How Long is 'Now'?

Xanadu Weyr - Petals and Pots Garden Shop
Upon entering this rustic shop, the smell of flowers is the first thing that one notices as well as the subtle musty scent of fertilizer. Selling everything for your garden needs from flowers and plants to pots and tools, the whole shop is lined with shelving filled with various things, arranged neatly by type. On the back wall trowels, rakes, shovels and clippers hang from nails, while underneath them clay pots, glass vases and bowls are stacked on the floor. In the middle of the shop is a small table that is filled with tiny glass perfume bottles with glass stoppers, each bearing a label that reads, 'Handcrafted Parfum' and an Iernian seal. These contain different fragrances, depending on the shape of the bottle. A variety of hanging baskets dangle from the ceiling, tumbles of lush vibrant flowers or vine-type plants trailing from them with price tags on the pots.

A sign can be seen near the entrance that simply states "Woo your significant other, send a hint to your brother or say hello to your mother with a surprise delivery!"

Midmorning finds the garden shop empty of customers and of staff, save for Marel, who currently sits at the main counter with a sketch book in-front of her, her head propped on one hand while she sketches out a design in clean, broad strokes of charcoal. Above her, there are a number of loops of flowers and vines in different sizes and various stages of drying out, the smallest looking quite crisp. There aren't really enough of them to sell as a new line, nor are they good enough - yet - to /be/ sold, but someone, all evidence suggests, is humouring her for the time being.

Muir steps into the little shop within which his sister works, pushing hair away from his damp forehead. The teen has obviously just been swimming, if his half dry swimming shorts and open button down tunic are any indication. Plus the sandals and the towel draped over his shoulders. "Hey," he says, glancing around before he meanders forward to peer down at her sketchbook. "Busy day, huh?"

"Hmm." It's a non-committal, distracted sort of a noise, Marel's focus still on her work until she completes the line she's working on and joins it up with another to make the whirl of what looks like a wire ornament at the centre of a bouquet. She leans away from her sketchbook enough for her brother to get a decent look, though doesn't twist it towards him. "We had some deliveries to make earlier in the morning, but not many customers since," she sighs. "What're you doing here? Must be bored if you're visiting me." Teasing? Maybe.

Muir quirks a grin at his sister and shrugs, "Maybe I just missed you," he returns the teasing, eying the sketch. "That's neat, going to make it?" Looking around the shop, he nods a little bit. "So how much are flowers anyway?"

"I don't know. Depends on what colour wire and whether it'd be cost-effective," Marel says with a one-shouldered shrug of her own, throwing that last term in there as if it's the latest thing she's learned. "Why? Are you going to buy some?" she enquires, following his gaze around the shop. "You've got your eye on some girl, haven't you? Not all girls like flowers, you know. There was a woman in here yesterday who was really offended that her girlfriend tried to apologise with these little white flowers. I don't know whether she was offended that her girlfriend had picked something so plain or /what/ was going on there."

Muir wrinkles his nose a bit at the words 'cost-effective'. He's heard enough about that recently, as he begins to meander through the shop. "Got my eye on lots of girls," he says with a crooked grin. Then he blinks. "They don't? Soriana seemed to like the flower I gave her, even though she's back with Kale. Most girls wouldn't be /offended/ by flowers, would they?" So the odds are in his favor with flowers.

"It's like saying all girls like firelizards - some of them don't," Marel supposes, glancing down to idly add shading to the drop of a leaf in her sketch. Perhaps it's to hide that she still looks faintly sick at the idea of her twin with girls. "It depends. Some girls don't like girly things - I don't know why - and flowers are thought of as girly, aren't they? It's not like many men go around handing each other bunches of flowers." Sighing again, she squares her shoulders and steels herself to ask, "Who is she then? I need to find out whether she's good enough for you, after all."

Muir considers that as he stops to lightly touch a delicate looking flower, retracting his finger before he does any damage. "That's true, but doesn't hurt to try I guess? Then if she doesn't like them, at least it's good that I tried something." So sayeth his logic. Glancing over his shoulder at his sister, he grins crookedly and shrugs. "No one specific. Just looking around." For flowers or girlfriends? "Kind of liked Soriana but she's with Kale and I don't do that."

"You know that Kale has two girlfriends, right?" Brows lifted, Marel glances over at Muir, trying to gauge whether that's news to him or not. Try as she might, she can't quite keep the judgemental tone from her voice, not outright disapproval, but it's clear enough that she doesn't think it's the sort of situation for her. Or, maybe, her brother, yet she still puts to him: "If he can have two girlfriends, maybe she can have two boyfriends." She wrinkles her nose, adding, "Not that I think you /should/ try that."

