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Taengea finally seems ready to begin life anew. With the Creed an ever present but self-isolated threat in their canyon outside of the capital, measures have been taken to redirect trade routes and adjust expectations between merchants. The travels of the nobles have been readjusted and the plans for all new shipments have been rearranged to take the longer route to Vasiliadon, avoiding the gorge in which the cultists now claim sanctuary. As if in sheer revolt of their dark and craggy outcropping, the people of Taengea have continued with their bi-monthly tradition of hosting a flower festival and market in the city. The event itself is just two days after the coronation of the new king and spirits are still lively from the excitement that fresh change brings. Merchants and breeders from all over Taengea cultivate in the central square with their goods - not only to sell freshly cut flowers but also the seeds and produce of their goods for herbal remedies or personal gardens. The entire event is heady with the scent of fresh blooms and it is one of the best ways in which a new seller can make a name for himself among the economy and confirm contracts with the serving staff of larger homes. Come one, come all to witness Taengea is full bloom!
- All characters who are realistically within liquid time parameters in Taengea at this time.
- Please note that all participants in Taking the Bait, may want to hold off on replying here until the other shoe drops in that thread. All citizens, crafters, lower-class citizens, or those nobles who have not attended Taking the Bait will not have yet heard of the happenings there and will therefore be able to rp here immediately.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Taengea finally seems ready to begin life anew. With the Creed an ever present but self-isolated threat in their canyon outside of the capital, measures have been taken to redirect trade routes and adjust expectations between merchants. The travels of the nobles have been readjusted and the plans for all new shipments have been rearranged to take the longer route to Vasiliadon, avoiding the gorge in which the cultists now claim sanctuary. As if in sheer revolt of their dark and craggy outcropping, the people of Taengea have continued with their bi-monthly tradition of hosting a flower festival and market in the city. The event itself is just two days after the coronation of the new king and spirits are still lively from the excitement that fresh change brings. Merchants and breeders from all over Taengea cultivate in the central square with their goods - not only to sell freshly cut flowers but also the seeds and produce of their goods for herbal remedies or personal gardens. The entire event is heady with the scent of fresh blooms and it is one of the best ways in which a new seller can make a name for himself among the economy and confirm contracts with the serving staff of larger homes. Come one, come all to witness Taengea is full bloom!
- All characters who are realistically within liquid time parameters in Taengea at this time.
- Please note that all participants in Taking the Bait, may want to hold off on replying here until the other shoe drops in that thread. All citizens, crafters, lower-class citizens, or those nobles who have not attended Taking the Bait will not have yet heard of the happenings there and will therefore be able to rp here immediately.
Hope Blossoms Event - Taengea
Taengea finally seems ready to begin life anew. With the Creed an ever present but self-isolated threat in their canyon outside of the capital, measures have been taken to redirect trade routes and adjust expectations between merchants. The travels of the nobles have been readjusted and the plans for all new shipments have been rearranged to take the longer route to Vasiliadon, avoiding the gorge in which the cultists now claim sanctuary. As if in sheer revolt of their dark and craggy outcropping, the people of Taengea have continued with their bi-monthly tradition of hosting a flower festival and market in the city. The event itself is just two days after the coronation of the new king and spirits are still lively from the excitement that fresh change brings. Merchants and breeders from all over Taengea cultivate in the central square with their goods - not only to sell freshly cut flowers but also the seeds and produce of their goods for herbal remedies or personal gardens. The entire event is heady with the scent of fresh blooms and it is one of the best ways in which a new seller can make a name for himself among the economy and confirm contracts with the serving staff of larger homes. Come one, come all to witness Taengea is full bloom!
- All characters who are realistically within liquid time parameters in Taengea at this time.
- Please note that all participants in Taking the Bait, may want to hold off on replying here until the other shoe drops in that thread. All citizens, crafters, lower-class citizens, or those nobles who have not attended Taking the Bait will not have yet heard of the happenings there and will therefore be able to rp here immediately.
The market was THE place to see and be seen. Symon was perhaps unusual in that he leaned against a pillar, more in the shadows then open air, to view the surroundings. The aroma of flowers was persistent enough to cause his nose to wrinkle. Why women liked these things was beyond him. Blooms were frail, and many would litter the streets before the day was through.
"Hum," he muttered to himself, as he took count of the growing number of visitors. The merchants were expecting a crowd, no doubt. The coronation likely loosened some purse strings; goodwill tended to manifest in shiny metal. Although most were dressed in their normal attire there were a few that had taken greater care with their appearance then they normally would. Symon could see a bit more jewelry and color than was typical. He noticed those sorts of things.
Symon let one hand rest on the head of the dog that sat at his side. The greyhound was a mixture of white and brown fur, and at rest the gambler could scratch the back of the animal's ears without bending. The faithful animal was often at his side, and appeared to be enjoying the view of the market, patiently watching like his master.
"Go have a look around," Symon said, his voice soft and tuned for the dog. Without hesitation the dog padded off into the crowd.
Quietly counting to ten, Symon waited a moment longer and then adjusted his weight away from the marble post he'd been leaning against. His steps were unhurried, bare feet used to the feel of the ground below, as he ventured into the market. He wore white, but so did many others and he nodded at a few people he knew, while not pausing to engage in actual conversation.
He passed by three of the market stalls before selecting one at random. Here there were fresh cut blooms. Symon did his best not to sneeze.
Lifting one stem from the vase it was displayed in, he made a motion to catch the merchant's eye. "Do you have more than what is here? I was looking for something red."
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The market was THE place to see and be seen. Symon was perhaps unusual in that he leaned against a pillar, more in the shadows then open air, to view the surroundings. The aroma of flowers was persistent enough to cause his nose to wrinkle. Why women liked these things was beyond him. Blooms were frail, and many would litter the streets before the day was through.
"Hum," he muttered to himself, as he took count of the growing number of visitors. The merchants were expecting a crowd, no doubt. The coronation likely loosened some purse strings; goodwill tended to manifest in shiny metal. Although most were dressed in their normal attire there were a few that had taken greater care with their appearance then they normally would. Symon could see a bit more jewelry and color than was typical. He noticed those sorts of things.
Symon let one hand rest on the head of the dog that sat at his side. The greyhound was a mixture of white and brown fur, and at rest the gambler could scratch the back of the animal's ears without bending. The faithful animal was often at his side, and appeared to be enjoying the view of the market, patiently watching like his master.
"Go have a look around," Symon said, his voice soft and tuned for the dog. Without hesitation the dog padded off into the crowd.
Quietly counting to ten, Symon waited a moment longer and then adjusted his weight away from the marble post he'd been leaning against. His steps were unhurried, bare feet used to the feel of the ground below, as he ventured into the market. He wore white, but so did many others and he nodded at a few people he knew, while not pausing to engage in actual conversation.
He passed by three of the market stalls before selecting one at random. Here there were fresh cut blooms. Symon did his best not to sneeze.
Lifting one stem from the vase it was displayed in, he made a motion to catch the merchant's eye. "Do you have more than what is here? I was looking for something red."
The market was THE place to see and be seen. Symon was perhaps unusual in that he leaned against a pillar, more in the shadows then open air, to view the surroundings. The aroma of flowers was persistent enough to cause his nose to wrinkle. Why women liked these things was beyond him. Blooms were frail, and many would litter the streets before the day was through.
"Hum," he muttered to himself, as he took count of the growing number of visitors. The merchants were expecting a crowd, no doubt. The coronation likely loosened some purse strings; goodwill tended to manifest in shiny metal. Although most were dressed in their normal attire there were a few that had taken greater care with their appearance then they normally would. Symon could see a bit more jewelry and color than was typical. He noticed those sorts of things.
Symon let one hand rest on the head of the dog that sat at his side. The greyhound was a mixture of white and brown fur, and at rest the gambler could scratch the back of the animal's ears without bending. The faithful animal was often at his side, and appeared to be enjoying the view of the market, patiently watching like his master.
"Go have a look around," Symon said, his voice soft and tuned for the dog. Without hesitation the dog padded off into the crowd.
Quietly counting to ten, Symon waited a moment longer and then adjusted his weight away from the marble post he'd been leaning against. His steps were unhurried, bare feet used to the feel of the ground below, as he ventured into the market. He wore white, but so did many others and he nodded at a few people he knew, while not pausing to engage in actual conversation.
He passed by three of the market stalls before selecting one at random. Here there were fresh cut blooms. Symon did his best not to sneeze.
Lifting one stem from the vase it was displayed in, he made a motion to catch the merchant's eye. "Do you have more than what is here? I was looking for something red."
