42 - Dust on her palms

by Fluxom

Tags: #cw:gore #cw:noncon #D/s #drugs #f/f #graphic_violence #hurt/comfort #scifi #accidental_conditioning #anxiety #blood #depression #disassociation #dom:female #dom:internalized_imperialism #dom:plant #Human_Domestication_Guide #medical_play #mindbreak #paranoia #self_care_is_over_were_doing_drugs_now #self_harm #self_harm_is_over_were_still_doing_drugs #sub:female #xenophobia
See spoiler tags : #awake_surgery #parasite/symbiote #plant_vampirism #sadomasochism #torture

cw for contemplations of mortality being combated via being horny, and impacts of memory loss

Solanum could not stop fretting over her floret. The small thing had staunchly refused being medicated through her recovery, insisting she didn’t want to miss the experience. It was a reckless request to make, of course. Any ethical treatment would mandate that the floret be inundated with pleasurable toxins such that they couldn’t feel a lick of the cellular trauma that was ravaging their flesh. Any *reasonable* affini would absolutely have reminded Autumn that this was *for her own good* and slipped the needle into her anyway despite the protests.

Solanum, however, was a highly fallible individual with strong emotional connections to the subject in question. She also had a sadist streak that made the way Autumn whimpered all teary-eyed particularly effective. As such, she acquiesced to her human’s request. Despite that, Solanum found no additional comfort in watching Autumn's recovery.

While the surgery had gone off without a hitch, it was still a massively invasive maneuver that was inherently damaging to outright deathly to perform on a living being. Autumn had passed out as soon as the surgery was over, and even with the implant’s help in healing her she was riddled with new bruises. Marks where the titanium bolts had anchored to her bones, deep purple rings marred her eyes, and the cutting site itself was a horrific splatter of black marks surrounded by cloying purples and sickly yellows.

Autumn had already developed a slight fever, her body shivering where able while she slipped in and out of a liminal sort of consciousness. She’d mutter under her breath at people that weren’t there or whine about how cold everything felt, all while her eyes alternated between blankly staring past the ceiling above her and slipping closed into sleep all over again, over and over again throughout the day as the dark bruise-like marks of the implant spread through her flesh.

It all reminded Solanum of how horribly *mortal* Autumn was. Her human wouldn’t one day rebloom, she wouldn’t linger past the winds and weathers that’d wear down mountains, she’d grow sick and weak and frail and- Solanum cut that line of thought off right there. She knew this would be an unavoidable factor when she’d gotten into this relationship. Some day Autumn’s body would crumble under the weight of it’s years and Solanum would still be there holding the dust of what once was and- no, no, cut THAT line of thought off entirely too.

Solanum had to distract herself from this matter. If she just drugged Autumn now then her floret could slip off into a pleasant dream and be free from those uncomfortable symptoms and then Solanum could go back to blissfully ignoring the questions of looming mortality and stars damn it this wasn’t helping. She had set her vines to wrap around Autumn’s sides in a comforting embrace, keeping a pair in the human’s twitching hands as well, then stalked out to the living room to seek a more effective distraction from her worries.

Solanum took to the time honored practice of reading. While her habit of sorting her collection by colors was absolutely useless for sorting through it in any meaningful way, it did make it slightly easier for her to just pick a color by mood and go from there. Her first selection, An Darkness Through The Void, was a mystery novel that she had read fifteen times now. It was about the last member of a fictional species learning that it had in fact one other member of it’s species left, only to discover that said member had been murdered and- nope. Solanum put that back on the shelf and grabbed the next book. Echoes Of Antiquated Will, a thriller novel written in the pre-domestication age of another xeno species. It had explosions and action and high-speed space rail chases and Solanum just remembered that it was also primarily about a character learning to cope with grief and maybe now wasn’t the time for that.

Solanum gave a great sigh as she deflated into her couch, body unravelling from it’s humanoid form entirely. From within her chest she pulled out her tablet and dialed into Hesplex’s line in a desperate attempt for Anything Else to take her attention, just to see that they had actually reached out to her first. Solanum chuffed. She must’ve been so busy fretting that she missed the ring.

