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 Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 1:05 pm
I n f o r m a t i o n::
Name: Valencia.
Gender: Female.
Date of Birth: 10th April, 2009.
Dust/Essence: Morning Dew.
Stage: Bottle.
Personality: { Please PM Platy with your keywords. }
This is the journal of Valencia and Doctor Rocket. Follow all of their rules as well as the guild's rules and Gaia TOS.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 1:07 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:28 pm
 o1. Info - Cert
o2. Skills
o3. Table of Contents
o4. Valencia - Dust
o5. Milo - Guardian
o6. Roleplay Log
o7. Growth
o8. Relationships
o9. Battle Log
1o. Familiars
11. Gift Box
12. Flatsale Response
13. Reserved
14. Reserved
15. Credits■ ■ ■ ■ ■
Please do not post without my permission, unless you're Life Dust staff. ♥
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:29 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:30 pm
 _______________________you're the finest thing that I've done
_______________________the hurricane I'll never outrun
_______________________I could wait around for the dust to still
_______________________but I don't believe that it ever will 〤 you know me as :: Miles Gavin Cornelle
Meaning→ ( Soldier ) ( White Hawk of Battle ) ( Horned / Crow )
〤 but you can call me :: Milo ( the nickname originated in his gang days, as his friends thought "Miles" was too boring. The name stuck, and he is called this by most everyone but co-workers. )
〤 age :: Twenty-three ( 23 )
〤 gender :: Male ( ♂ )
〤 sexuality :: Asexual ( he'd say he was straight if asked, but he really doesn't know )
〤 occupation :: Chief Analytics Officer ( CAO )
〤 pictures a worth a thousand words :: • ← ← ←
〤 appearance :: Tall, serious, and handsome. Milo looks like a relatively normal businessman in his sharply cut suits and crisply ironed shirts, but he has a wild air about him that never quite faded from his glory days on the streets. He smells like smoke and cinnamon, and doesn't care what people think about him, as long as he isn't bothering them. The dye has long since faded from his hair, finally revealing the natural medium-brown underneath. His hair is cropped short and orderly (although it doesn't look like that in the mornings). Brunette bangs fall just above his eyes, swept to the right, trendy but out of the way. Under sky-blue-tinted glasses are unusually pretty teal eyes, which he hides diligently to keep both women and men away. The glasses he never takes off are actually unnecessary, unbeknownst to everyone- they're just fake lenses. Standing at 6'2", Milo is tall but doesn't have a looming effect. He's more like a model than a mobster nowadays. The brunette has a vaguely muscular build; with streamlined and toned muscles, but not to the point they bulge. Milo's right ear is pierced twice, which is sort of his masochistic gay joke to the world. He's fully aware of how cliché it is. When asked about it, he just says "I've had it forever", which is half true: his ears were pierced when he was a teenager, but he took the ones on his left ear out after realizing he was in the closet. (Will be edited/More to be added later.)
