For this activity, we would like you to post an RP-style introductory post for you or your Mycenian in plant form! You are welcome to take any liberties with how plants might RP with each other. If you’d prefer, you can make a drawing or take a photo (or multiple photos) depicting a plant introduction.

• This activity runs from April 1st through 23:59 ST on April 15th.
• Each player can make up to 2 introductory posts for this activity.
• All creative endeavors are welcome for this activity. You may use drawings, photos, words, or any mixture thereof!
  • Written posts should be at least a paragraph long, and drawings should be a semi-clean sketch. Photos should have your username somewhere visible in it.
• You may choose to make an introductory post for yourself or for one of your characters (as a plant).
  • All characters used for this activity must have a Mycenian representation
• Please put each of your introductory posts in its own post in this thread.
• AI generated artwork and writing is not permitted for this activity. Utilizing AI to generate ideas or general composition is okay, but the final piece must be entirely your own work.

• For each introductory post you create, you will receive the following items: Alocasia Houseplant, Bromeliad Houseplant, and Pothos Houseplant
• A participation sticker will also be rewarded.

Vee looks around, gazing at the various plants around her. “Huh. Well, at least I’m not the only one who’s turned into a plant this time.” She gently shakes her vines, slowly lifting them up in front of her eyes so she can inspect her leaves. “Oh, and I’ve got much prettier leaves now, too. Quite like the pattern on them, though I can’t say I’ve any idea what plant I’ve become. Plus that announcement earlier means it’s hopefully only temporary. I would have preferred to be asked first, but oh well.” She taps on the pot beside her. “So, how’re you liking being a plant so far, assuming you were also turned into one?”

OOC in case anyone wants the formatting for the lil' image up there, linking to pet bio.

[float=left][url=<Link_to_pet_page>][img=200x0]<Link_to_plant_image>[/img][/url][/float]

Now this—this was funny.  Hilarious, even.  The irony of turning into a plant, when one normally turned into a rabbit that ATE plants, was a little bit much even for him.  Lester wasn’t sure if plants could laugh, but he felt his leaves shaking with mirth, anyway.  And wasn’t that a bit silly?  Or more than a bit.  He could somehow still see and hear, even though he was now in a raised bed in a greenhouse.

To his left and right were a very unruly pumpkin that was completely outgrowing the bed, vines everywhere on the floor, and a tomato that didn’t seem to be getting enough water.

Perhaps it didn’t have a strong enough root.

Lester thought he could hear a distant voice.  Could plants speak?  He tried to say something and at first just managed to rustle his leaves around, but eventually, somehow, managed speech.

“Hello?  Yes?  I’m sorry, I’m new here, and I’m not usually a…” He paused to assess.  “...a pepper plant.  It might be the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me?  Which is really saying something, actually.”

He tries to move, but his roots are firmly planted, taking in nutrients from the soil.  It was a bit like drinking a power smoothie, only he couldn’t really taste anything.  “I don’t think I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

Zeitlos thought his life before was extraordinary enough…until today when he woke up to discover he’d turned into a plant.
He could no longer see, but something about him being unable to move and smelling like dirt confirmed his suspicions that a strange phenomenon had occured. He tried to feel his body—now more than just a few limbs—he had countless of twigs and leaves and flowers and tendrils! He concentrated as hard as he could but could only make a leaf or two twitch. Where his legs once stood were not roots tied to the soil. At least there was soil, so he would not starve. Now…he had to hatch up a plan to turn him back. It did not feel nice being stuck to a pot without any freedom. In this moment his respect for plants grew…

“Hello, anyone there?” Zeitlos tried to speak. He could not hear himself, of course. But from his roots, something was released into the soil. So this was how he was going to communicate now?

“Hello, if you receive this message, please be sure to reply!”