>>Hex: hows autumn?
>>Lex: don’t make us wait too long or well come over n find out directly
>>Hex: dawns worrieddddddd
>>Lex: us too

>>Solarflower: She’s refusing medication
>>Solarflower: I gave her low level stuff so it’ll all heal right, but,
>>Solarflower: still nervous

>>Hex: not surprised lmgo
>>Lex: sounds like Autumn
>>Hex: didnt want to miss the experience
>>Lex: be careful or she’ll be asking to go on Os just to sate her curiosity
>>Hex: wat no way
>>Hex: probably’d back to back Ls for a few weeks to simulate it
>>Lex: thatd break her brain anyway
>>Hex: she’d make a cute O pet at least
>>Lex: picture her sucking on the end of a sugar root without a care in the world
>>Hex: ilex just look at dawn
>>Lex: yeah??? She’s adorable
>>Hex: i love her

>>Solarflower: this is not helping
>>Solarflower: can we talk about something else?
>>Solarflower: hows revenge on her behalf going

>>Several affini are typing…

>>Hex: the machinations of revenge far outpace the will and ability to enact them

>>Solarflower: that bad, huh

>>Lex: everyone captured has been taken care of
>>Lex: and we’ve squeezed the useful information from their adorable little brains already
>>Lex: but even with the six ships we’ve only caught so many threads
>>Hex: a different sect of rebels handled the knife, apparently
>>Hex: a group further out past pluto
>>Hex: spends all their time wiggling about trying to hoard goods to give to other rebels
>>Lex: Frustrating
>>Lex: decentralized leadership is so frustrating to hunt down
>>Hex: such an attack won’t happen again at least
>>Hex: we’ve got enough heads off the hydrant to deal with that for now
>>Lex: plus a bonus from the other day

>>Solarflower: that surprise attack?

>>Lex: rebel stole a ship and tried a suicide dive at us
>>Hex: wanted to save her gf
>>Lex: wouldn’t stop crying ‘till we put them back together
>>Hex: they’re connivents now!!!
>>Lex: we’re very proud of her for surrendering

>>Solarflower: somehow, this isn’t helping with my anxiety either

Solanum felt a slight tug on one of her vines and immediately bolted up, body lashing outward to grasp the doorframe to her bedroom and haul herself over in short order. Only when she was back besides Autumn did she even begin to reform herself into an appropriate shape. There she saw the human staring at her intently, eyes wide and focused for one brief moment.

Despite everything else going on, Solanum couldn’t help but be struck by how green her eyes were.

“Water,” Autumn spoke with a raspy breath. “Iron and protein.” Her eyes then rolled back up underneath the lids, and her body slumped down into rest once more. Solanum didn’t give herself time to contemplate the oddity of her tone in those words, or the way her gaze had shifted into a state of hardened focus. She instead zoned in on the words themselves. Water, iron, protein. The affini checked the clock and realized it was past lunch time.

Aw flowers.

She unraveled into a serpentine shape and rushed out to the kitchen. Water, iron, protein. Something from the synthesized meat selection would cover the last two parts nicely. Had to make it small enough that Autumn could eat it even in her current state. Solanum slipped through the kitchen, vines lashing about to fetch all the necessary goods. The affini had found it difficult to act on her own dietary needs with Autumn out of commission, but in this case since it was for her floret she had no trouble going straight to work instead. That there’d be enough portions left over for herself was just a side benefit as well.

Sol would admit that feeding Autumn was a bit of a selfish indulgence for her. Sure, it was necessary given Autumn couldn’t even tell what plane of existence her arms were on, but that didn’t change how the affini liked to perch beside her human and take such interaction at a leisurely pace.

In hindsight, she should have known this would be an inevitability the first time she’d taken the knife out of Autumn’s hand and fed her instead. She’d spent her whole life learning how to interact with other sophonts through the lens of domestication and hadn’t stopped to question if, perhaps, that might result in her unintentionally teaching this human to surrender into a pet’s position along the way. She had more years as a dominatrix under her belt than this human had years in her life, she should have been better than that.

