Blood For Begonias

[Elizabeth]

“Good evening, my name is Traci. Welcome to Infatuation. Is there something I can help you with tonight?” Her bubbly voice caught Elizabeth's attention the second she walked inside the store. It was easy to see why the woman was so easily spotted; at most there were five total in the entire store; one being Traci. Another an employee at the register, placing guarders on a velvet cardboard holder.

“I...do not know. One has not been here before. I have not been here before.” She corrected herself with a small smile, eyes taking in the store. Her eyes went to the lights above their heads, then dropped when the blonde telepath found them uncomfortable to look upon. “I have an...event this month.” Elizabeth stated, slowly moving with the woman, deeper inside the shop. “I need a dress. For an...opera. I am afraid that it is a bit out of my standard daily routine-or even yearly routine.”

“I see. We have an both an excellent and wide variety of evening gowns that would suit an opera. Are you planning on matching your date? What's his colour scheme?” Traci asked, coming to a slow stop. Elizabeth's eyes doubles to the size of saucers, before she shook her head. “It is not a date. At least, I do not believe so. It was just an invitation.” Traci looked at her, skepticism plain on her facial features. “Honey, if a man-or woman; pro whatever you want to be in that aspect, is spending that sort of money...it's a date.” She smiled at Elizabeth, before moving to the longer dresses. “Their colour?”

“I know not. Black, primarily. I assume.” She tipped her head, looking past the colours Elizabeth was not interested in wearing for the evening. “We are just friends.” Elizabeth clarified, her voice firm, but soft. “Whatever you say, honey.” Traci hummed a song, while she looked through a rack. “You're a size...six?” Elizabeth nodded her head, and added in, “That is what the labels inside most dresses say, yes. Once in a while, a number four. It depends on the designer, I have been told” The telepath walked away from the woman and started looking at the dresses, going through them one at a time on the rack.

­“Perhaps, something blue, or black. Elegant, yet bold. I do not desire something flashy, such as gold, silver, or red.” There was a sound of hangers squeaking as a few items were put back on the rack. “I can find a few things for you to try on. If you'd like, you can step into the dressing room and I can keep browsing for you? It's a slow night.” Traci confessed, before Elizabeth nodded and grabbed the dresses that Traci had already found for her to try on. A black gown, and a sky blue coloured dress. That one deserved a wrinkle from her nose, as Elizabeth disappeared into the changing room.

Elizabeth opted for the blue one first, just to try it on, appease the saleswoman and inform her that this would not be the one. And she did just that. The black was agreeable enough, but a little too long. A frown crossed Elizabeth's features, before Traci interjected with, “We can hem just about any material.” This caused Elizabeth to raise a brow-knowing that claim was far from true. “That worries me not, what worries me is how long it would take one to hem the dress. Time is running out.” She could hem the dress herself, if Elizabeth spent most of the weekend on it.

“When is the...not date?” Traci asked as she handed Elizabeth another dress, before asking her to spin around, so that Traci could unzip the dress the petite blonde was currently in. “I...do not know. I suspect soon, as it was arranged for this month and the days remaining are getting smaller and smaller. Does one think either of these could be hemmed this weekend?” Elizabeth held up the offered dress, the more dramatic of the two she just tried on, only to hear no reply from Traci.

“You know...I love a sale, as much as the next girl in this place. The commission isn't bad. At all. But, female to female...don't you think it's strange that you're calling it an 'event,' or 'not a date,' and he or she hasn't told you when the not a date is? Have they called you lately? Text you? Even email?” All three questions received a short shake of Elizabeth's head, before the woman nodded. “Like I said, not my place, but if it smells like ****, it probably is...****.”

“No. I know him. He would not make plans and then not carry through with them. If he has to cancel, then so be it, but he would inform me of such.” Elizabeth pulled the new dress off the hanger, closed the door to the dressing room and tried it on in silence. She was thinking. Second guessing her words. If had been some time since they had conversed. The last time in which that happened, Doc had tried to motivate Elizabeth to a life of politics. She was not interested...and Doc stopped talking to her. Traci, could very well be right. “It fits. A little long, but I believe I can hem it in time.” Elizabeth called over the door, before slipping out of it, and passing it through a large crack in the door. “I would like that one.” Traci looked at the tag, then at a half naked Elizabeth, and asked with profound certainty...”Are you sure this is the one you want? It's very expensive.” Traci was ready to offer one of the cheaper dresses, so that she would not have to deal with a potential return of an upset client this week, but Elizabeth did not give her the opportuity to express that final thought.

“If I wished for this sort of conversation, I would have asked Elise to stay longer!” She snarled at the woman, slamming her hard against the outer wall of the changing room. “I did not ask for your opinions or thoughts. Charles, will be taking me to the opera, as he intended to-as friends.” The dress Elizabeth thought she wanted was snatched from the saleswoman's hands, and thrust to the floor, before Elizabeth started choking the woman to death. “You would have done well to hold your tongue tonight.” The truth was, Elizabeth was having her doubts as well, but had not expressed such a thing. Traci had brought it to the surface and not, it was going to cost the woman her life.

Elizabeth did not stop, even when she heard the siren's approaching and covering the store. She only stopped when the woman was limp in her arms, and her eyes had rolled to the back of her heads, displaying only the whites of her eyes. The dress, too rumpled now, was dismissed, as Elizabeth moved around inside the store that was now vacant but dancing with blue and red flashing lights. Fingers reached out for another dress by a whim, before Elizabeth headed to the dressing room to clean up her 'mess.' The body was teleported to the back door of her tower, before Elizabeth was on the front step of the building made of white. She hummed an upbeat and familiar song while the woman entered, before setting off for her penthouse within. The dress would be hung, the body collected, and chopped into smaller pieces, before she went on with hemming the dress she stole from the dress boutique.