Sandrie woke up in a sunlight flooded greenhouse, the air was humid and she felt a comfortable warmth surrouding her. As she looked around, Hydrangea greeted her with a loud voice “Hello! It’s very nice to meet you, please don’t be shy and let’s get to know everyone!”
Sandrie replied with a small “Hi!...”, then she realized she had suddenly become a plant and was planted in a flower bed, and she felt her roots longing for water. She shook her leaves and asked how she got here but the other plants didn’t know either and were surprised by their new plant form too. Sandrie turned her stem around trying to inquire what might have happened, however she got showered by a huge watering can and could only hear Hydrangea telling everyone to not forget to photosynthesize…!
“Well…” she thouhgt to herself, “today is a good day to make many new friends, right!”
“Hi everyone, my name’s Sandrie! How are you today?” 

Marshall appreciates the damp wamth of the greenhouse.  It might be a bit too much for his leaves, which are pooling with water where the desert would have been more comfortably dry. Still, he likes the water.  Desert folk know how to value a good soaking.

People who say the desert is barren never saw it after a rain.

He looks around to see all the leaves in vibrant colors, familiar and unfamiliar.  “Doing okay there, pardners?”

It’s been a strange day. 

A strange day, indeed. Not unpleasant, but definitely strange.

Nasrin shakes her leaves, sending bright pink petals fluttering to the ground. “DOING GREAT… I think?” She raises her voice, trailing off as she strains to hear from her patch in the bed outside of the greenhouse. She’s not even sure she was heard, much less if she’s doing great. She’s never felt this uncertain before, but then, she’s also never been a plant before.

“I mean, I’m a wild rose bush,” Nasrin feels the leaves where her ears would be shift as she attempts to twitch them. “I know that’s what my name means, but did it have to be taken so literally?” She sighs, the motion feeling more like a breeze blowing through than an actual exhalation. “Anyone else out here in the bed with me or is everyone else inside?”

Varin wasn’t unfamiliar with plants. Not in the least as a Sorcerer who specialized in nature magic, and even as someone who could transform into a full fledged nature dragon, but this was the first time he had ever been turned into a plant.

Oddly enough it didn’t feel too bad. He was wild ivy, climbing ivy to be specific. The sun on his leaves felt nice as he basked in the warmth of the sunlight. It was just as good as when he would sunbathe, but in this form he felt more energized by it than sleepy like when he would stretch on a nice warm rock and bathe in the sun on nice days. In this new form his long vines full of pointed leaves stretched out and even wrapped objects and climbed trying to reach even more to the sun. It wouldn’t be bad to stay in this form for a while, at least until Isa came up with a way to change him back hopefully.

So for now he basked in the sunlight and looked around at the other plants around him.

If he had vocal chords he would let a rough and rumbling voice, “These might not be our normal bodies, but it’s not half bad now is it?”

The air was hot with a shockingly strong humidity. However, it seemed to warm Minze completely to the core. What would typically send the moth into hysterics, the drops sweating down his veins energized the fellow to his core.

Minze felt as if he was sprawled out and everyone was watching him lay there. It truly felt as if all eyes were on him, and the sudden idea of whispers gnawed at him through the fog in the brightly lit greenhouse. He took a deep breath… at least to him, it’d seemed like a breath. Pulling energy from the surrounding swell of heat, Minze relaxed himself to his roots. A shiver run through his limbs, and belled flowers shook water droplets off of their tips.

Flowers…? Minze adjusted himself, more of the collected steam trailing off of his leaves as a shiver ran through his system.

“You’re up!” the sensation of a voice cheered, “Sun is absolutely lovely today.”

“I’m sorry…” Minze replied in the only way he could, “Who am I with?”

A giggling was the only reply. This time, a symphony of sound, as before he had only tuned into one voice.

“I am Prince Minze, please,” frustration peeked through professionalism in his tone, “Where are we?”

As a water lily, Treasure is glad someone stocked the greenhouse with a lovely pot full of water to rest her leaves on.  Not even a little bit frozen! 

It’s been a long winter, she thinks.  The cold had made Treasure too sleepy to do much of anything, so she’s glad for a chance to warm up. 

Treasure waves her petals enthusiastically, pleased to have some company in the warm soothing greenhouse. 

