smash_logs | Parting glass

Who: Bulba and Vinnie
What: Saying goodbye
Where: What's left of the greenhouse
When: Nov 13?
Warnings: Guilt and abandonment

While it was fortunate that the greenhouse had been spared the awful fate of being stepped on by a mountain on a stroll, it hadn't come out completely unscathed. The tremors of nearby footfalls had been enough to shatter every pane of glass, knock over planters, and even topple some of their taller potted trees. The floor was now utterly carpeted in glass shards, spilled soil and shattered ceramic. Like the rest of the school, the damage was severe. It was going to take a lot of careful, had work to reconstruct the garden that so many people had poured their love into.

But with the moon bearing down on them all, was there really a point?

Vinnie had managed to fish out the thick manual Erika left behind for them out from the debris. He was sitting outside of the wreckage now, the book heavy in his hands. Each page he leafed through was weighted with nostalgia, and the burden of her disappointment.

If there was one thing that this disaster proved, it was one truth: you couldn't save everyone.

And looking at the plants left in the greenhouse, he knew. They wouldn't be able to save all of them.

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It was a notion that Bulba had been grappling with ever since the mountain loomed over head. There was no way to get every plant to safety, but who was he to decide which ones were more important? They were all his friends. He cared for each of them. But he'd placed a priority, and it continued to leave a bitter taste on his tongue.

Maybe they had done this all wrong.

Greetings were left silenced as the shiny saur sat heavily on the grass besides Vinnie, allowing his scent to be the herald of his arrival on the scrne. There was no secret that he'd be there-- that they'd both be there-- after all they had already been doing to try and clean up the damage. Carefully, his cheek found its practiced spot on the other saur's shoulder as Bulba flicked his golden gaze over the in-depth documents in Vinnie's hands.

Vinnie leaned into the familiar presence at his side, letting his head rest against the other's. Eventually, the page turning slowed to a stop as he reached the binder divider for the piranha plant feeding schedule. The Venusaur's fingers ran along Erika's carefully penned writing, long since stained into the paper.

"I remember how nervous I felt when Ms. Erika left us the manual," he said, voice low. It felt like a lifetime ago, when really it had only been a handful of years since she left. At the time, it was hard not to think of the greenhouse as 'Erika's greenhouse' - only appropriate, considering she created it. But over time, as the pressure faded into daily routine, it had somehow become their greenhouse.

He wasn't sure what was worse now, the idea of letting down Erika, or letting themselves down.

Bulba let out a soft laugh, the sound almost a sigh. The events surrounding Erika's departure was an emotional haze for him, with too many feelings happening all at once. He hadn't had the chance to feel nervous, too busy seeking refuge amongst the plants as he broke down over being forgotten. They were his careful guardians as he cried, as Vinnie joined him, and as another tiny seed was planted in his heart. It was more than just the routines.

"I remember how long it took for you to actually read the whole thing," Bulba couldn't help but tease lightly, a small smile on his face. The book had definitely been his charge for a while, his own somewhat messier notes adorning some of the margins here and there.

"Not that you ever actually needed to."

Yeah, well, stacks of dry academic material wasn't really Vinnie's strong suit. Which made it an even bigger mystery how he was planning to break into the scientific world. It was reading to the plants in the greenhouse that helped Vinnie pass his classes in the first place - he owed them more than they probably realized for those textbook storytime sessions.

"No, but I... felt like I had to. I couldn't just half-ass it," he murmured back, knowing Bulba understood. "I mean, we're Venusaurs..."

There was a pause as he struggled to swallow the lump in his throat.

"...Right?"

The smile faded, setting into something firmer. Bulba hoped it looked more resolute than his shaking spirit felt, even if they weren't looking at each other. His arm slipped around Vinnie's.

"That's right."

It was softer than he would have liked, but it was all he could manage. They were Venusaurs. This was their job. Their home. (Though maybe that was each other, and this is where they were.) It hadn't been that long ago that they had smiled about it, even if they were delusionally tired. Bulba had felt an embarassed note of pride about it, feeling more sure of himself despite the unsurity around them. That felt like ages ago, with a problem they felt they could fix. Sort of. Not like this.

"That's why we're here." Whether or not that was a mistake, Bulba didn't have the right to say. It was on him. He had been the reluctant one. And now the moon was...

Bulba squeezed Vinnie's arm gently, shifting off the grass to get to his feet and carefully draw his lover up with him. "Let's get some work done."

Though he couldn't muster the will to smile, Vinnie did get to his feet. He shouldn't have been the one relying on Bulba to reassure them of their job - he was the elder of the two, after all. It was hard to shake the sense of responsibility for being the senior, too. How was Bulba staying so composed?

Well... probably because he knew he wasn't alone. And that meant Vinnie didn't have to shoulder it alone either.

He gave a sigh, and placed the manual down on the ground. There was only grim work left to them now, and it was nothing to be happy about.

"I guess so. Well..." Voice heavy, he began walking towards the broken greenhouse. "What can we even save?"

Edited 2015-11-22 08:39 (UTC)

The question draped itself over the younger saur's shoulders, which tensed trying to hold it, it's weight too much to simply shrug away. The outcome was bleak, no matter what angle you looked at it. There was glass at his feet and an end inching slowly towards them all.

The truth of the matter was still sitting right there for all to see.

"I don't know," Bulba's voice cracked despite how composed he might have looked.

He marched himself through the threshold of glass and dirt regardless, seeking a discarded broom. "I don't know, but..."

"There's no way've knowing what's on the other side've that door," Vinnie said, "if it even opens."

He grabbed a pair of thick gardening gloves - hopefully it'd be enough protection for his hands against the large pieces of glass. Picking them up one by one was a bit tedious, but it helped clear the way for Bulba to sweep up the smaller shards.

"The Pikmin could probably follow us. They're small, easy t'carry. But the Piranhas..."

There was a shudder in the younger saur's careful sweeping as the motion came to a momentary halt. It resumed as quickly as it stopped, but the motions were quicker, the grip white knuckled.

It wasn't the first time he had thought about it, but that didn't make cold weight in his gut any lighter.

"I... I don't want them to think we gave up," Bulba murmured, giving the lip he'd been biting so hard a break. "Or that we don't care or..." The words faded and he went right back to worrying his lip, focusing on the pile of debris he was trying to centralize.

"I know, but what else can we do?" It was an honest question, laced with angry desperation. Frustrated by his own helplessness, Vinnie tossed a large chunk of glass outside, where it shattered against the grass. Just more rubble, what did it matter when the entire campus was doomed?

His hands had clenched into fists, and his jaw tightened. It made him sick to his stomach to even think about it, but sometimes... being plants, that meant they had to accept that nothing lasted forever.

"It'd probably be quick," he muttered, but he didn't sound entirely convinced himself. "If we left'em a ton've food, they might..."

Vinnie sighed. Be so busy eating that they wouldn't notice? That seemed cruel, but at least they'd be happy for a while?

It could work, for a little bit. Maybe. At least it would be a brief reprieve from a threat they couldn't even see.

Bulba moved closer to lay a hand on Vinnie's back, but there was not much comfort in the action. There was too much anger and sorrow in the face of this problem for there to be reassurance, but there was understanding. That they were each mad and sad and desperate for an answer where things worked out.

"Maybe if they were sleeping," he suggested softly, drawing his hand back to the broom and letting his eyes fall back to the floor. "I'd rather be dreaming when it..."

Well. When it all came down.

Parting glass

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