Jeannie
◆ "Really?" A single eyebrow arched up. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, mate."

□ Setting the other plant back into its pot, the satisfying feeling of a job well done washed over Silas like a warm blanket. In fifteen minutes, and with the help of a pocket knife, he'd lifted the survival chances of a pair of plants from 10% to at least 75%, and those sorts of odds were much better when it came to someone who felt some sort of attachment to said plants. Closing his knife, he dropped it into the chest pocket of his shirt en lieu of any pockets on his skirt, then turned to face Uriel, who'd been chatting about hobbies and payment and whatnot.

▪︎ Now, was he even to take payment...?

"Shit, don't worry about paying me for this. It's just a bit of... You know, much-needed care. No sense in taking payment for what's basically emergency surgery; i'm not a fuckin' American doctor." A chuckle followed. "Anyways, yeah, that's neat. Seems like... I dunno, a pretty relaxing set of hobbies. More relaxing than dealing with drool-lipped idiots in my ranked games, at the very least, heh. Anyways, your plants should be good to go! Just... Shade, proper water, fungicide, and you'll know within a week if they're going to make it. As for the clippings...? I'll propagate them myself, so that if either of these die there'll be a new one ready."
Diane
"Are you sure?" Uriel said hesitantly, before gathering the potted plant back into their arms. 

"It's... If you ever change your mind, feel free to approach me with anything you need, alright?" Uriel almost turns to walk away, before the metaphorical loading icon above their head finishes spinning. 

"Oh, uh— I almost forgot. What's your intranet handle, in case I have any questions or I need those clippings...?"
Jeannie
◆ "Aye, I am."

□ Nodding, he took a few steps back, passing himself between the table and the counter where his sautéed onions had been sitting pretty in a bowl, waiting to be devoured with gusto. Picking up the unremarkable porcelain bowl, the ambient heat radiated through the palms of his hands, a soup bowl in spirit and just as warming. Taking another bite out of the one he'd been nibbling for the past ten or so minutes, he looked over at Uriel, Hershey's eyes peering back as they asked about social media handles and the like.

▪︎ He made sure to swallow his food before talking, holding up a finger to indicate that Uriel should wait.

◆ "At Silo A seven Ex. Kind of a cringelord name, but cringe culture's dead, so." He shrugged. "Just shoot any questions ya got and I'll answer 'em, alright? See ya, mate."

• Another job well done.