[Elizabeth]

More days and nights passed and there was still no absolute. No certainties.
Elizabeth had analyzed what was said from the lips of the saleswoman at the boutique a few evenings ago. Logistics, partnered with facts had been weighed.

Plans, to see an Opera, had been made almost two months ago. Yet, no specific date. A vague mention at best. There was approximately two weeks left within the month. Precisely thirteen days. Yet, no other definitive information was shared. Would they arrive to the location through different means? Were they supposed to wear matching colors, as Traci suggested? Some sort of 'rule'? Virtually, no planning had been made. No confirmed date. No specific time for a specific date. No travel arrangements.

“One thinks they are so smart, but who is the one with their head still?” Elizabeth chided to the wildflowers of dark blue, purple and white salvia wildflowers. She cackled gleefully, before sighing. Her dark blue eyes narrowed upon the head that had been stuffed between the thickness of the growth that overran the west side of the rooftop gardens. “Mayhaps one was right.” Elizabeth slowly concluded as she toiled the earth and placed the bulbs of the Tiarella cordifolia wildflower in the dirt she displaced while the Telepath woman thought about logistics.

A new thought came to mind as Elizabeth covered the bulb in dirt. Perhaps, she had misunderstood the context of Charles' suggestion. He had asked if she liked the Opera, and gave a vague reference point, but that did not mean that he had acquired the tickets. Or perhaps he had changed his mind. Elizabeth had suggested that others had joined them. Perhaps others had taken her place. The blonde woman was aware that Charles' had an affection of sorts for a woman, and that she may in return have the same affections. The pair of them spending time alone may not bode well for the other telepath woman. Which was understandable, Elizabeth conceded. An excuse or definitive answer could still be given by Charles. That was, if purchasing have even been done for the event by now. It seemed unlikely, since no date had been agreed upon, or set.

Logistics, were useful in ascertaining the position and likely outcome of this scenario and along with Charles, himself. The facts and what little data was gathered or known, indicated that there would be no further advancements. Meaning there would be no Opera plans, and that the friendship had been terminated for whatever reason. It was...disappointing, but not unexpected. “Silence says much...does it not?” Elizabeth tipped her head to look at the chalky head that stared lifelessly at her. A few moments later, a nod came to be, followed by an, “Indeed.” Then, she laughed. “At least one of us has a good head, between the pair of us, Traci.”

[Elizabeth]

There was the vaguely familiar scent of decay upon the gardens of the roof as Elizabeth exited the elevator to the top floor. Her eyes glanced over to the begonias, knowing all too well where the smell was coming from. Berry took off yipping in that very direction, as if knowing something was not right either, yipping and yapping away, while burrowing her paws into the garden bed of the begonias. “Shoooo!” Elizabeth said with a laugh, chasing the tiny puppy away from the spot, before inhaling, then whistling for the dog to follow after her to the shed.

Shovels and dirt were needed for everyone's sake. Not just her's, or to prevent Berry from getting her paws dirty, but for everyone who ventured on top of the roof. Two ten pound bags were lugged into a double wheelbarrel, followed by a shovel, before the blonde haired telepath pushed it over to the beautiful array of Begonias. Once she was besides them, the barrel was set down and the shovel was gathered in both hands. Elizabeth moved to where Traci's head had been buried, unburried it and set the discoloured head on the wooden spike that had been labeled 'begonias,' half way down.

It seemed a kind gesture, as if the woman was sharing her knowledge of flowers with those within her bloodline, or family, but it could not be the furthest thing from the truth. The spike was needed for their 'conversations,' and was a wonderful resting point for Elizabeth's height. Right at eye level. “Very nice of thee to join me, this evening.” Elizabeth's blue hues narrowed at the sight of Traci, not due to the singular worm that had made its appearance known by inching its way out of her right ear, but annoyed at the woman's presence, entirely. Still, there were conversations to be had. The shovel found the earth within the bed of flowers, so that Elizabeth could get to work.

“I just wished to thank thee for the choice of dress. I was able to alter it quite easily, and I found the material to be quite nice. You had a wonderful eye as a saleswoman.” She moved back to the barrel, opened the plastic bags one by one, and dumped their contents into the green coloured basin of the barrel. “I am most certain that they will miss that about thee.” Elizabeth clicked at the puppy that made her way back around to do an investigative search of the area, in hopes of getting what Elizabeth would assume was a bone from Traci. But, her garden needed every single shred of the woman, and so, Berry would not be afforded the special treat she seemed keen on digging for.

Very slowly, the bed of the Begonias was built up with the soil from the barrell, as Elizabeth continued her conversation with part of Traci. “While one may have been right about that, I shall have thee know that you were very wrong about the other thing. It was not what one suggested. 'Twas not a date.” She nodded her head, a smug smile upon her features. In public, the woman never liked to boast about being right, but in some things...she minded not. These, were one of those rare moments.

“But...I would not have objected to the notion. If such a thing would have came up. However, I am very well aware of how things are and...are just, not. Between us women.” Elizabeth winked at the chalky, dirt stained head of Traci, before patting the earth with the back of her shovel. After a few more pats, she moved to the head, plucked it off the wooden stake and then made a 'shhh,' sound between her lips. “But, tell no one...” She cackled, before shoving the head back in the hole in the ground, then covered that too. “I know you won't.” She patted the ground much harder than the other times, as if burying the secret so far into the ground, so that no one would find out about Elizabeth's little secret.