〤 personality :: Milo isn't a particularly exciting person. He likes routine and stability, though he tends to unwillingly get into trouble. Concentrated and loyal, Milo makes a good worker, though he doesn't let himself be abused. He's sort of distant from co-workers and doesn't have anything along the lines of "friends". The old gang blood still flows in his veins, and if someone pushes him or people he likes around, parts of his old personality emerge. He can be sort of scary at times; with his strength, height, and vicious-if-provoked personality. Milo's anger, however, is usually passive-aggressive. But when faced with a problem, he'd rather sort it out so that everyone else is happy, even at his own expense. Milo diligently pretends not to care about people, but he does, regardless of how distant he acts. Still being added on. ♥
〤 history :: As a child, Milo blatantly ignored authority. He became a delinquent at a surprisingly young age and started running with a bad crowd, much to the dismay of his parents. Milo's smooth attitude and fierce personality soon gained him his own gang, which quickly earned a reputation. Stealing, fighting, and cheating became a part of Milo's everyday life, and eventually he lost contact with his parents. Every night for years he slept in a different place, traveling about the city with his band of hoodlums from day to day. One event, however, changed his perspective of life forever. A member of his gang was out stealing alcohol as part of a nightly raid, and got caught up in an accident on the way back. Even though Milo knew it was tragic and couldn't have been stopped, he quickly realized the fate of his gang. They would either be picked off one by one through accidents or fights, or they would fall to alcoholism or illnesses from their bad habits. Not wanting to risk any more lives, Milo disbanded the gang and vowed to turn his life around. He took a job at the bustling market, eventually working his way from position to position until he became the CAO of a more prominent food supplier. Milo has now settled into a routine lifestyle, rarely straying into the unpredictable or dangerous situations that used to make up his life. More to be added. ♥
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:58 pm
✖✖ spacespacespacespacespacespacespacespacespace ✖✖
[ prp ] -- private roleplay
[ jrp ] -- journal entry
[ srp ] -- quest roleplay
[ orp ] -- open roleplay
[ grp ] -- group roleplay
[ qrp ] -- growth quest
✖✖ spacespacespacespacespacespacespacespacespace ✖✖ [PRP] one day - - one ( c a k e ) ... !!
[ORP] Spring Event
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:58 pm
 Bottle → Dust Spin:
☑ Set up journal
☐ Journal entry
☐ Stay active in the thread Dust Spin → Child:
☐ Journal entry
☐ Meet another Guardian/Dust
☐ Quest
☐ Stay active in the thread
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 9:59 pm
✖✖ spacespacespacespacespacespacespacespacespace ✖✖
✎ Valencia's thoughts.
✔ Milo's thoughts.
✖✖ spacespacespacespacespacespacespacespacespace ✖✖
Inge ♥ Oxiin
✎ Pending.
✔ Pending.
Lan ♥ Krinn
✎ Pending.
✔ Pending.
Marijus ♥ Cadaver
✎ Pending.
✔ Pending.
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:00 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:02 pm
  Won in the Lucky Dip during the Spring Event. ♥
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:03 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:04 pm
My entry from the Spring Event flatsale »Prompt #1
╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════╗
Stubborn as bindweed and tough as old nails; Dew is not the
kind of Dust that will be openly affected by what others say about her.
However, it seems as though a group of mean hearted children have
taken it upon themselves to tease Dew for her tomboyish looks and for
one reason or another she has taken their comments to heart... Why does
what they say suddenly matter? How does she deal with this issue?
╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════╝ "What?" Valencia asked, frowning at the numbers the lady had rattled off. Whenever she tried to buy something, everyone always started speaking in numbers instead of words. The older woman smiled knowingly and leaned over the counter. Valencia- or Vale, as she preferred to be called- dug out a wad of paper and coins from her pockets and held it out for the woman to see. After separating the lump into separate bills, the shopkeeper looked them over. "It's going to be two of these," she said, pointing to a piece of paper, "Two of those, and one of these," she finished, gesturing to a couple coins. Valencia handed the woman the paper and pieces of metal she had requested, then stuffed the rest back into the deep pockets of her shorts. They weren't really shorts on her- they reached just past her knees, and had to be pinned to stay around her waist. A light blue t-shirt hung on her small shoulders like a dress, tucked in fitfully to her shorts in places. Milo was going to take her to do something called "shopping" during the two days of the week he was off work, but Valencia didn't really understand why she couldn't keep wearing his clothes. He didn't wear anything but suits and long-sleeved shirts anyway, so it wasn't like it was a problem for him to loan out his unused clothes. Maybe it was because she always returned them wet and covered in dirt.
With a bit of an effort, Vale hoisted the freshly purchased bag of mulch into her arms. It was too big for her and a tad on the too-heavy side, but she wasn't one to complain. Nodding a goodbye toward the flower shop clerk, she turned on her heel and sauntered out of the small shop. A breeze smelling faintly of flowers greeted her as Valencia stepped back into the bright sunlight of the morning. The wind caught in her hair, whipping blue streaks gently around her face. Raising a hand, she shielded her eyes from the sunshine as she took a moment to watch a puffy white cloud float in the direction of her home. It would be nice to lay on one of those, she thought, starting down the street. Her imagination filled with visions of lying in the midst of white fluff, Valencia walked with a skip in her step, bouncing the bag of mulch in her arms. It smelled earthy and reminded her a little bit of the gardens she sometimes passed on walks with Milo.
