splendid is the flower , landon

[bryna muldoon]

Light streamed in through the crack of her bedroom curtains. It was still that pale, early morning glow but it was still enough to rouse her from her sleep. Bryna had always been more of a morning person; she thought it best to get an early start and be refreshed throughout the middle of the day. Also, the earlier she awoke the earlier she could get to work. Opening her eyes, she peered around her room. It was the largest in the house and she knew it once belonged to her great-grandparents as well as her grandfather. It was now filled with her essence; paintings and dried frames of flowers lined the walls, and music sheets were scattered around her desk. Smiling she sighed and tossed the covers from her body. Since coming to Eventide, Bree had been having somewhat of a difficult time getting used to the ways things worked around the town and even the way the people worked. Eventide was a small enough town but even compared to her home it was nearly double in size. Sliding her legs off the bed she slowly stood before making her way to the adjoining bathroom. Even there it seemed herself mixed with her family of the past. The bathroom was relatively small, but still comfortable like the rest of the house. From what she’d heard Nordurljos Pass was one of the ‘newer’ settlements which was amazing to her, but still each home had their own individual feel to it. Turning the water on in the shower she hummed to herself and finished preparing for the day. Winter was closing in quickly and she had a day ahead of her so that her precious plants would make it through the harsh season.

Thirty minutes later Bryna was dressed in a loose white shirt, black pants and her gardening sneakers. Breakfast was simple enough – just a couple scrambled eggs and sausage with a cup of hot tea – and then she was ready to begin time out in the garden. Putting her dishes in the sink she gave them a quick rinse before heading to the back door just on the other side of the kitchen. Her hair had finished drying and she was ready for quick assault of cool air as she stepped outside. The sun was now higher in the sky and she lifted her face to the shining sun as its warmth rained down on her. Looking around she couldn’t help but smile. Only a little over a year ago the yard was patchy and filled with tossed items that the wind – or disrespectful kids – had thrown into the yard. Now it was clean and trimmed and filled with beautiful flower and a small green house tucked in the back corner of the fenced in area. Slowly striding through the small path she had greeted while planting she headed to the green house to get what she needed. Opening the door she inhaled as the fresh scent of mixed flowers and plants wafted towards her. She truly did love flowers. Walking inside she grabbed a small gardening shovel, some fertilizer and a couple empty pots and her pots of camellia sasanqua and hellbore roses. This she knew would not only make it through the cold but also stay beautiful while doing it – with only a little help from her. Juggling her supplies she headed to the spot where her summer and fall flowers would be dug up and stored in the green house until it was their time to blossom again. Quietly humming to herself she began to carefully dig down to the roots of her flowers before using her powers to gently have them shrink and unearth themselves the rest of the way. With a pot filled with a little fertilizer she gently scooped the plant out of the ground and used the dirt surrounding it along with a little more fertilizer to pack it into the small plot. Carefully examining it she clipped away some of the blossoms she could use around the house to downsize the plant. She repeated this process for about an hour and a half until her once empty pots were filled with the appropriate flowers.

Standing from her position she reached to the sky with dirt covered hands and worked out the kinks in her body. Now was the not so great part where she would have to lug the now filled pots back into the green house so that she could plant her sturdier flowers. Sighing, she once more juggled filled pots in her arms and walked once more towards the shed holding her breath nearly the entire way. Once safely inside and the pots intact on the counters she let her breath out. She was a klutz and she knew it and every time she made the same trip she had to practically pray that she wouldn’t drop something. Walking to the small prep area she grabbed a bottle of water she had stored with some of her flowers in a small fridge and held onto it as she rolled her shoulders and headed to the small area where she would plant her winter flowers. Taking a quick sip from the bottle she let out a content sigh before setting it aside. Grabbing the small shovel she began to sing to herself as she continued her work. Working the dirt she quickly made room for all of her flowers. Feeling at ease with the peaceful quiet around her, Bree listened to the surrounding area but could only her the soft sounds of birds and animals and the distant sound of the ocean. Before she even realized it she had lost her concentration and cut the palm of her hand. Dropping the shovel she let out a small scream and brought her hand to her chest. She could see the blood starting to seep out and she tried to close her fingers around it. “Damn it, damn it,” she muttered to herself between clenched teeth. She needed to quickly clean it so the dirt wouldn’t get into the wound and grabbed her bottle of water thankful she had left the cap off and held her hand out in front of her before gently pouring the water over it. With a small sting she carefully brushed away the dirt that stuck to the skin and took a better. “Oh God,” she breathed as she looked at the gash. Wasn’t that just her luck.

