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It's a beautiful evening, and up on the third storey of Goodman and Leiber's stately facade the paneled doors are open and out on the balcony there's a Mree taking a break from his work to bask in the long rays of the red-setting sun and enjoy a cool, crisp coca cola. I'm sure they'd be less than happy for his endorsement, anti-mutant sentiment being what it is, but he loves the stuff— perhaps it's the invigorating infusion of CO2 into his vitals that has him hooked. He's got a lawn chair out there, a rickety old thing that contrasts with the stately visage of the place, and he'd got his feet up on the railing, bare white-green toes wiggling at the sunlight while his tail wraps vine-like around one of the posts. He's not new to the neighborhood; perhaps the people in the surrounding building have gotten used to him overlooking the street. Or else he's just high up enough that nobody's really paying attention to the boy getting his photosynthesis on up there, and looking contented as a kitten on a windowsill to be doing so.
*
Dressed in his suit, from a day full of work, and carrying a briefcase at his side, the ginger-headed and bearded Doctor Binx makes his way through Brooklyn. He's just had a home visit with a patient and now is on his way to get something to eat when…well, that's strange. He's accustomed to sensing plants within a certain radius. And he's gotten pretty good at differentiating between the types of plants without seeing them. But this is different. It's a plant but…it's like no plant he's ever sensed before.
He starts walking toward where he senses the plant. The closer he gets, the more he starts looking up and around all the buildings near him. Where is this plant? His curiosity has overridden everything else at this point. It's just so unusual!
*
The curling green loop of tail around the balustrade might be the first glimpse of likely plantlife, once Binx is standing right on up against the front door of the law firm in question. Mree himself doesn't greatly mind a visitor; people come and go from the firm all of the time, and so the approach doesn't strike him as too odd, he merely gazes down from his lounging spot, tipping back the slender glass bottle of fuzzy drink, and quietly watches the visitor, getting more and more curious about the fellow the longer he hangs around the front without going inside. Finally, deciding to try to be helpful, "We're Goodman and Lieber," he calls down— she calls down? The voice is distinctly ambiguous in gender, sweet and mild in timbre, even lifted as it is to be able to carry. "Is this the place you're looking for?"
*
Looking up from his state of confusion at the front door, Binx stares at Mree for a good few seconds. "I…" He frowns, looking around for a moment before looking back up at Mree. "To be honest," He calls up, "I'm not exactly sure what I'm looking for!" He knows what he's searching for is coming from somewhere around here. "Could I umm…there a chance I could come up there briefly?"
*
"Uh," Mree doesn't like to say no to a person, but this person sounds confused, and, besides, "It's just offices up here on the third floor, not really open to the public," he explains, a slow twist of apology wound into his words, "But if you go in and talk to one of the secretaries I'm sure you could make an appointment to talk to an attorney." He leans forward, stands up and rests his elbows on the railing as he looks down, his long hair bound back into a loose ponytail behind him. His tail begins to unwind from the pillar it's grabbed onto, deferring to his new position, but grudgingly, slothfully, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on cement.
*
"I uh…well, I'm not in need of a…" Wait, did Binx just actually see what he thought he saw? And if it has to do with what he's sensing, "Please wait up there! I'm going to be right up!" Yes. The psychiatrist is on a mission. A mission that won't let him rest until he's discovered what he's searching for.
It takes him a couple minutes, but he's finally made his way to the third floor. Managing to talk his way toward the balcony, he finds himself looking at Mree. Curiosity and wonder are written all over his face. "Brilliant!" He murmurs. "Absolutely fantastic!" After a moment, Binx reaches out a hand and chuckles, "Excuse my staring. I'm Robert Binx. Most people just call me Binx."
*
"Ah— b— hmm," Mree gives up trying to object when the gentleman with the briefcase goes inside. It's really not his call, after all. But he should probably get back to work, and the sun's sinking behind the buildings and making staying outside less rapturous. So he's sitting down on his lawn chair and, having set his empty coke bottle into a tin bucket he has up here for the purpose, he's wedging his fancy office shoes back onto his bare feet when he's surprised by the actual arrival of Mr. Binx on the balcony. The enthusiastic ejaculations are cause for a wide-eyed look of wonder on his own part, but he's used to being stared at, honestly, and he just offers a permissive smile. "It's OK. Lots of people do. I'm Mree. People just call me Mree," he jokes, since he only has the one and only name. He takes Robert's hand and allows him to shake it, rather than really doing any shaking, himself. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Binx. Did you find the help you needed, or— are you just here to admire the tail?" he kind of jests, drawing it up to arc behind him and then wind into a fern-like coil, the tip fluffy with that white down that frequents it in the late days of summer when he's at his floweriest.
*
"It's very nice to meet you, Mree. Very, very nice!" Binx can't help but grin. And a goofy, kind of lopsided grin it is, too. After shaking hands, he chuckles. "No need to call me 'Mister' Binx. Just Binx will do. I know it's strange, but I like it." As he talks, he looks Mree up and down, his gaze lingering on the tail. "You're a plant!" He says excitedly. "You're a living, breathing, but most importantly, walking and talking plant! Amazing!" His wonderment knows no bounds! "I just…you're the one I was looking for. Unbelievable! But here we are."