Katirioze found herself entirely unbothered by her new form. It was interesting— to feel so confined and fleeting— but it was not wholly dissimilar to her prior life. It took her time to determine a label for herself. A variant of a desert lily, she eventually decided. Not yet in bloom. She had never been one before, so it had been so simple feat to extend her awareness through each part of herself in a way that was informative rather than merely exploratory. This was enough information for the time being.

Around her, plants chittered back and forth about their transformed states. Many of them seemed perturbed, and Katirioze reached deeper instead. She had no desire to ask questions or participate in senseless panic. Below, there was a thrumming that pulled her. It took days, to trail roots from her location into the ground proper, and then down, down, down. With time, she was close enough to reach out to the trees, with their roots spiraling throughout the dirt. Hello, she said without words. She thought of the joy of soaking in sunlight, and she shared this with the trees. A greeting should be simple, but meaningful, and she could think of no greater meaning than that of life.

“And in one sunny morning I woke up. The first thing I felt was something.. special. I used to wake up with another feeling of another meaningless day, but now… so satisfying…”
Bowie looked back at the sunlight streaming invitingly from the window. It was the first time he had seen so much and so vividly. It was only a little later, after recovering from sleep, that he realized an important thing. Bowie was standing on the floor. For a moment, he thought to look at what was wrong with him, and froze in horror. At least, that’s what it seemed from the outside. He became a plant. Large and powerful, with several wide leaves. Panic and fear gripped him for a couple of seconds, but it quickly ended. Another invigorating dose of sunlight filled him with joy and happiness.

“Oh, you’re awake too. How are you feeling?” - a soft and gentle voice came in the deathly silence, somewhere from Bowie’s back.

“What? Who are you?”

“Turn around. Just be careful, don’t damage the stem, okay?”

Bowie slowly turned his whole body around. The strong vegetable base only shrank a little and cracked easily. To his surprise, it didn’t hurt, even feel good. Finally, he was able to turn his roots around and see who was addressing him. Other plants. Completely different, dissimilar plants. Small and large, with thin, translucent leaves and huge, spiny burdocks. They didn’t even have anything resembling a mouth, but he could hear them anyway.

“H-hello. Do we know each other?..” - he said, with a note of uncertainty. Outwardly, he had never seen anything like it, but at the same time they smelled of something familiar and native.

“Unfortunately, we don’t know ourselves. But since you have also become a plant, then you can be considered one of us. Welcome! Now we’re in the same boat, and we have to help each other. You agree, don’t you?”

“I… mh.. If I have nothing else to do…”

..and what was happening seemed to Bowie only a dream. A dream that has managed to soak in something native and free. What is he doing here? Why a plant? Where is he, and who are these creatures around?

“..ok. Fine. I agree. After all, I’m not sure I’ll be able to leave this place anytime soon.”

Gaius awoke with a contented sigh.  The sunlight was warm on his face, and his body felt light and relaxed.  He could hear soft voices all around him, though when he opened his eyes he was surprised to find that… well, he couldn’t actually open his eyes.  In fact, he realized that he’d been seeing the whole time.  Seeing, in the broadest sense of the word.  It was more like sensing, picking out vague shapes around him, each connected to their own ‘voice’ which, he also realized, weren’t voices at all.  They were more like vibrations, tiny electrical pulses sent through the air and hitting him in just such a way that he could understand them.  For the sake of his own mental wellbeing, he opted to call these sensations vision and hearing.

A voice in his ear (ear?) caught his attention, and he turned towards a peppy-looking plant in a pot.  It introduced itself as Hydrangea.  In a burst of insight, Gaius took note of his strange limbs, of his root trailing deep into the soil, of the fact that he actually couldn’t move at all.  He was also…. in a pot.  He was a plant in a pot.  A thrill ran through him.  After working with plants for most of his life, now he was one!  He knew some sort of strange magic must be responsible for his current predicament, but he honestly couldn’t complain.  There were far worse fates! 