[/b][/color] ladon
word count:: one – zero – eight – one.
outfit:: click.
notes:: yay for flowers ! haha.
credit:: © moi[/size][/ul]

[landon daðason]

soundtrack

Landon drifted from the medical center into the cold, but clear air. He had helped set old Mrs. Guðmundsdóttir’s arm, which she had broken falling down her stairs. He had seen the red smudge of light on her arm before she had spoken a word. But the grimaced twist of her face didn’t make it hard to know what happened. He had worked with the doctor, mainly just holding the arm, administrating her medicine, and calming her. Little did the doctor know, Landon ebbed whatever coursed in his blood into her broken radius and ulna. ”That was the easiest bone I’ve had to set, Mrs. Guðmundsdóttir,” the doctor said, resting her arm in a sling. Landon smiled.

He had been using the medical center to improve his ability while thus improving Dr. Kjelld’s name to the doctor’s gratifying surprise. He pulled up the collar of his coat as a cold wind blew through him. Even though he was advancing, he wasn’t sure he would ever be able to help Amelia. And if he couldn’t, what use was this peculiar ability at all?

He wondered where she was – at home, out in the valley, or had she left Eventide? He had promised her he would leave her alone, to give her space and time. Both things he so longingly wished to cut away. But he had promised – he could at least give her that. As he walked through town, he waved in greeting to several of the passerbys. But he was always scanning the faces for Amelia. The unknowing made his mind twist and writhe in unsanctioned thoughts.

He stood at the path between Arfliefð and the road that wound around Norðurljós Pass and out to the valley. Grateful for one of the last days he would be able to walk from his family’s home in Arfliefð to Eventide, he chose not to return there. He only imagined the taught tensions in the house, loosening the mortar and stone with every unspoken word. He began his walk towards Norðurljós Pass, the sun baking warm on his face.

Landon had always thought if he had a choice, he would live in Norðurljós Pass. The homes snuggled against each other, some of the sod roofs creating one long rolling hill between the attached homes. Abraded clapboard siding gave the sense that they were worn as much by the hands of those before, as by the wind and snow.

He wandered down the gardens, his fingers drumming behind him on the fence posts. ”Damn it, damn it” a voice gritted in the next garden over. Landon laughed, peering his head around a shrub to find the owner. A young woman was crouched over a terracotta pot, her dirt-stained fingers brushing her palm. ”Oh God,” she uttered again, staring at her hands.

”Potting problems, Bryna?” Landon asked, smiling. She was a newcomer to Eventide, therefore everyone already knew who she was. Already the old women were gossiping about her Icelandic heritage. He had seen her enough times downtown to learn her name and that she came from Ireland.

She looked up, her brow furrowed, revealing to him the golden smudge of color on her closed hand where blood trickled. ”Are you alright?” he asked, his pulse quickening. He jumped over the small fence and kneeled next to her. Her fingers were clutched around her palm like a cage, her fingertips white from holding it tightly closed. He had remembered when he fell on the rocks, the adrenaline had first covered the pain but a few moments later it came rocketing towards him in waves of nausea. He could see the same thing happening to her, as she gritted her teeth and her hand gently shook.

He gently pried open her hand, to reveal a thick, jagged gash. The skin peeled back as blood continued to pool. An old shovel laid to the side, red muddying the rusted edges. Having used his ability all day albeit secretly, it became an unconscious reaction to heal. He placed his thumb at one end of the cut and slid across the breadth of her palm. He could feel the cinching of skin beneath the flesh of his thumb and the slick touch of blood in an open wound. Bryna gasped in pain, her fingers bending in reply. He reached the edge of the gash and all that was left on her palm was blood and dirt. He could feel Bryna’s gaze on him and he immediately froze.

He suddenly realized where he was, whom he was with, and that this was in no way what he should have done. "I'm-I'm sorry..."

[bryna muldoon]

Her hand stung with pain, and she couldn’t seem to stop clutching her hand. Taking a deep breath Bryna slowly opened her hand to look at the gash once more. She sucked in a quick breath; the pain was starting to really hit her now. The last time she’d done something like this to herself was almost two months ago. My luck was bound to run out I suppose, Bree thought to herself. Her hand was shaking as she looked down at the gash. It nearly ran across the entire length of her palm in a jagged line and blood seeped from the edges. She glanced over at the small shovel no lying in the small hole in the ground. There was blood along the edges and she felt her stomach turn at the site of it. She was all right with blood, but seeing it drip off the edges and into the dirt kind of freaked her out. There was blood splattered on her white shirt and dirt clung to it in some spots as well. She looked quite the mess, but all she could think about was the gash on her hand. She let out a shaky breath as she picked her bottle up to pour more water over the wound. She flinched as the lukewarm water ran across her hand once more and closed her fingers over the gash as she set the bottle down. With her hand gripped in a fist she was about to get up and walk to the house when she heard a voice over her small fence. “Potting problems, Bryna?” She jumped a little at the sudden voice before looking over her shoulder to see who the voice belonged to.

