Daxton's trip to the Greenhouses had had to wait until he had found some free time to get to the student potion labs to brew some allergy potions. This was further complicated by the fact that he preferred to work in solitude, and had to coordinate his free hours with the quietest times for the Potions lab. But he had managed it. Sort of. The allergy potion he had brewed was not of the one-dose-per-year kind, as that potion required a spell to finish it off. Additionally, it was unthinkable that he drink a potion brewed by someone else, so drinking a pre-made potion was out of the question.

Instead, he had daily potions for allergies, potions to be taken in the case of an acute attack. Enough to get him at least to mid-autumn, by which point the atrocity that was summer and everything that came with it should have worn off. Then he would only have to worry about animal fur, feathers, dust, and the plants from Herbology.

Which brought things full circle, as Daxton was visiting those very plants from Herbology today. He had picked a quiet time to come down here, though not quite such a strange time as to attract unwanted attention from anyone who might see him making his way through the castle and grounds. Already dosed up on his allergy potion, Daxton slipped into Greenhouse One, opening up his bag to reveal the myriad of potions vials he had brought with him.

The task of today was simple. Daxton had been wondering all through summer, just how plants might react to different potions, or even simple potion ingredients and components, added to their soil. Would an alihotsy plant produce a higher concentration per leaf of the active alihotsy ingredient, if an Elixir to Induce Euphoria was added to its soil? Might a Sadness Draught have any effect on the health of a plant? Could the Draught of Living Death have the same effect on a plant that it would on a human, including application of an antidote? Would the Wiggenweld Potion in its own right make a plant grow any faster, larger, stronger, healthier? What effect would the Essence of Insanity have on one of the more active plants, including the Flesh-Eaters, compared to more mundane plants? Could Amortentia cause the Venomous Tentacula to take a liking to the human that watered it with the potion, preventing it from attacking in future? What effect, if any, would the Girding Potion have on a variety of plants, what would the differences be from plant species to plant species, plant to plant, and did the environment make a difference? If he added the year-long Antillergen Potion, could he create anti-allergenic plants? Would it kill them? What about a Hate Potion? A Shrivelling Potion?

Questions, Daxton had so many of them, and the best way to answer those questions was to test his theories, and he had many of them. Slowly, methodically, he moved through the Greenhouses - One, Two, and Three - pouring different potions and ingredients (some he had brewed or collected himself, others he had stolen or collected from the school supply) into the soil of various plants or even the plants themselves, documenting everything in a brand new notebook in which he had outlined each of his experiments. In his mind, it was all in the pursuit of knowledge and education, and he did not recognise it as 'wrong', not one bit. The Greenhouses were open and unguarded, and a school was a place for furthering one's education, and he had no qualms about even all the plants ultimately dying, or potentially going rogue. The feelings of a certain Hogwarts Herbologist did not even remotely enter the equation.

Soon all that was left was Daxton's school bag full of empty potion vials, vials that he kept hold of for later use, not wanting to waste something he would later need for himself anyway. For his final move, he stepped into Greenhouse Four, sure to keep his wits about him, exiting again ten minutes later, his bag slightly heavier and growing warmer by the second thanks to the lit lantern inside (a necessary safety measure).

With his notebook held in hand, Daxton started back towards the castle, intending to make a few other stops before returning to the library to continue some Very Important Research.

His daily sweep of the Greenhouses had come. It was a few days into term, and the coming of the students usually...affected the plants. Some ways good, some ways bad. But overall, the more care they received the better off they were.

O_____O

WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME. Greenhouse One, his flutterbies were wilting..almost completely dead. And all of his mundane flowers had all but dried up...they were...still salvageable but...it made him very sad. What had gone on in this greenhouse? Paul spent a few hours repotting some, giving them water, not noticing anything amiss. His Honking Daffodils were howling up a storm, their buds all but shrunk. Not DYING shrunk...literally, shrunk, as if MAGIC had plagued them....