He quickly began to take stock of all of the sensations he was feeling and tried to hone in on the voices he was hearing.  This was an excellent opportunity to learn about plants in a way no one ever had before!  He could almost feel the sunlight moving through him, warming each and every cell as he photosynthesized.  He could feel his roots growing, reaching, soaking up nutrients from below.  He knew that plants were always growing, but this felt like such an active process.  Who knew plants were always working so hard?

“This is incredible…”

Ciarán has to agree with that. After all, most of his potions require multiple herbs and other plants. Even dried and mixed into foods or such, plants do a lot.

“Although I don’t have the best view…” Ciarán stretches as far up as he can, the top of his head beginning to bob back and forth with the effort. “Guess it’s what comes with the territory,” He settles back down, taking a good look at himself in his little pot. “Especially when one is meant to expand outward, not necessarily upward, but I’m a decent patch of Purple Dead Nettle.”

Ciarán knows the herb well. Several jars contain the dried leaves and flowers back at home. “Hopefully any ants will stay clear of me here, too.”

Zahrah wasn’t bothered by suddenly being a plant, she had started life as a plant after all so this wasn’t new. In fact, she was kind of pleased by this turn of events, mobility was oft overrated in her opinion. Sure, it had been nice being able to move herself to a nice sunny spot. But moving around cam with so many new problems. As a plant, nobody complained and scolded her for being in the way as they did when she could move on her own.

Life was just simpler as a plant.

Plus, this was a lovely greenhouse and she could feel fresh damp soil around her roots and feel the warm sun on her leaves. She really couldn’t be happier with this current situation, why had she ever wished for mobility in the first place? Sure, being outside was sometimes less than ideal as a plant, sometimes the rain would nearly drown her roots or the summer sun would bake the soil dry and hard. And aphids were always a concern, and the treatments to get rid of the tiny monsters were nearly as unpleasant as the bugs themselves. But she didn’t need to worry about those things in such a nice greenhouse, she had the perfect amount of water and there was bright sunlight shining directly on her leaves. This place was basically perfect.

Such a lovely location made her feel unusually generous so she started work on some fabulous blooms, taking her time to make sure there wouldn’t be even a single petal that was less than perfectly shaped. She also took some extra care with the scent, determined that she would show her gratitude for being placed into such ideal conditions by producing the sweetest and most beautiful roses ever seen.

Not unlike any other day, Pomme felt the warm rays of the sun waking them up. Grumbling gently, she tried to roll over and stretch her arms out to get the blood flowing, but something was definitely off. Rather than soft, squishy limbs to deal with, Pomme awoke with tendrils and stems instead.

Being someone enchanted with nature, it felt right in it’s own way. To Pomme, this was something that perhaps they’d been destined to deal with at some point and so she welcomed the change of anatomy with anticipation.

However, this was not her bed, and even less, she did not recognize the surroundings. Pomme sensed a warm greenhouse filled with a variety of friends. Some were tall and their leaves hit the ceiling, and others were placed lower on the cool ground where they can relax in the shade. Regardless, the scenery felt lovely and the atmosphere felt like Pomme was exactly where they’d needed to be.

Getting a feel to her surroundings, Pomme wiggled slightly, trying to expand their new found leaves into the sun fully. With a polite giggle, she excused herself as she brushed against neighbouring plants nearby.

Ethen jolted awake when he felt another person brush against him, petals falling from his hair, and responded by jabbing an elbow into their side. Except it wasn’t an elbow or soft side. His arm was a stem, and the other person he gently brushed against was a rhododendron in a hard clay pot. The rhododendron was very cross and shook its flower at him before stretching toward a beam of sunlight.

This was clearly a dream.

Ethen turned to the voice of a Hydrangea. Meet everyone? Everyone was a plant. They can’t talk. Dream plants, though, absolutely could.

“I’m Ethen,” he said to the rhododendron. “Sorry about bumping you.”

The rhododendron refused to turn back to him. Ethen supposed the sun was more important to a plant than a human voice, though hearing voices did help some plants grow better. He shook his leaves in annoyance.

“Anyone know what’s happening here?” he asked to no one in particular.

