avalononline | Video; un: pinkmemory

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Video; un: pinkmemory

Hello!

[Aerith is bright and cheerful, which seems to be the norm for her. She offers a wave, wearing a smile, her drake coiled around her ponytail and the pretty hair piece tucked into it.]

Not long after I arrived, I had this thought to open a flower shop. I haven't yet, but I have some flowers that are kind of taking over my apartment. I got these a bit ago, so some of them are younger than others, but they're all pretty hardy.

[Her camera pans over to a counter that's housing no shortage of pots with lily of the valley, larkspur, and primrose plants in a variety of colours.

Afterwards, she leans onto her counter and dips her head as she eyes her device, coming back into view.]

So I guess what I'm saying is that if you like flowers or you want something to spruce your home up, I'm happy to give you some of mine. If you don't know how to take care of them, I can help walk you through that, too. Or if you just want to come take a look at them, that'd be okay, too.

[After a pause, she continues.] Also, if you didn't know, larkspurs— [She points to the ones that stand tall with the colourful petals.] —are a favourite with King Arthur. Just in case you feel like getting on his good side.

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Hey...

Yeah. It's Zunyan. Or Zun.

[ Zunyan whips its whiskers about in response to her wiggling fingers, rather like the wild flicks of a cat's tail. The dragon is small but has an intense stare, narrowed golden eyes that seem to pierce through oneself somehow, face not very expressive beyond its glare and teeth and horns — dragons aren't the most emotive, their faces mostly stern and intimidating, even when they're ferrety and cute. Zunyan is proud and Zuko regards him with majesty, which it's quite accustomed to by now. He named it Dignity, for crying out loud. How could that not go to the creature's head a bit?

Zuko, himself, is far more awkward and uncomfortable. He's seldom a guest in others' homes, not random people he's only met on the Internet, at least. It's still new for him even after all these months. He's trepidatious following her lead, not at all expecting himself to go randomly pick up a bunch of flowers on a whim today. Avalon is always full of small surprises, it seems. ]

Zun, hm?

[Does the dragon look like a Zun? How would she even know what a 'Zun' looks like? She doesn't. But either way, it doesn't seem particularly... perturbed by how she's titled it? Not easy to tell given the impressively intent expression. What is the dragon really thinking?

Her drake eventually unwinds itself from the pink ribbon holding her hair back and the accompanying hairpiece nestled in it. He exchanges gaze between Zuko and Zunyan, evidently sizing both up, determining if they are at all threats at all, and huffs a soft sound of air.]

It's nice to meet you both more closely! Your partner has told me lots about you. [She addresses Zun with an optimistic smile.] My name is Aerith and you can call mine Zaral. [...Although maybe Zun won't be calling anyone anything...] I hope we can be friends, too.

[ 'I hope we can be friends...' Zunyan and Zuko both look to each other at that line. Even after so long, he's still getting used to having friends proper, not so casual about the word as maybe most are. To him it's a heavy statement, not a nicety. He averts his eyes, but gives a soft nod in response, even if it takes him some pause to say anything back. ]

...Thanks, um— Fine.

[ Nailed it. ]

...The flowers?

[What a response. Aerith has evidently chosen not to notice that she can come off as a bit strong. Or rather, and this is likely more accurate, she can only be herself. She knows she's pushy. She knows she can be a bit prying. And she knows that she can overwhelm, but she has no idea how to be anyone other than herself.

And hopefully, maybe, that sincerity of hers will be a boon rather than a curse.

At his question, she beckons for her to follow, gently pushing her apartment door closed once he's made his way in. Her apartment is... Well, were it not for the plants, it'd probably look decently sparse. Instead, there's no shortage of plants here, there, and everywhere. Ones that hang in plants from the ceiling, larger pots on the floor with bigger leaves and stems to smaller ones on end tables and other such things.

If Aerith was trying to make something of a plant sanctuary, she's well on the way there. The ones she specifically showed are spread all over the counter of her kitchen, which is where she takes him.]

You're free to take as many as you'd like, really. Believe me, I have more than I probably know what to do with.

I can see that...

[ He doesn’t mean to be rude, his tone more in disbelief than sarcasm as he takes in the scene following her. He’d never seen so many plants inside someone’s house. ]

You grew all these? Why? Are you a witch or something?

