PULL THE RIPCORD ☆ crafting

[michael t.]

DEALER ❝ MIKEY ❞ THE TYPHOON

It was Roan's birthday. That was something simple enough to remember, considering Roan was his nephew. Unfortunately, ever since he had hit around nine months old, the soothsayer had never really been a big fan of actually celebrating his birthday. Hell, he hadn't even really done anything when he had hit a year old, something that had shocked Michael pretty thoroughly. Still, despite Roan's reluctance to celebrate his own birthday, Michael had decided that he was going to make something for the medic, something that he had heard the other complaining about earlier while in the tavern – his smell. The smell of death had started to cling to Roan's pelt, a side effect of his new zombified body. It wasn't hard to tell why that would be unfortunate, especially when one was meant to be working with the sick.

As a result of this, Michael had come up with a gift idea that he thought was pretty ingenious. He had taken one of the straw sun hats that Roxie had left at his house, and he had then gone out and collected a bunch of sweet smelling flowers. Not only that, but he also nabbed a few herbs from the temple itself, knowing that the scent of herbs was already familiar to Roan, and would no doubt be a comfort. Once he had all of the supplies that he needed, the bobcat curled up in front of his house, beginning to weave the flowers into the hat, and carefully placing the herbs in the brim. As he worked, he found himself muttering, a sigh leaving him, "I really hope you can't get splinters from working with straw..." Just the thought made him grimace, imagining straw piercing the soft pads of his feet as he worked.

AND ALL THIS TIME I HAVE BEEN LYING
OH, LYING IN SECRET TO MYSELF

— Reggan

[Keona.]

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keona sibéal ní faoláin.
the typhoon.
the blind dealer.
information.

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[div style="width: 360px; font-family: palatino; color: #2a4971; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px;"]Idir brí is idir muir, Tá mé i dtiúin

Birthdays... Were strange, with the dealer.  She didn't mind celebrating them.  She didn't pay them much mind either.  Fae lived... A long time.  Long enough Keona didn't particularly notice she was already much older than she looked.

Besides, the tiny wildcat didn't love the idea of a bunch of crewmates giving her attention for a whole day.  She enjoyed her space.  Even among close friends and family, she rather things be kept simple.

So she understood, when she heard her half-brother didn't really have any plans.  The petite fae didn't know if it was for personal preference, or some other reason, but she wouldn't push the matter either. 

She still had a gift in mind though.  It was always nice to receive something after all.

That in mind, when she smelt flowers and herbs and straw, she wondered what on earth Michael was up to.  Muttering about splinters.  Herbs often made her think of Roan, but the straw confused her, pale hues flickering in thought as she padded up to the other dealer.

"Maybe," seas if she knew.  "What're you tryin' to make?"

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© MADI

[salem]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: georgia; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"]SALEM | As many times as his siblings called him 'scarecrow' jokingly, the dark-furred youth knew of working with straw.  Ease sinking into his spirit at the familiar scent reminding him of the season it was, dark eyes curious as they rested on the one weaving flowers and herbs into it.

Keona's soft voice lulled him closer to the two dealers, lingering back before stepping forward.  "He's working with a hat," he would offer his friend quietly.

Politely, Salem passed a small smile towards Michael, sitting besides Keona.  "I've never gotten a splinter from straw before, but I don't know for sure.  Just be careful, I guess."  The advice felt stale despite his genuine care, but the kodkod had little else to offer, attempting to run through his memories of straw -- no splinters in his paws, as far as he recalled.

"What're you doing this for?" Salem hardly meant to assume he knew of Michael's fashion choices, but he had never seen the bobcat wear a hat flourished with flowers and herbs before -- this felt more like a special occasion than not, though the beta knew of nothing happening on the island, unfortunately out of the loop of a certain birthday.

[ROXANNE R.]

me dejaste, me dejaste en un tango

Roxanne would walk over with both of her ears perked forward noticing the duo that had approached her brother who seemed to be messing around with a straw hat that she must've left over at his house. Her tail lashed behind her as she tilted her head to the side "I see you're making use of that straw hat that I left at your house." Roxanne said with an amused snort leaving her, she sat down slowly as she curled her tail over her paws neatly with eyes closed for a moment. Her eyes would reopen slowly, she could remember the several times she had spent Roan's birthday together with just a cake that the both of them would share.

She found it to be traditional, small, but it was special to the both of them or so, that's how she felt about it. "I'm sure that he'll love it." Rox would continue to say with a slow nod of her cranium,  her mismatched gaze locked onto her brother though she would watch Keona and Salem through the corner of her eye only to hum in agreement "Yeah. I never heard of getting a splinter from straw before... But try not to be the first, Michael."

EN EL ALMA SE ME FUE, SE ME FUE EL CORAZÓN
YA NO TENGO GANAS DE VIVIR, PORQUE NO TE PUEDO CONVENCER
QUE NO TE VENDAS, ROXANNE

— Reggan