You guys with your wheels

River
At a greenhouse, you see. River still had an apartment. Sure, she liked spending time with Sam. Sure, she enjoyed being over there and propping her legs up on her hermit of a boyfriend. Sure, she liked a lot of things but at the end of the day River Vasquez had to come back to town more often than she would like so, if this is going to be the case, she is just going to have to get used to it. If she is going to have to be in Denver, she is going to have to get used to it.

Spring is coming.

You can tell by the way that she walks down the aisles and aisles at the green house that she is looking forward to it. Gearing up. Her whole being is abuzz and alight (so radiant, so shining) with the prospect of what is to come. She is Sunshine. Has no problem with being sunshine because it would be antithetical to her being to be anything other than delight and literal warmth.

So, there she is, trying to pick out a bougainvillea despite the protests of the service associate who seems a little wary of the fact that this woman is buying a near tropical plant in Denver. It's the only one this greenhouse has, truth be told. She's already got herbs in her basket. And seed packets of all sorts of varieties. River has never not had plants in her life, but she usually kept them in pots. Some part of her wonders if she should broach the subject of moving in at some point with Sam, but decides against it. Too early.

"... do you have juicing carrots?"

Nicholas Hyde
There are not so very many greenhouses in town, which makes the process of selecting one relatively easy.  Nicholas Hyde is here on a mission today; this involves a rather sizeable checklist of items that he is looking for that span the range from gravel to herb seedlings to a small sapling.  Whoever had the House of Hyde and Mars before Hyde and Mars had it had no interest in either landscaping or gardening, which has left Nick with a lot of weekend projects.  Of the two of them, Nick has been the one who has done most of the painting and rearranging and minor repairs, and he will probably do most of the work outside as well; he is a person who cares about having his home feel like a place he lives in.

Spring is coming.

Nick does not exude any kind of excitement regarding this, but looking at him, one would get the impression that Nick never exudes very much.  There is this hushed, quiet aura that hangs about him, compounded by the utter silence of his footfalls on first the concrete and later the packed earth of the greenhouse.  He carries something of the Sacred with him.

He is rolling a cart, which holds many of the aforementioned items.  Nick is a slender man, and next to the lush greenery he might even look a little wan: a head full of curly dark hair, light brown skin and eyes that belie a sort of world-weariness no matter how else he carries himself.  He seems lost in thought, looking first at his phone (the list is on his phone - it is indeed the modern era) and then over the rack of seedling packets in front of him.  So many seedlings, and such an unfamiliar climate - without the warm arid winds of Arizona where he grew up, nor the chill moisture of New England where he was living until recently.  Denver is a mystery.

He looks at River once, if only because - well, he had assumed she knew what she was doing until he saw her buying a bougainvillea, which will be doomed here.  That and juicing carrots.

Nick keeps one ear to the conversation, mainly out of idle interest, and both eyes on the seedlings.  He looks like he's staring off into space, like he's somewhere else, as though he isn't paying attention at all.  Sometimes first impressions lie.

River
Do you have juicing carrots?
"Check whole foods?" the salesperson says, biting her lower lip  and taking in the Hispanic woman who is talking to her.

River is neither tall nor short, but she is fit. She does stand with her feet planted firmly and does stand up straight and tall and aware of th space that she is taking up. River doesn't sink into the ground. River doesn't cower, but instead stands bright and with purpose- little ball of sunshine that she is. She still has an accent, the lilt and cadence of her voice indicating that English may not be her first language.

It is her second. The second in a string of many; River collects languagesin the same way old women collect decorative spoons from rest stops.

Nick looks at River once.

River looks at him twice- the first look is when she's adjusting the gods-awful pink purse of hers over her shoulder while pondering flower pots and then again when the little sales associate has wandered off to go find a tombstone for the ill-fated piece of California that River is going to put in her home. So, there she is, looking over bright pink folliage that is just barely trying to flower. It'll stop once it's done growing, they only flower on new growth anyway. She huffs, and gives herself a rest from her planned execution of a tropical plant and, instead, goes to the seedlings.

