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The sigh that escaped her came from the very depths of her soul. She usually made her own tea at home and thus did not typically rely on the café, but when she had left her room where she had been flipping through magazines, enjoying a lazy early day, she had had to realise---to her shock and great dismay---that she had run out of her usual before-noon blend. It was a blend the café also sold so she had figured that she could just grab a cup there on her way to the tea store, but alas---fate had seen it fit to foil her tea acquisition plans twice in a row. And that, more than anything else, was the cause of her rather dramatic sigh.

"You know," she said as she rubbed the side of her face. "I think I'll give up on my previous order. Could I trouble you for a tea latte?"

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🕯 ❚❙❘ ❝ I would not drink that if I were you. ❞ She had seen a floating totem drop something in it a moment ago. Definitely a prank and probably harmless, yet a warning was still given. ❝ I'll just make you a new one. Sit tight. ❞ 

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it's time for me to once more remind you all of my conspiracy theory---mest is makarov's son

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She could not quite help it, a little chuckle escaped her as Gray's MCL attempted to flee the scene. His bad luck with the devices was a little amusing, sure, but to see it unfold in real time was almost concerning. A tiny part of her hoped that he would never find himself in a situation where he needed his MCL to work because clearly, it was not exactly cooperative. Quite the opposite, really. It was almost worth wondering if he was greasing it, given how it had almost slipped from his hands.

"Perhaps you should have it checked for possession," she mused aloud as she took another sip of her drink. "That just now looked like an MCL having a mind of its own and I am pretty sure they aren't supposed to do that."

Her own MCL had been almost suspiciously quiet in spite of the message she had sent, now that she thought about it. On one hand, it was good---it meant that no one had had the idea that she was in desperate need of a rescue mission. (That would be mortifying and she would have to consider fleeing the country.) One the other hand---Carena did not trust the silence one bit. It could too easily harbour something unpleasant.

Like an interrogation.

(She was being dramatic and she knew it.)

Still---there had been times in more recent . . . months where she had had a hard time shaking the suspicion that Freed was . . . thinking his Freed thoughts, waiting for a good opportunity to swoop in and ask questions. And she would stress a lot less about this if she had any idea what those Freed thoughts were that he was thinking. But she did not. And that was almost enough to drive her insane.

Clearing her throat and wishing her mind could be cleared just as easily, she nodded as Gray outlined her options. If she was perfectly honest, none of them sounded too exciting, but alas---she was not Mest-Doranbolt-Mest-whatever-the-hell-his-name-was. She could not teleport herself. And really, she knew that the fact that she could fly was an advantage. She would not call it a privilege, not when she had worked hard to obtain and then master this skill.

" . . . flying might be the fastest and the easiest," she said, splayed fingers gently hovering over her injury. The pain was dulled by the medicine she had been taking, but she knew that it would be back before long. "As long as I don't encounter any trouble, I can just . . . float, really. I wouldn't be jostled, I won't run the risk of slipping on ice or snow."

The question if she would have sufficient energy to fly all the way was one she did not want to entertain. Not having enough energy was not really an option, not with the approaching storm, so even if things would get rough, she would simply have to grit her teeth and power through. It would not be the first time, not by far. Especially since she did not have any real alternatives, right? It was not like she could intrude on Gray any longer than she already had. It was important to be mindful---and Gray must have had his reasons to retreat to the mountains. He deserved the peace and quiet they offered, without her interruptions.

Biting her lip as she pondered the different paths he was suggesting, she found herself staring off into empty space for a moment before she snapped out of it. "The path without monsters sounds very agreeable," she said, her gaze lingering on the backdoor for a bit before returning to Gray. "It'd keep me . . . unjostled, ideally. I could try to fly above the trees until the storm kicks up, too, maybe use some of the winds to propel me forward."

It had all been done before, this was a mere matter of picking the most convenient and safest approach to this current situation.

