[RQ] wild, magical things

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

Lena would never quite know how to fixate on her opinions with the hand-mines – eternally taught that they were necessary, but somehow doubting the discrepancy for most of her teenage and adult life. Indoctrinated to simply nod her head along with the notions, it wasn’t until after the war that they were finally beginning to open to the rest of the world around them – and she hoped that this was exactly what Stormbreak would need. A rejuvenation. A reformation.

With Celestine duties done for the moment, snagging at her basket, and inviting Mittens along, she intended to meet the others with ensuring the holes left behind were filled with flora. It would be nice to have the absence of those measured things barely noticed; just filled with blooms and blossoms instead. Her own carrier held a wide variety of flowers from the Celestine’s gardens, and those she’d tended to in her own small, measured field.

Spying the rest of her party ahead, she waved as she encountered them lingering nearby, catching up. “Hello! What did you all end up bringing?”

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Although Noe had initially balked at the idea of helping with this whole regional quest thing - call it her vendetta against Sohalia for breaking Koa's heart - in the end, her loyalty to her region had won out. So here she was, ready to do her bit to open Stormbreak to the Abandoned. Despite her disdain for their illustrious leader, she had to admit that this was a good cause, and one that, emotions aside, she was happy to support.

Noe carried a basket looped over her arm and braced against her hip, various flora tucked carefully into it for transport to their new homes.  Although she didn't know Lena, Noe knew of her, and that was enough for the girl to greet the Celestine's caretaker like a friend. "Oh, Lena, right?" she said as the woman approached, a sunny smile on her face and a cheerful lilt in her voice. "I'm Noe," she added by way of introduction. "I've just got some flowers. I'm sure Mateo will bring something fancy." And she laughed fondly. "Wonder where he is, anyway?"

Noe

Mateo

Late.

Mateo is late.

He's always late, but this time it's not even fashionable, even though he is when he appears. In a billowing white shirt and a ruddy waistcoat cinching in all the right places, he appears like some displaced sky pilot, a bag over his shoulder as he hurries out through the gates. "Hallo!" he calls, smiling brightly and drawing to a halt before the two women.

"Dispiace," he says in the travelling tongue. "I was waylaid." Or just laid - who is to tell, really?

Regardless, he's already kneeling down to open his bag of holding, carefull lifting out pots and trays and other flora; he's got snow moss and peppermint bark saplings, a variety of climbing roses and even some herbs (lavender, thyme and mint to name a few). "I did not want the blink hares to go without," he explains with a bashful, dimpled smile. "Where shall we start?"

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

In others’ presence, Mittens bellowed an all mighty screech – which could’ve indicated multitudes of things (welcoming, disruption, mayhem…). So she pretended it was nothing, and extended greetings of her own instead. Nodding at the younger woman’s claim, she persisted much in the same stead. “Nice to meet you,” came along a sunny disposition, knowing her brother and all his platitudes enough. Though, if she could recall, hadn't this been the one quite unhappy with Sohalia's rise to leadership?

Shrugging her shoulders at the whereabouts of Mateo, because there were probably many likelihoods and the Caretaker could only name a polite scarce few, the secret would remain so as the botanist arrived. Turning her head, shaking it mildly, she grinned nonetheless. “No worries,” though she did peek at his bag of holding and all its designations, not surprised to see so many wondrous accompaniments. “Of course not. They look lovely.”

As for beginning, she twisted slightly to the left, where the first one was only a few yards away. “I figured we could start here and work our way around?” She indicated in a clockwise direction with one finger, though they’d probably have to occasionally branch off if there were some out of the noteworthy pattern.

Snagging at Mittens, who’d begun turning itself over in snowball somersaults, she began walking towards the initial hole, snagging at a few blue blooms in her basket.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Mateo

"As do both of yours," Mateo says with a smile between the two of them, though he does reel back a bit on his heels at the snowball's hellish screech. "Your snowball does not have green fingers," he guesses, rising to his feet and nodding at Lena's suggestion. "There did not seem to be much of a pattern to it when we were pulling them out, but this is as good a way as any to cover ground."

So saying, he moves alongside Lena to the next patch of earth in need of a little love. For this flatter area, Mateo chooses his herbs, planting a spray of lavender in one hole, some thyme in another and, in a particularly tough bit of ground, some woody rosemary.

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

Sure, Noe had been unhappy with Sohalia, but that didn't mean that her ire extended to the council or even the direction of Stormbreak at large. Indeed, her issues with Stormbreak's so-called Heart were personal rather than professional. Nobody hurt Noe's big brother and got away with it, and Noe would definitely be giving the Luminary a piece of her mind if she ever had the privilege of an audience with the leader. But for now, she was content to do what was needed to help her region, compartmentalizing her anger and placing it aside for now.

"Mateo!" she trilled, wiggling her fingers in a little wave as the botanist appeared. Mateo and Koa were friends, which, naturally, meant that Noe knew him well by association. It was just as she opened her mouth to say something else that Mittens chose to screech, startling the girl enough that she nearly dropped her basket. "Well, then," she said, both affronted and amused by the snowball's greeting (?).

In any case, they were moving on to planting, and Noe was more than happy to oblige. She wasn't really the type to have a particularly green thumb, but the flowers she had selected were known for being hardy. Perhaps she wouldn't cause too much damage as she planted them. Finding a few holes of her own to focus on, Noe began to settle bunches of flowers and cover their roots with dirt.

Noe

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

“Sorry,” Lena winced, not for the first nor last time, as Mittens’ antics unfurled. At least the snowball hadn’t launched itself, probably due to the leash, at anyone. The Caretaker would tally that in a win corner. Though it seemed quite intent on staring Mateo down.

