sticksandbones | [OPEN] gardening & sewing log for your domestic cottagecore needs

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[OPEN] gardening & sewing log for your domestic cottagecore needs

Who: Ain & You
What: Gardening + new tailor shop log
When: A day or two after everyone gets back from the Grove... people might be dying in the log under this we'll deal with it
Where: The Grove
Warnings: None, this is a peaceful and happy log-

I. - The Tailor Shop Prompt

[The Grove has a new shop when everyone returns from the beach. It's little, the outside sign woven with wooden motifs of leaves and carved text reading "NEEDLE & THREAD", and the windows having displays of mannequins in them, one of which has only fabric draped around its neck and the other which Ain is using to sew a dress. He's also wearing his own as he does this, ten different bobby pins in his hair to keep his bangs out of the way while he works.

Although he looks busy, shuffling about to get the display set up, he'll cheerfully greet people who come in and ask if they want anything done. He doesn't have anything premade yet because this place just opened, but he's happy to take requests — or sew something up, if you need it.]

II. - The Gardening Prompt

[After the tailor shop is fully set up, Ain can be seen walking around in short overalls with a ton of gardening supplies. Flower pots, seed packets, a toolbelt filled with gardening tools he got from Heimr... he has thirty-six packages of seeds, three each of any one type of plant, and he looks overjoyed digging in soil. He has become a Dirt Boy. Which is to say he has somehow gotten swipes of dirt on his face. If you want to help, or just stare at him, you can find Ain either:

a) futzing with flower pots and hanging planters that he's trying to get hung up on the awning of the tailor shop and on the other buildings, once things get planted; and he specifically tells you that the cacti need to be planted in large pots because they grow out too, not just up, and can you help him reach this and that or move this big heavy cactus flower pot over there?

b) digging holes into the actual ground, but not near the sunflowers so he doesn't harm them by accident, around the various buildings. Here is where he's planting lilies and frangipani and a bunch of other flowers, watering the spots the seeds are buried where they immediately spring to life thanks to him asking Moder to make them grow faster earlier. The Guardian herself is lingering in the distance supervising like a mom at the park.

c) Of course, if you didn't want to help with the process of planting things, you can find Ain a few hours later making flower crowns from the lantanas and lilies.]

[[ooc: if it's helpful to anyone wanting to garden, this is the full list of plants bought: cactus, aloe vera, lilies, frangipani, wisterias, fuchsias, begonias, hydrangeas, poppies, lantanas, calendulas, & gardenias. have fun planting plants :) ]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mmm... kind of, haha. A lot of flower meanings are more sentimental or romantic in nature. There are flowers you give to someone if someone close to them passes away, for example, or flowers for weddings, or to confess love. Things like that.

[Hums.]

You can even tell someone you hate them with them, too!

[wow that's great!]

[Hah...Wolfwood huffs, though it's hard to tell exactly if it was meant to be humorous or not.]

I'll hafta keep that in mind.

[He's not sure he'd ever do that, realistically. He's an asshole, but he's not a sneaky one. He'll tell you he hates you to your face, thanks.

As they sit there, Wolfwood folds his arms loosely over his knees, looking out at the field of flowers that Ain has planted. It really is beautiful to see them all, and it makes him feel weirdly nostalgic for something he's never actually had. Like...some part of him knows this is what Noman's could be, if humans were just willing to try.

But he's the pessimist here. It's harder for him to believe it could happen, even though he really wishes he could.]

...do they make you happy?

They do! I love flowers and plants and taking care of them. It... sort of fills a void, for me, when I can't actually take care of humans. You guys are all fine right now. [MIZUKI'S DEATH LOOMS] I like taking care of things in general, but...

I dunno. Flowers are also just special to me, like songs are. If songs are memories of journeys for me, then flowers are friends I've made along the way. I really do love them. And different ones grow in different areas, so there's always a new one to find.

[He finishes the hydrangea crown and weaves the stems together with a blue ribbon, and then slaps this one on top of his own head.]

There. Now I'm wearing your favourite flowers!

[Wow, gee, who else does he know that loves taking care of humans?

Wolfwood is learning a lot about Ain. He's starting to learn things about him that have fleshed him out to be more three-dimensional. Even knowing him as an angel, it doesn't leave him feeling like he's some kind of...untouchable, otherworldy being. For someone who has only been around humans for a short time, he feels very human. And he can tell that love and care is genuine. It shows in the way he speaks, and the love he shows for his flowers.

