Who: Poppy Keo aka Adamantea aka our lady of gardens
Where: Counseling Office, Greenhouse, generally around
When: Post-Nethermere May
What: Getting things back to normal, and working with a new pairing.
Warnings: None

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Closed: Moon Knight, backdated to the 15th

She sends her message when she knows Marc is fronting, because as terrified as Marc is of her he's still going to be more tractable than Steven's denial.

"Hey," she says on the communicator feed, as unthreateningly-calm-cottagecore as she can get. Gone is her radiance from the days after the Nethermere, replaced with a young woman wearing a flower crown of freshly-picked dandelions, a floral sundress, and a hoodie. If it wasn't for the rock in her chest and the way her eyes catch the light, she could be some random college girl. "We should probably talk before I even think about doing any warden-y things."

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Spam

After the Nethermere, after days of helping use her own magic to heal some of the Barge's injuries, Adamantea... goes back to normal, mostly, inasmuch as she has a 'normal'. She's an unobtrusive and consistent and pleasant presence, she's always in the counseling office somehow if you might have wanted her to be there, but she spends a substantial amount of time in the greenhouse working on regrowing and recreating the plants that were destroyed entirely or damaged too badly to regrow.

Sometimes she's a young woman kneeling barefoot in the dirt, long hair contained in a chunky braid, overalls threaded with iridescent embroidery: butterflies, flowers, all sorts of designs. Sometimes this isn't entirely true: the greenery leans towards her, loves her, adores her; on these occasions -- most common immediately after the Nethermere, but not entirely gone in the weeks to come -- her ears and neck glitter with delicate filigree, a riot of live delicate blooms can be found in her hair, and her delicate skirts somehow never tear or stain. During the latter occasions she is the lady of gardens more than she is Poppy Keo: different facets for different purposes. The lady of gardens is a goddess of sanctuary and safety, myth and fable, forest and meadow. It comes a little easier this way, and it's nice to be something a little more familiar for a few hours every now and again.

Regardless of facet: the greenhouse supervisors have long cared about these plants, and that emotional stain on the place they once were lets her coax seeds into sprouting or even coax seeds into existence, if need be. She does all her best work from feelings.

She's not in the greenhouse with any particular pattern of hours or duration. She's just there, and she's there a lot.