PILEDRIVER WALTZ | pressing flowers

[dovedeparture]

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As someone whose body housed an immortal spirit, Dovedeparture did not often find new hobbies. She had given most everything a try once or twice, but she had recently stumbled upon something new. It was a nice time filler, and more importantly, it relaxed her mind.

The snowy creature had always harbored a love of flowers. They were delicate and beautiful, but it seemed they always faded too soon. She knew that was how life operated: growing, blossoming gorgeously, withering, and returning to the ground. While the decay of life could not always be prevented, it was possible to preserve the beauty of flora - it was the simple art of pressing flowers between the pages of a book.

A few days prior, Dovedeparture had located a small patch of poppy flowers. The deep red color was incredibly eye-catching, and it was then that she decided to test her luck at pressing. After picking the poppies, the wildcat borrowed a few large books from the Lighthouse (making sure to leave a tiny IOU note behind), and was given a few pieces of parchment paper from a kindly elder member of the Typhoon. Once all the necessary items were located, Dove returned to her hut. She snipped the flower stems to an appropriate length, placed them in a cradle of parchment paper, and stuck them in the middle of the heaviest book she had taken. From there, the angel waited.

Fast forward to present day, and she was eager to see the end result. Now sitting outside, enjoying the evening sunlight, the lynx opened the first book. A smile ran across her maw as she gently took one of the poppies. It was as red and marvelous as the day it had been plucked from the earth. Dovedeparture collected the rest of the flowers - 12 in all -, and sat them gently beside her in a small basket.

Quite pleased with herself, the guardian angel began working to set up another pressing. She had already collected a few wildflowers from the jungle and hoped they turned out as nicely as the poppy flowers. As she slowly but steadily toyed with the task, she wondered if she ought to start making tons of these for decoration purposes. Perhaps the rapscallion pirate group had a soft spot for floral gifts as well as interior design.

[url=https://beastsofbeyond.com/index.php?topic=11884.msg67872#msg67872][color=#3d3332]tags

[bubblegum]

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GOLDENLUXURY ROUX

I HEARD, I HEARD ACROSS A MOONLIT SEA
THE OLD VOICE WARNING ME

BEWARE, BEWARE THE DAUGHTER OF THE SEA
BEWARE, BEWARE OF ME.

information — plotting

Hobbies were something the tigress had indulged herself with often as a child, learning anything and everything she could. If she did a wide variety of activities, that simply meant she'd be more useful, a better friend, and more interesting in general. Goldie had picked up painting, inventing, crafting, reading, writing, cooking, healing, planning, and anything else one could think of. Spreading herself too thin is something she has always done, and her younger days were certainly no exception. These days, however, her priorities have changed. Her positions have changed. Her mindsets have changed. She's older, she's more responsible, and she's got much more on the line now. There wasn't time to doodle, to craft, to invent. At least, not as much time. She's a captain now - she starts and finishes wars, she has to overlook her crew, and she has to keep her enemies from killing her every time she steps out of her room.

The female's made a name of herself, and Goldenluxury Roux certainly meant a lot - it was an oxymoron of sorts. But, her name, to most, meant something along the lines of: captain of the pirates, enemy to the Pitt, harbinger to traitors, daughter of Pincher Roux. That does not exactly illustrate any sort of interest in things such as art or science (or, in this case, flowers). However, it does not paint a full picture of Goldenluxury Roux, either.

The injured captain would stumble along the island, her torn wings twitching as she moved, her harpy eagle sitting upon her back. Her gaze falls upon the newer crewmate, Dovedepartre, and she would glance to what the female is looking at - paper, clearly, but then something was on the paper, too. The female decides to investigate further, struggling over to the lynx with a neutral expression on her features. [b]"Wha's all that?"[b] she'd ask casually with a croaky voice, looking to the assortment of flowers.

[dovedeparture]

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Dovedeparture's ear twitched ever so slightly as she heard Goldenluxury's movements. From where she sat, Dove could just feel the vibrations spreading outward from her awkward, painful gait. For a brief moment, the lynx wanted to extend the offer to take away the pain, but she held her tongue. Goldie had made it clear she would be alright, and the wildcat didn't want to press. Worry did plant itself in her mind, but the female was quick to sweep it under the rug.

The guardian angel craned her neck a tad to get a better look at her captain after catching the question. A warm smile etched itself into her delicate features. "Oh, I am quite pleased you asked, Cap'n." She closed the book, tucking the wildflowers in for a long rest. Then, she grabbed one of the poppy flowers and held it up for the tigress. "It's a pressed flower. This helps them last longer. I think it's rather nice!" Was she proud of herself? Dovedeparture contemplated that for a few moments.

Surely, she thought, it was wrong to take pride in this, but it was hard to wash away that feeling. She ignored the burning in her wings.

The crewmate extended the pressed flower to Goldie. "Would you care for one? I think the red would suit you." A little laugh tumble passed her lips after she spoke, but sincerity colored her words.

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[Florence]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12px; color;"]Whereas the two before her had previously dabbled in a myriad of hobbies and had a range interests, Etherealgate realized that she had none. Her life had been sworn away to the occupation of being a companion to the recently passed and a sword against the unjust. Prior to trying to accept a more mortal existence, she had possessed no time for things as simple as reading and writing or as complicated (at least it looked to be that way) as flower pressing: not when there were constantly lost souls that demanded her attention and clairvoyance.

She was skeptical upon approaching admittedly, eying the vividly hued poppies with wide golden eyes. They were lovely, their lives forever preserved thanks to whatever strange technique Dove had used. For a moment, she was jealous of the alabaster lynx with her delicate wings and tender touch capable of saving life and not taking it away. But jealousy was a strange emotion that sat strangely upon her and she found that she already loathed it, wanting reprieve for the negativity she felt towards the other girl for no real reason at all. "How... quaint," She forced out after a moment of silent contemplation, her crooked attempt at a smile coming to life upon her black features, "How did you do it?"

[MERGED]

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[/td][/tr][/table] pressed flowers. he had never seen the point. why have nearly dead flowers when they would just shrivel up and die anyways? i would just take a little longer. of course, he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to get on anyone's bad side on his first day. ”i guess they are quite pretty.” he admitted, tilting his head as he made his way to the little group. ”though.. they'll still die eventually, wont they?”