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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2013 18:55:27 GMT -8
The day was abnormally quiet, even considering the fact that an occasion for flowers for anyone was still a rarity in itself. Lili noted somewhat disappointedly that even some of her more regular customers, even the ones that would only stop in to greet her, were glaringly absent.
With a quiet huff of air, she brushes away the dust from her faded jeans, conspicuously leaving her dirt-stained apron entirely untouched by her efforts. Her task completed, she straightened her back, and looked over her work with a proud glisten in her leaf green eyes.
Lili had been so bored with the incredibly slow day she’d been having that she took the time to give the shop the scrubbing it had been needing for a while. The floors were impeccably clean and now free of the dirt that happened with the constant potting and repotting of plants. The register and the counter upon which it sat was polished enough to reflect the faces of anyone that looked into the tile. The windows were so clean one might suspect there was even glass there.
She was disappointed in herself for even allowing the shop to grow into such disarray, but it was all fixed now. Lili’s mood had improved substantially, given the content smile now plastered upon her face as she hid her broom and mop away in the back area and quickly locked it back. She wasn’t expecting a customer, and who would bother to rob a flower shop if only to steal an expensive bouquet? … not that she was so desperate for excitement she’d want a robber to invade the store.
Making a final around the shop’s interior she dubbed it clean enough for customers, and then settled herself snuggly into the fluffy-cushioned chair behind the counter. A bored sigh escaped her as she glanced back at the doorway; in vain, as the person closest to the door was neither someone she knew nor were they interested in plants.
She leaned back and sat her feet up on a box hidden under the counter desk, and with a blind grab backwards pulled a loose book away from the shelf. Like many of her books, this one was a fairy tale (“Rapunzel,” specifically), the cover well-worn, the pages partially crumpled and occasionally torn at the edge.
The book was one of her favorites. She felt it reflected her own life in some way, and thus she found herself unable to keep from getting completely immersed in the story every time she read through it. She could relate to Rapunzel… that made the book even more special.
Lili opened the book to a page marked by a tattered silken bookmark, faded blue in color and displaying years of constant use.
She smiled fondly at the fabric before removing it and placing it delicately back onto the bookshelf, safe from the edge lest it fall to the ground and get dirty. She herself comfy to read the day away until either it was time to close shop, or someone stepped in to keep her company. Whichever came first.
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 18, 2013 20:56:07 GMT -8
Winter is approaching spring. The season is touching on the next beginning of the cycle. Evenly measured and placed in every block of Sloane street, the trees stood ready to meet escape Winter’s brushes. Tall, barren, with branches as thin and dry as a gnarled crone’s finger, the redbud trees basked in the small amount of sunshine the heavens had granted for London. All days prior were gloomed by clouds; therefore, the sun’s surprise visit was rather refreshing.
At least for Donald, that is. Cloudy days, grey mornings and sleepy afternoons always spelled out a sort of dullness, promising little to be accomplished. That’s how he felt; after all he was not a native Londoner. The denizens of this city were always busy, fretting away through storm, gloom, and thunder. Through the streets they’d go, not paying the slightest attention to the tiny things such as the sunshine, the way the wind blows, and how the trees are faring. Certainly, Donald was the type to pay attention to little details, especially during strolls down the street. For one, he’d rather do that than worry and stress over trivial things such as work and life. No no, that was how the ginger differed from those who were rushing around him as he sauntered through this busy little street in his hands in the pockets of his beige pants. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was in a rush, in a hurry with a destination or a purpose in mind.
Nope. He was just out for a walk.
No intention, nothing in mind. He was enticed by a couple of the clothing and antique stores, yet he eventually found the vogue displayed in each window to be tiresome as he continued by. High fashion, ah, so monotonous, so similar in the studs, ebony leather, golden threads, designer scents, and floral prints. Lurid lights, beautiful advertisements, gilded handles, and open glass doors—all of which was too inviting to be attractive to him. Although he was a man of good taste in fashion, he decided not to dawdle in such stores today. The sun was out, time to try something different.
With that, he noticed something… off. A flower shop? My, it did not seem to fit with the glamour that is emitted from the street. Rather, it radiated with a sort of humbleness, a nostalgic hint of purity and innocence. Pots of fresh, resplendent flowers were set in front of the large rectangular window, where one can peer in and see the main counter to the side. Surely, though, no one would ever steal flowers. Yet if one were to fondle the petals, the owner would most likely see it.
However, in this case, the logic was reversed; he was able to see the owner. A petite young lady with short blonde hair placed a book back into the bookshelf. Ahh, she was cute. He had his eye on her for a moment until he invited himself in, grabbing a nearby stargazer lily as he entered through the open door.
“A beautiful shop.” He said casually after he caught the young owner’s attention. Still at somewhat at a distance from her, Donald turned to the side to place the lily to embellish a pre-made bouquet. “Refreshin’, vibrant, invitin’. There’s a charm, a ring te this place.”
“But you, Miss, ah—I see tha’ this shop reflects its owner. Yer as cute as a button, that ye are.” Donald gave her a suave grin as a slight chuckle. “I promise not te loiter, Miss. But if I may have yer name I’ll leave with some flowers as a happy man.”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 18, 2013 23:11:29 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together Lili, completely engrossed in her book, scarcely noticed the passing shadowed that danced through her peripheral, much too familiar with them to notice the one that stopped in front of the window. Completely comfy in her own little world, it was also as if she briefly forgot where she was.
So, as she sat there reveling in the quiet and peace, and as she turned the page of her book and began to read the top line, the abrupt and loud jingle of the bell at the door caused her to jumped with a small, startled squeak! Footsteps! In a swift movement, fueled by panic – she shouldn’t be lazing about, not when someone comes into the store! – she pulled the ribbon back into the book from its spot on the shelf and closed the pages around with.
She replaced the book back into its position and twirled herself back to face the counter, one arm laid over the tiled surface while the other covered her mouth as she sneezed lightly. “S-sorry about that!” she stammered. “Welcome to the Flower Pot! I hope you weren’t in a hurry.”
Surely not, she suddenly thought, as she greeted him with her eyes and listened as he complimented the shop. A smile lit up on her face, almost prideful of the work she’d just finished only just before he arrived.
“Refreshin’, vibrant, invitin’. There’s a charm, a ring te this place.” He continued, and then Lili noticed the man had removed one of her flowers from its pot, and had carried it with him into the shop. Her eyes narrowed, irritated, and her mouth opened to berate him, but he lightly placed the flower among other unrelated blossoms. It was pretty clear he had no real grasp of theory as the gradient colors of white to magenta clashed fiercely with their neighbors.
But no matter, it could be fixed. It wasn’t the first time someone thought they’d help with arranging. She didn’t mind it, really! It was just the colors!
“But you, Miss, ah—I see tha’ this shop reflects its owner. Yer as cute as a button, that ye are.” |
[/b] The blush that tinted her cheeks was very reminiscent of the deep heart of the stargazer he had picked up. Lili wanted to hide her face out of shyness, but discouraged herself from doing so. Instead, she responded with a bigger smile than before, and a little laugh as he flashed that grin confidently at her. “I promise not te loiter, Miss. But if I may have yer name I’ll leave with some flowers as a happy man.”[/b] She had to admit, there was a charm to his mannerisms, not to mention the fact he had just stepped into a flower shop. She propped her head up on her arm, hand cleverly positioned to mask at least half of her flustered face. She almost struggled to get out a response as her voice hitched and stalled. “I, uh.. Is-- Is this what you do on your free days?” Lili asked, her smile only growing as she threw out her silly tease. “Invade quiet little shops and leave us poor shopkeepers speechless?”Goodness, she wasn’t clever at all. “Lili.” She quickly gestured with her eyes towards the stargazer he had discarded a moment earlier. “Like that flower.”She’d have to fix that later. It was going to bug her for a very long time if she didn’t. In fact, part of her was tempted to fix it right at that moment, but how rude would that be? Very. She couldn’t do that and feel good about herself! Her green eyes focused back on him, looking over him briefly before speaking a second time. The thing that caught her attention and stood out the most was how beautifully and elegantly his eyes and hair went together – a gorgeous complement of red and green. Colors that complemented each other fascinated her, especially in people. A pair of pretty eyes framed by equally pretty hair were a difficult team to ignore, indeed. “Might I ask for your name, sir?” Lili asked, finally sitting up straight in her chair to appear more professional. [/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 19, 2013 16:08:35 GMT -8
Because she had sneezed, Donald had to say ‘bless ye’ before anything else. It was a automatic gesture of courtesy of course. It was a simple response out of decorum as how he was taught since childhood.