Not that she could actually complain about the results at this point. As her fingers trailed over the length of Autumn’s chin she simply couldn’t help but enjoy the soft whimpers that slipped from the human’s throat. Through half-lidded, half-aware eyes her floret looked up at her in desperation, body incapable but soul *yearning* for even more. The sight elicited an all too familiar curl of warmth that rose up from her core and breached through her vines. It tempted her thorns to slip free from their prison, her stomach to churn, her countless blades all rising in a hunger no food could satisfy.

Dirt, of all the emotions to get back from reblooming it had to be *horny*. Sod it. A little indulgence would be fine.

Solanum speared one of the small cubes of cooked meat and dangled it over Autumn’s mouth, idly enjoying the way her human weakly attempted to reach up for it. The rich scents of spices dangled tantalizingly close in the air, luring her senses up. Good, Solanum thought. Moment by moment she watched the little human’s eyes slip up to awareness once more, her consciousness becoming a honed edge pointed towards sustenance.

The second Autumn tried to move towards it, Solanum simultaneously tipped the food out of reach as she pushed the human back down. “Now, now, love.” She purred. “You need to remain still while you heal.” Autumn looked towards her, eyes wide. Solanum could see the internal conflict play out moment by moment. Realization, confusion, understanding, then finally submission. It began with a focusing of the human’s pupils, followed by her eyes glancing back between the food to Solanum. Then followed a soft relaxation of tension, eyes slipping back into a half-lidded state of partial awareness. Finally, her lips parted to give a quiet ‘please’.

Solanum had seen this dance play out a hundred times before and never tired of it. Whether it was ropes or food or knives, again and again she had taken a sophont and bent them down to their knees for fun just to derive joy from their small acts of submission. But this time would be different. There would be no quiet thanks and parting of ways to never be seen again. Autumn was *her’s*. This act would beget another, then another and another and another in an intoxicating spiral of delight as Solanum bent the thing’s will past the point of breaking then shattered it completely and by the stars they were both going to be overjoyed by it.

Solanum pressed the meat to the human’s mouth, gently sliding it across her lips and leaving a soft glistening coat of oils against her flesh. Autumn didn’t even try to reach for it this time. Good girl. Gently Solanum teased her floret with the bit of sustenance, letting the taste of spices slip into her mouth until even the well trained pet couldn’t keep herself contained much longer. As soon as she saw Autumn’s tongue try to reach for the food, she pulled it back, then replaced it with one of her fingers instead. The invasive digit pressed past Autumn’s teeth, pinning her tongue down against the base of her mouth.

Ohh the noise Autumn made in response was *delightful*. A strained cry of frustration met with erotic tension, highlighted by a red gradation upon her cheeks. Her eyes darted side to side, body attempting to curl up in frustration. All of it was like a musical melody of corporeal motions that Solanum wanted to drink in to the finest detail. ‘More. Show me more’, Solanum thought. Her grip tightened around Autumn’s jaw, eliciting another whimper and shiver before surrender overcame the floret. Her finger curled around the human’s tongue, drawing in her attention down to the singular point of the plant’s intrusion and teasing her with the lingering tastes on the edges of her lips.

Overarching sensations begat desperation, and soon Autumn was nursing off the digit. Her face had broken apart past shame, eyes slipped closed and her mind wholly focused on nothing but the overpowering feelings that emanated from her mouth. It was beautiful. Deliriously inciteful to Solanum’s senses. As controlled as her expressions could be she was no less enthralled by the interaction, internally consumed by the fires of a passionate hunger that mirrored the desperate motions of the girl beneath her.

Solanum pulled back her hand, eliciting another desperate whine from the human before she stuffed some food in there. Autumn’s mouth closed in around it instantly, not even giving Solanum a chance to change her mind at that point. The noises her human made were an ecstatic sort, her eyes sliding shut to focus wholly on the delicious taste that played over her tongue. Solanum’s eyes were similarly focused, though in her case it was to drink in the totality of the woman’s reactions. Every twitch, every gasp, every shuddering groan of satisfaction, all played over the steady rhythm of her heartbeat and stars above they were already in sync.