Alkaios had never exactly been one for flowers. He was a soldier; he had never exactly had the time to sit down and appreciate blossoms the way some of his sisters might have. There was far too much else to be worrying about in the world to be so distracted stopping to smell the roses; too many agreements to be brokered and too many plans to see through. That said, every so often he found himself breaking out of that military shell and visiting the centre of Vasiliádon, and he had always enjoyed the market stalls set up around the agorá.
Today, it appeared this visit to the marketplace had coincided with the bimonthly flower festival, which, on any other occasion, he might have attempted to avoid. However, people seemed in a naturally more jovial mood as a result of the new King's coronation only a few days prior, and Alkaios too could not deny there was a brighter smile on his face than the usual as a result of recent events. His dealings in Colchis had gone excellently, and things would be moving ahead as planned. He had supposed he did owe his sister a gift in return for all she had done to aid him, and, therefore, had opted to find her something from the flower-filled market that might appeal to her more feminine nature.
He approached one of the stalls which appeared less crowded, running a gaze over all they had on offer. The merchant in question was clearly prolific when it came to sourcing the blooms: there were options in every colour Alkaios could imagine, from the pale yellow of his chiton to the rich blue of the sky. They had all been freshly-cut, and it appeared another man had clearly similar intentions of purchasing some, as he questioned the seller on the possibility of anything other than what was in the stall. He tagged onto the end of the man's request, "And if you perhaps had some pink roses...?"
As he waited for a response from the flower trader, he turned to the man he had interrupted, nodding his head slightly in apology. "Not that I mean to interrupt, it's only that all the other stalls appear so crowded."
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Alkaios had never exactly been one for flowers. He was a soldier; he had never exactly had the time to sit down and appreciate blossoms the way some of his sisters might have. There was far too much else to be worrying about in the world to be so distracted stopping to smell the roses; too many agreements to be brokered and too many plans to see through. That said, every so often he found himself breaking out of that military shell and visiting the centre of Vasiliádon, and he had always enjoyed the market stalls set up around the agorá.
Today, it appeared this visit to the marketplace had coincided with the bimonthly flower festival, which, on any other occasion, he might have attempted to avoid. However, people seemed in a naturally more jovial mood as a result of the new King's coronation only a few days prior, and Alkaios too could not deny there was a brighter smile on his face than the usual as a result of recent events. His dealings in Colchis had gone excellently, and things would be moving ahead as planned. He had supposed he did owe his sister a gift in return for all she had done to aid him, and, therefore, had opted to find her something from the flower-filled market that might appeal to her more feminine nature.
He approached one of the stalls which appeared less crowded, running a gaze over all they had on offer. The merchant in question was clearly prolific when it came to sourcing the blooms: there were options in every colour Alkaios could imagine, from the pale yellow of his chiton to the rich blue of the sky. They had all been freshly-cut, and it appeared another man had clearly similar intentions of purchasing some, as he questioned the seller on the possibility of anything other than what was in the stall. He tagged onto the end of the man's request, "And if you perhaps had some pink roses...?"
As he waited for a response from the flower trader, he turned to the man he had interrupted, nodding his head slightly in apology. "Not that I mean to interrupt, it's only that all the other stalls appear so crowded."
Alkaios had never exactly been one for flowers. He was a soldier; he had never exactly had the time to sit down and appreciate blossoms the way some of his sisters might have. There was far too much else to be worrying about in the world to be so distracted stopping to smell the roses; too many agreements to be brokered and too many plans to see through. That said, every so often he found himself breaking out of that military shell and visiting the centre of Vasiliádon, and he had always enjoyed the market stalls set up around the agorá.
Today, it appeared this visit to the marketplace had coincided with the bimonthly flower festival, which, on any other occasion, he might have attempted to avoid. However, people seemed in a naturally more jovial mood as a result of the new King's coronation only a few days prior, and Alkaios too could not deny there was a brighter smile on his face than the usual as a result of recent events. His dealings in Colchis had gone excellently, and things would be moving ahead as planned. He had supposed he did owe his sister a gift in return for all she had done to aid him, and, therefore, had opted to find her something from the flower-filled market that might appeal to her more feminine nature.
He approached one of the stalls which appeared less crowded, running a gaze over all they had on offer. The merchant in question was clearly prolific when it came to sourcing the blooms: there were options in every colour Alkaios could imagine, from the pale yellow of his chiton to the rich blue of the sky. They had all been freshly-cut, and it appeared another man had clearly similar intentions of purchasing some, as he questioned the seller on the possibility of anything other than what was in the stall. He tagged onto the end of the man's request, "And if you perhaps had some pink roses...?"
As he waited for a response from the flower trader, he turned to the man he had interrupted, nodding his head slightly in apology. "Not that I mean to interrupt, it's only that all the other stalls appear so crowded."
Aikaterine didn't often make it to the festivals. She was home as a child and home as a wife. She tended to the extra chores while her husband would take what they had to The Agora. The roads to the city were steep and it took extra time, considering how careful she was. Her son also along to help care for the horses they were taking in and hopefully selling there. She didn't actually need her son's help, but she didn't trust leaving him behind with Cretheus and sister-in-law. It was nice to have him along and talk to him about all the manly things he would be doing in a matter of a few years. He was so close, but when she looked over at him, she couldn't help but see her little boy.
It was already packed when she arrived and made her way to where she remembered before some stables to keep all of them in. Aikaterine would discuss a price and be done with it. Bartering and haggling with men was not a job she was equipped to do. And maybe she wouldn't get as much money as she had before because Aktis wasn't along. Something was better than nothing. "Thank you. Please, excuse me while I look around. We will be back for the drachmae before we leave." A nod of her head as she kept her son close. Aikaterine was a bit overprotective. And she knew he would have rather gotten lost in the streets and found her later. However, this was his future. This was his trade and what he was going to inherit whether he liked it or not. "Sir, would you mind greatly if Anaxos stayed and learned from you?" She asked politely, quietly.
With the man's agreement, Kat gave a be good look. She didn't really need to say it. Her children were amazingly impeccable. There was no saying how she ended up so very lucky, but she was. She said the normal things that a mother would say as she was leaving her growing boy to explore a flower festival and market all on her own. It was scary. But, nothing scared her more than Cretheus. He wasn't here. Her monster was absent and she was able to venture around and spend what little money she could on something, anything. She just had to wait for the right thing to catch her eye.
Slow and deliberate steps were taken as she meandered through the market. She almost didn't notice all the items that the vendors had to offer as her eyes were lost on the many, many faces. More faces than she had ever seen before. This was the first event she had been to in years and she barely remembered all that had even happened then. So much of her past repressed as she just wandered. And wondered. Her mind was thinking about all the times that Aktis came to these things alone each year. Alone because he wanted the opportunity to sleep with someone else. She was sure of it and she wasn't stupid. Was there a girl in the crowd looking for him? Someone who didn't hear it, even after all of these months?
Her hands folded together as she shook her head just minutely. Think of something more positive, her voice inside her mind told her. A small smile forced on her lips to try and look pleasant as she approached and silently looked at the flowers.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Aikaterine didn't often make it to the festivals. She was home as a child and home as a wife. She tended to the extra chores while her husband would take what they had to The Agora. The roads to the city were steep and it took extra time, considering how careful she was. Her son also along to help care for the horses they were taking in and hopefully selling there. She didn't actually need her son's help, but she didn't trust leaving him behind with Cretheus and sister-in-law. It was nice to have him along and talk to him about all the manly things he would be doing in a matter of a few years. He was so close, but when she looked over at him, she couldn't help but see her little boy.
It was already packed when she arrived and made her way to where she remembered before some stables to keep all of them in. Aikaterine would discuss a price and be done with it. Bartering and haggling with men was not a job she was equipped to do. And maybe she wouldn't get as much money as she had before because Aktis wasn't along. Something was better than nothing. "Thank you. Please, excuse me while I look around. We will be back for the drachmae before we leave." A nod of her head as she kept her son close. Aikaterine was a bit overprotective. And she knew he would have rather gotten lost in the streets and found her later. However, this was his future. This was his trade and what he was going to inherit whether he liked it or not. "Sir, would you mind greatly if Anaxos stayed and learned from you?" She asked politely, quietly.
With the man's agreement, Kat gave a be good look. She didn't really need to say it. Her children were amazingly impeccable. There was no saying how she ended up so very lucky, but she was. She said the normal things that a mother would say as she was leaving her growing boy to explore a flower festival and market all on her own. It was scary. But, nothing scared her more than Cretheus. He wasn't here. Her monster was absent and she was able to venture around and spend what little money she could on something, anything. She just had to wait for the right thing to catch her eye.