It was, perhaps, somewhere between tragic and fortunate that he had no way of knowing just how close Evergreen had been to making the cute face he’d been thinking about moments prior. The only hint to the close call was possibly in her tone as she responded to him, but he didn’t think too much about that.  

He did, however, flash a grin back at his guest in reaction to her comment, even as he was temporarily distracted by his dog. His own reply danced in the back of his mind and threatened to jump from the tip of his tongue, yet he held it back, squashing it down to the strange, unknown depths it had sprung from. He wasn’t about to let such thoughts see the light of day again, nor was he going to examine them too closely. No, instead he would follow her request to not answer her on the topic.

He refocused on Muddy once the dog had finished eating, crouching down to ruffle her fur as he contemplated Evergreen’s questions. Knowing the storm that was coming, and the potential interrogation she’d have to face from her friends, he understood, and in fact appreciated, her preference to make the most efficient trip back to her home. Despite the logic and how he’d likely make the same choice in her shoes, he was aware of a strange twinge in his chest at the realisation she’d have to be on her way soon. He frowned at the sensation and forced himself to ignore it, pushing his thoughts towards visualising the land and paths in the area.

“Yeah, Fireweed is almost directly on the other side of the mountain,” he said. Returning to full height and leaning back against the kitchen counter, he folded his arms across his chest and added, “Probably more northeast of here.”

The question of his MCL’s state brought forth a smidgen of defensiveness to tug on his lower lip as he frowned briefly (read: pouted like a sulky child). Still, it was a fair question, he didn’t have the best track record with the damn things after all.

Rubbing the back of his neck a little sheepishly, he grumbled with a sigh, “Yeah, yeah, it’s intact…”

It occurred to him then that he hadn’t even looked at the device since at least sometime the previous morning. Maybe he should check on it. Decision made, he pushed off from the counter and moved past Evergreen to where his MCL sat on the far corner of the coffee table. He plucked it up and moved back towards her, holding it up for her viewing.

“See? Intact,” he stated, perhaps a little too confidently, even waving the device a little to make a point.

Which was, of course, the moment he lost his grip on the MCL, and it slipped from his fingers like a fish. “Oh shit.” His quick reflexes had him reaching for the thing as it tumbled midair, but his fingers bumped it and it only gained new height to fall from. Just in time, he clapped both hands around it and prevented its headlong rush to the hardwood floor. He let out a sigh of relief and straightened up, almost wincing as he stole a glance at Evergreen.

Clearing his throat, he turned his attention to his MCL in the hopes of ignoring his momentary clumsiness. With great focus, he unlocked the device and checked for notifications, unsure how he truly felt about the fact there was only one (1) message (and it was from Lisanna, and he didn’t open it as it was no doubt another picture of a highly accessorised snowman she’d made, with the caption ‘it’s you’).

He shook his head slightly and slid the MCL into his pocket. Ruffling his hair with one hand, he ventured back to thoughts of Evergreen’s upcoming journey.

“Uh…anyway…You could do a short flight from out the back here,” he said, gesturing vaguely towards the backdoor. “And go over the ridge on the right, then down into the forest. There’s a path through it that you can take if you don’t have the energy for flying. Being under the trees will keep some of the bad weather off you for a while too. But it’s a pretty dense area and not the clearest trail, so you’ll have to watch your step. No monsters in there though, so that’s something.”

Not by coincidence, the monsters of the area had disappeared not long after he’d set up residence in the cabin. It was partly due to his own efforts to get rid of them, yet he knew deep down that there were many that had fled from his ‘territory’ once they sensed the darkness he held within his magic and corroded soul. He’d decided not to question the specifics or get caught up on the meaning of it, gone was gone after all.

He gave a small shrug, mind back on other possible paths around for Evergreen. There were a few options she could take.

“If you wanted to avoid flying altogether, there are supply wagons that travel between the two villages every day. I’m sure they’d let you hitch a ride with them, but it would take longer. The road goes a fair way out to avoid the mountain ridges and forest before heading to Fireweed, it stretches out the travel time but means a smoother and generally safer trip. Or, if you could manage it, you could probably fly over the ridge and forest and then find the road and follow it on foot to the village. Or try flying direct there, just follow the curve of the mountain. Depends how you’re feeling.”