She has glitter in her ponytail. She's wearing yoga pants and shoes that come off easily. Her toenails are turquoise.

"I wish I had a lawn," she says to herself, almost mournful, as her eyes wander from seedlings to saplings.


Nicholas Hyde
Nicholas, let it be noted, does not lecture her or comment on the likely fate of her California flower.  Nicholas is the sort of man who is aware that women do not like when a strange man tries to posture over them in a greenhouse and presumes to know more than they do about a topic, and prefers to avoid that sort of casual patronization (even if he is right, today.)  As the sales associate wanders off, his eyes follow her.  They are light brown, nearly the same color as his skin, and are striking in their way.

He is wearing a pair of well worn and heavy canvas pants, quite appropriate for the work he looks like he will probably do upon leaving this greenhouse, and a thick knitted dark grey cardigan that looks like it belongs on someone who is over twice Nick Hyde's late twenty-early thirtysomething years.

River has commented on the arrangement of items on his cart, and Nick, who did not have a lawn either until around three months ago, looks at them too.  "I'm regretting the ambitiousness of my lawn plans today," he says, and his voice has the pleasant timbre of someone who talks for a living, and right now it is just touched with a sort of rue.

He straightens as he regards the woman in front of him, who he can sense that Something lingering about, even if he has not picked up on the specifics yet.  Random encounters are sometimes the way of things in any city.

River
She looks at his cart again, and her mind wanders to the WPA for a second and FDR and she isn't entirely certain as to why. River looks pretty comfortable. Her hair is dark, her eyes are dark, her skin is slightly tanned and they both seem like the type of people who like to be outside, even if she is going to slowly killing that poor plant without some kind of magickal intervention.

"They should be fine," she tells him, with a massive vote of confidence this one. She looks over the plants again, "it is more of a... week... end... ish... plan?"

She's trying to make it sound small, look at her! Look at her trying to make it sound small and like it is manageable and like it is something that he doesn't have to be daunted by. Such confidence.

"It looks fun!"
Said with complete sincerity.


Nicholas Hyde
Nicholas follows her gaze to his plants, to the bushes and tree he will be putting into the newly turned beds out in his backyard.  The seedlings, well, they will likely have to wait; there's still the risk of cold snaps and, he is aware, still the risk of snow this late in the year.  There are ways in which some of the rockier areas outside of Denver resemble his home state, but it is not.

"Some of it will probably go in this weekend," he says, and here he catches one of the leaves of his little tree between his fingertips.  This is almost an affectionate gesture, as though he'd chosen this moment to scratch the head of a beloved pet.

Nick really wants a dog, see.  He's still working on Pen.  For now, a tree will do.

Before his eyes return to River he casts a look around for the sales associate, habit even though they aren't talking about anything especially incriminating or bizarre at this point in time.  Just a pair of friendly strangers.  "My name is Nick, by the way."

Nicholas Hyde
[Aaaaaand Awareness.]

Dice: 7 d10 TN6 (1, 2, 2, 2, 3, 5, 8) ( success x 1 )

Grace
[Awareness! Woo!]

Dice: 5 d10 TN6 (2, 7, 8, 8, 9) ( success x 4 )

River
And it isn't just a demeanor thing, it is something literal. She is literally like the sun, a warmth and brightness that comes off of her like the is some Marian aparition, like she might crest some hilltop and suddenly there she would be amidst a field of flowers. She is radiant, yes, but it picks up in morethan just her smile or the play of her hair, it is insistent radiance. Like something that knows This Is How It Will Be because she said so. Because that is how the cycle says.

Dawning from winter and blooming into spring, she was not tinged with permafrost nor did she speak of a harvest. She was the beginning, the middle- some point in there because that is the thing with circles, it's hard to tell where they ever began.

