username: IKEA Lord
•∙∙•∙∙•
name: Ivanskaya
•∙∙•∙∙•
gender: female
•∙∙•∙∙•
nationality: Polish
•∙∙•∙∙•occupation: florist
•∙∙•∙∙•birthday: April 11th
•∙∙•∙∙•╒═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╕
w h e r e
x f l o w e r s
x b l o o m ,
x s o
x d o e s
x h o p e
╘═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╛
by me╒═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╕
Ivanskaya looked in each direction, pleasure flooding her senses. She was surrounded by thousands of her favorite
flower, the mammoth russian sunflower. The sun beamed gently, hinting the yellow flowers with a soft glow. Ivanskaya
loved nothing more than to laze in this very meadow, where each day the flowers welcomed her. A derooted flower
lay on the ground. it looked as if all it's pride had been knocked straight out, leaves rotting, stem bent. The flower
itself, however, remained intact. Ivanskaya carefully remoed the flower from the stem and placed it into her satchel.
It was just past dawn, and Ivanskaya rose from the mass of flowers that entirely buried her. She got to her feet and
began the expansive walk back to the small town she had inhabited her entire life. It was mid-day when Ivanskaya
set foot on the welcoming entrance pathway to the town. To the east, a lush forest nourished the air so pure. And
the north, a snow-covered mountain, Ivankaya's sunflower meadow lay in front of it.
The trot from the town entrance to her small wooden house wasn't a long one. Quick senses of glee whipped through
as Ivanskaya eyed her neighbor's houses. She had sold them flowers, and since they had been displayed, the houses
had looked much more replenished. At her own doorstep now, Ivanskaya nudged open the front door and advanced
to her crafting desk. She pulled the sunflower from her satchel, and retrieved a bucket of clear glue and a glass frame
with a wooden border. Using a paintbrush, Ivanskaya had coated the flower in the glue- this would preserve it and
give a little shine. The paste dried quickly, and Ivanskaya fastened the now dazzling flower into the frame.
Ivanskaya probed the room, looking for the right location to place her work. At last, she concluded that the frame
looked best above her crafting desk, where she could glance at it while working. Ivanskaya had given this flower it's pride back.
╘═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╛
╒═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╕
I suppose
Kol and I manage eachother. We try to stay in the other's good side, mainly because we're keeping one anothers' secrets hostage. I found out that Kol really likes flowers. His den has loads of flower decor. He doesn't want anyone to know because... " flowers aren't manly." Kol knows that I am severely allergic to bee stings. One time he was helping me water my garden (only because I was paying him) and a bee flew up to my nose! I let out a huge shriek and Kol heard and saw every bit of it.
Petrograd is another story. We've been friends since childhood, it's like we're brother and sister. We don't consider marrying because... like I said, we're practically family. We go on and on teasing one another in a sibling-like way, to be forgiven within a minute and a half. He knows absolutely nothing about gardening, as when I left for a week and put him in charge of my garden, it looked like a desert wasteland. But as long as I don't leave him with my garden again, it's all good.
╘═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╛