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Usually---and she suspected that it came with the territory of being friends with Laxus---Carena liked storms. However, usually she was watching storms from the safety of her warm home. She already liked them a lot less when they got in the way of her work. Now that a storm was brewing while she was injured and had places to be, she could not claim to be a fan. It was gnawing on her, the knowledge that this storm was not on her side. And warm clothing would only mitigate the unpleasantness that awaited her, it would not be able to fully protect her from it.

But while she was hardly looking forward to the journey home (because it would be a rough one), she was looking forward to the comforts awaiting her at home---a nice bubble bath might be out of the question unless Porlyusica just made the wound go away, but a recent shopping spree had ended with a comfortable set of cosy lounge wear. A part of her shuddered---apparently, adulthood meant getting excited about the promise of slipping into comfortable clothing and being tucked under warm blankets with a good book. Maybe, she pondered, maybe she would leverage her injury and ask to borrow some of Laxus' more relaxing records . . . and the record player that was usually in the dining room.

Lost in thoughts of whether or not she would have to play up the pain she was in (probably not, her side was aching quite a bit) to convince her dearest friends and roommates to nurse her back to health, she missed the sound of Gray's returning footsteps, just like she missed the return of his very adorable dog. Consequently, she almost flinched when the winter gear was draped over her. Ah. The omnipresent pompoms revealed the scarf to be Lisanna Couture---unless Gray knew someone else who would gift him a handcrafted scarf---and Carena could not help but smile a little bit. It was a bit of a reminder, she needed to actually post the package she had assembled for Lisanna a while ago.

Flicking a strand of her hair over her scarf-covered shoulder, she turned her head to glance at Gray for a moment, feeling almost tempted to pout a little at him before suppressing that weird impulse. "Really makes me wonder what kind of oversized bug you think I am," she mused as he drifted away, not unlike a snowflake in a breeze, to feed Muddy. "Actually---don't answer that. My pride is as bruised as my side."

Eating another few spoons of her breakfast, she pondered his offer. It would be the responsible thing to accept it, she knew that much. Flying long distances while either in pain or right after taking pain killers are not exactly a wise decision due to the risk of getting disoriented, but getting caught in a storm was even unwiser. She was not overly concerned over letting her quest givers know that the situation had been handled---she was not strapped for cash---but she really needed to get back to Magnolia. She could not risk getting stuck in the mountains, especially not due to a storm as storms were notoriously unpredictable.

Tugging on the pompomed end of the scarf, she sighed. "Actually," she started as her feet tapped against the floor. "Is Winterweed directly opposite my destination, geographically? I'd like to be in the air for the shortest time possible so I'd appreciate it a lot if you could show me the best spot from where to start my flight. I probably also should, I don't know, let you know what my estimated time of arrival in Fireweed would be. Just in case that I end up crashing. Hasn't happened yet, but there's always a first time for inconvenient things to happen. I forgot if I already asked, but is your MCL currently intact?"

A slight frown persisted on his face as he continued to stare out the window, his mind on the approaching weather. His expression melted away into a slight smile as he observed Muddy rolling around in the snow. Although the dog would come back in cold and damp (which was never fun to deal with), it was certainly better than when she would come in covered in her namesake.

He turned his attention back to his guest, dipping his head in acknowledgement as she accepted his offer of warmer clothes. A measure of relief eased his shoulders, knowing that she was wise enough to see the necessity and not foolishly deny it. He’d known people (and yes…sometimes ‘people’ had in fact been simply himself), that had stubbornly insisted that they would be fine without the extra layers, too confident in themselves and in their estimation of their travel. It didn’t tend to end well.