And then it happened in Green Two. His chomping cabbage was...sickly, not able to CHOMP. Browning and yellowing...and...more mundane plants were close to death. His Bubotubers were LEAKING, killing and affecting the plants around them. It was then that he decided to check Greenhouse Three, and what he saw in there...MORE destruction. More plants dying. More wilting. His screechsnaps had INCREASED in size greatly but their sounds were off, like they had colds--

"Oh my poor things--" Paul said softly, blinking away his emotions. "Okay okay--it's okay--" the screechsnaps were struggling to get out of their TOO SMALL pots. They were not too small..a few days before???? He knew...someone had sabotaged his Greenhouses. Why ELSE would all of them have sickly plants? He raced to Greenhouse Four...and while things seemed normal in here, he noticed the Venomous Tentacula curling its vines away from his entrance. WHO had been in here? Paul could feel it.

HE COULD BLOODY FEEL IT.

He had to repot so many things. He had to CARE for so many things. His heart...Paul spend the day doing his BEST to fix what he could...to revive what he good. He had lost an entire species of plant, thought. The Flutterbies. Gone. All of them.

His wand shaking from the tremble of his VERY angry hands, Paul set up defenses around each greenhouse. As soon as someone stepped foot in there, he'd hear a ringing in his office and he would be here in a flash...

He needed and WANTED to catch this culprit. As for the flutterbies...their corpses lay in a huge tin to the side of the greenhouse. He would use them for compost. A few of the Bubotubers had lost their lives as well, but at least not ALL of them.

Oh, woe be to the person who did this to Paul Myers' plants. They would regret it.

Daxton had been returning to the Greenhouses every day since his initial visit, having taken an allergy potion each time, and meticulously documented the changes in the plants he was experimenting on. It had now been five days since the start of the process, and Daxton had been intrigued (though in most cases unsurprised) by the results. He intended to keep returning each day until the changes plateaued, and maybe to see if they might magically return to their original state with no further tampering. Not including the already-dead ones, of course.

Except that this time, when Daxton stepped into Greenhouse One armed with his notebook and pen, he could tell at once that something was amiss. The plants, the environment... it was all different. His experiments... someone had moved or tampered with them or completely disposed of them. A surge of annoyance and something close to despair surged through him, and Daxton stepped further into the greenhouse to investigate, attempting to find any surviving plants, wondering if those in the other greenhouses remained.

He doubted he would find anything, though. Almost a week's worth of work... gone.

That. Was. IT. The charms he had set up went off EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. a student had stepped into the Greenhouses lately...luckily, people were still feeling lazy from the summer. AKA--not too much action.

It was when he saw Daxton Prince, looking around curiously (at least Paul THOUGHT he looked curious) and a NOTEBOOK in his hand. He squinted. He didn't know if he trusted the boy in here--and while it was WILDLY unfair, Paul had already confirmed in his head that Mr. Prince was the culprit, just now. The worst version of himself...was here.

"MR. PRINCE." Paul boomed loudly, crossing his arms around his chest, blocking the door as he shut it behind him with his foot. "What are you doing in here, Daxton?" he asked, his tone...sharp. "And boy, you tell me. Whether you need to sign or write it down, I don't care," he eyed the dead flitterbies in the corner.

One second, Daxton had been approaching the plants, frowning, and the next, he had heard the faint sounds of rapidly approaching footsteps. He barely had time to process what he was hearing, who the footsteps likely belonged to, and whether they were headed this way, before the door was flung open and a great booming voice - familiar and yet so very alien - filled the greenhouse.

Startled, Daxton jolted and did an immediate about-face, his heart racing and his ears ringing. It was Myers, of course; he had known that, just not entirely managed to process how different his voice had sounded. He stared at him while his heart continued to race and the sound of his blood rushing filled his ears, and noted that Myers was stood blocking the only exit.