When he spoke of the flowershop and its attractive attributes, Donald had paid some attention to the young store keeper’s reaction. Flustered at first,—ah, then sudden irritation? Yes why, it was irritation, which was clearly reflected in her hazel* eyes. Strange and curious how her eyes flickered, changing shades of emotion in an instant! That countenance bellied her petite stature, such strength and intensity. It must have been because of the lily he had set in the bouquet. In truth, he was no florist; neither did he spend much time arranging flowers together. He knew very little about flowers other than a few of its meanings and symbols and which floras complement each other the best.
Yet he was the type to relish in the sight of pretty things being with other pretty things. Beauty, of course, is abstract—taken from any angle of sight, of thought, and of inner perception. And Donald had always paid attention to it. By whim, he had done this simply because he thought it would be beautiful.
However, to be frank, the stargazer lily, soft blue*to the white of its tip, looked like the anomaly in this bouquet due to its shape, not its color. It was the shape—it looked like a freckled star; it had a quirky charm, a profound cheekiness in the midst of its elegance neighbors. To a typical bystander, one would notice the lily first upon first glance, for it is nestled in the middle of the arrangement, surrounded by smaller buds and snowdrops. But that was precisely his intention—to make the lily stand out, adding a little of something different to this bouquet—that eccentricity, that exuberance, that character to an otherwise simple, lovely arrangement. But pray that the colors are is nice and complementary in her eyes as it was in his eyes. Colorblindness had its faults and weaknesses.
Then she flushed, some color brushed florid on her cheeks. And back came the demureness. After that she smiled, a sweet smile and granted him the chime that was her soft laughter. His emerald eyes were full of mirth, twinkling as he grinned toothily. Surely he had not been forgiven for what he did, yet he was pleased to an extent that it did not empower her other emotions.
“I, uh.. Is-- Is this what you do on your free days? Invade quiet little shops and leave us poor shopkeepers speechless?”
A daring attempt! Donald chuckled at her quip, though her tease was a slight stammer it still had the sting of a confident one. It fit her nature. Pleasantly surprised, he lifted up both of his hands as if to admit defeat, briefly glancing down before back at her as he feigned embarrassment, “Ye’ve caught me red-handed—or blue-handed, caen’t tell! Ye figured me out, ah much faster than I had expected. I admit it, ‘tis a sorrey pastime of mine.”
He lowered his hands, still in good humor as he fixed the collar of his dress shirt. “I certainly hope ye’d forgive me intrusion and me heinous act of makin’ ye speechless. In mae defense how’ver, I had te make it even—first look upon ye and I had trouble speakin’ meself.”
Then she introduced herself.
“Lili,” Donald repeated after her as he nodded—of course, of course. Lili, her name, a flower, pretty, dainty and feminine, was working in a flower shop. Of course it made sense, it fit as if she was a crafted character of a book. Alluring, but she seemed to not possess the frailty as a typical flower. No, not quite, she had a hidden quirkiness, a subtle coyness that made her as unique as the lily in the bouquet. “Lovely name.”
He approached her casually as he reached out a hand, fingers stretched out just slightly, to give her a gentle and friendly handshake. “They call me Donald. Donald, Don, or Donny, Miss Lili. Ye may call me anythin’ ye like. It’s a pleasure te meet you. And as I promised…”
The ginger tilted his head towards the bouquet, suggesting her to focus her attention to that bouquet. “I would like te buy that fer any price ye’d like.” |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2013 18:02:14 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together Lili would have agreed heartily with his unspoken opinion of beauty. Flowers in all shapes and colors were things to be regarded naturally as pretty, embodying the greatest essence of beauty in themselves. But then Lili couldn’t simply shove a random assortment of flowers together in a collection and call them a sight worth fawning over. On their own each flower was a significant piece of the puzzle, but just like any jigsaw one would need the right pieces to form the end picture.
The lily, beautiful in its own right, occupied the center space much like a piece would if it were taken from an entirely different box and then placed randomly on the surface of a completely unrelated, finished puzzle… or that was the way she interpreted the art. Credit for effort were credit is due, she silently mused.
Bouquet aside, the current item of interest in the shop was himself. The hair and eyes alone were enough to optically please her, but she found the rest of him just as lovely. He was fairly tall (though it wasn’t difficult to be impressively tall to Lili, who stood at barely five feet herself), his clothes neat and proper – a professionally executed combination of casual and formal, she would note later as he drew attention to his temporarily messy collar. The colors seemed earthy and almost entirely too fitting for this visit to the shop, a realization which caused her smile to brighten considerably. He could almost be a flower himself, but even comparing him to one would surely demolish his masculinity. We couldn’t have that, could we?
This man seemed to have unparalleled self-confidence if he could waltz into the store on a whim and flirt with the keeper unrehearsed. Even if Lili were immune to shyness she’d find him quite charming, funny even. From his semi-mocking inflection, to the accent that accompanied it (Irish, was it? It was not the English she normally heard on the street, make no doubt about that), he was incredibly fun to listen to, with a smooth voice that almost made up for the atrocious crime of color-murder.
“Ye’ve caught me red-handed—or blue-handed, caen’t tell! Ye figured me out, ah much faster than I had expected. I admit it, ‘tis a sorrey pastime of mine.” |
[/b] The mention of ‘blue-handed’ caught her off-guard, admitting his inability to detect color. Lili was not sure if he literally meant he couldn’t tell colors from one another or if he was merely commenting on his inability to create a passable arrangement. Either way, the response prompted a laugh. “I certainly hope ye’d forgive me intrusion and me heinous act of makin’ ye speechless. In mae defense how’ver, I had te make it even—first look upon ye and I had trouble speakin’ meself.”Lili’s returning smile grew much more sheepish as her eyes darted elsewhere, but only for a moment! She couldn’t take her attention away from him, not in mid-conversation like that. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Lili’s voice struggled to stay steady through her grin, thoroughly entertained by his acting. “You are forgiven. You’ve definitely made my day brighter.”It wasn’t a lie. She might have gone the rest of the day being bored if not for his sudden appearance. He complimented her name, and she nodded her head and thanked him. Sometimes she thought it was almost too fitting for her life, and then she would wonder if it shaped her somehow. She loved what she did, as if everything in her life had fallen perfectly into place, much like the jigsaw puzzle that governed her style of flower arranging. He approached her, holding his hand out for a proper introduction, and at this point she was able to just barely make out the light freckles that dotted his cheeks, adding yet another touch of uniqueness to his figure (and reminding her of the stargazer lily he had picked up – how oddly fitting.) Lili lifted her hand to return the handshake, the hand itself riddled with small cuts and pricks from the many artful hobbies she subjected it to. “They call me Donald. Donald, Don, or Donny, Miss Lili. Ye may call me anythin’ ye like. It’s a pleasure te meet you. And as I promised…[/b]” Donny gestured towards the bouquet he skillfully finished himself with a flick of his head. The addition of the lily would have upped the price a fair bit, but Lili was in an extremely good mood. He’d paid enough with his words and compliments, and even with his name. She slowly removed her hand from his and stood up to examine the arrangement’s contents, supporting herself on the counter. Quickly mulling over the flowers in the arrangement, she rang up the price. “Anything I want?” She sat herself back down in her chair, eyes looking back up into his face with a slyness to them. “I could horrendously overcharge you, Mr. Donny… but I think I enjoyed your visit too much for that.”[/b] The number flashed on the register. “Your total comes to £19.99.” She recited.[/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 20, 2013 17:26:28 GMT -8
Forgiven? And she said her day was brightened! Well, well, what a response! Such lovely words were like an angel’s hymn to his ears. The sight of her delightful smile made him feel uplifted with a buoyant spirit, as if God had reached down from the heavens to give him a nice pat on the back. In all seriousness, nothing had ever pleased him more than seeing the felicity of a lady. Under the unspoken oath of the gentleman’s creed, he simply enjoyed doing this to give his environment and its denizens a little more positivity.
