#tsxopen

The sun was just setting on Funland and Alice was looking over the start of the Halloween decorations. They had started late this year, so she ensured everyone worked a little longer and much harder than normal. She wouldn't have anybody slacking off.

"Hey! Put that a little higher! We only want light to come through the face and the bottom!" She called to a man on a ladder, setting up the jack-o-lantern light covers.

She tapped her pen off of her clipboard, eyeing the newly set up haunted house as she slowly walked over. That was the biggest item on the agenda for the day, and as the owner, she was always left to ensure it was set up right. Why couldn't it have been put up sooner? Maybe when the sun was still up?

Alice winced, seeing the lights flash inside. It was always the hottest attraction on Halloween, but every year she dreaded going inside. Just as she took her first step, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Morning.

The florist was usually up long before the sun made its first contact with the lush branches and bedecked leaves of the hillside trees. A quick glance from a sleepy eye determined that the day in particular wouldn't hold the case for him and he was up from the soft cloud of a bed in an instant.

How could I forget? It's today, isn't it? Crap.

Cam contained the urge to run out of the room upon dressing but moved with a reserved speed, appearing outside his bedroom door in minutes. A small smile threatened to break the steely mood upon his visage as he passed the kitchen area of the establishment, nodding a bleak greeting of the morning to the other two occupants before shuffling out of sight. The sweet aromas wafting and welling within the confines of the cafe were always a delight to wake up to, but the one thing that made the brunet happiest was idly sitting in another room.

I hope it's ready....

The florist quietly shut the door to the adjacent room, first making his way over to the window. A small sky-blue planter sat primly upon the ledge, eagerly soaking in the rays of sunlight that flitted through the crystalline pane.

“Ah, good morning...”

Olive-drab eyes softened, the smile that threatened to break him earlier bursting free across his lips. Little blades of sprouting stems were poking up through the dark, murky soil, jade contrasting and constricting, reaching vertical-happily to be bathed in the oncoming light. The sight delighted Cam, who reached over to pluck a small glass container of water off of his workbench to gently douse the floral statures in.

“Just a few more weeks, and you'll be ready,” he assured the plants in a quiet voice, fingertips sprinkling the little sprouts with droplets of water. “You'll be apart of the best bouquet I've ever had the pleasure of building.”

Cam set the glass down and turned to the one damning thing that had been hounding the depths of his mind since he had woken up:

“I hope you're ready, because I'm not,” he mumbled with a quiet sigh. Several bottles of different scented oils littered his opposite workbench, along with some odd-shaped glasses and flasks and an ivory marbled mortar and pestle. Frowning, he took grip of one bottle – rose-scented – and precariously dropped a few beads of the liquid inside the bowl of the mortar. He then reached above for a box containing some rose petals which he also placed inside the mortar. A few more miscellaneous items and oils and he was ready for the pestle.

As he ground up the pieces, Cam's mind wandered, tripping and traipsing over things. The perfume order was for a gentleman who had wanted to give a lovely gift to his betrothed. Such news rarely made his heart soar in excitement, save for the financial aspect of it. What was romance, anyway? He certainly wasn't sure about married life. The idea of being with someone until their dying day sounded like a far-off fairytale, enchanting words and whimsy made only for dreaming maidens and curious heroes. The florist felt as though he could not fully understand such thought and wondered if something along those lines were even possible.

He gently tapped the pestle against the inside of the mortar, allowing the remnants of the mixture to drip back into the bowl. When he thought about it, the brunet's emotions were about as varied as the lovely-scented mush he was grinding: mysterious and jumbled with nowhere to go except forward into a bottle.

Jack let out a sigh as he made his way out of the hand-me-down farm. He carried a large bag filled with something that was obviously heavy. He didn't seem to mind as he made his way through Forget-Me-Not-Valley. He wondered whether or not he should make the trek up the hill to the city to sell his old cow. She was a sweetheart, but well past her prime. It was nice that she could make him some money again.

He paused as he saw someone on the edge of the neighboring farm, nearing the edge of the hill. Well, may as well, right? Could generate some new business if he could sell this stuff himself.

Nina wasn't one to arrive late to things -- she really wasn't. It was by some highly unnatural coincidence that the cherry-haired florist made her timing imperfect, raising the question if she'd even attend the ball at all.  The beautiful gown had been a complete disaster at first: a seam split in the middle and she had taken moments out of her precious time to mend it. After she had deemed that work satisfactory, her cashmere-soft tresses just wouldn't cooperate with the flowers bedecked in them, and she had fiddled with strand after luxurious strand to get it mirror perfect. Her shoes? No, don't even get her started on that one.