Slow and deliberate steps were taken as she meandered through the market. She almost didn't notice all the items that the vendors had to offer as her eyes were lost on the many, many faces. More faces than she had ever seen before. This was the first event she had been to in years and she barely remembered all that had even happened then. So much of her past repressed as she just wandered. And wondered. Her mind was thinking about all the times that Aktis came to these things alone each year. Alone because he wanted the opportunity to sleep with someone else. She was sure of it and she wasn't stupid. Was there a girl in the crowd looking for him? Someone who didn't hear it, even after all of these months?
Her hands folded together as she shook her head just minutely. Think of something more positive, her voice inside her mind told her. A small smile forced on her lips to try and look pleasant as she approached and silently looked at the flowers.
Aikaterine didn't often make it to the festivals. She was home as a child and home as a wife. She tended to the extra chores while her husband would take what they had to The Agora. The roads to the city were steep and it took extra time, considering how careful she was. Her son also along to help care for the horses they were taking in and hopefully selling there. She didn't actually need her son's help, but she didn't trust leaving him behind with Cretheus and sister-in-law. It was nice to have him along and talk to him about all the manly things he would be doing in a matter of a few years. He was so close, but when she looked over at him, she couldn't help but see her little boy.
It was already packed when she arrived and made her way to where she remembered before some stables to keep all of them in. Aikaterine would discuss a price and be done with it. Bartering and haggling with men was not a job she was equipped to do. And maybe she wouldn't get as much money as she had before because Aktis wasn't along. Something was better than nothing. "Thank you. Please, excuse me while I look around. We will be back for the drachmae before we leave." A nod of her head as she kept her son close. Aikaterine was a bit overprotective. And she knew he would have rather gotten lost in the streets and found her later. However, this was his future. This was his trade and what he was going to inherit whether he liked it or not. "Sir, would you mind greatly if Anaxos stayed and learned from you?" She asked politely, quietly.
With the man's agreement, Kat gave a be good look. She didn't really need to say it. Her children were amazingly impeccable. There was no saying how she ended up so very lucky, but she was. She said the normal things that a mother would say as she was leaving her growing boy to explore a flower festival and market all on her own. It was scary. But, nothing scared her more than Cretheus. He wasn't here. Her monster was absent and she was able to venture around and spend what little money she could on something, anything. She just had to wait for the right thing to catch her eye.
Slow and deliberate steps were taken as she meandered through the market. She almost didn't notice all the items that the vendors had to offer as her eyes were lost on the many, many faces. More faces than she had ever seen before. This was the first event she had been to in years and she barely remembered all that had even happened then. So much of her past repressed as she just wandered. And wondered. Her mind was thinking about all the times that Aktis came to these things alone each year. Alone because he wanted the opportunity to sleep with someone else. She was sure of it and she wasn't stupid. Was there a girl in the crowd looking for him? Someone who didn't hear it, even after all of these months?
Her hands folded together as she shook her head just minutely. Think of something more positive, her voice inside her mind told her. A small smile forced on her lips to try and look pleasant as she approached and silently looked at the flowers.
Chrysanthe wanted very much to enjoy the flower festival. To have been free to spend her time going around and looking at the various flowers, maybe having a coin to buy a blossom that she could use to decorate her room or her hair. If Chrysanthe had the liberty to do what she wanted, maybe this day would have been an enjoyable one for her. But that’s not what the flower festival was to her. Whenever there was a market, that meant she had to be in charge of making sure that the trinkets that the children were making were getting sold. That was the only way that their orphanage could stay open. The children made little bracelets, and other odds and ends, and they sold them mostly through the pity of passersby who were willing to buy these bits and pieces from begging children. She had been in charge of scoping out places for the children to sit and try to pass off the worse samples on those generous people who could not overlook a starving child.
The better crafts that Chrysanthe people would be willing to buy without taking pity on an orphan, she had taken with herself to set up a more legitimate booth. She may not have the appearance of a legitimate craftsperson, but her age gave her at least a respectability that the children lacked. Chrysanthe’s chiton was of a rough spun linen, the uneven off-white of an undyed fabric. In contrast, her brown wavy hair was well brushed and the front half was pulled back and secured with a piece of string, leaving the rest of her hair cascading down her back. She might have been able to pass for the servant or apprentice of a craftsperson who had been sent to the market to sell their wares.
Chrysanthe watched as the others milled about, looking at the flowers, and seeming to ignore her small knitted and embroidered goods. Her things were not what the people came here to buy after all. She knew that she should probably try harder to push people to notice her, otherwise she’d never make a sale in this market. She looked around for someone who looked like they might be looking to buy, but her eyes instead fell on a woman browsing nearby. Her looks were unremarkable, but that was not what drew Chrysanthe’s attention. It was the look in the woman’s eyes, a look that she recognized. Despite the smile plastered on the woman’s face, she could tell that something was wrong.
Chrysanthe could tell that the woman was above her in station, but she couldn’t bring herself to just ignore her. At the very least, she felt that it was her obligation to try to help. Chrysanthe came up beside the woman, at first just acting as if she was browsing next to her. When she got close enough to be heard, Chrysanthe spoke quietly. ”Is everything ok, my Lady?” Chrysanthe wasn’t sure the woman was actually a Lady, but she knew it was a better bet to call her by a higher rank than to assume one too low.
This character is currently a work in progress.
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This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
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Chrysanthe wanted very much to enjoy the flower festival. To have been free to spend her time going around and looking at the various flowers, maybe having a coin to buy a blossom that she could use to decorate her room or her hair. If Chrysanthe had the liberty to do what she wanted, maybe this day would have been an enjoyable one for her. But that’s not what the flower festival was to her. Whenever there was a market, that meant she had to be in charge of making sure that the trinkets that the children were making were getting sold. That was the only way that their orphanage could stay open. The children made little bracelets, and other odds and ends, and they sold them mostly through the pity of passersby who were willing to buy these bits and pieces from begging children. She had been in charge of scoping out places for the children to sit and try to pass off the worse samples on those generous people who could not overlook a starving child.
The better crafts that Chrysanthe people would be willing to buy without taking pity on an orphan, she had taken with herself to set up a more legitimate booth. She may not have the appearance of a legitimate craftsperson, but her age gave her at least a respectability that the children lacked. Chrysanthe’s chiton was of a rough spun linen, the uneven off-white of an undyed fabric. In contrast, her brown wavy hair was well brushed and the front half was pulled back and secured with a piece of string, leaving the rest of her hair cascading down her back. She might have been able to pass for the servant or apprentice of a craftsperson who had been sent to the market to sell their wares.
Chrysanthe watched as the others milled about, looking at the flowers, and seeming to ignore her small knitted and embroidered goods. Her things were not what the people came here to buy after all. She knew that she should probably try harder to push people to notice her, otherwise she’d never make a sale in this market. She looked around for someone who looked like they might be looking to buy, but her eyes instead fell on a woman browsing nearby. Her looks were unremarkable, but that was not what drew Chrysanthe’s attention. It was the look in the woman’s eyes, a look that she recognized. Despite the smile plastered on the woman’s face, she could tell that something was wrong.
Chrysanthe could tell that the woman was above her in station, but she couldn’t bring herself to just ignore her. At the very least, she felt that it was her obligation to try to help. Chrysanthe came up beside the woman, at first just acting as if she was browsing next to her. When she got close enough to be heard, Chrysanthe spoke quietly. ”Is everything ok, my Lady?” Chrysanthe wasn’t sure the woman was actually a Lady, but she knew it was a better bet to call her by a higher rank than to assume one too low.
Chrysanthe wanted very much to enjoy the flower festival. To have been free to spend her time going around and looking at the various flowers, maybe having a coin to buy a blossom that she could use to decorate her room or her hair. If Chrysanthe had the liberty to do what she wanted, maybe this day would have been an enjoyable one for her. But that’s not what the flower festival was to her. Whenever there was a market, that meant she had to be in charge of making sure that the trinkets that the children were making were getting sold. That was the only way that their orphanage could stay open. The children made little bracelets, and other odds and ends, and they sold them mostly through the pity of passersby who were willing to buy these bits and pieces from begging children. She had been in charge of scoping out places for the children to sit and try to pass off the worse samples on those generous people who could not overlook a starving child.
The better crafts that Chrysanthe people would be willing to buy without taking pity on an orphan, she had taken with herself to set up a more legitimate booth. She may not have the appearance of a legitimate craftsperson, but her age gave her at least a respectability that the children lacked. Chrysanthe’s chiton was of a rough spun linen, the uneven off-white of an undyed fabric. In contrast, her brown wavy hair was well brushed and the front half was pulled back and secured with a piece of string, leaving the rest of her hair cascading down her back. She might have been able to pass for the servant or apprentice of a craftsperson who had been sent to the market to sell their wares.