The mulch was the last thing she needed to start growing her flowers. And with this final ingredient, she was intent on making even more of a mess in Milo's apartment. The room he had given her had been converted into a makeshift greenhouse, much to her guardian’s dismay. Valencia didn’t know why he couldn’t understand that perfect conditions were necessary. After all, the plants couldn't survive on just the damp, comforting atmosphere she could provide on her own. They needed extra help and sunlight if they were going to grow big and strong. Vale had bought seeds two days earlier, pots the next day, then a watering can, and finally mulch. The kind lady that ran the nursery was happy to help Valencia pick everything out, but constantly joked about Vale having a "healthy-sized allowance". Valencia didn't understand what it meant. But since the woman only mentioned it when Vale dug what Milo called "money" out of her pockets, she figured it had something to do with that. Valencia didn't really understand what was so valuable about it; what were a few scraps of paper and some metals in comparison to useful things, like seeds and watering cans? And people were so selective about how much they were given. It had to be this many pieces of paper and that many coins, or they wouldn't accept trade with Vale. Sometimes she would give them a bill, and they would give her coins back, even though she wasn't offering them anything else. Milo had said that the "money" was valuable and that she should be careful using it, but it was too good of a deal to pass up when someone wanted to trade mulch for pieces of paper.
A pebble ricocheted off the back of her head, but Vale kept walking, albeit a little bit faster. This was the part of her trips that she had come to hate: passing the playground. The world was strange and new in general, but she had quickly come to realize that all "boys" were the same. Other than Milo, of course, but he wasn't like them. He was awkward, nice, and grown-up, opposite the rowdy and annoying kids on the playground. They called out for her, but she kept stalking forward. If she ignored them long enough they would eventually tire of teasing her. Vale held her head high as she strode past the playground, attempting to keep her thoughts busy with fluffy white clouds. This was the first time they had ever thrown a rock at her. Usually they stuck to verbal insults, mostly about her hair color or fashion sense. These things didn't bother Valencia. Milo had promised her that she wasn't ugly or weird, and she believed him, for the most part. "Hey blue-brains, what've you got there?" one of the boys yelled, waving his arm in the air in an attempt to catch her attention. This started a chain of insults, each boy trying to be more creative then the last. They each had their own nickname for her, none of which were flattering. It wasn't like she had done anything to deserve their taunts... at least, that she remembered. The young girl tried to think of something she'd done to offend them, but the boys' shouts made pondering difficult. Their vivacious screams of nasty words grew louder by the second. Vale's fingertips dug into her bag of mulch. "I bet even your parents don't wanna look at you!" Shouted one of the more rowdy boys. At first the comment bounced off, but Vale realized she didn't understand it. Not that she usually understood the boys; who even said "blue-brains"? Hesitating, Valencia inclined her head toward them. She put on her toughest face and narrowed her aqua eyes in their direction. "What's a 'parents'?" she asked, trying to sound threatening. The boys erupted into a fit of laughter. "Your mom and dad, stupid!" Vale intensified her glare, feeling an embarrassed throb in her chest.
Pouting her lips slightly, she tried to think of what they could mean. Valencia had heard the word "dad" before, but had never asked its definition. It was annoying when she had to learn things other people seemed to find simple. Knowing the boys weren't the right people to ask, she hurried on her way again, and they returned to shouting obscenities after her. Sometimes they thought it was fun to chase her, so Vale kept at a fast jogging pace until she was sure they were long gone. Free of her daily tormentors for the moment, Valencia began to wonder again about the definition of 'parents'. Milo's word book should know, she concluded, rounding the corner. The businessman had been unable to answer all of Valencia's questions, so he had bought a dictionary for the young girl. After a brief explanation of how to use it, Milo had gone back to work, relieved of her curious inquiries. Most of the words were beyond Valencia’s capability to read, but the simpler ones helped her understand, most of the time.