Looking up Bree furrowed her brow. It took her a moment to place a name with the face but after a short few seconds she remembered seeing him around town. “You could say that, Landon.” She tried to smile, but her hand was starting to burn with pain and she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Her hand started to shake and before she could say anything more she watched as he quickly jumped the small fence and kneeled next to her asking her if she were all right. Her brows shut up in surprise and her mouth could only hang open as he gently took her hand and pried open her fingers. She sucked a ragged breath as the cool air hit the gash. She looked back up at him as he bent over her hand and placed his thumb on the edge of the cut. She was about to say something but stopped short as he slowly moved his thumb across the cut. Her eyes widened in surprise as the edges slowly began to knit themselves back together but gasped in pain as she felt the skin stretch and heal together, her fingers bending in response. As the cut finally closed she looked back up at Landon, surprise written all over her face. She watched as his body froze and he stammered his apologies.

Pulling her hand back she looked down at it but she could only look in wonder as all that remained was blood and dirt. She cradled her once injured hand in her other hand to take a closer look but couldn’t see anything that remained of the gash. There was no scar, or slight mark of where it had been. She opened her mouth to speak, but only a quiet squeak could come out. Closing her mouth she cleared her throat and looked up at him before looking down at his hand. She grabbed his wrist with her now healed and turned his hand over, for some reason thinking his secret lay somewhere on his palm. His hand still in hers she used her free hand to run her fingers over his palm as if looking for something. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the blood rushing through her body. Finally, she spoke. “How did you do that? Th—that was amazing,” she replied quickly. Taking one hand away from his she pushed her hair back and looked at his face. It was evident to her that he was shocked at himself for doing what he’d just done. After all, they barely knew one another and it wasn’t like having ‘special powers’ came up in small talk while at the grocery store.

Smiling, Bree touched his shoulder and kept her gaze steady with his. “Really. Thank you. I’m quite the klutz and you just saved me from having to try and bandage my hand and then go to the hospital for stitches…” Taking a deep breath she continued to speak. “I’m like you, you know,” she whispered. If he felt uncomfortable after helping her out, she felt it was only right to help him feel at ease. Looking over her shoulder, she smiled gently and reached towards one of her plotted plants. Snapping off a closed bud she held it in her hand and looked up at him. Taking a breath she pushed life into the flower, urging it to open and bloom. After a moment of silence a white bloom was nestled in her palm and its fragrance opened into the air. Smiling at him she hoped he would feel a little more at ease.

[/b][/color] ladon
word count:: nine – zero – zero.
outfit:: click.
notes:: yay for flowers ! haha.
credit:: © moi[/size][/ul]

[landon daðason]

soundtrack

“I’m like you, you know,” He watched her as a stillness entered the air. She reached over to the potted plants that surrounded them. There was a crisp crack as she pulled off a bud from one of the stems. His thoughts were quiet as her movements ensnared their pulse. She looked up to him expectantly -- the bud nestled into the lines of her palm. Then, the green encasing cracked. A pillow of white puffed from the mouth of the bud. The petals fanned out in one sweep, happening so quickly Landon felt his chest swell without knowing why. Bryna held out to him a fully blossomed flower in the hand he had healed.

A soft aroma filled the air as he stared where the stem of the flower had been snapped off. She smiled gently, her blue eyes clear. He sat there, frowning. Thoughts began to piece their way together, but they kept fitting at odd angles. He knew of the abilities some Heritage members had, but somehow seeing this stranger to Eventide make a flower spontaneously bloom rattled him.

He leaned back on his heels and dropped completely to the ground. He ran his hand over his face and stared at the flower again. What would happen if his father found out? If any of the Heritage members found out?

”Have you always been able to do that?” He swallowed hard and hesitantly picked up the blossom with the tips of his two fingers. It brushed tormentingly soft on his skin. It was real.

”Can you do this just to flowers? Or…other things as well?” He looked over into her blue eyes and envisioned a corpse reawakened beneath her pale fingers. A breeze blew cold across them, pulling threads of her hair across her face. She pushed it back behind her ear, stubbornly. There was an earthiness to Bryna, a girl he hardly knew. But he could see it, in the wonder of her natural beauty. Even the way she held his gaze, her stare open and innocent, but not naïve to the world. There was a smattering of freckles across her nose and a light streak of dirt on her cheek. She was rooted to the earth, but not in a way that limited her. It somehow set her free.

He could see that her ability was embedded to what grew around her. ”I guess I shouldn’t be apologizing,” he said with a grin. He paused and placed the flower delicately back in her palm. He wondered how long it would take for the flower to wilt. ”Do you know of anyone else who can do this?” It wasn’t typically common to speak about their…issues at home. It was regarded and acknowledged that those in the Heritage had these symptoms but never freely discussed. Once or twice when he was young he had asked his older brothers about their abilities. But at that age they were as unsure about it as he was. Truthfully, although the Heritage was known for all the secrets they held, the children were left in the dark.

