Xanadu Weyr - Wildflower Boutique
Whitewashed walls form the canvas for the colourful array of flower, garden and decorative goods that are to be found lining the shop's polished shelves and smooth granite countertops. Around the edge of the room, a slim metal frame supports deep glass buckets in which a variety of freshly-cut flowers sit to be selected for bouquets and arrangements from as few as half a dozen stems to much grander affairs. Above them, shelves contain a selection of clay, glass and stone vases, handheld gardening equipment and decorative stock, such as ribbons, small cans of waterproof paint and fancy paper wrapping. Fertiliser, pots and troughs are kept on display outside and beneath an adjustable awning in-case of rain, a wider range available upon request.
Three islands in the centre of the shop floor provide space for gift items and the like, including metal flower pins, single ornamental stems for vases, and taller metal blooms to be stood in gardens. A price list notes them as crafted by Ka'el and also available in precious metals such as gold and silver. Other items on the counters include a range of small bouquets deliberately designed with firelizard delivery in mind, meadow-themed silver jewellery, and small gift-baskets containing the seeds and markers needed to start small herb gardens and plant window boxes.
The main service counter is situated along the back wall, where a list of bouquet prices and other fresh flower products, including circlets, arrangements for special occasions, and petals by the bag can be seen on a large chalk board hung on the wall.
Everyone pity the poor salesperson stuck working this evening shift. It's almost closing time, and the Wildflower Boutique is a wreck. Blossoms litter the floor, some crushed by pacing footsteps and others simply laying spread across the ground in tribute. The unsuspecting clerk stuck behind the counter has given up all form of protest, and now simply stands there frozen, watching in horror as a proddy goldrider continues to tear the store to shreds. "No, no, NO!" Nessalyn growls, tossing yet another innocent flower on the floor. She picks another up and moves toward the clerk, who at least has the sense to try to back away before she begins jabbing the flower into his chest. "Why. Don't. You. Have. It??" Jab, jabbity, jab.
SO WHY IS RISALI HERE? To be honest, your guess is as good as mine. She's not really the flower type, you see, but she's here anyway, at first unsuspecting of what horrors lie in wait behind innocuous doors and then thrown right into the middle of it by stepping on one, two, five discarded flowers. "What in the -" What in the is right, Risali, and the what becomes evident with alacrity when there stands Nessalyn, a proverbial bull in a china shop, rampaging through a space too small to contain all her… that… while brandishing flowers at clerks. Risali stares, then stares harder, then blinks owlishly slow as if she hasn't quite been able to tackle the logic behind just what it is that her eyes are seeing in this very moment. "You know," Risali says slowly, softly, tired, "if you want to appear more threatening, Nessalyn, you probably need something a little more sharp." THAT'S A GREAT IDEA, RISALI. Give the rampaging, proddy goldrider IDEAS. « IT WOULD CERTAINLY BE MORE BADASS. » And amid Leirith's mind-rending version of conversation, Risali picks her way carefully through the strewn mess of once pristine flowers and, once close enough to Nessalyn, holds up both hands, palms facing the Junior, as if to show she's no threat. "So what do we need to find to prevent murder, Ness?" Because listen, she has enough paperwork to contend with RIGHT THIS VERY MOMENT, thank you very, very much.
It's only very shortly after Risali enters the shop that Ki'lian does too. Seablues fall to the floor as already-crushed flower petals and stems and further worn into the floor by black boots. From there his gaze flicks up to the pair of them, falling away from Risali to focus on Nessalyn's rampage in particular. He watches, quiet, though his expression is loud enough. That cocksure grin draws those lines on roguish face, too arrogant to hide it and brows raised in curious amusement. While he doesn't close the distance between the proddy Nessa as Risali does. Rather, he stands more just.. in the doorway. Basically in the way of anyone else trying to enter, or leave. Darkening his area in that way he has of overwhelming a space, there is a heavy exhale first in response to Risali's.. correction? offer? reminder? Thumb brushes over the backs of rings in patient consideration before gravel-hewn voice drawls in thick accent, "You needn't remind her of that, Risa. I'm rather certain there may be no more shopkeep should you replace that flower with much else." Yet, despite the words churned in the manner of 'warning', there is nothing outrightly… opposed, either. Dark humor already influences it all, yet is the reason he adds no more quite yet, far more interested in the answer to Risali's last question.