Thereafter though, came the calm ambience of blossoms and flowers amidst holes that once housed terrifying devices. She rather enjoyed the notions of filling them with something other than dread – beauty, out amidst the stone, scouring away the angles of prejudice. In decades thereafter, maybe this would all be ancient history, and the hatred forced to comply with a new age. Even before then, if one could hope their newer philosophies could continue coming to light.

Covering stems and roots with more soil and dirt, she stood from her crouch, rubbing the dirt onto the length of her apron. “Ready for the next one?” If and when they were, she steadied onward, hand already grasping the next flower. Striving to keep the conversation light and easy, her eyes flickered back and forth between the younger individuals. “Are you with the Dragoons as well, Noe?” Considering nowadays there’d been some alterations and changes, and her brother’s status.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Mateo

"Noe!" Mateo trills back, naturally, though the response is understandably delayed while they wait to see if Mittens is going to try and pelt their faces off. They seem to have gotten away with it, thankfully, and so the botanist goes ahead with his planting. He even has time to stop by Noe on their way to the next set of hand mine holes, nodding encouragingly at her efforts. "Do not be afraid to press them into the earth a little," he says of the flowers. "It will make sure they are not easily uprooted while they are fragile."

For his next effort, Mateo chooses a few holes close to a crag of rock, selecting his climbing roses for this particular challenge. "Now remember to grab on to anything that looks sturdy, but do not interrupt the other flora," he tells them (what, don't you talk to your plants?) as he carefully introduces them to their new home.

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

Mateo's suggestion was welcomed with a smile, and Noe renewed her efforts to press the flowers into the soil, helping them to take root and be firmly entrenched in the ground. She hadn't much of a green thumb, but the other tasks set to their region had seemed less appealing to the young woman. Who wanted to go dig up old mines? Ick. So instead she was here.

At the suggestion that she might be a Dragoon, Noe smiled crookedly. Certainly her mother would have been pleased had Noe taken after her in that respect, but that was Koa's thing, not Noe's. She didn't have the right ability to take orders, or the desire for constant training. No, she was perfectly content with her life without being a Dragoon, thank-you-very-much. 'I'm actually in training to be an engineer," she said brightly. "Not that the Dragoons aren't great, because they are, but it's not really my thing."

Noe

Lena

and sweetest in the gale is heard
and sore must be the storm

The crag was an alteration in scenery, but Lena was persistent in the notions that the blossoms and flowers would flourish in such an atmosphere too. The hues lent a more amiable and friendly tone to the stone staples of Stormbreak’s earth, and she couldn’t help but smile wistfully as she pressed a lavender bloom into the soil, careful and protective as she encouraged the loam and terrain to work with her.

Turning her head at Noe’s answer, she gave another grin, though a bit softer and lighter, nostalgic. “Ah, that would be lovely. My sister was an engineer.” Before her passing in the way the world had tumbled down around them on that fateful day. “We will always have need of them just the same.” Dragoons were one thing, and builders, architects, and devisers quite another.

that could abash the little bird
that kept so many warm

Mateo

"It is true," Mateo agrees with a grin over to the two ladies, using a bit of twine to help anchor some of the more delicate rose stems into the rock and against other tree roots. "Do not tell your brother, Noe, but Stormbreak is not exactly short on meathead warriors. We could use a few brains in the mix." Is he sassing Koa because he's not here to defend himself? Duh.

With his roses safely planted against the crag, Mateo turns back to his bag of holding and begins to retrieve his peppermint bark saplings. "I think we dug up a few more mines over there," he tells Lena, nodding across the way. "Koa even got one from a floating crag of rock, if anyone is brave enough to plant something there."

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am

Noe laughed with her companions at their assessment of engineers versus Dragoons. It was a fond kind of laughter, for Noe adored the Dragoons in her life and would only ever tease them so from a place of love and affection. Still, she had to admit that it was equally important to have engineers, and artists, and all sorts of people - that variation was what made the world interesting!

They moved on, filling holes here and there with their plants and flowers, until they came to the place where Koa had apparently leapt over a chasm (of course he had) to get rid of a mine on an outcropping that was no longer attached to the main road. Noe snorted at the idea that one of them might leap across in the same way. "You couldn't pay me to jump over there," she said emphatically, bracing her basket of plants on one hip and placing a hand on the other, the very image of a sassy teenager. "If we had a dragon, we could just fly a plant over," she mused aloud. "Or if we had some seeds, maybe we could throw them and hope for the best?"

Noe

Lena

Lena, ever the polite Caretaker, only allowed the slightest of grins at Mateo’s notions of their warriors. From there though, as her hands reached for several rose blooms, her attention deviated to where the botanist nodded, and the floating crag. “I can do it,” upon the other suggestions, with a steady wink, taking a moment to drop her basket, before shifting entirely into her parrot form.

Rosy hues and illustrious wings gave way, and her talons clutched the flowers, hastening over to the aforementioned floating isle, determined to ensure all the vacant notions would be taken care of, in the end.

we are more weather pattern than stone monument
sunlight on mist; summer lightning

Mateo

"If I had some sentient vines, I wonder if I would be able to persuade them over," Mateo muses, grinning to Noe and shrugging his shoulders. Alas, sentient vines are hardly native to Stormbreak, but luckily for the two of them, Lena has it all in hand. With blue eyes wide with wonder to see the rosy coloured parrot, he watches with a dimpled smile as the Caretaker does her duty with ease.

"That is a lovely shift," he comments, before heading off to find some remaining hand mine holes. Ones out in the open he fills with peppermint bark saplings, and ones nestled next to existing trees are treated painstakingly with a dose of snowmoss encouraged to grow against the trunks. "It does not look like much now, but I bet by Flowerbirth these will have started to thrive."

i've told you time and time again
i'm not as think as you drunk i am