THE STARS SHINE TONIGHT // open, return to activity + flower crowns

[GORDON CIPHER.]

Gordon had locked herself in her room for a couple of days, mostly because her paranoia and anxiety got the worst of her, but eventually, the little she-cat calmed herself down and was able to make her way out of her room again. But Gordon didn't just want to randomly appear again, no, and she certainly wasn't going to be able to hold a meet-and-greet. But you know what she could do? Make flower crowns for everybody.

So that's what Gordon was doing currently. The little she-cat was in the gardens, making flower crowns for anybody who happened to pass by.

★ i'll need you to reassure me i didn't waste a verse ━

[Margaery]

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[color=#b14767]"Flower crowns?"

The observation fell easily from the lips of the chocolate point, a gleam of intrigue dancing within stormy eyes. She had actually be en route to her gardens, the sudden urge to sit and read among the flowers that she cared so deeply for all but overwhelming her. [color=#b14767]"Might I have one?" Margaery's voice was soft, contemplative, as she strode closer to Gordon, the faintest of smiles dancing across her features. Had death humbled her? Changed her? No, not really. She had been gone for three days though and was still dealing with the aftershocks of her untimely demise. Oh well, it was better to not make her distress public and besides, it warmed her heart to see her clanmates taking advantage of the sanctuary her gardens offered.

[BASTILLEPAW]

AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT

Bastille was intrigued to see Gordon out and about, having been half convinced she might never leave her room after a hectic few days. Was she hiding from everyone out of stress? Spite? Distaste? Who knew. She was a timid thing, and he wasn't one to judge fellow introverts, but it was nice to see signs of life, he supposed. That seemed like the sort of thing he was supposed to be excited about, but whatever. "Yo," he greeted with a yawn as he joined them, blinking at the flowers in a bored fashion. He could go for a few shots, not flowers, but these were... interesting, he supposed. "Uh... Guess I'll watch."

[align=center]BASTILLEPRISONER — ASTRAL SERAPH — TAGS

[Character Graveyard.]

LOST IN SKIES OF POWDERED GOLD ✧ Lunafreya Nox Fleuret

Luna had not seen Gordon for the last few days, so she had decided to stop by the female's room and check on her. She hadn't gotten an response, so she had left the female alone, despite her concern for Gordon.

"Could I possibly have a flower crown, Gordon?" Luna asked as she walked over.

© madi

[GORDON CIPHER.]

Funny how the first people to show up were the three people Gordon trusted the most. That was totally okay though, she was completely fine with that; she'd much rather have Margaery, Bastille, and Luna here to help her nerves if she got too nervous around somebody new. They were her comfort, so to speak. Lunafreya more than any of them. It was weird how Gordon clung to just one person, but she's always been like this. Her brother was proof of that, and since he wasn't around very often, well... she needed another comfort person, somebody who she was comfortable and felt safe with.

"Of course!" Gordon chirped to both Margaery and Lunafreya, briefly pausing from the one she was currently working on to give the two she-cats one she'd previously made. Her eyes were bright with happiness, and she was clearly proud of her work (even if they were a bit crooked). The little she-cat dipped her head in greeting to Bastille. "Are-are you sure?" She asked, though she wasn't hurt that he didn't want one. Bastille did have a reputation to uphold, after all.

★ i'll need you to reassure me i didn't waste a verse ━

[BASTILLEPAW]

AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT

Bastille would probably be at a loss to know that he was a comfort to anyone, much less to someone with such a timid nature. It wasn't that he tried to put other on edge, per se -- it was simply that he tended to walk a fine line between in control and not, and when he wasn't he was... chaotic, might be a good word. Chaotic and vengeful and impulse and bringing down storms with the twists in his emotions. He had never claimed to be a good person, even if he might want or try to be, and while his general apathy and typical nonchalance in the face of others' quirks or insecurities might be a nice change of pace for some, he wouldn't consider it very... comforting. Maybe a relief, in a sense -- most could count on him not to over-react or make a big deal out of things (so long as they weren't anything that set Pollutedsoul off, that was). He would never look at Gordon as anything other than normal or baby her for being closed off.

As it was, though, he did feel vaguely compelled to try to care. To give the impression he could feel something, or that he was capable of connecting. It seemed like what he was supposed to do, anyway. Why turn her down when he didn't even feel strongly one way or another about flower crowns? Seemed like pointless refusal, when he was meant to be a welcoming member of society, or something. As Gordon's prompting, he paused and then shrugged. "Why not, I guess," he supplied, peering at her assortment of flowers idly, "What kind'a flower do you think I am?"

