The green lady (Lady, not faerie!), who named herself Andrea yet again, in spite maybe, or because of his address, seemed to be at a great loss about the kinds of color companions she had in the garden. And... she had not been outside? That was strange... To him it was. Like shifting from water to land maybe. But possibly even more alien. Being outside was second nature to him. On the water. On the land. But not inside of buildings. Not being outside was... different. A differential he had quite a hard time at overcoming. While he just blinked at her a few times quite confusedly. “Poison Ivy is the name of the plant you rolled yourself in when I found you. Don't touch it with your skin.” He therefore explained the obvious. With that blinking stare that, in some quite unforgivable way communicated nicely his own estrangement at the ways of her upbringing.

“Ah it is no trouble at all, Andrea.” He reassured her in a very not-reassuring voice, his own confusion still finding a place among the other emotions present. Not that there were many to speak of. There never were in his voice. He could make them appear sometimes. He could make them vanish better. No hints at all. Everything normal. Ordinary. Always blank. “If you don't object, I will see you to your room now that we have gotten the rashes their immediate attention.” He said into the uncomfortable silence. Immediate attention. Pouring water all over her. A funny way of giving attention, but it should work. Slightly. And masking his still great discomfort at her ways, he took the time to walk up to her into the area of freshly watered ground, that was somewhat squishy in sound and feel. “And while en route, we should talk about something different.” Yes, there was something that he could use her quite distressed state for. That he could question her about. Needed to question her about just a little. And maybe do a little bonding to another person. By pressing them to reveal what he wanted. By learnign about them and revealing as little as he could. As always. The ways of smallest risk, not resistance. Need indeed. He needed her.

There was, after all, still the matter of her unruly boyfriend to attend to, who continued to occupy that very special place in his mind, on which she herself had scratched today. The one that was quite adamant about teaching certain people their lessons. Even if they were unwilling to listen. Andrea did just listen a little too much. As her friend seemed too intent on listening too little. Life had a funny way of putting people together it seemed. And he would be punished. Like her. He had to learn after all. Need. And discomfort. No water. No plants. What kind of life had she lived. Loved?

On the verge of simply walking away, she was stopped and distracted by his offer to walk her to her room. Was he being polite?... but he probably didn't want to. Her eyebrows joined together in her confusion. People had a funny way of offering to do things they did not want to do, and while it polite to, she still didn't understand it. Why would a store clerk offer to help her out with her bags, and then when she accepts, he sighs and rolls his eyes? She blinked, frowning slightly, and pushed the thoughts from her mind. They didn't matter. She didn't really care if she was to be escorted somewhere.. she was rather used to doing things on her own after all. "I do not mind at all."

Her shoes forgotten for the moment, she followed him out of the muck from water meeting grass and dirt, without much more to say. He mentioned talking of other things... and she was at a loss for what to say to him. What was she supposed to talk about?... "Alright...Well, What do you do when you are not here Martin?" An innocent enough question. Did he live at the mansion as well as work? Or did he have a nice little apartment, or a house, that he called home. She imagined him being the type who liked building things for some reason... like model planes. Normally quiet people did that sort of thing.. right?

Or maybe she was just making a general assumption... probably just generalizing. She was a pretty quiet person herself, and she hated making planes, or anything for that matter that didn't have to do with flowers. "When I'm not here I'm working." She blinked, stopping herself before she started scratching at her arm. "I am a florist, so I get to play with flowers all day. It is pretty fun... and I get to use my mutation too." Her eyes dropped to her legs while she walked, catching sight of the ugly red marks, and she wrinkled her nose. "I shall never wear skirts again.." She muttered, her voice low seeing as the words had been more to herself than anything else.

She followed him, his gesture, suggestion, which was well. He proceeded to walk at her side, the left one of course, ready to offer her the assistance of his arm if it was called for. Somehow he felt that that might be the case. Though offering the hand. The arm. The skin. Felt... wrong. It was right in this mask. And then her questions started. Such innocence in little words.“Ah yes, after work, I usually read books...” This was not a lie. He read. Not at all a lie. But the revelation that he enjoyed the company of printed letters, maybe not the kind she would associate with him, but rather interesting things about self defense, weapons and security systems, was also designed to give him space to think. While his mouth lazily strolled around the vowels in his mind, he thought about the possible things a person his apparent age might do in leisure time. Training an apprentice for a world dominating healer did somehow not fit in well with that in his mind. Racing thoughts as his mouth closed around the last words he proceeded “... I also enjoy nightlife.” Martin-party. Was not what she would hear with his ears. It was not untrue either. Just wrong. Associations, expectations could work so well for you, if you knew where to use them.