Nessalyn seems to be doing a fair job terrifying the clerk without anything sharp, but Risali's TOTALLY SMART suggestion doesn't go unnoticed. A nearby pair of shears are picked up and snapped menacingly at the poor man, all without relinquishing her flower. It does, however, turn swiftly in Risali's direction when the other goldrider dares to approach. TRUST NO ONE. "A flower. The right flower." Which, it seems, is not among the stock at the Boutique. Or maybe she just HASN'T TORN THROUGH ENOUGH OF THE STOCK YET. In a sudden movement, she whirls to go search through more bundles of flowers, only to hear Ki'lian's voice. Instantly, those shears are hurled in his direction - although thankfully, she moves too quickly to have any sort of deadly aim. « She's not supposed to kill anyone! » Tineangrath is at least sort of monitoring the situation, in between drifting off into once upon a dream-like humming. Her weapon hurled, Ness goes back to plucking blossoms and tossing them on the floor as they dissatisfy her.
WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH. GARDEN SHEERS? See, Ki'lian, Risali would have looked at you, but she's busy putting up her hands and trying not to fall Victim Number One to Nessalyn's viciously proddy determination. There is a shiver of stillness through Leirith herself, but… then booming laughter as Nessalyn turns away - a brush of affection for Tine, as if she knows only TOO WELL the struggles of riders and just how very disappointing they can be. ESPECIALLY when they are proddy. "Thanks, Ki'lian," Risali tells the bronzerider only once Nessalyn has turned away, the mild heat of accusation in her voice accompanied by a look, and then a gesture in Nessalyn's direction. There are a few more gestures for the man while - "Faranth," Ki'lian's own life is endangered, and then her movements become a touch more emphatic as Nessalyn turns back to destroying the boutique. ASSUMING Ki'lian isn't hurt, PAY ATTENTION. Yeah, that definitely looks like… okay maybe that's the universal sign for… no, Risali is definitely telling Ki'lian to MURDER NESSALYN. WAIT, WAIT. That one there - right okay. That one looks more like, 'DO SOMETHING YOU'RE BIGGER THAN HER SIT ON HER OR SOMETHING WHY ARE YOU BLOCKING THE DOORWAY THIS IS IT THIS IS HOW IT ENDS WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE.' And then she's moving through flowers again, tip-toeing towards Nessalyn. "May I help you?" And maybe she's signaling for the clerk to FLEE, GET OUT, GO HOME. But, well… that doesn't necessarily mean he sees it. Or understands it. Risali, in all honesty, looks like she's half ready to curl up on all of those flowers and nap it out, so trust that AN ATTEMPT WAS MADE, okay.
