Best doodle I’ve made.

*sobs* just a bit more money Damnit and that’ll be me

Aries has way less clean scars because they had to get surgery off the grid so it wasn’t the best procedure but it worked nonetheless.

A Good Day

Owen watched as his boss looked over his arrangement with a scrutinizing eye. Her gaze was sharp as ever and sliced the display to pieces, closely examining every choice he made. From this angle and that, she observed his work. Meanwhile, Owen kept his eyes on her face, looking for the smallest signs of approval and disapproval in her expressions. It did not help that Gloria maintained a stoic exterior when it came to their work. No one was harder to read that Gloria. When the inspection was over, she straightened up and turned her eyes to the anxious man in front of her. Breath stuck in his throat, Owen awaited her analysis. “You got better.” This was enough of a compliment to let him exhale fully, his shoulders slumping in the process. “I like your choice of flora, they compliment each other well. But you need to work on your placement. You’re forgetting people likely won’t be sticking your work into corners where only a few angles are present. The overall arrangement has to be good no matter how someone approaches it. These are the areas where you put a lot of thought in. But if I turn it even just this much. The whole motif is wasted and no one would look at this twice. It would fade into the background and might as well not be there. You understand what I’m saying?” “Completely.” “Good. Keep that in mind and make the necessary changes to this one. When it’s done, go ahead and put it out on table four.” A record scratched in Owen’s head and whipped around to stall Gloria before she headed back to the front of the shop. “I can put it on display?” Startled by his outburst, Gloria stared up at him. He’s like an enormous puppy, she thought. With a laugh, she nodded. “Yeah. So clean it up.” “Yes, ma’am! Right away! I’m on it! Count on me!” Since Owen first started working with Gloria, this test of his knowledge was a monthly exercise. Time and again, he had done his best, but was met with more criticism than compliment. Every failure motivated him further and today the fruits of his efforts are finally seen. An arrangement of his own design would sit on one of the tables out in the shop for customers to see. To Owen, it was as big an achievement as being awarded a medal. Quickly, he used Gloria’s tips to improve the piece and paused to take several selfies with his work before he brought it out to sit among the vases Gloria set out earlier. A few more pictures and then he let the table be, admiring his work among that of his boss. Although, the level of skill was prominent to any trained eye, Owen was thrilled just to be on the same platform. The beauty of Gloria’s flower arrangements drew him into her shop one day with a force so strong he felt powerless to resist. After taking in the beauty of the flowers themselves, he watched her prepare a bouquet for a customer. Like a hawk, he followed her hands with his eyes. It was like magic the way she created masterpieces in moments. As soon as the customer was out the door, he grasped her hands in his and asked her to teach him. Initially, Gloria thought he was being an ass and trying to make fun of her. But when she tried to pull her hands back and struggled to pry them free, she realized his sincerity was as strong as his grip. It was an unusual encounter to put it mildly, but there was no reason to turn him away. She had been meaning to look for an employee anyway and although someone with experience would have been ideal, his passion was something she valued far more. Sliding his phone back inside the pocket of his apron, Owen headed toward the counter where Gloria was ringing up a customer. He was halfway there when the soft cries of a little girl outside seized his attention. She stood near one of the potted plants that belonged to the restaurant next door, her hands balled up into tiny fists as she cried with her eyes shut tight. Owen looked around for the sign of a parent who had perhaps just scolded her, but after a look around, it was evident the girl as alone. Concerned, he crouched to meet her eye level and approached her cautiously. “Excuse me. Hey. Little girl?” he asked, his voice as soft a tone as he could make it without being too quiet. Tears still falling down her cheeks, she blinked several times as she turned her head in his direction. Even though he now had her attention, he was not sure what to do next. He was afraid she would burst into sobs again if he asked the wrong question. “My name is Owen. What’s your name?” “Deliah,” she said through hiccups. Okay, Owen. Keep it up. So far, so good. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. “Deliah, can you tell me why you’re crying?” Her face scrunched up again and she wiped her eyes as she said, “The big doggy was over here and I wanted to pet him. But when I looked back Papa was gone.” Owen nodded along with her story. He was afraid that was the case. It being a Saturday, there were more people out than usual, making it all too easy to get separated. Her father must be worried sick trying to navigate the crowd and look for her at the same time. “Tell you what, Deliah. How about I help you find your papa? Would that be ok?” The suggestion helped calm her down again. “How?” Owen stood up straight, but maintained eye contact. “I’m big and tall, right? If I pick you up, I bet you could over everybody here. What do you think?” Deliah nodded. “You wanna try?” Nodding again, she stretched her arms up for him to lift her. From experience in picking up the kids in the neighborhood in which he grew up, Owen lifted Deliah with ease and put her on his shoulders. Despite having sat on her father’s shoulders before, since Owen was much taller, it took her a moment to get comfortable with the height. Her little arms wrapped around Owen’s head and he kept his hands on her feet to hold her