Panic.

With his heart still beating so hard he thought that his chest might be visibly twitched, Daxton gripped his notebook tightly. He refused to let the anxiety become anymore evident than it had already made itself, that was for sure, even though alarm bells were ringing in his head and all manner of confusing thoughts were rushing around, one after the other. In an attempt to keep up his usual facade, Daxton fixed the most unconcerned expression he could muster onto his features, and just stared.

After a long moment of silence, Daxton finally held out his notebook, by way of answer, having opened it up to his 'plant experiment' page, where all the observations were noted. He was tense, alert, eyeing Myers very carefully, painfully aware of the fact that this was a very unpredictable situation.

Paul snatched the book, angrily, from Daxton and stared down at the words...the words. All of the potions..all of it. The observations..everything. Paul was seething. His hands trembled. "You...you came in here...a place for productive learning, for PRODUCTIVE experimentation, and used it to your whimsical and frightening FANCIES, did you?" Paul's voice raised slightly. "For your own damn amusement you killed them--"he gestured at the flutterbies. "For WHAT purpose, Mr. Prince?" He shoved the notebook back towards him, trying to...control his anger.

Paul Myers rarely got angry. So when he did...

"You went into THREE greenhouses and harmed almost the ENTIRETY of all the plants! My SCREECHSNAPS ARE THE SIZE OF PUMPKINS--" and that was not as funny as it sounded, okay? IT WAS INFURIATING.

Milton would not like it if you MURDERED this child Paul... and He's not RIGHT clearly...he doesn't even seem SORRY-- and DOES HE THINK THIS KIND OF EXPERIMENTATION IS ETHICAL? all rang through his head as his face literally grew redder and redder. "FORTY-FIVE POINTS--FORTY-FIVE from Ravenclaw." Not the boy cared. Paul could have taken a hundred and Daxton would have stared at him, right as blankly as he was now.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ANYTHING THAT I'M SAYING?"

So... that was why he was so angry? Because of the plants? In a way, that was... actually quite funny. Of all the things Daxton had ever done at school, in all the trouble he had caused, and the one time that a professor had effectively blown up at him... had been for something Daxton had not even considered to be wrong. An accidental misdemeanour (or, the way Myers was going on about it, more like a felony). There was just something... so poetic about that.

Though, even as he recognised that, the thought crossed Daxton's mind that even if he had known it was apparently wrong - although he maintained that this was productive experimentation, in its own right - he would have done it anyway. For science. Mostly.

It did not take much of an increase in volume for Myers' voice to really get to Daxton. He winced at the yelling, especially the way the sound reverberated off the glass walls of the greenhouse and bounced back to get him on the return journey. Automatically, he covered his ears with his hands, though it did very little to block out the sound, and instinctively took a step backwards away from Myers, yet keeping his eyes firmly fixed on him. Even when the man essentially asked him why, Daxton gave no response... though that was partly because he no longer had his notebook to do so.

Until it was thrust back at him. Daxton glanced at it, but did not reach out to take it, preferring to keep his ears covered; he found it unlikely that Myers was finished shouting.

This was altogether quite unexpected. Myers had always been one of the softest teachers Daxton had ever met; countless times before he had privately remarked on how he was far too nice and mellow, and how it was infuriating, how he had seemed impossible to antagonise. If Daxton were not already non-verbal, this interaction with Myers would have stunned him into silence. Instead he was more... stunned into stillness. The unconcerned expression was gone, and now Daxton looked utterly blank, blue eyes slightly wider than usual, hands still pressed firmly over his ears, elbows and arms drawn in over his chest rather than out to the sides, a subconscious effort to make himself as small as possible.

