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"So you're the one with the green thumb."
Ifalna had discovered rather early on in her life here that these people tended to avoid green things on some sort of principle. Vincent had assured her with a nonsensical analogy; their behavior had to do with their parents cramming broccoli down their throats, for their health, at an impressionable age.
The shrub she'd been tending at the time of the conversation had animatedly disapproved of the concept. Then she had never been able to take the shrub's views on Vincent without a grain of…salt, as the Professor would say. Since the shrub objected to every vibration out of Vincent's mouth. Subsequently, the Professor had informed her Vincent was "pulling her leg."
So Ifalna would have to assume if that was applicable in this sort of circumstance that Doctor Crescent hadn't come into the atrium to address her for reasons other than a conditioned loathing of broccoli. A rather silly notion, as the plants she dealt with were generally well-mannered.
"I wouldn't have expected that." Ifalna rested her chin against the table as she considered the Doctor's tone. "Hello Lu."
Interestingly enough, as the Professor would muse. The doctor's attention wasn't fixed on any one object in the room. She knew, as a rule, people would focus their attention on one object if they weren't there for admiration of the vegetation. Certainly, Ifalna wasn't expecting much attention for herself based on her previous experiences with the mansion's hierarchy.
Ifalna tilted her head, as she considered her current thought; the action gave a weight to the verbal silence in the room. The doctor was shifting her feet more than was common, even with her heels. People did act in a similar fashion if they were distressed. Ifalna cast the notion away as she surmised it didn't fit with the mystique Ifalna had learned to place with the Doctor.
"I doubt you were given any education on gardening and the library isn't equipped with books on the leisurely pursuits." The doctor's gaze settled almost on Ifalna, who in turn favored her with a cheery smile.
"So where did you learn how to tend such a diversity of plants?" She placed her hands on her hips and rested her eyes on Ifalna's nose. Her pert nose, as Vincent called it, currently covered in dirt. Ifalna considered the curious question was a genuine one, since she was fully dressed.
"They tell me." She chimed in quite happy to have decided to move past the one-sided angle of the conversation. She didn't raise her head, after all it wasn't as though the Doctor had the clearance required to interrogate a key subject in the Promise Land Project.
"I'm sure they know all about taking care of themselves." The Doctor stated as she leaned against the door frame with folded arms, eyes never shifting from their focus on Ifalna's nose. Ifalna gave an exaggerated nod to see if she could move the doctor's eyes to hers.
"You know what you want." That summed up all Ifalna knew about the doctor and a part of what she knew about plants. There were certainly some unfounded speculations forming, if she compared this encounter to their original one. They'd gotten along poorly up until the doctor realized exactly what Ifalna was to the Professor.
"So plants are similar to human infants in that they understand what their bodies need yet are unable to voice those necessities." Vincent would have found the irony in this quite amusing.
"Not at all," Ifalna tried to glance up at the Doctor from the position she'd lowered herself into, from her attempts to meet the woman's eyes. Balancing was never one of Ifalna's stronger skills. Her half crouch was a rather precarious one that wasn't a succeeding in it's intend purpose.
"It's like science." To Ifalna's bemusement the doctor covered her mouth and performed a wholly unladylike snicker. Impressive given how all the other scientist had a tendency to throw their head back and let out rumbling a full belly laugh when they felt amused. The gesture reminded her a bit of Vincent.
"Oh, I've heard the Professor's dreams before. Learning for the sake of knowledge," her eyes rolled, "practical application interferes with the purity of the pursuit. I don't need the scenery quoting Cosmo Canyon propaganda to me."
Ifalna shot up from her place nearly underneath the table. The dramatic effect came from Ifalna losing her footing but it worked well enough.
"Does my file imply I've any knowledge of…hippies?" Caught up in the moment she scrunched her nose up for the Doctor to see her displeasure. Vincent had implied on several occasions that people considered hippies to be on the lower scale of the social engine and it seemed to go along with the Doctor's intentions. It wasn't so much that Ifalna didn't like hippies, since people said the Professor was one. And Ifalna knew she liked him quite a bit.
"I don't believe my clearance makes it to your level." The smile was meant to be dangerous, for whom though Ifalna couldn't tell. Ifalna could see the smile was directed at her so she smiled in return.
"They can voice those needs quite easily." Ifalna rubbed the leaves of the shrub she'd been tending. "They also act on them in their own ways. I observe them."
"In an orthodox ways I'm sure." The invitation was accepted and Doctor Crescent entered the atrium.
"Most certainly," Maybe there was a bit of shared admiration for the flora in the room. Perhaps the Doctor's leisure activities touched on gardening also. Ifalna would appreciate sharing the garden with someone who could perceive it as she could. Plants couldn't see their own colors.
"I didn't come here to apologize for our introduction." Since it was more humiliating for the Doctor, Ifalna wouldn't have expected her to. "I still consider you the professor's whore—"
"And you'll remind me of it all the time." Ifalna dusted her hands off on her dress. The rumors didn't bother her nearly as much as they bothered a few of the other people she knew. Besides everyone's reactions were amusing enough to make it worth keeping the rumors going.
"True at the same time we're the only women who aren't techs in the facility. I find the male company here boorish, so—"
"Do you like broccoli?"
"I don't dislike it."
"Good I've always wanted to taste it but the plant refuses to tell me how to cook it."
"You do realize not all women are domestically inclined."
"What about you?"