Still, was it any surprise that Evergreen was sensible enough to take the help? Of course not. She was certainly better at it than he was, and he could appreciate that it might be hard for her in any case. He knew that if the situation was reversed and he had (somehow) accepted help, his pride would be grating on him. The last thing he would want would be for someone to make a big deal out of his situation or make excuses for him. With that in mind, he said nothing else on the matter and instead simply took a large draught of his smoothie before setting down the glass on the countertop.

“I’ll get you some warm stuff now,” he said, beginning to move past Evergreen, deciding he might as well do the task in the moment.

As he headed into his bedroom, it occurred to him that there was a chance his guest might think he was eager to get her on her way. Following that thought, it also occurred to him that he was in fact, not eager to send her on her way. It was…strange to consider, that he found himself reluctant for her to leave when he was normally quite content on his own, but it really shouldn’t be strange. She was, after all, easy to be around and they were…friends? Yeah, friends.

He pushed the thoughts from his mind and set his attention on the chest of drawers in his room. Giving thought to his prediction of the weather, chilled air and a chance of snow later, he decided a hoodie would be a nice, cozy option for her. He would grab a spare coat for her later too, when it was time for her to leave.

Opening the largest drawer, he surveyed the options for a moment, then pulled out one of his favourite hoodies. Dark brown, soft, subtly lined with fleece for extra warmth, the item would no doubt swamp Evergreen’s figure, but that was precisely why he chose it (and perhaps also because the colour would complement her better than some of the other options).

He plucked it from its haphazard place with its confines, then draped it over his arm as he closed the drawer and opened a different one. With remarkably less consideration than his previous choice, he withdrew a set of sky blue, knitted winterwear – a scarf, gloves, and beanie.

This set, like the four others of varying colours within the drawer, had been knitted and gifted to him by Lisanna. She’d gotten rather into the hobby lately and had insisted on forcing generously sharing her creations with him. He recalled she’d been quite pleased with this particular set, as she’d implemented a white cloud pattern and had also gotten the hang of making pompoms (the ends of the scarf and top of the beanie bore evidence of her newfound love for the decorative element). He was sure Lisanna wouldn’t mind him lending the items to someone in need, especially to one of her own friends.

Goods in hand, he exited the room to return to Evergreen. Since she was occupied with her breakfast, he gently tossed the hoodie and gloves to rest over the back of the nearby armchair for when she was ready for them. Seeing her with her bowl of cereal, and thinking back to her comment of not having to climb on the counter to get it, he wondered if her roommates did put the cereal boxes out of her reach on purpose, just to get a reaction from her.

The image of her chipmunk cheek pout came to mind, and he had a feeling that if that was the face she’d make at such an act, he could see why her friends would be tempted to provoke it. Ever since he’d seen it himself, some time ago now, the expression occasionally popped into his mind and made him wonder how to bring it about again. The urge to do something to tease a reaction from her tickled the back of his mind like the whisper of a little devil on his shoulder. It had been a long while since he’d last felt such a thing, and in fact, he’d almost forgotten what it was like to feel it at all. In truth (although it was little known), once he was comfortable with a person and sure of their reactions, he was the type to delight in being a nuisance to them from time to time.

Mentally shaking himself, he stepped through the kitchen to open the back door and allow Muddy her re-entry, closing it again once she scampered through. The icy touch of the breeze slipped inside and once more made him aware that his guest was likely cold, even with the door firmly shut again. Driven by an impulse he didn’t want to look to closely at, he moved closer to Evergreen and draped the scarf he still held around her shoulders. Then, he unfolded the beanie and settled it on her head, gently tugging it into place.

A smile flashed briefly across his face at the way the floppy pointed end of the hat draped down over her forehead. He readjusted it to hang at the back and then gave a small but mischievous flick to the pompom.

“There,” he said, “snug as a little bug now.” His gaze, warmed with amusement, referenced her tshirt with a quick glance before he shifted away and got busy setting out food for his eager canine.

