Sixth sense run amuck
| Sundays were always hit or miss for Isla. They could either be the most relaxing day of the week for her, or the literal worst. Today didn't feel like it fell on either end of the spectrum for one reason or another. Most of the day she spent at home, relaxing with Nate and the baby and soaking up her free time with her family. She had her phone on do not disturb the majority of the day and spent hour stealing kisses and affection from Nate at any given opportunity. These were the days she lived for, even if there was minor chaos that ensued. |
When she felt a little stir crazy, Isla learned to step aside and find a place that made her happy. Their yard was coming along, even if it wasn't as big as she had wanted and didn't have the space to do what she wanted to do with it. Whenever she needed to step out and absorb sunlight to feel better, she found herself puttering away in the afternoon. When she felt better, she'd go back in, find her way to Nate and steal more kisses when he allowed it. The only time she didn't annoy him or attach herself to him was when he was cooking. Since she had zero culinary prowess, she strayed from the kitchen. These were the moments she lived for, watching him cook as she stood back. Seeing him do something she thought he genuinely enjoyed. The small flowers in her blond hair bloomed in hues of pink and white and she smiled.
After dinner, Isla insisted that she clean up, not wanting him to do more work than he had already put in. From the window above the sink, she let her outside plants through to help her clean up, vines holding dishes as she sprayed them with the water. Another thick rope of vine entertained Bellamy off to the side as she sang to him and the plants happily. The house came alive as if Molly Weasley was using magic to keep it going, but it was just Isla and her small army of plant children.
There weren't many things that would be considered happy moments. Not when the likes of people either died by his bare hands or the utter disruption further drew up the tally in how corrupted the man had became. The learning curve reset to something more domesticated these days and that was the idea the outside world needed to know despite the truth to some of that dripping down the walls along with the other stories he had quickly fixed to expel when the time came for it. Nathan was content or driven up the wall if it weren't for the insistent buzzing he heard from every surface marked by the electronics in their home or from the outside sources. Be it his own physiology playing it's tricks with sensitivities not many understood or the extra sauce of annoyance of every second controlling the link with integrated circuitry and their data streamed components.
What did seem to calm those things down was hogging up the space in the kitchen after rummaging through think bound cookbooks to make the perfect dinner. It was an on and off all day affair between preparations of sauces and treating the star of the dish with delicate care just as much as those same bare hands carried his son or touched his wife. Luckily enough he thought steadily, shimmering hope on concentrating directly with the tasks at hand. During the down moments while still close to the stove or lounging against the counter space, he exchanged those same extent of affection or entertaining a kid who didn't mind assisted walking when not trying to terrorize the cat.
After the work both his bare hands and mind tooling in tandem, gathering at the table in a casual way made for the conclusion of it all. He needed a cigarette but was banned from taking one in the house. Just as he was excusing himself to handle the simple pleasure, clean up left with the woman of the house, he escaped to his second place of solitude where no one or thing seemed to bother him. The garage was a getaway of sorts when not left to resorting to the extremes of a stash house outside of the city and so on. He took the match, flicking it across the back of the book and immediately inhaled after the first light. Inhaling enough carcinogens would do him well as its impurities would be stomped out by the mechanics of the body's invulnerability to toxins. As a creature of habit, it was better than running into trouble. There was much to be desired though as he stood there surrounded by cigarette smoke and catching through a six sense of assumed danger before the help of vines entered the home. His cue sent fire beneath his feet to rush from one part of the property to the next, forgetting the past talks of a new home, just to instinctively resist a flora home invasion.