The day isn’t particularly nice. Overcast clouds roll over the greenhouse, the glass of the ceiling speckled with the patter of a gentle rain just beginning to fall. Though the humidity in the house is maintained by the climate system, the storm still makes the air feel heavy and gloomy; Even heavier and gloomier for Trys, who drinks the sun like water.

On days like this, she feels her petals droop, her stalk bowing low as she lacks the sun’s light. Part of her dependance on its light is the solitary corner of the room in which she’s placed— a lone alstroemeria bloom, tucked on a shelf deep inside the greenhouse. While she doesn’t exactly mind having space to herself, it would be nice to have a companion to chat with, at least once in a while. After all, what was the use of a beautiful day if there was no one to share it with?

Today, though, there is no beautiful day, whether sharing it or not. The seconds tick by, counted by the raindrops that are falling in earnest now, an unsteady rhythm on the glass. Trys wonders if the day will drag on forever like this. That is, until someone places a pot only a few inches from her own.

The pot is taller than hers, meaning the other plant is peering down at her from over the lip of a deep blue glaze. The newcomer appeared to be a tangle of snapdragons, with bright orange blossoms that escaped from the twist of green.

“You’re looking rather pale there, flower,” The snapdragon didn’t waste any time with a greeting. “Not a fan of storms?”

Trys found herself shocked at the bold nature of her new companion. But hadn’t she just wished for a friend?

“Can’t say I am. I much prefer a bright sunny day myself,” She replied, dipping her petals toward the friendly flower in welcome. “Storms always make me feel… heavy,”

“Well, I suppose there are plenty more bright and sunny days ahead for you. You just gotta get through today,” The snapdragon bent his flowers down toward her in bright interest. “Let’s talk, and keep your mind off it. My name’s Rook. And yours is?...”

Ah, yes, the new greenhouse. The brick walls stretched up high, covered in ivy that quietly whispered among its own clusters of vines. However, they hung so far up the wall that the content of their conversations could only be guessed at, and Wild could only hope they weren’t chattering about him. He was a newcomer in a fancy striped porcelain vase, and his finely trimmed appearance highlighted the baby blue forget-me-not flowers dotted up his stem. It wasn’t exactly fitting for the outdoor greenhouse, but he had seen other plants in similar trappings be walked out from his perch on the sill before, meaning that with any luck he wouldn’t stand out too much from the others. He wanted to make friends, after all!

The lovely gaggle of monstera he had been placed with near the window had been nice, but their high stalks sometimes carried them high above his head, and it felt rude to intrude on them then. Despite his hesitation, he thought back on them fondly. Lucy, Ivory, Valiant, I hope the sun in that window stays nice and bright for you!

That being said, this new greenhouse was much bigger than his old windowsill. The wide open windows allowed the warm summer breeze in, and the bright sunlight filtered through them in golden rays. It was the perfect amount of light for the plants inside, warm and gentle but not bright enough to burn anyone’s leaves. Honestly, Wild had dreamed of what it might be like from the window many times, gazing down at the greenhouse with the wonder of a sapling observing a full grown oak. Up close, it was even more magnificent.

Wild’s leaves trembled with excitement as he was carried closer and closer to the old wooden doors into the greenhouse. Every petal of him was anticipating the new world he was about to see, the sounds and sights of so many more plants than he had ever met in his life. He tried to draw himself up, his leaves and flowers standing tall, in order to look his best.

The door in front of him opened, and all at once the chatter of the greenhouse washed over him in a gentle wave. This place, his new home, was his next grand adventure!

Sneaking away from the space-time rift once again, Aster found herself in a new world that possibly needed her help.

Though she was in a bit of a conundrum this time around? Every previous time she cast off her immortal body, she had been granted a physical fauna form, often humanoid, but creature based was fine too. This time though. This time she was a plant? Flora instead of fauna. What help could she give as a plant? The young norn wiggled her leafy arms(?) in confusion. From what she could deduce, she was some kind of viney plant with a firm wood like stalk and nimble vine like arms. Her leaves were an interesting light blue green color, the blue hues not unlike the ones in her original hair. Her leaves were large and heart shaped, able to pick up plenty of light and provide small bits of shade here and there. She needed the large leaves though since she was situated next to a large tree that was similar to that of a pine tree, though the needles looked a bit more blue than green. The tree blocked out a lot of the light flowing in from the canopy, so her large leaves needed to pick up whatever they could get.

