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RP inspired Drabble
Fandom: Tales of the Abyss
Rating: G, for trolling and flowers
Characters: Guy Cecil, mention of Jade and Peony
Summary: Reality Shifted shenanigans
He'd asked the palace gardeners for the favor, and because he was generally liked and amiable, and because he was friends with the Emperor, and probably because of his not so secret past as a servant, the staff had been happy to help him out. It wasn't a hard errand, to be sure, the problem was quality.
Guy knew flowers, he knew them inside out, their meanings, colors, seasons. He'd made a clock once, based on their flowering, charted it out with Pere as a way of learning, because Guy's mind worked in gears and straight lines and angles, and that was the easiest way to remember flowers--by making them a part of something more comprehensible, more mechanical. But what he knew about flowers was never reflected in how he handled them.
No matter his best intentions, he never could get a plant to survive a week with him. He tried to regiment it. Food, sunlight, water at specified times in precise amounts. It never worked. A week, like clockwork, and the leaves drooped and curled and the flowers lost their petals and soon enough he was left with a dead plant. Eventually he stopped trying. He stuck to his machines, whose workings and mysteries he could understand. When they stopped functioning he knew why, or if he didn't he could find out, fix them and bring them back. Watching Pere nurse plants back to health fascinated him, but he could never learn how himself, and Pere stopped trying to explain what he could never grasp.
Despite his knack for killing them, Guy liked flowers. They brought good memories, mostly, or at least nostalgic ones.
It was enough to make him feel almost guilty, using them in this fashion. Almost. But he had a spiteful streak, and even at the time he'd noticed how the simple gesture had unnerved Jade.
He made sure to wait until the Colonel was gone, reporting to Peony. He collected the potted plants the gardeners had given him, and let himself into the Necromancer's office, neat, tidy, orderly--save Peony's corner--and drab.
Guy might not have a knack for raising flowers, but he knew how to arrange them. The peonies went on the desk, right where they could be seen and viewed most often. The little pot of marigolds graced the window. The largest plant went by the door, a dash of color, a climbing rose on its own trellis, Joshua's coat. Another trip brought in a low long pot of blue sapphire Ceanothus to liven up the filing cabinets.
He left a single gailardia in a vase beside the peonies, wondering if he could request more plants for later, to make sure something was always in bloom, always flowering inside the office.
He'd think on it. As he left, he heard Peony and Jade's voices down the hall. As he'd thought, Peony had insisted on coming back to the office with Jade.
He tried very hard not to smile. But really it was a lost cause.
Rating: G, for trolling and flowers
Characters: Guy Cecil, mention of Jade and Peony
Summary: Reality Shifted shenanigans
He'd asked the palace gardeners for the favor, and because he was generally liked and amiable, and because he was friends with the Emperor, and probably because of his not so secret past as a servant, the staff had been happy to help him out. It wasn't a hard errand, to be sure, the problem was quality.
Guy knew flowers, he knew them inside out, their meanings, colors, seasons. He'd made a clock once, based on their flowering, charted it out with Pere as a way of learning, because Guy's mind worked in gears and straight lines and angles, and that was the easiest way to remember flowers--by making them a part of something more comprehensible, more mechanical. But what he knew about flowers was never reflected in how he handled them.
No matter his best intentions, he never could get a plant to survive a week with him. He tried to regiment it. Food, sunlight, water at specified times in precise amounts. It never worked. A week, like clockwork, and the leaves drooped and curled and the flowers lost their petals and soon enough he was left with a dead plant. Eventually he stopped trying. He stuck to his machines, whose workings and mysteries he could understand. When they stopped functioning he knew why, or if he didn't he could find out, fix them and bring them back. Watching Pere nurse plants back to health fascinated him, but he could never learn how himself, and Pere stopped trying to explain what he could never grasp.
Despite his knack for killing them, Guy liked flowers. They brought good memories, mostly, or at least nostalgic ones.
It was enough to make him feel almost guilty, using them in this fashion. Almost. But he had a spiteful streak, and even at the time he'd noticed how the simple gesture had unnerved Jade.
He made sure to wait until the Colonel was gone, reporting to Peony. He collected the potted plants the gardeners had given him, and let himself into the Necromancer's office, neat, tidy, orderly--save Peony's corner--and drab.
Guy might not have a knack for raising flowers, but he knew how to arrange them. The peonies went on the desk, right where they could be seen and viewed most often. The little pot of marigolds graced the window. The largest plant went by the door, a dash of color, a climbing rose on its own trellis, Joshua's coat. Another trip brought in a low long pot of blue sapphire Ceanothus to liven up the filing cabinets.
He left a single gailardia in a vase beside the peonies, wondering if he could request more plants for later, to make sure something was always in bloom, always flowering inside the office.
He'd think on it. As he left, he heard Peony and Jade's voices down the hall. As he'd thought, Peony had insisted on coming back to the office with Jade.
He tried very hard not to smile. But really it was a lost cause.