(no subject)
Characters: Rosethorn, SO INCREDIBLY OPEN
Location: The hedge maze. Or clump, as it currently is
Time: Uh. Afternoon sometime on a day after Homecoming
Content: The hedge maze got excited. And turned into a hedge clump. Possibly while there were students inside. You are welcome to have someone caught in the maze or just have someone come and stare at a maze that suddenly threw out about a year's worth of grow in around half an hour~
Format: Prose preferred~
Warnings: Rosethorn. And people-eating mazes. No one will have gotten hurt, they will just suddenly find themselves surrounded by leaves if they were in the maze.
Rosethorn stood, hands on hips, all five foot three inches of her bristling with indignation as she glared at the hedge maze. Which was now, as she had informed the staff, quite obviously minus a maze.
“Did I say you could do that?” she demanded, tapping one bare foot on the ground. Looking at her, a person might assume that she was actually waiting for an answer from the giant shrubbery. A person would be entirely correct in assuming that, because that was exactly what Rosethorn was doing.
She then had the peculiar honour of watching a large hedge simultaneously attempt to convey a mix of shame and extraordinary excitement at having her near. The hedge had felt her coming, it seemed, and wanted to celebrate her arrival. It hadn’t even hurt very much, growing so much so fast. The hedge had been ready.
Rosethorn pursed her lips, but she was no longer glaring at the poor maze. She stepped closer, inspecting the new growth it had thrown out almost overnight. “You’re not a young shrub,” she pointed out relentlessly. “You ought to know better than to pull something like this.”
Now that the hedge had caught on to the fact that she wasn’t really angry, it seemed quite unrepentant about the whole thing.
“You can’t keep any of this,” she continued. “You weren’t grown for this sort of thing, and you know it.”
The hedge did know it, in a hedgy sort of way. It wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been sure Rosethorn could take care of it, though. There was an odd bent to the leaves that caused a gruff smile to break out across her face. “It won’t work again,” she cautioned it. “I won’t have you pulling something like this a second time, not while I’m here.”
That odd bent was decidedly smug. The hedge knew that too. I just wanted to be first.
Rosethorn shook her head, sending her thought out into the thing to see what damage it had done to itself. She paused, coming across several people-shaped spaces in the new growth.
"Oh, bother."
Location: The hedge maze. Or clump, as it currently is
Time: Uh. Afternoon sometime on a day after Homecoming
Content: The hedge maze got excited. And turned into a hedge clump. Possibly while there were students inside. You are welcome to have someone caught in the maze or just have someone come and stare at a maze that suddenly threw out about a year's worth of grow in around half an hour~
Format: Prose preferred~
Warnings: Rosethorn. And people-eating mazes. No one will have gotten hurt, they will just suddenly find themselves surrounded by leaves if they were in the maze.
Rosethorn stood, hands on hips, all five foot three inches of her bristling with indignation as she glared at the hedge maze. Which was now, as she had informed the staff, quite obviously minus a maze.
“Did I say you could do that?” she demanded, tapping one bare foot on the ground. Looking at her, a person might assume that she was actually waiting for an answer from the giant shrubbery. A person would be entirely correct in assuming that, because that was exactly what Rosethorn was doing.
She then had the peculiar honour of watching a large hedge simultaneously attempt to convey a mix of shame and extraordinary excitement at having her near. The hedge had felt her coming, it seemed, and wanted to celebrate her arrival. It hadn’t even hurt very much, growing so much so fast. The hedge had been ready.
Rosethorn pursed her lips, but she was no longer glaring at the poor maze. She stepped closer, inspecting the new growth it had thrown out almost overnight. “You’re not a young shrub,” she pointed out relentlessly. “You ought to know better than to pull something like this.”
Now that the hedge had caught on to the fact that she wasn’t really angry, it seemed quite unrepentant about the whole thing.
“You can’t keep any of this,” she continued. “You weren’t grown for this sort of thing, and you know it.”
The hedge did know it, in a hedgy sort of way. It wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been sure Rosethorn could take care of it, though. There was an odd bent to the leaves that caused a gruff smile to break out across her face. “It won’t work again,” she cautioned it. “I won’t have you pulling something like this a second time, not while I’m here.”
That odd bent was decidedly smug. The hedge knew that too. I just wanted to be first.
Rosethorn shook her head, sending her thought out into the thing to see what damage it had done to itself. She paused, coming across several people-shaped spaces in the new growth.
"Oh, bother."