username: slim shady
name: alyce
gender: female
what do they think of flowers/what do flowers mean to them?
alyce breathed deeply, the heavy, acrid scent of flowers emanating from her pocket. the tropical scent disguised the lingering smell of ruin. the city around her crumbled, smoke rising from somewhere in the distance, stray dogs slinking through alleys and digging for the few scraps that kalon survivors had skipped over. months ago, an unbelievably swift plague swept through the city of archan. like no other plague,
it caused mutations in the living. some were immune, like alyce, others killed by the disease, and more so finding that they'd developed strange appearances or abilities when the sickness made its way through their system.
now, those who remain choose to group together for safety,
or, like alyce, chose solidarity instead. trees and plants, it seemed, we're mostly killed off, only a few saplings left. in her pockets, alyce was overflowing with snippets from surviving flora. she kicked at rubble as she slipped into a narrow side street before squeezing into a slim opening where a door had been partially knocked off of its hinges. padding silently up the dusty stairs in her boots, alyce emerged on the roof, where glass walls surrounded her and humidity made her hair frizz. greenery was abundant here, in her greenhouse sanctuary. kneeling beside a row of small pots, she scooped a small dip of soil away and tucked the flowers and other various plant clippings into the hole.
ever since the plague, alyce had been dutifully finding whatever plants she could, and taking them back the the greenhouse. the building that she resided in used to be the home of an italian restaurant that grew it's own tomatoes and other herbs - some remained, and, along with fruit trees and vegetables, alyce was able to mainly survive off of her plants.
so, what do plants mean to her, you ask? they mean a new beginning, the survival of a race of peoples, a way for her to live without stealing from others. her plants mean hope.