Logs:New

New
Dramatis Personae Anahita, Lucien
In Absentia	2023-03-20 "I have been adrift near my whole life, I am quite accustomed."
Location <NYC> Le Carrefour - Le Bonne Entente - Astoria - Queens
Above the bustle of the clerestory restaurant, tucked at the base of the bell tower, this indoor garden and library is out of the way and easily overlooked, sure to become a favored "hidden gem" of travel guides. Low bookshelves full of mythology, fairy tales, and folklore ring the central elevator shaft and the stairway spiraling around it like an easily navigable labyrinth. Beyond these are plants in a variety of tastefully whimsical containers, each with its own engraved plaque giving the common name, the scientific name, and their significance to various traditional stories and practices. The walls have been done away with so that the room extends beyond the doric columns into a surreal rooftop garden enclosed with glass stretching between the tower's massive buttresses. The arrangement of plantlife becomes less formal as one moves out into the four arms of the conservatory, visible containers giving way to beds and terraces and eventually landscapes carefully cultivated to look wild. There is plentiful seating scattered along the paths and just off of them, from proper benches to picturesque logs to surprisingly comfortable boulders. By day, myriad butterflies dance amongst the enchanted vegetation, and likewise moths by night. A shallow stream weaves throughout, feeding ponds that host plants of their own alongside fish, frogs, and turtles. Wandering the outer edges of the conservatory, one could almost feel lost in a mystical forest but for the stunning views of the cityscape beyond the glass. It is not so very late -- but late enough that the hotel is quiet, the restaurant closed, the cafe populated only by a small handful of night owls. The conservatory might well be empty -- certainly it seems so at first glance. Its only occupants are currently quiet -- one even moreso than the other. Lucien is tucked off by one of the farther ponds, cross-legged on a flat stone, simply dressed, tonight, in white linen pants and a pale blue long-sleeved tee, no shoes. There's a copy of Zen Cho's Spirits Abroad sitting on the rock beside him together with a small still-cooling quiche and a tall glass of some kind of blackberry-muddled lemonade. And beside that, paws planted on the stone and head tilting in almost comical inquisitiveness, a sleek pointy-faced black and tan shepherd mix with one ear pricked high and one flopped partially over. Flèche is staring down for an intently long time at a frog perched beside the water until, finally, making up her mind to try and poke it with her nose. When the frog jumps off into the water she looks indignant at the water it splashes up onto her. The reproachful look she gives Lucien is met only with an unhelpful and equally indignifying boop, at which point the mutt huffs off to pad in wounded exploration of the garden paths, perhaps seeking a more sympathetic ear than her current human is giving. The pickings are slim at this hour, and sympathetic or no the only other human Flèche can find is Anahita, making her slow way out into the wilder reaches of the garden. She's dressed fancier than is her habit in a gauzy black knee-length tunic cinched with a belt in a rainbow of beads and tassels, capacious gray pants, colorful beaded sandals, with a bright red shayla draped loosely about her shoulders. Everything but the scarf looks faded and threadbare, but the pink and purple hyacinths woven into her two crown braids are fresh and fragrant. "Oh! Where did you come from, pup?" She lets the dog come up to her and get in a good sniff before giving her a gentle scratch behind the back of one ear. When the dog wanders off she follows, still at her own leisurely pace, deep into the magical forest. "Are you a cù-sìthe, come to spirit me away?" She does not admittedly seem very concerned at the prospect of being carried off by fairies, and though she stops when she spots Lucien she's only tense for a moment. "Blessed Equinox," she says at a small delay, "whatever you name it." Flèche stops proudly when she has led Anahita back to Lucien -- look what a good herding she's done, all the humans together now! -- and looks over at Lucien expectantly, ears pricked and tail flagging. "Goodness, yes, I see," Lucien murmurs approvingly to the dog, holding out one hand palm-out to her. "-- though Flèche's bark has only ever struck fear into the hearts of squirrels." Flèche trots forward, obediently touching her nose to his palm and then sitting with eyes fixed very intently on Luci until he produces a small treat from a pants pocket. "I name it a lovely day to welcome in the springtide, and a perfect time to find some balance. Have you?" His brows hitch just slightly when he looks to Anahita. "-- Had a chance to welcome her in?" Anahita lifts one brow. "Striking fear into the hearts of city-dwelling squirrels is no mean feat." She drifts closer and lays a hand on the slender yet already gnarled trunk of a Judas tree, but her eyes are still trained casually on the antics of man and dog alike. "I have had a chance. How goes your welcoming? Have you found some balance?" "I started some new foxgloves -- just over there," Lucien is nodding toward a not-far-distant section of garden. "New seeds in the earth always does feel like spring and I are starting off on a good foot. I suppose we shall see." He is shifting in his sitting position, pushing off against the rock to better rotate and face Anahita. "I would say you are making a habit of chance encounters in my garden, but I suppose finding me here is hardly much chance." Anahita's smile is warm and indulgent when she looks over at tht bed he indicates. "I find