“Praise th’ Lord, Miss Lili fer ye sweet mindfulness n’ mercy. Fear was in th’ hart wen’ I thought that such deeds wold go unforgiven." To further his act, Donald pat his chest, over his heart twice before he bowed ever so slightly. “But truly I am honored te ‘ve been able te brighten ye day. Not many does th’ sun shine upon London, but when it does I make sure te spread its good news.”
Donald then firmly shook her hand, sturdily but comfortably, even-paced, and warm with camaraderie. A good handshake is essential to every good introduction, after all. With her delicate hand, he made sure to give it extra care. Briefly, his sights were on her of course, at the jewels that were her eyes. It was a color of hazel, but then again many colors in the spectrum were of a hazel-like shade to him. But it was not the just the color that was captivating, but it was the intensity it emitted. Humble, yet confident—a curious mixture of opposite but positive attributes. Indeed she was not an easy read. Then again, he would not have it any other way. It was, indeed, attractive because of this mystique.
And so he had to take the moment to take himself away from those eyes, only to briefly gander down at her hand. On her hand were cuts of sorts and some dry areas. One can only wonder why that is there—perhaps a normal person would occupy a couple of awkward seconds to figure out why. For Donald however, he already had a clue. First of all, she was a florist, one that would cut the thorns of roses and tie lace around the roughness of stems. But certainly one as professional as Lili would not be so clumsy by pricking herself with many thorns. If anything, the appearance of her hand from this angle only insinuated other hands-on hobbies; either that or she had gotten into some sort of accident. The former seemed more of an appealing assumption. Because the chemical reactions that result in intense thought works so quickly, Donald already knew what to say and do to turn this to a social tide in brief milliseconds.
Still holding her hand, he gently turned her fair hand supinely and then lifted it up so that it is at the same level as her chin. If he could, he would’ve swept down and give the hand a proper kiss. Instead, he commented, “Ah, an artist’s hand, is tha’ right? Ye must have many talents.”
He slightly leaned against the counter as he watched her check the price, his side pressed against the vertical wooden surface. The man rested his arm on the flat topside of the counter, feeling ever-more relaxed and comfortable in this setting. If there was another thing he could praise Lili for, it was making other people feel welcomed to this shop. She seemed very sociable, very easy to talk to, which might had been the reason why this little shop has gotten its place on this street. How he admired that.
His train of thought dissipated once he caught her surprisingly sly look before she spoke of overcharging him. He had to stifle his mirth; she was full of surprises. When she sauntered back to her seat, he took his weight back to his feet, standing up straight and facing her. Instead he laughed with his eyes and then rubbed his chin, feeling a flush of delight peppered on his cheeks. “Certainly, is tha’ so? Oh goodness how lucky am I te visit at th’ right time te catch ye in such good spirits an’ not be overcharged. Heavens forsake th’ thought of me bein’ ‘ere durin’ a full house*.” Donald give her a quick nod as he took out his wallet to give her twenty pounds, “Though th’ pleasure is all mine, lass. Now if ye wold, befo’ I take tha lovely arrangement of yer hands, I’d like te ask ye a favor. A teensy one, I promise it won’ be a burden.”
Casually, he walked over to a rose bouquet and then gently brushed his thumb on its petals for just a second. He tilted his head at it slightly as he rubbed his chin once more before glancing at Lili.
“What would ye say is yer favorite flower or arrangement? Girls are—ah—tricky with flowers n’ I want te know the right ones te give becaus’ I want these te be special.” |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2013 21:26:19 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together “Praise th’ Lord, Miss Lili fer ye sweet mindfulness n’ mercy. Fear was in th’ hart wen’ I thought that such deeds wold go unforgiven." To further his act, Donald pat his chest, over his heart twice before he bowed ever so slightly. “But truly I am honored te ‘ve been able te brighten ye day. Not many does th’ sun shine upon London, but when it does I make sure te spread its good news.” |
[/I] Donald spoke as if he were reciting a passage from a play. In fact, their entire conversation, or at least his half of it, seemed to mimic a stage actor. Not that she was complaining or anything, his way of speaking thoroughly amused her. Especially interesting was how his hands moved and flowed with everything he said. Each gesture carried with it the same amount of emotion and feeling as every word he spoke. They moved as if directing onlookers to continue paying attention. So animated was he that she was almost distracted from his speaking. Luckily, his beautifully green eyes and bright hair managed to distract her right back, handsome as they were. “You’re very lucky indeed!” Lili’s expression faked sternness, eyes narrowed as if attempting to punish him simply with a look. “If I were in a worse mood I’d have tossed you out myself!”[/b] And with that, she took his hand, quietly admiring the good-natured strength with which he held it. For someone who initially struck her as a man simply stepping in for a quick flirt, he was incredibly social. She enjoyed it and savored the contact. The stunning emerald in his eyes caught her attention again as he lift her hand up, almost as if he were about to kiss it; Lili briefly held her breath as he spoke. “Ah, an artist’s hand, is tha’ right? Ye must have many talents.”“Talents? Oh no—I wouldn’t call them talents!”[/b] Lili’s laugh wavered nervously and she pulled her hand back. She didn’t expect him to examine her hand! The healed wounds were mostly invisible. He couldn’t color scheme a bouquet but his attention to detail was astounding. “Hobbies. I embroider and sew in my free time.”[/b] Lili admitted, cheeks tinting pink. “Sometimes here, on slow days.”[/b] Or books. Books too. But he probably noticed that right when he walked in, as she struggled to hide her beloved book out of sight. The awkwardness she felt was almost immediately gone when he regained his casual composure, his body relaxing and leaning on the counter, quiet. It was a dramatic chance from his demeanor when entering the store, peacefully joking back and forth as if she’d known him for ages. What compliment he could give her regarding her social nature she could easily give back. His cheerful mood was contagious! “What would ye say is yer favorite flower or arrangement? Girls are—ah—tricky with flowers n’ I want te know the right ones te give becaus’ I want these te be special.”[/I] Her head tilted ever so slightly, almost confused by his question. It wasn’t hard to understand, but she still had to question it. “Now what would you ask that? My favorite wouldn’t be the same as everyone else’s.”[/b] But she would humor him - or attempt to, at least. But still, her favorite flower? That was easier than trying to tell him a specific arrangement, but like each arrangement had its own beauty she could say the same thing about flowers. Difficult choice indeed. She couldn’t simply point it out with a finger, no. Her favorite needed to be acknowledged directly. She stood up and cheerfully made her way across the store to the opposite wall, close to the window. Hidden in the corner were a pair of large white pots, grapevines painted across the outsidem, and within the pots stood tall plants topped with large, orange flowers. “Lilium bulbiferum.”[/b] Lili recited. “That’s the scientific name—have you noticed a pattern, yet?”[/b] Her love of the flowers would either be endearing or creepy, but she couldn’t deny what she liked. “My old home has many beautiful flowers. I like this one, but I’m also fond of the alpine rose.”[/b] She lightly brushed the fiery petals of one of the orange lilies, then pushed the pots closer. The flowers had leaned forward into the window, reaching out for the light of the sun whose rays they mimicked. “I’m not sure if men usually have favorite flowers, but do you?”[/b] Lili asked, turning back to him curiously. [/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 28, 2013 22:25:49 GMT -8
Hah! Donald was absolutely enthralled by this girl! His grin couldn’t get any wider, his complexion glowed by how amused he was feeling. The way she feigned sternness was right on the mark, done so naturally on cue without a hint of hesitation. Why, he felt as if he had known her for so long judging by the way they were interacting. Her character was definitely an endearing one, outside and in. Not often had he met a girl could relay the quips back and forth like a game. Most of the time, they gave him sheepish laughter and perhaps a few nervous comebacks or two.