steady. “How’s the view?” he asked. “Lot of people…” Not wanting her to get discouraged, he asked, “What’s your last name, Deliah?” “Scheer.” In his booming voice, Owen called out, “Mr. Scheer! Mr. Scheer!” A man who was sweating bullets heard the call and pushed his way back toward where it originated. A few yards away, he saw his daughter above the heads of the crowd. “Deliah! Sweetheart!” “Papa!” “Deliah!” As Mr. Scheer emerged from the throng of people, Owen set Deliah back on solid ground. She ran to her father’s arms and he scooped her up, hugging her close. “Don’t ever leave my side, Deliah. I was so worried.” The pair thanked Owen for his help and Mr. Scheer and Owen exchanged business cards. Gloria raised her brows at him when he re-entered the shop. Stopping at the counter, he held Mr. Scheer’s card out to her. “He’s the manager of that restaurant on sixth.” “Fancy.” “He said they get a lot of catering requests for big events and promised to put in a good word for us to do arrangements,” Owen reported proudly. “Big day for you,” she teased with a smile. The rest of the business day was uneventful compared to how it began, but Owen did not mind. The slow pace of working in this florist’s shop was another one of its draws. He could take his time chatting with customers, walk around admiring the flowers, and watch leisurely as people floated by in and out of view as they passed the window. Closing crept up on him and when time came to lock up, he was full of mixed feelings. Although he would normally be on his way home, today he had a meeting to keep with someone. “My pup!” Owen’s father cheered, standing to greet his son. Owen thanked the waiter for showing him to the table and gave his father a hug before taking his seat. “I ordered for the two of us so our wait won’t be long.” Beaming, his father draped his napkin over his lap again. “How was your day?” “Good.” “A lot of business?” “About as much as usual.” His father frowned. “When you were younger, you used to tell me about every single breath you took.” “I also used to call you ‘Daddy.’ Let’s not use the past as a measure for today.” Though he continued to pout, Owen’s father let it go. For now. “Wren and Fig are engaged.” “Wow! Good for them.” “Their parents are planning a big bash.” “I wouldn’t expect any less.” “They asked me if I thought you might be in town for it.” Owen sighed. A familiar crushing weight settled on his shoulders at once. “Tell me when and I’ll check my schedule.” “I already told them you were busy, but you’d try. Be sure to send them something late enough to make it believable.” It did not make him feel any better, but he appreciated his father’s assistance. “Thanks, Dad.” Their food came within minutes. Owen’s father cut into his steak first. A pale red liquid escaped with the slice and the sight and scent had both their mouths watering. Both men groaned happily as they dug in, savoring eat bite. “This is the only place that makes the steaks just right,” Owen’s father commented, tapping the piece of meat with the prongs of his fork. “Still not as good as yours, though,” Owen insisted. Chuckling, his father grinned from ear to ear. “You flatter me. But you are right. I’m the master of steaks.” After their meal, Owen waited outside with his father until his taxi arrived. “When will you be back in the city, Dad?” “Should be...two months?” Owen nodded. “Just give me a heads up and I’ll clear the day. Sorry I couldn’t this time.” “Don’t sweat it. I’m glad for any time with my little pup.” He reached out and tousled Owen’s neat hair, leaving some of it sticking up. “You’re the only one in the world who can call me little,” Owen said with a laugh. “I’ll say it until my last breath. See you soon, son.” “Soon, Dad. Be good.” “Eh. We’ll see.” Winking at his son with a smirk, he climbed into the back of the taxi and headed back to his hotel. Once the vehicle was out of sight, Owen sighed heavily. He loved seeing his father, but the guilt that came with it tired him more than any physical activity ever could. It was not his preference to keep his distance from the people he grew up with, but for the sake of peace, it was a necessity. If he and his mother were in the same room, a celebration of Wren and Fig would turn into some kind of shouting match and that would not be fair to them or their families. Once again, he would be absent from the festivities and have to send an apology gift in his place. At this point, he was sure he could keep delivery services thriving on his business alone. Inside his small apartment, Owen dropped his keys into their dish by the door and hung up his coat. Sliding his boots off, he rubbed his neck to relieve the knots that stress put there. He knew he should change first, but he was too tired to bother and shuffled into his bedroom to flop down on his bed. Face buried in his pillow, he groaned loudly. All in all, it was still a good day. No matter what stress he now felt, today he had managed to create an arrangement worthy of being on display. Rolling over onto his back, he grinned to himself. Next time, he would be sure to awe Gloria with his improvement. He was more determined now than ever. Imaging what kind of face she would make, Owen drifted off to sleep.

Final side character!

The final semi main character (the ghost) is still to be revealed but here’s the final side character. Also I can’t believe it took me this long to give a character a cool big hat.

Wren is a Naiad who is a powerful sorcerer, considered one of the best in Izroulia. They train people on how to utilise their powers in a fight or emergency, as well as what spells and incantations work best with a persons natural power. They’re extensively studied in pretty much all magic, even boons and is a devotee to Hecate. No one actually knows what happened to his eye, he just ended up with an eyepatch one day and doesn’t take it off.

Hell show up a bit later in the story, but is a pretty cool side character.

Doodles

My Naiads and their long dark hair.