flowers

i like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. this is the night, what it does to you. sunny, rose, just a boy.

[agentrcse]

location: the greenhouse time: 9:46 availability: @kielwright

Being somewhere new, being somewhere so out of his realm (he’s never been this far west before, never seen the ocean like this before) makes him want to explore. It makes him feel like a boy again, a child running through the forests of his home, wiling his days away in the hidden parts of the world. So Sunny, he tries to seek out new adventures in his new home.

The party, it’s fun and all—a real knee slapping good time—but Sunny’s already had his fill. It’s a little too loud, a little too crowded, a little too much for him to feel comfortable. Before, he left for the lawn, to smoke and stare at the stars. But now, he’s going somewhere else. He’s not sure where, he just knows somewhere. (It’s got to be better than this.)

Being a bit of a feral child makes him inept at standing still for too long. And the wandering, it feels good, like going back to his roots. He walks through abandoned hallways, drink in hand, looking, admiring, wondering. He goes from one place to the next, not paying much attention to anything in particular (he’s a little too drunk for that). It doesn’t take him long to find the greenhouse.

Big, huge, filled to the brim with plants—some he’s seen, some he hasn’t. He steps through the door and smiles, so big and so wide. Walking down row after row, he feels the leaves between his fingers, the roots beneath. Now this, this feels like home. Under the twinkling aura of the fairy lights, he marvels at the collection. Everything he could ever want, everything he could ever need, was right at his fingertips. Distracted as he is, he still doesn’t miss the telltale sound of someone coming in behind him.

“Wow, huh?” he says, to open air. “Never seen anything like this before.” He looks up. “You?”

[cur-sed]

[markvomit]

[agentrcse]

time: 9:20 pm location: lawn outside the party availability: @agntindigo

Being at a party (a shindig, a soiree, a ho-down) is a lot like being trapped in a sauna with your clothes on. Hot, uncomfortable, something you want to escape from, cool down from. And Sunny, underdressed and more than a little intimidated, needs a way out. Just for a moment, a second, nothing more; he needs space to breathe and comprehend. His life is being turned upside down, slow and sure and all he can do is watch.

Sunny just needs a moment to himself. A single moment, to catch his breath—breathe, breathe, breathe. He feels like he hasn’t filled his lungs since the moment he got here; not while unpacking his meager possessions, or trying (and failing) to find something gold to wear, or while standing off to the side of the room, a second glass of champagne in his hand.

So he slips out a door on the side, walking out onto the wide, sweeping lawn. He goes far enough away from the house that the babble inside fades (just a little, just enough to pretend he’s somewhere else a whole country away). With a sigh, he collapses on the ground, lying flat on his back and staring at the stars he hasn’t seen in years and years and years.

From his pocket, he pulls a pack of cigarettes—from which he extracts one—and from another pocket, a lighter. As he smokes, his runs his hand over the grass, twisting it around his fingers. He doesn’t care about his clothes (may the grass stain his ass the most beautiful shade of green) or anything else, really. It feels good (really fucking good).

Someone’s behind him. “Nice view, huh?” Absentminded, nonchalant. His cigarette makes his way back into his mouth. He breathes and glances behind him, above him. “Pretty.” He exhales long and deep, smoke tickling his nose.

[spcngebob]