Once Autumn swallowed, Solanum pierced another piece of meat and dangled it over her mouth. This time Autumn didn’t reach for it. Her tongue didn’t search in hope of an extra taste. She just laid there, lips parted, waiting obediently for Solanum to decide to feed her. Solanum felt the false fangs inside her false mouth grind against each other. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

The two’s game lasted ‘till well past the point of emptying her plate. By the end Autumn was bright red, breath gasping in a quiet desperation for ever more of Solanum’s touch while Solanum, in turn, continued to broil in an ever growing wave of hunger. She couldn’t wait to be able to drink from her human again. To feel that rich taste of copper and iron flowing through her roots once more. To indulge in the way Autumn’s body would shiver in anticipation, then calm all over as her blood left her.

Solanum made a conscious effort to keep her thorns from tearing into her floret just at the thought of it. Later. When her body was healed and better able to handle the rigors of the affini’s inclinations. She busied herself running her finger across the crumbs and sauce left on the plate, leisurely sliding her touch over the obedient little floret’s tongue afterwards.

Each touch was another chance to watch the human submit to her intrusion, and then become wholly consumed in the raw sensation of her touch right after. Over and over, the affini feeling ever more like she could indulge in this floret forever. She hadn’t felt this way in ages. Not in any of the clubs or with any of the flings she’s had, not since-

“Sssolanum,” Autumn whispered, and Solanum dropped the entire line of thought to return to kneeling by her human’s side. “Sssssolannnnum,” Autumn played the word over on her tongue, apparently fascinated by how it rolled over her lips. Her eyes were somewhere distant again, no doubt being befuddled by the implant. The affini flipped out her tablet and double checked for any information from Nyx yet. All that she saw was a blinking sign that read ‘Please wait! I’m hard at work!’. Right. Just wait and hope for now, then. “Sssol,” Autumn repeated. “Nnnyoom.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Your namesh funny.” She giggled. “Where’d ya get it?”

Solanum blinked. What? “What?” She said, her mind absolutely failing to find a more fitting way to ask after that.

Autumn just bit the end of her finger, holding it firmly within her mouth. “Nyahhe” she mumbled around the stolen bit of plant matter and now she was sucking on it oh stars this was distracting how was she supposed to THINK like this dirt dirt dirt.

“Uh,” Focus you horny fucking plant. “I chose the name Vitis as a variant of the first name I’ve worn, but Solanum was suggested to me by Hesperia. She ah, well, she thought it meant sunflower in your language and I think she was hoping it would brighten me up a bit.” The look on Hesperia’s face when she found out how wrong she was was rather amusing, on the bright side.

Autumn giggled weakly around the finger. “Suhflohwer,” she mumbled, eyes drifting past her affini entirely. “Tell me mohre.”

Solanum rumbled. Alright then, story time. She slipped down to sit beside her human, elbows propped on the side of the bed. “Before I came to this area I went by… well, this will be a little difficult, as I have to translate everything for it to make sense, but, before I was called Zullah.” Her grasp on the serpentine speech from that time was admittedly a bit rusty, but she still recalled how to piece together a proper voice box to repeat the sounds. Sinuous tongue, limited mouth mobility, bring in the air and compress it down to a proper hiss that rattled her false ribs with their low vibrations. She rolled the name over once more, this time letting her floret soak in the soft shifts in tone and speech as she went.

“That was when I had spent time with a species you’d closely equate to snakes, I think. Except they had this whole… war thing going on, automated weapons everywhere, it was quite silly. Before that, I-” She paused, momentarily stumbling over herself. That was about 50 terran years ago, so she was… root, her memory had a hole in it. It was happening again stars damn it. The memory was faded and grey and thinning to the point of slipping apart. Stop and piece it together, Solanum. 80 years ago was when Streum passed, after that she wandered. Zullah was… was at a space station before travelling to the milky way? Or, no, that was a different spot. Whatever. Skip it. She had to move on before the whole thing spiralled away with her. “When I lived with Streum, I had adopted their language and culture, and as such I carried a name written by their people.”