*
Mree leans down, continuing to shoe himself, sliding a thumb into the back of one shiny black shoe in order to slide it on without trampling down the back of it. He glances up over his shoulder and can hardly help but feel Binx' joy and reflect it back toward him with a quiet but cheerful little curl of a smile, his green eyes sparkling in the low light of dusk. "OK— Binx," he tests out the name on its own. He takes a short breath at being called a plant. It's not something people tend to say to him, but he doesn't take it badly, at that. Once he gets his second shoe on, he lifts both brows in curiosity, leaning back on the lawn chair and then easing onto his side, bending his form at the waist so that the middle section of the long seat is largely vacant. He pats it to see whether Binx wants to sit down by him. "You were looking for me?" he wonders. "Why? Did I do something?"
*
Accepting the seat beside Mree, placing his briefcase off to the side, Binx still can't believe that it was this sentient being that he'd been sensing. How amazing is that?! He clears his throat and smiles. "This may sound…okay, considering what you…" He's usually better with forming sentences, he really is. "I'm going to tell you something that almost nobody knows about me. I…am a mutant." He takes a deep breath in and lets it out slowly. "My mutation gives me a connection to plants. Any and all types of plants. I can sense them, feel their strength, I can make them grow, I can make them move and seemingly 'walk' around, and I can make them fly. I was walking along from an appointment when I sensed…well, you, I suppose. Something so different than I was accustomed to." He smiles widely. "But different in a good way, of course!"
*
Mree isn't at all impatient. Those tumbling words are kind of adorable, and he gathers them up with a gentle, sweet smile until they find culmination. "Oh— you're lucky, you don't look like one," he points out. "I won't tell. But my bosses here are very pro-mutant-equality. You'll be fine if you tell them, too. They gave me a job," he points out with a bright grin. "Which I'm presently not doing— but that's OK; I'll stay late," he murmurs as a little aside, resting on his elbow and looking up into Binx's eyes. "You have a connection?" he repeats, curious. "Can I feel it?" he wonders, gazing steadily, inviting some manner of influence.
*
"Oh goodness!" Binx places his hand on his face and shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I…I shouldn't be keeping you from your work! Especially at a place that's so accepting." But he's never encountered anyone like Mree before! It's so strange and exciting to him. He couldn't pass up the opportunity. "I do. I have a connection to plants." The question about whether Mree can feel it piques Binx's interest. "You've got a keen mind there, Mree. I honestly don't know if you can feel it. I've never had someone who could relay to me how it feels." He reaches out a hand to Mree before tugging it back and asking, "Do uh…well, do you mind if I…if try something? We can see what it's like for you? It won't be anything that wouldn't normally occure for you in the first place…"
*
"It's okay. I was on a break anyhow, maybe I fell asleep," Mree lifts a finger to tap the side of his nose in a conspiritorial manner. Then, lifting his hand, he makes to reach for the hand reaching for him, offering his palm to place up against the offered palm. "Maybe just if we were quiet for a minute. Let me just feel being here with you," he proposes, along with some palm-to-palm contact, some deep-eye gazing. "Maybe I am connected to you, after all." And he dips his chin in a gesture of consent for Binx to attempt what he pleases. Perhaps there is a connection in place. Mree does seem awfully trusting.
*
Chuckling softly, Binx shakes his head. "I just hope you don't get in trouble for that. I'd hate for a 'nap' to get you in trouble." Reaching out his hand to place against Mree's, he lets his ability do its job. He reaches out with it to sense the plant-like being that is Mree. With his other hand, he reaches up, the hand grazing Mree's face. The whiskers there seem to grow slightly. Not by much, but a little bit. "How's…how's that…how did it feel?" He's afraid he might actually hurt Mree. He's not accustomed to the ones he works on being able to speak and communicate their feelings.
*
Mree feels… something, for sure. A warm-glowing trust, as if in the hands of a competent and benevolent gardener. It's lovely, and his eyes lid partially in a dreamy gaze as he surrenders himself to it, his thumb trailing just slightly along the outside of Binx' thumb in an almost sensual reaction to the contact. His head tips backward a little when Binx strokes his face, and the little whisker-tendrils, all covered in downy fluff as they are, react quite positively, moving ans swaying and then coiling themselves about Binx' fingers, snaking further around them as they sprout and leaving trails of shed pollen and micro-flowers across skin as they move.
*
Mree can't even make words, evidently. It's far too enjoyable. "Mmmhh," he approves.
*
"Amazing." Whispers Binx, not sure what else he can exactly say. His hands, which have become quite familiar with the feel of plants, as he's gardened often, are gentle, with a touch of hesitation from learning that even the strongest of plants need to be handled with care. "I can't tell you how wondrous this is." He murmurs softly.