Muir stops, turning slowly to stare at his sister. "He has what?" The concept is clearly utterly foreign to the boy. "How does he have time for that /and/ Smithing?" He's confused, yes, but there's a bit of…jealousy? there as well. "I didn't know that. I don't want to share my girl, though. If I've got a girlfriend she's mine." Walking back to the counter, he leans against it and watches her. "Who is his other girl, then?"

"Idrissa." Less interested in gossiping and more in examining her twin's reaction to that kind of situation, Marel tilts her head as she asks him, "And what if your one-day girlfriend is a greenrider? Or a bluerider or… any kind of rider at all? Or /you're/ a rider?" And, more importantly: "Do you really want to be a Smith?" She regards him steadily, her expression one of calm serenity and not easily readable, any intense curiosity tucked neatly away.

Muir shakes his head slowly. "Don't think I've seen her…" At least not since they returned to the weyr. Then he shakes his head. "Flight's're flights," he says firmly. That's been drilled into him since he first started paying attention to that sort of thing. "It's different. It's not…/choosing/ to go be with someone else." His fingers drum on the countertop, a sure sign that he's thinking and a bit agitated before he pushes his hair back in a gesture exactly like their father's. "No," he answers truthfully. "Thought I wanted to, but then I thought I'd be a messenger, but then I thought…why do I have to do anything? Been doing lessons and everything for the last however long it was, so I need a break." Rebellion and lack of motivation FTW. Glancing at his sister, he watches her closely, looking perhaps for that curiosity. "Do you really want to work in a flower shop?"

"If it's really that simple, why do some people still get mad over flights?" Maybe Marel doesn't expect a proper answer to that, dismissing the thought with a twitch of her lips. "You have to do /something/," she insists, concern leaking into her voice, even if she won't let it show on her face. "You can't be a grown-up who doesn't do anything. What if you end up being some forty turn old guy who does chores in the caverns with the kids?" So much for untroubled; she actually shivers at that thought. "And yes, I do." Is that a touch defensive? "None of the crafts; none of the other jobs called to me and this did. I can't forever hope that someone like Seryth will pick me and make nothing of myself in the meantime."

Muir shrugs, "I dunno." He's never actually been in that situation, so he can only speculate. His grin is a touch wry at her statement about doing something, though. "Not going to be a grown-up who doesn't do anything. Just don't want to do anything /now/. We deserve a break, don't we?" Tapping his fingers on the counter again, he lifts the towel to scrub at his drying hair and snorts. "Not gonna be a forty turn old guy scrubbing tables." But then he sobers a bit. "Yeah…kind of had to give up on that dream, at Coldstone," he admits quietly. "Can't plan for a dragon."

"I just… don't want anyone thinking I rely on who Mama is to make my way," Marel murmurs with a mournful look down at her sketch, charcoal finally set aside. "But how long is /now/ going to be, Muir? You've got to… think about these things." She bites down on her lip, seeming to be literally trying to bite words back, but they escape anyway. "I don't want to sit around and do nothing and feel sorry for myself because we came back to a /mess/ and a drunk Daddy and people asking where we've been when I just want to tell them how horrible Thadan is," slips free all in a rush, without pause for breath, "but I won't, because he's still Mama's father."

Muir's brows lift as he listens to and watches his sister. "I don't know, another sevenday? Don't you want a break? We just got back. And I'm not feeling sorry for myself." Quite the opposite, really. He's got free time, free run of the weyr, no responsibilities…what could be better? He looks worriedly at his sister tho, and reaches out for her hand. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. I haven't told anyone how bad Thadan is. But we're done with that. We never have to go back. He might be father by blood, but you know /our/ dad would /never/ treat us like that. Thadan is a horrible man and I don't want to think of him as family," he says, some anger sparking in his eyes. "You know why Mom had us at Coldstone? Thadan grabbed her by the throat and made her go into labor."

Marel shakes her head, the guilt she tries to hide all the more easily readable the harder she tries. "…I don't want a break," she utters in a whisper, gripping her twin's hand tightly. "I just… don't." For all sorts of reasons, but perhaps, given her reaction, because she doesn't believe she deserves one. "And I /hate him/," she states with a quiet, heated passion. "He's not our family. I never want to see him again." Seems that news of Thadan grabbing Thea by the throat has put that final nail in the coffin. It takes her a few moments and deep breath, but she tries to put it all aside as she lets go of Muir's hand and hops down from her seat at the counter. "Come on," she encourages, attempting to move on, "I'll show you some of the flowers your /girly/ girls might like."

Muir squeezes her hand back, fingers twining tightly with hers. Her insistence that she doesn't want a break is confusing to the teen, but he doesn't argue with her about it. But he'll probably try to make sure she gets out with him for /some/ fun. "I do too," he says, quiet but firm, anger still simmering in his eyes. He pulls his hand back when she does, and his crooked smile reappears. "Lead on, Mare," he says teasingly, but he'll follow after her happily as she shows him what her shop has to offer.

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