Most believed that the guilds of Ravnica High had consumed every other student organization on campus, jealousy guarding their claims and mingling as little as possible in a ten-way subcultural apartheid.
The truth, as is often the case, was a bit more complicated. Some interests were too widespread to fit cleanly under a single guild’s banner, and so some clubs became joint affairs. The Gardening Club, while nominally Selesnyan, was one of the more prominent examples. Selesnyans with window boxes traded notes with Simic students trying to build hydroponics labs in their basements, and Golgari compost enthusiasts mingled with Gruul “recreational herbalists.” The official guild affiliation meant that rather than a single head, the club had a council, which had just convened in one of the open cafeteria areas for a serious discussion.
“Are you, like, sure about this?” said Sativa, the skunk-smelling Gruul representative. Concern showing through even her chemical glaze underscored the severity of the situation.
Lalia, who would be first among equals if the Selesnya trucked with that sort of thing, smiled with all the charisma of the leader she definitely wasn’t. “I think this is a wonderful opportunity for all of us, the Dimir included. I see no reason not to welcome someone who comes to us sincerely with open arms.”
“The operative word being ‘sincerely,’” said Chloroplast, the lone unicorn-aspect among the otherwise earthen council. He shook his head. “There’s always at least three ulterior motives at work when the Dimir get involved, even if you’re just dealing with a single specimen. I just don’t see what possible reward could balance out the risk we’d take by letting her in.”
“Risk?” Sativa blinked. A few moments later, the next thought lined up. “Dude, what risk? We’re a gardening club.”
Chloroplast just boggled at her for a few moments, blurting out several verbal false starts. Lalia just coughed into a fist and didn’t make eye contact with either of them.
Ezoc gave a raspberry, dislodging a few bits of mulch that had found their way into his hair over the course of the week. This did nothing to help the smell that, while average for Golgari members, made Sativa seem downright floral in comparison. “Hey, if all else fails, we can stick her in a compost heap.”
The others stared at him.
“That was a joke.”
The stares continued.
“Really!” He crossed his arms. “Yeesh, you haze a freshman one time…”
The Gateless representative might have said something at this point, but by sheer coincidence, any vote to nominate one always ended up in a deadlock.
“So, that’s three ayes and one nay from Simic?” said Lalia. Once the others nodded, she beamed. “Then I’ll tell her the news right away.”
“I’ve actually been here the whole time,” said Wallflower Blush, who had.
Every council member flinched. “We’re going to have to put a bell on you or something,” said Ezoc.
“I get that a lot.” Wallflower took a deep breath. “Look, for the record? I really do just want to spend some time outdoors. My friends in the Ismeri Project are great, but I’m pretty sure they forgot what green even looked like before I transferred here.”
“I can believe that,” said Chloroplast. “You may even believe that. But how can we be sure?”
Wallflower shrugged. “There’s always the compost heap.”
Ezoc snickered. “Well, I like her.”