"'Till now I always got by on my own, I never really cared until I met you..." Isla was singing to Bellamy as he giggled and gurgled and made all sorts of noise sitting in his bouncer as she cleaned up. One agile vine that had slid through the window was pushing the baby back and forth, keeping him mobile and busy while the others helped Isla along. "And now it chills me to the bone. How do I get you alone?" she sang, unable to think of anything better. Despite knowing she should have been singing educational songs, or something better suited for his age group, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
A vine took a plate from her and loaded it into the dishwasher. Isla caressed it gently, thanking the vine before it slid away and grabbed another. This happened over and over again until all of the dishes were loaded and Isla was able to start the dishwasher. Things moved so much quicker when she had a few extra hands at her side. Still humming away, forgetting the rest of the words to the song, she rinsed the sink and sprayed the vines. They shook as gleefully as plants could and wrapped around her lovingly, as if to give her a hug.
"You babies are the best," she cooed flowers blooming on the shaft of the vines wherever her hands touched. She couldn't wait to bring more of her work home, knowing once she had grown the plant nannies to full size, she would to only have places for Bellamy to sit and play under their watchful eyes, but she could surround herself with them when she needed the care. Moving to her son, she picked him up, cooing at him lovingly. She held his hand over the vine, petting it as if it were the most fragile thing he'd ever touch. While his hand produced no flowers in its wake, hers continued to and she made sure Bellamy got to experience it. "Someday you'll be able to do this too," she said, making false promises. "You'll be able to grow life just like this."
His innate need to secure the perimeter was following in his cigarette dusty trail while pushing on most of the adrenaline that spiked high. The cranial pulses driven to keep him goal oriented and in this case to tear a vine by its stalk, Nathan hustled up the proper steps to seek through the sliding glass door that was access through the kitchen. One good eye followed the curling vines that had a life of its own and his chest was deeply squeezed while reacting more than anything despite a rational side of him knew of its origin. Whenever the flora, sentient in nature followed commands commonly imposed by his wife's hand, hives etched across his skin. It was fleeting but not that feeling of fight once the kid was involved.
What he saw a moment ago never reflected what he indeed heard. The babbling of happy incoherent words were mistaken for screams of distress. The quieter he approached after the sudden dash only lessened his wayward approached once the door rashly was slid open. He stepped through, chest barely heaving through controlled breaths but his eyes seemed shoot open as wide as it did looking between Isla speaking future actions of their kid into existence and the little person more beguiled by a plant that he couldn't begin to comprehend. He gave little credit in the moment but all that Nathan saw was red flags everywhere, including the binding capable vines freely into their home as if it were a part of the family.
"What the fuck is this?" He rose his voice a notch more than usual, lifting his hand to point in showcase. Wildly holding all of them within his singular view was going to prove more than a challenge than it already was but he was rearing in overdrive to the point that all muscles in him tensed up, with the cigarette still dangling from his mouth no less.
Isla had gotten so used to using her powers freely and letting them be a part of her daily life while she tried to coexist with Ivy that she never thought about how jarring it could be to someone if they walked in on her baby talking a set of thick vines. She and the baby were entranced in growing flowers on the happy plant. It sat just outside the window in a big pot, a normal plant by any unsuspecting visitors that didn't know their ficus from their forehead. The last thing she had expected was her husband bursting through the doors.
The immediate alarm of him coming through the doors must have seemed like an immediate threat to the plant, for a vine whipped past her to slap the cigarette from Nathan's lips before immediately retreating. It hovered over her shoulder and she rolled her eyes. "No smoking inside," she hissed as a reminder to him. She turned to the plant and whispered for it to go back out, the flowers immediately wilting as it slithered its way back through the window and out of sight. Bellamy wiggled and whined, so Isla set him back down in his bouncer and before she knew it, he was bouncing around.
"Great. You scared away the help," she said, a fair bit of amusement in her voice as she looked at him, hands resting on her hips.
His reaction to dodge the vine whipping the dangling cigarette from his mouth was late. All for trying to assess wildly what everyone and thing was up to. His chest was reaching to burst at the extra work his heart was doing and just to hear and see the difference of a small out of place premonition tug at his worst fears to paint an alternate picture, shave his tolerance with the vegetation down again. One clear eye narrowed. Squinting at Isla, that damn vine retracting, and softening up at their kid bouncing about in his bouncer. He slowly kneeled to pick up the cigarette and cautiously stepped to the sink to kill it before another mishap but before getting there, the tip of his finger and thumb snuffed out any active embers.
