four ❚ action.

[willbereborn.livejournal.com]

[ Fire is something that is natural for Birdie. Fire is what she is, in a way. The phoenix loves it, sings to it, dances for it, celebrates its warmth and ultimately, sees no harm in it, but somehow, the burning flowers left her little heart sad.

A wolf had brought her a piece of metal - a medal, but she does not know that for she has never seen one, doesn't know what it means. She can't read either, so she has no idea what is written there. She knows they are words, but doesn't know how to put them together. There's still so much to learn and really, she wants to, but she doesn't seem very keen of it as of late. The whole caged feel... It gets her down and even if she can fly as far as the sky lets her, she can't get out of the Gardens. They're pretty and peaceful and the people are nice and the magic is warm but a prison is a prison and the phoenix feels anxious when she thinks about it.

She sits at the lake's shore, legs like in a Yoga position, butterfly-style, elbows tucked in close to her body and torso slightly hunched forward. She stares at the rhythmically calm waters and wiggles her nose a little, before moving her eyes to the pebbles near her. She grabs a handful, tries to pick the smoothest ones, and curls her hand around them, slowly, flicking her wrist, making the stone skip against the surface of the water before sinking like Caprica had taught her.

She blinks slowly and lowers her head to the medal in front of her and frowns. She doesn't know what it means, but she knows somehow it's about the flowers. So she feels a little sad every time she takes a look at it and it shows on her little face. She makes a small noise to show it, too, and hugs her knees to her chest, cheek resting on them. She's confused, she's trapped and she can't fly away. And the spoiled little thing just wants to crawl against someone and block out everything. ]

Comments

[welljustwatchme.livejournal.com]

Miss? Are you all right?

[aunomdedieu.livejournal.com]

[ The Gardens have, finally, been getting to Caprica too. She's had to keep herself from getting angry, for the first time since she arrived here, because what happened was wrong. Endangering everyone because some people made a choice not to take care of their flowers was wrong.

But getting angry doesn't do anything to help. She of all people knows that. Today she's gone for a walk across the Gardens, just to try and relax a little bit. Her medal is in the pocket of her leather jacket, and she toys with it idly now and again as she walks.

Eventually she spies a familiar enough figure beside the shore of the lake — a familiarity that's confirmed a moment later when a stone skips across the surface of the water. Despite herself, Caprica smiles a little.

She approaches and crouches down slowly next to Birdie, crossing her arms over her knees. Her eyes linger on the medal the phoenix has in her hands, just like Caprica's own, before she speaks. ]

What's wrong?

[ She knows something is; she isn't blind. ]

[hicanistabyou.livejournal.com]

[Sydney tilts her head at the sight, knitting her brows with a little, sympathetic smile.]

You look so sad.