really, it's becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the ashes that scatter across her floor. she couldn't have finished her cigarette before stepping through the door..? it's not really her business to judge but god, it might take a few days for the shop to air out once this is over. with this in mind, she nonchalantly moves to open a window, fresh air slowly beginning to filter through the shop. that might solve the smoke problem but the ashes? they have to go.

a small smirk rises to her lips as the woman begins complaining. of course, she has to be polite so this woman will continue to help her but the need to mock, to tease, rises without hesitation. a harmless quip wouldn't hurt, right? and so, with all the innocence she can possibly force, she murmurs toward her. "well, flowers grow all over the place so technically those are free, yes?" her features maintain their feigned innocence as she turns, gaze dropping toward the ashes before rising back to the woman's face. "there's no real difference between weeds and flowers. it all depends on the gardener so in your eyes, yes all flowers are weeds." her sister had explained that many years ago, when she had grown panicked at the sight of white clovers beginning to grow within her little garden. to her sister, they were great for attracting beedrill... to her, they were weeds that must be exterminated. of course, the lesson that had been learned was that even weeds have their appeal and it still holds to this day. she'd never bring it up to her sister, but she had begun leaving some weeds alone whenever they grew, so long as they weren't invasive and left the rest of her lovely little plants alone.

faye merely offers a smile in the face of the woman's tone, the mask staying firm. it's obvious she has no interest in anything other than getting this done quickly and really, the butterfly woman can't complain too much. the less time spent around this woman, the better. her smoke is beginning to sting at faye's eyes and if she's being honest, it's taking everything in her to not make more comments about putting the damn thing out. she needs to stay composed, maintain the mask until the woman leaves and the shop is clean. otherwise, the place will still be a disaster and she'll be back to where she started. it could be worse, right? "that's the spirit!" her own tone is clipped, strained, perhaps even mirroring the woman. she doesn't bother to even wonder if she's mocking the woman, instead opting to saunter away to her own tasks. the woman will be fine.

she doesn't know her shop is currently being ruined even further by a literal heap of garbage. her mind is elsewhere as she gets to work on maintaining her garden, soft gloves already slipping onto her small hands. once she steps back inside, she'll more than likely have a miltank but for now, the woman and her little trubbish are left to their own devices, the latter leaving gross streaks across the floor with every movement.

the woman's voice filters out toward her and her hands still, hovering over some small weeds. "okay," she calls, glancing back toward the door leading into the shop. after a slight pause, she adds, "if you need a trash bag for the ones you want to take, there's some in that bucket of supplies." with that, she moves to carry out her work, thoughts already drifting away from the woman inside.

it takes a little while, no more than an hour, before faye is finally satisfied with the state of her garden. all of the weeds and wilted flowers have been removed, discarded in a small pile beside her. she is considerate to not just throw them in the trash can by the door, instead saving them to give to the woman. she had needed dead flowers, anyway, and these scraps will not provide any use for the florist. she stays outside for a bit longer, however, if only to give the garden another glance over. everything looks healthy again, pleasant and well-kept. one task on a long list now done. and so, she gathers the pile beside her into her arms and rises to her feet, lips beginning to curl into a small smile.

"how's it going in here?" she inquires as she steps into the doorway. it takes a few moments before she notices the state of the floor, the ooze that forms a little trail toward the part of the shop where the woman now lingers. her eyes widen and for a moment, she considers yelling, screaming, throwing the dead flowers in her arms. "um," she begins, unable to tear her eyes away from the disgusting slime. "what is that and why is it all over my floor?" oh boy.

@jane