- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- One post per day
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Writing Levels
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Preferred Character Gender
- No Preferences
- Genres
- Urban Fantasy, High Fantasy, Epic Quest, Sci-Fi, Time Travel and World Hopping, Steampunk, Action/Adventure, Modern Drama, Mystery, Slice of Life, Romance, and many more.
THE OOC IS HERE:
http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/showthread.php?t=8904
A breeze, cold from the north, twisted through the town of Dewdrop Valley, creating a stir of dust off the cobblestone streets.
Lucy Greene, the local florist, used her apron to brush the newly raised offence off of one of the clay flowerpots outside the shop. Having done this, she looked down the street in both directions, and then leaned over to grab a stone from the doorway that was a little bigger than her closed fist. She used it to prop the door open.
On both sides of the door, fresh flowers bloomed in bouquets; lilies, roses, moondrops - the local variety - goddess blossoms, even plain daisies were bunched with baby's breath, tied with ribbons and set in pots with nearly black soil, or in clear glass vases, perhaps with some colored pebbles in the bottoms.
All of the plants were grown locally; most of them in Lucy's own garden, which was conveniently only seven minutes walking from the shop; her house faced the centre of the town, and its unfenced backyard was unhedged by other streets or buildings, and was carefully tended every morning and evening by the shopkeeper herself. Five minutes further from the house, was a gravestone under an oak tree, thirty-seconds over from the next grave-stone, which read 'Bronwyn Greene, Daughter, Sister, Dearly Missed Friend.' That grave always had flowers on it.
Lucy had inherited the shop from her sister, who shared her love of gardening, but not of the city. In reverence for her departed siblings wishes, Lucy had dropped her classes in herbology in the next city over, and moved to Dewdrop Valley to take over Greene Blooms not quite three months ago. The business had grown quite successful under Brownyn's care, and while adjusting to the lower local-sales and the greater exports had taken some difficulty, the place was now plodding along at a pleasant rate.
Dusting her hands on the apron rather than the skirt of her pale blue sundress, Lucy brushed her brown curls back from her face, fishing in one pocket for a string or ribbon to tie her hair back with. Looked like another slow news day.
Turning around, she kicked the stone she had just placed away from the door, and pulled the 'out to lunch, back in 30 minutes' sign out from the windowsill, hanging it on the door, she whipped her curls into a pony-tail as she headed down the block to the local cafe
http://www.iwakuroleplay.com/showthread.php?t=8904
A breeze, cold from the north, twisted through the town of Dewdrop Valley, creating a stir of dust off the cobblestone streets.
Lucy Greene, the local florist, used her apron to brush the newly raised offence off of one of the clay flowerpots outside the shop. Having done this, she looked down the street in both directions, and then leaned over to grab a stone from the doorway that was a little bigger than her closed fist. She used it to prop the door open.
On both sides of the door, fresh flowers bloomed in bouquets; lilies, roses, moondrops - the local variety - goddess blossoms, even plain daisies were bunched with baby's breath, tied with ribbons and set in pots with nearly black soil, or in clear glass vases, perhaps with some colored pebbles in the bottoms.
All of the plants were grown locally; most of them in Lucy's own garden, which was conveniently only seven minutes walking from the shop; her house faced the centre of the town, and its unfenced backyard was unhedged by other streets or buildings, and was carefully tended every morning and evening by the shopkeeper herself. Five minutes further from the house, was a gravestone under an oak tree, thirty-seconds over from the next grave-stone, which read 'Bronwyn Greene, Daughter, Sister, Dearly Missed Friend.' That grave always had flowers on it.
Lucy had inherited the shop from her sister, who shared her love of gardening, but not of the city. In reverence for her departed siblings wishes, Lucy had dropped her classes in herbology in the next city over, and moved to Dewdrop Valley to take over Greene Blooms not quite three months ago. The business had grown quite successful under Brownyn's care, and while adjusting to the lower local-sales and the greater exports had taken some difficulty, the place was now plodding along at a pleasant rate.
Dusting her hands on the apron rather than the skirt of her pale blue sundress, Lucy brushed her brown curls back from her face, fishing in one pocket for a string or ribbon to tie her hair back with. Looked like another slow news day.
Turning around, she kicked the stone she had just placed away from the door, and pulled the 'out to lunch, back in 30 minutes' sign out from the windowsill, hanging it on the door, she whipped her curls into a pony-tail as she headed down the block to the local cafe