[ Zuko, too, can only be himself, and is a little rough around the edges — but nearly everything he says and feels is steeped in earnest. He is straightforward and blunt learning to soften his social skills still. He’s not much of a jokester, either — so he’s being quite sincere asking if she’s a witch, rather than poking fun. He’s heard of witches in his world, and there are certainly witches in this world. Well— in a way, they all kind of are now, aren’t they? ]

[Aerith laughs, his response completely expected, really. It's a wonder that Tifa hasn't been transparently bothered by it, considering it's Tifa's home as much as it is Aerith's.]

A witch?

[That's a thought, isn't it. Certainly not the first time Aerith has been called one. She finds herself leaning on the counter as she eyes him thoughtfully. Are Cetra witches...? She wouldn't really call herself that. She's just... herself. How else is she supposed to say it?]

No. I'm just a girl who likes plants and flowers. I like what they symbolise. I like that they smell nice. I like that they're pretty. I like that we can use them to say things we might not be able to say with words. They make me happy.

[ Zuko takes in her words with deeper consideration than he'd expected. Flowers are just flowers, in his book. He'd never really paid much attention to their emotional effects or poeticism or appreciated their beauty. But saying that you can express things with flowers that you can't express with words gets his gears turning upstairs. It's a thought he'd never really considered. But now reaffirms his decision to pick these up even more. ]

Hm. I understand...

[ He pauses, glancing around a bit nervously, still considering her perspective. ]

I think my uncle feels the same way. These flowers are for him. Not me.

[ His mission from the very first message. Flowers for Uncle. ]

Oh, I see...
That makes things a little bit different, doesn't it?

[Aerith frowns for just a breath. It's a thoughtful sort. The meanings of flowers can be enigmatic at best and many people aren't aware that they have their own symbolism. The best way to figure this out is to find out what Zuko is trying to convey.

So not long into her thinking, she's back to a smaller smile, still warm, still welcoming.]

What is it that you want to say to your uncle? Are you trying to show gratitude or love or... something else?

[ Zuko nods softly, a thoughtful frown tugging his own lips. All of the above, including many shades of "something else" — such as "I've missed you." ]

Both. And— to welcome him here... I haven't seen him in months. Uncle likes his space to look nice. He thinks flowers brighten up a room. So when I saw your post online, I thought— for his new flat, y'know...

[Flowers brighten up a room. They do, of course. She nods, taking the time to look over her variety with some thought. She remembers Zuko making mention of his uncle before when they met for the first time. A man who Zuko clearly looks up to.

There should be some reverence and appreciation in there as well.]

How about these, then?

[She pushes forward a small pot with stems of white larkspur flowers for him.] Larkspurs have all kinds of meanings behind them. Affection and strength of attachment. Lightness and appreciation. And they're bright, vibrant flowers. I know they aren't very colourful, but they have a striking and elegant composition.

Ah— "Larkspurs." These are the same kind as the purple ones you offered online, then? Is there, um— a difference? I mean, in what the colors mean?

[ She said one could say things without saying them through flowers, after all. That seemed appealing to him, even if his uncle didn't know the meaning on the other end. Still meaningful. ]

That's right, and yes.

[Aerith nods in a very matter-of-fact fashion before she continues.]

Different colours can symbolise different feelings and ideas. White is a colour that often gets associated with purity and innocence, whereas colours like red and oranges can sometimes be thought of as passionate. I'm sure just like plants that these meanings differ from world to world, so what they mean in your world might be different. There's really no one way to describe them.

[She settles her chin into the palm of her hand as she watches him.] The difference between purple and white larkspurs does come down to different meanings. Purple would be more for a romantic kind of love. Or, at least, it could be interpreted as such, which is why I didn't suggest that one.

Oh— uh. Yeah, no. Not romantic love.

[ He makes an awkward grimace, trying to joke it off. ]

We like the color red a lot. And orange and gold. These are popular colors where we’re from. But I think Uncle likes any color...

[ He’s clearly giving this a lot of thought, even though flowers are not his area of expertise. It shows how much he cares even for such a simple, spontaneous gift. ]

[She laughs a little. Yeah, she didn't think purple was going to fly.

As he continues, he listens intently and nods.]

Reds, oranges, and golds. A lot of these colours can symbolise ambition, too. And pride. So I think given how you've spoken of your uncle, that would be fitting. Respect, reverence, pride in having him as your family. It's obvious that he's left an impression on you. You're probably right that if it's coming from you, he won't have a preference on the colour and he might not even understand, but you would, and maybe it's really the thought that matters.

Yeah. That’s right.