“Florist. It sounds like you can judge the quality of gardens, do you not? What do you think of this one.” His steps had taken them to the door while they talked and the view was now obscured. Only a big green surface of grass lay in direct view, trees and bushes blocking sights of the flowerbeds, his floral children that wanted so much attention, sometimes more than he could warrant giving them. He added as small addition in a much deeper voice, lower, just like her own, as if it was a tip, a hint just for her ears. Not eyes. Ears only. “You should still wear skirts if the occasion calls for it. They become you very well.” It was, of course, just polite conversation. He was neither a great judge of fashion nor had great interest in it. But it was useless to limit ones garment choices based on past experiences only. One had to go with what the occasion called for. Always go with the flow and just offer that little bit resistance that made you normal. That hint that everything was not ordinary. When in fact ordinary people would never kill. Yes. Just the right hint of ordinary.

“Was your job, by chance, where you met the boy named Saphirus?” He then raised the question that could, if she led him, as she led her inside, pave the path that could give him what he wanted. Just polite and innocent conversation. Yes his eyes were peaking in interest now. Peeking at her from the corners of his head. Stabbing blue daggers. Show and tell. Yes?

Books... books were something she could understand. Books, of a fiction nature, had been what kept her from tearing her own hair out many times back home. Nightlife though.. that was something she didn't understand. "What do you mean... nightlife?" She had gone out at night before... or, rather, been out at night. It didn't usually end well. Furrowing her eyebrows, she turned her attention instead to his next question, and had to grin just a little. "I...I would not say that I have worked in that field long enough to properly and accurately be able to judge anther's work..." Andrea blinked, and turned to glanced over her shoulder a little, one arm bent across her stomach to grasp at her other arm. "I have only been there half a year... I still know so little."

"Besides, I kill everything I touch, I would have no hope for planting live flowers." She glanced at the hedges... the grass, and all of what she couldn't see she tried to recall by memory. Flower beds... trees, most recently a nice patch of what he called poison Ivy... She recalled her missing shoes quite suddenly, and pursed her lips. "This Garden is the biggest I have ever seen... It is Magnificent, when compared to my mothers. " A truth... seeing as her mothers had been a tiny little green hour in the back yard, and a few flower beds in the front. Being able to walk around in someones work was quite amazing. "Did you do all of this yourself Martin?" ...Or maybe there had been another before. Or still was? She had only ever seen one person out in the garden... but to be fair she did tend to avoid the times of the day when people were out and about. His words caused a tiny blush to spring to her already abused cheeks, and she shrugged a shoulder, trying to act like it didn't matter. "I suppose you are right... though there are many things I cannot do in skirts." Like falling out windows... Totally justified. She would never let Saph talk her into buying one again.... probably.

Her flush deepened at his questioning of where she had met Saph. With her cheeks a nice browned turkey color, she dropped her eyes and turned back to the door. "No... I did not meet him there..." She glanced at Martin, wondering just a bit why he had asked, and shuffled herself inside. "I met him when I first came here... nearly a year ago." Her first day, in fact... and it hadn't been under very good circumstances. She could remember how heavy he had been while carrying him up the stairs, and how guilty she had felt when he had woken up in the Doctors office... "We met under...um... odd circumstances."

Yes... nightlife. What was that again? How was it different from Daylife? Was there such a thing? He wouldnt know. Darkside, Lightside, Dayside, it was all the same, inherently, was it not? People behaved differently in the dark though. Out of sight was out of mind. Never for him. “Nightlife... doing things at night. Going out into the city.” true words. Every one true. They just walked by some landscape scene painted in oil. Peaceful nature. Plastic reality. Art...ifical worlds. War was gone there. There was always war. Weapons.

Do you use your voice for war?

Apparently not. Innocence had a way of disarming people. Grown up people. He wasn't necessarily grown up. He wasn't many things at all. Least of them truthful. The way other people saw it. “Oh I think there are ways around your limitations.” There were with his. There were with almost everyones. All it took. The landscape disappeared behind them as a staircase, a wooden one, appeared in front of them. Slow steps taking them forward, into the rabbithole, down that esophagus of madness, of words constricting, pushing them into the acid, near the acid of honesty, honestly, I'm dangerously close, Andy. Cant you see? Blue eyes blinking at her. “I have to wear gloves lest things happen.” Better for everyone involved. Things happening. His voice was so cold there. Unemotional. Distance, Detachment speaking here, tuuutuuutuuuut are you connected yet? “The garden was there before me. I'm just adding my touch.” Gloved touch, its wrong, can't you see? His hands were moving now, slightly readjusting, forcefully. Violently almost. Hinting at it. “Sometimes Kids start thinking they could help me. Some actually do.” Mowing the lawn for example. That was something they could do under supervision. But no one touched the flowers. His mask disliked it quite a lot. His work, his touch brought life here. New life, old life. Growing life.

