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@roguegarden-blog
southiesfavoriteson
“Oh. Oh, yeah!” Finn nods quickly, looking from her back to the drawing again. “I can make ‘em look like, like natural, yanno? Cuz like, flowers don’t grow all th’ same so I can like, make it look like a bunch of ‘em.”
Dirt watched stared him down a moment, mouth twisted to the side. “Fine. One at a time, though. When?”
southiesfavoriteson
“Um. Okay…”
Finn shrugs off his backpack and fishes out the sketchbook, such as it is, along with a pencil. Some quick scribbling, and he holds out the sketch to show her. It’s rough, but delicate and pretty.
“About like that?”
Dirt gives it a look over with a nod. “Can you do it more ways? I don’t want five roses all looking the same.”
southiesfavoriteson
“Uh.” Finn lifts his chin, attempting to look confident. “About uh, six months? I’m good, though, always use clean needles, n’ I’ll draw it out for ya first so you can make sure it’s what ya want.”
Six months. Not very long. “Draw it out, then.”
southiesfavoriteson
Finn’s eyebrows shoot up, his cheeks flushing when he realizes, holy shit, this lady he just met is lifting up her shirt. She stops before she gets to anything trulyscandalous, though, and Finn clears his throat.
“R-right, uh. Yeah, no problem. How’s uh, fifty caps a rose?”
What kind of tattoo artist got flustered at the sight of skin? Her eyes narrow. “How long you been doing this?”
roguegarden replied to your post “"Tattoo kid.“ It’s not the most eloquent way to hail someone, but…”
Good, right person, then. What a scrawny stick, though. "You do roses?”
“Oh uh, yeah! I could do roses…” He cocks his head thoughtfully. “How big were ya thinkin’?”
Helpfully, Dirt lifts her shirt up on her left side about halfway. Underneath is a collection of tattooed roses. Each is a bit smaller than the palm of a hand, interrupted by some leaves and vines. She cocks her head at the young man, saying simply, “I need more.”
gardnersmuseum
[He unlatches and steps back, keeping his hands hovering in the air. He looks at her with one eye.] Have fun, doll.
[She beats feet out of there, wiping her front and arms off when she’s out of sight.]
gardnersmuseum
Mmmhm. [Pat, pat.] Now you can stop wasting my time with inane fucking questions and get us some things to grow so we can eat.
[She’s pretty sure he won’t die if she stabs him, so she’s stuck like this.] Okay. Let go.
gardnersmuseum
[That makes him grin and he straightens up like he has something to be proud about.] Aw. You know I’m a good leader. Come here. [He limps to the doorway and drops his arms around her shoulders for a pretty sloppy hug, patting the back of her head. He’s shirtless and sticky from the humidity.]
[Oh god, this is the worst. Dirt’s face clenches inward with a pained cringe. He’s doing this on purpose. Awkwardly, she pats his back with one arm, hoping this ends quickly.]
gardnersmuseum
You don’t believe me?
[She manages to resist a sigh.] I believe you.
gardnersmuseum
[He blinks. He glances away. Deadpan.] I’m tellin’ you because I care.
[She can’t quite stop the snort that comes out, if she even tried.]
Yes. [A frown.] I don’t know.
It’s dangerous after dark, Dirt girl.
I know.
gardnersmuseum
[He looks at her since she didn’t give him a verbal answer.] Did you hear me?
Yes. [A frown.] I don’t know.
gardnersmuseum
Are you gonna be back before dark?
[A frown, then she shrugs.]
gardnersmuseum
Fuck, uh. Carrots. Corn. Garlic… not tatos, I can’t deal with tatos.
[Another pause, and then she speaks up again.] ...I’m going, then.
gardnersmuseum
Really? How come we’ve never thought of this before?
[They had thought of it before. Gardner just demanded the vegetables be replaced with more flowers after he got bored of them in two months.]
Yeah, do that.
[There’s no correction; she doesn’t want to start an argument she can’t win.]
What kind?
gardnersmuseum
Y’know I always wanted to ask, where are they getting their flower seeds from? Do they have a garden somewhere in there I haven’t seen? Do they have a farm? We should start a farm.
[There’s a long, frustrated pause.]
I can get vegetable seeds.
gardnersmuseum
What kind’f supplies?
Seeds. Shit. Jet.
