♞ IV. written & action.

[holyknights]

[There's a little note left over the journals today. It's directed toward his housemates, but not filtered, because Elliot Nightray doesn't give a damn about filters.]

I had some flowers planted behind the house. Get used to it.

[He doesn't expect there to be any problems, but it was a hell of a lot better than telling them personally.

Alas, Elliot's business with flowers today isn't finished yet. Because his servant has severe anger issues, there is a vase that must be replaced. It'll most likely end up broken again, but today is something of a special occasion, so Elliot will go out of his way to visit the stores and find a vase, and then some flowers to put in it.

Despite being as independent as he is, though, this isn't something he normally does. He's a Nightray, dammit. That's probably why Elliot will do his best to avoid socializing as much as he can. ...more than he already does.]

Comments

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

Good, because I sure as hell don't feel like doing all this again.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

Not even the flowers?

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

Next time, you get the flowers yourself!

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

But what if I can't tell which one looks best?

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

Then stop hiding and look at them.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[And he falls silent at this. You know that's a no-go, Elliot.]

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

[It's okay, your eyes are broken anyway.]

You would know how pretty they were then.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[Excuse me, what. He snorts.]

They're not pretty.

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

[What's with that attitude suddenly?]

If I tell you to find flowers, I expect you to find the ones that look best. No question!

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[And what is with that sudden annoyed expression?]

What does that have to do with anything?

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

We're talking about the flowers, aren't we?!

[Because, you know. He was.]

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[Oh. Oh. He frowns.] Never mind.

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

[Like he would make a comment about your beautiful eyes in public, gosh.

Well, whatever. That's not the important part.]

Hurry it up. I have something to give you.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[what]

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

...here?

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

The sooner we get back to the house, the sooner I can give it to you.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

Why does it have to be back at the house? [But he walks a little faster, just in case. He has an idea why— and frankly, he hasn't said anything about it because he frankly sees no reason to bring up his birthday, but Elliot clearly remembers.]

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

Because I said so, that's why.

[And that's all he has to say on the matter. They still have a ways to go to get there, but as long as they don't take any detours, they'll be there in no time.]

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[That's a terrible reason. But fine, he'll wait and won't give Elliot any more grief— at least, till they get back home.]

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

[Give him grief and he will change his mind about all of this. Elliot immediately addresses his servant once they're inside the house.]

Give me the flowers. You can put the vase on the piano.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

...

[There is so many things wrong with that statement.]

Do you know how to arrange flowers, Elliot?

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

The extra ones don't need to be arranged.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

It'd be easier if I put the flowers in the vase instead.

[isntyourfriend.livejournal.com]

[...well, he was going to keep the extra ones, but to tell the truth, they're not that important to him. So he shrugs and starts heading to his room regardless.]

Do what you want with them.

[ishisfriend.livejournal.com]

[He can probably pluck them from the vase later if he really likes them...

Well then, if Elliot's going to his room, he'll just...head to the kitchen. The kitchen sink, to be more specific. There's flowers to arrange, man. And no one asks him if he thinks that it's unmanly for him to arrange flowers.]