This time she had to reconfigure most of her chest cavity to recall the right noises. What slipped from her throat next was closer to a beastial rumble than what Autumn might have considered words. Like a revving engine, the noise emanated with uneven staccatos of volume over a constant bass line of reverberations. The speech continued even on inhale, alternated noises marking alternative meaning before another exhale resumed the deepest part of the noise. The melody of chaotic noise came together to form something that could almost be considered a name, if it was spoken by a lawnmower.

“Tha’s pretty,” Autumn mumbled.

The rumble in Solanum’s chest peaked into a satisfied purr. “Isn’t it?” She asked with her human voice box, not stopping to interrupt the tiger-like rattle. It was easy to maintain, given it was based on a species that could speak on both inhale and exhale. Hmm, how much did she recall to say still. Little fairy tales, cute songs to sing, kind forwards, the color of Streum’s eyes… if they were purple. If they weren’t purple then she wasn’t remembering that right anymore and she wasn’t brave enough to check the old photos again right now.

Solanum’s voice followed familiar rhythms of a gentle tune as her mind wandered. What had she been before she was with Streum? Something with a V again. Then another even lengthier name before that. What had Pollyon called her? Or the friends before then, or the affini who had raised her, or… Solanum mentally grimaced. Memory was a fickle thing all over again. She couldn’t even keep track of what was lingering and what readily frayed apart. Worse still was the mind’s ability to fabricate memories into falsehood whole cloth.

The affini didn’t want to lose Autumn. Not to time, not to disease, not to memories becoming nothing more than lost fog in the breeze. She didn’t want to lose the gentle sound her human made as she writhed under the affini’s touch. Solanum frowned. Wasn’t she trying to *avoid* thinking about this? And who was knocking on the door!?!? Didn’t they know she was busy thinking about the inevitable mortality of all things while accidentally distracting herself from being horny while trying to distract herself from thinking about the inevitable mortality of all things!?

Solanum detached her finger so Autumn could continue to nibble on it, trailing one more vine behind her as she rose up to storm to the door. Whatever this was had better be important. The affini reached for the door, shoved it aside and- aw flower petals, she was too sober to deal with this.

Solanum considered one of the greatest benefits of all non-affini species aboard the Baiera was their complete lack of cultural understanding around Ambrosia Granum. The… artistically inclined affini had a habit introducing themselves as twelfth bloom, as that was when they stopped counting. The official record stated they were probably a 500th bloom with a margin of error of about 100 blooms either way. The accent Ambrosia wielded in affini tongue implied even older, hailing from a linguistic root that was outdated and dead before the affini fleets even left their homeworld.

If there was any affini that Solanum wasn’t emotionally prepared to deal with in her current state, it was them. The one who’d had their soul weighed down to breaking by time several times over before Solanum was even a seedling. The affini whose mind was a focused obsession to a vague craft. Did they remember all of their florets? Did they recall what the skies looked like in their home world all those years ago?

“Solanum?” Ambrosia had been speaking, bent at the hip to be at her eye level to lock their four greys to her greens.

“...sorry, I was distracted, yes?”

“I come bearing gifts!” Ambrosia spun around, plucking the packages from their three barion florets before stopping in a dramatic pirouette, arms outstretched to hold the three out towards her. Sol reached for the goods, but as soon as she did Ambrosia promptly snapped to a leisurely gait as they strolled right past her, three florets in tow. Yeah, sure, why not, everyone else just barges in anyway. “I believe that makes me a salmon in terran sayings, if I recall right.”

“Supposedly the real term is gift horse.”

“Ah,” Ambrosia clicked several tongues at once. “One of *those*.”

“You do *not* know what a horse is.” Solanum insisted incredulously.

“I’ll have you know I’m very familiar with terran dendrology! Why, there’s a whole forest of horses on the western coast of one of their landmasses. I’ve been told it’s quite beautiful and they grow very large.”

“I actually don’t believe you.”

“You don’t believe I’m only on my twelfth bloom either.”

“Ambrosia you have been on your twelfth for at least ten blooms.”

