Illustrations from Orchids: Their Culture and Management, 1890.
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Illustrations from Orchids: Their Culture and Management, 1890.

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Itâs fine, Treason is a gateway drug!
Charity Stream For Felix.
The charity stream for Felix is going on. Please come join!Â
As many of you may have already heard, on Friday, March 3rd Felix Mullins   ( @thejudge ) and Ashley Green(@a-controlled-substance) were involved in a car crash when their car slid on ice and hit a semi truck.
Sadly Felix did not survive this crash.
His girlfriend Ashley Green is currently in the ICU with a brain injury and a skull fracture. The family could use some help with medical expenses and other various things so tomorrow night at 9pm CST I will be hosting a live stream where I will be playing OFF and Felixâs fangame HOME with some help from @lumberjonathan and @pseudotis. All proceeds from the live stream will go to support Ashleyâs recovery fund.
Through out the night we will be hosting auctions with prizes donated by @nightmargin @lumberjonathan @pseudotis and myself.
We will also be giving out various game codes throughout the night so please come join us and help out a family in need of support right now.
Please follow me @mutantrenegade for any updates about the stream including more information about the auctions and prizes that will be given throughout the night and please follow @gemboyadvance and the recovery fund for updates about Felix and Ashley.
If you have anything you would like to donate to the auction please message me and I will get back to you as soon as I can.
keeperofthe-gate:
Porter nodded in agreement, taking a deep breath before speaking again. âOh, my name is Porter. A-and no, youâre fine, youâre not disturbing me.â He put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, pulling his legs closer to his chest. He let out a short sigh. âItâs uh⌠nice to meet you.â
âLikewise.â Zeke is thankful, though Porter likely canât tell. Telling anyone his name always has some risk attached to it, but it doesnât seem like heâs heard of him. Good. Maybe the wanted posters have stopped circulating since he managed to evade capture last year. Perhaps heâs been pronounced legally dead or the like? Thatâd be useful.
âHhm... D-do you know anywhere I c-could stay the night? Iâve been t-travelling.â

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It's a busy day in Zone 3, and for that Zeke is thankful. It's much easier to hide in plain sight when you can simply move with the crowds. It's been a lot harder to find who he's looking for with all the other elsens milling around, though, so he's relieved to spot Rel; the longer he hangs around anywhere, the more likely he is to get caught. He slips out of the crowd to speak to them. "I'm r-running low on sugar. I've got much more to tell you if you're willing to share."
Relâs back straightened in surprise upon hearing the voice, having zoned out a little. With nobody to talk to, they often waited around the factory for their shift to start and daydream.
They cracked a grin when they realized it wasâŚ. erâŚ. the fact man, again. They had a few hours to kill, how convenient.
âThought I wouldnât see you again! Câmon, Iâve got sugar.â They gestured for Zeke to follow them, making their way towards their housing unit. Having been burned, they were housed a little ways out from the other Elsen, but still within shouting distance⌠sort of.
Zeke grins and trots after them eagerly. âOf c-course Iâd come back,â he says with a small laugh. âI l-like to share what I know, and I need sugar. Itâs only l-logical.â
That said, as heâs brought further out from the main housing section heâs still set on edge, and it settles in that heâs walking into the home of a stranger who was quite prepared to kill him before. He reassures himself a little with the knowledge that, as far as he can tell, Rel finds him more valuable alive than dead, and that counts for a lot in Vesper. They evidently havenât heard about the bounty on his head. Hopefully it stays that way for good while; this is a good gig, and the possibility getting attacked at some point beats the hell out of risking dying a thief every time he needs sugar.
((Iâm terribly sorry Iâve been absent! Iâve been gone because my girlfriendâs visited me for the first time and Iâve wanted to focus on her, so itâs a happy reason. Iâll be getting to more replies tomorrow.))
leftoverseer:
Cliveâs mouth twists to the side and looks over Zeke again in consideration. Whatâs this guy been up to, then. âYe, you do look different but, honestly, the workers here get 2 hours of guaranteed free time everyday besides showers and sleep. And theyâd mostly have their head in the desserts, they ainât gonna notice much about a guy who looks close enough but just has weird eyes and is a bit pink.â Zeke gives the other Elsen a bit too much credit, the ones who werenât sweetened up enough to notice where probably too busy wanting to get sweetened up. âLike, it ainât like youâre planning on robbing the sugar vaults or anything. Itâs the cafeteria,â he snorted slightly before turning around and began walking off. âLook,Iâm heading there anyway so if youâre jittery about it you can just come with me.â The offer was casual, the guy seemed weird before and heâs still weird but he doesnât seem like a dangerous sorta weird. At first impression, second impression??, anyway⌠âBesides. Iâm a good guy like that, wouldnât you say so, Mister Passing-Through?â
âTrue, I suppose.â Zeke knows what sugar-high elsen are like - hell, heâs had enough of the stuff to feel it himself, a few times - and he has to agree with Clive. They can barely remember their own names.