He looks at Ain as he places that flower crown on his head, and out of nowhere he feels his throat close. He's not entirely sure where the fuck that came from, but something about Ain chirping happily that he's wearing his favorites...fuck, he doesn't know.

His lip actually trembles, and he has to quickly look away because of it. He ducks his head forward, his hand reaching reflexively into his blazer pocket, only to pull the empty cigarette carton back out. Right. He came back into the Grove because he smoked through them all, again.]

Tch...

[Ain is just bein' a lil silly, but that reaction isn't quite what he expected. He expected Wolfwood to cuff him or steal the flowers or be like "they're not my favourite" even though he literally just said they were, or say any number of things, but he does not. He doesn't do those things, and it leaves Ain with his, again, limited understanding of humans floundering.

Why? Why is he reacting like that?]

Mr. Priest...? [Leaning into Wolfwood's space just a little to try to see his face.] Oh, haha, you probably wanted these instead, huh?

[Fuck. As Ain turns to try and look at him, Wolfwood reaches a hand up to quickly scrub at his eyes with the heel of his hand, pushing his shades halfway up his face in doing so. It's mostly to prevent the tears that had welled up from falling, quickly wicking them away before Ain can see. But the damage is done, it's easy to tell he's gotten all choked up about something if you have eyes.]

No, it ain't...s'not you. Just had a bad week. Sorry.

Oh.

[Sits back down properly... bumps their shoulders together. At least Wolfwood is starting to smell a bit more like flowers instead of cigarettes.]

Do you wanna talk about it?

[He knows Ain volunteered to talk on his own. It's not like he forced it out of him, or anything. But still...he feels so shitty. All of these ugly feelings bunched up in his chest are making it hard for him to do much of anything, especially now that he's pulled himself out of that numb resignation from the night it all went down.]

I hate t'keep botherin' you with my dumb bullshit, though.

It's not dumb bullshit! If it was, I'd tell you.

[th...thanks?]

Ms. Harnier back home told me I have to get good at talking about mine, and she'd probably say the same thing to you. I don't mind listening, really.

[Wolfwood hisses in a breath. Exhales it, slowly.

He can't believe Ain, of all people, is the one he's opening up to about this, other than Livio of course who hardly counts since he's the other half of the equation. He's not sure anyone else even knows this particular, unless Vash has been going around talking about it too.]

Me n' Vash. We ain't...talkin' right now.

[It did not, in fact, go well.]

[...ah. Bro what the hell happened, he said GOOD ENDING he didn't say BAD ENDING.]

...that doesn't... mean what I think it does, does it...?

[You know, that they broke up.]

...I'm sorry, Mr. Priest.

[Haha no sorry Ain...it means exactly what you think it does. Wolfwood just sort of hangs his head again as an answer to that, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth.]

I got...a lotta shit t'think about. And I needed...a break.

It's okay to take breaks and think. Remember what I said on the beach? You have to do what's best for you. If your line in the sand conflicts, then it's best to step back anyway. I...

[Hm. He doesn't want to talk about it, so using anecdote won't work here, so:]

...I know how it feels. I think, anyway. I'm sorry that that's what had to happen, but in some ways, it's better than being bothered by that boundary being crossed, isn't it?

[While Ain talks, Wolfwood does something that might seem a little surprising. Maybe a little out of character, even. But it's just them both, and he's not sure how much he cares right now.

He drops his head against Ain's shoulder. He says nothing, he just lays it there heavily, still fighting back tears that are harder and harder to keep at bay even as Ain reassures him that he's doing the right thing. That it's okay.]

...yeah. You're right.

Just wish it didn't feel so shitty.

Relationships are really hard. I... ...yeah, they're just hard. I don't really know what else to say there, ha...

[He's, uh, bad at this. Like sometimes he says something really profound and then the next thing out of his mouth is the equivalent of "Italian sausage is great with ketchup :)". Sorry.

Still, he lets Wolfwood lean on him, feeling the tickle of the flower petals from the crown against his jaw. Ain affectionately headbonks him, like a cat.]

But if they're perfect, then is there anything to look forward to in the future? Everyone has rough patches. It keeps life interesting.

[It's okay, Ain. He doesn't even expect you to give him some kind of profound speech. Just being here is enough. Being a presence he can lean on...that's more than he has had most of his entire life.

