04-08-2018, 04:11 PM
((Now I'M so sorry!))
Nika would have been mortified to learn she carried even the slightest hint of hydrocarbons. She did pride herself on good hygiene and in fact her mechanics were always giving her crap for wearing gloves when she was wrenching on something. Her reply was normally something sarcastic about their significant others’ having to be touched by dirty hands. Dumbasses.
The shop was amazing and she said so. The greenhouse was even better. Nika did appreciate an order to things and this was...felt...refreshing. Clean within reason, tidy. Nice. The assassin was impressed.
She let her gaze wander appreciatively among the rows of green in every shade. “Trees.” She said absently. “Mm...do you have trees that grow fruit too?” Hopefully that hadn’t come out as lame as it sounded after the fact in her head. She’d always thought fruit on trees was rather magical. Really. Because it all seemed so unlikely. A flower turning into a big-assed apple. Fanciful. The woman had always meant to visit an orchard, because she liked the order of the rows of trees...and even had looked into buying one at some point five or so years ago. Life distracts you though and with the weird climate in the last decade prices had shot up astronomically for any kind of farm-y type places of size. In truth her agent had been afraid the racer was wanting to retire and settle into #farmlife and had lied about the price. Nika had settled instead for a time lapse digital photowall of an orchard in the US State of Washington. It was in her den and every now and again she’d curl up in a chair with a book and stare at it as the seasons changed. Magic...but the good kind.
Nika smiled mischievously at her hostess for no outwardly apparent reason whatsoever. The woman was looking forward to visiting her den tonight. “Shopping without a list is also dangerous…” She laughed.
Nika would have been mortified to learn she carried even the slightest hint of hydrocarbons. She did pride herself on good hygiene and in fact her mechanics were always giving her crap for wearing gloves when she was wrenching on something. Her reply was normally something sarcastic about their significant others’ having to be touched by dirty hands. Dumbasses.
The shop was amazing and she said so. The greenhouse was even better. Nika did appreciate an order to things and this was...felt...refreshing. Clean within reason, tidy. Nice. The assassin was impressed.
She let her gaze wander appreciatively among the rows of green in every shade. “Trees.” She said absently. “Mm...do you have trees that grow fruit too?” Hopefully that hadn’t come out as lame as it sounded after the fact in her head. She’d always thought fruit on trees was rather magical. Really. Because it all seemed so unlikely. A flower turning into a big-assed apple. Fanciful. The woman had always meant to visit an orchard, because she liked the order of the rows of trees...and even had looked into buying one at some point five or so years ago. Life distracts you though and with the weird climate in the last decade prices had shot up astronomically for any kind of farm-y type places of size. In truth her agent had been afraid the racer was wanting to retire and settle into #farmlife and had lied about the price. Nika had settled instead for a time lapse digital photowall of an orchard in the US State of Washington. It was in her den and every now and again she’d curl up in a chair with a book and stare at it as the seasons changed. Magic...but the good kind.
Nika smiled mischievously at her hostess for no outwardly apparent reason whatsoever. The woman was looking forward to visiting her den tonight. “Shopping without a list is also dangerous…” She laughed.