Trip's New House Plant

7 comics.
by on March 20, 2021 at 12:00 am
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This was the first night shift Trip had had in awhile. As a morning person, he much preferred the day shifts, but he didn’t really mind. He worked as hired muscle for the auction floor of the Black Lion Trading HQ in Lion’s Arch: acting as a bouncer for rowdy participants and helping with general clean up. It wasn’t that glamorous 9:00-5:00 office job he dreamed of, but it was a start at least.

Cleaning up the auction floor was his favourite part—he’d always had a knack for organizing and tidying up. It was far more engaging than standing around trying to look intimidating. Not to mention less pressuring.

Tonight it was just him and Mr. Sraff, an unusually tall asura, tidying up and closing the floor. They didn’t really talk much. Mr. Sraff was friendly enough but he usually worked nights and Trip worked days—they just didn’t see each other often. When he first saw him that night, the two exchanged pleasantries as they usually did, donned their work armour (oh how Trip wished for a tie), and simply went to business as usual.

Mr. Sraff was sweeping near the back as Trip took care of putting away the chairs. Carefully but swiftly, Trip made his way down the aisles stacking up the chairs and moving them to the wall. He’d just about finished when he noticed

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by on March 20, 2021 at 12:02 am
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something strange near the entranceway. There appeared to be some dark mass slumped over one of the sofas. Trip paused in his work, delicately placing down the stack of chairs he’d been collecting, and cautiously making his way over to check.

It was a person.

A sylvari, more precisely.

He didn’t look too good: a scrappy looking thing covered in dirt and cuts and dressed in torn, ragged clothing. The tiny plant looked like he’d been dragged through the mud, and he’d been in more than a few fights. He was sleeping with his limbs sprawled awkwardly over the sofa, his breathe coming in and out in shaky wisps.

“I wouldn’t worry about that one!” Mr. Sraff called from the back wall. “He’s here every night. He’s harmless.”

Trip hastily walked away from the plant boy to talk with Mr. Sraff properly.

“Every night?” He said in a far more volume-appropriate whisper.

“Yeah. For a few weeks now. You don’t work nights usually, right?” Mr. Sraff was not taking the hint and continued to speak normally. Trip found himself casting nervous glances at the sylvari.

“I do work days, usually, yes…”

“Probably why you didn’t notice.”

“…Is he homeless?”

“Probably? Or maybe just another drunkard, I don’t know. Look it’s fine. He’s just here for the couch. Don’t worry about it.”

With that, Mr. Sraff went back to his sweeping, making it clear there was nothing left to say on the matter. Trip hesitantly gave the plant kid one more look before resuming his work as well.

That would have been the end of it, but as they finished closing duties and said their goodbyes, Trip found himself stopping at the entrance. Mr. Sraff said to leave him. And he was going to! He was going to, but…

There was something about the way the young plant was spread over the sofa,  his limbs at odd angles, like he’d never figured out how to sleep correctly.

Like his brother.

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by on March 20, 2021 at 12:04 am
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The longer he stared at the sylvari, the more he could see it: his twin brother, vividly snoring on the couch at Trip’s home by the bay. He’d always been such a mess, that brother, leaving his clothes everywhere and forgetting to do his share of the chores. They’d fight and fight and Trip would push him to find a job already.

Then one day they fought so bad, he just up and left. Trip hadn’t heard from him since. He missed him though, terribly.

…Did sylvari have brothers?

Trip reached down to gently shake the plant boy awake, but before he could even touch him, the boy had scrambled up with a start. He was brandishing a knife that he must have had hidden. Well that part’s not really like my brother… but he saw the fear in the boy’s wild eyes, and the way his hand with the knife shook.

“Good evening. My name is Trip Leonardis.” Trip gave him his best gentle smile, though he wasn’t sure how well that worked with his armour on. “And you are?”

“T-Tora Zollun.” The kid stammered seemingly without thinking. His eyes widened with regret the moment he said it. “I-I mean—!”

“Tell me Mr. Zollun, do you have a place to stay right now?”

Mr. Zollun only looked at him, confused. He looked just like a lost puppy, scared and desperate. Just a child really. Trip gently took the knife from the boy’s shaking hand and placed it aside.

“Would you like to stay with me?”

*

He wasn’t sure why he’d offered really—loneliness? Because he reminded him of his brother? A spur of the moment thing? It was hard to say, but he’d offered all the same, and the young Mr. Zollun took it. He’d followed Trip cautiously back home, jumping at every small sound: a rat, a cart moving nearby, the creak in the wooden bridge they crossed… It seemed fairly obvious that he’d been through a lot, but Trip didn’t bother asking.

