OH, O-PHELIA | open + flowerprints

MARGAERY FOLIE-MIKAELSON

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I REMIND YOU OF THE DAYS
YOU POURED YOUR HEART INTO

One of the few downsides to controlling Margaery's body was her defective flowerprints. Roses bloomed perpetually in her wake, their colors often indicative of her current emotions. Red for happy. Maroon for angry. Yellow for excited. White for in love. There were so many different colors and so many different emotions that Genevieve, who could only produce wilted roses, was frankly tired of looking down and seeing the lifeless plants that she was creating over the once beautiful and lush ones that heeded to Margaery's call. Sure, she couldn't feel anything save hatred and hunger, but there had to be a color for that, right? Or had Margaery doomed her in that respect too? She wasn't surprised honestly, it seemed like a bitchy thing to do and therefore was right up her counterpart's alley.

But despite her own displeasure with her flowerprints, she couldn't help but cackle when she saw Bast surrounded by pretty, yellow blossoms. [b]"Make those yourself?" She inquired with a wink, poking at one of her own, thorny and dead flowers. It seemed as if he was better at making flowers than her (a fact that would typically bothered her had she not felt something so akin to amusement) and she wondered if he'd share some of his secrets. Not actually though, the less time she spent interacting with the load of imbeciles that Margaery considered her friends and family, the better. "Yellow... yellow... Who does that remind me of? Oh! Hazel! I still want to know when the wedding is! You two never told me last time!"

© MADI