|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Nov 25, 2012 9:31 pm
Malodore's Garden [Elderberry] [Aloe] [Evening Primrose] [Neem] [Feverfew] [Licorice] [Chamomile] [Bilberry] [Ginkgo] [Thyme] [Valerian] [Goldenseal] The plague doctor had planned out its garden on paper first, carefully weighing its options and shuffling its choice of plants and the order of their planting around several times before deciding on a final plan. Roughly, the first row would contain plants beneficial to the flesh; the second, plants beneficial to the gut. The third, plants beneficial to the breath - perhaps an odd study for an undead, but breathing was quite important to some people. So. It planted the tiny seeds, sprigs, and leaves with care, depending on the type of plan, carefully dipping any non-seed samples into a re-rooting agent before tucking them mostly into the earth. Really, the greenhouse was rather soothing when you weren't fighting for your life! And the plants did smell rather nice, as if even their scent might hold some medical virtue. It had heard of the art of aromatherapy... Well. That was a concern for another time. It gently tore a piece of paper out of its notebook, then neatly labeled each row so that it would remember which plant was which. The plantings looked a bit different from each other, but it would have to keep careful watch and care for them each individually, it was sure. Before it left the greenhouse, it carefully circled the planter, putting a bit of water in each section and tucking a crumb of fertilizer in where it felt it would do the most good.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Nov 25, 2012 9:32 pm
Day Two
The plague doctor came in that morning, carefully leaving Luce outside - the little pup had followed it all the way from its dormitory, but she could not be permitted within. Instead, she sat outside and gave Malodore sad looks through the glass, her warm breath fogging up the glass. The sacrifices it had to make for science...
There was no obvious new growth, it felt, though it dutifully measured the plantings and noted their height in its notebook before administering a bit more water to each one. The pumpkin sun shone brightly through the greenhouse roof, bathing everything in a warm but diffuse light. It had only to settle down and begin reading aloud from one of its favorite medical texts.
For inspiration, si? It had always heard that plants grew better when spoken to.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2012 4:20 pm
Day Three
Malodore was beginning to think that most plants were rather... well, not boring, but rather... unenthusiastic. At least compared to plants like, say, Steve. (It glanced around after thinking the name, just in case it knew. Thankfully, nothing happened.)
Still, the plague doctor dutifully measured the plantings, finding no change from the day before. Patience was part of the doctor's art, of course; healing accelerated too rapidly would be less effective in the long run, and might even cause additional damage. Each plant got its duly allotted amount of water and fertilizer, followed by a bit of light reading. Patience, yes.
Though perhaps it would wait a few more days before taking another set of measurements.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2012 4:25 pm
Day Six
Malodore had visited the greenhouse briefly each day, making sure all was well and giving the plants care, but it wasn't until a few days later that it took another set of measurements. And there was growth! Not much, to be sure, but enough to be... well, measurable. It bent down and peered carefully at the chamomile, which had a most soothing scent. Some of the plants would have to grow quite large indeed; the ginkgo, in fact, was actually a tree. Though there were plenty of miniature trees in the greenhouse, they seemed impractical and certainly low-yield. Hm.
The thyme, too, had a gentle scent that Malodore appreciated, inhaling specially for the occasion. The routine of watering and feeding had become a habit by now, though its notebook seemed slim in terms of actual contents. There wasn't really much to say, but it tried to sketch the seedlings in the margins before finishing for the day.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2012 4:28 pm
Day Twelve
The Aloe had produced a few additional leaves, and thus became the first target of Malodore's experiments. Carefully, it sliced away the smallest leaf with surgical precision, rolling the fuzzy yet oddly firm leaf between its fingers. The plant seemed possessed of an ichor, something more viscous than the sap of the other plants, a sort of natural tincture. The plague doctor instinctively felt that the aloe's power would be woefully inadequate to most ailments of the undead, whose flesh conditions were legendarily and even proudly foul, but it... smelled nice?
Hopefully it would learn to unleash the true strength of the plants in time, through proper preparation and more complete growth. It duly wrote down the properties of the aloe and its observations.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Nov 27, 2012 4:32 pm
Day Twenty-Two
The chamomile had produced enough leaf and bud that Malodore felt safe in taking a bit for its own uses, tying a bit of twine over a twig and hanging the sprig from it. Many plants seemed to be dried before use, the drying process concentrating the beneficial properties of the plant and making it more effective.
It meant yet more waiting, of course. Evidently, the proper thing to do with the chamomile, if one were not simply inhaling its scent, was to make a tea from it. That method had been easy enough to discover. The others... well, it still wasn't sure what to do with the tiny, woody stalk of the ginkgo, whose few budding leaves were surprisingly shaped. The licorice's root was difficult to measure, given it would have to uproot the entire thing to get at the root, and it was leery of doing so too soon and thus killing the plant without being able to harvest it properly.
Still, the garden was off to a good start, it felt. It ran its hand gently over the tops of the plants, careful not to break or bruise anything. Calder would be proud. Hopefully Cricket would feel similarly...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
