[For all their wandering, bunking down between trees and in the cooler parts of the jungle with a hammock stretched out along the trunks or simply laid across the ground like a sleeping bag, the temple was the only landmark to which they could return with any regularity. It is not Central, but it is full of considerably fewer of those that would harass them, or run skittering away from their approach - even if it is equally bereft of those that might sell them ammunition, or additional equipment.]
[There is nonetheless marked relief when they catch sight of a familiar little shape by the wall; not evident in their stance, but certainly in the shine in their eyes as they draw closer. The shape she is making with the little floral blooms is unfamiliar, but...pleasing, nonetheless.]
[There's a valuable learning experience she's beginning to take away from living this awesome island life, in the sense she's not ready to run away the moment a shadow creeps up on her. Not that it takes more than a second to recognize their shape and see their face in the ruins entrance. Still, it's progress.
They really worry about her and she can't help to the feel the same. The scrapes and scratches she acquired running around that day aren't serious. They're nothing different from the typical injuries she gets stepping off a rock at the wrong time or leaning against a particularly bristly plant. If Drifter and Taako hadn't kept her by their side, it could've been worse. The injuries she's seen on people around the islets, and even on Lup, can attest to that.]
I'm okay. Nothing hurts right now.
[She twists the stems in her hand together, gently tugging to see if it will stay knotted. So far, so good.]
[That will have to be enough. They cannot help but be grateful for that. After a moment's careful consideration, the Drifter withdraws from within the folds of their cloak one of those sticks she's proffered, holding it ramrod-straight with a solemnity that perhaps doesn't quite befit the situation.]
kept me safe
[But the pinch of those dark eyes is a sincere if small indication of the warmth behind the words. They nod at her winding chain of flowers soon after, uncertain as to their purpose.]
[Her eyes fall to the stick they pull out, happy they've got it and that it's still in one piece. It's her own way of seeing into their life and the troubles they might be getting into. There doesn't seem to be any cracks and it looks sturdy as ever-good. The one she found will serve them just as well.]
Yes-
[And she holds the partial crown above her head, so they can see.]
A flower crown! It's fun. I like doing this sort of thing now.
[The Storyteller might not enjoy that she's pulling out the transportation flowers nonstop, but they seem to grow back fast. It's fine.]
[They've not had the opportunity or reason to indulge in something so...simple. Simple, because it does not appear to serve any apparent purpose; even the stick is meant to fend away combative creatures who may seek to see them dead. But this appears, conversely...]
[That's the question of the year, isn't it? The purpose is clear to her and she can feel it whenever she sets to work on her little task. It reminds her of Lup, Taako, the storyteller and all the kind hearts that have touched her since her arrival.
When she thinks about it, it makes sense to have Drifter get in on this activity too.]
You can feel it. I don't know-
[A pause]
I don't know the words to show that. You have to make it first.
[There is no simplicity in the answer to that question. They cannot discern the purpose of such a task simply by looking, but it seems harmless enough. The Drifter considers that silently only for a moment before settling down cross-legged opposite her.]
[This is a great day for Ren. She taught a baseball player about flower biology before, surely teaching someone how to make a flower crown will go the same way. There's a diagram in her knapsack, but she's going to try this the old fashioned way first.
She takes the partially started crown and leans forward to set it in Drifter's lap.]
I started this one. You can finish it.
[Would you look at that? Drifter gets the head start they deserve. She turns to the side, tugging her knapsack forward so it sits between them, flowers going every which way in the process. Not that it matters how they scatter because she grabs the bottom of the bag, pulling it up so more flow out.
They should be set to go now. She grabs two more and holds them up for Drifter to see. ]
Okay. You have to watch my hands. It's hard the first time.
[They handle the little twine of green and cream-yellow carefully, almost reverently. It may very well be the same sort of treasure that deserves such delicate treatment, and in the case that it is, they would not want to break it. They watch her motions with astute focus, the same they would devote to studying a new foe in combat to best discern their patterns and the best means to exploiting their weaknesses.]
