- Messages
- 793
- OOC First Name
- Emzies
- Blood Status
- Mixed Blood
- Relationship Status
- Interested in Somebody
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- Destroying Capitalism
- Wand
- Knotted 14" Sturdy Pear Wand with Unicorn Hair Core
- Age
- 12/2024 (37)
With this being his last year in the school, Orwell had been wondering what to do with the first event, usually the serious exams and classes he had sometimes stopped him from being able to do anything in this first semester but he was rather happy that he'd picked something simple as the second to last event that Orwell would ever run as king of the flowers before he passed on the all important crown to someone else. It was a simple event really, he had spent times toying with ideas of grandeur, with ideas about fancy protests, about the environment, or about food wastage, but when he got down to think about it, there was only one thing he could really see himself doing and given that it was exactly the right time it was just perfect to do it now. Wild Patch at it's roots was about planting, it was about gardening, and Orwell had decided that he'd return to that exact root in this event. Since it was the time to plant things, the boy had organised a little extra plot of land to be put aside for them, and had gotten new types of seeds that folk could plant with, he'd requested that for the event folk not bring wands, since all planting he felt should be done by hand.
Orwell was all ready, with instructions on how to plant things, he was dressed in casual clothes, short sleeves and rolled up jeans, dirt in his hands, on his bare feet, in his nails. He wore a fond expression as he glanced over the garden, on where soon flowers, vegetables and herb would be soon be growing, where the wild life had a place to feast. The boy stood with Archie in the Wild Patch hut, getting the last of the seeds out, Orwell had spare undisclosed seeds in his hand, with a little bird eating out of it, if no one arrived to this event Orwell knew that between him and Archie they'd get the work done. After all there was nothing more that Orwell loved more than Archie and his gardens. But, he was sure that a few members of the wild patch would be sure to attend. This was the first event to be purely plants, flowers, it held no political meaning, he just wanted to be sure that when he left the school there would be people who'd continue to care about the gardens.
Orwell was all ready, with instructions on how to plant things, he was dressed in casual clothes, short sleeves and rolled up jeans, dirt in his hands, on his bare feet, in his nails. He wore a fond expression as he glanced over the garden, on where soon flowers, vegetables and herb would be soon be growing, where the wild life had a place to feast. The boy stood with Archie in the Wild Patch hut, getting the last of the seeds out, Orwell had spare undisclosed seeds in his hand, with a little bird eating out of it, if no one arrived to this event Orwell knew that between him and Archie they'd get the work done. After all there was nothing more that Orwell loved more than Archie and his gardens. But, he was sure that a few members of the wild patch would be sure to attend. This was the first event to be purely plants, flowers, it held no political meaning, he just wanted to be sure that when he left the school there would be people who'd continue to care about the gardens.