"I'm River," she says, with a bright smile and an offered hand and not a drop of nail polish on her fingernails. "It's nice to meet you, Nick," though she has a hard time with a short i sound. More like a long E that is clipped too soon. "I think the last freeze date is in April? So we are not far off, they should be fine."

Grace
Grace is on a mission. (When is she not, the question begs.) She's looking for something small, something portable, perhaps something that could be easily packed up and moved if the necessity required it. Something without a lot of soil to get all over the car if it were to tip over. It's a really strange request.

Who goes to a greenhouse and asks for a car-plant? Grace does.

The poor, beleaguered Sleeper salesguy doesn't have to know it's because she's gunning for a Chloe IV -- a quantum computer that can survive speed bumps. He really wouldn't understand that bit.

"What about something with a root system that'll just, you know, hold on to all the dirt?" she asks, making grabby motions with her fingers, to illustrate.

The salesguy -- James, by his nametag, scratches his head.

Grace lifts her head, like she's sniffing at the air. People she knows are here. That's perfect. They don't know everything yet, and they need to.

"Hold that thought. Think on it. I'll be right back," she says, and abandons James to go rush up to River and Nick.

Nicholas Hyde
River extends her hand to him, and there is this moment in which -

Well.  There will always be people that we feel as though we've met before, won't there? Perhaps it's River's accent, just that way that she clips the i in his name the way some members of his extended family do, or maybe it's this radiance she carries that reminds him just briefly of Pen.  Regardless.  He reaches for her hand, and there is this split second hesitation before he shakes.  It is there and gone again.

Nicholas, who feels like he ought to belong in some fairy circle in the deep woods or highland barrow, somewhere of whispered secrets, old and with the hawks circling overhead and no one around, smiles as she exchanges pleasantries with him.  He is friendly in this warm and impersonal way that many people who work with people all day are friendly: not quite practiced, but certainly choosing what to project.

"Hopefully they'll be fine.  I haven't been in Denver very long, I'll be disappointed if the snow kills everything off."

Something out of the corner of his eye catches his attention then, and there is this quick flicker of surprise that bows his eyebrows together as he sees Grace.  "Hello."

River
"Eh, the weather is not too bad?" she said, shrugged a little, "we've avoided the kinds of blizzards that I thought we would have so  knock on-"

she reaches forward to knock on the little tree, only to think better of it because she seems like she might feel bad about the prospect of brutalizing the little thing. Like her bad luck and curse may rub off on it.

Which was about, of course, the time that she noticed Grace, Grace who was making ehr way over to them very, very quickly. Grace who seemed very intent on making sure that whatever she was doing could be done in their presence and-

"You're buying plants?" she asks with surprise. Didn't think Grace would buy a plant, given the state of her fridge.

Grace
Grace looks at River a little confused. Plants? The train of her mind, once on a track, is hard to derail. She'd forgotten about them, until all the green in the place reminds her again. "Oh! Yes. Plants. A plant. Maybe a backup." That certainly explains things.

"River. Nick. Hi," she says, gives them both a strange sort of smile.

"Maybe a hydroponic setup. They have to have them, with all the people who like growing weed..."

Nicholas Hyde
So, pleasant smalltalk with River, which is all well and good given that they've just met.  It's a game, in a way, this offer little bits of information without stating the obvious.  How much can they get around it.

It's a good game.  Nicholas is fond of it.

However, now that the Elite is here he shifts his stance so that he can accommodate Grace too, still keeping one hand lightly tethered on the cart carrying the verdant cluster of plants that he hopes will soon reside in his backyard, if the blizzards stay merciful.  Ah: and River knows Grace, which means River is safe.  Ish.  Perhaps.

"A hydroponic setup for what?  Do you garden?"  And Nick, to his credit, tries not to sound surprised because he really doesn't want to stereotype anyone, but he does.  He does sound surprised.