[Slowly, they begin to copy her motions and thread one flower through the strands of green. The skin between their eyes pinches in concentration; the movements are delicate and precise, and on a much smaller scale than the Drifter is accustomed.]
[They hold up their own work after a moment, studying the slightly crooked but successful twining of the flower into the body of the crown.]
[Said the teacher to the pupil, beaming with pride. Crooked or not, taped up or not-it wouldn't make a difference to her. Her reaction would have been the same for person sitting before her. Her first attempt in the mighty flower crown arts took a chunk of the afternoon and more tape than she would care to admit. Seeing them pick it up so quickly is, well, not surprising. Seto would be the same way, she thinks.
Practiced as she is, her own movements are slow and she's taking her sweet time with every loop and twist.]
[She's proud of their progress. That eases the faint little frown puckering the skin between their eyes, and they set about twining more flowers gently into the small, looping chain. Upon closing the circle, they turn the blooms this way and that, debating the purpose of such an object.]
[She watches their progress and mimics the way they move their blooms on her own halfway finished crown, trying to keep them identical. As much as she can, in any case.]
It does something nice.
[They can't tell?
Expressing what she wants them to feel is difficult, held back by her simple vocabulary and a desire to shorten the process by holding their hand and share the feeling itself. The action itself gives her an idea though. Sometimes that can hold the same power as words and emotions. Maybe she can show them in that way.
She sets her crown on the ground beside her and lifts her hands up, holding them out between them.]
[A crown. So that is what it must be - perhaps possessing that same power that a flower clip contains. Nothing physical, nothing immediate, but some special energy drawn from the simple act of doing. Of being.]
[The Drifter glances at their somewhat clumsily made crown. Lifts it gently up - ]
[She expects them to place the crown in her hands. Plans on dropping it on the Drifter's head, somewhere on their gray helmet. Maybe even dangle it from the part that reminds her of a cat's ear.
But she forgot, for a moment, the reason she finds so much meaning in the actions of others now. That Seto isn't the only one that wanted to hold her hand anymore. Drifter doesn't need her to teach them-they help her feel that whenever they meet.
She's very lucky, is all she can think.
With a big smile, she reaches up to touch the petals, running her fingers across the entirety of the crown. ]
Lup said flowers make pretty things prettier.
[One hand unlatches the flower clip from her hair, the other reaching for her almost forgotten half-crown on the ground. She leans forward, and if the Drifter allows it, uses her clip to pin the crown to the front of their tunic. Enjoy the flower necklace!]
That's what she said. You were pretty. Now you're prettier.
[Pretty is not an adjective oft applied to them - at all, in fact. Their skin is the blueish shade that is frequently deserving of scorn, of harassment, of harsh language. They are a freak and should be ashamed of their heritage, the shade of their skin. Most drifters cover their faces, by the unspoken code of that occupation, but even their helm and mantle was not sufficient to hide the cobalt tint of their face, and the consequences of that were frequent.]
[There was simply no escaping it.]
[But...] [pretty.]
[They've never been...that.]
[They are lucky if their appearance is not innately offensive in some manner. Anything complimentary is - ]
[So shocked are they by the epithet that the necklace is pinned easily in place, and the Drifter's gloved, slightly pointed fingers touch the lips of those petals with a shocked tremor.]
[Now you're prettier.]
[Dutifully, through the patina of their awe, they reply.]
[For the first time in months, it reaches her. It doesn't cause a physical reaction like Shin's and it takes a moment for her to recognize that whatever feeling is inside of her, isn't fully her own. It's not a memory, even if she can recall the shocked feeling that overcame her the afternoon Lup weaved flowers into her hair and said those words to her. It's coming from someone, close by, who understands what it means to be called prety for the first time. And just as quick, it vanishes, leaving her with only Drifter's words hanging in front of her. Reading that is enough to keep the smile on her face.
