Welcome to Gaia! ::

Krishna was not at the front desk because he had retreated to the back room to grab a towel. His shirt was peeled off and draped over a chair to dry off, a sight which made him scowl even as he rubbed at his rainbow hair. He should be comforted by the fact that the rain was not snow--it was nearly cold enough for it. But it was scarcely a comfort when his clothes were completely soaked and his carefully arranged hair splashed out of place. Even if he succeeded in drying it, it wouold be overly fluffy and... it was just going to bother im all day,he knew it.

The ding of the bell on the door and the soft call from themain part of the store made him jerk to attention. A customer? So early? 'Of course....' Grumpy as he was, he could not afford to let any business pass him by, not when he still needed to finish up paying the repair bills for the shop. He would justhave to make the best out of a bad situation, which... honestly was nothing new. Nothing to be flustered over.

So, he draped the towel around his bare shoulders and stepped out into the shop. The florist was not the least bit self-concious about his bared chest, and his words were crisp and professional, "Welcome to Padma's Bouquet. How may I help you?"

During her speech, the florist continued to rub at his wet hair, but his eyes showed rapt attention. When she had asked her question, Krishna stopped his motions, once again draping the towel over his shoulders. With a nod and a crook of his finger, he motioned for the woman to follow, "My pleasure. This way."

He began walking slowly amongst the flowers, but pride was evident in his voice as he spoke, "Any of my plants would make a room look nice... but smell is another matter, particularly in winter. Pointsettas are popular this time of year, but have no scent." He motioned to the red flowers with a wave of his hand, but he passed them by. Clearly they were not his destination.

The area they stopped at had several different types of flowers, and he pointed to each that seemed relevant as he recited, "Currently, I have winter daphne, witchazel, and sweetbox, but they may have more of a limb appearance than you wish?" He turned his attention back to her, awaiting her answer.

The man nodded, brushing some wayward strands of rainbow hair back into place as he listened to her decision. Yes, too limby--he had suspected as much. He, personally, found the wooden boughs easy enough to cover in a bouquet and liked the natural quality they brought--and he said as much. "Pity. They offer a natural, and unique, look." Still, he moved towards the other flowers. If she had more pedestrian tastes, then it could not be helped.

He motioned to some different, more familiar blooms, indicating each with a slight nod of his hand, "Roses are typically popular, and I have them in many colors. The narcissus is lovely this year, and I have many fine carnations. Do any of these meet your needs?"

Krishna saw her 'hmph' and raised her an eyebrow in return, folding his arms over his chest as she hovered over his carefully cultivated blooms. If she wanted a priss off contest, he could oblige. His feathers only really became ruffled at her insinuation that he could not do his job, and his tone became clipped, "I never 'jumble up' my flowers. Ever."

He left her side long enough to pull on his work gloves and grab his garden cutters. Moving around his customer, he quickly and efficiently snipped five red, five white, and three white with red trim along the edges of its blossoms. These he held onto easily enough, moving over to the boquet making table. He did not ask if the colors were acceptable; they met all of her requests. Instead, he asked, "Vase or paper and ribbon?"

Krishna returned the grin with a humph, moving over to the glass vases with an unquestionable air of confidence. "I do." Without another word he set to his work. First, he set the flowers down on the table and snipped the stemps with a pair of scissors. Next, he pulled a tall, but relatively thin, fluted vase with a slight wave on the lip from beneath the table. After checking the size of the stems for length, he moved away from the table long enough to half-fill the vase with water.

The florist carefully placed the now filled vessel on the table, a frown of concentration on his face as he began to place each individual flower. He clustered the bi-colored blooms in the center before radiating an alternating pattern of white and red. The curve of the lip perfectly matched the ribboning edge of the flowers. The milky green coloring of the glass softened the stark green of the stems, making it appear as though the carnations were rising from a puff of seafoam. At least, that is what Krishna thought. He did not adorn it with a ribbon or anything else, but slid it across the table to her. "Finished. If you'll follow me to the register?"

If she wanted anything different, it was 'speak now or forever hold your peace' time.

Krishna savored his customer's silence. She seemed appropriately impressed by his skill, and that made up a bit for the percieved insult he had recieved earlier. With a nod he lead her to the cash register.

The florist rung up the purchase, his voice nothing but polite, "That will be $28.50, please."

Krishna did not even hesitate. He accepted the two twenty dollar bills and placed them in the appropriate places in the register. The extra amount he extracted from the til and placed in the tip jar that sat beside his counter. Her obvious pleasure at his decision made him give a smug grin. Still, let it not be said he was ungracious, as he bowed his head to accept the compliment. In truth, the words meant more to him than the money. "I thought they would please you. Do come again."