Nonetheless, after what seemed like hours, Nina was finally finished with the subject of her appearance and had quietly made her entrance into the ball. Caramel-coloured eyes shifted quaintly about, her hands enshrouded in a shimmery gauzy wrap that she had grabbed at the last minute before rushing out the door. The decor of the ball was nothing short of spectacular to the florist and she felt strangely at home with all the mutual differences.

Her being full of such whimsy, Nina traversed forward and to the punch bowl where she acquired a full glass of the ruby-hued liquid. She then maneuvered towards an empty seat near the bar and settled into it, watching the festivities commence with a small smile.

The whispery winds that had spiraled itself within an intricate design amongst the myriad of leaves settled nicely amid the heat exhausted village. It wasn't a welcome change in weather; the temperatures were still hotter than the kettle of an ironcast oven, but, for the moment, it at least gave some repose to those whose jobs took them outdoors.

Luckily for the violet-clad florist (and potentially those connected to him), the day in particular had taken him to the outskirts of Bluebell and away from the enclosed stature of the flower stand. Most everyone had been pressing the poor young man to take breaks from the monstrosity of the summer's cruel grip and he had backlashed: 'How would be make income?' 'What if someone really needed flowers that day?' 'Who would tend to the kittens?' Such questions had kept Cam in business for so long it had become second nature to him and he rarely thought of it. Most were apt to call stubbornness; he just ignored it.

Hands shoved idly in the pockets of his slacks, he traversed further until he happened across what he liked to consider his second home: the river. The aura coming from the mountainside was simply peaceful, no matter the colour the weather had painted for the day. A rare smile brushed over his lips, olive eyes drinking in the vast beauty of the green-and-tranquil around him. If he had an inkling of how to draw or at least sketch without making his art look like something a panda could do better he'd do it, just to have at least something to look at rather than recalling memories and looking silly when he got lost in them.

A few more intricate steps brought him to the grassy knoll of the river where he eased himself into sitting, drawing one knee to his chest and draping the correlating arm over it. Nature relaxed Cam and put him at peace – a much-needed escape from the diplomatic side of horticulture. Though he had been living in Bluebell for over several years now, he still put up a front when it came to selling flowers, reminding himself it was just good business to be frank and to the point. None of that mattered when he was at his resting spot, however. He was free to let his mind wander aimlessly and permit his heart to unlock all the worries he had been clutching on inside.

'Am I alone?'

Cam glanced from side to side, front to back, and forward again. Satisfied that it appeared he wasn't being watched, he leaned back into the lush emerald blades, crossing his arms behind his head to cushion it with his hands. His gaze took him to the cloud-riddled sky, bluer than the pure ire of the river. The little puffballs of cotton dotted the spectrum like a patchwork blanket, wisps weaving in and out and playing along upon the canvas that nature so idly enjoyed toying with.

Sonja eyed her now dressed figure in the mirror. She was wearing a lime green cocktail dress with a pink design over her chest. Twirling around once, the young woman giggled happily at her appearance. 

Now let's see if I can remember how to properly put on make up... Was it eyeliner then mascara? Or mascara then eyeliner? Oh I can't remember. I'm sure it will look good no matter how I do it. Careful, careful... Don't poke your eye out with that eyeliner pencil! Hmmm what color eye shadow to use... Isn't it supposed to bring out your eyes? My eyes stand out enough already I don't need that! Ok now lipstick. Not too red now, that can just look weird. Oh, that shade of pink is perfect! I think I'm done now...

After a long battle with her make up, Sonja was finally ready for the dance. Walking over to the festival area in heels was a bit difficult, but the priestess made it. Unfortunately, she was a bit late due to her lovely experience with her make up. As she entered the ballroom, Sonja noticed all the beautiful fall themed decorations that surrounded her. Quickly, the pain in her feet snapped her back to reality. I better find a place to sit down before my feet fall off from walking in these heels! Sonja made her way over to the nearest table and plopped herself down in one of the seats, then taking off her heels and rubbing her feet vigorously. Maybe I'll just leave my shoes off for the rest of the dance...Deciding that would probably be the best idea, the priestess finally let herself relax and lean back in her chair, allowing herself to take in the whole scene in front of her. 

With her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a sweater and jeans, Alice was feeling a lot more relaxed as she entered the bar. she had been taking a lot of time off lately, and decided this would be the last night off. She had to get back to working hard soon.

She looked around slowly before settling in a booth in the corner. Ordering a glass of whiskey, she settled back in her seat and closed her eyes for a minute, trying to think of what all she had to do that she had fallen behind on. 

Ah, home. It was nice. As much as the blonde woman adored travelling, she knew that home really was where the heart was. Familiar and safe, it was nice once in a while to come home and relax.

Although she wasn't staying in her room, oh no. Rosalind had dropped her bags and went right for the bar. Just because she was tired of being away from Castanet, didn't mean she was tired of people. She went right for the bar and sat down at one of the tables.