River
"It's a good thing you don't have issues with electricity if you are going with a hydroponic set up," she says, "the amount of electricity it takes to actually produce good-quality indoor grown marijuana is astounding."

She says it like it is a lament, like she doesn't know Samir and didn't live in Colorado and wouldn't have access to good weed anyway. She does, however, know enough to know how that kind of rig would work. She ponders for a second and then-

"Grace, should I be afraid of whatever it is you're growing?"

Grace
Again, she looks at River a bit confused. "It's going to be a plant, River," she says, but then remembers being snagged at the ankle by possessed root shamblers. "I'm not going to be infesting it with zombie blood or anything, geez."

"I don't garden at all, actually. I keep killing my desk plant. Now I need one that can go with me in the car."

Again, not really an explanation there, Grace.

"But that's beside the point. River? Don't call Ginger anymore. And also, don't go by the Office. Stuff's happened."

Nicholas Hyde
Stuff's happened, and something about calling Ginger who is maybe another person Nick doesn't know yet, and don't go by the Office.  The Chakravanti's expression as he looks between both River and Grace is a quizzical thing.

He says nothing.  In these situations it is not unusual for Nicholas to default to silence; one frequently learns so much more that way.

River
"... I was going to make a joke about past lives and ex-wives, but it fell flat in my mind and now I'm just..."

She looks at Grace, from Nick to Grace and she cocked her head tot he side. Crossed her arms across her chest and adopts a concerned expression.

"Are you okay?"

Grace
"That really depends on your definition of 'okay'," Grace says, trying to dodge the subject.

"I mean... maybe?" she shrugs. Leans in and whispers in River's ear.

Grace
"I may have led the Denver Technocrats to the Office a few days ago when I hacked them. Maybe."

River
The sound that River Vasquez makes is like she started to sneeze and then a water balloon hit her.

Nicholas Hyde
Oh, and the interest this rouses in Nick is so intense and so sudden that they can see it.  Grace leans forward and whispers in River's ear, and he gives her this very intent look, this very sharp thing.  "Is this the kind of conversation it's more appropriate to have elsewhere?"  There is a note of apology there in his voice as he adds, "I'm missing what you mean by 'Ginger' and 'the Office,' Grace."

Grace
She shakes her head at Nick. "Pen knows everything. Did she not tell you yet? Ask her. It is kind of the conversation we shouldn't be having in a..." she looks around. "Greenhouse."

River gets a worried look, because of that strangled noise she just made. "Look, it'll be okay. Other people are off doing more dangerous things."

Like that makes it better, Grace.

Nicholas Hyde
Nick's brows furrow, at that.  "All right. I'll ask Pen."

River
River looked at the two of them, hears somethign about Pen and River... can't quite place the name. She's been off doing whatever it is that exotic dancer Chakravanti do in their spare time when they aren't hanging out in a trailer in the middle of nowhere waiting for spring to come.

"Grace, you are not so good at this comforting assuring thing," she tells her, pats her on the shoulder, "maybe we could... walk and talk? Or... hmmn."

She frowns, and starts to rummage through her purse.

Grace
"Well, okay," she says to Nick, taking his furrowed-brow expression as a bit of upset. "The Office is where I used to live."

Used to.

She lowers her voice a bit. "And uh... yeah. You were there at the meeting, right? Our favorite people in the world may have found out where The Office is. Ginger's my private information-disseminating service, and she's been cracked open like a safe."

Nicholas Hyde
River begins to rummage through her purse; Nick looks toward his plants then, and there is a glance toward the waiting cash register that is its own sort of significant, if they are all planning to walk and talk.  Because he does want a better understanding of what is going on, that much is plain.

Fortunately, though, Grace offers this explanation.  "I was at the meeting," he confirms, though it would not have been unreasonable if anyone had missed him.  Nicholas spent much of it sitting and listening.  To what Grace says, his mouth forms a thin line and there is this short little nod.  "I see.  So...how much secure information do they have access to then?"

