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||> B l o s s o m <||_____ Language of flowers

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French Vanilla

Timid Dabbler

PostPosted: Fri Oct 21, 2005 6:28 pm


||> B l o s s o m <||_____ Language of flowers

--A backstory on my GaiaOnline character, within the world of Gaia (with some alterations, perhaps) as an alternate universe type. It will be done within a span of ten or so posts. Maybe less, maybe more. Each one can be read as a stand alone, for the most part. So if you have the time, sit back, relax, and maybe read a few.

Chapters:
Chapter 1 -- read.
Chapter 2 -- read.

UPDATE. [1/17/06] There has been a change in format and writing style from chapter three on, though whether or not this will last is not definite.

Chapter 3 -- read.
PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 10:06 pm


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||> p r o m i s e <|| _____Apple Blossoms


Every day was the same as the last. The warm summer sun that shone and the clear blue skies all blurred into one endless moment, a memory to be treasured and forever etched into her heart. This was a summer that seemed like an everlasting day to the little girl who did not yet know the meanings of disappointment or the bitterness of regrets. She did not know of the burdens of society and she lived carefree.

The woods were her playground. It was always safe, always welcoming and never had she known anything but the cheerful, live sound of animal chatter or the still moments of quietness she grew to love. It provided her with everything she could want. From the cool, refreshing little ponds and rivers to the convenience of ripe berries or fruit. When she was younger, her Papa and Mama would take her out for picnics and Papa would bake cookies, pies, and cakes for them to feast on.

But as she grew older they trusted her alone in the woods just a yell or a cry from their house and she too, grew used to only ocassional visits from her parents when she went to the woods to play.

On one fragment of this endless summer, she recieved a promise she would never forget. A promise from a red-haired girl with pretty eyes and smiles that made her happy even though her tears were still wet on her cheeks.

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"What's wrong?" The girl gave her a worried expression, somewhat curious, somewhat concerned, but surely geniune.

"My -- my friend," she sobbed, making 'hic' noises in between as tears streamed down her face, tiny rivulets of sadness. "A bu--A bunny...Died..." Her soft voice was strained, the words forced out even as the sobs continued and in her hands a small, tiny rabbit laid still warm, but motionless.

"Everyone dies. It is what we make of our lives, how much happiness and how many smiles we bring to other faces that makes life important."

A gentle smile and a stretching of arms only concluded in an elegant sweep of a flourish as the little black haired girl was presented with a branch of blossoming flowers.

"They mean promise. And one day, when we meet again, I hope my life has been made important by your smiles."


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French Vanilla

Timid Dabbler


French Vanilla

Timid Dabbler

PostPosted: Tue Jan 17, 2006 2:47 pm


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||> m e m o r y <||_____Forget-Me-Not

"Seki!" Her mother's voice rang in the air, tight with anger and swirling emotions.

The girl, now ten or so, pretended not to hear and focused her concentration on the flowering plant by her fingertips. She knew she wasn't supposed to bring the big, falling-apart-at-the-seams book outside, 'But it's the only one that has pictures of all the flowers in the whole wide world!', she thought, slightly apologetic but not ready to return to the house and bow her head in apology.

Her skirt was getting dirty, but she didn't notice the smudges of soil clinging to the sky blue cloth. A buckle hat -- new, really, she had just bought it the other day with her allowance -- laid on the grassy forest ground, temporarily ignored in favor of something else.

The bright blue blossoms were small and clustered around each other. Slightly dazed, she reached out with a small hand, hovering over the flowers. Hesitantly, she stroked the petals, delighting in the softness. These were nice flowers, she decided and promptly returned her gaze back to the aged book in her lap. With deft fingers, she flipped the pages, the rough parchment of each page familiar against her skin. Finally, she settled on a page. A quick watercolor painting had been done and despite the overall outline being unrefined, she could still identify it.

Balancing the book carefully, she compared the painting to the tiny flowers next to it. She tilted her head to one side, then the other, as if doing so would help better her judgment. Yes, she concluded, they were surely the same flower.

Satisfied, she drew the large book back into her lap and turned the page for a description.

"Description: a small, rather flat 5-petalled blue flower growing profusely on straggly stems, flowering in spring. Color variation is not unusual within species, and white or pink forms are quite likely to be seen."


She glanced around and spotted white and pink flowers -- small, flat and about one centimeter in diameter -- exactly alike to the blue ones before her. So the book was right! They were really pretty too...

"Legend has it that in medieval times, a knight and his lady were walking along the side of a river. He picked a posy of flowers, but because of the weight of his armor he fell into the river. As he was drowning he threw the posy to his loved one and shouted "Forget-me-not". This is a flower connected with romance and tragic fate. It was often worn by ladies as a sign of faithfulness and enduring love."


Green eyes lit up and shot a quick look at the small flowers. Slightly flushed, she reached out and gently broke off a little stem of flowering blue. Grey eyes flashed in her mind as she stared at the flowers in her hand. Carefully shutting the book, she heard her mother's call again.

"Seki! You get back here with that book! I'll have you grounded for weeks -- !"

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Later -- after she had apologized and been grounded of course -- she would press the pretty forget-me-nots and put it in the same album she had her pressed apple blossoms in. There were still thirteen pages left to fill. Her pink lips would spread into a sweet smile and grey eyes would meet her in her dreams, where she would dream of cheerful red hair and kind smiles.

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