And she doesn't get why surprise would overwhelm them in such a way. To her, they're pretty. Skin tinted to look like the sky, a helmet that reminds her of a cat, and a red cape that's so bright, she can never match the color no matter how many times she tries to draw them on the islets.]
It's okay. Lup surprised me too.
[It's okay. Her hands move to the crown again, pulling it forward so that it hangs over her forehead. Now she can see the flowers whenever she looks up. What a good crown they made!!]
I'll say it to you again. It'll feel different the next time.
[Their first emotion shouldn't be surprise and whatever it became, she can't say. Next time, she hopes it's something different. Something pleasant. Or maybe they'll get so used to hearing it, she'll never feel them again.
[She's astute. Their surprise may have been obvious - obvious enough to shine through the ink-dark of those eyes, the swathing of the cloth around their face. Either way, the soothing cadence of the words is not an unpleasant one.]
[You'll be happy.]
[The sensation now is unique enough, different enough, contented enough, for them to accept it as the peak of that happiness. Anything more would be more than they could possibly know what to do with.]
[Gratitude directed towards her is weird to accept and she feels like most of the credit should go to the flowers themselves. All she did was twist them together-nothing more.]
You can find me and I'll show you again.
[They seem to finally understand the purpose behind the crown and with how quickly they picked it up, it's unlikely they would need her help, but the offer stands and she will happily run them through the basics again. The problem now is that Drifter has made themself quite the flower model and she rubs the petals on the crown. Thinking. Hard. And eyeing the piece of their helmet that sticks out.]
I'll put this one on the ear.
[It's kind of a request, but also it's kind of not. It's really a warning, actually.]
[Perhaps it's not strictly necessary - the physical act of weaving the crown together is not difficult, and with practice, it will likely proceed to become easier in due time. But given how pleasant it was to learn, it seems a task far better suited to being performed with company.]
i would like that
[Perhaps they could show others, as well - some of the allies they've begun to make.]
it will not hurt
[With the assurance comes the slow bow of their head to present the point of their helm in better reach.]
[The only chance Drifter had to escape is gone now and it becomes apparent that her goal isn't to just drape the crown over their. No, not at all. It will not hurt might as well mean Do what you want.
And she does.
She fixes the way it dangles on the 'ear', turning it every which way like she's reorganizing an entire room and can't figure out where to put the couch. Eventually, she settles on a spot and keeps one finger on the stems to hold it in place against them. Her free hand digs deep into her knapsack for a roll of green tape from the last storytelling.
It takes only a moment for her to tear off a small piece, resume her crown holding position, and gently tape it their helmet. In a couple places, actually. Stop her.]
[They certainly hadn't expected that particular course of action, and their surprise is apparent in the startled blink of their eyes. Gingerly, they lift one hand to touch the point of each adhesive to the top of their helmet. It's reassuringly solid.]
[For however long until the flowers begin to wither, perhaps it can remain. The thought is not an unpleasant one; even cheering, in some respects.]
thank you
[There's no reason not to look styling while drifting.]
[That's a great question and it's one she mulls over, as she grabs flowers from the ground to poke into the crown so it's as packed as possible. ]
They'll die soon, but that's okay. They'll still be pretty.
[From the sun, heat and whatever other flower related issues may crop up. Not to mention the tape's adhesive-she doesn't know how long that will last. Not even a rough estimation. Awhile is the best answer she can give.
When the helmet crown is as full as it can be, she leans back to admire her friend.]
[Dried flowers can be just as beautiful as fresh ones, it's true. And as long as they are careful, there should always be more flowers to plait into little crowns and place on heads, or pin to cloaks. One further delicate touch ascertains the crown's position on their helmet, but then they sit back, evidently satisfied.]
[Two fingers outstretched, held out in a U-shape in front of their mantle, with that little drifty smile.]
[That's the creme de la creme of reactions and she's so happy. Their gratitude doesn't go unnoticed and even though she has a difficult time taking any sort of credit for this, she smiles all the same.
