Well, that’s pretty much more of Succulents and Spells. It’s quick, doesn’t really go anywhere (huge), and is a fun little read.
On the plus side, I like seeing more of Marigold as the primary point of view. It’s a bit weird to swap, but I think I like her more than Laurel. Perhaps it’s because she’s just coming into the magical world?
On the downside… the (a?) big bad is maginanotech bugs. And there’s really no justification for nanotech just existing in this world. I generally only like one real ‘give’ to a story and this is a bit much. Especially when it could totally just be magical and that would be fine. Even magical bioengineering would be better.
Such is life.
It’s cute and if you liked the first, you’ll probably like this. I’m curious what in the world is next…
Notes (potential spoilers):
“It is possible,” Laurel admitted. “So what exactly does this snail slime do? And don’t you have enough research projects?” Marigold laughed. “Have you met me? No such thing as too many research projects.
Yeah… I feel that one. So many projects.
The play was, as Laurel had anticipated, one of Marigold’s ‘weird ones’. What could she say–it was part of the Fringe so not unexpected, and maybe Marigold just wasn’t into realism. It didn’t interest her, didn’t make her brain work. The point of art was to move away from the real. If you were going to focus on reality why on earth wouldn’t you be doing science instead?
An interesting way of looking at it. I think I prefer realistic but not real. Surreal? Fantastic?
They’d never become friends, but there was a comfort in their shared rhythms. “How are your bacteria?” “They’re still single-celled organisms with a simple internal structure. How are your Protozoa?” “Still single-celled Eukaryotes that feed on organic matter.” The exchange hadn’t been funny the first five, ten, or fifty times, but at some point after that, it had tipped over into absurdity, and they had both laughed. They laughed today too, setting themselves up, getting to work, not even mentioning their looming deadlines.
Sounds funny to me. I like repetition turned humor though.
Back home, though, after going through a new set of literature about antibiotic use, Marigold’s thoughts were back with the succulents. She knew she couldn’t deal with this alone. This wasn’t a natural infestation–or even just a supernatural one. Closer examination had confirmed what Marigold already knew: they were not living creatures but tiny machines, nanobots that had been programmed to act in a particular way. Someone had done this deliberately.
Well that’s one step further than I expected. Interesting.
Mary-Ann, that was who. Marigold jabbed at the phone number beneath her name. She was going to have to use her least favourite form of technology. She picked up her phone and dialled the number, trying to plan ahead of time what to say, trying to keep calm.
And now, with a few tweaks, she had a fully functional plant-destroying-nanobot detector. Progress was being made.
Not an every day sort of sentence, that.
“I know you can’t drink. I’m gay and a nerd but I’m not completely clueless about the ways of normal people. This isn’t just a mocktail, it has lemongrass for strength and nurturing and ginger to prevent nausea. Oh and plenty of sugar so it actually tastes good.”
As she’d said, Memory could stay only an hour, and Marigold found herself energised and delighted to see her, but even that intense hour or so left her exhausted. She hated that it was like this–she wasn’t shy, wasn’t even an introvert as most people understood it, she was innately social, loved spending time with people, it just… took so much out of her.
People are exhausting yo. I don’t know how extroverts do it. Besides by g extroverted I suppose.