He did not continue down the avenue of skirts, but proceeded to go upwards, closing in on the target destination. Coming ever closer. Nearing the goal. “Could you tell me something about it Andrea?” Soft voice, nice mask here. Boring for truth in the darkness of her soul. Come spill here. I'm no bird in the mexican sea. Luckily.

“Nightlife... doing things at night. Going out into the city.”

That made sense... she she still wasn't quite able to place what those things were. She had been out a few times... one had been the amusement park. That had been fun, awkward, but fun. Cotton candy had proved itself an enemy where her stomach was concerned, but then again caramel apples had proven themselves a for to her teeth. She nodded slightly, and blinked at him. Surely he wasn't the type to don colorful glowing lights and disappear into those 'clubs' where loud thumping music echoed out of... He seemed much to quiet and reserved for that sort of thing. The people that bounced around in those sort of places were always so packed with energy... and they talked fast. "Oh, well the latest I am out is about eight o clock, after work. I am not one for...eh... nightlife."

She nodded at what he said next, and couldn't squash the excitement that jumped to her features when he informed her of his need for gloves. She lifted her own, and blinked at them, wiggling her fingers for a moment under her own dark coverings. "I must wear them as well. How funny, that two people should meet with such an ailment. Small world, I guess." She withdrew her voice a little, seeing as it had pitched with her excitement, and tucked her chin in a little. "I cannot touch living things... well, most things really, lest they die." She managed a meek smile, and peek at him like a child. "what is it you must protect others from, Matrin?"

She felt her cheeks darken again, and fiddled with her shirt. He wanted to know more about her meeting with Saph? Such an embarrassing tale... "It is... um... not all that exciting, I am afraid. When I first came here Shin was kind enough to help me in and show me around a little." She cleared her throat and scratched at her cheek, only remembering to stop a moment later. "I had never seen a Library so...so.. gigantic before! Shin humored me and let me look around a little.. He had given me tea as well, and on our way out I had turned and tripped, and Saph had been heading in...and I sent my tea cup flying at him..." She gestured with her arm, a little guilty frown on her lips, and tilted her head slightly as she reached up to touch the side of her glasses. "When I fell, my glasses came off and he got a good look at my eyes." A small wince, and she laughed nervously.

"I...eh... I am able to knock people out with a look, I guess you could say. It was really hard helping Shin carry Saph up the stairs to the Doctors office..." She peeked at him again, nervously, and smiled meekly. "I was very surprised that he even bothered to talk to me afterward..."

Not one for nightlife? Small grin there. On his face. After all: Who would think of him that way. A danger? Somehow. But most certainly not that adjective. Dangerous. He was. And he was quite happy the way it was. People not knowing much. So he shared his smile. Reserved as the rest of him. Just the illusion of happiness. Like so many other things it was just there in the mirror. Just there on the other side. Silver lining being? Don't look too deeply? That was always good advice for those that wanted to keep their necks intact.

The response to her question carried that smile across to her and her blinking at him. (Was she really that innocent?) “Very small indeed.” Thinking he was, if course, of some of the chance encounters that floated around in his head. It seemed, by happenstance, just like yesterday when he had chatted with a woman that looked mostly like a giant cat. That smile of his, that was not quite there. He felt a connection at a point, at their hands, where leather met skin. “Why, themselves of course.” There was just that little pressed air there, that suggested something more. Besides that smile of his. There was always more. Touching people... was anathema for him. No thinking about that. Until he had to. Until they made him do it. A touchy subject. Yet he managed to say this lightly in a way. Lightly hinting at the gravity. Difficulty of living with that predicament. She knew. Better than most she knew. And yet... it was not enough.

He listened to her quite with intent. Intentionally gripping the sound of her vocie in his head, dissecting it for information. Just that little extra. She was embarrassed. She often was, he recalled. Often turned that earthy shade he spent most of his days digging in. Delivered like smiles the answer to her unspoken question.“Oh Andrea, you are dangerous it seems...” And one part of him really meant that. Pray, young one, that you never see that one. “and some find that endearing” He let that stand in the small space between them like a wall. Drier than the rest of his statements. That feeling of distance tangible. Because he was not full of sores. Because he was older. Because he was... alien. And most importantly. Because he could. He did not find danger endearing. He found it usual. Commonplace.

