[She just rolls her eyes at him, giving him a look like so are you gonna do it or not. It's nice that it's this... normal. That they can be this normal when they're both utterly and completely fucked.]

Yeah, well, flowers don't normally grow on meat, either, so here we are.

[Beau leans back on her good arm, twisting her hip to look over at him and only wincing a little as it moves one of the flowers there, the growth taking a stab into her side as a result.]

This is literally some novel level torture shit. Like, yeah, you're gonna die, but instead of using a sword or something you have to talk about yourself. How does that even work?

[She's frustrated, but slowly accepting this. She just doesn't like it, and is going to complain a bit.]

Like, it doesn't even make any sense.