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 Posted: Fri Sep 27, 2013 8:10 am
Isha took the silence as a rejection of his offer. Until now, he didn't entirely consider what kind of blow to a man's pride it could be when a person so much younger than them offered assistance.. With the red hue noticed, the boy felt immediately ashamed of himself, having caused someone he admired so much as he did to feel such a thing.. And the silence.. Ooh, that aching silence that filled the air stung like a million little pinpricks to his skin. Though he tried to open his mouth to apologize, even though this silence was suffocating him, he could not.
His eyes remained downcast towards his own hands, and when Krishna let the other go, he held the finger up to his eyes to look it over. The needle stab wasn't all that serious, but Krishna, in his mind, treated as if he had sliced his hand open with a butcher's knife. Even with such a cold demeanor, maybe Krishna really did care about his student.. Or atleast that's what Isha would like to believe.
"How old am I?" He echoed back, a little confused by the sudden question. "I'm sixteen, why do you ask?"
Quicksilver the Archangel
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Posted: Sun Sep 29, 2013 10:18 pm
Sixteen. Krishna nodded to show that he had heard the information, but he continued to pack away the first aid kit. When he had put away all of the pieces, he tucked the box back into its normal place behind the desk. He brushed aside some dust from the cash register and went back to his garland. Clearly, he expected Isha to follow. He waited until he took up a yellow hibiscus and began to thread it before he answered his student's question. There was an added level of ice in his voice, although it was softer than normal. A cold fury made his words clipped, but the touch to his flowers held none of his frost. "When I was sixteen, I had been tending lawns and flowers for three years, a step up from my more childish jobs. Most went to my family; some I saved. Eventually, those savings became this shop." The bright yellow flower now safely on board, he reached for an orange one. "I have supported myself and others for longer than you have been alive. I have earned everything, taught myself everything... repaired everything, all on my own. Now, I teach you. Tell me..." Now he looked away from the flowers and directly towards the boy, a sneer openly on his face as damaged pride and vanity took hold over his normal silence. "Do you think I need the soft charity you offer--if it is even yours to give?"
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Quicksilver the Archangel
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Posted: Mon Sep 30, 2013 4:35 am
This wasn't good at all.. The continued silence was sickening, and Isha was so very grateful when they begun to move again. Atleast the shuffling of their feet allowed for some change to the still air between them.
In the end, he'd rather the silence continue on. The looks he received from his teacher.. Those icy glances that just seemed to cut him deeper than perhaps any other glance he had received before. Even when standing before those who wished to kill him, or facing down the deaths of others there was not this much pain. Maybe he was over romanticizing the entire thing, but it still was an indescribable amount of pain, aimed for his very heart. Someone he admired so greatly, someone who he would do anything to please.. Why did it come off like he was hated. He couldn't even manage to pick up the flowers again, lest his own hand come down to crush the tiny blooms between them.
"I can't help that I was taken from my home when I was a child and thrust into a world where money is everything? I never knew about you, our your background, or anything of the sort. I could I tell you would be someone who would hate receiving something? Am I just.. Am I just to leave someone who might need help standing off to the side like some sort of heartless beast? That's not who I am, śikṣaka. I was taken from within rubble and crumbled walls from a child, to where I am now. I am but a kid, and maybe, if my family had not died, I would be just like you. But the world is filled with maybes and what-fis and I just.. No. No, I don't think you need the 'soft charity' of someone like me, of someone who apparently doesn't understand 'hardships' struggles. I was just trying to reciprocate the kindness you've shown to me. If it isn't needed, a simple 'no thank you'. Would suffice."
His hands were shaking, the very tips feeling numb, and it was not just because of the injury to his hands either. He didn't know what else to say, what else to even think. Would could even be appropriate right now anywahy? Nothing, really. Just to pick his own flowers, the ones that was crushed between his fingers, and had blood on it's petals, and to toss it aside. He needed to stop living in a fantasy land..
Quicksilver the Archangel
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Posted: Mon Sep 30, 2013 10:01 pm
Krishna continued to fill his garland while Isha spoke. His pattern was obvious - three yellow, three orange, three pink. The one white hibiscus acted as the anchor, a creamy center piece meant to draw attention from the conformity of the bright colors. His activity did not mean he was not listening. He was rather good at listening and had the patience to hear someone out fully. "No, you cannot." Krishna's words were now back to his normal tone - biting, but without true hatred or malice. "Our pasts are fixed. But you can affect now." He looked back to the boy, his golden eyes bright. "Observe. Judge. Proceed. Necessary in arranging flowers and in life. You misjudged me. Yet, you call me teacher. Will you learn from me?" "Do as you will," the florist stated, a simple finish to what was, for him, quite a long speech. Steady fingers took up yet another hibiscus. Carefully, quietly, he continued to build. Whether or not his pupil remained and continued to learn was entirely in his bandaged hands.
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Quicksilver the Archangel
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Posted: Mon Sep 30, 2013 10:28 pm
With the bloodied flowers tossed for now, he sat back down beside his teacher, glaring at his unfinished garland. Maybe he should leave! It's not like his teacher wasn't already paid. And he had learned how to string flowers. Perhaps it's not the entire process, but it was still something. And though his teacher's voice felt like it was it was enticing him to leave.
"If you were anyone else, I would not bother to." He spoke, his tone going flat as he picked up his own garland, making sure there was no blood on the needle, before he began to string his little blooms once more. He could not be angry at the flowers. They didn't heart his heart. They were simply witnesses to something they had no control over.
"Lord Krishna created this list, these were his talents, his arts. If I am blessed with a teacher of the same name, then I cannot simply let that pass. It is as if my lord was teaching me himself." Isha had half a mind to stab himself in the thigh for remaining here in the shop with the elder man. If anything, he was determined not to make a fool of himself twice.
"I will keep going, for however long it takes for me to learn, and even then, I'll continue going still."
Quicksilver the Archangel
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Posted: Wed Oct 02, 2013 8:25 pm
Cooro Cooro Going to call this the ending post - you're welcome to snag one more! Otherwise, I'll mark it as done. :3 The florist nodded to indicate that he had heard. Isha would stay. It was enough. His bruised pride might make however much longer the student stayed tender... but he would not lash out again. Partially because the boy was not worth his anger or frustration. Partially because he could respect, on some level, his sudden steel. If Krishna could choose a lesson for the boy to learn... then this one was not a bad one. Anything desired--knowledge, strength--had to be earned. One had to be willing to fight for it. Krishna resumed stringing his almost complete garland and let that lesson lie.
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Quicksilver the Archangel
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