Seed 1.2

Try as he might, Rick couldn't get the sword out of his mind, questions of just how it had gotten there circling around his head. On some level, he wanted to believe it was a prank... but if that was true, then it was a joke that not just the car owner, but also the police force, were in collusion on pulling on an ordinary mechanic shop. He just couldn't see why they'd do that, even if the police officers in these parts were the type to joke around.

That left the possibility that the story was real, or at least as far as the original teller understood what had happened, but... the sort of force it took to drive a blade clean through the hood and engine of any kind of car, denting and deforming the exterior along with it? Rick would sooner believe that the blade would have dented the hood, maybe penetrated a bit, and then snapped, to be honest. He supposed it was possible that it had just missed all of the more solid metal components on the way through, like if someone were stabbed with a knife and it miraculously avoided all of their organs, but if that were the case then shouldn't it have been relatively easy to just pry loose once someone got a good, solid grip on it?

It was a mystery that it seemed was going to remain unsolved for the time being, since they'd pretty much have to disassemble the car in order to take a proper look at the insides at this point.

Couldn't be helped. He wasn't the one who made that sort of call, he just drove cars from parking spaces to the work station and back, then changed oil, spark plugs, and replaced some batteries. Didn't mean that he wasn't wondering right up until the moment he clocked out, and then after, as he pedaled slowly back towards his apartment.

He only snapped out of it when he nearly ran into a man in a bathrobe. Or... some kind of robe, anyway.

"Hm?" the man said, cheerily disregarding the fact that he had nearly been slammed into before Rick had turned off the path and into a bush. "Well hello, friend."

"Didn't you hear me ringing the bell? That means get out of the way, you know. Or at least don't stand right in the middle of the path." Rick said, holding back the urge to swear as he brushed leaves off of himself and started prying his bike out of the bush it was lodged in.

"Oh dear... was that what it was? I'm afraid I was lost in thought. Let me give you a hand there, good man." the robed figure replied, before wedging a short walking stick into the bush and helping lever the bicycle free. "Bartholomew Bertram Bronson, at your service, sir."

"Hah... Richard Ainsley." Rick reluctantly replied, sticking out his hand for a moment for the stranger to blink in puzzlement at before clasping it firmly at the wrist. "... All right, can't help but ask, are you out here larping or something? The funny robes, ornamented stick... some kind of wizard role, right?"

"Role... Ah, yes. I suppose that I am indeed, as you say... larping." the man replied.

"No need to stick to character, Barty, doesn't seem like any of your friends are around." Rick said, as the robed man mouthed 'Barty?' to himself. "So what brings you to these parts? Didn't figure central park for a good location. Sure, you've got more greenery to work with, but you've also got enough traffic that you can't be surprised if you get interrupted."

"Ah! Well, my good fellow... Actually, perhaps you could answer a small question of my own. Only a trifling, I assure you. Does this tree seem... odd, to you? Perhaps out of place, in any way?" Barty asked.

The tree?

Rick hadn't really looked closely at it. Admittedly, he didn't generally pay too much attention to the scenery that he passed by on the way to and from work... it was, quite literally, just something that filled the background as he moved along. But now that it was brought to his notice...

... Had this tree been here, this morning?

Rick genuinely couldn't recall. It wouldn't be a great surprise if the tree itself was some kind of new addition to the park, since the caretenders kept adding and changing things. That was the secret to budgets... if you didn't use them all in one year, you weren't guaranteed to get all the money next year, when you might desperately need the funds... so a lot of things had to be bought that weren't exactly needed, but could still be justified.

Still, Rick couldn't help but think that while he didn't pay much attention to the trees and bushes, he would have noticed a new one getting transplanted. And this one was fairly big, with the dirt around it not seeming to have been recently disturbed, so....

"I don't think so?" Rick finally decided. "It's a tree. They've got a lot of them in Central Park."

"Hm, as you say... as you say. Strange... I suppose I could have been mistaken, though. Or deliberately led astray." Barty murmured to himself, stroking his beard. "... Ah, your pardon. It is a matter of little consequence. That being said, if you would excuse me."

Barty checked what looked like an ornate pocket-watch on a chain, looking left and right, before putting it away again and tapping his walking stick firmly on the pavement. Then, without a further word, he made his way casually off the path, crossing between bushes and disappearing into the foliage. His humming lingered behind him, though, fading with distance.

"... Weirdo." Rick grunted, checking his tires to make sure they were still in good condition. It wasn't like he had nothing else to do than play along with a rambling larper in the park, anyway. He was a busy man and needed to start something going for dinner at home if he didn't want to have to pick up something from a fast food place along the way.

Seemed fine. And he was just about ready to step back up into the seat and make his way home when a quiet voice called out from the rustling boughs of that tree.

"Is he gone?"