that extremely spring-like, as well." She looks up at the clusters of pink blossoms on the tree she's leaning lightly against. "I didn't really expect to find anyone here. I didn't necessarily expect to find it open at all, honestly, but I was at loose ends and." She doesn't trail off, just concludes with a small shrug. "I'm glad I took the chance, else I wouldn't have met this fairy hound or had the chance to gush at you about your garden in person." Evidently not one to waste time on said gushing, she goes right into, "It's a rare and precious and wonderful place. Every turn of the path brings some new pleasure." There's a warmer crinkle to Lucien's eyes, pleased, at the compliments. "It does not close. I rather intended it to be a place people might find a peaceful moment or a bit of magic when they might need it, and -- regrettably, life's stressors do not seem to keep a set schedule." His hand has dropped down to one side, fingertips trailing just barely against the surface of the pond. "Is there something in particular that has left you adrift?" "Parts of this hotel just do not feel like a hotel at all. This part most of all, but..." Anahita hums thoughtfully. "You know, I haven't really seen any part of it that feels like a hotel. I have it on good authority there are conference rooms, though, and I take the existence of guest rooms on faith in your thoroughness." At the question she laughs bright and sharply amused. "A chance to welcome in spring. With people from my homeland. Over delicious food and drink." The mirth fades as quickly as it came. "Forgive me. I have been adrift near my whole life, I am quite accustomed. Only, sometimes seeing people who aren't just makes it more. Apparent." "We even have a business center," Lucien informs Anahita very solemnly, "if you are ever of a mind to stop by and send faxes." He does not laugh, when Anahita does, just inclines his head in a small acknowledgment. "We can grow accustomed to quite a lot. But -- this is the time for planting new seeds, non? What do you suppose it would take for you to establish some roots?" "Business center," Anahita echoes, both eyebrows raised. "Well, that does sound terribly important. I'm glad you're here for those in need of sending faxes and the like." Her fingertips press a little harder into the trunk of the tree. "It is, and my aesthetic does pull hard toward 'weird old woman gardening by the dark of the moon'." The delighted smile she'd put on fades, just a little. "I suppose it will take time and patience and changing old habits. Maybe some magic, too. There's always more of that at work than seems obvious, even for those who look for magic everywhere." Her gaze travels around the garden, and her smile brightens again when it settles on the pond. "It's easier to find, some places." The pleased warmth returns to Lucien's face. "The world has a quite a lot of wild magic running about," he allows lightly, "but I do enjoy the work of cultivating it, as well." His head tips to one side, eyes searching Anahita's expression thoughtfully. "If you are looking for new magic and new habits, I have been seeking a caretaker for the gardens, here. Indoor and out." He lowers his eyes, lifting his hand from the water to flick droplets lightly back down against the pond's surface. "-- forgive me if that is rather presumptive. I've know idea your desires nor the existing demands on your time. I've only been rather hoping for someone who would understand -- not just the care the plants need, here, but..." This trails off with a slow and uncertain crease of his brows. Anahita blinks at Lucien for a moment before lowering her eyes to the pond's surface and the ripples he's just made there. "I've no demands on my time but telling stories and doing odd jobs around my neighborhood. I am looking for new magic and new habits, and being paid to care for any garden would be a dream come true, to say nothing of this one." She looks back up at him and tilts her head. "You are hoping for someone who understands the significance of these plants' stories, powers, and relationships with the world around them, humanity included?" Lucien's head inclines again. "There are many expert horticulturists who I am sure I could trust to keep these plants thriving. But someone who understands the energy they should be cultivating here, too -- who would be glad to share it with those who stop by..." There is just a hint of self-consciousness in his smile, here. "That is a care I have been reluctant to simply pass along based on an exemplary resume." "That is a care I can supply and would do so happily here," Anahita says, the dip of her head a shallow bow, "and I am flattered that you would consider me. But I must warn you my resume is far from exemplary, even setting aside almost fifteen years of unemployment, which I can only assume you have." She drops her hand and leans a shoulder against the flowering tree instead. "I do fancy myself an excellent gardener, but solely on the merits of...gardening." This does not sound in the least like self-deprecation. "If I cared so much what you looked like on paper, I would have asked after your resume first." There's a glimmer of amusement returning to Lucien's eyes. "The plants are not so fussed with the vagaries of capitalism. I imagine they teach you their needs every bit as well even if you are doing it for food or for love and not for money." "Even if," Anahita agrees, relaxing into an easy expression that isn't quite a smile but gently suggests it. "Spring equinox is the Persian new year festival. We call it Nowruz, 'new day'. This day has not felt very new for me, until now." She looks up at the Judas tree's blossoms again and straightens up, pushing herself to her full if probably still unimpressive height. "When can I start?"