There used to be a rosebush in front of my uncle’s porch, by the steps, that had earned the titel of Killer Mutant Attack Rosebush. We roached it back, cut it off flush with the ground, dumped any number of things on it to try and poison it, and the fucker would always grow back as big or bigger than before, and the thorns it carried were =wicked= sharp and hooked at the points. It finally succumbed to being roached back and dug out from under the porch slab and the roots yanked out.
It had a sibling at the other end of the porch that was just as hard to kill, and was dealt with in a similar fashion. The only difference is that a tiny bit of it seems to have survived, and every year we get a rose shoot growing out of the tree/bush/whatsit thing that needs to be dug out and killed mercilessly.
It sounds less like you killed it, and more like you evicted it. It could be out there to this day… slowly growing towards you. Flowers spelling out “Why?” and your name…
Given Pickle’s opinion of Fae until her encounter with the problem princess, I doubt she could be talked down by one of them. Maybe something was used to pacify her?
So there is the method behind Sphinx madness… She was not trying to harm Castela, or make her less curious. She was answering a bigger more pressing question that was springing to her teenage mind as Castela discovered her “powers”.
Moral of the story: Castela may have a strange origin story, but she decided not a weapon long ago.
always watching after her <3
You looked after her then, Castela, just as you’re trying to help her now.
You’re the best sister Atsali could hope for.
Any bets that this will trigger Castela’s own memories that she has repressed.
They’ve been together longer than either of them realize.
Do Not Taunt Happy Fun Rosebush.
X°D
…I’m only half-joking.
There used to be a rosebush in front of my uncle’s porch, by the steps, that had earned the titel of Killer Mutant Attack Rosebush. We roached it back, cut it off flush with the ground, dumped any number of things on it to try and poison it, and the fucker would always grow back as big or bigger than before, and the thorns it carried were =wicked= sharp and hooked at the points. It finally succumbed to being roached back and dug out from under the porch slab and the roots yanked out.
It had a sibling at the other end of the porch that was just as hard to kill, and was dealt with in a similar fashion. The only difference is that a tiny bit of it seems to have survived, and every year we get a rose shoot growing out of the tree/bush/whatsit thing that needs to be dug out and killed mercilessly.
It sounds less like you killed it, and more like you evicted it. It could be out there to this day… slowly growing towards you. Flowers spelling out “Why?” and your name…
Feed me Seymore.
Let me just get you Mr Butts, no one will miss him
those three vines at head, middle, and feet seem very…stinger-ish. I wonder how long it took to convince lil pickle that she could stop protecting….
well, considering one of the agents was a Fae (Foxglove), I’d probably wager that she talked Pickle down. Anyone else would probably get mulched…
Given Pickle’s opinion of Fae until her encounter with the problem princess, I doubt she could be talked down by one of them. Maybe something was used to pacify her?
Pickle’s problem with the Fae didn’t come until later.
Maybe eventually she fell asleep herself and regressed back to her normal form.
You are her sister where else would be?
Do not approach the guardian Castela or her charge without announcing yourself. Otherwise you WILL be mulched.
Lil Pickle Root has been protecting her older ‘sister’ since before she could remember
So there is the method behind Sphinx madness… She was not trying to harm Castela, or make her less curious. She was answering a bigger more pressing question that was springing to her teenage mind as Castela discovered her “powers”.
Moral of the story: Castela may have a strange origin story, but she decided not a weapon long ago.
Your comment has triggered a thought from ‘the Iron Giant’,
“You Don’t Have to be a Gun”…
“Soo-o-o-perman-n-!”
…and even if you decide to be a gun, you don’t have to let evil people tell you who to kill.
The difference between a weapon possessed of intelligence and an intelligence possessed of a weapon . . .*
*borrowed from Alan Dean Foster’s Sentenced to Prism.