While Muddy happily dug into her morning meal, Gray straightened up and considered what Evergreen had said about her flying back to the village. It made sense for her to try travel as quickly as she could, not just to try fast forward Freed’s inevitable questioning, but to get ahead of any bad weather. He sighed, not envying her journey or return home.

Even knowing she could likely fly from his house and not need to pass along the roads to find the way, skipping Winterweed, and head directly to its sister village where her reward awaited her, he found himself offering, “Muddy and I can walk with you back to the Winterweed if you want.”

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1927 Dress, slip and cape which belonged to Marjorie Merriweather Post. The dress is of sheer green silk chiffon with narrow shoulder straps and a flared skirt. Decorative mistletoe motifs of bugle beads, clear stones and pearls adorn the neckline, left hip and skirt. The skirt is comprised of twelve triangular shaped panels decoratively stitched in a “lettuce leaf” design with a scalloped lower edge. Mrs. Post wore this to her daughter Eleanor’s debut dance at the Ritz Carlton. From Art Deco, Art Nouveau and 20th Century Decoratif Arts Group.

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Emerald Apparition (2021) oil pastel on paper

shop: suhaylah.bigcartel.com ig: @suhaylah.h

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everyone say thank you to Momo (@resolvebound) for giving me the opportunity to answer these questions about Love Day~ by asking them ♥

what does your muse think about the day? Are they favourable to it? Neutral? Anti?: most people would likely expect that Carena turns her nose up at this holiday, typically assuming that she is too not-like-other-girls or too focused on her career as a mage to indulge in a holiday that cutesy and frilly. They are quite wrong. While Carena certainly does have some opinions on the overpriced seasonal products that are being sold everywhere and dislikes those to a point where she likes to joke that giving her a full-priced Love Day chocolate box is a breakup-worthy offence, she does like to give some gifts to those closest to her in the spirit of the holiday.

if favourable, what would they do for their loved one? What would they hope for themselves?: those close to her heart in a platonic or familial way can expect a handwritten note with a small token of appreciation. Typically the kind of treat that is more of a sometimes thing, like an expensive bar of chocolate or a collector's edition of a book, simply the kind of thing many would hesitate to buy for themselves but that make great gifts. To a lover, she'd offer a thoughtful gift that typically reflects their interests or something they mentioned. Personal favourites include tickets to museums or guided tours as well as vouchers and giftcards for restaurants.

have they had any memorable experiences with it? Good or bad?: for the most part, the day itself has been widely normal---and she means this in the best way possible. She does not think that things should be overly thrilling and exciting all the time, she sometimes just wants a nice and relaxed version of a holiday. That said, she was one broken up with the day before Love Day and that really messed with her for a bit.

has their family or childhood impacted their view of it?: Carena's parents were very much in love and consequently, the holiday was a big deal for them. She has fond memories of watching her parents trying to figure out hiding places for gifts and the way they often struggled to keep things a surprise until the day itself.

would anything cause their view or feelings to change?: in all likelihood, no. Carena is at a point in her life where plenty of her views are pretty firm and while she takes new information into account, she would not easily let anything or anyone ruin a holiday that she has enjoyed for pretty much her entire life, especially given that she has fond memories of her parents that are connected to the holiday. It would take a lot to spoil the fun for her.

how do they typically spend the day? Any special plans?: when she is single, she typically ends up taking herself out on a date. As long as her schedule permits, she sleeps in before going to a nice café to have a very opulent breakfast there. Unless she is invited to join someone else's activities, she tends to take the rest of the day one hour at a time, often ending up indulging in extensive self-care. If she thinks of it ahead of time, she books a nice massage in the afternoon before heading home to see what kind of food she can order. It's usually sushi, but she always checks all the menus, just to see if there is something that can 'lead her astray'. There never is. When she is dating someone, her plans for the day end up influenced by her partner. It is a day for two, after all, and Carena is happy to come up with a plan that makes everyone happy. The one thing that she could never get into are candlelight dinners.

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so what if i want to write cute things?

