Bri had been relatively quick in getting home, grabbing his bike (he hadn't needed it while looking around Elm Street, so he left it in front of the Spa and picked up afterwards) and booking it home. Well, he had his fruit, and he had some healthy stuff for Seymour, whatever it was. He hadn't opened it yet, and he didn't care to until he got home. Which was now, and he had entered his room quietly, pulling his key out of his door, shutting it and locking it behind him. He walked through the miniature entry way, kicking his shoes off onto a shoe shelf covered with other pairs, and made his way to his kitchen. He set the nectarines down on the counter, opened the bag, and set them in his wooden fruit bowl. Mm mm, they smelt /good/.

He threw the plastic bag away, turned, pulled out the paper back, pulled the food out of his and folded the paper bag. That item went into one of his kitchen drawers, to be used again for /something/. In one hand was the food, and the other was unbuttoning his shirt as he made his way to his room - where Seymour was. When he entered the room, he slipped out of his shirts, chest muscles flexing as he maneuvered out of it. Though he lacked in the face, for some, his body made up for it. The shirt was put into the dirty laundry basket and he walked over to the little table set up in front of the window, bending over.

"Heyla Seymour! Ah'm back, got out earleh. Ah stopped by th' groc'ry store ter pick up some'a'them nect'rines."

He nodded, smiling, and then showed the bag to Seymour.

"Dun' worreh! I didn' ferget 'bout chu, Ah also got sometin' that'd help yer droop'ness."

He opened it, smelling it, it smelt like herbs. The directions on the back said to add around the base, then water, and do that twice a day. He'd do it later tonight then, and afterwards, once when he got up, and once when he went to bed. Sounded good. He did as the instructions told him, only pausing once when he was pricked.

"Ow, dern it, Seymour! Why'd ya do that?"

But he didn't say anything else, finishing up and watering the cactus. Sniffing, setting the bag down, mumbling about how this better work. Not that he doubted the old lady, but really, thirty dollars for some plant medicine? It better damn well work. He was only willing to pay that much 'cause he loved Seymour. He was a good plant. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling his wallet out and setting it on the stand, then pulling out of them, and tossing those and then his underwear into his laundry basket.

"Ah'm gunna go take me a show'r...Ah'll be back in a jiffy.

His showers only took ten minutes, a long one did at least, and that's what he felt like taking at the moment, to just relax and get clean. He loved getting clean, hell, he loved getting wet period. Swimming was something treasure in fact. With a thought in being clean, he turned on the water, climbed on in when it was warm enough, and set to cleaning himself thoroughly.

Sally was upset.

No. Upset isn't the word, exactly. Dejected? Exasperated? No, no.

Ah.
Hopelessly Infuriated.
Perfect.

She had been this... /plant/ for months now. One mistake, ONE mistake, and she was here. A promising career in magic had awaited her, her parents were so proud... Did they even know where she was? Sally couldn't remember much right after her little accident.

Well, she had tried to make the best of it at first. See what she could feel out about her new form. A normal cactus doesn't really have conciousness you see, so she being a woman with a perfectly concious mind, she could do things the normal plant could not. For example, she could extend a needle or two out further than the rest by focusing. After much... much practice, she could sequence them so that she could move a little, her needles poking out on her sides like a funny crab, scuttling along.

Sally could also poke quite well. And by poke, I mean jab. Violently. She had tried to communicate with the man, but after many failed efforts, the jabbing came in handy to vent her frustration.

Unfortunatly, over the months, Sally had lost some of her spirit. Being a three inch desert plant can do that to you. It even showed in her form! Her needles were less sharp, her exterior less green. Her small, red flower was even drooping in a way that simply said, "Make it end."

As she was being lifted by the man... Bri, (or 'Broobroo' as she called him (to herself, of course). 'Broobroo' was a reference to his doggy-self... Ever seen Scooby-Doo? 'Broobroo!' Yeah. You get it. ) she poked him lightly, simply to amuse herself.

"Ow, dern it, Seymour! Why'd ya do that?"

Ha.

She watched him as he tended to her. 'Watching' was a very interesting concept in her form, considering she had no eyes. Or ears. Or... any animal sense at all. She had no real idea of what Broobroo looked like, but she could... well, /know/ things. It was like her plant self had a way of knowing things that she didn't. Odd, it was.