The pruning shears don't quite miss him, but he does move enough- and she threw them too quickly of course- that it's the handles that glance off his leg and clutter to the floor admist the floral caracasses. Gaze of abyssal oceans lingers on Nessa, a side-long watch that only leaves briefly when he leans to pick the weapon up on the floor. His jacket is shifted out of the way by a practiced motion of sheathing a weapon in his belt towards his lower back. Out of sight, out of mind. Ki'lian yet still fails to be quick to intervene. Rather than being useful- except he's always useful just by being present and roguishly handsome, let's be real- he chuckles, a breathy, low sound that rises like some subtle but sinisterly amused tide. "You're most welcome." Is hummed from his peanut-gallery corner of sorts. We could pretend he's being helpful and claim he's keeping this rampage within a small focal area rather than unleashing the destruction to the rest of the Weyr, but that might be a stretch. Eventually, though, he's moving towards the both of them, his black-wrapped hand hovering along the aisle of flowers not wholly ruined quiet yet, plucking one orange-and-red lily-like flower from the depth of a collection. "And what might this one single flower look like, Nessalyn?" The man doesn't fear much, but he's not quick to restrain that one. DO WE NOT ALL REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE? "We do have wings, you know. We could find it." You know, anywhere else. Far from paper-work-inducing shops. The heavy nothingness of darkness weighs against the dragon mindspace, the implication of dread tickling up the spine as the absolute-night gives way to the moons-pale light glinted off an otherwordly sea and the menacing fog that roils and rolls across its black-glass and white-cap face. « It seems that part may yet be determined. »
Poor Tineangrath is between a rock and a hard place, because she wants that flower, but she doesn't want poor, innocent clerks to be victimized because of it. But her Nessalyn says this is the best way, so surely it must be, right? "It's just-" She takes one flower and viciously whacks it against the wall until petals flutter to the floor - apparently the punishment it deserves for NOT BEING WHAT SHE WANTS. (So yeah, Ki'lian is probably wise not to try to restrain her.) "It's not here," she laments, whirling on Risali. "Why isn't it here?" She kicks over a bucket of flowers for good measure, finding no solace in the pooling water that spreads out from the toppled bucket. "It looks like a flower. It looks like the flower." She gestures with the hand still holding that jabbing flower, waving it wildly as though this somehow describes a blossom. The crazy eyes are real here, folks. « Could you find it? » Tineangrath is considerably more thrilled by the prospect, her dreamy humming focusing in on HER HERO (maybe). « I can show you what it looks like. » The image that she passes on to all of the potential flower shop victims is that of an overly ornate bloom, one which cannot possibly exist in nature.
RIGHT OKAY SO WE ARE GETTING SOMEWHERE. You know, after that poor flower meets its fate against the wall, and after that bucket gets overturned, but we're getting somewhere. Risali's too focused on Nessalyn to spare Ki'lian's approach any mind, but she does move to give him space as he joins the duo of goldriders, which means she's certainly aware of his presence. "Well -" Risali starts, as if she might actually be able to explain why it's not there, only there's Ki'lian, with a beautiful flower of his own to offer. Annnd there's Zydd, with the BEST (worst) IDEAS that lead to - well. Okay, so they were getting somewhere, and now they're getting nowhere. Risali blinks back into focus, looks at that flower that Ki'lian is holding, and then promptly puts her hand over it to PUSH IT OUT OF NESSALYN'S PURVIEW, less she decide to attempt to murder the bronzerider for producing yet another incorrect blossom. "What if we commissioned a crafter to make a replica of that flower?" Because IT PROBABLY DOESN'T EXIST, NESSALYN. "Then you and Tineangrath could have it forever, and you wouldn't have to worry about it wilting." See? It… might be a good idea? SO WHY IS SHE ELBOWING KI'LIAN? Clearly she's trying to communicate something to the man, but it's hard to tell what, exactly, that something is. Leirith? Don't mind her, man. She's just enjoying the show.
