[There's a young woman sitting on the floor of a still empty apartment. Doors to the balcony are open, the sun spilling over her and the floor in a long swatch of yellow. Zinc is sitting a bit inelegantly, legs sprawled under her haphazardly, but she doesn't really seem to notice.

She's busy fussing with the vine. She's not really sure how she knows it's begun recording. It's not a cellphone, it's a plant. There's no button to push, no light that starts flashing. She frowns, the sullen expression not changing as she begins to speak. Her cadence is rather slow, forming each word carefully.]

...perfume is not a necessity. [She stops touching the vine then, her gray hands coming together, wringing, fingers running over her wrists.] But I can't-- [She stops, lips pursing, shoulders hunching in self-consciously.]

If anyone has any, please.

[If not, she would make some with the magic dirt when she got around to collecting it. It didn't hurt to ask though, did it?]

[The Vine opens on a setting that is uncharacteristic of the Gardens. It appears to be a dimly lit laboratory. The walls are pale gray, with dark screens that flicker with green, displaying data that may or may not be meaningless. There is a low humming, from the lights or machinery. In the background, there is another sound--faint, but sharper and more disturbing: that of someone screaming.

The Vine is not here by accident or by its own design. It has been summoned by its friend Sephiroth, and it displays her helpfully, on command. In the gloom, the woman seems paler, and her glowing eyes brighter.]

A person has arrived here who has some connection with me. I have temporarily detained her, as it seemed likely she might be a danger to herself or the others here. I will release her as soon as I am satisfied that she is not.

[Yet this is not a purely informative transmission. There is another reason for it.] If there is anyone present who has experience in dealing with the mentally disturbed, I would appreciate your assistance.