his dorm is ~covered~ in plants. the windowsill can’t be seen under all the foliage. his roommate is ready to strangle both him and his plants because each time he opens the door, the ivy and spider plants hanging there still scare him
no one besides chowder will ever drink out of his water bottle because there are always mint or basil leaves floating around in it or petals. dex once accidentally drank out of it and gagged for ten minutes yelling to the heavens about how nursey tried to kill him
he’s been late to class twice now because when leaving the cafe he notices the petunias are sad and need cleaning done and he can’t ignore their cries for help any longer
when writing, nursey reads it aloud to his plants to catch mistakes. if he feels they’re judging him he either changes what he thinks they don’t like or blames geraniums for being too uppity
he starts drying herbs in the haus kitchen for his own personal use in spells and for bitty to use as he pleases
when he, chowder, and dex had to make a trip to Home Depot for dryer parts, nursey ends up leaving with an armful of sad looking houseplants because they need tending loving care and he neeeeeds to save them. dex ends up with them on his lap the ride back
he checks with his mom weekly about the plants that were too big to bring to school with him. he’s proud that his palm grew four more inches since he left, but he’s a little upset he isn’t getting to see his baby grow in person
when one of the Home Depot plants dies, smh hosts a funeral where nursey reads a poem about the poor, innocent orchid before they add it to the compost pile out back nursey started a few months ago
every time someone asks what his favorite plant or flower is he changes his answer. holster is keeping a list. it’s at sixteen different ones now
when they’re all studying on the quad or the beach or even the hair porch, nursey spends more time making leaf and flower crowns than studying. last time his maple leaf crown was so impressive dex wore it the whole time without grumbling. lardo still had the pictures
“… find you guilty of improper behavior. We expect your answer to these charges at the High Tide Reception next month during the
full moon. Yours in evil…”
The lich finished reading the letter of complaint as Atticus popped its neck into place, relieving a tremendous and uncomfortable pressure. “This note, Atticus! I can’t believe they sent this!”
“Spoil? Monsters?” Atticus mumbled to himself, repeating a passage.
“This is perfect, Atty!” a lake nymph cooed the next morning as the villain finished shampooing, deep conditioning, and styling her hair. He tied it back into two buns, using strands of kelp he had found in a far away sea. The unusual coloring complimented the nymph’s hairstyle and outfit perfectly.
“You seem a bit distracted, are you alright?” a forest spirit asked that afternoon as Atticus helped her gather autumnal leaves, sorting them by shape and color into organized piles. “Don’t eat those,” he chided gently after confessing his troubles, “or at least don’t eat all of them, we need a good blend if you want me to finish up these leaf crowns.”
“Do I spoil monsters?”
“Do I spoil monsters?” Atticus asked an undead waitress as she set down a plate that night. He hadn’t specified his order, he didn’t need to. Waffles, buttermilk, ectoplasm on the side, slightly overcooked. Coffee, void. Side of rotten fruit. Root beer float, grave dust flavor, as dessert, but only after his meal was finished and he had reached the second page of his newspaper. “Yes,” the waitress kissed his cheek, “and we spoil you, too.”
“It is a good thing, Atty,” a mermaid chimed the next morning as she and the villain watched the sun rise and various ships pull into the port. She handed him a storm in a bottle. “Are you a neutral party or do you work to serve monstrous interests?” She eyed the council’s ship with open hatred.
“I’ve been serving monstrous interests my entire life.”
“And why is spoiling us bad, anyway? Have you needs we are not meeting? Do we not love you as you love us?” The mermaid gently stroked his stubbled cheek.
The villain smiled, opened the bottle, and unleashed the maelstrom on the port. He laid his head on the mermaid’s shoulder and together they watched the destruction unfold.