Themselves... he said. he must protect them from themselves. She puzzled over that for only a moment before she decided that he must have been the valiant type. A white knight. Someone who shuts himself away from others to protect them. Like her parents had done! A smile over threw her nervous frown, and she leaned in a little to catch what else he had to say.

"Oh Andrea, you are dangerous it seems." She nodded, without really thinking about it. It was a fact that she had already known, one she was quite uncomfortable with too. Her face brightened up again when he finished what he was saying. She hoped it was endearing ... to one person at least. If not, then she was wasting a lot of time on day dreams and hopeless wishes. "I dearly hope so... It is nice to not feel quite so out of place sometimes."

Like when she was following a somewhat scary gardener around through weeds and poisonous plants just a little while ago. She was quite out of place then. She picked up her feet, feeling a new, refreshing burst of energy fill her, and sped up to walk beside him rather than behind. "I have to admit... I was a little frightened of you at first... but not anymore. You are a very nice Person, Martin." Indeed, any previous, childish worry that he was a boogey man. he had been nothing but kind to her... In fact, most of the people she had met in New York had been nothing but nice to her. She had been wrong in assuming that everyone would treat her like she had been treated back home. "Saphirus was like that too... but he was so nice to me that I felt bad Avoiding him." She smiled, cheerily to herself, and shrugged. And itched!.

It was time. They were nearing the appropriate door, Mission accomplished, was it not? His real self wanted to stare at her. The self that was he, buried as it was, under millions of copies. He thought he had a him. He thought he knew himself well. The parts of him that he used often he knew. It was a difference. Perhaps only in semantics – perhaps sometimes semantics was all that was needed to make one. There was something warm there in this eyes, his eyes she might notice. Some inkling of spring beyond all things cold and harsh. “If you say so, dear...” It was not meant to hurt her. It was not meant to bite. Somehow he managed to sound a little bit... grandfatherly at that, was a bit the way he patted her arm still ushering her forward through the interior of the Mansion, passing here and there trough the halls, past the walls, not seeing, barely noting, he went past with her in arm. Spirit.

That little bit of hunched-up-shoulders that made any word sound just right. Sound often different in meaning though, if you thought on it in hindsight. Grandfathers were the kind of wise that you did not see. They just did what they thought was best for their children's offspring – and you always heard just what you wanted to hear until you were older. And were aware of the limits you imposed upon yourself. It didn’t make them disappear of course. It just changed what you were. So he was to consider the truth of her words. The truth of the sameness between him and him. Between what could not be and was and what was and better not be. It was enough to twist his brains – understanding the others always was. What drove them was often enough just fear for their own lives. Emotion. What remained of humans when you took that away? He did not, could not answer the question to which he was the answer. The solutions were in sight, in mind they were not.

“I think this will be the part of the way I can go with you.” He turned to a door. Why he knew where she was living behind it? Maybe because her feet had led them there. Maybe because it was different. Because who saw anything other than what they wanted? “I hope you recover well.”

Silence.

...And then, just like that, they were at her door. She smiled at it, never having been so thankful to see a slab of wood before, and moved to lay her hand on the knob of her door, but paused. She turned a sincere smile back to him, ignoring for a moment the itch, and fought back the urge to extend a hand to him. While it was custom... she was covered in poison, and just this once, figured it could be over looked.

"I do, and I do believe I still owe you help in the garden." She glanced down at her spotty, swollen arms and legs and grimaced. "...Actual help." She blinked up at him, and tilted her head. Being color blind, she was not able to decipher what color of eyes he had. They seemed... unusually light, nearly gray. perhaps that meant they were really blue? Or a light green? Puzzled, she turned back to the situation at hand.

She could ponder his eye color and many other things once she was less itchy. "Thank you again, for helping me. It was very kind of you." She dipped in a little bow, the best she could do in lieu of a handshake. "Until we meet again."

She returned to opening her door, blissfully ignorant to the many things swirling about in Martins head, and stepped into her shared room. Verdy would have a fit, she was sure, if she saw the state that Andrea was in. First things first, with that on her mind, was to look up the quickest and most readily available concoction to lower the swelling... and hopefully get rid of some of those ugly red spots... She was starting to resemble a Christmas decoration, what with all of the red and green...