✧ ˖ @leaderofthemoles asked:
[ FLORIST ] - In a place like Belobog, flowers are a sign of affection reserved for only those who can afford such a delicacy. With the Solwarm festival’s hope for Spring anew, however, the Eversummer Florist is running a once in a lifetime sale. Grab a bouquet as rare as that special somebody, and don’t forget to tip!
“Um… Ummm…” The adults always talk about buying flowers… seems like they’re like gifts for special stuff. Like when two people start getting lovey dovey with each other ( yuck! ), or when someone gets their first job, or when someone says goodbye to another person who leaves their job… Actually, now that Hook thinks about it, she doesn’t know anything about flower giving. Everyone that comes and goes here is always so specific about the types of flowers they want. Aren’t all flowers pretty? Why does it matter? Are there flowers that some people don’t like? Hook looks down at the shields she was given. It’s not much, but maybe it’s enough to buy a flower for Daddy. But the thing is, she forgot to ask him what kind of flower he likes. Wait, what if Daddy doesn’t like flowers at all? But Daddy always says he’s happy with whatever Hook brings back, and she wants to give him something to show that she’s thankful for the dollhouse he bought for her on her birthday. Maybe she can ask one of the grown-ups around here for help. Not that she’d be bad at picking flowers! Only an adult knows what another adult likes, after all! “Um! Excuse me miss!” Hehe, take that, old witch. Hook knows her manners! “Do you know what kind of flower I can give to an old guy? Like a really old looking guy that I wanna say ‘thank you’ to?”
Strands of petal pink fall in her eyes when she blinks down at the young girl. Like a ray of sunshine caught in a bottle and rolled through the green house's door, her voice a single decibel too loud for conversation. Elysia is, without a second thought, charmed.
"An old guy?" Her nose wrinkles when she laughs, index finger coming to tap against her cheek in thought. "Hmmm... Let me think."
The flora here are only alike to those she knows in appearance. Their names, their meanings... flowers may transcend earth, but to every language there will be dialects. And here, where such things are so hard to grow, their meanings must be tenfold the ones that she herself knows. Elysia scans the rows and bundles, from pots of soil to prearranged bouquets, and stops with a decisive hum before a bunch of pale ivory petals.
"How about..." her finger flips the little tag that has been nestled in the twine that gathers the few flowers. Delicate, sweet little things, which she inspects thoroughly before offering them to the girl for her own thoughts. "No... Oh!"
Reaching up on the tip of her toes, Elysia plucks another little bundle. This one is all yellows and oranges, as bright as the little sundrop she offers them to. "Old folks are sentimental, and I'd be willing to bet these will remind him of you every time he sees them. See, look~"
She plucks a stem from the arrangement and stoops to tuck it in the flap of the girl's hat, then raises her finger to her lips and pushes the flowers into her hands.
"Perfect match! Now, go on and say your thanks. I've got you covered. ♪"