A beat.  "I need to buy my plants.  But we can talk more or I can talk to Pen when I get home, or you two can..."  And he waves at the two of them, gesturing in a manner that means he will not be offended should they go.

River
"Do you want to be my room mate?" she asks Grace, "I'm getting a plant, you have the guaranty that I will give you and your person the appropriate amount of personal space if he stays the night. I have two bedrooms and Ihsan moved."

Because, clearly, River can't keep friends. She tries, but she just... can't. They either move or die or something of the sort. She smiles like she means it, like she likes the idea of having Grace around and being able to keep her safe and various and sundry things.

Grace
Yeah, Nick. River is safe people. That should be fairly obvious by now. "That'd be great, actually. I'm bunking with Kalen right now, but it would be nice to have multiple crashing spots. Also, all his property is pretty... maybe unsafe right now."

"And I need to buy my plants. Travelling plants," Grace says, sighs. "I suck at horticulture. This is going to be an adventure..."

She turns to look at Nick. "Pretty much, like, every threat we've faced for a while, they know something about it. But, I mean, we come off as pretty kickass and awesome. They might even be fairly okay with us, because we're taking care of so much shit. Who knows."

Nicholas Hyde
Nick may have spoken to a few Technocratic operatives in his time working where he works; this is a possibility he always considers every time he speaks with a particularly brilliant doctor or other medical professional, the few times he has run into traces of resonance at conferences.  He may have interacted with them, and perhaps found some common ground.

This thought is not far from him now, and he processes this on some deeper level even as he is listening to them talk about roommates.  "Maybe.  I'm sure we have sympathizers there, or we would all be dead already."

Grace
"You say that, Nick. I don't know. Maybe it's more like they have more pressing issues to attend to. Like we do," she says, tilting her head with the thought.

She sighs. "But yeah, there's sympathizers. Or at least, people pretending hard to be sympathetic."

River
"Until we know for certain what is going on and what the repercussions are, I think we should stay safe? Not necessarily assume that we are all going to die horrible deaths and be re... written?" like English is failing her and she just doesn't know what to do with the Technocracy in this regard or how that even works.

"And not demonize them more than necessary. Nothing good comes from reducing a human organization into a state of others Runs risk of making us stagnate," she says it like that would be a shame, a travesty, like that would be the truest wrong that could be done.

"There's a lot of power in keeping things unknown. I'm rambling."

Nicholas Hyde
There is this glance that Nicholas gives River, sidelong, as she speaks, starting with re...written? and bridging as she continues into this thing shadowed beneath his eyelashes, something that is partially curiosity and partially approval.  "I agree.  It doesn't change anything for us to assume the worst from them, and it does nothing for us, either.  They're flesh and blood and bone."

He straightens then, and arches his back enough so that his spine flexes and a popping sound can be heard.  "I am sorry to hear about Ginger, though, Grace.  And that you might have to move."

River
"I had an ex-wife named Ginger in the... seventies? It's always been strange talking about Ginger," she says, like her failed past life relationship would make its loss easier.

Grace
"Oh, I'll fix it," she says to Nick. "It'll be fine."

It'll be fine.

She tilts her head again at River. "River, you weren't alive in the 70's."

This is what she gets for not really absorbing all the reassurances about reincarnation that all the Chakravanti in her life have tried to make clear.

Nicholas Hyde
Another look to River, then.  "Not as River, I'm guessing," he says, and then a glance flicked back in Grace's direction.  "Not the same as not having been alive."

River
She shakes her head, "not as River."

Gives Grace a brief look with raised eyebrows like See? Nick gets me.

Grace
Grace blinks. Not as River. "Oh. Oh. Right, okay. Sorry. Technomancer. Don't mind me."

Not like you guys, who are Traditionmates. And don't yet know that.