"Ah'm gunna go take me a show'r...Ah'll be back in a jiffy."

mmmhmm....

Sally felt the overly expensive plant food start to take effect. Her tiny roots did all the work without her thinking about it, like breathing when she was human. Feeling a little better, she extended her needles and skuttled along her way. Oh, the simple pleasures of being-

wait.
What?
No. No pleasure! She hated this. Sally would've screamed. She was going crazy in this form.

(( I am hopelessly in love with her x333 ))

As he had promised, he was in and out of the shower in roughly ten minutes. He towel dried himself in the shower, gave a little shake down, got out of the shower, hung towel up, and walked into his bedroom in his birthday suit. He was humming to himself, a lullaby that always got stuck in his head when he took showers, because when he was much younger, Mima would sing it when she gave him a bath. It's a habit, ya know?

"'Ey Seymour, guess wha'? Ah met someone to-day, 'is name is Shen. We met when 'e did this 'ere beaut'ful fall, an' sent 'is groc'rehs ev'where...'E seems t'be a mighty decent feller...'Opefulleh we'll-a meet in ther future, sometahm."

And then he went on to explain his day; about all the massages he had to give, about how he is sure Shirley is out to kill him. It didn't take long, he only said what needed to be said, simply making statements about what he deemed important. He was going through his dresser drawers, pulling out a pair of red, white, and yellow plaid boxer briefs, and getting in them pretty quickly. Then he tossed on a white wife beater - lordy how he hated that people called them that - and then, just 'cause his toes were feeling a little cold, a pair of white ankle socks. He walked over to Seymour, bending down and examining the cactus.

"Well hey now! Lookit chu! Yur already lookin' a bit more perkeh! Tha's wha' Ah'm talkin' about!"

He smiled at the cactus, chuckling slightly. So maybe those herbs were worth it.

(( I'm so glad! I'm rather taken with BrooBr- err... Bri, myself.))

Sally wished she knew what Broobroo looked like. She could hear him, more or less. Plants can hear, you know. Oh yes. She often scuttles her way to the desktop raido and turned it on in the long hours of the day, just to pass the time. But, his voice... well, it was so ... fascinating. Sally herself had no particular accent, just a voice (or she did) and those with accents were something that peaqued her interest.

Bri talked to her a lot. As much as she grudged, rather unfairly by the way, against him for not understanding her, she appriciated the fact he had taken her in. His life was normal... but good. He was pleasant, but fun.

His name for her, however was almost unbearable.

Seymour. Seymour!

...

why. why?

Not only was she a cactus... but, apparently, no longer female.

Sally extended a few needles hopefully. Maybe he would come close and get pricked. Yes, the food had been nice... but Seymour?!

I have a FLOWER on my head.. or.. top... uh...Gah! Don't you see, you stupid dog? I'm not a BOY!

And despite all laws of nature that normal plants follow, Sally the cacti let out a small, rather angry sounding squeek.

Mweiiiiiiiiiiik!

Sadly, he wasn't that close yet, and having been distracted by readjusting his boxer-briefs a little bit, he didn't see her prickles (as he calls them) move. As for the naming, well, in a way it was her fault; the grumpy vibe and tendency to poke him reminded him of his principal (he already told the cactus that story). He sniffed, raking his fingers through his damp hair pushing it out of his eyes. He had been leaning in to get a better look at her when all of a sudden, the most disturbing noise he had ever heard CAME FROM THE CACTUS.

Cue reflexes; doggy ears popping out, him giving a doggy yelp, and him jumping backwards about oh...ten feet? Clearing the distance all the way over his bed, where he had tripped, fallen backwards onto the bed, and the law of momentum carrying him across said bed, rolling backwards onto the floor with a very loud WHUMP.

His head popped up, dog ears standing straight up, eyes wide in disbelief. It was a shame Sally didn't have eyes, this picture would have been priceless for her. Slowly he crawled onto the bed, and then across it, stopping on top of it.

"S-Seymour?"

Poor bewildered puppy dog.

The cacti was silent.

Sally, to be honest, hadn't been aware she could make a peep.. let alone squeek. She had been almost as shocked at the man... well, maybe not that shocked.

Maybe now I have his attention...

Focusing, Sally waved her needles back and fourth, like a stranded child on a island, trying to signal a plane.