When they reached the threshold of his humble little abode, a tiny wooden structure crammed beside several others against a cliffside near the bay, the

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by on March 20, 2021 at 12:06 am
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small sylvari stopped. He looked unsure, as if he was having second thoughts. My, what has this kid been through? But Trip simply unlocked the door and calmly ushered him in.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but do come in.”

It truly was a mess, but Trip simply hadn’t had the time to finish his regular chores. The floors were swept, the windows cleaned, the kitchen and bathroom spotless, laundry folded and put away… but he forgot to dust! And where were the fresh flowers for the vase in the living room? And he hadn’t put that book he was reading away! And was that a coffee spill on the counter?! Deplorable! How absolutely embarrassing!

“It looks pretty clean t’me…” Mr. Zollun said timidly. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, scrutinizing Trip’s home with the curiosity and caution of a stray cat.

“Oh, you’re too kind.” Trip laughed, relieved. “But uh, come in! You can hang your coat there.”

He gestured to the coat hanger by the door, and Mr. Zollun reluctantly shook off his ratty coat and hung it. The coat wasn’t the only thing ratty about the boy’s attire, Trip realized. Under the coat was more torn clothes, covered in stains and cuts. In all honesty, he shouldn’t have been surprised. What a mess this poor boy was.

“I’m going to start dinner in a bit.” Trip said as he moved towards the kitchen.  He was still wearing his work armour, but that could come off later. “Did you want to borrow the bath? It’s upstairs. First room on the right.”

“H-Huh?” Mr. Zollun had been examining Trip’s house plant in the foyer, his prized majesty palm. “But—”

“You can borrow my clothes too if you like, but they might be a bit big for you.”

The boy was quiet, fidgeting uncomfortably, and holding his arm in a nervous grip. He looked to the floor, seemingly embarrassed.

“…Okay.”

And he pattered off, past the kitchenette, past the couch in the living room, and up the creaky set of stairs to the bath.

*

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by on March 20, 2021 at 12:08 am
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Trip spent the rest of that evening more or less tending to the kid: putting his dirty clothes in the hamper to wash later, bandaging up his wounds (he had several), handing him a set of fresh clothes (they were, as anticipated, too big), and finally serving dinner.

He hadn’t really known what to expect when he’d decided to take Mr. Zollun in so suddenly, but he hadn’t expected him to be so… meek? Not that the boy threatening him with a knife earlier had scared him much, but Trip had supposed he’d put up more of a fight. Instead, he was just, quiet… and very shy. Trip didn’t really know sylvari ages all that well, but he figured Mr. Zollun must have been a sapling—a sapling very far from home.

Weren’t young sylvari almost always in The Grove somewhere? Was that not how that worked? Trip wasn’t exactly sure. He’d never really been there himself, but he’d had a few sylvari coworkers and that seemed to be where they all spent their youths. So why was this young plant here? That was the question but…

Trip looked away from the stove a moment to check on Mr. Zollun who was sheepishly sitting (incorrectly) at the kitchen table. He’d had to put a lot of bandages on him. There was at least two on his face.

Trip remembered how his brother had looked when he found him by the docks: covered in cuts and bruises. At the time, it’d been years since they’d seen each other. He’d ran away from home to Lion’s Arch against their parents’ wishes in their teens. Trip only saw him when he’d gotten a job there himself and moved. That’s when they’d started living together. He never did find out where those bruises came from.

Looking at Mr. Zollun, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever find out where these ones came from either. Perhaps that was for the best.

Trip returned to his cooking, a lovely seafood stew he’d learned to make from a coworker’s recipe, and set a bowl of it in front of Mr. Zollun. The sapling looked startled—did he not realize it was dinner time? He didn’t touch it at first either, waiting for Trip to take the first bite as if expecting it to be poisoned. He did eat it though, slowly and carefully as if he was unsure he was allowed to.

They didn’t talk, which felt a bit awkward, frankly. Trip figured he should fix that.

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by on March 20, 2021 at 12:10 am
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FOR THE FIRST PAGE OF THIS SHORT STORY CLICK HERE

“How is it?” Trip tried.

Mr. Zollun didn’t respond, and Trip wondered if he’d heard him. But then he heard sniffling and looked up to find the boy sobbing. Fat ugly tears rolled down his cheeks and he had to stop eating to wipe them away. Oddly enough, Trip wasn’t taken back by this response.

Haven’t I seen this before?

He remembered the face of his twin brother the first night he stayed over and Trip had cooked dinner. It was their favourite meal as kids, just macaroni and cheese—nothing fancy. Yet his brother had wept at the table like a child. He could still see the way his face broke, eyes swirling in sorrow and relief. The tears had seemed endless.

Ah. Trip realized as he watched the same endless tears fall from Mr. Zollun.

They really are the same.

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