Hey, Hikari! I got that cord of my ankle, and well, I was thinking of going flying nowish. You want to watch?

I knew I shouldn't have bothered. It's the same as last time. Why did I expect this library to be updated with more books as time passed? Not even helpful ones like recipe books or guides on how to raise a flower. That last one would be rather nice at this time.

I can only complain about this for so long... it would be nice if our needs were actually met.

[Alice stalls on talking for a moment, but not long enough for the vine to go away, but then she speaks up again.]

A complaint box would be nice, actually. If it was used. I wonder what I would write... 'Alice Margatroid is displeased by the lack of appropriate material to get by in her life'? Or perhaps something a little more blunt like 'This place sucks, make it suck less.'

[If you would like to know a secret, Jackie has gone back to the library again, has yet to take it upon herself to explore any further than that, and there is still a red string attached to her ankle. As such, she's eaten minimally, and if you thought she was a cranky bitch before, you are in for a treat.]

I refuse to talk to any cats, [Then she adds under her breath, surprisingly viciously considering the topic,] or fucking foxes for that matter.

Can I, or can I not, find anything resembling coffee in this God-forsaken 'paradise'.

[it's the wide, upward sweep of an arm that brings the Vine to life, the mirror showing a woman in a plain brown cloak, holding a wooden staff. She's standing before--well, it seems like it's trying to be a building. Instead it looks more like someone took a book on architecture, chewed it up and spit it out in a messy wad.]

[the front door looks like it belongs to a rustic log cabin, complete with a plain dirt path set with stones leading up to it. The "garden" in front looks more like a zen sand and stone garden than anything, complete with miniature trees in wide clay dishes.]

[the rest of the house is nearly impossible to sort out. Windows, shingles and walls from all different eras overlapping and mixed together. An almost triangular protrusion sticking out of the side of the roof made entirely of glass, supported halfway by what looks like the trunk of a tree; a pair of carved marble columns holding up the ceiling over a tiled room with a small fountain at the center, open to the air; a brick chimney; a round stone tower with a peaked roof sticking up from the back right corner. All and all, it looks like it might fall apart any minute. But it holds.]

[the woman taps her fingers against her staff thoughtfully.]


Well. That's interesting.

[There are two voices, speaking in a low murmurs. One voice rises over the other, and now you can hear the last of a conversation:]

--no damn leads. This better work--

[The voice is clearer now. It sounds Australian-accented, and a little confused.]

Come on, you stupid plant. The scroll said you're supposed to help. [A beat, and the voice gains an irritated edge.] Now, I've been real patient and understanding so far. Wouldn't press my luck if I were you.

[and the video flicks on. The woman is standing in front of the mirror, and there is the barest flicker of surprise on her face before she calms down.] Well, isn't that something. Magic if I've ever seen it. Can't believe I'm talking to a damn plant.

[She straightens up, just slightly. Her body language is relaxed, almost lazy. But there is a heavy, dangerous-looking spear strapped to her back, and her easy, confident smirk doesn't quite reach her eyes.] Not much in the mood for introductions, so let me get straight to the point. I don't know who or what thought it was a good idea to send me and Vanille here, but whoever it is, I'm gonna make sure they regret it, and soon. We haven't got time to waste here.