Scribbles and Drabbles

Green Thumb

Plants were tangled in his hair as he woke up. Flowing from the pots on the windowsill into his golden curly locks like he was a maiden to be decorated. He groaned, feeling the roots tug at him as he tried to sit up. Slowly, carefully, he released his hair from the grip. Nimble fingers running through his strands of hair to remove the flowers which had decided to make their home on his head.

I'm going to have to move the flowers out of my room.

He couldn't have them doing this all the time. He had put them in the room to feel homier. It was only a tiny space big enough for a bed and a chest of drawers. It was better than having the apartment as an all-in-one space, however, so much better for his mental health. If his powers had activated, he couldn't have the plants in his room anymore. It wasn't safe anymore.

Walter rubbed his temples with his eyes closed. Stress was building, his shoulders were aching. He rolled them and stretched out his arms to attempt to unwind the tense muscles. He remembered what he had been taught about this happening. Don't panic. Phone home and be welcomed back into the garden. All sins would be forgiven, all hurts healed, those were only given to people whose heritage had finally activated. He had no interest in any of that.

He reached for his phone and checked his emails. Nothing was pressing, no jobs were due for today nor critical in the next few. Good. He needed some time to deal with this mess. Pulling a flower bud that had come off out of his hair, he stood up and gathered the pots. He placed him on the kitchen table and sprayed them with water.

His powers had woken up. He was 25. This wasn't supposed to happen now. He trembled and leaned on the table. The flowers perked up happily and bloomed brightly. He needed to ground himself. He lived in a city. That wasn't going to be easy. He needed soil and water and air. If he left the city, his friends would grow dangerous. His family would find him and drag him to the garden. If he went to the park, a norm might see. Something brushed against his foot. Roots had sprouted from the wooden legs, a rather beautiful knot of curls dancing around his feet.

So much for his table being soulless. If he could tell her, he'd be teasing his sister, Eliza. She'd told him off for buying wood from a manufacturer. He'd ignored her. Holly was never without heart and he liked the associations from his childhood. Rebirth, protection, it all felt right when he had been cut off.

Shower, a cold shower might help. His magic was sparking at the moment. Free and nothing to control it. Cold water would wash off the overflow.

The water was harsh against his skin. It hurt. He hugged his arms close to him and let the water pour over him. It washed away spores and harmful energies. Black sludge of despair fell to the tiles ground and down the drainpipe. In its place came hope. A gentle green, spreading over his chest and to the tips of his fingertips. For a moment he was at the top of the world. His magic had awoken.

"Ok," Walter nodded, getting out of the shower. "I can do this," he told his reflection as he passed it. He pulled on some clothes and sat on the floor cross-legged. He remembered the beginning lessons well enough. He had watched the thorns and roses learn how to control their powers. As long as he was sensible, he'd be fine. He just had to stay calm. Counting back from ten, he let his powers flow slow. Filling his core and out to the edges on his awareness.

Next thing he was aware off, there was banging on the door. Opening his eyes, it was dark. There was also a small bonsai tree floating in front of him. He plucked it out of the air and threw it on the table next to us before looking at his phone. He paled. It had been a full day since he had started meditating. And his phone was full of messages and missed phone calls from his sponsor, a fae lord by the name of Lord Barrow.