Myrobalan Shivana (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faithlikeaseed) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
middaeg2020-03-07 11:22 pm
faithlikeaseed) wrote in middaeg2020-03-07 11:22 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN/CATCH-ALL] merrily merrily,
Who: Myr & OPEN!
When: waves hands vaguely at the month
Where: variously Dorch & Aefenglom
What: some very domestic activities for a faun & eventual catch-all prompts in comments
Warnings: rated B for being COVERED IN BEES
At the Chimera's behest (Dorchacht, early in the month)
i.
"D'you think it needs more bay leaf?"
Having heard that Caren was seeking new pastries to offer Dorchacht's enigmatic black Dragon, Myr's elected to make a go at expanding his own culinary talents. Libum and savillum were the easiest sweet treats he knew, and even if he didn't exactly remember the recipe from last time he'd made either (under Vandelin's watchful eye), they couldn't be that hard to reconstruct, could they? Soft sweet cheese, flour, honey, bay leaves, mix them up and pat them into cakes and bake them, what could go wrong?
A lot of things, it turns out. Starting with them falling apart because he'd used the wrong sort of cheese, and ending Maker only knows where because he hasn't given up on perfecting the things yet. His Bonded and dearest friends have all been lavished with cakes of varying degrees of success; and now he's brought the whole enterprise to Caren's house in Dorchacht to distribute as snacks to all and sundry in hopes of feedback.
So go on, take one. And let him know whether he's put in enough bay leaves this time. (Or, if the idea of a dessert with bay leaves is too alarming, there's another plate of cakes studded with poppyseeds he's been reserving. Not like he'd see if someone snuck one...)
ii.
Myr's time at the Sweet Chimera house isn't all or mostly spent on giving away extra cheesecake; he's here to teach, too. The Coven's recent burst of gardening classes is an inspiration, though it's not potion ingredients he'd teach people to grow--it's food.
Little urban gardens, from his father's in the alienage to the vegetable beds in Hasmal Circle that fell to Myr's care after the uprising, have saved Myr more than once from starving. He's every intention of passing that gift on to as many who'll learn it.
Today he's got a handful of curious Monsters and two starveling humans in attendance as he demonstrates how to pot up zucchini seedlings. The pots he's using are almost comically large for the little plants--something he explains, cheerily: "Don't leave these near anything you don't want covered in vines and marrows. They'll take over your house if you give them an inch."
He's always quick and eager to invite newcomers in, ears swiveling to track the sounds of footsteps or breathing, a bright smile on his face. "Want a pot of your own to take home? They might overrun everything you love but you can't starve with one around."
Oh, for a bee's experience, of clovers and of noon! (Aefenglom, post full-moon)
i.
After another exhausting adventure beneath the full moons, there's nothing so much Myr would like to do as collapse in his own bed a few hours (maybe with company) and then spend the rest of the day working his garden.
He does not even get to his front door before his plans are derailed. By, of all things, one of his beehive's scouts come floating around the cottage on the freshening breeze. Seeing a likely place to stop, she lands on the knuckles of Myr's staff-hand--
And he stops dead in his tracks, ears up and tail flagging with alarm. "Who's there?" he asks, for surely someone snuck up on him, someone with a very small voice who wants to tell him all about flowers and the weather and her pollen harvest...
Oh. Oh.
His staff clatters to the ground. He sits down heavily right there in the street outside the cottage he shares with Caster and Archer, cradling the bee like she's a precious gem. (Which she is.) "I can hear you," he says wonderingly, not caring who might overhear him talking to an insect. "Maker's breath-- After all this time, I can hear you."
He might just cry from the joy--and relief--of finally having magic again.
ii.
If the thoughts of one bee are a treasure, talking to his whole hive is a dragon's hoard, a superabundance of gifts. He'd already loved them--why else struggle as he had to keep them?--and they trusted him, so it's no surprise they're instant friends as soon as they can understand each other.
What's a little more surprising--for outsiders, anyway--is how at least a third of the hive decides to sit on him while they commune and he experiments delightedly with his newfound plant magic. He'd been quick to shed his shirt to give the bees more places to crawl that wouldn't catch them in a fold of fabric--what reason now has he got to fear stings?--though they're mostly festooning his antlers to avoid too much jostling as he works. It makes for a uniquely pastoral sight: A muscular Faun, stripped to his waist, up to his elbows in dirt and covered in bees as he encourages blossoming bee-balm to spring up through the soil.
The bees had requested it, after all. And there was plenty of room in the front garden to grow more.