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hwisnails

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Sorry, Max Lancaster

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*slurps some coffee* hello there

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👐 for Gray

[ 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 ] - 𝑛𝑜 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔

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Ordinarily, Gray could be relied upon to be quick to spot anything in short order, his skill for observation and swift reactions often lent itself well to such a task. Whether it be a threat or simply a detail out of place, there was not much that escaped him. Usually, anyway.

In this moment, however, it seemed his sharp gaze was unusually dull. Fruitlessly, he cast his eyes about the dense forest, straining to find his target among the filtered lights and shadows. Even stretching out with his other senses, it seemed his typical skill was as elusive as that which he now sought.

He frowned at his companion even as he continued to search for what she had indicated she’d seen moments ago. “Where...?”

They stood close to each other among the thick trees, hardly daring to take up much space at all, lest they spook the rare, magical bird they had come in search of.

“There,” Evergreen said, in hardly more than a whisper, giving a slight nod to an area to her right, as to not startle the creature.

As Gray passed his gaze from her over to where she’d gestured, a flutter of movement signalled he was too late. Again. He trapped a frustrated sigh in his chest, brows furrowing and tension climbing like a vine over his body. What was wrong with him? Why was he having so much difficulty today? It was maddening.

A faint breeze brushed across him, a shadow accompanying it, and distantly he noted there was no air movement in the forest beforehand. The damn bird had moved yet again. And still, Gray’s ceaseless eyes could not seem to find it, even when he turned towards where he was sure it had relocated.

At his side, Evergreen stilled, almost as if she had become one of her own statues. Incrementally at first, she raised her hands. He blinked at the motion, eyes finding her as her hands settled lightly on his face.

As if she had reached into the cold depths of his chest and brushed aside the layer of frost keeping it still, his heart began a quickened beat. His tension of moments prior tightened ever so briefly before melting away like ice in the sunlight. Awareness of their proximity to one another jolted to the forefront of his mind, sharpening his focus to her alone and the contact she maintained with him.

His mind turned hazy, a static buzzing dully in the back of his mind, stealing his thoughts. He would later reason the strange reactions he had was simply due to the fact it was unusual for him to be touched, especially with...deliberateness, and particularly by Evergreen. (Didn’t that, in fact, make it normal then? Perfectly reasonable, he would decide.)

Her touch was light, barely there, almost as if she was handling something delicate or was wary of overstepping and making him uncomfortable. He typically didn’t like having his personal space encroached upon, and certainly not with physical touch, yet he found himself wishing she would press her hands more firmly to his skin. It was too faint as it was, a whisper of warmth, one that stirred a desire to have more, to be closer, that he might better soak up the sensation.

But what was she doing? He forced himself to think. She was someone who always had a good reason for everything, yet, this seemed strange (but not unpleasant, far from it).

His gaze skimmed her face for answers, observing the way the lighting around them brought out the colour of her eyes. His focus slipped briefly to her lips (just in case she would whisper, of course, so he wouldn't miss it, no other reason, no), but then returned to her eyes once again, and noted they had shifted to peer into a space off to the side.

With gentle yet persistent pressure, she turned his head. Reluctantly, he redirected his attention and allowed her guidance.

Immediately, his eyes set upon the most beautiful bird. The size of a dove, with dappled feathers capable of mirroring the colour palette of its surroundings and a pearlescent curved beak, it perched, preening upon an eye-level branch.

Eyes alight, and smile slowly spreading, Gray took in the sight before him. Hours of searching had finally found them success. He risked glancing back to Evergreen in excitement, but dared not speak.

But, of course, they still had a problem. How were they to get a feather from the bird?

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wiggles in here after literal months of absence because hello hi, dnd and other hobbies ate my time and my birthday passed and i got on new meds, but i will always crawl back eventually to say semi controversial things. i won't say anything controversial today, i am trying to have a relaxing evening with a nice cup of mulled wine, but ... you know me. it'll happen

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Paul Stankard: Cactus Flower paperweight (1985)