Stretching out her arms, Aster could get her vines to climb up the tree’s base, though she got the distinct feeling that her neighbor wasn’t particularly fond of this action. Fortunately, they did not share a nutrient system so at least she was able to avoid any awkward symbiotic or parasitic relationship. The norn let her leaves droop as she mentally sighed. Well, this was going to be an interesting adventure that was for sure. Stella was going to probably lecture her whenever she got back home. If she could get home…

I tried to stretch but found my body didn’t quite flex as it normally did. My arns were green and leafy, my torso a plastic black pot. I swung my head around, except my head was a big red flower. My sleep was wonderful, though, as a sun beam glowed through my window and warmed me while i dozed.

A hydrangea bush shook next to me, but I wasn’t listening. The room we were in was massive, ceilings reaching so high into the air I couldn’t make out the details on it. More plants sat on shelves above and beloe, all in varying degrees of wakefulness.most were stretched toward the sun. I wanted to join them, the hunger for the light strong, but I resisted. I wanted to explore.

A voice called after me. “Wait!”

I didn’t listen. I rolled off the side of the shelf I sat on and dropped to the level below, disturbing many neighbors on the way. Lots of leaves shook and grumbled. I paid no mind, pushing past them and continuing my path. I wanted to see more of the greenhouse.

(OOC: Based on me)

It had been years since she had gone to bed without thinking of the plants she took care of and what needed to be done next in the coming days. Waking up thinking of her plants as sentient beings in their own right.
Now the sun was up and it felt so good on her form. Never had the rays felt so wonderful and fulfilling! Intact the longer she seemed to be residing in the direct light the less hungry her body felt. As she became more aware of things she came to realize her form was even shorter than usual. Feeling her whole body jump in shock she glad about and looking down came to realize that she seemed to be sitting in a pot. One with damp dirt. And while fresh damp potting soil smelled fine and good, this stuff smelled delicious! Taking a deep breath her whole stalk seemed to vibrate as the taste filled her roots and her leaves took in the scent. Resting there in her spot she didn’t feel the usual hurry to jump up and

Glancing about to take in her location she came to realize she was surrounded by many plants that seemed to be moving and shaking and dare she think, ‘speaking?!’ Trying to move towards them she felt a resistance like something were holding her back. Wiggling what she thought were her toes she felt the cool damp soil and then realized that she too had become one of them! It was then something bumped her. Her terracotta pot rattled a bit as she watched a hydrangea move past her. Watching as other plants moved here and there about the greenhouse.
“I wonder if this place has any TV to watch.”
(Myself in 3rd person)

Kanji was familiar with the growing pains of transformation magic. It took years for her to settle into a human body, adjusting to an upright gait, shorter limbs, and the dexterity of little fingers. At first, even the tongue in her mouth was uncomfortable: a fat, heavy organ like a sponge, taking up too much space against her teeth. Not having a mouth was worse.

Turns out, there were far worse things that being human.

Upon waking in a floral form, Kanji panicked. She spent several minutes unable to form a coherent thought, filled with fear and confusion, unable to move her limbs. This was mostly because they did not exist. She was still herself, though, and after the initial moment of shutdown, she had a great many thoughts. Most of them were furious. Several were disgustingly violent. A deep breath might have helped her pause for long enough to consider the problem without blinding rage and the desire to crush whoever was responsible with her roots, but taking a breath wasn’t something she found herself capable of doing. The same way that “blind” was an apt description of her current situation.

However, focusing on her inability to breathe allowed her to realize how… irrelevant that was to her predicament. In fact, she felt… unusually full of breath, for someone who no longer had lungs. She mulled this over, and she tentatively explored the rest of her new form. She found she could wiggle her leaves, with a concerted effort, and that when she relaxed, she had an awareness of her surroundings that was not sight, but was good enough.

