(Untitled)

[mmquitecontrary]

Mary Lennox is clutching a book, today, as she enters the bar; she makes her way over to the counter, climbs up onto a seat, and sits down to flip through it, a faint scowl of a frown on her face

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[mark_of_samael]

You know that feeling of someone reading over your shoulder?

Yeah.

[mmquitecontrary]

Mary isn't necessarily what you'd call perceptive in a lot of areas - but that's a feeling that's particularly hard to ignore.

After a moment, Mary looks up and turns around, her brow furrowed slightly crossly.

"What is it?"

[mark_of_samael]

She takes a step back, frightened.

"i didn't mean to..."

[mmquitecontrary]

Mary's look turns from 'slightly cross' to 'slightly confused'.

She's not used to anyone being afraid of her unless they're a native servant - and Alessa doesn't look Indian.

"You did not mean to what?"

[mark_of_samael]

She flinches.

"i... wanted to see..."

[mmquitecontrary]

"Oh, well, it is only trees," Mary says, and holds out the book to show her, willingly enough.

The specific tree being discussed on the page Mary shows her is the apple tree; the page looks somewhat well-thumbed.

"I do not know very much about them," she adds, matter-of-factly, "so I am trying to learn. Why are you so frightened? Trees are not very frightening."

[mark_of_samael]

She blinks.

"you might be mean..."

She looks at the tree admiringly. "the ones in the park were different."

[mmquitecontrary]

Mary considers this statement with the seriousness it deserves.

"I am contrary," she says, thoughtfully, after a moment, "but it is not the same thing. Also, you are larger than I am, so I likely could not hurt you much even if I were.

This is only one kind of tree," she adds, her tone helpfully patronizing. "There are many different kinds, but this is the sort I am thinking about growing."

[mark_of_samael]

"contrary..." She frowns at the unfamiliar word. "smaller things hurt bigger things... and hurt without touching."
a desk, isolated, the wood top carved angrily:
Thief
Go Home
Drop Dead
angry voices:
"Witch!"
And then she regards Mary with awe. "You can make them grow?"

[mmquitecontrary]

"Hurt without touching?"

That gets a frown back. "You mean as in hurt feelings?"

Mary is slightly scornful (though really, she shouldn't be, considering how touchy her own feelings tend to be), but is quickly distracted by the next question.

"Anyone can help them grow," she says, and her face gains a small smile. "All you need to do is make sure they have sunlight and water, and room to breathe - it is not very hard."

[mark_of_samael]

"sunlight... room to breathe..." She seems to space out for a moment.

"do you do it a lot?"

[mmquitecontrary]

"Oh, yes. I have two gardens," Mary says, more than a little proudly.

"One at home, and one here - and they are both growing, growing well."

[mark_of_samael]

"two..." This is clearly an impressive feat!

Then, she blinks. "You can go home?"

[mmquitecontrary]

"Yes," Mary says. "There is a door in my uncle's gardens, although it is not always open from there - but it is always open to go home from here."

She eyes the older girl. "You cannot?"

[mark_of_samael]

She shakes her head. "i looked... there's a lake, there, too, but..."

And then she looks over her shoulder at part of the ceiling.

"it's all blocked up."

[mmquitecontrary]

Mary frowns, a little.

Reasonably: "The door, or the lake?"