Chrysanthe watched as the others milled about, looking at the flowers, and seeming to ignore her small knitted and embroidered goods. Her things were not what the people came here to buy after all. She knew that she should probably try harder to push people to notice her, otherwise she’d never make a sale in this market. She looked around for someone who looked like they might be looking to buy, but her eyes instead fell on a woman browsing nearby. Her looks were unremarkable, but that was not what drew Chrysanthe’s attention. It was the look in the woman’s eyes, a look that she recognized. Despite the smile plastered on the woman’s face, she could tell that something was wrong.
Chrysanthe could tell that the woman was above her in station, but she couldn’t bring herself to just ignore her. At the very least, she felt that it was her obligation to try to help. Chrysanthe came up beside the woman, at first just acting as if she was browsing next to her. When she got close enough to be heard, Chrysanthe spoke quietly. ”Is everything ok, my Lady?” Chrysanthe wasn’t sure the woman was actually a Lady, but she knew it was a better bet to call her by a higher rank than to assume one too low.
Flowers. It symbolized many things, depending on the bloom one picked. Roses had many colors, and represented many things. But so did others. Death, affection, love, generosity, family relations... it was amazing what one could say simply by picking the right bloom in the right shade of color, and how quickly one could go wrong. But most of all, flowers seemed to bring life back to a Kingdom, as if the colors it lent to Vasiliadon could bring back the laughter, and banish the dark gloom that seemed to have settled over the Taengean's ever since the death of their former King.
It didn't banis hers.
But then again, to banish an eight year long void in her heart. Zenais was beginning to think nothing would. Perhaps if she chose to willingly burn the red chiton that still resided at the base of her trunk in her small room above the tavern, it would help her - but everytime she wanted to, something held her back. Always, something held her back.
The girls in the tavern had urged Zenais to take a step out of the tavern tonight - with the festival, no one would be around in the afternoon for their usual pint of ale or mead. Her work would truly start once evening darkened the horizones, so Zenais technically had the time. Not that she wanted to.
But her friends were not taking no for an answer. So bundling Zenais in one of her many serviceable brown chitons of rough linen, the entertainer was pushed out on the streets of Taengea right into the thick of the flower festival, where the sickening cloy of freshly cut blooms filled the air, and Vasiliadon felt much like how it used to be prior to the tragedy. Meandering through the throngs of people, the laughter brought a wistful smile to Zenais, the sound a reminder of a life she had had prior - before her life had upended on itself. Days could past that it didn't happen, but all it took was one small reminder for the memories of her family returned to her. Zenais would wonder what had happened to her brother and father. And even more, she would think of what has happened to him. While Zenais tried to get as much information as she could about him... one could get little across the seas, for someone of her position.
Eyes took in a nearby stall which had, surprisingly, knitted goods and embroidered ware. An anomaly for a shop set up in the flower festival. Still, it would make sense - not everyone wanted flowers. Zenais certainly did not. It reminded her too much the grass crowns he had given her once upon a time. Instead, Zenais picked at the knitted ware, an embroidered piece of cloth that perhaps, she could afford a short piece of to adorn one of her performing chitons.
The question the owner of the shop made Zenais look up - blinking a moment, before she realized that it was not her the shop owner referred to. The woman did, however, instinctively turn to look at who the question was directed, and it did not take a genius for someone to see that perhaps the smile was a forced one on the maiden's lips. "Perhaps it would be easier to ask if... are you okay, my Lady?" her tone was of finesse, polished as it was, a sign she was of nobility - but she was no longer a noble.
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Flowers. It symbolized many things, depending on the bloom one picked. Roses had many colors, and represented many things. But so did others. Death, affection, love, generosity, family relations... it was amazing what one could say simply by picking the right bloom in the right shade of color, and how quickly one could go wrong. But most of all, flowers seemed to bring life back to a Kingdom, as if the colors it lent to Vasiliadon could bring back the laughter, and banish the dark gloom that seemed to have settled over the Taengean's ever since the death of their former King.
It didn't banis hers.
But then again, to banish an eight year long void in her heart. Zenais was beginning to think nothing would. Perhaps if she chose to willingly burn the red chiton that still resided at the base of her trunk in her small room above the tavern, it would help her - but everytime she wanted to, something held her back. Always, something held her back.
The girls in the tavern had urged Zenais to take a step out of the tavern tonight - with the festival, no one would be around in the afternoon for their usual pint of ale or mead. Her work would truly start once evening darkened the horizones, so Zenais technically had the time. Not that she wanted to.
But her friends were not taking no for an answer. So bundling Zenais in one of her many serviceable brown chitons of rough linen, the entertainer was pushed out on the streets of Taengea right into the thick of the flower festival, where the sickening cloy of freshly cut blooms filled the air, and Vasiliadon felt much like how it used to be prior to the tragedy. Meandering through the throngs of people, the laughter brought a wistful smile to Zenais, the sound a reminder of a life she had had prior - before her life had upended on itself. Days could past that it didn't happen, but all it took was one small reminder for the memories of her family returned to her. Zenais would wonder what had happened to her brother and father. And even more, she would think of what has happened to him. While Zenais tried to get as much information as she could about him... one could get little across the seas, for someone of her position.
Eyes took in a nearby stall which had, surprisingly, knitted goods and embroidered ware. An anomaly for a shop set up in the flower festival. Still, it would make sense - not everyone wanted flowers. Zenais certainly did not. It reminded her too much the grass crowns he had given her once upon a time. Instead, Zenais picked at the knitted ware, an embroidered piece of cloth that perhaps, she could afford a short piece of to adorn one of her performing chitons.
The question the owner of the shop made Zenais look up - blinking a moment, before she realized that it was not her the shop owner referred to. The woman did, however, instinctively turn to look at who the question was directed, and it did not take a genius for someone to see that perhaps the smile was a forced one on the maiden's lips. "Perhaps it would be easier to ask if... are you okay, my Lady?" her tone was of finesse, polished as it was, a sign she was of nobility - but she was no longer a noble.
Flowers. It symbolized many things, depending on the bloom one picked. Roses had many colors, and represented many things. But so did others. Death, affection, love, generosity, family relations... it was amazing what one could say simply by picking the right bloom in the right shade of color, and how quickly one could go wrong. But most of all, flowers seemed to bring life back to a Kingdom, as if the colors it lent to Vasiliadon could bring back the laughter, and banish the dark gloom that seemed to have settled over the Taengean's ever since the death of their former King.
It didn't banis hers.
But then again, to banish an eight year long void in her heart. Zenais was beginning to think nothing would. Perhaps if she chose to willingly burn the red chiton that still resided at the base of her trunk in her small room above the tavern, it would help her - but everytime she wanted to, something held her back. Always, something held her back.
The girls in the tavern had urged Zenais to take a step out of the tavern tonight - with the festival, no one would be around in the afternoon for their usual pint of ale or mead. Her work would truly start once evening darkened the horizones, so Zenais technically had the time. Not that she wanted to.
But her friends were not taking no for an answer. So bundling Zenais in one of her many serviceable brown chitons of rough linen, the entertainer was pushed out on the streets of Taengea right into the thick of the flower festival, where the sickening cloy of freshly cut blooms filled the air, and Vasiliadon felt much like how it used to be prior to the tragedy. Meandering through the throngs of people, the laughter brought a wistful smile to Zenais, the sound a reminder of a life she had had prior - before her life had upended on itself. Days could past that it didn't happen, but all it took was one small reminder for the memories of her family returned to her. Zenais would wonder what had happened to her brother and father. And even more, she would think of what has happened to him. While Zenais tried to get as much information as she could about him... one could get little across the seas, for someone of her position.
Eyes took in a nearby stall which had, surprisingly, knitted goods and embroidered ware. An anomaly for a shop set up in the flower festival. Still, it would make sense - not everyone wanted flowers. Zenais certainly did not. It reminded her too much the grass crowns he had given her once upon a time. Instead, Zenais picked at the knitted ware, an embroidered piece of cloth that perhaps, she could afford a short piece of to adorn one of her performing chitons.
The question the owner of the shop made Zenais look up - blinking a moment, before she realized that it was not her the shop owner referred to. The woman did, however, instinctively turn to look at who the question was directed, and it did not take a genius for someone to see that perhaps the smile was a forced one on the maiden's lips. "Perhaps it would be easier to ask if... are you okay, my Lady?" her tone was of finesse, polished as it was, a sign she was of nobility - but she was no longer a noble.