But Lili was fantastic in her own right, magnetizing, sweet, and sociable. It was terribly hard to think of not coming back just to talk to her. In fact, the thought hadn’t crossed his mind one bit. He was already a hundred percent sure he was going to see her again. In that sense, he would admit feeling even more attracted to her. Lili had the face, but she also had the substance. My, ‘lucky’ was the right word.
“Well, well! Talent, cleverness, and good-humor—not te mention yer gorgeous. Ah bless me, Miss Lili, yer simply one-of-a-kind. I mus’ admit, ye’ve got the debonairness of an actress."He complimented naturally .
“Aye, slow days eh…? Ah, the tans—the Londoners—usually forget te stop and smell th’roses instead of workin’ so hard. They don’t know what they’re missin’. Th’ experience ‘ere is grand!”
Under his off-hand comment hatched an idea. An idea from an idea. Inwardly preening, Donald fixed his collar as a way of silently patting his back. Gentleman’s creed.
“Now what would you ask that? My favorite wouldn’t be the same as everyone else’s.”
“Good question.” Donald replied as if that had been rehearsed. “I trust ye judgment better than mine. These eyes see very wee on th’ color spectrum.”
Of course, the lilies. Yes---oh no, he knew that lily far, far too well. Much, much too well. He felt something sink in him after the memory prodded on the back of his mind like a rusty nail. It was best to move that thought aside however. Merely a coincidence was all.
“Yes—t’ Tiger Lily. Ha, o’course th’ pattern! A lily for a Lili. Goodness, unfortunately thar’ are no ‘Donald’ flowers—but I’ll be on the look-out should it te appear. How does that sound?” he joked and then gave pause to pave way to a less frivolous response. “ “Ah, I see. Marvelous. Ye’ve got good taste. Are there perhaps any other lilies yer fond of perhaps?”
Donald stared at the lilies in the pot, feeling his mind dip into a cold pool of memories. Colors meant very little, but he was able to distinguish the color of that particular flower very, very well. When she pushed it a little closer, he stood before it and gently rubbed his finger against the velvety texture of the petal. Of course.
“I do actually—I used te love Tiger lilies.” He began, deeply concentrated on the flower as if he was enchanted by its appearance. “It’s like a small hand o’ fire. It has color that’s so vibrant, it’s unforgettable.”
He straightened up, still donning a look of ease despite feeling a mixture of conflicted feelings inside. The man turned his attention to her and her lovely form. Those eyes were so humble, yet he could feel as if they were peering into his soul. That was the one place he wouldn’t want anybody—even God Himself—to look at.
“ “But,” Donald chimed, snapping out of his reverie on a cheerful note, “ “I do ‘ave a new favorite flower. It’s smaller, more stylish. Matches the generation eh? Everythin’s been getting’ smaller n’ sleeker—the smart phones, by God—granted th’ new iphone’s getting’ longer but ah who ahm I kiddin’. Also ‘scuse me I’m no expert florist.”
Now to remember the name to sound impressive…
“Th’---erm I hope I’m sayin’ this right but the Ornitho—Orthinae…” Clearing his throat once, he continued,
“The Star of Bethlehem is th’ more... memorable n’ more user-friendly name. In orange or white. Usually orange—that’s m’favorite color. Er—why? Derno. Somehow that flower had always followed me ‘round wherever I went. Strange coincidences—fate, maybe, if ye believe in ‘em.”
Donald chuckled to push away the unnecessary feelings from inside. He wasn’t going to let that run him out of the chance of having a normal conversation with her. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 29, 2013 14:21:24 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together Her cheeks ached from the continuous grinning, and the blushing didn’t help one bit. This man would be the death of her intentionally or not! What a day this had been. She couldn’t even begin to rationalize the past half-hour with any sort of coherence. He was charming, make no doubt about that, and unbelievably funny. With only a few exceptions, his flirting wasn’t so blatant as to be creepy or embarrassing, but instead were laced with enough mirth and jokes to allow Lili a chance to prod back at him herself.
This conversation was almost perfect.
“Oh no, stop it, stop it…!” Agh, again with the compliments! It was one thing to play back and forth melodramatically, but goodness! Making her blush like this was utterly cruel! She covered her burning cheeks and rubbed at them. She was smiling, of course; though embarrassed she was still having quite a wonderful time with him. “I could say the same about you. That’s a funny thing to hear coming from a man who sounds and acts like he should be in a play.”
Stop and smell the flowers. Hah, she laughed at the one, too. Stupidly, perhaps, but the idiom was much too fitting – that look on his face, he knew that pun was clever too!
Lili had to escape this! A few syllables of laughter escaped her as he complimented the shop’s apparently lively interior. “You’re the life of this party, you know. Come back a few times more and maybe people will start thinking this store is interesting.”
Hopefully visits appropriately timed. She’d hate to have to ignore him to take care of a customer or— or even worse, she’d hate for him to show up at a time when Vash might even drop by.
“I trust ye judgment better than mine. These eyes see very wee on th’ color spectrum.” He admitted.
Oh. Ooooh. That… well, hm. That explained a few things. Lili felt bad about her rude inner comment earlier about his color-stupidity. She didn’t say it aloud but… urgh, that was still awfully uncalled for.
“Well, yes. That would make sense… but I sure can’t speak for everyone.” Pick a flower that matches the one you want to gift them to, right? She imagined that must be pretty difficult if his color spectrum was messed up. She certainly wouldn’t be able to do her job at all if she couldn’t see well either, and would perhaps be doing something more boring. And oh no, if that were true this day would never have happened!
So she told him what she liked.
She examined her flower at the window, but Donny’s reaction didn’t exactly… sound favorable. She turned, studied his face: He was trying, but there was a faltering in his voice, like a mix of emotions struggling for dominance, while still fighting to retain its earlier composure. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d said or done to prompt it, but that worried her.
“Well ah—I picked this one out because it’s a flower that reminds me of my heritage. I don’t remember it, but it’s still… part of me.” She attempted to elaborate, fondly tending the plant with a hand, checking it for any sort of blemish or wound. “If I had I choose another, it would be... Lilium iridollae."
