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Page name: Flouresce - Scout [Logged in view] [RSS]
2009-06-17 20:08:33
Last author: Ramirez
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Flouresce - Scout


Good Bond


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It wasn’t often that the Academy was closed so abruptly. However, the intense rainfall had turned many of the dirt trails leading into the city into calf-deep muddy rivers. Supplies in the city had begun to dwindle and the Academy had decided it could no longer continue to stay open on such a short budget. So for the next four days the Academy would be closed for sure—and the administration could only pray that the rain would stop and the roads would be able to reopen. The students, for the most part, didn’t seem to mind the short-notice vacation.

Then again, neither did a majority of the Professors.

Scout grinned wickedly out at the steady drizzle outside his home and for a moment quietly thanked the goddesses for the excess rain. Sure, the city was running low on supplies, but nothing life-threatening. Just a few nobles would have to go without roast duck or expensive wine for a few days. And he, the Philosophy professor would be allowed to finally take a well-deserved fishing day. No amount of pounding rain could bother him. He was part water nymph after all.

Scout sat down on a low bench by the door and began to pull on his boots. They were caked with mud—then again, that wasn’t so unusual. Most of the city was cobble-stone, but he did good deal of trucking over grass, which had mostly turned to what seemed like a marsh, but, oh well, in the long run the flowers would bloom and the talk of ‘inconvenient’ rain would die away and turn to murmurs of approval.

Scout finally finished tying his boots and stood, reaching over for his dark blue cloak. He pulled it over his shoulders and briefly remembered the time when Vyse and he had picked out their own travel cloaks. Kaelin had taken them and after a moment of fussing over the potential dangerous travels the two were (knowing them) going to get into, he finally, with a resigned sigh only a worried father could produce, he purchased the cloaks for them.

Vyse’s cloak was merely tattered trails at the ends, but Scout seemed to have taken more care for his. It still provided him a decent amount of protection against the elements. Scout was pretty sure Vyse would be wearing that cloak when he met up with him in a few minutes.

Scout stood and lifted up a belt packed with all types of fishing lures and line—most of which he had made himself along with Miles who was always eager to learn new trades. He was particularly fond of a well-worn wooden lure in the shape of a yellow perch. It had been Miles’ best work and a gift to Scout. Scout was pleased to say that the lure had landed him some pretty nice fish.

The blue-haired man grabbed his fishing pole and tugged his cloaks hood over his head and with a hop in his step opened the door and greeted the rain with a sigh of appreciation. He stepped outside and pulled the door closed by hooking his foot on the corner and then skipped down the front steps, across the squishy lawn and out onto the cobblestone street.

There were very few people around, and that didn’t really surprise him. Most people seemed to not enjoy the wet-dog look. Scout never really minded.

As he made his way down the street he noticed a woman sitting on one of the benches, legs crossed and an umbrella resting on her shoulders. It took him a moment…

And when he recognized her he laughed. It was Flouresce—dressed in what appeared to be freshly bought hiking boots, a pair of black trousers and a gray tunic topped with a pretty dark green cloak. Flouresce never wore anything outside of cutsie or professional. It was utterly confusing (and rather amusing) to see her dressed in such clothes. He was even a little surprised to see she had her own fishing pole sitting beside her.

He came to a stop at her and with both eyebrows raised, stared down at her.

“Hey, Scout.” Flouresce greeted, grinning up at her little brother. Scout nodded his head and mocked tipping an invisible hat towards her respectfully. “Vyse is having a pissy day and told me I should take his place. Surely he was being sarcastic as hell, but I figured he probably wouldn’t have shown up either way,” Scout shrugged at this, Vyse often blew him off but it was just how the green-haired man was, “but I decided, hell, why not. The Academy is closed, my paperwork’s all caught up… A nice trip to the lake couldn’t hurt me.”

“Do you even know how to fish?” Scout asked, laughing. He didn’t mind that the red-haired woman wanted to accompany him. It was good for the city girl to get a little country in her. It would do her some good.

Flouresce snorted, “Fish? Of course not. Uncle Ankei tried to bring me along on a fishing trip with Jin and Shuichi once when we were kids… but you know how I am. I’d rather not smell of fish and worms.”

“And today’ll be different? Come on, on your feet. We can walk and talk.” Scout motioned for her to follow and she did. Flouresce may be downgraded to plain old garments, but the way she walked—with that underlying grace and feminine appeal still seemed to follow her. Scout shook his head—Flouresce would always be Flouresce, no matter what she was wearing.

“Well. Now that I’m older, I’d like to think I’m a little smarter. You put the bait on, I catch the fish, you take the fish off. Repeat.” 

Scout laughed, hard. “Oh, is that so?”

Flouresce grinned, adjusting the fancy umbrella over her shoulder and the little white beads that dangled on the edges danced like little water droplets. Besides the fancy way she had dressed up her hair, the umbrella seemed to be the only thing on her that was expensive. A pampered city girl had to have a few luxuries, right?

With a chuckle, Scout shook his head. Yes… that sounded about right. Flouresce may try to humor him by throwing on what she thought was adequate fishing gear, but the girl would always have that upper-class flare and wit that only seemed charismatic because it was Flouresce.

In his mind, Flouresce was Flouresce, no matter what she wore.


[Ramirez]

A/N:Story bond 24/81 of a project I'm working on.

Holy $#@*. First my internet gave out when I submitted, and then Deviant had an internal error and so I kept losing my description for this. Now I don't even care to write it anymore.


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