*
"Neither can I—ther," Mree murbles out the dad-pun words, eyes still dazed by the afterglow of the beautiful moment. When he gains focus again, his eyes settle on Binx', all but beating cartoon hearts. "You're… you're fantastic. So… gentle. I haven't ever been touched like that before," he murmurs in his delicate, sweet little accent. His tendrils are not letting go, just craving that contact. "You're like sunlight, I just want to turn to you."
*
A little giggle emits from Binx at the Dad-pun. Yes, he likes them. He won't deny it. He gazes at Mree, taking in this person before him. "You're just as fantastic. Honestly." He speaks softly, gently. "I've discovered that people and plants alike deserve tenderness." He responds in a quiet tone. "And you…you magnificent person, you deserve to be treated so well. The sun should only know how lucky it is to shine its light on you." He smiles kindly. "I've never met anyone, or any being, like you. You're so…you're just amazing!"
*
The darker green of Mree's tendrils begins to crawl further up his cheeks in what must pass for a blush in his physionomy. "Aw— you're… you're sweet," he simpers sweetly under the adulation. "I'm just me, really. But I'm glad you like me. Maybe you'll come back sometime and we can go have lunch," he suggests. "Sometime soon. Tomorrow? Or just stay. Can you stay here?" Maybe Mree's getting a little attached. Metaphorically as well as physically.
*
"But 'just you' is so amazing!" Binx tells Mree. And he means it. He considers the suggestions of returning, or possibly staying. Reaching out to gently brush one of the tendrils, he sighs. "I'd love to stay. Honestly I would." He murmurs. "But…" He sighs. "My sister is coming over for dinner. I can't stay." A little smile parts his lips, though. "However, I can come for lunch tomorrow!" He seems genuinely enthused about that idea. "What…what do you like to eat? I can bring something with me."
*
Mree's eyes close almost-hut as his tendrils are scritched, unfurling from the fingers and waving loose. The pollen on them gets knocked loose and drifts aimlessly in a cloud that might not be visible but which Binx can probably well sense, if he wishes to smell it. "Your sister's really lucky," he mrrs low over the half-sensate words. "Oh, yay! Thank you. I like, oh, anything. Like a hot dog, or a hamburger. I like soda pop, too."
*
"I'll let my sister know that you think so. Being my twin, she just loves hearing about how lucky she is to have me as a brother." Binx chuckles softly. Even though he can't physically see the pollen, his eyes seem to look in the general direction that they're drifting. "I'll be sure to bring some hot dogs and hamburgers and soda pop tomorrow then." He says, sounding slightly distracted as he holds out his hand in the direction of the pollen. Reaching for his briefcase, he opens it up and, using his senses, guides the pollen into it, closing it up. He wants to know what the pollen will turn into if he lets it grow!
Holding out his hand in front of Mree, palm up, a few seeds fly out of his jacket pockets and land in his palm. It takes a moment, but they start growing right there, forming three distinct types of flowers. One tulip, one lily, and iris. "For you." He keeps his hand open for Mree to take them.
*
Mree doen't know what Binx is doing with his odd gestures, but he has that feeling— that trustful, warm feeling creep back into the periphery of his judgement, and he doesn't even care. Binx can do no wrong. Nor does he disappoint, but he sprouts flowers for him, and Mree has to draw his lower lip into his mouth to stop any sort of strange noise from emerging from him. Watching the flowers bloom and present their pollen-bearing stamina to him, that riles something deep in his plant-brain, and the blush creeps back up into place as he almost shyly takes the offered presents, then brings them closer to himself, as though to smell them, but instead he just caresses them with his whiskers, looking to Binx with a winsome set of bedroom eyes if ever a plant were to have them. Look at him, rubbing his pollen-producing organs against theirs. What a minx!
*
Watching Mree with eyes filled with wonder, amazement and, perhaps, a little bit of longing, Binx bows his head ever so slightly and smiles. He's glad that his floral gifts are received so well. Though he didn't doubt they would be. "I…I…" He sighs softly. "I can't tell you how glad I am that I found you here today, Mree. I just…the world is full of so much fantastic beings, but that we met…what had to come together." He shakes his head, laughing in happiness. "Oh, I don't want to leave. I really don't."
*
"But you're going to, aren't you?" Mree realizes, with the down-sloping tone of a truly dire realization. "You have dinner with your sister, and I have to finish up getting the cupboards organized before I can go away home. But now you know where you can find me. And I hope you do come find me. As often as you can," he murmurs, tendrils still toying with the flowers he's holding.
*
"Unless…I mean…do you want to come to dinner? I'm sure my sister won't mind?" Of course, Binx doesn't know that for sure. It was just supposed to be him and his sister, but how often does this happen? Surely their twin-connection (tm) would make her understand, right? Digging through his jacket pockets, he pulls out a card and a pen. "This is…my…card…" He says, as he writes a number on the back. "The front is my office information. I've written my home number on the back. Call me." He tells Mree as he holds out the card. On the front it reads: 'Dr. Robert M Binx, MD Psychiatry/Family Medicine', along with the name and address of a medical practice. "If you don't want to come by tonight, I'll still see you tomorrow." He says softly. "I'll come by here with lunch."
*