When the apartment was in sight, the young girl started up again at a slow jog. Milo had left her with an oddly shaped piece of metal that opened and closed the door. Vale reached into her pocket as she pushed open the door to the reception area, feeling past the wad of money and seeds. ”Good afternoon,” the receptionist said, barely getting the words in as the girl raced toward the stairs. Valencia’s fingertips found the key, and she pulled it out just as she reached the top floor. There were a lot of stairs from the reception area to the forth floor, but it was a short distance compared to walking to the flower shop. Fumbling a bit, Valencia tried shoving the notched metal piece into the doorknob, succeeding on her fourth try. With a prod she pushed the door open and strode inside. It smelt like cinnamon, smoke (Milo had resolved to not smoke inside now that Vale was in his life, but the scent still lingered here and there), and a bit like soil, although it was mainly wafting out of Valencia’s room. Amélie was sleeping soundly on the sofa, dozing the day away as usual. Balancing against the wall, the blue-haired girl wiggled a finger into the heels of her shoes, pulling them off. After kicking them into a corner, she gripped her bag of mulch and ran barefoot to her room. The lush carpet felt nice against her feet, and when Valencia reached her room she curled her toes into it. Her room was large and empty, aside from the multitude of potted plant ingredients clustered under the window.
Valencia wanted to start planting right away, but the word parents was stuck in her head. Humming, she padded to her bookshelf. With a little wiggling the girl freed the dictionary from between two children’s books Milo had bought for her. Vale jumped onto her bubble-pattern bedspread and rolled onto her stomach, laying the dictionary on the bed. She poked her finger into one of the tabs cut into the pages, and flipped open to the “E” words. The girl narrowed her eyes a bit. ”Parents, pair-ents, puh, puh... P,” she sounded out, lolling the sound on her tongue. Trying to remember where “P” was in the alphabet, Valencia flipped quickly through pages upon pages of words. She arrived finally at the correct section, and began to sift through the text.
Milo sighed on the way up the stairs, rubbing his temple to fend off the start of a headache. It had been a trying day at work; one of the accountants had unknowingly created an error in the sales numbers, and only Milo had caught it. The rest of the day had been spent explaining repeatedly what the problem was. No one seemed to understand what had gone wrong, but he had needed the CEO’s permission in order to fix the issue, so it had been necessary to clarify. When the message finally got across, and the CEO signed his permission, the day had ended. It left Miles with the duty to repair the problem off the clock. His mind trailed to more pleasant thoughts than work as he reached the door- like what he would make for dinner, and how clean Valencia had kept the carpet today. Smiling, Milo dug in his pocket for his keys, wrapping his hand around the doorknob. It gave a little, and the hand in his pocket hesitated. She left the door unlocked again, he deduced, proving his hypothesis by turning the knob a full rotation. Vale tried to be a responsible girl, but she was easily distracted and forgetful, especially during midday. In the morning and during the night she was sharp as a tack. But when the sun was high in the sky, her mood seemed to diminish in the slightest degree. Deciding not to pester her about it today, Milo pushed open the door.
