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Shawls, cleaning, and gardening
Jan. 13th, 2014 10:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
earthandpineWho: Rosethorn and anyone!
Open: Open
When: Day 147
Where: gazebo, all around the Bastion, the farm; wherever your character finds her!
What: a gift from home leads to a very homesick plant mage
Format: prose preferred but I'll match whatever!
Warnings: Just the usual, if you annoy her she'll threaten to hang you in a well by your ankles. (Please do this. She's been too nice lately.)
Rosethorn is up at dawn as usual, or as close to dawn as Tris manages to give them in the Bastion. She stops by the gazebo out of curiosity. She doubts anything will be there, since she didn't choose any of the gods, none of them quite closely enough aligned with her own. At first glance, Rosethorn doesn't notice it. Then she gasps, a hand going to her mouth. "Lark." She drops to her knees and picks the shawl up hesitantly, letting it unfold as she does. The socks lay unnoticed as she wraps it around herself, feeling warmth and comfort sink into her as she does. It isn't just sentiment. Lark knitted spells into the shawl, healing, strength, and warmth radiating from it and into its wearer. A shawl knitted by her lover shouldn't come as such a surprise, given Tris's present, but it does.
She's never missed home quite so much, but having something of Lark's means the world to her. Whenever she finally does notice the socks, Rosethorn smiles. Lark would approve of this part of the gift too. It seems fitting.
Later in the day, she helps clean up from the festival with her usual brisk efficiency. She can be found anywhere in the Bastion she notices a job that needs doing. Anyone familiar with Rosethorn's usual dark green temple robes may notice the opal shawl. It's unusual to see her attire change much at all except in concession to weather. Even if her temple and her world are gone, the very earth in which her plants grew, Rosethorn is still an Earth dedicate, and she dresses as one.
As soon as she feels like she's done enough cleaning, Rosethorn steals away. She spends the rest of the day hiding, so to speak, on the farm. She checks on the Navit plants and does some weeding, shawl carefully folded and set out of range of dirt. Hiding is of course not a very accurate description. Where else would anyone look for a plant mage?
She won't leave the plants until clouds shift to block the sun, marking the end of the day.
Open: Open
When: Day 147
Where: gazebo, all around the Bastion, the farm; wherever your character finds her!
What: a gift from home leads to a very homesick plant mage
Format: prose preferred but I'll match whatever!
Warnings: Just the usual, if you annoy her she'll threaten to hang you in a well by your ankles. (Please do this. She's been too nice lately.)
Rosethorn is up at dawn as usual, or as close to dawn as Tris manages to give them in the Bastion. She stops by the gazebo out of curiosity. She doubts anything will be there, since she didn't choose any of the gods, none of them quite closely enough aligned with her own. At first glance, Rosethorn doesn't notice it. Then she gasps, a hand going to her mouth. "Lark." She drops to her knees and picks the shawl up hesitantly, letting it unfold as she does. The socks lay unnoticed as she wraps it around herself, feeling warmth and comfort sink into her as she does. It isn't just sentiment. Lark knitted spells into the shawl, healing, strength, and warmth radiating from it and into its wearer. A shawl knitted by her lover shouldn't come as such a surprise, given Tris's present, but it does.
She's never missed home quite so much, but having something of Lark's means the world to her. Whenever she finally does notice the socks, Rosethorn smiles. Lark would approve of this part of the gift too. It seems fitting.
Later in the day, she helps clean up from the festival with her usual brisk efficiency. She can be found anywhere in the Bastion she notices a job that needs doing. Anyone familiar with Rosethorn's usual dark green temple robes may notice the opal shawl. It's unusual to see her attire change much at all except in concession to weather. Even if her temple and her world are gone, the very earth in which her plants grew, Rosethorn is still an Earth dedicate, and she dresses as one.
As soon as she feels like she's done enough cleaning, Rosethorn steals away. She spends the rest of the day hiding, so to speak, on the farm. She checks on the Navit plants and does some weeding, shawl carefully folded and set out of range of dirt. Hiding is of course not a very accurate description. Where else would anyone look for a plant mage?
She won't leave the plants until clouds shift to block the sun, marking the end of the day.