Observation of a conversation with a floret.
Written for the Microfic Monday HDG Community Event. Prompt "Ferals and You."
Word Count: 991
"We can observe well on our own how the recesses of a pet's mind'll interact with the sounds they make, but there's quite a lot we can enjoy about simply watching two of them interact. A few days ago, my son got real excited when I told him all this and"—He laughs gently, rustling his draping vines— "he gone say some 'Daddy I'd be so good at your job, imma be cool and then they gonna be cool.' , but I'd told him like 'Baby they so new that they still got a feral mindset, they might say somethin' triggering to you.' and his sweet little self insisted. So today you all also get to see Osiris."
"When?"
"'Bout now."
Vines encircled a large, ornate wooden desk that sat at the front of the terran-style classroom. They ceremoniously pushed away the veils covering two portable terran-rooms entirely built of glass. Perfect for observation.
Dalbergia's vines slipped through various decorative cut-outs of the leftmost observation room, coiling around his son, Osiris. A black floret whose often seen asleep in the local park. He seems unusually energetic, though some of the attending first blooms might also know he's very sporty whenever he's awake. He's only wearing loose black shorts and thick golden boots that seem like they should be a little too big for his feet, and lots of golden jewelry. He's pressing his face against the glass, excitedly greeting the class who, in turn, are emphatically and enthusiastically greeting him back.
With the rightmost room, the professors vines keep a terran-acceptable distance from the feral inside. A clear display of a psychologically agreeable gesture for terrans hailing from this cultural enclave. This terran is also black, standing stiffly and looking around pointedly. It's clear to the attending first blooms that she's trying to put on an air of anger to choke away her incredible fear. She relaxes in seconds as golden blossoms open up along the edges of her room. She sits down and hugs her knees to her chest. Comfort-seeking to aid with stress hormones.
When Osiris sees the woman in the opposing room, he excitedly crawls over to the wall nearest to her and relaxes in a pile of pillows. Osiris, naturally, speaks very loudly, and it's very easy for him to be heard at a distance. "Yoo!! You're brand new!! what's up?"
Silence between them for several seconds. The woman's eyes are looking around, there will later be animated debates about what exactly she could be thinking about.
"So you got one of them things in your head?" She gestured to the back of her head.
"Supposedly, It's not really like I can verify. Y'know I really like your voice."
"Okaay…? I don't know you like that."
Osiris laughed, "Yeah me neither. What if we like, became friends? Then you'd know me like that. But like I sleep a lot so—"
She cut him off, "Oh my fucking god okay one second," and held up a finger to Osiris to glare at Dalbergia. A gesture for Osiris to stop talking, which he technically obeys while devolving into giggling. She continues, "I'm not talkin' a your drugged up lil pet or whatever."
Dalbergia started to respond, but was cut off by Osiris, "Bro hasn't tried beer that cant make you puke."
"Nigga ain't no one talkin' to you!" She snapped.
"But like what about the weed that makes all food taste really really good."
She glared at Dalbergia, but the professor was occupied with visibly restraining his laughter.
"So y'all just here to make fun of me?"
"Nah I'm not fuckin with you. Hey actually, what's your name? Imma hit you up later, we finna post up at Mama Mandi's and smoke a bunch of joints, then we gonna eat like half the menu and it's gonna be awesome."
There's another stretch of silence. She seems to understand that this conversation was going to happen regardless of her participation. She sighs heavily.
"What they got there?"
"Yoo okay they got," Osiris holds up his little hands to count off menu items, "Waffles, biscuits and gravy, really fuckin fire hashbrowns and chicken, then uhh…they also got the biggest jumbo shrimp I've ever seen in my whole goddamn life, uhh.."
She was nodding, smiling now, "Alright, okay, yeah that kinda sounds good. My names Trey."
Osiris smiles excitedly, his attention seems very focused on her now, "Name's Osiris. I like your name, Trey."
"That's weird…" Trey attempted to respond with a sort of shame-inducing inflection, but deflated a little too fast to pull it off.
"Why? I ain't heard no one say that before."
Trey shrugged.
"Do you like your name?" Osiris tilted his head.
Trey sighed again. "Nevermind, don't even worry about it."
"Hey ain't no one worried bout nothin but you, now c'mon what's up? I'll call you any name you want. I chose my name and it fucks."
A stretch of silence. Trey looks uncomfortable, but responded anyways, "Nah. Cause like—my names Treiana though so like, you just kinda sounded like you—"
"You wanna know something nice about your voice?"
"Wh"—Trey sighed with irritation—"Sure."
"It'd sound even better if it came from your chest. Like if it was deeper."
There's another long stretch of silence. Trey seems like he wants to back away from Osiris.
"Nah I'm not tryna end up fuckin like—tch—nah, nahh, I'm not tryna be owned like a damn dog, you need to be quiet."
"I think you should keep on talkin. You hungry? Let's get sumna' eat."
Another long stretch of silence.
"They got some real nice cushy booths we could lay back in, really chill." Osiris shifted to lay with his legs held apart.
Trey nodded slowly, now looking down shyly.
Dalbergia addressed the class in Magnoliophyta-dialect Affini, "There's many adorable ways for a terran to seek out both food and intimacy. It's incredible how perfectly built they are to be led into pethood."