“I know! Don’t I just look lovely and youthful?” Ambrosia struck a pose which their florets mirrored. “Why, I dare say I don’t look a day over 10,000. But enough about me, how about things that actually matter. Art! Lovely art and craftsmanship and all the wonderful connections it brings.” When an affini moved, it was usually with rhythm. Subtle beats from venations, rustling of leaves, the flow of vines sliding over each other, all a soft beat of biological music that announced who they were along quiet tunes.

Ambrosia Granum had no such music. They were a ghost whose body flowed without beat or rhythm, long since silenced to the affini around them. It was a soft sort of psychological wall between affini to deny each other’s rhythm, and eerie when one lacked it entirely. As the ancient thing moved their body flowed in perfect quiet, and Solanum could not deny being a touch unnerved by it.

“Bee hold!” Ambrosia announced, their voice blissfully cutting off the silence of their body. They tore off the packaging on the first gift with a dramatic flourish, revealing the replica of her within. All of her threatening edges and thorns had been rendered in an adorable form, replaced with cloth and painted wooden bits. Pink-ish metal zipper trailed between cloth flowers over her chest, which Ambrosia happily demonstrated the functionality of while talking at length about the specifics of cloth types. Inside was enough space to store about a fist’s size worth of goods, while the interior was dyed with a thorny pattern to match the aesthetics of her stomach.

Truth be told most of Ambrosia’s words flew right past Solanum’s head. When the older affini’s excitement broiled over the sides their words slipped from an energetic ramble to a nonsensical blur of noise before culminating in another “Bee hold!” as they broke open the second package.


Streum’s eyes were blue. Ambrosia had even replicated the layered scarves and clothes they’d worn to protect against their world’s sands, underneath a replica of the warm overcoat they donned for the cold nights, with their fur delicately dyed and bleached to match the worn in patterns from the world’s winds staining their body.

Everything else faded away around Solanum as she stared down at the doll. She could almost picture them clearly again. All mottled fur with bright blue eyes gazing up at her. With a soft rumble to their voice that always purred in her presence, or spiked with satisfaction as her thorns dug into their sides. So entranced was she in her fading memories that Solanum didn’t notice the third gift open until Ambrosia placed the Autumn doll next to Solanum.

“How *is* your new canvas, by the way?” Ambrosia asked, at some point having perched themselves next to Solanum in all their rambling.

“She has a name.”

Ambrosia’s eyes flickered with dark blue dots. “They all do.” They said, their attention momentarily somewhere far far away before they snapped back to the affini at hand. “But how is she? Recovering well? She looked positively adorable when I finally got to meet her.”

“Well enough as one can expect given she asked for open surgery and is refusing to just be drugged out for a week or two to smooth over this part.” How many times had Ambrosia seen this played out? Resistant florets, giving florets, submissive ones, shattered souls… “She’ll be fine. Eventually.”

Ambrosia’s voice mellowed out into a hollow purr as they leaned over to look into Solanum’s eyes. “I can’t wait to see what you make of her. Do please promise to show me? I’ve missed your work.”

Solanum scoffed. “I doubt it’s truly anything unique to all that you’ve seen.”

Ambrosia’s eyes sharped into focus, body suddenly bristling with microscopic fibers of razor-like hairs. Right. The one thing that always did get to the old affini; art. “Nothing is unique in the grand scale of things, Solanum.” They insisted, their voice suddenly full of life for one rare occasion. All over again the ancient threads inside their body *pulsed* into a noisy and discordant rhythm. “Everything that’s ever been made can and will be done over and over and over again. It’s not the uniqueness that matters, it’s not even of value when we can just print a billion of anything in an instant, it’s the connections that people make with it and the memories forged that matter.”

The older affini’s body began to writhe to match the forceful and energetic tone of their words, body winding and unwinding in a chaotic splay of dulled colors. “So yes, I still want to see your work again. The loving care with which you approach the knife is a taste that no atomic compiler can replicate, and the stories of what and why are far more valuable than any ‘objective quality’ measure of a piece. Do you understand?”

“I do-” Solanum started, but Ambrosia thrust out a hand to grab her by the jaw and forcefully shut her mouth.

