Count Bleck led the rest of the group through town bright and early the next morning. Everyone seemed excited to see this girl, including the count. Well, everyone except Nastasia. Halfway through town she suddenly remembered that she had other events she had to get to. She was very vague and very quick to leave. 

Dimentio was certain that none of his companions were fooled by her excuses. Count Bleck pretended not to mind, but the way his shoulders sagged slightly proved otherwise. 

The building was toward the edge of town, but not the area with the tree lot. Dimentio noticed Mr. L fidgeting with his hands and silently wondered to himself how long it had been since Mr. L volunteered there. He had been hanging out with the rest of them for the past few days. Did he feel guilty for spending more time with his friends than working?

Dimentio hoped not. It was Mr. L's vacation too, after all. 

Maybe the fidgeting wasn't guilt. Maybe it was because he was so used to being productive that all this messing around was starting to drive him a little crazy. Dimentio could relate to that. At first, it was super hard for him to find peace and relax. He was getting better at it, though. 

Count Bleck exchanged his earmuffs for his usual tophat as he led them into what looked like a large glass dome. The inside was significantly warmer than the outside. It was like they all stepped into a completely different season. There was green grass beneath them, a small little pond, and rows upon rows of flowers organized by species and color. There were a few different butterflies fluttering about, further enhancing the springtime feel. 

Count Bleck took his hat off, then held out his hand. A few seconds later, one of the butterflies fluttered onto his extended index finger, flapping its wings slowly as if trying to maintain its balance.

"Everyone, I'd like you to meet Tippi," the count smiled.

Mimi, who had walked through the snow in her rainbow summertime dress, gasped as if she was seeing a celebrity. O'Chunks grinned and bowed slightly.

Mr. L and Dimentio exchanged confused glances. 

She was... a butterfly?

"Wow," Dimentio said without thinking. "She's a..."

"Pixl," Tippi answered cheerfully, practically making Mr. L jump out of his skin. 

"It talks?!" the man in green gasped.

"Well of course she talks, silly," Mimi giggled, nudging Mr. L with her pointy little elbow. "She's his wife."

"Wife?" Dimentio asked.

How would that work? Dimentio understood beings of different backgrounds being together. He supported love in practically every situation. But... how would that relationship work?! She was a butterfly! Could they even hold hands or kiss or do anything that couples did?

"Don't act surprised, Dimentio," Count Bleck laughed. "You've heard the story plenty of times."

"I have?"

"He's still so silly," Tippi laughed. Her voice was similar to Mimi's but less childish and high-pitched. She sounded more like a college-aged popular girl from a sorority while Mimi sounded like a middle schooler. 

"It's 'is whole thing," O'Chunks laughed. "'E's de jester."

The rest of the group laughed, but Dimentio couldn't bring himself to join in. He had zero memories of that butterfly. It wasn't like seeing Mr. L and suddenly being flooded with recollections. He had no idea who she was. He didn't even know Count Bleck had a wife. 

No wonder Nastasia couldn't bring herself to come. She had lost her crush to a literal insect. That was a whole new level of sad. 

"So... how did you two meet?" Mr. L asked, clearly skeptical as well. 

"Oh, our caretakers were good friends," Tippi answered. "It's a beautiful story. When we were young, his father came to my village to try and work out a peaceful way to settle their differences. He was from the Tribe of Darkness, I was living amongst the Tribe of Ancients. One night he snuck over without his dad seeing, and we met. Ever since, we've been practically inseparable. In fact, our union was what brought our two worlds together."

She fluttered onto the count's head. Though she didn't have an actual mouth, she seemed to be smiling. 

"Okay... and you're a pixl," Mr. L noted. "You're a pixl, and he's a guy. How does that-"

"She wasn't always a pixl," Count Bleck chuckled. "That's the whole point of us working together, remember? We're looking for a solution to bring her back."

"That's why we work for you?!" Dimentio exclaimed in a sudden outburst. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised. He hadn't thought of why he was working for Count Bleck in quite some time. He had this idea in the back of his mind that he had been working toward a much larger goal. He thought that the count brought them all together to do something world-changing, like spreading peace. He didn't know that all of the group's efforts were for a singular butterfly girl. 

Why did he ever agree to work for the count if that was all they were doing? It was a nice cause, but it didn't seem like the kind of thing he'd devote his entire life to. 

"Yes," Count Bleck answered, furrowing his brows slightly as if confused by Dimentio's reactions. 

Dimentio looked around the room, feeling slightly embarrassed from how ridiculous he knew he must have looked. It must have killed Nastasia inside to know that each day she was working to bring back Count Bleck's wife. That kind of thing took a lot of strength.

"Right," the jester muttered. "My apologies. I remember now."

He didn't, but it was easier to pretend he did. He remembered the story from the Light Prognosticus that Count Bleck shared with them the day before. Some things weren't worth questioning. Not everything had an answer. 

"Oh, good! Well, feel free to explore the garden," Tippi explained, her voice merry and bright. "Outside is too cold for me, so if you ever need me, I'll be in here."

The group nodded, then dispersed to look around the dome. It was quite massive. Big enough to hold different trees. Dimentio couldn't recall the last time he saw so many colors. The room matched Tippi's rainbow pallet. 

The jester sat down by a row of tulips. They were organized in rows by the color of the rainbow. 

"They're beautiful," he muttered, reaching out and placing his hand on the petals. He could feel the smooth, silky texture. 

