isleofavalon | [Catch-All] Making Home

🧙 WHO: Aerith Gainsborough, You
⚔️️ WHAT: Catch-All
🕒 WHEN: March
🗺️ WHERE: Camelot, Everywhere We Need to Be
⚠️ WARNINGS: None, Will react accordingly.

01. It's Bunny Season

[Aerith has spent no shortage of time trying to get acquainted with the locals of Camelot and form positive relationships with them. It might not be the Midgar slums, but it's something similar in the way of a community. If she's going to be here for some time, then it stands to reason she ought to try to make it somewhat like home.

Hunting down a royal angora rabbit seems like the perfect way to go about that. At the quest board, she's loosely woven her hands together. And then she decides to get to work and make her rounds to the various bunny cafes.

There's no shortage of them.]

Oh, aren't you cute. A little pudgy, though. [She says with a grin, lifting a bunny as she's searching for particular traits of Sir Fuzzlerton the Cad. But the truth is, she doesn't know very much about rabbits and isn't wholly certain of what she's looking for.]

I can't tell if you look like a Sir Fuzzlerton or not.

[So she decides to hold up said bunny to the nearest cafe patron or visitor. Or possibly another person searching for the same rabbit.] Does this look like a Sir Fuzzlerton to you?

02. Harvest Moon: An Age of Camelot

[Aerith lifts a hand and draws wrist across her forehead as she looses a soft sigh. Being able to help with the fields is another thing that makes her think of home and the flowers that she tends there. She's been happy enough to lose herself in it, too, humming as she works in the soil.

Eventually she makes her way for the hay and the horses to lend a hand there as well. All in all, it's a constructive use of her time. Much better than doing nothing at all and a great way of keeping her from overthinking her situation.]

Hey. [She addresses the nearest to her as she points to a bale of hay.] Do you think you could help me move this? I want to bring it closer to the horses, so they can eat, but I don't think I can carry it on my own.

[Yes, she's already tried and probably looked pretty funny doing so. Bales of hay look deceptively light. Aerith has underestimated their true power.]

03. Flower Crowns

Hm...

[Aerith thumbs at her chin thoughtfully, the hint of a frown playing into her features. She's heard it repeatedly. Many of the merchants and locals of the town have voiced their inability to get to the flowers they would ordinarily use. It's springtime and the outskirts are no short of lovely, but Camelot itself looks a little plain without the variety of colour.

But dragons... That's probably not something a silver tongue can talk through. Basically, she knows she can't do it on her own. She'll need some help, so maybe she can convince an innocent (or not-so-inncoent bystander).

There's only one way to find out. Maybe you're shopping. Maybe you're training. Maybe you're just taking in the sights. Wherever you might be, there's an Aerith popping up ~~like a daisy~~ at your side with a smile.]

Hi there! Do you think I could borrow you for a little?

[And by a little, she has no idea if it genuinely is a little. For all she knows, this could be an all-day endeavour.]

04.Smoothies Like Jagger

[After keeping herself so occupied with the going-on's in Camelot, Aerith is overjoyed to see smoothie vendors in no short supply. Maybe it's intentional in the face of the coming equinox. It certainly seems like everyone has been keeping busy.

With a grateful exchange of the smoothie peddler she's stopped by, she becomes one Strawberry-Rose smoothie richer and takes a long moment to indulge.

It hits the spot.]

Ohhh, that's great! I hope these aren't a temporary thing. I could use a few more, honestly. Maybe I can get my hands on the recipe.

[If not for her to make it, then maybe she can find someone else to do so.]

[OOC: If the above don't strike your fancy, please feel free to PP me at

ofthesky, or send me a PM. I'm happy to write closed starts for those who may be interested.]

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Hmm...

[ He glances about then points to a patch of white bell flowers. ]

Mayhap some of those, if you could. Go on. Leave the little ones to me.

[ Without further ado, he wanders forward. The dragons immediately gather protectively around their patch, some few keeping an eye on Aerith. He halts a safe distance away and sinks into a crouch. ]

Hello there. Are these your flowers? They're quite nice, aren't they?

[Her green gaze moves between Emet and the dragons he's addressing and only in moments when she feels they're particularly distracted does she attempt to quietly make way for the nearest flowerbed of bell flowers.

Considering how reluctant he seemed to be to accompany her, she can't help smiling. He sounds kind when he's speaking to the dragons. Whether that's sincerity or just a front she could hardly say. It's simply amusing.

She crouches, moves lightly, gaze ever switching and when she's closer enough, she makes an effort to weave herself around a small dragon, who seems about as guarded and perplexed in which is the more threatening, one Emet-Selch, or one Aerith.]