(OOC: If none of these suit or we've discussed other plans, hit me up via PM or Discord--Plagueheart#0051--and I can add a prompt! Myr is also on the Hungry Grass and Strae quests for the month.)
When: waves hands vaguely at the month
Where: variously Dorch & Aefenglom
What: some very domestic activities for a faun & eventual catch-all prompts in comments
Warnings: rated B for being COVERED IN BEES
At the Chimera's behest (Dorchacht, early in the month)
i.
"D'you think it needs more bay leaf?"
Having heard that Caren was seeking new pastries to offer Dorchacht's enigmatic black Dragon, Myr's elected to make a go at expanding his own culinary talents. Libum and savillum were the easiest sweet treats he knew, and even if he didn't exactly remember the recipe from last time he'd made either (under Vandelin's watchful eye), they couldn't be that hard to reconstruct, could they? Soft sweet cheese, flour, honey, bay leaves, mix them up and pat them into cakes and bake them, what could go wrong?
A lot of things, it turns out. Starting with them falling apart because he'd used the wrong sort of cheese, and ending Maker only knows where because he hasn't given up on perfecting the things yet. His Bonded and dearest friends have all been lavished with cakes of varying degrees of success; and now he's brought the whole enterprise to Caren's house in Dorchacht to distribute as snacks to all and sundry in hopes of feedback.
So go on, take one. And let him know whether he's put in enough bay leaves this time. (Or, if the idea of a dessert with bay leaves is too alarming, there's another plate of cakes studded with poppyseeds he's been reserving. Not like he'd see if someone snuck one...)
ii.
Myr's time at the Sweet Chimera house isn't all or mostly spent on giving away extra cheesecake; he's here to teach, too. The Coven's recent burst of gardening classes is an inspiration, though it's not potion ingredients he'd teach people to grow--it's food.
Little urban gardens, from his father's in the alienage to the vegetable beds in Hasmal Circle that fell to Myr's care after the uprising, have saved Myr more than once from starving. He's every intention of passing that gift on to as many who'll learn it.
Today he's got a handful of curious Monsters and two starveling humans in attendance as he demonstrates how to pot up zucchini seedlings. The pots he's using are almost comically large for the little plants--something he explains, cheerily: "Don't leave these near anything you don't want covered in vines and marrows. They'll take over your house if you give them an inch."
He's always quick and eager to invite newcomers in, ears swiveling to track the sounds of footsteps or breathing, a bright smile on his face. "Want a pot of your own to take home? They might overrun everything you love but you can't starve with one around."
Oh, for a bee's experience, of clovers and of noon! (Aefenglom, post full-moon)
i.
After another exhausting adventure beneath the full moons, there's nothing so much Myr would like to do as collapse in his own bed a few hours (maybe with company) and then spend the rest of the day working his garden.
He does not even get to his front door before his plans are derailed. By, of all things, one of his beehive's scouts come floating around the cottage on the freshening breeze. Seeing a likely place to stop, she lands on the knuckles of Myr's staff-hand--
And he stops dead in his tracks, ears up and tail flagging with alarm. "Who's there?" he asks, for surely someone snuck up on him, someone with a very small voice who wants to tell him all about flowers and the weather and her pollen harvest...
Oh. Oh.
His staff clatters to the ground. He sits down heavily right there in the street outside the cottage he shares with Caster and Archer, cradling the bee like she's a precious gem. (Which she is.) "I can hear you," he says wonderingly, not caring who might overhear him talking to an insect. "Maker's breath-- After all this time, I can hear you."
He might just cry from the joy--and relief--of finally having magic again.
ii.
If the thoughts of one bee are a treasure, talking to his whole hive is a dragon's hoard, a superabundance of gifts. He'd already loved them--why else struggle as he had to keep them?--and they trusted him, so it's no surprise they're instant friends as soon as they can understand each other.
What's a little more surprising--for outsiders, anyway--is how at least a third of the hive decides to sit on him while they commune and he experiments delightedly with his newfound plant magic. He'd been quick to shed his shirt to give the bees more places to crawl that wouldn't catch them in a fold of fabric--what reason now has he got to fear stings?--though they're mostly festooning his antlers to avoid too much jostling as he works. It makes for a uniquely pastoral sight: A muscular Faun, stripped to his waist, up to his elbows in dirt and covered in bees as he encourages blossoming bee-balm to spring up through the soil.
The bees had requested it, after all. And there was plenty of room in the front garden to grow more.
(OOC: If none of these suit or we've discussed other plans, hit me up via PM or Discord--Plagueheart#0051--and I can add a prompt! Myr is also on the Hungry Grass and Strae quests for the month.)