1.1.01.01.014: flowers are not to be picked, they are to be enjoyed by everyone.

[needshumility]

[Eddie's on camera. He's grinning. This isn't meant to be public, but it isn't. He's on deck, so you can see the stars behind his head, and a greenhouse in one corner.]

Jane! Jane! JANE! [he's raised his voice. Oh no. The camera turns to some flowers - all the colours are overly bright, and quite obviously artificial, to anyone with normal sight. They're incredibly vivid, and might give you a headache if you look too long, but this doesn't seem to bother Eddie too much.]

We got a garden! [He pans across a small few beds of flowers, all in variants of vivid colours - even the leaves are a slightly unnatural green]

Brilliant. I could kiss someone.

[pause, and he realises this is public, so thinks he ought to say something.]

Um. Nobody pick our flowers. They're... there for public enjoyment.

Comments

[persephonepearl.livejournal.com]

The green room?

Is that what they call your afterlife?

[needshumility.livejournal.com]

Um. I don't really know what an afterlife is, but I'd say it was more of a before-death.

[persephonepearl.livejournal.com]

I see. This is what happens when you stop being alive. What happens to the soul.

[needshumility.livejournal.com]

I... huh. [He shrugged] Never really thought about it. I mean, the bodies are usually taken away and incinerated, especially if it's the Mildew.