during this conversation. "You know," he said, pitching his voice a little higher, "I've been able to keep some of my flowers alive here--maybe you would like to see them? To pick out one for your date?"
She'd be delighted to.
The walk back to his home probably pssed quickly for her, as it was full of animated conversation, the only lulls leading to contemplation of what would come next...it was considerably longer for Marluxia, who felt the burden of keeping her interested, on whose shoulders lurked the fear of her suddenly quailing, backing out, and his crafted persona having no in-character choice but to let her go... At long last, they reached his door, Marluxia heaving an internal sigh of relief as he turned over his shoulder, apologizing for what a dive his place was--she told him she didn't mind, her eyes flickering from his feet to his face and a tenuous smile flickering on her lips telling him she wouldn't mind so much more... he opened the door and led her inside.
It was silent now, as he led her down the stairs, her mind on other things...then came the sight of his first, his most inoffensive plants: a tray of red shoots, blisteringly, burningly red.
"Oh wow," She said as she leaned over, hands on her knees. "What are they called?"
"Mandragora," Marluxia said in an offhand tone as he reached for something on top of a high shelf.
"How do they get to be so red?" She asked, peering closely at their serrated leaves. "Special kind of plant food?"
"You could say that--" and then he bent over her, hunting knife he'd retrieved at the ready--it was over in seconds, and he let her bleed out over that tray before hauling the body further into his lair. A strange keening came from the tray of red plants, to which Marluxia said "You're welcome," before continuing his work.