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[/b] She immediately ran back by him to the window opposite the tiger lilies, and scooted into view another pot of similar plants. These, however, were colored with a vivid golden color freckled generously with grown spots. "I like these because their name is adorable-- the pot-o-gold lily."[/b] She explained excitedly, pushing the pot a little more to get the flowers into the sun. "It's an American variety."[/b] "…I must sound silly, don’t I? Too many lilies. Much too many.” She tried to laugh that off unsuccessfully. He loved talking about them but this was her helping him! Not her talking about her hobbies. “I do actually—I used te love Tiger lilies. It’s like a small hand o’ fire. It has color that’s so vibrant, it’s unforgettable.”“I agree!” Lili chirped. That was one of the reasons she loved the colorful lilies the best – they were bright, vibrate! They had color! But Donald’s tone of voice made her a little wary of raving about them. His face though… his voice and the slight wavering of its mood made it clear that there was something off, but his face was still calm as if nothing had happened. Her head unconsciously tilted slightly in confusion, but she shook away the worry when he began to speak of a new flower. “I do ‘ave a new favorite flower. It’s smaller, more stylish. Matches the generation eh? Everythin’s been getting’ smaller n’ sleeker—the smart phones, by God—granted th’ new iphone’s getting’ longer but ah who ahm I kiddin’. Also ‘scuse me I’m no expert florist.” He could become one if he hung around long enough, he had yet to see Lili go on a real tangent about anything floral. Well, maybe not until today. He attempted to recite the scientific name, but didn’t quite have it down. His effort was endearing nonetheless. Other people would have tried in vain to describe a flower they didn’t know, but ah! Donald actually knew both the “user-friendly” name and the binomial nomenclature that categorized it—to a point, of course. But she had a feeling she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Orange?”[/b] Lili repeated. “Orange, orange…”[/b] Hmm.. Didn’t she have that in a book somewhere? She was sure she did. The name was familiar, she was sure she had a species in the shop, or did at one point. They were a broad group, and many had different blooming patterns. Wordlessly she slid back over to her bookshelf and pressed a finger against the book titles, pondering the contents of each one. Finally, her eyes found the one she was looking for. Grasping the worn spine with her fingers, she pulled the dusty tome from its neighbors and flipped it open on her counter. “Ornithogalum, I believe?”[/b] Lili was skimming the pages in bulk, searching keenly for the giant ‘O’ that marked the scientific name. “Ornithogalum, but I’m not quite sure what species…”[/b] She mouthed a name silently with each page turn. Abyssincum, baeticum, cuspidatum… dubium. The species labeled dubium was bright orange in color, with flowers clustered closely together around a thick pear of leaves. Perhaps this was the one he was talking about? It didn’t match any of the species’ she might have had in the shop – usually Stars-of-Bethlehem were white save the exceptions of certain species. “This one I think.” But her voice was so soft one might be unaware she was even speaking to them. She pointed to the specific name at the top of the page and recited the description. “Ornithogalum dubium, the Sun Star. A spring flower--“[/b] They’d be flowering this season if she’d planted any. Shoot! Still, they were lovely little flowers; numerous, fiery, not unlike the color of the lily in the corner of the store. She made a mental note to purchase bulbs and try again next year, but as she did so she froze and glanced back upward at Donald, her expression tinted pink through her embarrassed smile. “Sorry, I got a little carried away.”[/b] [/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Jan 30, 2013 9:27:52 GMT -8
Donald chuckled to her fit of blushes, deciding that he should tone down the compliments for her sake. He would admit that he enjoyed seeing her flattered very much yet he did not want to push it out of the charming limits. The man was sure that if he were to continue, she might think of his lines only as playful teasing. Though that was true, all of the words he had spoken thus far were straight from the heart. He was an honest man for the most part.
”Me? An actor? Haha! Yes, once, long ago durin’ th’golden high school years‘fore th’ decided te kick me out fer bein’ te ‘into’ in addition te' wisemouthin' against the lout of a teach'. But I suppose I caen be an actor eh?"
Donald straightened himself up, looking astute with an enigmatic, serious expression. He mechanically adjusted his collar with a quick tug as he stared at Lili. With his best, convincing English accent, he recited in a suave, tenor voice,
"The name is Bond. James Bond. I'll have it shaken, darling, not stirred."
And then he dropped the act by making an enormous silly grin that spread from cheek to cheek. The ginger was trying so hard to not laugh at himself because he hated speaking with the English accent. It sounded ridiculously stuck-up to him, which was probably why he had always bullied Arthur so much. "Sorry I doen think I do tha' often," He exclaimed, shaking with mirth, "Well, well! Thank ye! I'd like te think I am in thi' blasted city! Ah I promise tha' I will, Miss Lili. If ye ever need an extra hand er two', I'd be glad ter help out too."
If it meant he was going to be able to see her often, Donald was 100% confident he was going to be able to reserve some time for her. As of late, all he had been doing was wander around London by foot or cab since he had chosen not to drive. Sometimes he spent his days around the pier with the fishermen in the sea-salted air, but hanging around men did get tiresome sometimes. Men - such burly and boorish creatures, not nearly as delighful and graceful than women. Well, most women, that is. A certain twin he knew was anything but those two things - to him, at least. At any rate he'd feel so much more complete and productive if he could help a lady or two with any sort of burdens. There was he, secretly hoping she'd be alright with it and not rule him out as someone creepy.
"Well, yes. That would make sense... but I sure can't speak for everyone." Then she went on.
"Well ah--I picked this one out because it's a flower that reminds me of my heritage. I don't remember it, but it's still... part of me."
In that case, he couldn't blame her. No actually, he wouldn't be able to blame anyone even if he tried. It was his fault that he had been weak enough to be sensitive to that flower. Nonetheless, he masked such feelings of animosity towards the flower by revealing a small smile.
"Tha's a beautiful reason. Though erm 'm not all that good wit' those sciency names y'see. It was some serta miracle I remembered th'star flower."
He observed her which consequently turned his attention to another flower. It was a strange yet quirky little lily that drooped downward, its petals curled in as if someone peeled it backwards.
"Pot-o-gold, y'say?" The man asked, feeling that bit of Irish in him perk up. It was impossible for him to not be a bit excited in anything that somhow relates to his culture. "Ye don't sound silly at all. It's charmin' how passionate ye are 'bout lillies n' flowers in general. Somebody has got te nurse n' adore them. Otherwise th'world would be a lot less colorful, yea?"
Ironic, coming from a colorblind man. It was true from his heart nonetheless. Donald had read countless of novels that had vivid description of flowers and nature. They exist, as he was told, in so many shades, hues and variations of colors he could never, ever see as long as he could live. The sky, they say, is blue - soft, buoyant and relaxing - like the ocean too. The grass is green, a chipper color, supposedly. Sometimes the authors linked colors to emotions too - something he sadly could never really get a grasp on. Most of all, writers of all centuries wrote about the resplendence of flowers. They beautifully explained the majesty of tertiary colors, complementing colors of all sorts that exist to appeal to the human senses. In addition, those love stories - ah, 'emerald' green eyes, what was that really?
He envied those who could see but he was not bothered by it. It just showed that there will always be something in life that one cannot attain that everyone else can have and take for granted. With that in mind, he relished in the capabilities he had rather than find sorrow in his incapabilities.
"Well then!" Donald clapped his hands together to add a little more energy to himself. "Those ar' such charmin' flowers - since I'm Irish I adore this whole 'pot-o-luck-leprechaun' thing, I mean its the common stereotype, yeah! If ye doen mind, I'd like te buy that."
After a bit of small talk, Lili decided to bring out a large and hefty book of what he presumed was about flowers. Donald rested his arm againt the counter looking down at the book probably as an excuse to get a little closer to Lili.
"Ahh, that's it, that's it." He chimed with a short nod after recognizing the picture. "Very nice, it is. Keeps me at peace, y'see. Quite. Quite lovely..."
Nostalgia. His eyes were shrouded with a slight fog of gloom as he looked at the picture of the flower from the angle. So many memories could be drawn out from just a simple picture. Belying his emotions, he let out a short, stifled laugh out of no where, his eyes crinkling with a false sense of delight. "Sorre' I tend te find meself dozed off at times. This flower just reminds me o'much."