It was easy to get lost in a crowd this large. Despite a lack of skills when it came to talking to other people, she actually was beginning to enjoy the bustle of it all. She could be invisible. Oh, how she had dreamed so many times how great it would be to be absolutely invisible. Cretheus could never touch her, never find her, never lay his seedy eyes upon her. However, it was amazing that she was also feeling so very lonely in the middle of a crowd. She clearly wasn't alone at all.
She had just been admiring the flowers as she touched one petal and then another. They were of types that she had never seen. It was easy to get lost in her own mind. Obsess over the fact that there was so very little of the world that she actually knew about. The more she moved around the market, the more she realized how clueless she was. She barely knew the etiquette, she didn't know all the foods, the flowers, the pieces of goods all over the place. They were exquisite and she hadn't even known that these sorts of beautiful items existed.
"Huh..." Barely a syllable whispered between her lips as those green eyes looked up from what she was looking at. One left brow quirked up to the side in curiosity before another woman had chimed in with a rewording of the question. But, it wasn't a problem with the syntax of the query. It was a confusion that anyone in this place would care what was on her mind or if she was okay. She was never okay. Not really. This wasn't the place for a life story and everyone had their own baggage, that was one of the only pieces of wisdom she did know.
"Yes, thank you for the concern. I am quite lovely today. Isn't the weather perfect for a festival?" She nodded with her words, hoping that it wouldn't come off as overcompensating for the lie. It wasn't that she was bad. She was away from home and slightly missed her children. She didn't miss the monster. The comment about the weather was true. Was there anything that could sully a day like this? Anything that could rip away the beauty of the items of the market and the flowers all around them. Taengea was beautiful and she was just starting to explore it.
"My ladies, have you been to this before? Do you have any suggestions on what a person must see or do?" Her head curiously moved to the side. She wanted the subject on anything besides what she was feeling.
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This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
It was easy to get lost in a crowd this large. Despite a lack of skills when it came to talking to other people, she actually was beginning to enjoy the bustle of it all. She could be invisible. Oh, how she had dreamed so many times how great it would be to be absolutely invisible. Cretheus could never touch her, never find her, never lay his seedy eyes upon her. However, it was amazing that she was also feeling so very lonely in the middle of a crowd. She clearly wasn't alone at all.
She had just been admiring the flowers as she touched one petal and then another. They were of types that she had never seen. It was easy to get lost in her own mind. Obsess over the fact that there was so very little of the world that she actually knew about. The more she moved around the market, the more she realized how clueless she was. She barely knew the etiquette, she didn't know all the foods, the flowers, the pieces of goods all over the place. They were exquisite and she hadn't even known that these sorts of beautiful items existed.
"Huh..." Barely a syllable whispered between her lips as those green eyes looked up from what she was looking at. One left brow quirked up to the side in curiosity before another woman had chimed in with a rewording of the question. But, it wasn't a problem with the syntax of the query. It was a confusion that anyone in this place would care what was on her mind or if she was okay. She was never okay. Not really. This wasn't the place for a life story and everyone had their own baggage, that was one of the only pieces of wisdom she did know.
"Yes, thank you for the concern. I am quite lovely today. Isn't the weather perfect for a festival?" She nodded with her words, hoping that it wouldn't come off as overcompensating for the lie. It wasn't that she was bad. She was away from home and slightly missed her children. She didn't miss the monster. The comment about the weather was true. Was there anything that could sully a day like this? Anything that could rip away the beauty of the items of the market and the flowers all around them. Taengea was beautiful and she was just starting to explore it.
"My ladies, have you been to this before? Do you have any suggestions on what a person must see or do?" Her head curiously moved to the side. She wanted the subject on anything besides what she was feeling.
It was easy to get lost in a crowd this large. Despite a lack of skills when it came to talking to other people, she actually was beginning to enjoy the bustle of it all. She could be invisible. Oh, how she had dreamed so many times how great it would be to be absolutely invisible. Cretheus could never touch her, never find her, never lay his seedy eyes upon her. However, it was amazing that she was also feeling so very lonely in the middle of a crowd. She clearly wasn't alone at all.
She had just been admiring the flowers as she touched one petal and then another. They were of types that she had never seen. It was easy to get lost in her own mind. Obsess over the fact that there was so very little of the world that she actually knew about. The more she moved around the market, the more she realized how clueless she was. She barely knew the etiquette, she didn't know all the foods, the flowers, the pieces of goods all over the place. They were exquisite and she hadn't even known that these sorts of beautiful items existed.
"Huh..." Barely a syllable whispered between her lips as those green eyes looked up from what she was looking at. One left brow quirked up to the side in curiosity before another woman had chimed in with a rewording of the question. But, it wasn't a problem with the syntax of the query. It was a confusion that anyone in this place would care what was on her mind or if she was okay. She was never okay. Not really. This wasn't the place for a life story and everyone had their own baggage, that was one of the only pieces of wisdom she did know.
"Yes, thank you for the concern. I am quite lovely today. Isn't the weather perfect for a festival?" She nodded with her words, hoping that it wouldn't come off as overcompensating for the lie. It wasn't that she was bad. She was away from home and slightly missed her children. She didn't miss the monster. The comment about the weather was true. Was there anything that could sully a day like this? Anything that could rip away the beauty of the items of the market and the flowers all around them. Taengea was beautiful and she was just starting to explore it.
"My ladies, have you been to this before? Do you have any suggestions on what a person must see or do?" Her head curiously moved to the side. She wanted the subject on anything besides what she was feeling.
Chrysanthe had hoped to be subtle with her own questioning, but it seemed that her concern had attracted the interest of yet another woman who was nearby. It didn’t surprise her that the woman didn’t want to discuss was wrong after so much attention had been drawn to it. Besides, Chrysanthe could perfectly understand the desire to focus on the good instead of the bad about the situation. It was often how she dealt with the things that made her unhappy within her own life. With a life like her own, Chrysanthe often found that concentrating on the positives was the only way that she could make it through at all.
Chrysanthe immediately changed her tack with the unhappy woman, letting herself smile at the beautiful day, despite her embarrassment about being addressed as a lady. She hadn’t really considered the day before, having been busy with her own work, but the woman was right.”It is the perfect weather for the festival. Chrysanthe agreed with a smile, looking up to the sky. Only puffy white clouds were visible, not a chance of rain in sight.
Unfortunately, her knowledge of what to do at the market was limited. Chrysanthe had never been at liberty to explore the market to her own satisfaction. She tried to recall back to when she was a young child, and her family had yet to disown her. They must have gone to the flower market from time to time, but if they had, it was when Chrysanthe was too young to remember. ”I’m sorry, my lady.” Chrysanthe addressed Aikaterine, ”I’ve not had a chance to see much of the festival, as I have to work. She nodded back towards her small setup. ”But I have heard there are many fun things to do. I hope you get to enjoy them.” Chrysanthe knew in the back of her head that Rhode would have wanted her to press the woman to buy something, but Chrysanthe didn’t feel right to try to sell to a woman who she was only talking to because she felt she needed to help.
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Chrysanthe had hoped to be subtle with her own questioning, but it seemed that her concern had attracted the interest of yet another woman who was nearby. It didn’t surprise her that the woman didn’t want to discuss was wrong after so much attention had been drawn to it. Besides, Chrysanthe could perfectly understand the desire to focus on the good instead of the bad about the situation. It was often how she dealt with the things that made her unhappy within her own life. With a life like her own, Chrysanthe often found that concentrating on the positives was the only way that she could make it through at all.
Chrysanthe immediately changed her tack with the unhappy woman, letting herself smile at the beautiful day, despite her embarrassment about being addressed as a lady. She hadn’t really considered the day before, having been busy with her own work, but the woman was right.”It is the perfect weather for the festival. Chrysanthe agreed with a smile, looking up to the sky. Only puffy white clouds were visible, not a chance of rain in sight.
Unfortunately, her knowledge of what to do at the market was limited. Chrysanthe had never been at liberty to explore the market to her own satisfaction. She tried to recall back to when she was a young child, and her family had yet to disown her. They must have gone to the flower market from time to time, but if they had, it was when Chrysanthe was too young to remember. ”I’m sorry, my lady.” Chrysanthe addressed Aikaterine, ”I’ve not had a chance to see much of the festival, as I have to work. She nodded back towards her small setup. ”But I have heard there are many fun things to do. I hope you get to enjoy them.” Chrysanthe knew in the back of her head that Rhode would have wanted her to press the woman to buy something, but Chrysanthe didn’t feel right to try to sell to a woman who she was only talking to because she felt she needed to help.
