Mum's the Word [Heng - Winona]

For a while, Winona wasn’t even acknowledging her surroundings, just staring at her knees. Jeez, she’d intended on clearing her head, not making everything worse. It was always like this ‘round the end of the year for her, and this year was no different. She should’ve just stayed inside and gotten a big bottle of wine to wait out the winter.

"You uh.. are blocking the er, pa-"

The first thought that came to her mind was that there were thousands of ‘mums that this palooka could pick around her. The second was wondering how someone managed to walk to the exact same spot she was sitting. The third was that she was already sitting there and that she’d tell this rube that she didn’t quite intend on getting up yet. “I’m sorry, but there are plenty more chrysan—“she started to retort, looking up at whoever this person was—and quickly shutting her mouth. Oops, it was Heng.

Futz. She really didn’t mind Heng—she actually kinda liked him—and that was a teensy bit ruder than he deserved. Oh, and she was crying. She quickly swiped her tears away with her hand before attempting to speak again. She didn’t cry in public. “O-oh, I’m sorry, Heng,” she said in a softer tone of voice, plastering a small smile on her face, “I d-didn’t realize I was blocking traffic.” She chuckled lightly, pushing herself to a stand, and brushing off her legs.

She looked the soldier over, eyes landing on the jar in his hands. Somewhat hoping to defer any comments about her tears, she quickly asked, “What’s up with the jar of ‘mums? Grabbing some back-ups?” she mused, hands resting on her hips.

‘Miss Winona.’ Ah, he was so polite! Winona offered him an honest smile back, listening intently as he spoke about his tea. She didn’t expect the fella to be a tea connoisseur (nor did she expect anyone else to be), but it sounded pretty darb. And then he cracked that terrible pun. She chuckled lightly, although it was a terribly corny joke. “Chrysanthemum tea sounds the bee’s knees; I’ve never considered using ‘em for anything other than transport.” She said, imagining the taste of such a tea. “It hasn’t opened any portals in your stomach though, has it?” she added, trying to interject a joke of her own. An equally bad one.

...Though that would be interesting; portal making tea. It’d make eating large quantities easier. Heh, but she assumed not. “In all seriousness, that sounds very fascinating. Any chance a gal could get a taste?” She asked, “I can help you finish picking~” she somewhat sang the end of the sentence. Hm, maybe she could occupy her time with him. They didn’t talk much last time they met, and he seemed like an interesting guy--If a bit quiet. It was definitely better than moping about.

She eyed his hand, and took it, pulling herself up.

((So sorry for the tiny reply!! ;v; ))

((Hhhhh no problem! Hopefully we can get out longer replies later;;; ))

Ahhh, good! Winona’d get to taste some tea, and do something interesting with her day. “Thank you very much, Heng~” She hummed, and promptly went to picking a few of the orange blooms, cradling them in her other arm. She paused to look one of them over closely, eyeing its many petals. It was nice to find another purpose to these troublesome flowers, she felt. There were thousands of them, so using them outside of their intended purpose seemed totally fine. And tea was a very nice use.

Continuing to pick the blossoms, she decided to try and offer up some conversation. “So when’d you decide to get into brewing tea? Life got a little too mundane?” She prodded, standing up, and displaying the chrysanthemums in her arms for the soldier to see. Was she pushing this tea thing a bit much? Eh, she didn’t know much about actually creating it. Her expertise was music, makeup and liquor. And it seemed to be something he could probably talk a lot about.

As the big guy spoke, Winona listened earnestly, finding his story rather fascinating. ...If only because she never really talked to soldiers. Her question almost sounded ignorant after he explained it, but either way, the knowledge was nice. She almost wanted to ask why the chrysanthemum tea was a luxury, but she thought better of it. No need to bring up any upsetting memories, right? She walked closely behind Heng as he went, waving at the gardeners as well.

” after I became a soldier of- .... Apprentice of Death,”

Winona hesitated for a moment, playing those few words back in her head. Was he going to say ‘soldier of Death’? Was that how he saw it? That was...An interesting take on it. She’d always viewed this horrid job as indentured servitude...never as an army...More like unwilling pawns. She crossed her arms tightly, the thought suddenly dragging down her mood. Heng had definitely been here longer than her, right? How long had he not been able to ascend?

--Hell no, she wasn’t going down that rabbit trail. Not right now. Noticing they were at the edge of the garden, she finally spoke. “That was...a really sweet story, Heng. I didn’t know it had that much meaning to you.” She said, smiling up at the guy, and bringing her arms back to her sides. “I’m sure your recipe is fantastic~”

She almost felt as if she should let loose some of her history, having prodded Heng so much. “...Your turn; anything you want to ask me?” She offered, a hand resting on her hip.

Ahh, something she could talk about for hours! She did love to talk about the happier parts of her life, even if it wasn’t as interesting as being a soldier. Winona nodded, hands clasped in front of her. “Mhm, I’m a singer~” She started, deciding what part to begin with. “I started singing when I was young; nothing award winning, of course. But I loved to express myself with my voice, y’know? If I could make Daddy and mama smile after a hard day of work, or my brother cheer up after facing the world, I was happy. It was my way of giving back after they worked so hard to give us a good standard of living.”

“And then when Jazz came around, I found my niche, what made me feel special! It gave me the best job of my life—“ She paused, realizing she was maybe...saying a bit too much to someone she’d just met. He was so, well, chill. “A-anyways, when I...arrived here, I found a job singing here too. It keeps me going, especially after Reaping: getting those emotions out singing instead of gettin' drunk, heh." Not that she could get drunk anymore anyways, even if she wished she could sometimes. Eugh. "I oughta invite you to a show one day."

She eyed the building ahead of them, thinking about his other question. "Now, a funny story..." she grinned as she thought about a story to tell. She didn't have that many worth telling, but... "Ah! My older brother, Jerome was playing with some of the older boys in our neighborhood when we were kids. And those boys were obnoxious, like little boys tend to be. Well, they dared him to get honey out of this beehive that had shown up on one of the older apartments. I told him over and over again not to mess with that dang hive, but little hardheaded Jerome was determined not to chicken out, and to show he wasn't scared of bees. So, he got a chair, stood on it, and started to dig in the beehive. Only, it wasn't a beehive. It was a wasps nest." She started chuckling at this point, starting to become a cackle.

"S-so he scrammed as fast as he could to escape those darned wasps, with me cackling right behind him! He got chewed out by mama, but I was laughing the entire time. He was...screwy back then, but it became a rather fond memory for the both of us. It may not be very funny to others, but..." She trailed off, her laughter subsiding. Memories about Jerome were...bittersweet, and it was clear on her face. She wasn't about to let herself cry. "W-We're here, right? I can't wait to see your process!"