He almost flinches at the joke about the sugar vaults. Well... Hopefully he wonât have to do that again anytime soon. He catches up to Clive as he walks away.
âTh-that sounds wise. Iâll g-go with you. I think.â Itâd probably look a bit less suspicious if he walks in with a native worker. â...Though I d-donât know if Iâd call you âgoodâ just yet,â Zeke says, quirking an eyebrow.
It's a busy day in Zone 3, and for that Zeke is thankful. It's much easier to hide in plain sight when you can simply move with the crowds. It's been a lot harder to find who he's looking for with all the other elsens milling around, though, so he's relieved to spot Rel; the longer he hangs around anywhere, the more likely he is to get caught. He slips out of the crowd to speak to them. "I'm r-running low on sugar. I've got much more to tell you if you're willing to share."
Relâs back straightened in surprise upon hearing the voice, having zoned out a little. With nobody to talk to, they often waited around the factory for their shift to start and daydream.
They cracked a grin when they realized it wasâŚ. erâŚ. the fact man, again. They had a few hours to kill, how convenient.
âThought I wouldnât see you again! Câmon, Iâve got sugar.â They gestured for Zeke to follow them, making their way towards their housing unit. Having been burned, they were housed a little ways out from the other Elsen, but still within shouting distance⌠sort of.
Zeke grins. âHh-how could I walk away from a deal like that?â He follows them gladly, though internally he remains cautious. Thereâs always the possibility of a trap, so he prepares to run, strike, or both if necessary, especially once he reaches Relâs door. After all, they were absolutely prepared to take his life not so long ago.
keeperofthe-gate:
âNo, no, while I do enjoy being with my friends, it sometimes getsâŚ. tiring, y'know? So I take a walk, find a place to settle, and play guitar all I want before I feel comfortable going back.â Porter shrugged. âI donât know. Sometimes itâs too much. Knowing that people evenâŚ.. care.â He mumbled the last part, looking down at his burnt hands. âO-oh uh, sorry. I-I didnât mean for th-that to get all⌠uh⌠p-personal.â He shifted himself a little bit, nervous.
âItâs fine. I c-can relate.â Zeke sighs quietly and pauses for a moment before he continues, turning to look at the libraryâs tower at the centre of Bismark. âIt can feel strange, j-just knowing that people know you exist and that they actually like you, and just being around anyone c-can be too much sometimes.â He turns back to Porter, a little melancholy but content. He laughs softly. âSpeaking of p-personal, whatâs your n-name, anyway? M-mineâs Zeke. I hope Iâm not d-disturbing you, g-given what youâve told me.â

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leftoverseer:
Clive shrugs casually, part of him feeling unused to talking this amicably to another elsen. âItâs a living,â he could tell Zeke was a skeptic and honestly couldnât blame the guy, âdonât worry it wonât cost you money.â Okay, so the second hand feelings coming from Zeke were giving him the most amusement heâs felt in weeks, sue him. He doesnât want the guy too stressed out though, so he continues after a beat. âLike, you get a meal yeah. You have some, much as you want but you leave some. You give whatâs left to me and I read it from there. Simple enough.â Yeah, Clive probably wouldnât believe that either but hey. âIf you feel like giving it a go sometime, or you have some free time to spare after all, passing through. You could usually find me at the cafeteria. Gonna guess you know where that is?â Zeke doesnât look like heâs from Cliveâs Vesper but he definitely looks like he could be from another places Vesper.
Zeke listens curiously, though he squints at the last remark. Heâs already come to expect jabs and double entendres from Clive. âV-very funny. Yes, I do know where it is.â He lets it slide; in his experience Vesper elsens tend to be more laissez-faire about weight. Itâd be a little difficult not to be, in a lot of cases. It was certainly that way back in his home file.