"There are many flowers in the world, love. One shop cannot contain them all. Certainly not the best and rarest ones." Ki'lian implies something along the lines of hope, of a treasure meant to be found somewhere, in that usual cryptic manner of his that likely has only gotten worse (better?). Whatever he's to say next is interrupted by Risali pushing his sacrificial offer out of sight. One brow raises, but he lets it drop to join the rest on the floor, and then dusts his palms off lightly before himself, the sound muffled by the fabric of his one palm. "….Aye." The hesitance may be lack of agreement, but it's probably the nudge that shuts up whatever was going to come instead, "Of course. A permanent reminder of.. this." Whatever was attempted to be communicated has failed, and he's looking down at Risali, while idle motion brings a hand scratch 'neath earring'd ear. RIGHT AS ZYDDAGATH ADDS MORE HELP- The fog rolls thicker, the foreboding nightmarish breath of purgatory's seething, pregnant atmosphere. Dampness pervades this last resting place, dense and engulfing, « A pearl of deep that be. Have you seen one quite like it before? » Drawls those Stygian Waters, promoting that fancy, that fascination, in the cruely interested way of his, « What if the wonder of such a jewel be in its adventure? Would you embark on such a quest? »
Good call, Risali, because Nessalyn catches that faint hue of orange-and-red out of the corner of her eye and turns, looking as though she's fully prepared to rip it from Ki'lian's hand and beat him with it. Admittedly, the flower itself wouldn't do much, but that beating might put her close enough to grab those shears back from him and REALLY do some damage. Luckily for everyone, just as swiftly as it pops up on Nessalyn's radar, it's gone, and the goldrider's anger swiftly redirects toward the toppled bucket, which is now too close to her. She kicks it hard, sending it skittering across the floor to knock a second bucket over. Strike! "Commissioned a… crafter?" The words are slow to filter through the proddy haze, but they do cause Ness to temporarily stop in her destruction. Does she want that? Do they want that? "But then it wouldn't be… a… flower." Her eye is twitching, just a little. "I want V'ayn to make me a cake with flowers on it," she says suddenly, her voice going a little bit dreamy, although it's hard to tell if that's because of the bronzerider in question or the pastry. "But I still want the flower. Or the… replica." At least the confusion seems to have slowed her progress in laying total waste to the store, so that's progress. « I dreamed it. » Or maybe Nessalyn did, it's hard to tell at this point. Her thoughts all twisted up in romantic tunes and visions of true love, and it's difficult to follow the light that leads to any sort of logical tale. « I'm not allowed to leave. I'm supposed to be here right now. »
Yeah, Ki'lian. YOU'RE WELCOME, BOOBOO. Risali winces when that bucket goes flying, flinches when a second bucket gets knocked over, but she doesn't comment on it. "You could have it forever," Risali hurries to say, because it wouldn't be a live flower, but she doesn't want to focus on that so much as the fact that maybe they can still get their hands on the pretty. "And - okay. Okay. V'ayn will probably make you a cake with flowers on it. Does…" a beat, "Does it have to be that flower on the cake?" You know, the PRETTY ONE, THAT DOESN'T EXIST. Ki'lian's downward look is returned, Risali putting her hands on her hips and looking up at the bronzerider, once more, as if she expects something of him but - again - she doesn't elaborate or ASSIST. She just gives him a gentle pat somewhere on his back and then turns her attention back onto Nessalyn. "Do you maybe want to come with me and Ki'lian so that we can ask V'ayn about that cake?" Because they can start there, right? And then they can redirect back to trying to find somebody to make them an eternal bloom after. First priority: GET HER OUT OF THE FLOWER SHOP.
There might be an eyeroll here of kohl-rimmed eyes at the abrupt change of course- whether it also be about the other bronze rider or the pastry is uncertain. Attention drifts after the buckets, but returns to the junior shortly after. "You will." Ki'lian responds in regards to having the flower too. "We will find you one, real or crafted. Perhaps we may use that crafted one to search long and hard later for the real thing, aye?" It sounds vaguely like a promise, a sort of worded contract. Or maybe it's just encouragement to give up on the here and now regardless of the truth of it. The continued LACK OF INFORMATION from Risali lends to a persistent confusion, though with the roguish nonchalance he bears, that really only comes to light as him continuing to be unhelpful in whatever direction she's trying to go here. "Maybe we ought find V'ayn to meet up with us outside of the kitchens." Do you really want Nessalyn around baking tools? Never have flowers been so threatening until now, let alone what awaits them. « Of course you did. » Those three words are partially mouthed by Ki'lian at the same time Zyddagath's amusement breaches the response, « Not allowed? » His question does not imply that he doesn't know or understand that the queen shouldn't leave the grounds, just that.. it could be a rule to bend. Couldn't it? « A shame. I could look for you. But what else is it that you wish for? Perhaps there is something else while we find that which you dream of. »
"YES." Of course it has to be that flower. THERE ARE NO OTHER FLOWERS IN THE WORLD, RISALI. Or at least there won't be if they don't get Nessalyn out of that flower shop, since she seems bound and determined to destroy everything that isn't her imaginary flower. But the fixation apparently runs deep, and she's unwilling to compromise with anything less than EXACTLY THAT FLOWER. For a moment, she glances around at all the destruction she has wrought, looking almost surprised to see it there. But then her attention snaps back to Risali with the promise of finding V'ayn and getting that cake and she - thankfully - nods. "Okay. We can find V'ayn and then the flower." Good call on keeping her out of the kitchens, Ki'lian. There's a very, very thin line between this Nessalyn and the destructive force of moments before, and no one wants her around knives when that happens. « Just that. And true love. » Tineangrath hasn't quite found the dragon of her dreams yet, it seems, although her lights glimmer a bit brighter for the fact that Zyddagath is willing to go on a dangerous quest for her!