"I'm not cool like you guys with your wheels."

Grace
[BRB, guys, skip me!]

Nicholas Hyde
Nick had suspected, perhaps, from the moment that River had started to speak about rewriting their souls, and there is this appraising glance to her as Grace confirms.  "I haven't met another Wheel Tender here yet."

There's a look to Grace then, some glint of something that might be contemplated mischief, but see: he holds off.  He waits to hear from River first.

River
"My room mate left," she told Nick with a sad look, all sunshine that she was it was difficult to keep that sunshine when her life is such a revolving door. River doesn't hide it, sees no reason to wander away from her feelings or make light of them. Sometimes, River Vasquez is lonely, "if Ihsan hadn't moved you could have met two over the course of dinner."

Such truth, such truth, but Nick's words perk her up and there is that brightness again. Can't hide too much of her away for too long- say what one will of the sun, it is persistent. "I think it may just be us? And... Sasha? But she is in Morrison, I met her once?"

But that was it.

Nicholas Hyde
There is something in River just then that Nick recognizes.  He's new in town, and doesn't quite recognize the leaving, but there's this: of his former cabalmates, he is married to one, his wife will not speak to another, and one he killed with his own two hands.  (The last, poor Thane: left on his own.  Perhaps it's Thane that has the closest parallel to River just now.)

"Then," he says, "we'll have to talk more once we're not in a greenhouse.  I've missed practicing with people who get it."

Grace
Grace smiles. People making connections is always a great thing to witness. "Sucks that Ihsan left. But hey, now you have a Nick!"

"It's always nice having people who 'get it'. I have spent many an extended period without such peeps. You just want to tell somebody about all these nifty things, and they're like 'Yeah, I'm sure that's totally awesome...'"

River
"You would think that technomancers would do more magickal online dating."

Nicholas Hyde
"I always do feel like I don't see very many," Nick admits, with this look toward Grace, "but I'd always assumed that was just because most work virtually."

Grace
Grace gives River these over-the-top I-don't-believe-you eyes. Online dating. Ugh.

"Well. Some of us are more used to the meatspace than others," she says, to Nick. "To be honest, I don't really keep a lot of online contacts with my Tradition. Or, if I do, I'm completely unaware of it. People are just people, online."

Nicholas Hyde
This thoughtful tilt of his head, then.  "I suppose.  But I would still think you'd all have developed a way to find out who's in the know and who's not.  At least so you can vent to each other about people like us drawing circles and shaking sticks."

River
"We do shake a lot of sticks." she nodded for effect.

River does shrug though, and inhales, "I need to probably head home soon. I have a tropical plant the acclimate."

How she was going to keep that thing growing in her apartment was beyond all logic, though.

Grace
"River, wait up. Can you give me some better suggestions on what to get? I need something that won't die on me, won't grow too fast, and something... portable. Really portable. Do they make plant pots with handles?"

Again, Grace is talking about her oddly specific plans for plant-life. The things she cares about in plants are not the things normal people tend to.

She's also weirdly focused on it. The plant-mission will not be stopped, you see. She needs this vital piece of a focus, so that she won't lose a house again.

Nicholas Hyde
"I should get my plants home," Nick says, with another look toward his cart.  "It was nice to meet you," he says to River, and to Grace, "and good to see you again."

And, lifting a hand in a wave to the two of them, he starts toward the cash register, where the beleaguered staff member is still eyeing the three of them.

River
"Oh! Sure, let's go look?" she says, doesn't wander off yet and, instead, is content to hang out with Grace for a moment. She delves into the gigantic purse and pulls out a little notepad. She starts to write her name and number up with nice, pretty handwriting and nice, pretty numbers on a relatively boring piece of paper.

River Vasquez. California area code, closer to the Mexican border than anywhere else.

"A pothos vine is hearty, but it grows pretty quickly. Maybe succulents?" and, with that, she is happy to navigate the world of plants with Grace.