He looks thoughtful. âD-do you honestly think theyâd just let me in and take a plate, though? I m-mean, really. Like you said, I d-donât exactly look native.â He shifts, a little uncomfortably, and breaks eye contact. âIâm, er, a b-bit hard up at the moment, so itâd help, at least.â
@rorichi
âIs that so? I-iâm not from around here too⌠but itâs a long storyâŚha haâŚâ Fleur laughs nervously, looking somewhere with a blank expression. âAh, y-yes, of cousre you can take it! I read it anywayâŚâ
Zeke frowns, concerned, as Fleur stares into the middle distance. âWell, th-thank you... Are you alright?â Everyone has their baggage, he supposes. He takes the book carefully, both as if the book is terribly valuable and as if heâs afraid to somehow hurt Fleur.
keeperofthe-gate:
âI get bored sometimes, yeah.â Porter shrugged. âBut I usually just stay around my friends. Another reason that I moved. Pretty much everyone I knew at the time lived in Zone 2, so.â He was surprised that this person didnât ask about his scars yet. Almost everyone did the first time they met him. It was odd, but he didnât mention it.
Zeke absently runs his fingers through the thick curls framing his forehead, and thereâs a glimpse of a long, ragged, dark grey scar hidden underneath them. It looks like heâs not so inclined to ask about scars because heâs got a few of his own. His brow furrows as he listens to Porter speak. âFf-friends, hm? I d-donât mean to be rude, b-but... I canât help but notice the p-past tense, is th-that why youâre out here? I m-mean... I w-wouldnât call this b-busking weather. C-canât you stay with the friends you have now?â
Zeke stops short when he realises another elsen is reaching for the same botany book as him. "Oh! I'm s-sorry. I d-didn't see you there."
Fleur rarely has an opportunity to talk to other elsens, thatâs why he seems very nervous when he hears unfamiliar elsen addressing him. âI-itâs okay! You may take it if you w-wantâŚâ Though he is very nervous, Fleur decides to continue the conservation, âUm⌠Iâve never seen you before, do you live somewhere near?â
Zeke slides the book from the shelf neatly, then pauses for a moment at Fleurâs question. âAh, no, n-not really. I donât live here,â he says, with a wan smile. âAre you quite sure you donât want this book? Iâm p-planning to take it out for a while.â
keeperofthe-gate:
Porter shrugged, looking over to the side for a bit and then back at the other elsen. He wasnât exactly comfortable talking about Zone 3, but he tried to not show it. âWell, Zone 3 is a lot more⌠organized. Itâs not as calm and quiet as Zone 2 is. I honestly prefer Zone 2 over Zone 3âŚâ
âFair,â Zeke says, with a little smile. âItâs d-definitely a lot more laid-back in some ways. Thatâs something I d-do like about Zone 2.â He notices Porter seems uncomfortable talking about Zone 3; he knows the feeling, so he drops it. âDo you ever get b-bored? Thereâs n-not much work around here.â

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leftoverseer:
Clive grinned at the others reaction and half-assedly brought a hand to his mouth to cover the suppressed laughing.
That was beautiful.
âOkay, passing through, could already tell youâre a file hopper. Not gonna lie its pretty obvious.â He said, gesturing casually at his own eyes to in point. âYouâre certainly prettier than the lot you tend to get around here, anyway.â Okay, yeah heâs being a asshole. âThough, I wouldnât worry about any of your Virtues,â Clive smirked, âthat ainât what I was offering. Iâm a fortune teller, one with a fairly good satisfaction rate around here.â
Zeke experiences a poorly-maintained kiddie-coaster of emotion: rather short and not terribly dramatic, yet still somewhat jarring.
First comes nervousness. Heâs perfectly aware that he doesnât quite blend in in this file, but it still sets him on edge to hear it stated so plainly. Heâs been finding it progressively harder to hide in general; he used to be pleased to be getting taller, but since many files have elsens on the shorter side, itâs getting difficult for him to disappear into a crowd even when things like his eyes donât give him away.
Then he is, admittedly, a little flustered. âPrettyâ is something he hasnât been called for a long time, and itâs pleasant to hear. Even if heâs not interested. (Not right now, anyway.)
Finally comes relief (he didnât much feel like trying to talk his way out of that politely) and curiosity. A fortune-teller? He hasnât encountered any fortune-telling elsens, as far as he can remember. Itâs probably bunk, but... Heâs not about to turn down even the smallest possible chance of an advantage. âFf-fortune-telling? Sounds... Interesting. Hh-howâs it work?â
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