Okay, points... well, whatever. Daxton had never cared about those. Rather than focus on that, he had instead become fixated on just how red Myers' face had gone, how the growing intensity of that scarlet hue did not seem to be stopping. He had been so focused on the red face, in fact, that at the last booming question, Daxton gave another start of surprise, and took another half step back. He had really made an error here. Myers seemed mad enough to try and feed him to a man-eating plant, and there really was no way out, and Daxton could not even perform magic to get himself out. Nobody even knew he was here, so Myers would get away with it too.

Realising that Myers was actually waiting for an answer, Daxton gave one simple and slow nod of the head; even if he did not necessarily understand or agree with some of those earlier statements, he understood the rest of it just fine.

Yelling was done. Paul felt much better just from...that display. He needed to do an extremely loooooong session of yoga to make up for all the negativity. As soon as the boy put his hands over his ears...Paul sighed, touching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and middle finger. "I...am sorry. I should not have shouted." And cue guilt on top of...very dense anger.

"Do...you know...what you've done wrong, Daxton?" he asked, softly. "Be honest," he said sharply, but still just as soft. He felt like he needed a good cry. He missed Milton, and he wanted to go home where his private Greenhouses were safe, sound, and well cared for. "If you wanted..plants to experiment on, Daxton, you could have asked me. I would have given you a few. And even if you HAD killed them--" he winced, "It wouldn't have been an entire SPECIES of flutterbies I had here." Now he had to...order new seedlings, grow them from little buds.

And he just noticed. "M'boy--" he usually glazed over uniforms. He didn't CARE about uniforms...self expression all the way! But..."You...you need new uniforms...or...they need to be tailored--do you know how to sew?"

WHAT IN THE WORLD COULD HE DO ABOUT DAXTON PRINCE?

It seemed as though all the shouting was done and finished with, but Daxton did not quite trust that that was the case. He kept his hands over his ears, but lessened the pressure just so, in order be able to hear the now much quieter Myers.

Apologies meant nothing to Daxton, and so he ignored the one he received. Though... there was that question, which was a tricky one. Technically, yes, he did now know what he had done that was perceived by Myers as 'wrong', but only because Myers himself had just screeched it loud enough for the entire school to hear. Still with his ears covered, Daxton looked across at a row of nearby plants, the ones that had either escaped the experiments, had positive or neutral reactions to the potions, or were being nursed back to health. Though he technically had now been informed of being in the wrong, he could not honestly say that he felt as though he had done anything bad, just as he felt no remorse, and the only regret he had was to do with allowing himself to be cornered in the greenhouse like this.

The problem, a problem Daxton had faced in a detention only last year as it happened, was that this was a very alarming thing to reveal to anyone. Daxton, who had a vast array of knowledge on a great many subjects, always fell flat when it came to right and wrong, good and evil, anything regarding morality. But what he did know, was that a lack of understanding was considered something of a warning sign. It was easiest to act intentionally belligerent to avoid repercussions in that particular sector. And so, warily lowering his hands from his ears, Daxton simply shrugged as his answer, and at last took back his notebook.

And then... the uniform. Daxton, who had by now completely stopped looking at Myers, looked down at his clothes instead. What was so wrong with them? They were only second-hand, well-worn yet repaired in places by the previous owner, and Daxton had only acquired them in the summer before coming back for his third year, which technically made this uniform new. He had not cared about it being too big, preferring his clothes to not be too close-fitting, and expecting to grow even taller in the coming year alone. Really, given the circumstances, and given how his last uniform had been far too small and literally falling apart last year, these clothes were in good shape. Aside from anything else, the subject of his school uniform veered far too close to that oh-so-delicate subject of money - or rather, his lack of it.

So, naturally, Daxton ignored Myers' words, avoiding the subject most unsubtly. Instead, he opened up his notebook again, and looked to the pages with the recorded experiments. Four days of observations just wasn't enough. His experiments had been ruined, and it had all been pointless. Any one of those plants might have had a delayed reaction.

Daxton glanced up at Myers for just a split second, an altogether unhappy expression on his face, wondering if he would move out of the way any time soon. Now he had no reason to be here, Daxton wanted to put as much space between himself and Myers as possible.

