Eye Spy!

The greenhouse stands along one wall of the garden, the trees surrounding its immediate perimeter cleared away so full sun falls upon its length for the entire day. Its frame is comprised of white wrought-iron, strong despite its decorative appearance, built to support the thickly-crafted glass panes that substitute for side walls and high ceilings. Two stories high, the oblong building is one part jungle retreat, one part hothouse garden, for though its function is to provide medicinal plants for the infirmary, and keep the weyr in fruits, vegetables, and herbs in off-seasons, the addition of a fountain, a variety of flowering plants, and a clump of palm trees at either end make it an arboretum of sorts, giving respite and relief from Xanadu's dreary, green-starved winter months.
Ornately-fashioned columns and rafters are of the same white wrought-iron as are the staircases at either end, each set of stairs a narrow spiral that leads up to a wide catwalk skirting the upper reaches of the greenhouse. Benches and circular tables are stationed under the perimeter of domed ceilings located on the ends of the oblong building, where palms planted below reach skyward and provide some seclusion. The potted presence of flowering herbs, plumeria, and night-blooming jasmine fill the air with a fresh, spicy, sometimes heady scent.
White gravel floors provide drainage for the automatic sprinklers that mist the plants, cleverly divided and set to different times for different sections. Down the long center aisle, waist-high planting beds are tilted to provide easy access to the weyr's denizens. Beneath are cupboards and drawers containing planting supplies such as seeds, bags of potting soil, fertilizer, pots and hand tools, along with several signs encouraging the careful addition of favorite plants to their appropriate beds. A work bench for potting plants and a closet for shovels, rakes and wheelbarrows have been tucked unobtrusively into one corner, accessible to anyone who might spy them amidst carefully-kept shrubbery.

Even in the heat of Xanadu's summer, the gardening still needs to be tended to. The pretty green things and the nice smelling things demand their sacrificial offering of sweat from the brows of Candidates. Percival is used to the heat being in the kitchens and the chill of the freezer but the green house offers a different kind of heat. The disgusting humid kind! The kind that makes all the nooks and crannies feel slippery and slidy with every vigorous movement the butcher-turned-candidate makes. "Damn weeds. It's all weeds. You plant? Right there? You're a weed. There's only one thing to solve weeds," he mutters. "And that's some fucking FIRE. F-I-R-E." You know, the burny stuff. The young man wipes the sweat from his brow using the back of his hand but then he frowns, blinking quickly. There's gotta be something cleaner he can use for this…

Maybe especially in the heat of Xanadu's summer, because along comes Rhodelia with possibly the largest watering can her scrawny-ish arms can hold. The walking is awkward trying not to slosh all the water out as she drops the watering can WITH A PURPOSE right by her fellow candidate's feet. "Phew…" She might not have thought she'd make it but she did and so job partly done, Rhody grabs a bandana from her back pocket and dab dab dabs at her brow. The clean way. "Maybe you're the weed and that's why you think everything else is. Eye of the beholder and stuff…"

Did that watering can just sass me? Percival pauses, glancing down at the watering can and his wet feet, blinking while those gears turn but in the end, the man just sighs and tilts his head over to Rhodelia. "Flattered but here isn't a good place, it's too humid and we can't charge per show. Too many windows." As much as the general populace would love Percival to bloom into some bright and floral scented monstrosity, it's just not in the cards. "Oh, right. Those things, I have one of them." Reaching into his pocket, Percy pulls out his own handkerchief and quickly makes use of it before shoving it back into a different one entirely. Hanging out of the original home of that hanky is a very well used and battered black questionable leather loop. "Well, if they say you are what you eat, then I could be worse things." All said with a wide grin and a over exaggerated wiggling of brows. For now, he'll pick up the watering can, waiting for Giblets to lead the way. Maybe he can drown his weedy sorrows instead.

"How is being called weedy flattering?" It might be the heat getting to her head or maybe the butcher cut up his own brains long ago, but Rhody is lost, confused and blinking. But since he's going to pick up the watering can, she'll happily start leading the way and take on pointing duty. As each step presumably jingles that loop a little more, eventually she notices it and tilts. "Something's about to fall out of your pants…. oh, and those flowers. They said water all the blue ones, but not the reds." There are definitely some blue and some white and some purple and some red flowers in there. Some of them multicolored, so good luck figuring it out?

Percival pauses mid-pour as she points out the dangly but he just shrugs, making sure he's drowning the correct plants. The Giblets shall smite the flora of the weyr with a point of her finger and the Percival shall layeth the smite down. "What about the purple ones. Should I only water half of them or only sprinkle water in their general direction?" Either way he did and didn't, but who knows, the roots are probably intertangled anyway. "Um, I guess just grab it before I lose it in these damn flowers. If we can't water 'em, probably not going to be able to go sifting through 'em, either. Besides, they're not my color. I prefer the tiny white ones and that little weird thing that eats bugs in the corner."