Chrysanthe had hoped to be subtle with her own questioning, but it seemed that her concern had attracted the interest of yet another woman who was nearby. It didn’t surprise her that the woman didn’t want to discuss was wrong after so much attention had been drawn to it. Besides, Chrysanthe could perfectly understand the desire to focus on the good instead of the bad about the situation. It was often how she dealt with the things that made her unhappy within her own life. With a life like her own, Chrysanthe often found that concentrating on the positives was the only way that she could make it through at all.
Chrysanthe immediately changed her tack with the unhappy woman, letting herself smile at the beautiful day, despite her embarrassment about being addressed as a lady. She hadn’t really considered the day before, having been busy with her own work, but the woman was right.”It is the perfect weather for the festival. Chrysanthe agreed with a smile, looking up to the sky. Only puffy white clouds were visible, not a chance of rain in sight.
Unfortunately, her knowledge of what to do at the market was limited. Chrysanthe had never been at liberty to explore the market to her own satisfaction. She tried to recall back to when she was a young child, and her family had yet to disown her. They must have gone to the flower market from time to time, but if they had, it was when Chrysanthe was too young to remember. ”I’m sorry, my lady.” Chrysanthe addressed Aikaterine, ”I’ve not had a chance to see much of the festival, as I have to work. She nodded back towards her small setup. ”But I have heard there are many fun things to do. I hope you get to enjoy them.” Chrysanthe knew in the back of her head that Rhode would have wanted her to press the woman to buy something, but Chrysanthe didn’t feel right to try to sell to a woman who she was only talking to because she felt she needed to help.
The weather was a safe topic most people fell back to when it came to conversation. Zenais would recognize it - she used it often herself to deflect conversations, especially if it pertained to her past. Even after a good few years of residing as a resident of the Taengean kingdom, the woman could safely say barely anyone knew of the reason why she had arrived in Vasiliadon in the dead of the night on a ship, and had stayed on ever since. Zenais preferred to keep it that way.
And perhaps the other woman wanted it that way too, and far be it for Zenais to deny someone their wish. So in return, the brunette nodded, giving a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she murmured, "It would help in regaining the streets its color, and injecting life back in the city, if anything." the singer murmured, and shook her head afterwards. "I'm not one for festivals, really. I'm afraid I'm here under duress." A light chuckle accompanied her final few words, as if she was making light of the situation.
When the third woman mentioned of her lack of knowledge of the festival, it was at that point that Zenais let out a peal of laughter, before leaning forward to brush the soft, velveteen petals of a red bloom on hr lips. "Well, I guess that's where we can explore, can we not? There are streets upon streets of this stuff after all - and last I heard, it was not just flowers that are on sale, even if they are the most proliferate wares on display." Zenais was eager to see what other people had come to Taengea for the festival - more specifically, whether or not there was news from the other kingdoms.
Straightening up again, she smoothened her dress down, and gave a light dip of her head to both ladies, lacing her hands behind her. "I shall take my leave here - the festival interests me much, but I'm afraid I shall be poor company with my mind wandering. Should you wish for some entertainment though... the Singing Swan down by the docks provides great music. I should know - I'm the one singing.' With another dip of her head, Zenais turned on her heel and strolled off down the street of the city, eyes shuttered but alert for anything around the market.
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The weather was a safe topic most people fell back to when it came to conversation. Zenais would recognize it - she used it often herself to deflect conversations, especially if it pertained to her past. Even after a good few years of residing as a resident of the Taengean kingdom, the woman could safely say barely anyone knew of the reason why she had arrived in Vasiliadon in the dead of the night on a ship, and had stayed on ever since. Zenais preferred to keep it that way.
And perhaps the other woman wanted it that way too, and far be it for Zenais to deny someone their wish. So in return, the brunette nodded, giving a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she murmured, "It would help in regaining the streets its color, and injecting life back in the city, if anything." the singer murmured, and shook her head afterwards. "I'm not one for festivals, really. I'm afraid I'm here under duress." A light chuckle accompanied her final few words, as if she was making light of the situation.
When the third woman mentioned of her lack of knowledge of the festival, it was at that point that Zenais let out a peal of laughter, before leaning forward to brush the soft, velveteen petals of a red bloom on hr lips. "Well, I guess that's where we can explore, can we not? There are streets upon streets of this stuff after all - and last I heard, it was not just flowers that are on sale, even if they are the most proliferate wares on display." Zenais was eager to see what other people had come to Taengea for the festival - more specifically, whether or not there was news from the other kingdoms.
Straightening up again, she smoothened her dress down, and gave a light dip of her head to both ladies, lacing her hands behind her. "I shall take my leave here - the festival interests me much, but I'm afraid I shall be poor company with my mind wandering. Should you wish for some entertainment though... the Singing Swan down by the docks provides great music. I should know - I'm the one singing.' With another dip of her head, Zenais turned on her heel and strolled off down the street of the city, eyes shuttered but alert for anything around the market.
The weather was a safe topic most people fell back to when it came to conversation. Zenais would recognize it - she used it often herself to deflect conversations, especially if it pertained to her past. Even after a good few years of residing as a resident of the Taengean kingdom, the woman could safely say barely anyone knew of the reason why she had arrived in Vasiliadon in the dead of the night on a ship, and had stayed on ever since. Zenais preferred to keep it that way.
And perhaps the other woman wanted it that way too, and far be it for Zenais to deny someone their wish. So in return, the brunette nodded, giving a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she murmured, "It would help in regaining the streets its color, and injecting life back in the city, if anything." the singer murmured, and shook her head afterwards. "I'm not one for festivals, really. I'm afraid I'm here under duress." A light chuckle accompanied her final few words, as if she was making light of the situation.
When the third woman mentioned of her lack of knowledge of the festival, it was at that point that Zenais let out a peal of laughter, before leaning forward to brush the soft, velveteen petals of a red bloom on hr lips. "Well, I guess that's where we can explore, can we not? There are streets upon streets of this stuff after all - and last I heard, it was not just flowers that are on sale, even if they are the most proliferate wares on display." Zenais was eager to see what other people had come to Taengea for the festival - more specifically, whether or not there was news from the other kingdoms.
Straightening up again, she smoothened her dress down, and gave a light dip of her head to both ladies, lacing her hands behind her. "I shall take my leave here - the festival interests me much, but I'm afraid I shall be poor company with my mind wandering. Should you wish for some entertainment though... the Singing Swan down by the docks provides great music. I should know - I'm the one singing.' With another dip of her head, Zenais turned on her heel and strolled off down the street of the city, eyes shuttered but alert for anything around the market.
Léonide’s heart was filled with cheer, as indicated by the gentle smile he wore as he twirled a stray blossom between his fingers. On his lap was a bouquet of untrimmed wildflowers, with petals strewn across the ground like splatters of stray paint. Before him were many more heaps of his bounty, some erect in vases and others tossed about. He was quite pleased by his turnout; his herd had started to dwindle, which left more space in his field for wildflowers to grow. A silver lining to everything. Those who recognized the foreign features of Léon might give a second look to the shepherd selling petals instead of wool, for though the festival was bi-monthly his flowers would take four times as long to grow. However, it was a tradition Léon wouldn’t miss for the world. Among the light air, fluffy gossip and fragrant scents, he felt at home. It sure beat standing alone in a pasture all day.
His favorite of the flowers by far were the edelweiss, as was the one he twirled in his hand. Most of his childhood was set as a blur in his memory, faint details often escaped him. However, he always fondly recalled the edelweiss, simple white flowers barely larger than his finger. It sprung up everywhere back at his birth home, it covered the hills like wool on a lamb. The flower occupied Léon so much he hadn’t noticed an unfamiliar man approach his booth, and when he spoke he jumped slightly. Léon’s eyes traveled up to a man who looked more put together than himself, at the very least his hair wasn’t woven with pollen.
As the man spoke, he nodded absently while his eyes flirted about to see if the man was with anyone. A bit of a devious smile crossed Léon’s face. Perhaps a lover out of view? The romance the festival attracted were a spectacle in their own regard, and were quite the entertainment for Léon. When he had finished his question, Léon looked down for a reddish flower. Léon lifted the pile on his lap to the table before him, thinning the stack so the man could get a better view. “I do have a good deal here, sir. I’m not so sure about reds… red, red...” he gave a wild grab at a few, until he was able to produce a reddish-orange flower with thin but numerous petals. Just as he was going to hand it to the man, another person approached.
