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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 4, 2012 21:31:03 GMT -5
Month 7, Week 2, Day 4. Semi-private.
Petunia Dahlia is hunting for a florist's shop. One of her co-workers said there was a nice one down this way... Ah, there it is!
She parks her motorcycle and wanders inside, a red-haired woman in a leather jacket and Kevlar blues. The sight of so many flowers momentarily stuns her, but it's the smell that hits her hardest-
She has never smelled so much green before.
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 4, 2012 22:30:53 GMT -5
There are no chimes on the door of Aidan's shop; something about the sound of them has always unsettled him. Or perhaps it only began recently. Sometimes, he isn't sure himself. But it's a small shop, and he knows it like the back of his hand – well enough that no matter how deep he is in the rows of painstakingly tended and arranged baskets and flowerpots, he simply knows when someone enters. So it is that, arms full of Delphinium and thorn-apple blossoms called in especially, he peers out from the racks when he gets that odd tickle up his spine.
"Hello, welcome!" he calls cheerily once he spots Petunia standing, looking perhaps a bit gobsmacked, inside the entryway. "Give me just a moment to set this down, if you would, please."
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 4, 2012 23:02:49 GMT -5
"Hello!" she calls back, stepping a bit further into the shop. She's stopped by an arrangement of blackthorn and Chinese chrysanthemums. Red eyes go wide as she admires the ball-like flowers, and the way they're arranged so prettily and artlessly-seeming with the white blackthorn blossoms. "Oh, wow."
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 10:15:39 GMT -5
"I'm so sorry to've kept you waiting," Aidan says with a little sigh once he has squared away the bouquet and can attend to his guest. He pauses, seeing that she's admiring an arrangement, and his almost sleepy-looking smile creases the corners of his eyes and mouth. "Ah," he murmurs happily, "that one's caught your eye?" One of the most interesting things he's found is hearing what new customers think.
He does wonder just why this arrangement in particular calls to her; she looks like a sunny person on first glance, and that leads Aidan to worrisome thoughts. He hopes she isn't having a difficult time of things.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 15:26:50 GMT -5
"It's pretty," she says. "It reminds me of Starry Night." Petunia reaches out, her hand not quite touching one of the chrysanthemums. "See? You have the stars big and beautiful, and here-" she skims her fingers parallel to one of the blackthorn branches. "-the currents in the night air."
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 20:11:54 GMT -5
"Well," says Aidan with a chuckle, "that's the first I've heard that comparison." He's never thought of it, himself. He tilts his head a little to the left and looks again at the arrangement, then peers sidelong at the young lady so taken with it. He can't help asking, "But do you know what they mean?"
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 20:31:20 GMT -5
Does she? Petunia cocks her head slightly, but there's not even a buzz of static in the blank space of her memories. "No," she admits. "What do they mean?"
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 21:42:04 GMT -5
Aidan turns that drowsy, eye-crinkling smile on her as he picks one of the chrysanthemums and offers it to her.
"Have good cheer even in adversity," he explains. "It's a fine flower to give a friend who might be going through difficult times. And the blackthorn," he goes on, stroking the backs of his fingers under the leaves as though the branch is a pet, "represents difficulty. One might give this bouquet to say, 'Times are tough, but keep your chin up'." His smile has a worried edge to it when he looks back at her.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 21:51:34 GMT -5
"Ohhh." Petunia takes the offered chrysanthemum and raises it to her face. It smells green, alive. She brushes her lips against it, smiles at the softness of the petals. "I could use something like that."
She offers the flower back to him. "I'm called Petunia Dahlia, but I don't think that's actually my name."
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 22:06:38 GMT -5
That certainly does sound like an alias, Aidan thinks, fixing his cloudy blue eyes on Petunia. Not a very unobtrusive one, either.
"You… don't think it's your name?" he asks gently, dismayed. Not that her troubles are any of his business, and he makes an apologetic sound, looking away. "I'm sorry," he mumbles, "I'm being forward."
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 22:18:37 GMT -5
"I don't mind." Her eyes drift to the arrangement. The cheer vanishes from her voice. "I was in an accident a little while ago. Concussion, brain damage, you know how it goes."
She shrugs, her eyes sliding back to him, and puts on a smile. "But the way I look at it: if we're still drawing breath, we have a chance to do something on our shortcomings besides piss and moan.1"
1. NYPD Blue
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 23:05:24 GMT -5
Aidan doesn't know, and he can't be so crass as to say that he does. Watching Petunia piece her smile back into place makes his heart ache. And not just figuratively.
"That's quite brave of you," he says with sincere admiration, his own smile edging back.
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 23:19:29 GMT -5
"Cheer even in adversity," she says and brushes her cheek against the chrysanthemum. "Thank you. For saying that. And for not..."
She trails off. "What about you? What's your name?"
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Flame
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Post by Flame on Feb 5, 2012 23:32:09 GMT -5
"Aidan Flynn," he answers. He doesn't press for whatever it was he didn't say or do, simply nods to accept the thanks he isn't sure he merits. "And perhaps I should do what I pay me to do," he adds, not quite chuckling. "What brings you in, Petunia?"
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Post by Pee-Dee on Feb 5, 2012 23:42:19 GMT -5
The subject-change makes Petunia's smile a little more natural. It fades as she talks, however. "Someone I know is in the hospital. She's... having a rough time of it, and I just wanted her to know someone's thinking of her and hoping she gets well soon."
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