[ Every word hits the mark. It’s rare to get such an easy smile out of Zuko, but talking about his relationship with Iroh will do it. He turns to the dragon on his shoulder, who consistently serves as an excellent conduit for smiles Zuko feels too bashful to just give out freely. It’s easier to smile at his familiar than his friends, often. ]

What do you think, Zunyan? Are these the flowers for Uncle?

[ The little dragon draped around his shoulders just cranes its neck to look back at him with its usual blank expression, and says nothing. Because it can’t talk. But a Zuko doesn’t want to exclude its opinion just because of that! ]

[She can't see it, but she gets the most subtle notion that maybe she's left her own kind of impression. Well, not necessarily her, but rather her knowledge, which is really just as good. Rarely is it a person who's remembered, but more or less what they do and what changes they've made on a grander scale.

Aerith might be in a special category back home where that's not necessarily true, but still...

He asks his familiar and her emerald gaze turns onto the dragon. Her smile widens as she waits patiently, but she can't seem to gauge its response.]

What's Zunyan's opinion? I can't tell if they like the idea or if they're unimpressed.

I can't, either...

[Zuko smirks and reaches out a gentle finger to rub the dragon along the cheek and whiskers, which it nuzzles up to readily, clearly quite a normal thing they do. ]

So I'm gonna just say he likes it.

[Aerith chuckles. All he can do is guess, is that it? Not too different from her and the drake.]

Well, I guess we'll find out if he doesn't.

[Because it'll probably mean there are a few less flowers for Zuko to bring home. She turns her attention onto her collection, trying to decide which might be best for him and then she waves him over.

He should pick. They're going to be his, after all.]

Why don't you pick out the ones you want? I'll package them up nice and neat for you to take back home when you go. That way, no one else can claim them.

Okay...

[ He hesitates at first, but takes his time deliberating over exactly which stems he wants. He may not be the most vocal, but it's not for lack of affection. He just finds other avenues to show his thoughtfulness. He selects a nice mix of white, red, orange and yellow, robust without being greedy, but doesn't dare pluck them himself without knowing exactly what he's doing. He knows next to nothing about gardening, after all. Why would he? He's a prince. So instead, he points to exactly which stems he wants so she knows what to cut off. ]

This one, this one, this, this, and this... And this one, too.

[ He's selected a lively bunch. A good eye, even if untrained. ]

[A collection of them. She did ask. It's nice to see someone so decisive. Others have left her in charge of picking what they get, which isn't a terrible thing to do, but it's so much easier to pick when she knows someone better.

As he points out the ones he's interested in, she retrieves a simple set of pruning shears and with a nice little slanted angle, cuts just above the growth of the base of each plant, careful not to damage any attached leaves or extra growths of flowers. A nice healthy variation of the colours he's indicated. Arranging them just so that there's a nice balance. She's no professional florist, but...

It's not bad at all.

After binding them together loosely with what appears to be sheer pink ribbon, not unlike the colour of her own hairpiece holding it back, she puts his makeshift bouquet aside, and then she pushes over a rather small pot with a few blossoming stems of red larkspurs in his direction.]

You should take this too. You can grow it at home.

Oh! Uncle will love that.

[ He can already tell, and it brings a genuine, surprised smile to his face. ]

What color will it grow?

[There's nothing quite as infectious as someone else smiling. That's exactly why she got involved in all of this. She wanted to make other people smile. That's why she sold flowers in the slums. It's why she wants to give out flowers here.]

These ones should be red. They don't normally grow varied, but if you get different colours and you plant them in the same space, there's a possibility you might be able to crossbreed colours. Like, for instance, if you planted a yellow one and a red one together, you might manage to make an orange one grow at some point. But I wouldn't say I know the specifics behind that real well.

Hmm... Uncle’s smart. He’ll figure it out. ...Probably.

[ Zuko recalls the time Iroh mistook a random poisonous plant in the woods for a delectable tea and ended up ill. It was distressing at best, annoying at worst. But Iroh’s wisdoms maybe lie, uh, elsewhere. ]

[She wants to say it's based on chance, and a portion of it is. There's no guarantee. Just ways to increase said chances. Part of the journey of discovery is... the actual discovery part, though. It'd be better to say nothing and have the joy of surprise.]

I don't doubt that he will. Oh, you probably know this already, but if you wanted any flowers for yourself, you're welcome to them. I know you were here primarily for your uncle, but as you can see, I don't have a shortage. I'm just going to keep filling this place up anyway.

[ He pauses, considering with a wary look in his eye. ]

...Can I have the purple ones, too, then?

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