crocodile tears

There was something about the academy that made breaking the law seem like such a trivial matter. It quickly became apparent that next to, oh, the kidnapping, involuntary drugging, et cetera, that was the norm in the academy, a little contraband marijuana or cigarettes in your possession wasn’t anything to feel too bad about.

This, however, didn’t mean that there weren’t supposedly dire consequences in store for anyone who got caught ( although, truthfully, Lynn had a hunch that by now at least some of the higher-ups must have already had an idea of what was going on but didn’t care enough to do anything about it ) so Lynn made it her business to ensure that she wasn’t – as best as she could, at least.

Thus, this led her to be in her current position: the only person standing in a quiet, unpopular spot somewhere off to the side of the school, not quite in the forest but bordering on the edge, waiting for Valerie Hyeon. She tapped a finger against her outer thigh, messenger bag slung over her shoulder, eyes trained in front of her as she waited to catch sight of the girl.

She wasn’t worried about being caught, truthfully, Valerie only spent a moment worrying about it when faced with someone she didn’t quite trust--but as far as carrying product and dropping it off to someone who she had in a theoretical vice? She was golden, and cool as a cucumber.

So Vals skipped up beside the woman clearly waiting for her, in a cute skirt that flounced with her movements, since she’d rolled it at the top to be shorter than originally intended. “Hi, guy. Wassup, how you doin, how you livin? Enjoying the weather?” Her grin was over-bright in greeting; she was just in a chipper mood--for now.

This was the part of Elswood Rory couldn’t recall ever being introduced to, if she was then it was easily forgotten since her interest in plants and taking care of them was pretty neglectful, although she did try. This was probably something she shouldn’t bring up in the company of Valerie Hyeon though.

Once they got there, Rory could tell why the green club had to situate outside, the glass structure was overwhelmed with vines and greenery, the scent was fresh and similar to what she expected a rainforest to smell like – possibly an exaggeration, but she didn’t know. And leaves, leaves everywhere. That whiff had already woken her up more, she almost missed what Vals said as she took everything in. “Got it.” She wanted to suggest waiting there, by the door, for Vals to get whatever it was she was getting, but damn her curiosity! Just no touching, that’s all she had to do. Not touch anything.

Once they were both inside, she let well-oiled spring ease the door closed, and made her way around vibrant planting tables to the left side of the building.Moving easily in a space as familiar as her own room, she slid between the glass and one table, walking down to where a section of short, hardy-looking plants lived in glossy, red pots. Bending forward, she leaned into one plant’s personal space and viewed a leaf up close, running her fingers up one stalk. 

With a nimble dexterity, almost too fast to track, she pinched a leaf off and rubbed a thumb over the new stump, moving onto the next plant, which was less leaf and more stalk, while handing the leaf over to Rory. “Chew on this. It’ll be slightly minty.” 

Vals started walking in the direction and Rory began to follow, unsure if she should say anything, maybe question what exactly this ‘something’ was, but instead all she could ask was “Is this… where they have the green club?”

Making her way down the path, Valerie tilted her head left to right and back, as an ambivalent response to the question. “Sort of. We tend to meet in the grassy area behind the greenhouse for most of our gatherings. There’s too many people to have all in the building at one time, as the plants are very responsive to all the junk that we exhale and exude.” This was more technical language than Valerie normally used, but botany had a way of making her sound more professional. And she was also just really overprotective of her babies. 

Which was clear as she reverently opened the door of the greenhouse, basking in the climate controlled, warm air for a moment, before she moved aside to let Rory through. “Don’t touch anything.”

Before he knew it, the Ignis adviser had marched over and was yelling right in his face. This brought him back to his kiddy days, when old angry women would look down at him and scold him for being naughty. Nope. Not today, not anymore. He was a man now. If he would get yelled at, he’d be the one looking down on her. With that in mind, Oliver pushed the chair back and rose from it, letting every inch he had unfold before Valerie. 