Hear that plants? RHODY HAS THE POWER! TREMBLE IN FEAR! Rhodelia certainly doesn't take her new found responsibility with much seriousness (don't tell Stefyr) as she simply gives a shrug at Percy's question. "I think you just turn around really fast three times while pouring the water near them and hope." That sounds about right on how to get the purple plants partially watered seeing as they're both blue and red. "Grab it?" She cocks an eyebrow as if asking someone to save something from falling out one's pants is a crazy request, but regardless, her finger is reaching for that falling loop before it can run away to flowery hideaway and when she actually gets a hold of it… her head is tilting in surprise the opposit way. "Is this what I think it is?" IT'd be very hard for that tiny strip of black leather to be anything else. It's a very distinguishable fashion after all.

"Oh, right. Forgot about that thing," he says with a crooked smile. Percival straightens up from his watering for a moment before lowering the can to the ground. He rubs his hands together, holding his palm up towards Rhodelia and wiggling those gimme fingers until the patch is back in his hand. Once secured, he wastes no time applying the eyepatch and making sure it's adjusted just right. "Look at me, I'm straight from a romance novel that was left in a rubbish bin outside of the aunties room but you're too frightened to throw me away incase I come for you in your sleep!" Percy guffaws, picking up the watering can. "Look at me making all the greens wet, including that scrawny sketchy lookin' thing there!" That's right plant. You asked for it, here it is. The Ila'smoulder!

"Forgot about it? How do you forget about a thing like that?" With Rhodelia too busy questioning, it won't take long for those gimme fingers to work their way to possession of the purloined goods. And really, she's itching for the story, but the itching will wait while she snickers at the impression. "Bet you're too much of a scaredy wherry to do the impression to his face. The side with the good eye…" Not the blind side although that would also take an impressive amount of nerves to attempt. "How did you even get the patch? Was he asleep?" TELL HER YOUR SECRET WAYS, PERCY! SHE INSISTS!

"Scarred Wherry? Giblets, that… that sounds like a challenge. Is the all powerful Giblets challenging me?" Giddy. Look at that man's face! Percival's visible eye is bright and his grin is wide. He might be tapping his foot while he's thinking of a good way to get Ila'den's attention. The eyepatch should be sufficient enough, but the stage and his supporting cast is just as important. "Oh, I got it from him in the hotsprings. He came in already heated and ready to go but relinquishing his hold on the precious eyepatch was all he could do in all of my glory." Sarcasm. "I don't reveal my secrets, Giblets. It keeps things exciting."
Molotov> Keruthien has arrived.

Rhodelia waggles her eyebrows at the mention of the challenge. This is definintely the face of a woman throwing down a metaphorical gauntlet all over a very real eyepatch. "Although… it would be a shame if Ila'den were to eat you." He might be a sometimes Meatloaf, but this one is not edible. "There might be some safety in numbers. Could probably talk Keruthien and Stefyr into joining with you… Maybe not Stefyr." Her fellow assistant has been trying to stay on the good boy side of things lately after all. Definitely the smith though. "I think I overheard R'hyn commissioning a cake as well. Someone's turnday coming up?" The musings are interrupted with a snort. "I think it would have been more exciting if you lied. Finding out he just handed it to you is a bit of a let down after all." She expected GLORY. A FIGHT. SOMETHING IN ALL CAPS.

"Wait… Did you say cake? and turnday?" Percival slowly takes one step closer to Rhodelia, amber eyes seeking out the joke in her own and he eagerly awaits. "Oh man, this challenge is getting better by the second and it's been a while since I've had this much…" The butcher begin rubbing his hands together, glancing around the greenhouse while he starts collecting ideas. "Giblets, you're a genius. An evil genius, but I like the way you think. We'll… make sure we don't miss this party. It would be oh SO bad for Ila'den's morale. Moreso for the turnday recipient. Keruthien and Stefyr definitely have to get in on this." Just handed? A letdown? Percival sends a sidelong gaze over to Rhody and he offers a quiet chuckle, "Well, the handing might've taken some work, but we don't speak about those things." Nope, the firelizard that almost met it's demise would rather it's reputation but be ruined more than being owned by the bronzerider.

"Yeeeeeesssss…." Rhodelia drawls out that confirmation as she slowly picks up what he's picking up. There may be a few more details to be worked out, but worked out they will be. Or maybe not and it will all be lies, just like Percival's glory. One thing is for sure… there's soon going to be quite a few more eyepatches floating around good old Xanadu Weyr. And maybe a few overwatered plants in the greenhouse. Don't tell the gardeners.

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