Images of his father, and Jonathan Eíríksson pulling Bryna out of her home in the dark of the night flashed across his mind. A protective instinct flared inside him and he knew he had to figure out how to keep her safe. ”Bryna,” he held her gaze firmly ”You can’t tell anyone, do you understand? No one must know about you.”

[bryna muldoon]

She held her breath, waiting for him to answer. Bryna could see, as he fell backwards, that he was rattled but she kept a gentle smile on her face. Her brother and sister had been the same way when she had showed them so many years ago. Those had been better days though. She watched in silence as Landon rubbed at his face before asking her if she’d always had her power, taking the bloom from her hands. Pushing her hair back with her free hand she thought about it. She hadn’t thought about that in years. “I don’t really know. I can remember when I first really noticed what it was I could do, but I can’t honestly say how long I’ve been able to do it.” Smiling softly, she looked down at the bloom in his hands as if it were showing her, her own story. “I was fifteen years old. I was in my first year of senior high and I was at that very awkward and hormonal stage, as you can imagine. It had been a pretty awful day all-in-all and I was a wreck when I went home. Ran home, actually,” she corrected herself. Looking up at him her smile slowly faded from her face. “When I ran into the house and up to my room I watched as all my flowers began to wither and die. I watched as every last petal and leaf began to brown and fall to the floor.” Closing her eyes for a moment she took in a deep breath before looking at him once more. “I was quite depressed after that. I already felt like an outsider at school and it just seemed like it was the icing on my very shitty cake.” She was silent for a moment.“After a few months and a very stupid attempt at suicide – which I know now was probably way overdramatic – I began to accept and even love this gift.” Laughing she shook her head slightly. “Sorry. You asked a simple question and I gave you a chunk of my life story.”

Biting her lip she thought about it. “No. Just flowers and plants really…Oh. Shrubs and small trees too...I think. I helped an apple tree grow once, but I’ve never tried anything bigger. Why?” She looked into his eyes, searching for an answer to her own question. She’d only met Landon a few times really, in town. She thought it was funny the first time she learned his name since it was the same as her grandfather’s, but she assumed it was a common enough name in Iceland. Keeping his gaze, she tried to see what he was thinking about. She’d always been bad at reading people, her ex-fiancée proof of that, but the only thing she could ever really get from Landon was a slight sadness. They were silent for a moment before he finally spoke once more and smiled. Seeing his grin Bryna felt herself begin to smile as well, and looked down as he gently placed the bloom in her hand before looking back up to him, a warm smile on her face. ”Nope. We’re both different I suppose.” Her smile faltered slightly at his question and she looked away for a moment. She watched a small bird take flight. She wasn’t one-hundred percent sure, but she was nearly positive that her two siblings were like her. Perhaps they didn’t have the same ability she did, but she suspected that they were special just as she was. Looking back to Landon she gazed into his eyes and thought about her answer. Smiling she told the truth the best she could. “I don’t know anyone who can do what I can,” she glanced down to the bloom in her hand and around her garden. “And I can honestly say you’re the first person I’ve meant who has actually done something…extraordinary.” She felt a slight pang in her chest for lying, but pushed it away. Landon was a nice enough guy and she felt…something for him or from him, but her brother and sister and her grandmother were the only family she had and they came first.

Slowly placing the bloom to the side Bryna was surprised when he spoke. His voice almost seemed fierce and…protective. Looking at him, concern in her eyes, she slowly nodded her head before speaking. “All right. I promise, Landon.” She gently placed her hand over his, thinking to comfort him from what seemed to her to be fear, but as soon has her skin touched his, she felt her skin begin to warm. Looking down at her hand on top of his she furrowed her brow in confusion. Looking up at him she opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself and just smiled at him before slowly pulling her hand away from his. It must just be some sort of after effects of his powers, she thought to herself before looking into his eyes once more. There seemed to be something there. Behind what seemed to be a blue haze, she just couldn’t figure out what and why it pulled at her so. Taking a deep breath, she laughed lightly. “Well this has to be the most extraordinary day I’ve had in a long time.” She once more smiled at him before slowly standing and looking at him. Biting her lip she laughed again and pushed her hair back. “I guess I don’t really know what to do now. Being mysteriously healed hasn’t ever really happened before, so offering you a drink seems kind of a poor way to really thank you…”

[/b][/color] ladon
word count::. nine – three – eight.
outfit:: click.
notes:: i am soooooo sorry it took me this long to reply.
credit:: © moi[/size][/ul]