"Sorry, I got a little carried away."
He blinked.
Then he laughed.
"Not at all!" The ginger assured in between his laughter.
"'ts nice te see someone else do that. I love it when a person speaks wit' passion, wit' emotion. It's genuine, it's glorious. So please, doen hesitate te speak wot ye will. I find it very lovely--thank ye fer sharin' this wit' piece of knowledge wit' me."
| Notes: xxx ♣
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Post by Deleted on Jan 30, 2013 15:34:46 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together Thank God, he noticed her distress and granted her a brief respite from smiling.
She rubbed at her cheeks again, the last vestiges of laughter finally leaving her in peace, allowing her to compose herself fully and clear her throat as if nothing happened. “You didn’t see that at all.”
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[/b] She demanded awkwardly, faking that same stern expression she’d had moments ago. Oh, but she couldn’t hold it for long. He was far too skilled at this kind of thing to leave her smile-less for long. ”Me? An actor? Haha! Yes, once, long ago durin’ th’golden high school years‘fore th’ decided te kick me out fer bein’ te ‘into’ in addition te' wisemouthin' against the lout of a teach'. But I suppose I caen be an actor eh?" Kicked out? Really? Sounded like he had a story to tell, but later. If he wasn’t going to elaborate she wasn’t going to pry. Instead, he pulled himself up tall, straightened himself, both face and voice remolded into a more serious version of themselves – and then that’s when he impressed her, mimicking the Bond voice with incredible perfection. And then, just as soon as he began, he dropped the mimicry and became Donald again, grinning that grin again and looking as if his composure was threatening to collapse on itself from a need to laugh. He was succeeding, but just barely. He looked as if he was about the split his face open from smiling too hard. “Oh wow…”[/b]Lili gaped, whistling softly. “I’m impressed. Your accent’s so thick and you can just make it disappear like that...”[/b] Well, anyone could do that with practice, she was sure. She knew that well enough anyway… she thought her English accent was pretty darn good, even if it still sounded vaguely Swiss! “Don’t apologize, you sounded very convincing.”[/b] If he’d gone into the store like that she might have believed him. It wasn’t as if English was her first language, what did she know about accents? All she knew was that his was different to the point it was also difficult to understand him sometimes. "Well, well! Thank ye! I'd like te think I am in thi' blasted city! Ah I promise tha' I will, Miss Lili. If ye ever need an extra hand er two', I'd be glad ter help out too."[/I] Lili perked up at the thought of help around the store. She was really the only person that ran the place and, to be honest, it got a little dull sometimes. Even better, the prospect of company she could talk to and enjoy conversing with! The very thought made her giddy on the inside, and even though he couldn’t see it the thought made her heart flutter happily. “Oh wow—really? I mean, wow—yes! I’d love the help, actually! It gets really quiet sometimes. Consistent company would be lovely.” [/b] Lili was also speechless he’d even offer. How many people, men even, offered to help around with flowers of all things? They weren’t the manliest things on the planet. She didn’t mind, though. She so enjoyed his company this day he was perfectly welcome back any time he wanted, even if only to chat. "Tha's a beautiful reason. Though erm 'm not all that good wit' those sciency names y'see. It was some serta miracle I remembered th'star flower."[/I] He smiled. It looked a little more genuine, this time; less forced. Inwardly, Lili was relieved the small bit of tension dissipated before it had the chance to grow. “It takes a lot of practice, you were on the right track! You had those first syllables nailed!” [/b] Lili encouraged. At least he tried, and trying was all that mattered! … in flowers! “Maybe next spring I’ll be able to have some in stock. I could order some now and try to force them to bloom, but I’d be afraid of ruining them…”[/b] Risky business, that was. She didn’t like forcing bulbs to grow. Felt unnatural and awful. “Pot-o-gold, yes.”[/b] She’d hoped he’d like that. It was a cute little name, and the way her perked up at the mention of it was just as adorable. “It’s that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. That’s what the name was intended to be.” [/b] She cupped one of the flowers gentle in one of her open hand and lifted it ever so slightly, as if trying to get a good look at a down-turned face. “The first time I saw them, I thought they were such sad-looking flowers. They were always drooped over, staring at the ground, as if they were depressed. I learned their name and then I thought maybe they’re just humble or shy.” [/b] "Ye don't sound silly at all. It's charmin' how passionate ye are 'bout lillies n' flowers in general. Somebody has got te nurse n' adore them. Otherwise th'world would be a lot less colorful, yea?"[/I] Lili removed her hand and stood back up straight, nodding in agreement. “That’s part of why I miss the mountains. The city can get so grey. At least here we have a little corner of the rainbow, right?”[/b] Grey streets, grey buildings, even grey clouds. Sometimes, this city was downright monotone. “I’d get pretty sad without colors like this, I think.” [/b] "Well then! Those ar' such charmin' flowers - since I'm Irish I adore this whole 'pot-o-luck-leprechaun' thing, I mean its the common stereotype, yeah! If ye doen mind, I'd like te buy that."Ah, he was Irish! Lili had a sneaking suspicion, but she wasn’t quite able to tell the other accents apart. Not yet, at least. She knew it was either Irish or Scottish— a good thing she didn’t ask, actually. He probably would have been insulted. Whoops. “Another one? Need to decorate some dark, dull space, huh?” [/b] Lili laughed to herself. She told him the price, which flashed on the register back at him, and as he dug for his money she left to briefly prepare the plant for travel alongside the bouquet he bought earlier. As she brought her book out he moved in closer to look at it with her, which she aided by sliding the book over further, granting him a better view. “They’re cute little flowers, very pretty. Actually, all of the Stars-of-Bethleham are pretty, I think. They aren’t…”[/b] she paused, looking upward slightly as she tried to remember what word she needed. “Hm—showy! Showy, or pompous. Very small and unassuming, waiting patiently for someone to notice them. And then you do, you love them.” [/b] But there was no immediate response, even when she glanced over curiously to see or hear. He was merely staring at the picture, some puddle of unreadable emotions rippling in his face until finally laughter broke the silence and he apologized, prompting an apology back from her. But then he laughed again. "'ts nice te see someone else do that. I love it when a person speaks wit' passion, wit' emotion. It's genuine, it's glorious. So please, doen hesitate te speak wot ye will. I find it very lovely--thank ye fer sharin' this wit' piece of knowledge wit' me."[/b] She responded with a sheepish little laugh, and a smile just as tinted with shyness. “I’m not sure how many people I could go on about this kind of thing. It’s refreshing to just meet someone at random that doesn’t mind listening. I ought to be thanking you for coming into the store, this whole visit has been a real treat.” [/b] [/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Feb 3, 2013 13:18:16 GMT -8
”Anythin’ ye say.” Donald replied casually with a wink, in hopes if breaking her stern expression. Surely, there had to be a weakness somewhere in that cute mask she had up whenever she feigned sternness. Of course, she smiled again. God knew how much cheerfulness Donald was able absorb from just one smile. It was as if he was watching a flower bloom. It was a mysterious source of felicity.
Towards her comment about his attempt on the English accent, the ginger made a simper. Good thing it worked out lest he would’ve made a fool out of himself. During moments like these, he had to thank Arthur for being around him so much—well, not anymore. When they were kids, he had a penchant for mocking the lad. It seemed to pay off through this moment. “Ha-ha! Perks o’ livin’ ‘ere fer so long. The Londoners speak n’ a way the Irish see as pompous—on the contrary the Londoners see the Irish accent as n’ uneducated one. Americans, tho’ seemed te like it—ah anyway, I try te not speak like tha’ often. I feel like I lost a piece o’ meself, yeknow-whot-I-mean?”