There were many plants chattering around her, and she took the opportunity to work out a way of roughly communicating in turn, with some fluttering of her leaves and a targeted thought, that it would be lovely to meet everyone, and also if anyone spoke directly at her in the next fifteen minutes, she was going to figure out how to scream.

She needed more time to process whatever… this… was… before she had the tolerance to talk it through with anyone else.

Ivory awoke to the sounds of chatter. Multiple conversations were happening all at once, some voices confused but otherwise unruffled, others angry, and some perfectly cheery and excited. Normally her mornings were a bit quieter but it’s not like she lived out of town anymore. She probably just slept in, she was getting older…

She hummed low to herself, groggy from sleep while she stretched. The sun was so warm and relaxing, and the air had never been fresher! But when she moved, the sound of rustling leaves and twisting stems was loud in her ears. Something was wrong. She couldn’t feel her legs and it felt like she had way too many arms. Something was very wrong.

Finally opening her eyes, Ivory found she was on a shelf in a greenhouse. She was surrounded by potted plants chatting away with each other… somehow… Looking at herself in the reflection of a puddle on her water-soaked shelf, her new form was composed of a long stalk, with long lanceolate leaves by the bottom and many bright red flowers at the top. She was rooted in a slightly dirty (now muddy with moisture) terracotta pot with horseshoes painted on the side. Now she was quite awake. What in the world happened!? Why was she a plant? Who was responsible for this? Why were some people just… okay with this? Where was her son?

Once the realization hit her, she did her best to calm down. She began taking deep breaths- or what might have been? She didn’t have lungs anymore so it felt strange. Ivory should be calm and focused to find her kid. There was no way she could recognize him by appearance, but she knew his voice better than anyone. She could still move and think, so it wasn’t the absolute worst situation she had been in.

She tipped herself over, holding herself up at an angle when her leaves hit the cold shelf. Ivory began dragging herself on a new journey, steeled with a new resolve. And the incredibly grating noise of the scraping of clay.

(OOC: Ivory is meant to be a cardinal flower, or Lobelia cardinalis :))

For Fleet, it’s strange to feel so rooted, not to want to follow the tickling pull of his butterfly friends all the way into the sky.  But he can rest for a while and wait another season.  There will be time to fly another week, another month. 

His butterfly friends seem to appreciate the bright flowers in the greenhouse, anyway, including his own.  They make a lovely pattern trying to visit every plant. 

Fleet is too tired to pay attention to all of them, the warmth seems just right for focus and growth, not conversation.  He’s very sleepy.  He’ll find energy to be polite in just…just another minute…

Jucitine was a plant. Again. It had been quite some time since she had gained sentience and began moving about, so returning to her rooted state was a little strange. She found it quite pleasant though. The feeling of being connected to the land and all the other plants around was a feeling she’d missed. The feeling of being snuggled up with mother dirt.

It occurred to her that she must have aged backward a bit though, since as everyone knew, plants only stayed rooted as children before they grew up and meandered off to start a nursery of their own. Still, she was not too alarmed by her current state. If she’d grown up once surely she’d grow up again. And once she did she could return to planting seeds and raising the next generation of younglings into fine plants who would leave the embrace of mother dirt once they were ready.

For now, she decided to enjoy the breeze flitting through her leaves, the sun nourishing her stems, and the water quenching her roots. Yes. It was good to be a plant again.

Eileen rolled about the greenhouse, caught by a sudden gust of wind. They felt slightly out of place being a tumbleweed in a community of potted plants — and not even knowing what sort of tumbleweed, at that. A dried clump of plants detached from the root, wandering uncertainly about in a room full of flora with clear, organized labels. They felt uncertain and unmoored, but simultaneously, there was a gentle, small comfort in not knowing. There was hope for rediscovery, for piecing themselves together bit by bit.

They felt content to listen, to gather more information about the community they had stumbled upon rather than immediately speaking up. With Hydrangea’s prompting, however, they felt like they should at least say something.

“Hi. I’m Eileen.” There, that should be enough for now, until they could get a better sense of the gathering of plants around them.