And raises her own hand, mimicking the u-shape they make with her own two fingers.]
We should thank the paper too. That thing showed me how to make them.
[Yes, let's thank the two page pamphlet. It's truly deserving of this mighty honor.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[There is nonetheless marked relief when they catch sight of a familiar little shape by the wall; not evident in their stance, but certainly in the shine in their eyes as they draw closer. The shape she is making with the little floral blooms is unfamiliar, but...pleasing, nonetheless.]
not hurt?
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They really worry about her and she can't help to the feel the same. The scrapes and scratches she acquired running around that day aren't serious. They're nothing different from the typical injuries she gets stepping off a rock at the wrong time or leaning against a particularly bristly plant. If Drifter and Taako hadn't kept her by their side, it could've been worse. The injuries she's seen on people around the islets, and even on Lup, can attest to that.]
I'm okay. Nothing hurts right now.
[She twists the stems in her hand together, gently tugging to see if it will stay knotted. So far, so good.]
Are you okay? Does anything hurt you?
no subject
[That will have to be enough. They cannot help but be grateful for that. After a moment's careful consideration, the Drifter withdraws from within the folds of their cloak one of those sticks she's proffered, holding it ramrod-straight with a solemnity that perhaps doesn't quite befit the situation.]
kept me safe
[But the pinch of those dark eyes is a sincere if small indication of the warmth behind the words. They nod at her winding chain of flowers soon after, uncertain as to their purpose.]
making something?
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Yes-
[And she holds the partial crown above her head, so they can see.]
A flower crown! It's fun. I like doing this sort of thing now.
[The Storyteller might not enjoy that she's pulling out the transportation flowers nonstop, but they seem to grow back fast. It's fine.]
Do you want this one?
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[Maybe it has its own purpose? They cannot say.]
what purpose?
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When she thinks about it, it makes sense to have Drifter get in on this activity too.]
You can feel it. I don't know-
[A pause]
I don't know the words to show that. You have to make it first.
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will try
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She takes the partially started crown and leans forward to set it in Drifter's lap.]
I started this one. You can finish it.
[Would you look at that? Drifter gets the head start they deserve. She turns to the side, tugging her knapsack forward so it sits between them, flowers going every which way in the process. Not that it matters how they scatter because she grabs the bottom of the bag, pulling it up so more flow out.
They should be set to go now. She grabs two more and holds them up for Drifter to see. ]
Okay. You have to watch my hands. It's hard the first time.
[It's not.]
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[Slowly, they begin to copy her motions and thread one flower through the strands of green. The skin between their eyes pinches in concentration; the movements are delicate and precise, and on a much smaller scale than the Drifter is accustomed.]
[They hold up their own work after a moment, studying the slightly crooked but successful twining of the flower into the body of the crown.]
like this?
no subject
[Said the teacher to the pupil, beaming with pride. Crooked or not, taped up or not-it wouldn't make a difference to her. Her reaction would have been the same for person sitting before her. Her first attempt in the mighty flower crown arts took a chunk of the afternoon and more tape than she would care to admit. Seeing them pick it up so quickly is, well, not surprising. Seto would be the same way, she thinks.
Practiced as she is, her own movements are slow and she's taking her sweet time with every loop and twist.]
You keep going like this and you can feel it.
[The purpose. Are you feeling it now, Mr. Krabs?]
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what does it do
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It does something nice.
[They can't tell?
Expressing what she wants them to feel is difficult, held back by her simple vocabulary and a desire to shorten the process by holding their hand and share the feeling itself. The action itself gives her an idea though. Sometimes that can hold the same power as words and emotions. Maybe she can show them in that way.
She sets her crown on the ground beside her and lifts her hands up, holding them out between them.]
Can I see your crown?
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[The Drifter glances at their somewhat clumsily made crown. Lifts it gently up - ]
[ - and places it on top of her head.]
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But she forgot, for a moment, the reason she finds so much meaning in the actions of others now. That Seto isn't the only one that wanted to hold her hand anymore. Drifter doesn't need her to teach them-they help her feel that whenever they meet.