He ran his fingers through his hair out of meaningless whim. It was probably a natural compulsion in response to how surprised he was at Lili’s response to his volunteering suggestion. She sounded… ecstatic—ah, no it would be rude to assume a word of that magnitude. Still, he was grateful that it was a ‘yes’ and not a ‘no’.
“Consider it done, Miss Lili! A helpin’ hand—ah ye can call me whenever ye like. Oh!”
Now he had to subtly ask for her number. “Right that wouldn’t do without me digits right? May I, if ye will, have yer phone number? Communicatin’ wold be much easier.” Practical, logical, and suave. Following the request, Donald promptly pulled out his phone to get number down—assuming that she was going to give it to him, that is. “It’s nae problem at all—‘bout the star flowers. I caen always wait ‘nother year. Regardless I’m going te be able te see bundles of ‘em durin’ Easter. They hold a lotta significance te my religion—er maybe jus’ me ‘cause I’m a bloke who actually pays attention te flowers.”
Naturally a restless person, Donald paced around the shop, still within the proper and comfortable conversational zone. He eyed a little tulip and peered inside out of curiosity, only to have his attention averted to the window when she mentioned the weather. “I bet th’ mountaens aere lovely. ‘ve been te much o’ a city and meadow boy te really see a glimpse of its majesty up close. Might take a trip one day, who knows?”
His lips formed a wry smile as he sauntered closer to get a better look at the flower Lili was interested in. It would be best to not talk too much about colors. He didn’t want to weigh her down with any counter-optimistic phrases about living a colorless life.
“Another one? Need to decorate some dark, dull space, huh?”
“Oh boy,” Donald immediately thought of Iain and Vash and chuckled in an instant, stepping up to the counter to pay the fees in good humor. “Ye ‘ave no idea ‘ow dark n’ dull th’ people I hang ‘round wit’. Yet I ‘ppose this’ll be fer an entirely different intention alone.”
“They’re cute little flowers, very pretty. Actually, all of the Stars-of-Bethlehem are pretty, I think. They aren’t… Hm—showy! Showy, or pompous. Very small and unassuming, waiting patiently for someone to notice them. And then you do, you love them.”
“Precisely why I like ‘em. Those little buds—they represent some serta humbleness n’ hope. Bah—n’ o ‘course I love dissect th’ symbolism as if they are all pieces of Victorian literature. Pray, if I go on I’d be ‘ere fer hours.” Donald moved his eyes to the two vases. The stunning flowers stood prim and poised in their own vases. The stargazer lily looked at him haughtily, as if it wanted him to take the bouquets home immediately. He collected both of them, cradling it in his arms as the petals and leaves tickled the sides of his face.
“Likewise, absolutely! You’re ‘haps the sun te my day—ah, symbolism. The pleasure was truly, truly mine.” Donald simpered as he transferred one of the vases so that there was two in one arm. He expended a hand, that cheeky smile not once leaving his countenance. “As much as I wold like te stick ‘round, I’ve got te scurry home. But worry little, I’ll be back in due time. But when I come back, ye’ll be ‘ere, right waitin’ fer me right?” Of course she would. He knew that she would but he wanted to know if she wanted to be there next time he arrives. Donald used words as a form of a verbal contract—when one person confirms the idea, he cements it in his mind without little worry. There he was, holding bundles of flowers in front of a girl who was probably too good to be real. At least if she accepts, it’ll take away one less fantasy and possibly make it real. | Notes: xxx ♣
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Post by Deleted on Feb 3, 2013 20:07:54 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together ”Anythin’ ye say.”
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[/b] He grinned, winking as if directed by a cue card giving him cheating hints! Her attempt to retain her hard-nosed, admittedly fake demeanor fell flat on its face as her expression broke into a grin. She just couldn’t hold it, there was no way she could keep it up for long when her opponent was the extremely clever Donald. Perhaps she was just that easily amused, or perhaps there was a certain special charm to his actions that just effortlessly tickled her. “I know how that feels.”[/b] Lili nodded her head a single time. She felt that exactly feeling quite a lot while she lived in London. It was… very abrupt, the switch of cultures, not to mention the lack of use most of her other languages subsequently received. Still uncomfortable with English by the time she moved in with Vash, she attempted to use her intermediate knowledge to get by. While it wasn’t as rough as it could have been, she suddenly felt so much more alone in the United Kingdom, having no friends and barely passable communication with them. “I’m not a native speaker of English.”[/b] She admitted bashfully. “I know that’s hard to believe, given my flawless grasp of the language! But it’s true.”[/b] Well, she was proud of how exponential her progress learning had become once she actually got into an English-speaking country. It was true, you learn better with use. “And even now it feels as if English just doesn’t have the same beauty or feeling as German does.”“Don’t get me wrong, English is still a beautiful language!”[/b] She immediately defended, hands held up in front of her, her thinking perhaps that comment might rub him the wrong way. "It’s a very diverse language. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t fun to listen to.”[/b] He seemed to be a little taken aback by her gleeful response to his question. He didn’t respond immediately, instead opting to scratch at his hair as if attempting to process his next choice of words. “I’m sorry, that must have seemed a little unexpected! No one just volunteers to help. I actually do most of the work here myself. It’d be welcome anytime!”[/b] “Consider it done, Miss Lili! A helpin’ hand—ah ye can call me whenever ye like. Oh!”[/b]A sudden realization struck him and his eyes lit up to reflect the epiphany. “Right that wouldn’t do without me digits right? May I, if ye will, have yer phone number? Communicatin’ wold be much easier.”[/b] Ah, he was right! She didn’t have many qualms about giving her number to a stranger – provided some evidence that they were decent people. When one had a brother like Vash, it was very rare that any sort of unsavory individuals would last long in one’s shadow. His subtle request was met by an subtly thrilled smile from Lili, as she mirrored his action by removing her own phone from the pocket on the front of her lightly-stained apron. “Well, you do have a very good point Mr. Donny.”[/b] Oh boy, if Vash were here – no, not even that. If he found OUT. “It would be very difficult to get a hold of you with no number to call, wouldn’t it?”[/b] And so they exchanged numbers, reciting the familiar line of digits automatically. “It’s nae problem at all—‘bout the star flowers. I caen always wait ‘nother year. Regardless I’m going te be able te see bundles of ‘em durin’ Easter. They hold a lotta significance te my religion—er maybe jus’ me ‘cause I’m a bloke who actually pays attention te flowers.”“Oh, even still.”[/b] And then, her face, having been so elated and cheerful the whole visit, was suddenly overtaken with a very despondent frown. “I do wish I could have had that particular flower. I get a little disappointed when people come to me with requests I can’t fill, even if you didn’t really request it…”[/b] He paced a bit as they spoke, and she watched him inspect a tulip sitting off to the side. He peered into it, it looked back up at him, quivering slightly in the wake of the wind me made as he passed by. “I bet th’ mountaens aere lovely. ‘ve been te much o’ a city and meadow boy te really see a glimpse of its majesty up close. Might take a trip one day, who knows?”[/b] “Oh yes, they’re beautiful!”[/b] Lili heaved the massive encyclopedia back into its spot up on the shelve, sneezing slightly when she inhaled stray dust kicked up by its return. “The United Kingdom has its charms, as well. I’ve taken a couple of trips up to Scotland. The landscape is all-around beautiful, here. It’s like the island hasn’t quite yet forgotten its natural roots. In a way, it is almost like home.”[/b] Her almost reminiscent description of the flower was spoken much too fondly to remember to take into account his colorblindness. She couldn’t imagine being unable to see flowers as she did and her subconscious knew the idea would take a lot of time to get used to and remember automatically. He didn’t respond except to request purchase. “Oh boy,”[/b] He laughed at her small teasing of his multiple purchases. She wasn’t about to complain. Money was money, after all, even if it was being made charging someone who seemed just as enthusiastic as she was. “Ye ‘ave no idea ‘ow dark n’ dull th’ people I hang ‘round wit’. Yet I ‘ppose this’ll be fer an entirely different intention alone.”