First it makes a noise, then it starts to, well...move. It was rather creepy. Scratch that it was just...what in the seven hells?! He inched forward, grabbing the longest object in his reach; turned out to be a comb. He slowly walked over to Seymour and poked the cactus with it.

"The...the hell?"

What was going on here?! Was it an affect of the herbs?!

Sally was excited. She had his attention!

She wasn't terribly happy for being poked, but if there was some way to talk to Broo- err, Bri, she was willing to take some abuse.

Which was saying a lot for Sally.

"Squiii!"

Bri happened to yelp and jump once again, but managed to stay in place this time, oogling the cactus. He looked around as if expecting someone there, then leaned forward, eyes wide.

"S-Seymour...? Wh-Wha' is it?"

It sounded like some sort of overly excited mouse, truthfully, like in the cartoons. What the HELL was up with his cactus?! And WHY was he talking to it?!

Probably because it was the only sane thing to do.

Now what?

She had his attention... but.. now he just thought she was a cacti from hell!


With a glimmer of an idea, Sally extended one needle as far as she could... down... down further to the table.

There, she scratched as accurately as she could one word:

H E L L O


Please please let this work!

...

The.

Hell.

Talk about not only have a squeaking cactus, but it WROTE TOO. Oh my gawd.

He couldn't even talk for the moment before finally swallowing thickly and shaking his head.

"Ngh...Ngh...H-Hello?"

Ho-ly SHIT it can write too!

"Uh...A-Are you a...a demon? Er...uhm...squeak if no?"

A demon?!

Sally pluckered up. She was no demon... despite what some ex-boyfriends might have said.

"Neiii Neiiiik!"

Two squeeks.

She concentrated on scratching another message:

I a girl

Not exactly proper english, but she wasn't exactly worried about that at the moment.

Two squeaks?

But it's erm...body movement seemed offended and he cocked his head blinking rapidly.

He watched the scratching - never mind the oak dresser she was writing on, he'll just fix that on up - this is far more important.

"Yer a GIRL?!"

Seymour doesn't exactly fit a girl, now does it.

"W-Well...What's yer name?"

Ooops.

"And Ah apologize 'bout th' whole...Seymour thing."

Awkward turtle.

S A L L Y

Sorry indeed! He should be, silly Puppy-boy.

Sally knew she shouldn't be in such a bad mood... but she couldn't help it. She was SICK of being a plant, and even though she had a way of talking to Broobroo now, her mood was still disgruntled as hell.

"S-Sally?"

Well...At least it started with the same letter?

"Erm...Nice ter meet ya, ma'am..."

He blinked rapidly. No doubt she couldn't write a long explanation of how she got in this form. She didn't write in any way that she wasn't possessing the plant, so...

"Am Ah right ter guess that you is, uhm...possessing mah plant? Jus' yes er no ma'am, Ah ain't havin' ya tire yerself out."

Grammar sometimes goes out the window when he is a bit nervous.

NO WAS ACIDENT

Sally was getting tired. She could feel her needles drooping. She needed to get him to call someone... a mage.. someone with some magical knowledge.

FIND MAGE HELP ME

That was all she could manage. Her extended needles drew back into her cacti body and she was plum tuckered out.

It was an accident? How can possession be an ACCIDENT?! He twitched, undeniably confused. And then she really sent him spiraling.

Find...Mage...Help...Me...

Well, couldn't be a name, so it was a person or something. Oddly enough, Bri dearling wasn't familiar with what a Mage was. Tell him a Wizard, sure he'll know, but he was never into fantasy, so he doesn't know the connection.

Pondering this odd term, he decides he'll have to do Internet research. He didn't have a computer of his own. Hence why he didn't give out an e-mail address to people. He mainly stuck to texting over his phone. And that was expensive enough.

So he'd either be going to the city library, or the one at the University. He doesn't even remember ever seeing a city library, so that'll take time to find it. But can non-students use the University computers? He'll have to find out SOMEhow.

"Uhm, Uhm, O-okay Sey-Sally! Ah'll do that...Po' thang mus' be tired...'Ere ya go..."

With that he put a little more water into her pot, despite him already have doing that, the soil seemed drier. Perhaps from her doing all that work? He smiled softly.

"You rest now an' Ah'll go find yer...Mage...'kay?"