She's very lucky, is all she can think.
With a big smile, she reaches up to touch the petals, running her fingers across the entirety of the crown. ]
Lup said flowers make pretty things prettier.
[One hand unlatches the flower clip from her hair, the other reaching for her almost forgotten half-crown on the ground. She leans forward, and if the Drifter allows it, uses her clip to pin the crown to the front of their tunic. Enjoy the flower necklace!]
That's what she said. You were pretty. Now you're prettier.
1/2
[There was simply no escaping it.]
[But...]
[pretty.]
[They've never been...that.]
[They are lucky if their appearance is not innately offensive in some manner. Anything complimentary is - ]
[It doesn't make sense.]
[How could one such as them be pretty?]
no subject
[Now you're prettier.]
[Dutifully, through the patina of their awe, they reply.]
so are you
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And she doesn't get why surprise would overwhelm them in such a way. To her, they're pretty. Skin tinted to look like the sky, a helmet that reminds her of a cat, and a red cape that's so bright, she can never match the color no matter how many times she tries to draw them on the islets.]
It's okay. Lup surprised me too.
[It's okay. Her hands move to the crown again, pulling it forward so that it hangs over her forehead. Now she can see the flowers whenever she looks up. What a good crown they made!!]
I'll say it to you again. It'll feel different the next time.
[Their first emotion shouldn't be surprise and whatever it became, she can't say. Next time, she hopes it's something different. Something pleasant. Or maybe they'll get so used to hearing it, she'll never feel them again.
She can only hope for that.]
You'll be happy.
no subject
[You'll be happy.]
[The sensation now is unique enough, different enough, contented enough, for them to accept it as the peak of that happiness. Anything more would be more than they could possibly know what to do with.]
thank you
for showing me
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You can find me and I'll show you again.
[They seem to finally understand the purpose behind the crown and with how quickly they picked it up, it's unlikely they would need her help, but the offer stands and she will happily run them through the basics again. The problem now is that Drifter has made themself quite the flower model and she rubs the petals on the crown. Thinking. Hard. And eyeing the piece of their helmet that sticks out.]
I'll put this one on the ear.
[It's kind of a request, but also it's kind of not. It's really a warning, actually.]
Will it hurt that thing?
no subject
i would like that
[Perhaps they could show others, as well - some of the allies they've begun to make.]
it will not hurt
[With the assurance comes the slow bow of their head to present the point of their helm in better reach.]
no subject
And she does.
She fixes the way it dangles on the 'ear', turning it every which way like she's reorganizing an entire room and can't figure out where to put the couch. Eventually, she settles on a spot and keeps one finger on the stems to hold it in place against them. Her free hand digs deep into her knapsack for a roll of green tape from the last storytelling.
It takes only a moment for her to tear off a small piece, resume her crown holding position, and gently tape it their helmet. In a couple places, actually. Stop her.]
Now you can run with it. It won't fly away.
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[For however long until the flowers begin to wither, perhaps it can remain. The thought is not an unpleasant one; even cheering, in some respects.]
thank you
[There's no reason not to look styling while drifting.]
how long will it stay
no subject
They'll die soon, but that's okay. They'll still be pretty.
[From the sun, heat and whatever other flower related issues may crop up. Not to mention the tape's adhesive-she doesn't know how long that will last. Not even a rough estimation. Awhile is the best answer she can give.
When the helmet crown is as full as it can be, she leans back to admire her friend.]
We can tape more to your head when that happens.
[For the low, low price of one drifty smile.]
no subject
[Two fingers outstretched, held out in a U-shape in front of their mantle, with that little drifty smile.]
thank you for showing me
no subject
And raises her own hand, mimicking the u-shape they make with her own two fingers.]
We should thank the paper too. That thing showed me how to make them.
[Yes, let's thank the two page pamphlet. It's truly deserving of this mighty honor.]
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