[/b] “Ooooh. Oh, I see.”[/b] She wondered what kind of environment he worked in, to have his bright and glowing personality darkened by others. “You’ll have to come back and get some more decorations then, if you won’t use these.”[/b] Unfortunate that, because these flowers were gorgeous enough to easily set even the more despondent of rooms seem radiant. In her opinion. An opinion which set her on a brief tangent back on the topic of his Stars-of-Bethleham. “Precisely why I like ‘em. Those little buds—they represent some serta humbleness n’ hope. Bah—n’ o ‘course I love dissect th’ symbolism as if they are all pieces of Victorian literature. Pray, if I go on I’d be ‘ere fer hours.” He removed the two vases from the counter.[/b] When she thanked him for his company and his patronage, he responded with the same beaming countenance that he held constantly. He moved one vase to his other arm, holding both securely in his grip as he complimented her once more. Certainly the brief break from such adulation was only temporary. He would not leave without one more go. “Please, I could easily say the same thing of you. Do you have any idea how many people come into this store which act even remotely like you? I’d say very little, if any at all.”[/b] And for that, she was grateful. He was a change of pace, of scenery; a sudden break in a cycle, and a very welcome one at that. “As much as I wold like te stick ‘round, I’ve got te scurry home. But worry little, I’ll be back in due time. But when I come back, ye’ll be ‘ere, right waitin’ fer me right?”[/b] “You can visit me as much as you like, Mr. Donny.”[/b] Her heart suddenly began to pound harshly and heavily. He was leaving almost as suddenly as he had appeared… she wasn’t ready for him to head back out that door. “I hardly ever leave, to be honest. But if it pleases you I’ll make a special point to wait for you in particular.”[/b] A final quip to precede a farewell she genuinely hoped would not be permanent. [/div] And carry me away as light as a feather. [/color][/div][/td][/tr][/table][/center]
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Dec 4, 2020 21:51:26 GMT -8
Tag me @northernireland
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Post by Donald Finn O'Neill-Kirkland on Feb 5, 2013 22:50:43 GMT -8
Donald tilted his head slightly, thoroughly engaged in what she was saying. It was rather astounding how much this little flower spoke. He took her as the shy sheep upon initial glance. Yet there she was, almost talking as much as he was—and that was saying a lot! Literally! But there was little to no room for complaint here; he was too busy smiling while actively listening to her. Not often did he choose to just listen to anyone (or at all for that matter), but he found himself pleasantly content with hearing her speak.
There was just this authenticity that coursed effortlessly from her words, like how the water flowed from the stream into the lake. It was just very calming, very natural.
He was able to notice the German in her tone. German was often stereotyped as a very rough and abrasive language, especially from his parts. The kids would mimic the Germanics by roughing their voices, going down lower octaves to mutter angry-sounding gibberish. Now that he was older, well of course he knew they didn’t sound like that. It just so happened that Lili exemplified everything contrary to how his childhood had depicted the language. “Aye. Tho’ I am Irish, I actually doen kno’ a whole lot of the actual language. See, ‘tis kinda lost unfortunately. I know tidbits, one er two, a few probably—so sadly I’ve got nothin’ te compare English to. Regardless, English caen be a bloody confusin’ language. Not te mention it sounds ugly—so yes! I mean nae, I am not offended.”
And he swore he was going to jibber-jabber more but he found reasons to halt. A phone number—hm! Such progress! He was stuck in between surprised and not very surprised. Actually no, he was just surprised. Sure he had high confidence in regards to being personable but he didn’t exactly expect much from this. Yet here he was, delightfully surprised. Yet as they conversed, he felt as if his time to leave was looming closer. Priorities. Argh, he had other things to do too. Such was life. The moments of grace and felicity are always short-lived.
If he could, he would’ve stayed the whole day. Yes, the whole day just doing what he liked best: talking, smiling, and connecting. Those three things sound mundane, yet it was honestly the only reason why he was sane. Somehow, Lili made it so easy to do such things concurrently.
“I hardly ever leave, to be honest. But if it pleases you I’ll make a special point to wait for you in particular.”
Here came the killer combo. Donald gave her one of this radiant grins, the corner of his lips spreading up. Dimples on his face. Even his eyes looked like they were smiling for a moment before he gave her a wink. Following that, he raised his hand, pointing two fingers up and flicked his wrist, as if he was saluting her farewell. "Until next time, Miss Lili." He chimed.
When he turned away, he drew in a breath. Whoa, this was new.
My God, it just became a little harder to breath. Breathless? He could blame so many things—for one he could blame the flowers that were nuzzling against his shirt. The moment he stepped outside, back to the city, the honking horns, the sound of the rushing cars, the footsteps of the strangers, and other sounds of London’s ambiance, things just felt a little different. Just really different.
There he was, the bloke with a bunch of flowers in an arm passing by pedestrians that hardly gave him a gander. Before the crosswalk, Donald looked down and then plucked out the stargazer lily from where it was nestled. Fingers delicately on the step, he tilted his head as he scrutinized it. The colors were not processed into his brain like a normal person, but he could still discern its vibrancy by the way a couple of people glanced at it. It was a conspicuous beauty, one that could seize attention without even trying. It was buoyant, it was quirky, a pretty little thing that had no place in the bouquet. The bouquet was pretty in its own right, but it was just so calculated. So symmetrical. The stargazer lily really didn’t belong because of its unique shape, the way its delicate petal curled inward.
The light signaled the ‘GO’. Donald walked on. Instead of turning to the cab, he went to the closest crafts store. Well, he was him trying. | Notes: xxx ♣
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Nov 25, 2024 7:16:13 GMT -8
Tag me @Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2013 7:49:09 GMT -8
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, height: 495px; width: 530px; background-image: url(http://i47.tinypic.com/ri98c1.png); background-repeat:no-repeat; border:inset 5px #7D053F;] Then the Earth and the sky they open together Her heart fluttered ever so slightly when he grinned at her. Killer combo indeed! His entire presence was a killer combo. The way he had held himself was impressive and not to mention fun, his decorum almost overflowing with charisma and an endless multitude of things to say. A plethora of coordinated physical features made it seem almost as if whatever being designed him knew exactly what he was aiming for – and the end result was very much almost perfect. But that final moment, that grin, she noticed even more qualities she hadn’t noticed before, now given the close proximity he stood at.
Freckles, though light, sporadically dotted his cheeks, which were embellished further by a pair of dimples that just lit up his face.
… oh God, he looked adorable.
He saluted, still grinning, and then said his goodbye.
And then, he was gone.
And her shop suddenly seemed very… uncomfortably quiet. The chipper environment had disappeared in an instant, replacing the sudden excitement of the unknown with the horrible, dull feeling of normalcy. She was, well, disappointed, to say the very least of her emotions. His arrival, the conversation that followed, and the entire pattern of events seemed so very surreal, as if she had dreamed it up.
He was gone, and it was as if he never even showed up. If not for the missing pots of flowers, she might have believed that it never happened in the first place, and the number now in her phone confirmed it. Lili sighed heavily, breathing out the only audible sound she could pick up in the store, which now was too dull for her by comparison.
Normally she could sit among her plants and be content, but now she was simply sitting in a room which now, without the enthusiastic light that graced it, was suddenly dark. She pulled the book back off the shelf, removed the ribbon bookmark, and reached down under her counter to switch her music player to life.
She needed more noise, now.
And carry me away as light as a feather. |
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