He was just as tall as the first man, but more stocky and gave the sense of a soldier. Perhaps he was, as he addressed the first man with seasoned manners. “Pink...” a color most unfitting for such a man, now this had to have a story. As he browsed his bounty, a question fell out of his lips, “a lucky lady?” It was terribly out of form, and place, for him to ask, but small talk was small talk. His fingers found a pink flower whos form suggested it a distant cousin to the rose, and he gave it to the hand still holding the red one.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Léonide’s heart was filled with cheer, as indicated by the gentle smile he wore as he twirled a stray blossom between his fingers. On his lap was a bouquet of untrimmed wildflowers, with petals strewn across the ground like splatters of stray paint. Before him were many more heaps of his bounty, some erect in vases and others tossed about. He was quite pleased by his turnout; his herd had started to dwindle, which left more space in his field for wildflowers to grow. A silver lining to everything. Those who recognized the foreign features of Léon might give a second look to the shepherd selling petals instead of wool, for though the festival was bi-monthly his flowers would take four times as long to grow. However, it was a tradition Léon wouldn’t miss for the world. Among the light air, fluffy gossip and fragrant scents, he felt at home. It sure beat standing alone in a pasture all day.
His favorite of the flowers by far were the edelweiss, as was the one he twirled in his hand. Most of his childhood was set as a blur in his memory, faint details often escaped him. However, he always fondly recalled the edelweiss, simple white flowers barely larger than his finger. It sprung up everywhere back at his birth home, it covered the hills like wool on a lamb. The flower occupied Léon so much he hadn’t noticed an unfamiliar man approach his booth, and when he spoke he jumped slightly. Léon’s eyes traveled up to a man who looked more put together than himself, at the very least his hair wasn’t woven with pollen.
As the man spoke, he nodded absently while his eyes flirted about to see if the man was with anyone. A bit of a devious smile crossed Léon’s face. Perhaps a lover out of view? The romance the festival attracted were a spectacle in their own regard, and were quite the entertainment for Léon. When he had finished his question, Léon looked down for a reddish flower. Léon lifted the pile on his lap to the table before him, thinning the stack so the man could get a better view. “I do have a good deal here, sir. I’m not so sure about reds… red, red...” he gave a wild grab at a few, until he was able to produce a reddish-orange flower with thin but numerous petals. Just as he was going to hand it to the man, another person approached.
He was just as tall as the first man, but more stocky and gave the sense of a soldier. Perhaps he was, as he addressed the first man with seasoned manners. “Pink...” a color most unfitting for such a man, now this had to have a story. As he browsed his bounty, a question fell out of his lips, “a lucky lady?” It was terribly out of form, and place, for him to ask, but small talk was small talk. His fingers found a pink flower whos form suggested it a distant cousin to the rose, and he gave it to the hand still holding the red one.
Léonide’s heart was filled with cheer, as indicated by the gentle smile he wore as he twirled a stray blossom between his fingers. On his lap was a bouquet of untrimmed wildflowers, with petals strewn across the ground like splatters of stray paint. Before him were many more heaps of his bounty, some erect in vases and others tossed about. He was quite pleased by his turnout; his herd had started to dwindle, which left more space in his field for wildflowers to grow. A silver lining to everything. Those who recognized the foreign features of Léon might give a second look to the shepherd selling petals instead of wool, for though the festival was bi-monthly his flowers would take four times as long to grow. However, it was a tradition Léon wouldn’t miss for the world. Among the light air, fluffy gossip and fragrant scents, he felt at home. It sure beat standing alone in a pasture all day.
His favorite of the flowers by far were the edelweiss, as was the one he twirled in his hand. Most of his childhood was set as a blur in his memory, faint details often escaped him. However, he always fondly recalled the edelweiss, simple white flowers barely larger than his finger. It sprung up everywhere back at his birth home, it covered the hills like wool on a lamb. The flower occupied Léon so much he hadn’t noticed an unfamiliar man approach his booth, and when he spoke he jumped slightly. Léon’s eyes traveled up to a man who looked more put together than himself, at the very least his hair wasn’t woven with pollen.
As the man spoke, he nodded absently while his eyes flirted about to see if the man was with anyone. A bit of a devious smile crossed Léon’s face. Perhaps a lover out of view? The romance the festival attracted were a spectacle in their own regard, and were quite the entertainment for Léon. When he had finished his question, Léon looked down for a reddish flower. Léon lifted the pile on his lap to the table before him, thinning the stack so the man could get a better view. “I do have a good deal here, sir. I’m not so sure about reds… red, red...” he gave a wild grab at a few, until he was able to produce a reddish-orange flower with thin but numerous petals. Just as he was going to hand it to the man, another person approached.
He was just as tall as the first man, but more stocky and gave the sense of a soldier. Perhaps he was, as he addressed the first man with seasoned manners. “Pink...” a color most unfitting for such a man, now this had to have a story. As he browsed his bounty, a question fell out of his lips, “a lucky lady?” It was terribly out of form, and place, for him to ask, but small talk was small talk. His fingers found a pink flower whos form suggested it a distant cousin to the rose, and he gave it to the hand still holding the red one.
Symon's lips twitched with quiet amusement as the man selling flowers mulled over his request for a variant color. One would think that red would be more common but given the selection he had actually seen little. Perhaps red was more popular this year, picked over by early festival goers? Or, maybe hybrids drew more revenue?
It seemed he wasn't alone in looking for a slight variation on the wares presented. Before his own request could be answered by the vendor another man approached.
Symon gave an eloquent shrug over the interruption, "No worries," he replied quietly, dismissing the implied apology as unnecessary. In any case he wasn't in a rush, killing time more or less.
His attention returned to the vendor as more flowers were offered. Symon held out a hand, a plan to view the newest bloom a bit closer if it were offered for inspection.
"I'd likely need six," he explained. "All matching if possible." The gambler chose not to disclose his true intent, saying only, "I plan to dry them...for decoration."
Other voices could be heard, and Symon glanced over his shoulder thinking perhaps he heard a tone familiar, but didn't immediately identify the woman who spoke at the nearby needlework stall. Instead, he retuned his attention to the flowers and the people he stood near.
"If you don't have that many, I could take a few white if the price is right." Ever frugal he would expect some sort of discount for the flaw.[/div] The flower market itself had many blooms to choose from. Symon's nose wrinkled again over the smell. He was here to people watch and take in the gossip, but now that he was contemplating a purchase he kept his focus on the two men with him. And, if he went to a second vendor he would have a reason to only glance around and refuse a second purchase. Content with that logic, he awaited the answer to the red verses white question, while deflecting the romantic query towards the other customer with a glance. Perhaps the soldier had some 'lucky' lady to gush about?
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Symon's lips twitched with quiet amusement as the man selling flowers mulled over his request for a variant color. One would think that red would be more common but given the selection he had actually seen little. Perhaps red was more popular this year, picked over by early festival goers? Or, maybe hybrids drew more revenue?
It seemed he wasn't alone in looking for a slight variation on the wares presented. Before his own request could be answered by the vendor another man approached.
Symon gave an eloquent shrug over the interruption, "No worries," he replied quietly, dismissing the implied apology as unnecessary. In any case he wasn't in a rush, killing time more or less.
His attention returned to the vendor as more flowers were offered. Symon held out a hand, a plan to view the newest bloom a bit closer if it were offered for inspection.
"I'd likely need six," he explained. "All matching if possible." The gambler chose not to disclose his true intent, saying only, "I plan to dry them...for decoration."
Other voices could be heard, and Symon glanced over his shoulder thinking perhaps he heard a tone familiar, but didn't immediately identify the woman who spoke at the nearby needlework stall. Instead, he retuned his attention to the flowers and the people he stood near.
"If you don't have that many, I could take a few white if the price is right." Ever frugal he would expect some sort of discount for the flaw.[/div] The flower market itself had many blooms to choose from. Symon's nose wrinkled again over the smell. He was here to people watch and take in the gossip, but now that he was contemplating a purchase he kept his focus on the two men with him. And, if he went to a second vendor he would have a reason to only glance around and refuse a second purchase. Content with that logic, he awaited the answer to the red verses white question, while deflecting the romantic query towards the other customer with a glance. Perhaps the soldier had some 'lucky' lady to gush about?
Symon's lips twitched with quiet amusement as the man selling flowers mulled over his request for a variant color. One would think that red would be more common but given the selection he had actually seen little. Perhaps red was more popular this year, picked over by early festival goers? Or, maybe hybrids drew more revenue?
It seemed he wasn't alone in looking for a slight variation on the wares presented. Before his own request could be answered by the vendor another man approached.
Symon gave an eloquent shrug over the interruption, "No worries," he replied quietly, dismissing the implied apology as unnecessary. In any case he wasn't in a rush, killing time more or less.
His attention returned to the vendor as more flowers were offered. Symon held out a hand, a plan to view the newest bloom a bit closer if it were offered for inspection.
"I'd likely need six," he explained. "All matching if possible." The gambler chose not to disclose his true intent, saying only, "I plan to dry them...for decoration."