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[GORDON CIPHER.]

Sure, Bastille had a chaotic air around him and was pretty grumpy for the most part, but Gordon felt safe around him. He wasn't nearly as bad as her father, or so she thought, anyway. She didn't know of the other souls that lived in Bastille, so of course she'd think he was safe. And honestly, it was just because he didn't seem to really care for her quirks, especially because back when she lived with Caesar, her quirks were what he berated her about. Same thing with her brother, too.

Gordon's tail flicked in thought over Bastilleprisoner's question, once again pausing in the crown she was making now. She'd have to completely start a new one, but hey! She was giving the leader a flower crown! How cool was that? "Um... what about this-this one?" She asked, gently holding out a snapdragon after searching for one. They died pretty easily, but they were still really pretty to her. There weren't very many snapdragons around the garden, either, so she'd probably just use the one she held and then used some other flowers to finish off the crown.

★ i'll need you to reassure me i didn't waste a verse ━

[COSMIIX]

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[b]¼  RAPTOR PACK— FERAL — THE ASCENDANTS

[div style="width: 51%; text-align: justify; font-size: 10pt; letter-spacing: 0px; font-family: georgia; color: #476d66;"]The Utahraptor had caught the scent of several small mammals and the sweet aroma of flowers, that's where most of the leaf eaters came to though she didn't see any of those instead she saw the small group of small mammals. Most of them were cats and well, Charlie already had a full belly so she needn't eat anymore since she had went out hunting in the company eating quite a bit of foxes. Chuffing slightly in a bout of curiosity, the Utahraptor finally approached the small group tilting her head at this sudden gathering though none of her siblings seemed to be present at the moment. Her sickle claw would tap onto the ground trying to figure out why the little cat was messing around with the flowers, they weren't eating them though plants in general were disgusting, the aroma not so much but the taste was absolutely horrid.

[Margaery]

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Margaery inspected the flower crown with what only could be considered appreciation. The faintest of smiles would curve her chocolate lips, her eyes bright. She had made many flower crowns in her long life, ones that she had adorned with jewels and roses and her own, special breed of dedication and others that had been made with thorns and nettles and pain. She had always given the former of her works to her parents, relishing in the affection they gave her - gave Maarit- for a job well done. She could recall teetering on her rear legs as she struggled to position a blue one atop of Caroline’s head, a laugh dripping from the maw of her mother, her father watching with obvious amusement nearby. That had been so long ago though... back when they were still mortal and the temptation of blood and power had yet to corrupt them. Staring at Gordon’s crown, she realized with sudden clarity that she missed those times. Missed being fragile. Vulnerable. Innocent.

So lost in thought, she had missed the conversation that had transpired between Gordon and Bast, attention only returning to reality as Charlie arrived. She felt immediately on edge, gray eyes quickly traversing the length of her personal garden as she hoped and prayed that the dinosaur did not possess the intention to destroy it. If anything, it appeared curious, that toe tapping of hers being Margaery’s only indicater. Perhaps if they ignored it, it would depart, leaving her roses and lilies and geraniums untouched.

Inhaling a deep breath, the Lunar Lieutenant would force her gaze to fall upon Gordon, that appreciation (albeit muted now) once more embracing her features. [color=#b14767]”Thank you, it’s lovely.”

[BASTILLEPAW]

AND I'M JUST A DEAD MAN WALKING TONIGHT

Bastille cocked his head to the side as he peered at the flowers she showed him, possessing no finer knowledge of flowers himself to figure out what it was or if it symbolized anything. There were a lot of random categories he could detail fairly well but this? Was not one of them. To him it was just aesthetics, and he supplied in a drawl, ”Hm, yes, I think those speak to my souls.” The slight dramatization was intentional, it seemed, if only because Bast didn’t actually know anything about her choice and he had a vague sense of humor.

He glanced up at the flicker of movement, and his gaze found Charlie idly. ”Hi, Delta,” he greeted casually, seeing how the baby seemed to be regarding them, before he made a brief huffing vibration in the back of his throat, something he’d heard Beta do frequently when he greeted her. He had no idea what it actually meant, but eh. He had no idea what any of the weird noises he echoed back at them meant.

It took him a moment to remember that Gordon was... well. A timid person in general, let alone near the raptor. His gaze flickered back to her, and he said, low, ”Don’t run. She won’t hurt you if you don’t run.” Was it rude to assume that she might bolt? Maybe, but Bast liked to consider it character study. He would rather take the risk of offending her than seeing her become Baby Blue’s next snack.

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