And so they lean against one another, surrounded by what feels like miles of endless beauty, all while Wolfwood still feels pretty ugly inside. He rumbles softly under his breath, not much unlike some kind of animal himself, his fingers toying with the cigarette carton again.]

Interestin', huh...like gettin' sucked into another dimension, you mean?

Sure, but I've done that before. Multiple times!

[So y'know he's used to it. It just sucks that the others aren't here. Although by now Ciel would've stress baked away all the cooking supplies, Elsword would've rizzed up the half of the Grove that Ain has missed so far, and Elesis would've started putting people in headlocks. So maybe it's good they're not here.

Or maybe it's not because that feral group of assholes would've solved every problem by now.]

I guess it's new for you. But like I told you, I spent five hundred years in Henir, and I'm really glad I'm around people now. I don't like being alone like that.

Pretty damn new.

[But if he were to be totally, completely honest with himself, he actually has it better, here in the Grove. Back home, life is uncertain. It's far more uncertain there than it is here. He's a puppet on strings that can't be cut, and knowing he has no real future beyond that makes everything feel bleak. He's already accepted the fact he'll die young, someday, but being in the Grove has made a proper future feel more attainable than ever.

It's unfair.

Wolfwood sighs deeply, sitting back a little more. His shoulders are still tense, but maybe he's not quite as stiff backed as he once was. Maybe.]

Can't imagine what that's gotta be like. Bein' around for so long. I've barely been here for...

[...he trails off.]

[Bonk bonk bonk.]

Well, I'm only five hundred and five. [Only.] Most of my time spent in Henir was... it didn't feel like that much time had passed. That's how time is in the void, it gets messed up and warped. I was made with the express purpose of throwing myself into the El and dying to stabilize it, and then I got trapped in the void rift that opened when it exploded. Five hundred years passed, and the world was different, and it took me a long time to realise it had been that long.

And then I met Elsword, and the rest of our friends over five years. My entire demeanour changed. I got emotions, which I wasn't supposed to have, and free will, which I definitely wasn't supposed to have. Ishmael and the other angels told me I didn't deserve my name, and that I'd failed my mission, and that I should have died to fix a problem that Elsword fixed. I guess I wouldn't have cared if I was dead five hundred years ago, sure, but I care now.

...sorry. This isn't about me. This is supposed to be about you, I don't know why I'm ranting.

[Cause the vibes are bad and this is the road his anxious mind went down, definitely.]

[On contrare, Ain. Talking about you means less talking about Wolfwood, which he's super down for right now. Though, uh...yeah. He can understand why Ain wouldn't want to go into lengthy detail about this in particular.

Wolfwood looks sidelong at Ain, more than a little shocked that such an energetic, optimistic guy could have gone through that kind of hell. It's definitely leading him to realize Ain has 1) just not been having an Emotion for so long because he didn't know what those were and 2) has probably gotten terribly good at masking it, on top of that.

He clicks his tongue, shifting his legs so they're stretched out ahead of him, real next to prosthetic.]

Nah. S'ok.

[I mean, it isn't, but. You know.]

...you were trapped. I know how that feels.

That's not even the worst bit of it. It used to be that Ishmael made it so that if I left an area, I'd be forgotten about. If I deconstruct... sorry, I guess that's sort of like death for you humans, but I lose my physical form and become a ball of light— they always forgot about me. My friends. They'd remember if I came back, but... if I were to permanently die? They'd never remember.

I don't know, Mr. Priest. I'm always worried about that sort of thing now. Even if my existence is maintained through Elria now, the other Goddess, solely because Ishmael gave up on me, and that memory thing stopped... I don't know. I don't know! I think I'll probably just go lay facedown in the river if anyone here didn't remember me.

[He's being dramatic. Probably. Hopefully. There's an upset squeak and then he slouches more into Wolfwood.]

Sorry that you were trapped once, too. You wanna talk about it?

[...what kind of god just deems their creations- angels, in this case, which is literally what Ain is- to just...die, essentially, once they've left someplace? It seems unnecessarily cruel, and immediately paints a pretty poor picture of Ishmael for Wolfwood in his mind. And this is the guy who is arguably some flavor of post-apocalyptic Catholic. It's hard to even imagine Ain dying at all, in this case.

He looks ahead between them, letting Ain settle in closer against him. He's finding he doesn't mind the closeness at all.]