[ The young dragons soon make it plain that they are not so easy to sway. Emet-Selch is cajoled into weaving an impromptu crown to declare his intentions, which he does with almost saintly, steady patience. Is it because they're dragons? Because they're young? Whatever the reason, he quietly tells the dragons a story from his youth, involving a friend who adored a particular type of bloom in his home star. Aerith can easily eavesdrop if she wishes. No names are ever mentioned. ]

This flower means 'innocent desire'. And this one is--

[ And so on and so forth until even the dragon eyeing Aerith grows intrigued about what Emet is making and slinks over to take a look. ]

[She's wearing a smile. Not necessarily because this is the most easy-going situation, but because the sight of Emet making a crown out of flowers and telling stories is... undeniably cute, though she suspects he would very much not like it if he was referred to as such. She does listen without much judgement and little more than curiosity.

She uses the moment he takes the attention of the one nearest her before she makes a quiet go for a patch of the flowers in question. Perhaps to any other, they might simply pluck stem from the ground and be done with it, but that isn't how she does things. As she kneels down, she draws hair behind her ear and using her hands, unearths each flower in its entirety, roots and all.

Notably because she wishes to grow some back home and that's the best way to do so. She can give Emet the real blooms and take the roots for herself to grow more.]

[ In the end, it turns out the dragons know a lot about the language of flowers themselves and teach him some things about local (or at least fae) interpretations. With them he creates a crown of flowers that is...not the best in construction but is at least earnest.

It looks silly on Emet-Selch's head. He bears the indignity with a pained smile whilst weaving smaller versions for the dragonets. Covert glances are thrown Aerith's way to check on her progress. He will switch to stories once the topic of flower language is exhausted, dragging out the time until she's finished gathering the blooms she needs. ]

[She tries not to get too distracted. She does try, but the imagery of Emet in a flower crown and having his bonding time with smaller dragons is... distracting. (In a good way.)

But eventually, she does manage to fill the small basket she's brought with her with mostly flowers and a collection of cuttings and roots alike, unsure which might be more useful for replanting purposes. When she's done, she lifts a hand and waves it back and forth a few moments before trying to find a way to inconspicuously weave her way back around the dragons he's so masterfully captivated.

It's been a surprisingly easy task, but maybe that's just a testament to how good Emet is at these sorts of things.]

[ He almost misses her waving at him, caught up in his tale of a dragon who fiercely defends its mortal lover against all manner of horrid knights. It wouldn't do to leave a good story hanging. So he continues, weaving his eventual way to the end where the mortal woman and dragon decide to become one to end the fighting betwixt their peoples.

(If only the real story had ended so happily.) ]

Ah, look at the time. I must be going. Perhaps I can return another day.

[ He doesn't phrase it as a question but the dragonets still clamour for him come back. Emet-Selch cannot help but smile faintly. Sometimes children are not so bad. ]

No, I cannot come every day, but later this week perhaps...

[ After finally satisfying them with a promise to return, he manages to escape them and rejoin Aerith. ]

[Aerith, again, makes a note to have Emet regale her with stories at another time when they aren't busy trying to distract dragonlings from being overly protective of their flowers. His stories make her think of some of the books she's read when she was younger.

But all stories come to an end and Emet's are no exception. The dragonets, transparently delighted by his tales, bring a smile to Aerith's face. That's cute. From looking at him, she wouldn't have imagined him to be so good at handling them.

When he rejoins her, she offers her basket over to him. He's free to take what he'd like.]

You made that seem like you do it all the time. Is that a hidden talent of yours? Enchanting others with stories?

Hardly. I merely have several lifetimes worth of experiences from which to draw upon.

[ He doesn't seem like he wants to elaborate. He gives a short nod of thanks and chooses a few flowers from her basket. Much of them he leaves to her. ]

Thank you. I hope that you found everything you needed.

[At first, she thinks he's teasing, but that he doesn't clarify and that he doesn't seem interested at all in explaining implies he might be more serious than she originally thought.

Several lifetimes worth of experience.

Maybe the Cetra in some respects aren't so different. Death is hardly the end to a chapter, after all, especially when one simply returns to the source of life. Doesn't that mean they always exist in one form or another?]

I see... [She eyes her basket, feeling quite satisfied with their misadventure.] Yes, I think so! Plenty to have a good start with. I'm looking forward to planting them. If you need more, I should be able to make that happen without future run-ins with dragons.

[ He nods. There appears to be a flicker of relief in his eyes. Despite appearances, handling children is not his forte and he isn't looking forward to entertaining the dragonlings again. But he promised he would, and he never goes back on a promise if he can help it. ]

Good. I hope your garden flourishes. My thanks again for these.

[ He bows slightly, hand across his chest as he carefully holds the flowers he picked out. Once he straightens, he turns with a wave over his shoulder and heads off. ]

Thank you. Let me know if there's anything I can do for you.

[As he turns and offers his wave, she wiggles her fingers in his departure, wondering what she can do to more properly offer him some thanks. Maybe with some time, she'll be able to think of something well-suited.

She'll find a way. Somehow. Whether he wants her to or not.]

[Catch-All] Making Home

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