If he hadn’t dropped his briefcase in order to catch the girl, she would have soared straight past him and down the stairs. Eyes wide, Milo stood in shock for a moment, gripping Valencia tightly in his arms. ”Milo!” she exclaimed happily, squirming in his hold. He stood silently, with a slightly dumbfounded expression. Valencia frowned and gently slapped at his face. Blinking, Milo emerged from his delirium to look at her. ”Don’t do that,” he reprimanded breathlessly. ”If you’d missed, you’d have tumbled right down the stairs.” Valencia looked at him with a gleam in her eyes, her mouth spread into a broad smile. ”I didn’t miss,” she said in a prideful tone. Concerned but too tired to argue, Milo sighed and shifted her like a baby into one arm. Valencia was tiny compared to the toned six-foot frame of Milo, so her meager weight fit easily in the cradle of his elbow. She held onto him as he bent to retrieve the discarded suitcase. ”Soooo,” Valencia hummed, ”I bought mulch today. Will you help me pot the seeds?” She wriggled excitedly as he closed the door behind them, hope rising up at the prospect. Looking up at her guardian with sparkling blue eyes, Valencia put on the ‘cute’ face that Milo seemed to always say yes to. The brunette made a considerate humming sound in his throat, padding into the room to set the briefcase on a glass coffee table. He had to do work at home tonight... there was really no time to pot plants, much less sleep.
”Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” he said with a smile, shifting to set the girl on her feet. She squeaked loudly in delight and almost started to bounce, but Milo cut her off. ”But after dinner.” Valencia hesitated, wanting to start right away, but her stomach turned at the thought of food. ”Okay,” she muttered, somewhat reluctantly. Milo shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over the sofa, teal eyes on the kitchen. ”What would you like tonight?” he asked, smiling toward Valencia. ”An omelet,” she replied with near frightening speed. Being an early bird, Vale had developed an affinity for breakfast foods. She love anything that had to do with mornings: waffles, pancakes, omelets, toast, pastries, everything. When Milo stepped into the kitchen, Valencia let her face fall to fit the mood she was really feeling. Frowning, she watched Amélie’s ears twitch in her sleep. The dictionary had said that ‘parents’ were one’s ‘father’ and ‘mother’, which Vale had promptly looked up. After flipping through the book of words, Valencia had vaguely grasped the meaning. She was supposed to have a mother and a father, but instead there was Milo. But it seemed like he could be her ‘father’... although the man didn’t seem to act the way the dictionary described.
She noticed too late that Milo’s eyes were on her. Blinking, the girl smiled hesitantly at him. The businessman smiled in return and went back to breaking eggs, deeply troubled by the sight of Valencia frowning. This wasn’t the right time to ask, but Milo was eager to find out what had happened. Did I say something wrong? he thought, poking the sizzling eggs with a spatula. Meanwhile, Valencia drew her knees to her chest and rested her chin on them in thought. The boys had teased that even her parents didn’t want to look at her. Is that why I have Milo instead of a mother and father? she wondered, frowning. Vale drew a lock of hair between her fingers and stared at it. After playing with the ends a bit, she turned her attention to her clothes- or rather, Milo’s. He was her father, right? He had to be. Valencia was so caught in her thoughts that she failed to notice even when Milo waved the steaming plate right in front of her. ”Valencia,” he murmured, kneeling in front of her with a concerned expression. She twitched and blinked out of her haze. Without meeting the concerned teal eyes that were boring holes in her head, she accepted the plate and poked her fork in. Worried, Milo moved to sit next to her on the sofa.
”Vale,” he said in the lightest, most unassuming tone he could muster, ”You seem a little down.” Silence was his only reply, aside from the metal clink of her fork poking against the plate. Milo shifted uneasily on the sofa. This was completely new ground; he didn’t know how to act in this sort of situation. ”Do you want to talk about it?” he prompted, unsure of another way to proceed. The young girl hovered her fork over the omelet, eyes downcast. ”No,” she replied quietly. Milo felt his heart sink a bit. Am I supposed to keep asking? he thought nervously. Unable to think of an appropriate way to continue, the brunette averted his eyes and watched the far wall. ”I’ll… go start getting ready to plant,” he offered, trying to break some of the tense silence. Valencia grunted and poked her fork into the remainder of a mutilated omelet. Without reprimanding her for it Milo rolled onto his feet. As he padded to her room, a weight pressed down upon him. He knew how much Vale had been looking forward to finally planting her flowers, but now that the time had come, she seemed too depressed to even care. When he opened the door to her room, Milo was almost too lost in thought to notice the dictionary lying on her bed. Teal eyes watched it for a moment, the pages fluttering back and forth in the breeze from the open window. Did that have something to do with it? he wondered, picking it up. There was no way of knowing what page Valencia had been looking at due to the wind, so he just closed it and repositioned it on her bookshelf.