What..was going on inside his head? Daxton's head? Paul would have paid big money to know..he had the big money to spend on it, too, but...sigh. Unethical, wasn't it? He rather felt like using those 'mencies (legilimency and occlumency) could be a bit dicey.

But the boy DID look...uncomfortable. "Daxton. Communicate with me. Communicate," he said softly. "WHAT did you want to experiment for? Do you want me to set aside plants for you to experiment ON with...proper experimentations?" he asked, knowing he would full regret that later on if Daxton obliged.

Oh, and, "You have detention with me every Saturday for the next month." Thought he should add that in there. "Because it is wrong to kill defenseless plants for the sake of experimentation. There's a thing call ETHICS...look it up." Unless he knew the way ethics worked in a field of study already.

As it happened, Daxton did not want to communicate. Not right now, and he immediately gave a small shake of the head to communicate as such, not looking back up. But Myers was still blocking the door and Daxton did not actually want to risk causing the man to (figuratively) blow up at him again, not right now, so he made a point of flipping to a fresh page of his notebook.

He wrote even as Myers went on about detention. A month's worth of Saturday detentions, at that. It was annoying, because Daxton primarily used his weekends to catch up on much-needed sleep, or else to spend time on his own private studies or business without risking being found by a member of staff who thought it more important that he attend his actual lessons. But, true to his nature, Daxton did not react, and simply wrote his answer to Myers' previous question.

'I wanted to see what would happen.'

It was not the entire truth, but it was enough of it to be getting on with. The entire truth included the fact that Daxton was just plain bored. With everything in general, but also with the dull nature of all things around him. Everything had the potential for improvement, and, more importantly, to be made more interesting. Daxton could argue that he was experimenting on the plants for some kind of practical reason, such as the properties of the plants in potions or their use in everyday life. He could argue that he had wanted to exercise his power, control, and influence over them. Both would be somewhat true. But the fact at the very heart of the matter was that it was an act born of curiosity. He had simply wanted to see what would happen to the plants. He had wanted to experiment purely for the sake of it, and saw very little, if anything, wrong with that.

At Myers' last comment, Daxton glanced up again, regarding the professor with his intense blue-eyed stare. He looked thoughtful, considering matters very carefully. A moment later, he added something else to his notebook, then held it up for Myers to read.

'I wanted to see what would happen.

Why is it wrong?'

He was satisfied at Daxton FINALLY saying something to him, SOMETHING was better than nothing. His old, blue eyes squinted at the words. Why is it wrong? He sighed and rubbed his face once more.

"It's wrong because.." Merlin. Paul didn't want to push his ideals on anyone. "I'll ask you that after our first detention." Though he wasn't sure what it did to even give the boy detention at this point; it almost felt unfair, especially it seemed Daxton just didn't understand.

"Would you allow me to experiment on you, Mr. Prince?" he asked suddenly, leaning against the wall behind him, arms crossed over his chest. "What's the first potion you used on my plants? ON your list? Would you let me give that to you--overdosed, just to see what it would do?"

With an answer like that, Daxton was fairly certain that Myers did not actually have any idea as to why he thought experimenting on plants was wrong. Either that, or he thought that Daxton was the one that would not understand. Daxton found that he did not actually mind the latter so much; he had a tendency to avoid revealing his true potential and intelligence, for a multitude of reasons. That did not mean it was easy to accept people thinking he was an idiot, but it was often beneficial.

That next question was an interesting one. Daxton looked down at his notebook, flipping back to the experiment pages despite remembering exactly what, and in what order, was written there. He had listed the plants in the order that they appeared in his circuit around the greenhouse, and then whatever he had added to said plant was written alongside it, in the next column along. The first on his list simply said 'Fatiguing Fusion'.

