halfbloodhill_logs | (no subject)

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Who: Melinda Blackburn and Lydia Martin
What: Melinda wants to send a message and needs some help.
Where: Ares cabin
When: Feb 7, afternoon
Why: because Melinda is awkward as hell

"I mean, basically what I want to say is 'do something already,' I guess," Melinda said, pulling her pantleg up over her knee. Most of Ares cabin was out training and exercising, so Melinda had turned the music down to a level where it was comfortable to talk. She'd scraped her knee badly enough that it felt stiff, and encountered Lydia on the way back, and somehow they were now talking about Valentine's Day flowers.

"Like, 'I know you know so do something about it,'" she expanded, picking up a towel and a bottle of disinfectant. She held the towel under the injury and then poured from the bottle, flinching a little at the sting. She'd rather deal with some peroxide than take ambrosia for something as dumb as a scrape, though.

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Lydia is perched on Melinda's bunk, ankles delicately crossed. "The trick is to keep the message succinct. You don't want a bouquet with too many different meanings or you'll just confuse the issue. The basic message needs to be 'put up or shut up' though, right?"

"'Give me a yes or a no' is more like it, but yeah," Melinda said, dabbing gingerly at her wound. She apparently decided it was good enough and picked up a tube of ointment. "I guess I should just..." Melinda trailed off and shook her head a little. She'd been about to say she should just do something herself, force an answer out of him, but she'd kind of tried that. If basically making out didn't get her a solid answer she wasn't sure what else to do.

Edited 2014-02-08 03:43 (UTC)

"Have you asked him?" Lydia asks frankly. "I mean honestly the best way to find out what someone thinks of you or if they like you, is to ask them outright." Curious, "Who is it, anyway? I won't tell anyone."

"Kind of," Melinda said. "I don't...I can't..." The idea of actually asking him outright, of having to make that move, made her more nervous than it seemed like it should. She just shook her head mutely and stood up, stepping up on the edge of her bunk with the good leg to grab something off the bunk above hers. She hopped back down and sat again, opening a box of rainbow-pattern bandaids. Hey, Ares kids can like bright things too.

"Why not?" Lydia asks. "If you ask and it's yes, you get what you want, and if it's a no, you haven't lost anything you had before." She leans back, continuing, "So the thing to do is pick two or three flowers to make up your bouquet, taking into account color and fragrance and placement."

"Okay," Melinda said, selecting one of the large size and peeling the packaging open. "What if like...is there flowers that can approximate 'tell me yes' and 'tell me no'? And we put those together? Would that be right?" she asked, looking at Lydia a little unsure. Give her something to kill and she had that shit down, flowers were not her department.

Lydia points out, "You didn't answer my question. Who is this for? We might be able to tailor it more accordingly." That said, she contemplates. "You might start with jonquils. It's a request to be loved, and indicates a desire for affection to be returned."

Melinda looked down at her knee, blushing. "I'd kinda...rather not say." As far as Melinda knew, Lydia still liked Mike, and Melinda already felt incredibly guilty getting her help with this. What if she just refused when she found out who it was for? Worse, what if she pointed out the obvious, that Lydia totally deserved Mike more than Melinda? She was only getting through it now by reminding herself that Mike was a person and unable to be stolen, that he was going to choose who he liked (and that was totally Lydia) and there was no manipulation that was going to sway him involved in a bouquet of flowers. If anything, it was unbearably weird, but Melinda was desperate. That was why she was accepting the help at all.

"Jonquils," she said, trying to stay on topic. "I have...no idea what those are, but okay."

Clearly something is conflicting in that brain of Melinda's and Lydia really, really wants to pry. She's fairly sure she could get it out of Melinda if she went about it the right way...but there's a time and a place.

"They're white and yellow, but not like daisies. Kind of like daffodils? You could accompany them with red tulips, which are considered a declaration of affection. We just need to find a third flower that has the quality of wanting an answer."

"I'm not sure he needs the declaration," Melinda said. "He definitely knows I'm into him, and I'm gonna give it to him in person so like, it's not like he has to guess who this is about. Is there something that means, like...'leave me alone' or rebuffing an advance? I feel like it needs to say that he can say no, too, he just has to say something. Ugh, I'm not making any fucking sense," Melinda said, pulling her pantleg back down. She hobbled away and came back with an ice pack, sitting and putting it on the injured knee.

Lydia suddenly snaps her fingers, inspired. "I got it. Jonquils, with red and yellow carnations. Essentially, 'Do you return my affections, yes or no'. What do you think of that?"

"That sounds good," Melinda said, nodding and actually smiling a little. "I guess I have to find a Demeter kid now. I should do it like, on Valentine's, right? Or do you think it matters? I'm not good at this," Melinda said, looking pained for a moment.

Lydia leans forward, elbows on knees, chin on her knuckles. "Maybe a few days before? Because giving him a few days before Valentines might give him time to frame a suitable answer."

"Okay, that makes sense," Melinda agreed, nodding. "God. Sorry I'm such a spaz," she said, moving back so she could sit against the wall. She stuffed a pillow under the injured knee and replaced the ice.

Lydia shakes her head. "You're not a spaz. A lot of people are nervous about this sort of thing. And it can feel risky. But I can't imagine a guy wouldn't want to go out with you."

Lydia gives her a grin, widening her eyes just a little. "You sure you won't tell me who it is? Maybe I can help." She brightens. "I can be your Cyrano!"

Melinda cocked an eyebrow. "Cyrano?" When Lydia said it, her mind filled in 'Cyrano de Bergerac' or something like it, but she wasn't sure if that was right, or any context for it.

"Exactly," says Lydia excitedly. "I can be your go-between."

"I...okay." Melinda was going to point out that she was missing the reference, but Lydia was obviously excited, so she'd let her have it. "I think the bouquet is gonna be good for now. After he reacts to it, we'll see."

"Okay. And even if you still won't tell me who he is, tell me how it went, okay?" Lydia asks earnestly. She really wants this to be a success for Melinda.

"I will," Melinda agreed, nodding. If nothing else, she was probably going to need to run to Lydia and overanalyze every bit of his reaction after she'd given them to him. "Can you do me a favor and steal the black pillow from up there?" she asked, pointing to the bunk above. The one she was using was not giving her the right angle.

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