Other voices could be heard, and Symon glanced over his shoulder thinking perhaps he heard a tone familiar, but didn't immediately identify the woman who spoke at the nearby needlework stall. Instead, he retuned his attention to the flowers and the people he stood near.
"If you don't have that many, I could take a few white if the price is right." Ever frugal he would expect some sort of discount for the flaw.[/div] The flower market itself had many blooms to choose from. Symon's nose wrinkled again over the smell. He was here to people watch and take in the gossip, but now that he was contemplating a purchase he kept his focus on the two men with him. And, if he went to a second vendor he would have a reason to only glance around and refuse a second purchase. Content with that logic, he awaited the answer to the red verses white question, while deflecting the romantic query towards the other customer with a glance. Perhaps the soldier had some 'lucky' lady to gush about?
While the rest of her family, immediate and extended alike were kept busy and on their toes because of the close proximity some or all of them came to the Creed during the horrific event, Evelli was determined that their life should go on. Her husband had his duties to ensure the safety of their family, as did most husbands, but for Evelli, she saw it her own personal duty to imbue as much normalcy into life - and with flowers, everything would seem much easier.
One would ask, how would simply blooms do much to make one feel better? Well, perhaps by themselves, they would not, but there was a reason why the nobility like their flower baths and scented oils. They provide a calming essence in the air, and Evelli was hoping that it would help while her family resided within the Vasiliadon.
However, with errands taking up a large part of her day, ensuring Olympia's health in the morning (as she was doing quite often ever since her third daughter was married), to visiting the temples (Evelli was not taking her chances again, especially not when her husband was ill), and then to ensuring the household was running like clockwork, it was late evening by the time the lady of the Leventi household found her way to the main area of the flower festival and market. The sun was dimming as her carriage rolled to a stop, and servants hurried to open the doors of her vehicle, but the heady scent of blooms still remained as she set both feet on the ground, and took a deep breathe.
"Illyia, please fetch a mass of windflowers, enough so that there would be a clutch of 7 in each of the girl's rooms." she instructed the maid standing next to her. The young brunette quickly curtsied, and ran off to do as her mistress instructed, the pouch of coins Evelli had passed to her whilst she spoke clutched in her hands. That done, and only then did Evelli started moving forward, smiling as merchants and vendors hailed her. While she may not be a permanent figure in Vasiliadon, her presence in recent months meant some knew her, if not all.
Stopping to linger at some of the few stalls still open, Evelli was quick to purchase some herbal remedies she thought would be beneficial to Olympia upon her birth, and some other herbal teas which would be calming to her daughters. Behind her trailed her retinue of two more maids and four guards flanking her, and while her stance was prideful and sure, Evelli did not wear a haughty look upon her beautiful visage despite her age showing. She may have been tiring easily in recent weeks ever since Georgios took to bed ill, but Evelli was intent in ensuring her household and family was cared for.
As the event wrapped up and people's conversations tapered to wither away for theri return home to their family, Evelli meandered to take in the last few vestiges of the festival as much as she could. When the time came for her to return, she would board the carriage again, with a few handfuls of anemone and ash to add to the blooms she intended to place in each of her girl's rooms, as well as the foyer and waiting rooms of the second Leventi manor, but as she wakled for now, Evelli was content to simply take in the sights and the sounds as they were. It was a rare time, to have the peace that seemed almost foreign after weeks of living in fear in the wake of the Creed attack... but Evelli was determined to have that peaceful life back.
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While the rest of her family, immediate and extended alike were kept busy and on their toes because of the close proximity some or all of them came to the Creed during the horrific event, Evelli was determined that their life should go on. Her husband had his duties to ensure the safety of their family, as did most husbands, but for Evelli, she saw it her own personal duty to imbue as much normalcy into life - and with flowers, everything would seem much easier.
One would ask, how would simply blooms do much to make one feel better? Well, perhaps by themselves, they would not, but there was a reason why the nobility like their flower baths and scented oils. They provide a calming essence in the air, and Evelli was hoping that it would help while her family resided within the Vasiliadon.
However, with errands taking up a large part of her day, ensuring Olympia's health in the morning (as she was doing quite often ever since her third daughter was married), to visiting the temples (Evelli was not taking her chances again, especially not when her husband was ill), and then to ensuring the household was running like clockwork, it was late evening by the time the lady of the Leventi household found her way to the main area of the flower festival and market. The sun was dimming as her carriage rolled to a stop, and servants hurried to open the doors of her vehicle, but the heady scent of blooms still remained as she set both feet on the ground, and took a deep breathe.
"Illyia, please fetch a mass of windflowers, enough so that there would be a clutch of 7 in each of the girl's rooms." she instructed the maid standing next to her. The young brunette quickly curtsied, and ran off to do as her mistress instructed, the pouch of coins Evelli had passed to her whilst she spoke clutched in her hands. That done, and only then did Evelli started moving forward, smiling as merchants and vendors hailed her. While she may not be a permanent figure in Vasiliadon, her presence in recent months meant some knew her, if not all.
Stopping to linger at some of the few stalls still open, Evelli was quick to purchase some herbal remedies she thought would be beneficial to Olympia upon her birth, and some other herbal teas which would be calming to her daughters. Behind her trailed her retinue of two more maids and four guards flanking her, and while her stance was prideful and sure, Evelli did not wear a haughty look upon her beautiful visage despite her age showing. She may have been tiring easily in recent weeks ever since Georgios took to bed ill, but Evelli was intent in ensuring her household and family was cared for.
As the event wrapped up and people's conversations tapered to wither away for theri return home to their family, Evelli meandered to take in the last few vestiges of the festival as much as she could. When the time came for her to return, she would board the carriage again, with a few handfuls of anemone and ash to add to the blooms she intended to place in each of her girl's rooms, as well as the foyer and waiting rooms of the second Leventi manor, but as she wakled for now, Evelli was content to simply take in the sights and the sounds as they were. It was a rare time, to have the peace that seemed almost foreign after weeks of living in fear in the wake of the Creed attack... but Evelli was determined to have that peaceful life back.
While the rest of her family, immediate and extended alike were kept busy and on their toes because of the close proximity some or all of them came to the Creed during the horrific event, Evelli was determined that their life should go on. Her husband had his duties to ensure the safety of their family, as did most husbands, but for Evelli, she saw it her own personal duty to imbue as much normalcy into life - and with flowers, everything would seem much easier.
One would ask, how would simply blooms do much to make one feel better? Well, perhaps by themselves, they would not, but there was a reason why the nobility like their flower baths and scented oils. They provide a calming essence in the air, and Evelli was hoping that it would help while her family resided within the Vasiliadon.
However, with errands taking up a large part of her day, ensuring Olympia's health in the morning (as she was doing quite often ever since her third daughter was married), to visiting the temples (Evelli was not taking her chances again, especially not when her husband was ill), and then to ensuring the household was running like clockwork, it was late evening by the time the lady of the Leventi household found her way to the main area of the flower festival and market. The sun was dimming as her carriage rolled to a stop, and servants hurried to open the doors of her vehicle, but the heady scent of blooms still remained as she set both feet on the ground, and took a deep breathe.
"Illyia, please fetch a mass of windflowers, enough so that there would be a clutch of 7 in each of the girl's rooms." she instructed the maid standing next to her. The young brunette quickly curtsied, and ran off to do as her mistress instructed, the pouch of coins Evelli had passed to her whilst she spoke clutched in her hands. That done, and only then did Evelli started moving forward, smiling as merchants and vendors hailed her. While she may not be a permanent figure in Vasiliadon, her presence in recent months meant some knew her, if not all.
Stopping to linger at some of the few stalls still open, Evelli was quick to purchase some herbal remedies she thought would be beneficial to Olympia upon her birth, and some other herbal teas which would be calming to her daughters. Behind her trailed her retinue of two more maids and four guards flanking her, and while her stance was prideful and sure, Evelli did not wear a haughty look upon her beautiful visage despite her age showing. She may have been tiring easily in recent weeks ever since Georgios took to bed ill, but Evelli was intent in ensuring her household and family was cared for.
As the event wrapped up and people's conversations tapered to wither away for theri return home to their family, Evelli meandered to take in the last few vestiges of the festival as much as she could. When the time came for her to return, she would board the carriage again, with a few handfuls of anemone and ash to add to the blooms she intended to place in each of her girl's rooms, as well as the foyer and waiting rooms of the second Leventi manor, but as she wakled for now, Evelli was content to simply take in the sights and the sounds as they were. It was a rare time, to have the peace that seemed almost foreign after weeks of living in fear in the wake of the Creed attack... but Evelli was determined to have that peaceful life back.