No...I'd be worried too. I dunno how that sort of thing might...work for you, in a place like this, but. It'd be pretty hard to forget a guy like you.

[He sort of gently nudges into Ain as he says that. He's not sure how much it helps, but hey.]

And, maybe try to not go around dyin' on us. Just a thought.

[...]

I... [He hesitates. Just for a moment.] I can. But it ain't really a nice story, at all.

I'm better at it nowadays. [But buddy 3 years ago he was dead every chapter.] It's okay. It's just a lingering fear of mine. I appreciate you saying something, Wolfwood.

[...anyway we're gonna breeze past that name drop real quick.]

I don't know many nice stories these days anyway. What's more venting between two guys sitting in a flower field, huh?

[Wolfwood notices that. Oh, he notices it because it's so weird hearing him say his name and not "Mr. Priest" instead that his breath actually catches.

It's there, then it's gone. But he will remember.]

Guess you got a point.

[He sighs again, looking up at the sky, now.]

I was an orphan, livin' at an orphanage called Hopeland. It was my home for as long as I could remember. It was...an orphanage, so basically exactly what you'd expect. The only constant was that sometimes, one of us kids would be "chosen" to leave. It was treated as an honor, real special...I'm pretty sure the other kids thought it meant they were going to a real home. But I never believed it, even if I didn't know exactly what else it could mean. It felt too...weird.

Eventually...came my turn to be chosen. Everyone saw me off as I left with people I didn't recognize, and I was just a kid. I didn't understand, I didn't know what was gonna happen from there.

Turns out, our orphanage only existed to pump out unwitting test subjects for a cult. They needed bodies to experiment on, trying to create a human who could survive basically anythin'. Like...a livin' robot, or somethin'. The lead doctor claimed he was doing it for a good cause, to try to secure a future for a dying world. And for us to survive a world that was dying, we needed to evolve to adapt to it.

[He falls silent for a moment, gaze distant as he's brought right back.]

I don't remember much about it anymore, other than the moments I was awake. One moment, I was a kid, and the next...I was me. Five or six years of it. I was deemed a failure 'cause I needed serums to heal my injuries, I couldn't just regenerate by myself. I might as well just be a normal person otherwise.

[Well, "normal" is disregarding his military training and higher ability for resisting pain and shit, but that's implied by the giant fuck-off gun he carries around.]

Now I work for 'em. If I don't ask how high when they say to jump, they'll take another kid and the cycle will continue. And I'd sooner be their bitch for the rest of time than allow it.

[...ah. Okay. Ain was expecting things to be bad, of course, but not that bad. He's not sure how to feel, at first, a bunch of nebulous and unidentifiable emotions blooming in his chest. He looks to the flowers like they'll give him answers, like the calendulas will tell him exactly what he should say.

This is why he hated humans for so long. They're cruel, they're unjust, they think only of themselves. They only take, and take, and take, both from the world and from each other. Had Elsword not showed him love, had he not seen humans try and struggle and just want to live, had he not seen them signing songs of hope along the bonfire and trying to fix the world they broke, the sentiment he decides to express to Wolfwood would be much different. He knows better know. He knows that humans are full of good things.

Sometimes. Sometimes, they're just as cruel as he remembers them being... but that's why he's here. He's here to protect them. To love them when they won't love themselves. So he sits up properly and spins around, wrapping Wolfwood in a tight, warm embrace. He's still covered in dirt and leaves and flower petals, and their crowns crinkle as he pushes his cheek into the side of Wolfwood's neck, but hopefully Wolfwood doesn't mind too much.]

I'm sorry. I'm sorry they were so cruel to you. You were only a child. [And technically, he still should be. He should be around Laby's age, or Noah's at most. He shouldn't be around Raven's. It's unfair.] You never deserved it.

[It reminds him of Noah, who was put under the same circumstances — experimented on, tortured, and then sealed into stasis for five hundred years. It reminds him of Add, who was enslaved as a child and narrowly escaped, the scar on his neck a permanent reminder of everything he'd gone through. It reminds him of Master Rosso, of Clamor, of Raven, similar experiments...

It's always some cult doing some cruel thing to a little kid every single time.]

You're safe here. You're safe with me, and you're safe with everyone else, too. They can't get you here. I won't let them.

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cw for a magical suicide mention sorry elrians are like this

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cw: human/child experimentation

the cws continue: more human experimentation, child slavery mentions