“It’s a yes or no question, Solanum.” They said, eyes suddenly focused into pure white dots against a jet black background. “I will not tolerate self negativity from children like you, that waste of emotional fuel only serves to staunch your cultural beauty. Do. You. Understand?”

Solanum was frozen in place under the sudden intensity of Ambrosia’s glare. At once their body had found it’s rhythm, and the music was a deathly pallor of empty sounds. All focused in on her. She wished she didn’t understand the cultural intricacies of such focus. She wished she didn’t feel the awkward nervousness at the lilt in Ambrosia’s voice from a life lived so long that any single floret accounted for less than a fraction of a percent. She desperately wanted to be horrifically intoxicated instead of having to face this with a sober mind.

Solanum nodded mutely.
“Wonderful!” Ambrosia snapped back, spiralling out of their seat into an unformed mess of plant matter before spilling back together into themselves again, coming back as a vaguely humanoid shape in a series of delirious spins. Their three florets meanwhile had already bundled up all the packaging and slipped it back into their bags, leaving the three dolls upon the table with nary a sign of scrap or residue of the previous flourishes. “Now, is there anything else you need?”

Solanum, still reeling from the brief but intense bout of focus from the other affini, spun listlessly through her mind. The only thing they could possibly need was- well, no, she didn’t have the will to ask *that* question yet. Not right now. Not with a loving lifetime with Autumn right at hand but even that would inevitably end one day wouldn’t it, and she didn’t want to lose all those memories why did it have to happen to her why-

“Have you forgotten florets before?” Solanum blurted out. 
Ambrosia froze in place mid-pirouette, body slowly cranking back down to a neutral if still stilted pose to face back towards Solanum. “Are you really ready to know the answer to that, little plant?” They asked, voice neutral.

Solanum answered just as instinctively as she had asked. “No, sorry, that was silly, nevermind.” She wasn’t ready to hear the worst case scenario. Not today. She wanted to believe that the memories would one day stop fading, that she wouldn’t be a flicker of a mind along an endless string of a life gone.

“Well when you’re ready you know where to find me. Now, if you don’t mind, it’s time to get back to the only thing that matters in this empty blasted universe. “ Ambrosia clapped twice, their florets ushering around their heels. “Come along, little ones! There’s ART to get back to!” Their body flowed into a quadrupedal form as they sauntered out of the room, one vine trailing behind to shut the front door after they left.

Solanum sat there in silence for a long moment before she quietly plucked the dolls from their place, holding Streum and Autumn close to her chest while trailing her own doll at her side. She’d ask another day. Probably. For now she needed to believe that the answer was that everything would stabilize in her head. Or at the very least she’d always remember enough of her past to not lose everything important to her. Please.

Stars damn it all she forgot to get a model of Pollyon why did she only recall that now?

The affini collapsed next to the sleeping form of her floret, tucking the plush doll of herself into Autumn’s arms. On sleeping instinct alone Autumn’s arm clutched it tightly to her side, voice making a satisfied purr before slipping back into a dazed snore. Uhg, what was she doing dwelling on those thoughts now anyway? She had this terran right now. She should just focus on the here and enjoy it while it lasts and- sod it, her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

Solanum quietly plucked her finger from Autumn’s mouth, eliciting a small whine of discontent from the human in the process. With the digit reattached she then gripped Autumn’s neck tightly, flexing only slightly as hollow needles sprung forth from her palm to dip into the prone terran’s flesh. Once more the taste of fresh blood met her body and pooled through her system. The rich warmth of life spilled a primal satisfaction into Solanum’s mind, bringing with it an all too familiar rush of sadistic satisfaction. She practically moaned at the taste, eyes shuttering between green and gold momentarily before she retracted her hand again. One set of vines took to tending to the new neck wounds, while another had already slithered about to grab a blood bag just in case. But for now, Solanum’s main body simply relaxed into Autumn’s side, now contented by a small snack.

She’d let the more visceral side of her mind take over, revelling in the bare carnality of the sensations that freshly slithered across her body with the meal. This was easier, for now. 

lmgo = laugh my grass off

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