We lay our scene within an unremarkable bureaucratic office aboard the Residentiary Ecostation Pulmonaria Virens. Seated before one of the office’s many service counters, a terran floret waits patiently for assistance. She is dressed well; her companion dress immaculately tailored, and wrinkle free. Her posture is perfect, back straight, head high. An amiable smile rests upon her face, the sort of passive, carefree smile that many a floret wears. It’s a smile that says: ‘concepts such as stress and anxiety are so foreign to me I’d likely be unable to even imagine feeling them.’ She displays her collar proudly, keeping her chin up. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap; her legs kick idly in the air as she awaits assistance. The only thing about her which is not neat and tidy to an immaculate degree is her hair, which has clearly been ruffled and mussed by a bout of affection from her owner. She seems to wear that with pride as well. Against a far wall, a soft ding plays, and an affini emerges from an adjoining room, ready to assist her.

“Hello, little one!” They cheer, delighted at the sight of her, “I’m sorry for making you wait. My name is Paprika Bell, Eighth Bloom: They/Them. We don’t get many florets here, how may I help you?” 

The floret gives a radiant smile. "Hello Mx Bell! My name is Rayne Dendra, First Floret: She/Her. I’m here because I need a copy of form ab-2315-df-43-b." Her every word seems perfectly chosen and enunciated, while her speech flows naturally and casually. 

Paprika, however, seems taken aback. They cock their head, though maintain their sweet, if slightly condescending smile. "Form ab-2315-df-43-b hmm? May I ask where your owner is, dear?"

Unrestrained glee seems to ignite behind Rayne’s eyes as her smile somehow widens even further at the mere mention of her owner. "She's over there!" Rayne turns, and gestures to an affini standing in the corner of the office. This particular affini is, to put it lightly, the exact opposite of her pet in every way. Where Rayne is prim, proper and neat, her owner resembles a bag of wet mulch with vines sticking out, one which has been molded into a vaguely human shape by a 14 foot tall, and very poorly made cookie cutter. The affini in question appears to be rather occupied at the moment, namely because the vines where one of her feet would normally be are stuck in the wheels of an office chair. Nevertheless, the floret gazes on at her owner with a look of dopey, dreamy adoration plastered over her face. ".....wow," she says, heaving a heavy sigh. 

"Little one?" Paprika calls.

Rayne perks up, and whirls around, "Oh, sorry Mx Bell! I just got lost looking at her. She's just so pretty!" 

"Uh-huh,” Paprika murmurs, tone flat. “And um… you said she's your owner?" The disbelief is hard to mask

"Yep!” Rayne beams, making no effort to hide the pride bursting from her every orifice. “Can I have that form now?"

"Well,” Paprika stammers. “The thing is, little one, I need her to request it"

Unphased, Rayne just nods eagerly. "Okay!” she chirps. “Mistress? Can you come help me please?" 

Hearing her pet call for her, the affini perks up, glances over, gives a nod and a sheepish wave. With her vines still caught in the wheels of her chair, the affini proceeds to drag herself, and the chair, across the room. For several seconds, the only sound in the room is that of jammed wheels skidding against tile. Rayne looks on, that same look of adoration plain on her face. ".... wow just... She’s incredible, Mx. Bell. Just look at the way she moves. So graceful. So enchanting. So… hypnotic..." her eyes glaze over and jaw begins to go slack, but as her owner arrives, Rayne perks up, and swirls around to face Paprika. 

"Uh, hey, sorry,” mumbles her owner. “I'm little Rayne’s Mistress: Azalea Dendra, First Bloom. Can she have a copy of whatever form it was that she just asked for?"

Paprika blinks, glancing between the pair. "You mean form ab-2315-df-43-b?"

Azalea shrugs, and scratches her head, somehow getting herself even more tangled within the chair's wheels in the process. "Uhhh... yeah. Sure, if that's what my floret said."

“Right,” Paprika begins. "It’s just, I can't give it to her, it needs to be filled out by an affini."

A bead of sweat forms on Azalea’s face and she begins looking around frantically, before stammering out a nervous: "...O-oh. Can she—uh. C-can she help???" 

Increasingly baffled, Paprika manages a nod. "Well....yeah. I suppose?" 

Relief blooms across Azalea’s face, and she practically unravels as she slumps back into the same chair currently entangling her. "Oh thank The Everbloom,” she sighs, then pauses, and looks back up at Paprika. “Uhh... by the way... what does this form do again?"

Paprika crosses her breaking point. She sets a mental reminder to schedule a reblooming later. In the meantime, she replies in a monotone, exhausted voice: "it's a form requesting that we grant your floret the authority to fill out paperwork on your beha--you know what? I'll just approve it."

Pure amazement crosses Raynes face as she practically leaps from her chair in delight. "Wow! Mistress! You're soo amazing!” she cries. “You convinced them without even needing to fill out the form! You're such a smooth talker..."

A casual chuckle sounds from within Azalea 's vines as she leans back in her chair, a confident smirk on her face. "Thank you, my love. Now let's get me untangled from these wheels." In that very instant, Azalea leans too far, and tips over backwards.