Daxton considered it for just a fraction of a second. That would be an interesting experiment; he had never taken a Fatiguing Fusion before, what with fighting a daily battle to maintain functional levels of energy as it was. He was interested to see what might happen. But Myers was proposing an experiment where Daxton took too much of the potion, just to see what would happen, and though Daxton was curious at the thought of it, he was aware that an overdose of any potion could have unpleasant effects. But it was something to think about. Though Daxton saw the plants as disposable and frankly unimportant, he was not above experimenting on himself either. Letting others experiment on him, though? Not likely.

In the end, when Daxton looked up again, he gave just a simple shrug of his shoulders, as though he did not care what Myers did in the slightest. His eyes, however, were practically blazing in defiance. In his mind, Myers' hypothetical suggestion was, in fact, what he was already planning on doing. There was little chance of escaping that, no point in complaining complaining about it, in making a big show of being opposed to the idea. It was better to be defiant, to act like he did not care, to keep control of the situation, and to practically dare the professor to go ahead and try it.

"Oh, really, now?" Paul asked, quite disbelieving that Daxton Prince would let ANYONE, much less Paul Myers, to slip him too much of a Fatiguing Fusion. "I don't believe that. You'd defend yourself before you ever let me do that--no no, don't act like you don't care, m'boy---because you do."

Paul knew he did. At least a tiny bit, Daxton care for himself a TINY bit, right? He thought Daxton seemed the type to be all about preservation, right? He couldn't be sure--but that was the impression he got from Daxtion.

"This Saturday is our first detention. Dress comfortably, because we'll be getting our hands dirty." Paul stared at Daxton very seriously and stepped aside from the door. "You may go now. And do NOT experiment on my plants without my permission first...every again, Mr. Prince."

Naturally, Daxton gave no response, did not allow Myers the satisfaction of a reaction. He tried his best to stay as impassive as possible - fortunately for him, Daxton did not find it particularly easy to give anything away at the best of times, and that went doubly so for emotions.

As for acting like he did not care, that was not necessary. Because Daxton did not care. About anything.

Ever.

And he would stick to that claim, no matter what.

Finally, the exit was unimpeded, and Daxton found himself relaxing the tiniest amount - enough that he realised how tense he had been up until that moment, and enough that he realised how anxious he still was. At once, he made for the door, keeping as wide a berth from Myers as it was possible to get while walking right past him. With one last glance toward Myers - the only sign that he had acknowledged anything the man had said about detentions and future experiments - Daxton pulled open the door and darted right out.

He retreated from the greenhouse as fast as possible, glancing behind him every now and then for fear of having his back too exposed, and finally allowed himself a moment to think about the impending detentions. No doubt Myers would want to make it as unpleasant as possible, and Daxton was interested to see just what that would entail.

The weather was getting colder, which meant that it was getting closer to December. Normally, Azura would have been over the moon. She loved all things about winter. Snow, Christmas, her thirteenth birthday was coming up.. But all of that could barely get a smile out of her this year.

Her mother's birthday was coming up as well. Her mom loved the Snow.. after all her maiden name was Snow. She felt like it was a part of her somehow. And her birthday.. They had planned on having a combination birthday/birthday/Christmas celebration this year.. Azura chocked a little as her mom had called her the best late birthday/early Christmas present ever.

Tears burned in her purple eyes, but still none of them fell down her face. She put a hand to her heart as she entered the greenhouses.. The pain was getting worse.. It felt so hard to breathe sometimes. She needed to talk to Brady, or Jace.. Maybe even Noah.. But he had his own problems..

She stopped for a moment and took a small breath, trying to steady herself as she gazed at the flowers, hoping she would be able to somehow be distracted by all the plants around her.

News of what happened to the greenhouses had spread weeks ago and it was still hard to picture Professor Myers being angry and giving a student detention. Then again, it was more than justified seeing as poor plants had been killed. Just weird because the man was always so happy and friendly.