Was this a dream? A prank? Or perhaps an especially unusual outburst of accidental, as-yet uncontrolled magic? Aderyn had no real way of knowing, but it was plain that something had happened to upturn her usual sense of reality - not to mention her sense of self. It was plain, because if something hadn’t happened then she wouldn’t now have the impression of roots and leaves in place of limbs and body, nor be so keenly aware of sunlight dappling down upon her; of soil snug around her; of the comfort and warmth of both.

At first, she was puzzled by those pieces. Slowly, however, it came to her that she was no longer a witch but rather a rose, and one more than content with her current situation. She wasn’t sure what was more startling—being a plant or being okay with it—and she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how it normally was for the many plants she normally tended. A good life, if so. A life she could almost be happy with.

Except…

She could not see, or sense, her family: could not tell if they had even come to this place at all. That she could not be content with, so with a shivering of leaves the new-made rose shifted in her bed, testing the firmness of her roots and feeling for her magic as she tried to determine if she had the power to regain her natural body - or at the least to go searching for her missing coven.

Peacha awoke in the garden, which was quite typical.  As the head botanist (and reluctant mycologist) of Avalistbar Institute she was quite married to her work, which encompassed both scientific research and agricultural production of every known plant in the cave.  But today, her mind awoke before her body did, and as she slowly adjusted to the morning light (or rather, the lamps lit by the morning’s interns) she realized with dread that she could not feel her toes.  Or her fingers.  In fact the only feeling her body observed was a pervasive sense of dirt.

Confusion spiked into panic as Peacha realized that she may be partially buried in the soil.  Or maybe, there was a cave-in?  If she had been crushed by falling rocks, she didn’t seem to feel any pain, exactly.  She tried in vain to move her limbs, to look around, and to shout for assistance.  Nothing worked.  Where was her voice?  Was she breathing okay?  Peacha couldn’t tell.  Frantically she looked around; her head wouldn’t move but her eyes seemed to.  And suddenly it dawned on her that if she looked down all she saw was…leaves.  And flower petals.  She wasn’t buried, her roots were simply in the soil where they belonged.  She had become a flower.

What sort of magic would cause this?  And what sort of magician would direct this curse at Peacha?  Was it karma, did she spend so much time amongst the plants that she became one?  After surviving the great winter encased in stone, Peacha thought she could handle any misfortune or curse, but this…this felt rather personal.  When this spell wears off, someone’s getting in SUCH trouble!

Bellflower awoke that morning to the gentle yet urgent tapping of an orchid mantis on her…leaves.  Sookie was Belf’s constant companion, very clever and expressive by insect standards, so Belf knew that this behavior was meant to put her on alert.  Something must be wrong.  She observed her surroundings, a safe little campsite tucked into the bend of a cavern maybe five miles from home.  Everything seemed normal.  And then she looked down.  Why does she have leaves?

Belf was a seasoned adventurer and thus could moderate her emotions well in this dire situation.  But her understanding of transformative magic (and curses, this may well be a curse) was limited.  There’s no use crying over spilt magic, she thought to herself.  It was time to assess the situation as logically as possible, and—

Sookie hopped up and down aggressively as a fat bee buzzed lazily towards Bellflower’s bell flowers.  It was a wonderful specimen, absolutely perfect coloration, if Belf could reach her notebooks she’d be sketching it out right now.  It landed, and peeked inside one hanging flower.  A different Mycenean would be horrified, but Belf was both an entomologist and completely fearless.  Perhaps this new form she took was a gift!  This is the best view she’ll ever get of a bee gathering nectar.  She could see everything, oh if only there were some way to record this view for posterity!  Oh, and if only she could communicate to Sookie that she’s okay with this new visitor.

Sookie held her little mantis sickles ready, waiting to pounce on the intrusive bee.  But then from behind her, along came a fruit fly…then a butterfly…then a handfull of gnats…  If they were here for pollen and nectar, well, that’s fine, but if anything took even one nibble on Belf’s leaves Sookie was prepared to strike…!