honey & lavender [pav+rii]

[PavellumPendulum]

It wasn't every day that you received a strange letter in the mail from a man with so much money that he couldn't fit it all under his mattress. Or two mattresses. Or three. Or even more. Briar couldn't even remember the last time that he ever had enough money to cover more than his rent for the next month or two, so really, it was someone living in a completely different world from him contacting him. Truthfully, he'd had enough of Nigerian prince scams, MLMs and pyramid schemes, shady friends from high school trying to rope acquaintances into their failing attempts at venture capitalism... Being as soft as he was, he'd sworn off of dreaming so ambitiously and believing what he was told so wholeheartedly. But every day after he'd received that letter, heavy in its gold foil embellished envelope, it burned a hole in his desk, begging for him to stare at its neatly inked contents once more.

And so Briar Spriggs found himself at the Bancroft Manor, gift tucked under his arm, meticulously wrapped in painted slips of newspaper and tied together with a ribbon made of braided yarn. Without missing a beat, he'd been guided to his own room by maids and butlers, provided with a deep violet mask, stalks of lavender painted across the cheeks and grasping up at his forehead. It felt cool against his skin, the violet pin against his chest pulling at the fabric of thrifted white dress shirt, embroidered with tiny lines of green ivy, one of the nicest things he currently owned clothing-wise. The flower pin was so glossy it almost looked wet, golden accents glittering in the light. He had to find someone with the same pin, the person who would receive the gift that he'd so carefully prepared.

He felt himself working up a sweat after exciting his room, adjusting his warm blonde hair with his fingers, feeling it fall in gentle waves around his face. Flower clips, little cute ones he'd found at the dollar store, kept his bangs out of his green eyes as they searched through the already full hallways, the sound of a full live orchestra bouncing around the tall ceilings and pristine glass windows. The chatter was unavoidable, filling his ears as his eyes flicked from person to person, searching for his matching violet in the crowd.

He was quite sure what he was expecting. A new friend? A new connection? A sense of accomplishment? A distraction?

He chewed on his lips, tasting his vanilla flavoured lip gloss. Where was his match?

@riise

 

[ino.]

Waking up to find yourself on the receiving end of a large sum of money was something one only heard of on tv or in the news, never would an average person be blessed with such a gift so randomly - or at least that's what Sena had been telling herself every day of her life once learning the value of money, for the majority people had to spend multiple hours a day working to take home minimum wage and only pray there was enough to keep them on their feet.

Hence why her surprise when she stepped into her room to find an envelope with her name neatly inked on waiting for her upon her mattress. It was already uncommon enough for her to get mail - save for the odd package that was ordered every now and again, but nothing ever arrived looking this fancy. Slender fingers moving to pick up the envelope to ensure it was indeed meant for her before taking in a breath and finally pulling the flap open, auburn gaze skimming over the hand written note slowly and carefully, having to take the time to reread it two, three - four times to ensure the words were truly getting through to her.

And that was how Sena Blythe had found herself in her current surroundings, still finding it hard to process the fact that she was currently swarmed with a multitude of people, two braiding her hair and pinning it into an up do, one with an extra steady hand adding floral markings with paint onto her lightly tanned complexion, followed by a third reaching out to remove her round glasses to instead affix a mask in front of her eyes. It felt as if as soon as she was brought into the room, she was pushed out just as quickly, lightly shaking hands holding onto a rather small wrapped box - it was quite hard to find a gift in such a short amount of time, especially one that was being given to an individual she had never met in her life.

The goal was easy, find another with the same pin as her, her own flower pinned atop a light beige shirt complimented with hand sewn ruffles around the neckline and sleeves. Free hand reaching up to her newly styled hair to ensure everything was in place, perhaps also to nervously pull at a few strands. Without her glasses it was quite hard to see what was in the distance, especially with so many people already filling the rather large room. Deciding it would be best [and most out of the way of those who did find their partners], Sena began walking slowly around the outer corners of the room, having to squint slightly to study the pins affixed to the differing articles of clothing.

This would be much harder than she had first thought...

It was common for so many people being in one space to become tiring to someone who wasn't used to it, leading Sena to lean her back against one of the marble walls, humming in relief as the cold material soothed her skin. Reaching a few fingers under the mask to wipe away the few droplets of sweat that had accumulated, eyes lazily still darting around the crowd, having to pause a moment and process her sight.

Surely enough, only a mere few steps away was a pin the same as hers affixed to what appeared to be a young mans shirt. Who would have thought it was as easy as staying against the wall and keeping an eye out? Using the hand that wasn't gripped around the gift to push back up against the wall, the woman cleared her throat upon bringing herself before her match.
"Excuse me, it appears you're the person I've been looking for." Offering the best smile she could with the mask still covering her face, Sena dipped in a curtsey, trying to hold back her own thoughts of how ridiculous she must look - why was she acting as though she were some kind of princess in a movie?​

 

[PavellumPendulum]

Her mask matched his, as did her pin. Even with her face half covered with handpainted lavender stalks, hair intricately pinned into some sort of elaborate updo, he could feel that same nervous energy that he had emanating from her when she approached him. He found himself almost giggling in an embarrassed fashion at her deep curtsy and soft smile, before he mimicked her with an equally as deep bow, face warming underneath his mask. To the lavender petals, it must have felt like the summer heat had suddenly returned. "It seems I am, miss..." he trailed off, eyes searching her face, as if to ask her name. He wasn't sure what the proper decorum or etiquette was here, if he was even allowed to know such things about her when he wasn't even allowed to see her full face...

Still, he pressed forwards, attempting to make a good impression as he stood up properly. "I'm Briar. This is... For you."

The blonde extended his gift to her, the reused newspaper crinkling under his touch, looking a bit more rustic and cheap than homey when surrounded by their lavish surroundings. Though they'd given him money for the gift, he'd never liked fancy plastic gift wrap or ribbons. He found it both more representative of his values and kinder to the Earth if he used what he already had, things that could decompose a little quicker and give back to the dirt. What mattered more was what was inside, yes?

He gestured down a side hallway, one that was a little less populated, sensing that they both might be a bit more at ease without such a crowd breathing down their necks. "Shall we?" In quite the moment of spontaneous chivalry, he held out his arm for her to hold, assuming it was the appropriate thing to do, before faltering slightly, not wanting to be too presumptuous. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself... Even if they were at such a luxurious party, united by the same strange letter, he did not want to come off as creepy or opportunistic, getting too lost in the fantasy of being more important than he actually was.