[Schnuffel Bunny]

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standard - hair, shine
common - tail, fur
uncommon - ears, pupil, tongue
rare- munchkin
non-rarity - sclera color

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Write about what would flowers say if they could talk? This can be done in writing or as a drawing.

Drawing needs to be a clean sketch.
Writing word limit is about 600 words.

Code: Select all

name;
gender;
prompt;


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ends on the 10th 11:00PM (PDT)!

[Maringue]

Pulling out good luck all <3

[captain dude]

— just watching this time —

[dogish]

Mark!

[cecro]

name; kroger
gender; trans mtf
prompt; I believe that if flowers could talk, they'd definitely ask the humans above to not pick them! The flowers would probably love to stay stuck to their roots, after all! Plus, usually their entire purpose is to spread seeds or be pollinated. (may add more soon)

[nygma]

name; hanayo
gender; female [she/xe]
prompt; wip .... T_T

[nio]

mark

[Kyar]

name; Leika
gender; female
prompt; (238)

--

what words would sprout
from parted petals
if these lips
words could make?

--

Once I held your hand, and it slipped into mine
like seeds upon the earth,
fitting to the furrows of a blossoming garden
alight with the warmth of swelling summer sun.
Where our fingers nestled, our love grew.

Bright morning air felt our breath on the wind,
laughter through the shimmying leaves of your garden,
where soil-dipped nails rested softly on your cheek.
Your eyes like lilies, holding tight that secret bloom,
tantalized mine with a soothing ease
while the flowers grew around us, one by one.

I chased you through the years but our love,
like that garden, rose and fell with seasons of discontent.
The silk in your eyes burned to spite, our roots torn asunder,
love ripped from foundation in once fertile soil.
When you left the last time, I still believed seasons turned.
I sought out that bright spring, when you'd wind your way back
up the overgrown lane, basket in hand, ready to save our weed-spoiled plot.

As afternoon passes over unkempt lawn,
a sprawling garden of crabgrass and thistles
spills over where our garden once grew.
But though my untrained hands failed to revive what once was,
each year, a bright blossom returns,
weaving through the tangle, fighting for the light.
A flower once cradled in your gentle calloused hand.

What would it say, if those petals could speak?

[basil!]

Mark

[Mnemosyne]

name; Rashmi
gender; female
prompt; Rashmi is laying in the sun, her face turned up into the sun. A sleepy smile graces her features, her eyes shut against the brightness of the day. It takes a couple of tries for her to react to your question.

"What flowers would talk about?" she asks slowly, yawning and blinking against the harsh light. Her smile turns just the tiniest bit sly. "What a strange sort of question. Why do you want to know?"

You shrug and say that you were just thinking. The field you're laying in is dotted with clovers and tiny yellow wildflowers swaying gently in the spring breeze. "What about the clovers?" you ask.

Rashmi hums and flips onto her stomach, staring intently at one of the clover flowers in the grass. "I think they're a bit down-to-earth, no pun intended. They tend to be overlooked in favor of showier blossoms, so they're just happy to be here. They're friendly with the bees and love talking about the bugs they've seen recently."

You nod; that makes sense, in a way. But now that Rashmi's gotten started she's on a roll.

"Roses are divas, the bigheaded things. They know they're put on a pedestal. Especially those roses bred just for pretty blooms that have no scent." Rashmi wrinkles her nose. "They're also terrible gossips and love putting other flowers down. I'm not a fan of them at all."

"That seems a bit unfair-"

"Baby's breath are shy and keep to themselves, but they're comfortable amongst their loved ones. They'll whisper a lot to their friends and family but clam up around outsiders. They're cute in that way. Wildflowers, as a whole, tend to be a bit flighty and easygoing; they're fun to chat with, and they love talking to strangers. They can tell the strangest stories, and you'll never know if they're true or not. It's up to you if you want to believe them."

You consider interrupting, but Rashmi's voice is calm and smooth, relaxing you. You close your eyes and lean back into the warmth of the grass.

"Tulips can be a bit haughty, but not nearly as bad as roses are. They'll give you harsh, but not unfounded, criticism. Lavender is kind and always has a good word to say about everyone. They're also great at giving out directions if you get lost. But don't get them confused with wisteria..."

The warmth of the day and the soothing tones of Rashmi's voice blanket you, and you can't help it... you fall asleep, the sun like a blanket over your body. When you wake up again, blinking sleep out of your eyes, Rashmi is still stroking the top of the clover flower, a small smile on her face. As the two of you get up to go back home, you turn to her.

"What you were saying earlier about the flowers... did you really just make that up on the spot? It seemed really detailed..."

Rashmi smiles an enigmatic smile. "Who's to say? C'mon, let's get back. I can feel a nap coming on!"

You turn to follow her, but you can't seem to shake that odd expression of hers from your mind, nor the distinct feeling that the flowers in the field seem to be waving as you stroll away and out of sight.

[ 552 / 600 ]