Heading inside Greenhouse One, she spotted Azura looking at some of the flowers. "Poor things, huh?" she asked before noticing the look on her friend's face. "It it..." Esme paused for a moment before continuing, "...what happened?" She wasn't going to say the MOM word.

With a sigh, Bethany strolled slowly into Greenhouse One, really she was bored, and the annoying headache that had plagued her since she had woken up that morning wasn't helping. Initially she had tried the library, hoping maybe she could get some work done whilst also calming her literally throbbing head, that whole thing about killing two birds with one stone, ya know.

Yeah, that didn't work.

And so here she was, maybe spending an hour with some pretty flowers would help. She walked toward the daffodils, after all she'd always preferred muggle plants over wizarding ones...

Azura had knelt down and was looking at the poor plants, she wanted to help as much as she could. Maybe if she could help them bring back to life.. well.. at least they would be able to make someone smile. That would be helpful right?

Her hand was still on her chest, clutching it slightly as she bit her lip.. Wincing as she tried to take a breath.. She could do this! She turned though as she heard a voice and a small smile stole over her face.

"Hey Esme." She said with a smile at her friend. "Oh.. It's just been hard to breathe lately.. probably the cold weather." Mmmm, yeah.. that wasn't going to fly, but at least it was.. somewhat sort of close to the truth?

*sigh*

"It hurts.. All the time.. Every day.. My heart hurts."

Hard to breathe? That didn't sound good. Esme raised her brow in concern. "Have you been to see Healer Murdoch?" That was the best advice that she could give, not having any idea about how healing magic worked. Of course her mother had some skill as a Healer, but she hadn't pursued it as a career or really passed down any of the information to her children. Oh well. Murdoch could probably deal with everything since she was very good at her job even if the bedside manner was more than lacking.

Unfortunately the problems went deeper than that - obviously. Losing a parent had to be really hard; it was something that Esme didn't even want to imagine because it made her really sad. That wasn't important, however. It mattered a lot more that Azura was feeling really upset. "Do you want to talk about it more?" Sometimes talking helped even if it was just restating things that had already been mentioned.

Yes.. Yes...

Azura.. must find.. Pretty.. Here?

Be here?

The teen lumbered into the Greenhouses.. her eyes lazily searching for..

Must.. Find.. Azura must find..

Find Red..

She stiffly turned around and moved jerkily forward.. Find flowerrrssss..

Pretty flowersss..

She moved forward and grabbed a handful of roses..

Prettttyyyy Flowersssssssss Azura likes flowerssss

She turned and wandered off.. flowers still in her hand..

Somewhere...

Book was somewhere...

Walking stiffly into the greenhouse, Esme knocked plants over. Searching in soil. Book need be SOMEWHERE here. Need to. No luck... might be on table. Or flower beds. Keep looking until find book.

Flowers ripped out of pots and others tossed as they were. Esme ignore sounds of shattering clay pots. Not important. Only book important. Where? Where book??? Not seeing it anywhere... Wander to another table and keep looking. Dig up more flowers. Looking in soil.

Had to be hidden in soil.

Had to.

Juno was just walking passed the Greenhouses when she got the tingly sensation that she always got when Esme was near. Then she heard pots shattering. She gasped and rushed inside.

She stood in the doorway utterly confused as to why her sister had made such a mess. This wasn't like her at all. She watched as her sister continued to through plants, soil, and pots everywhere.

Juno calmly walked towards her sister, "Esme...what are you doing, exactly?"

This was very strange.

Rose thorns. They were here somewhere.

She had crawled through the garden. Now she would crawl through the greenhouses.

"Kitty needs thorns," the Gothic zombie muttered to herself obsessively as she crawled into one of the greenhouses and began searching.

She climbed on top of one of the tables and began pushing plants over the edge.

A very pretty pink flower loomed in front of her. Kitty shoved it into her mouth and swallowed.

Thorns! Thorns! Thorns!