With his mind spinning with possible reasons for his ward’s bad mood, Milo stared vacantly at the array of potting ingredients. There was a bit of dirt on the floor here and there, but he was used to cleaning up such things by now. Valencia didn’t even seem to be aware that she got soil on the carpet, and eventually Milo had just stopped pestering her about it. Sighing, the brunette began to roll up the sleeves of his perfectly ironed white dress shirt, knowing in the back of his mind that it wouldn’t save him from inevitable dirt stains. In the meantime Valencia had finished her omelet, and dumped her plate carelessly in the sink for Milo to take care of. She didn’t really want to confront him again, but there was no place to go but back to her room. With averted eyes and a lowered head, Valencia trudged to her bedroom and slipped through the door. Milo was sitting with his back against a wall, thumbing through one of Vale’s potting books. He didn’t look up as she wandered in to sit next to a large ceramic pot. After a few moments, Milo set the book down and scooted over to her on his knees. The strained silence hadn’t released in the slightest, so Milo made another attempt at small talk. ”So, how do we start?” he asked, playing the fool in an attempt to coax Valencia into conversation. As if in thought, she drew her knees to her chest.
”First... we put the soil in the pots... dad.”
Milo’s eyebrows shot up and remained there for a disproportionate amount of time.
Valencia recoiled at his surprised stare, scooting back a couple feet defensively. ”W-What?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
After wrestling his face into submission, Milo glanced at her again, trying to hide his shock. Valencia had never called him anything but “Milo” before. ”I, uh, I was surprised that you already knew how to plant these things.”
The lie was so obvious that Vale would have laughed in a different situation. Milo seemed to know this, but refused to admit that he had been surprised by the word “dad”. Another silence fell over the duo, tenser than the last. They looked anywhere but at each other, each trying to think of something to say. For the first time in a long time, Valencia felt like running away, and maybe crying. She had said something wrong, and now Milo was acting weird. The blue-haired girl curled herself into a ball. Milo watched, desperately clutching at the words flying around his mind, trying to wrestle them into a sentence. Anything that would make Vale happier. Without knowing exactly what was wrong, nothing sounded right. Uneasy, Miles pushed his useless glasses up on his nose, watching her while pretending not to. The silence in the room was almost crushing the two of them. Almost shivering, Valencia scooted back across the carpet until her back was touching one of the sky-blue walls.
”I’m sorry, Milo,” she said in a half-whimper, ”I won’t call you that again.”
Realization hit Milo like a slap across the face with a brick. Shocked, he started to stutter out a number of sentences at once, resulting in a slurred jumble. Vale didn’t more, waiting for him to get his words together. Staring with a dumbstruck expression, he eventually managed out, ”W-What brought this on?”
Blue eyes darted to look at a pot. She didn’t really want to reiterate the story about the boys at the playground, but she owed Milo an explanation for springing “dad” on him. ”There were some boys at the playground,” she explained quietly, ”They said that my parents didn’t want to look at me, but I didn’t know what parents were, so I looked it up...”
Milo was beginning to understand now. He smiled a bit, sadly, knowing that Valencia must have been thinking hard on the subject for most of the day. Although Milo had tried to put it off for as long as possible, he knew this situation would arise, yet he hadn’t prepared for it. They weren’t really father and daughter. There was no way he could pass them off as such, either. Vale’s hair and eyes were blue; his eyes were teal, his hair brown. It might have worked while she was childishly oblivious, but eventually the girl would have learned more, and figured it out. Milo leaned back on his hands. It wasn’t like he could tell her she had a mother; it was common knowledge that Miles was without a partner of that sort. Lan Alietta floated into his mind, but Milo flushed red and shoved the thoughts from his conscious. He had to think of something to say to tell Valencia. Deciding it was best to work off the top of his head, Milo stood and joined the blue-haired girl at the wall. She flinched as he slid down next to her, but didn’t move away. ”Vale,” he murmured, wrapping an arm gently around her small shoulders. She was shivering slightly. Something twisted in Milo’s chest, sending a wave of pain from his heart to his fingertips. He didn’t know if she was cold or just upset, but he pulled her closer regardless. Valencia tried for a resilient, tough attitude, and attempted to pull away. Milo didn’t need to flex a muscle in order to keep her in place. The young girl glared at the hand on her shoulder, which stuck to her like a barnacle.