Risali: zero percent helpful. Except - now, perhaps, when she catches Ki'lian by the arm, jerks to try and get him down on HER SMOL LEVEL, and whispers something in his ear. There's another LOOK, a raise of brows, and then… a smile, forced and tired but no less a smile as she turns her attention back onto Nessalyn. "Okay. Right. That flower. Maybe V'ayn can even create something that looks like it, so that you can eat it on your cake." IT WOULD BE GOOD. "Come on, then. Let's go." And Risali will gesture towards the exit, because that is the direction that they should be headed in, while reaching for that DANGEROUS SET OF SHEERS Ki'lian tucked away somewhere because PERSONAL SPACE, WHAT PERSONAL SPACE? And also, keeping Ness away from the knives will only do them so good if she gets ahold of those.
Despite all the posturing and whathaveyou, he is often relatively maliable to such demands as Risali pulling on his arm, bending enough that she can whisper in his ear. Dark-shadowed seablue eyes search grey ones for a moment, though he doesn't respond yet to whatever was said. The curiously amused grin hasn't entirely left him amidst all this talk of cake and whatever, but it has faded a touch. He steps back as if to make way for the pair of them, paused by Risali's abrupt search of his person for the sheers he'd tucked into his belt at his lower back. "If you wish to get close to me, you need only ask." Ki'lian offers, moving one of his arms to not impede her search, rather than to keep her away from it, but it might take a bit of (awkward) effort to grab them. So, his other hand pulls them from their hiding place to hand to her somewhere amidst that struggle, the hand-off happening low and as palmed as sheers can be to try to keep them out of Nessalyn's direct line of sight. Her next throw might not be so inaccurate, afterall. "The sooner we ask, the sooner you may have it, you know. Out we get." There must be some unspoken dialogue, for the man's gaze is distant afterwards when he moves to start to leave just as Zyddagath continues briefly with, « Just that. » He muses at 'true love', some sickly-pale green-touched luminescence swirling beneath that otherworldly ocean, murmurings of a thousand incoherent voices just-beyond.
The Ness Monster has been temporarily mollified, although there's no telling how long this peaceful interlude will last. But at least she's being ushered out the door before the switch can flip again and the flower shop is entirely leveled. "Or so I can keep it forever." Please, no one remind her that keeping desserts forever is a bad idea, just smile and nod until the idea passes or Tineangrath finally rises. She reaches back as she passes Ki'lian, grabbing him by the shirt and yanking him along as she steps out of the shop. Why? Who knows! She doesn't appear to notice the passing of the shears, and if she does, it seems they're no longer of immediate interest. She might regret that later if she can't get to the knives. "Maybe he can make a flower out of flour," she comments with a dry laugh as she leads the way toward… wherever V'ayn is located. Hopefully someone will warn him that his culinary services are needed in order to save Xanadu from total destruction. No pressure.