[ wow... maybe famine is really into breathing meat, too. ]
I think silence can be enough to kill a person. Even if you prefer to be alone, there's only so much time you be without others before it start to pick away at you.
[ they pull out... a clear liquid. ]
I'll have it completely ready for you by tomorrow, since it needs to be done overnight.
[ `I think silence can be enough to kill a person.` well this is hitting very close to home and making his stomach twist, so, he doesn't respond for a long moment. ]
... Right. Would you like me to return to pick it up?
[ watching this, but putting his hands behind his back to observe rather than continue to try and poke everything. ]
Actually ... Lavender really does sound lovely. I suppose it might liven up the incredibly chilly bath one can take behind the barn. It can make quite a nice tea as well! Assuming you have, ah, hot water. Apart from that, if you have any herbs, I'd be most appreciative.
Perhaps ... consider it a small comfort that his work will not go unused, or neglected.
I'm not much of a gardener - never had space in the tower - but if you'd like assistance with the upkeep, I wouldn't mind lending a hand. Especially considering your offer to share.
[ they put the jar down, and gesture for him to wait a second. pestilence will wander over to a potted plant in the corner, a yellow rose, before returning to gale. ]
Here. Put your hand on it, gently, and tell me what you notice. Anything at all about it.
[ he will watch them carefully and then doing as he's told - reaching out a bit hesitantly to touch the rose, glancing up at Pestilence, a little awkward. ]
Normally, I suppose I would reach out and see if I could feel anything through the Weave from it, but ...
[ well. no magic here. is he supposed to feel anything or is this vibes alone. ]
[ vibes alone it is. well, he's got a poetry hobby, so instead of trying to make stuff up about gardening which is not his special interest, he'll lean the other way. letting his fingers touch the damp soil. ]
Alright. The yellow rose - Friendship, isn't it? Or sometimes jealousy. They generally aren't as fragrant as their company, so perhaps there is a bit of that inadequacy in the meaning sometimes. A friend who might want something more, covetous.
`Sad Autumn is the miser of thy gold; But dead and meek Thy petals speak More than thy beauty told.`
[ there's a pause, and they will place a hand over his. he will feel a surge of something-- a feeling of growth, warmth, something small slowly breathing in and out. ]
His petals say that he wants a little more water in the morning, because he doesn't think he's getting quite enough. And he'd like to be move closer to a window, since the foggy weather outside makes it harder for the sunlight to get through.
He sounds a mite particular, but I suppose I have my own foibles.
[ dont tease the plant he doesn't know what sarcasm is. he'll leave his hand there for the moment still, a little lost in thought. ]
The-- Last place we were traveling through was known colloquially as the Shadow-Cursed lands. A fierce and deadly battle had torn apart the town and the surrounding wilderness. This was once a beautiful and peaceful place, favored by druids and blessed by a spirit of the land. A rarity, in this day and age.
It was wrought apart by the grief and rage of a lost man, intent on revenge for the sins the world had set upon his shoulders. He called upon the goddess Shar to end his enemies, and she granted him her so-called favors. For over a century, the entropy of Shar's hatred allowed nothing living to remain for very long. The shadows took the light from everything that dared venture into it, leaving only their regrets and fears. It was a terrible place. Death and fog and despair.
In the midst of that, we found Night Orchids. Flowers blooming despite it all. Isn't that funny?
The power of something so very small, growing despite everything. The soil can be ravaged, and everything good sucked out of it-- nutrients, life, even magic if it's there. But eventually, something will grow again. Even if it's not within our lifetime.
[ they look at the plant a moment longer, before shifting their attention to gale. ]
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gently tilting the jar, taking a look at the fingers. ]
I can certainly tell you from experience that silence is harsher than any words at all.
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I think silence can be enough to kill a person. Even if you prefer to be alone, there's only so much time you be without others before it start to pick away at you.
[ they pull out... a clear liquid. ]
I'll have it completely ready for you by tomorrow, since it needs to be done overnight.
no subject
... Right. Would you like me to return to pick it up?
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[ the liquid gets poured into the other jar, and they pat it slightly. they don't comment on the pause. ]
Need anything else? Apparently lavender is a popular plant at the moment to take some samples of from the garden.
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Actually ... Lavender really does sound lovely. I suppose it might liven up the incredibly chilly bath one can take behind the barn. It can make quite a nice tea as well! Assuming you have, ah, hot water. Apart from that, if you have any herbs, I'd be most appreciative.
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[ uh. well. ]
Anyway, he wouldn't mind.
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Perhaps ... consider it a small comfort that his work will not go unused, or neglected.
I'm not much of a gardener - never had space in the tower - but if you'd like assistance with the upkeep, I wouldn't mind lending a hand. Especially considering your offer to share.
no subject
[ they put the jar down, and gesture for him to wait a second. pestilence will wander over to a potted plant in the corner, a yellow rose, before returning to gale. ]
Here. Put your hand on it, gently, and tell me what you notice. Anything at all about it.
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Normally, I suppose I would reach out and see if I could feel anything through the Weave from it, but ...
[ well. no magic here. is he supposed to feel anything or is this vibes alone. ]
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Make an attempt!
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Alright. The yellow rose - Friendship, isn't it? Or sometimes jealousy. They generally aren't as fragrant as their company, so perhaps there is a bit of that inadequacy in the meaning sometimes. A friend who might want something more, covetous.
`Sad Autumn is the miser of thy gold;
But dead and meek
Thy petals speak
More than thy beauty told.`
Hm. I don't remember where I read that one.
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[ there's a pause, and they will place a hand over his. he will feel a surge of something-- a feeling of growth, warmth, something small slowly breathing in and out. ]
Thy petals speak!
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Yes?
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[ gale will get a twinge of slight dryness. ]
Everything has needs, huh?
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[ dont tease the plant he doesn't know what sarcasm is. he'll leave his hand there for the moment still, a little lost in thought. ]
The-- Last place we were traveling through was known colloquially as the Shadow-Cursed lands. A fierce and deadly battle had torn apart the town and the surrounding wilderness. This was once a beautiful and peaceful place, favored by druids and blessed by a spirit of the land. A rarity, in this day and age.
It was wrought apart by the grief and rage of a lost man, intent on revenge for the sins the world had set upon his shoulders. He called upon the goddess Shar to end his enemies, and she granted him her so-called favors. For over a century, the entropy of Shar's hatred allowed nothing living to remain for very long. The shadows took the light from everything that dared venture into it, leaving only their regrets and fears. It was a terrible place. Death and fog and despair.
In the midst of that, we found Night Orchids. Flowers blooming despite it all. Isn't that funny?
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[ they look at the plant a moment longer, before shifting their attention to gale. ]
Life is a bit funny like that.