He then brought his attention to his hand. 

He wasn't wearing gloves. 

But he always wore gloves, right? When did he take them off?

He frowned slightly as Mr. L sat down next to him. 

"I know, right?" the man in green agreed. "I don't think I've ever seen tulips in the wild."

"I don't like wildflowers," Dimentio replied, the thoughts of his missing gloves leaving just as quickly as they had entered. "Too messy."

"Really?" the man in green asked. "I think the messiness is my favorite thing about them. It's a little inspiring how they manage to survive surrounded by such untamed chaos."

Dimentio shook his head. Organized gardens were simply more pleasing to look at. It was easier and less overwhelming to sit amongst. He could locate any specific breed and color he wanted in seconds. Fields of wildflowers didn't offer that. 

"The dome makes it so it stays spring all year," Tippi explained, fluttering from the count and over to the flower patches Mr. L and Dimentio were looking at. "So the flowers never change."

Dimentio nodded. Something inside him was comforted by that. He liked the idea of things staying the same forever. It was like the dome froze the world in place. 

"Really?" Mr. L asked. "That's not right."

"What do you mean?" Tippi asked. 

Mr. L seemed to pause. He looked over at the Butterfly Weed and the Impatiens.

"Those flowers should never grow at the same time," he explained. "It's one of the best parts about plants. They each have their own timeframes. They're supposed to change as the world does."

"Not here," Tippi giggled. "That's what's lovely about this place. Nothing has to change. Ever."

"I don't like that," Mr. L stated.

"I do," Dimentio breathed, inserting himself into the conversation. He placed his hand into the soft soil below the flowers. It felt almost like sand. Warm, smooth, silky. 

In a perfect world, nothing would need to change. Everything would be organized and beautiful. Flowers wouldn't die or wither. Perhaps the whole world would feel like that dome. Frozen in time. 

"You guys are weird," Mr. L said. 

Tippi giggled, then fluttered onto the man in green's hat, flapping her wings slightly. 

"I like you, new guy," she laughed. "You think a lot. But that's the thing about this place. You're on vacation. You don't have to think anymore. You can rest your mind. And your hands. Stop that."

Mr. L looked down at his hands only to see that he was spreading out the dirt, filling in a few holes. He quietly laughed, then wiped his now dirty hands off on his shirt. 

"Sorry, old habit," he laughed. "I'm so used to being productive that it's hard to stop."

"My husband used to be like that," Tippi laughed. "Bleck was a workaholic. Day in and day out he spent hours trying to find a solution that could change me back. It changed him. Made him miserable. He started getting distant until I reminded him to be content."

"Be content," Dimentio echoed. 

Mr. L squinted his eyes slightly, then nodded. 

"Be content," he whispered. The man in green shrugged, then quietly chuckled to himself. "I'm not sure whether that's a good moral, or a little creepy."

"What do you mean?" Tippi asked.

"I mean, I get not letting too many questions run your life," Mr. L explained. "In fact, the whole 'be content' thing is something I would have been completely on board with a few days ago. I like being content with whatever situation I'm given. But... I don't know, the more I think about it, the more-"

"Don't think about it too much," Dimentio interrupted. "That's the point. If you think too much, you'll confuse yourself. You're on winter vacation. Just enjoy it."

"Exactly," Tippi agreed with a cheery tone. "You're the man in green. You're supposed to be content with what you're given. It's your entire job."

Mr. L didn't reply, but Dimentio could tell from the way his eyebrows lowered that he wanted to. Perhaps he didn't know how. Or maybe he did, but he didn't want to start a fight. Mr. L was peaceful, but he was also a fighter. Or, at least he was in Dimentio's memories. 

"Anyway," the pixl sighed. "I best move on. Bleck just wanted me to check up on everyone. I still need to meet up with Mimi. I love her dress, by the way."

"Tell her," Dimentio chuckled. "It'll make her day. She suffered through the cold just so she could show it to you."

"Oh, I will," Tippi beamed. "Please give Nastasia a warm hug from me. I was sad she couldn't be here."

Dimentio nodded as the butterfly fluttered off. 

He was most certainly not going to give Nastasia that hug. He wasn't exactly a touchy person, and a hug from Tippi seemed like the last thing she'd want. 

He turned his attention to Mr. L, whose eyes were down, looking at the flowers. It didn't seem like he was actually focusing on them, however. It was like he had fallen deep into his own mind, buried in his thoughts. Dimentio knew the look well. Count Bleck used to wear it. 

He hadn't seen the count look like that in a long time, though. 

"So," Dimentio breathed, hoping to start a casual conversation in order to break Mr. L out of whatever spiraling thoughts he was disappearing into. "What does the L stand for?"

"Hmm?"

"You're Mr. L," Dimentio pointed out. "The Green Thunder. The man in green. I know all of that. But what is the L for?"

Mr. L shook his head, then looked at Dimentio, but he wasn't quite looking at him. He was looking through him. 

"I don't know," he muttered. 

He blinked a few times, then shook his head. 

Dimentio silently wondered if that was how he looked whenever he started to become lost in his own memories. 

"I know it's something," Mr. L muttered. "I know I know it. But... it's on the tip of my tongue. I just can't... it's hard to explain."

"You don't have to," Dimentio assured him. "Just forget it. Don't confuse yourself."

Mr. L blinked again, finally looking at Dimentio instead of through him. A small smile spread across his face, and he finally looked like himself. 

"It's a little late for that," he joked.