”We aren’t really father and daughter,” he started softly, wincing when Vale flinched at the words. Maybe thinking on his feet hadn’t been such a good idea. Milo cast his teal eyes toward the window, watching the horizon pull the sun down. It would be dark soon, and he didn’t want to tuck Valencia into bed with any sort of worry on her mind. Smiling nervously, he glanced down at the girl, who glared back. ”I said that wrong,” he admitted, scratching his head sheepishly with his free hand. The dust girl stared up at him with a mix of anger and pain. Milo averted his eyes to look at the potting ingredients. They weren’t related by blood, but how could he describe what they were? ”You and I...” he murmured, the gears in his mind spinning, ”You and I are flowers.”
Valencia gave him a look that would have made the most egotistical man feel insecure.
Milo tried to ignore her expression and blundered onward. ”What I mean is, well- flowers. Each one is different, right? Some grow tall, some stick close to the soil, some are flamboyant colors, some are dull. When flowers grow in nature, they tend to grow together, with their own type. That’s considered common, like... a child having a mom and dad. They look fine with their own type, so they go on that way. But sometimes, someone will come along and think, ‘that flower would be perfect with another kind’. So they pick that flower, then plant it in a pot with one it would fair better with.” Milo felt moderately stupid in his choice of metaphors, but smiled slightly at his young ward and didn’t let it show. ”That’s you and I. We’re planted in a pot together.”
Obviously thinking hard, Valencia’s eyes turned toward the carpet. ”So... I was picked? Me, specifically?” she asked hesitantly.
”Right,” Milo said, smiling, ”Because we’re so much better together than we were before.”
Without warning, Valencia dove into a hug. Milo wrapped his arms around her, wondering what she had deduced from his awful attempt at comparisons. As long as it had lifted her spirits, he didn’t need to know. With an uncharacteristically warm smile, Milo tightened the hug and let Vale bury her face in his shirt. He didn’t know what she was thinking, and he hoped that her fears had been alleviated, but this wasn’t the time to ask. Whatever problems arose in the future didn’t matter at the moment. Milo would help Valencia across those bridges as they came upon them. And for a moment, he found himself believing his own metaphor- they were stuck together in the same pot, to whatever end. Vale balled her hands in Milo’s previously unwrinkled shirt, dampening it with tears. She wasn’t crying because she was sad. More than anything she was happy, that she wasn’t odd or dull. And even if she was, Milo was there to compliment her. They were put in the same pot for a reason... and she wasn’t alone. It had been a stupid, cheesy metaphor, but for once Vale decided to let him off the hook and not mention it. When Milo was trying to be sentimental, it was okay. When they finally separated from the hug, Valencia ducked her head and sniffed, trying in vain to hide the obvious fact that she was crying. Milo just ruffled her hair and smiled knowingly. After a moment of comfortable silence, the brunette man glanced toward the potting materials.
”So, are you ready to get started?” he asked.
”I-I get to be the colorful ones,” Valencia demanded, though her voice betrayed her nervousness.
Milo blinked for a moment before understanding her meaning. A small grin crossed his face, and he handed her the more colorful flower seeds of the bunch. ”I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:06 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:07 pm
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Posted: Sat Mar 28, 2009 10:08 pm
 n e v e r l a n d -- xx did the graphics. : D
Cert and its art are by Tooaya and Seiaeka. ♥
Familiar art is by Naguri, cert by n e v e r l a n d -- xx
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