"Me scared that thing away? I thought it was trying to hurt the kid!" A first in a very long time he was ever as animated him his pursuit of trying to batten down the hatches so to speak. Technicalities put the residence in his wife's name but this was his home as much as she said it to be, especially being one to keep up in maintenance and such but the fact remained that his discomfort with live vines was brimming at the surface despite requesting assistance not too long ago when it came to their son being watched. He inhaled drastically and could have collapsed in a chair or the floor for all he knew, while feeling as if his chest was tightening again. It could've been a bad reaction or a symptom of something else entirely but revealing it's source while everything else was driven his rapidly moving thoughts, he blamed it on anxiety.
Perhaps the cigarette's toxins trying to burrow within his system and that actively blocking with its immunity while going into fight or flight at the idea of a foreign entity having easy access to harm their young unsuspecting child. Distrust was the culprit and his stone cold typical expression or being expressionless was none while eying her generously with dilated fear.
An easy way to see what mood she was in was to watch the flowers that bloomed in her hair. The seedlings that lived there showed her emotion almost as clearly as her saying she was happy, upset or mad. The flowers that were there began to wilt and thorns took their places. She pulled a face at Nate, one brow raised and her arms crossed across her chest. "Hurt the kid?" She repeated back to him, almost mockingly. "You wanted a plant nanny! This is basically no different!" She gestured toward the window, the vines hovering outside of it like a nosy teenager waiting to see if it were getting in trouble. Isla shook her head and it stalked back to its pot. "I understand your concern, Nate, but you should know me by now."
Isla could talk to, understand, and control pretty much any plant. These plants were in her care, and therefore they were a part of her family and also caretakers. They helped her while she helped them. "Every plant in this house is alive and I can make them do whatever I want. They are of no threat to us, and especially not Bellamy. They're here to take care of all of us."
She tried to soften, but for some reason she wasn't able to. It was like watching him get upset at something their kid did. She frowned and went back to cleaning the kitchen. "You're lucky all she did was go for the cigarette. I'd hate to see you taken out at the knees." Her voice was full of a weird mixture of anger and disappointment. Maybe she didn't think it was worth the fight, since he would lose and she would have her plants whether he liked it or not. Or maybe she was a little hurt at him thinking she would put their son at danger. If it was okay for him to be around it while she was at work, how was it different when they were at home?
Explaining to what gotten into him was hard enough as his vitals were still hovering above his head. High and out of reach, trying to calm down he couldn’t fumble out any words to counter the truth. Brows were wiped with the back of his hand. Needing that cigarette now. Needing it quickly but he faced the sink to hunker down and leaning over it. Eyeing the plant through the window, narrowing hits eyes long enough that he had a new enemy living right under their noses. “Take care of us?!” He spun around fast enough including to follow where the foot steps of Isla went around that kitchen. “It’s not here to take care of us. As much influence you so call have, not everything is controllable. Sentient beings can end up moving to their own tune and one that leaves no backdoor to be toyed with for an access route unless completely destroyed in the most messiest way possible.” A mouthful was said and he hung back long enough to begin pacing. Almost in a frantic way as it took a while for his brain to dial back a false threat.
There were times that his senses of a sixth perception weren’t reliable and it was discernable at times where he required that form of insight the most. Just a bad time overall for the premonition in its short state to wildly show up as the complete opposite occurred. He scoffed at any talk of being taken out let alone becoming one of her project's victims. He felt threatened by it alone while in the same breath making the mistake of underestimating being outnumbered. He rivaled up against others who placed highest in value of strength, skill, and brains but that didn’t make him less than what he felt in that moment. “You didn’t see what the fuck I saw. Just a small enough glimpse and you to would want to shake this whole place down if you for a second thought Bell was in trouble, even by the help.” There was an obvious sign of being uncomfortable but that was less to do with the mighty vines and other plants and more to do with the volatile status of his entire system.