( … now what? )

“Ease down, crazy. It was an accident,” he explained, his traitorous hands coming up in front of his chest, looking like he was surrendering for something. “Did you get burned?” Oliver asked and tried to lean closer and look at the spot on her arm where the flame had caught on her blazer (the blazer she murdered in her little fit). “Looks fine. And that thing didn’t look good on you anyway. You’re welcome.” It was hard to feel bad, considering their last encounter where she left him with the desire to set her skirt on fire. Was this life’s way of giving Valerie what she deserved? 

Valerie did a full 180 in the tone of her voice, dropping it from it’s previous decibel and pitch to calmly and quietly state her concerns. “I am not crazy. It is not crazy to react loudly to catching. on. fucking. fire. Whether I was physically injured or not. What’s crazy is you standing here and trying to back talk me like you didn’t just set me ablaze with your inability to master your own fucking power. It should be taken away from you if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

Then she poked a finger into his chest. “And never dare to say something doesn’t look good on me again--EVERYTHING looks good on me. Dumbass.”

With more than a half hour left till his first class (World Cultures, kill him now) Oliver had settled into the mindless circle of snapping his fingers and getting no results. I mean, he got a sound out, but that was not the purpose of this exercise. This must have been going on for at least fifteen minutes, because the tips of his fingers hurt like a bitch and there was nothing happening, no matter his efforts. Except for that one snap. The last one. He was just about to snap his fingers again, when the focus of his eyes shifted and the blurred background became clear. There it was, the little spark, bright and smoking as it burned through a person’s sleeve. “Oh, shit.” With a gasp, he realized he had set someone slightly on fire. 

When she did, however, she immediately SCREAMED, not so much out of fear, or even shock, but a blinding rage that hit hard and fast. The scream didn’t taper down, but she bit it off abruptly, to focus on getting her blazer off her shoulders and onto the ground where she could stomp on any remaining embers. Her next move was not to mourn her garment, that would come soon, but to find the culprit. It was an easy search, seeing the dumb fucking expression on dumb Oliver’s face.

Vals closed the few yards between them quickly in a series of big strides to yell directly into his face. “WHAT THE ACTUAL SUPERHUMAN FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU!” Then a struggle commenced for her to shut her mouth long enough to hear an answer, and she almost went on with a profane litany regardless, but instead just panted hot lungfuls of silent rage.

“Oh yeah, sure—I’m an incompetent, sexist, discriminatory janitor for not letting you fall on your ass where I’ve clearly marked that I’m working,” he sighed dramatically, leaning in on his mop. “What kind of nerve.”

“Unless you can teleport to the other side, I unfortunately, have to discriminate you from passing through here—it’s a safety thing and all.”

“Listen.” She leaned forward and pitched her voice into a low growl, different from the borderline hysterics of only a moment ago. “I know you’re being all condescending and sarcastic right now, and I’m sure you’re very proud of securing you’re stretch of hallway. This power struggle is probably the highlight of your week and you’ll go beat off about how you stood your ground and took that power trip, but that feeling will not last for long, so enjoy it while you can, because you will come to regret it.”

Vals was almost shaking with the force she put into her words, plus the pain of a full bladder and rocky shoe–but she still turned swiftly on her heel and moved into a proud march back the other way. He may have won this battle in his own mind, but he had no victory in her war.

Shit, Vals had her there. The nurses’ office was quite a distance from where they were though, so that was a valid excuse. Rory shrugged, but kept up her friendly demeanor. “Kinda, but they were probably on their lunch or something.”

Sighing, as if it were a lot to do right now, she nevertheless stood from her seat on the bench. “I have something for a headache, but you’ll have to follow me to the greenhouse.” She pointed a few buildings down from where they stood, toward the cozy white and glass structure, her main territory, and more of a home to her than her dorm room. 

Before confirming Rory was willing to come along, she stepped away along the path she’d pointed down. If the girl didn’t follow, well that was still one less headache.