Covent Garden Flowers; Tuesday [04/02].

[white_oleander]

You know, as far as weird weekends around this place went, thinking you were a dragon-fighting Viking with a roommate that insisted you were dead and in some form of heaven wasn't really all that bad. In fact, a part of Astrid was a little sad that these things didn't really seem to repeat themselves, because she would not have minded being something like that again.

She probably could make herself a little more like Astrid Hofferson, though. She didn't know weapons hardly at all, even if she could do some pretty impressive work with her mother's knife, but Mr. Mitsutada's sword class had been one of her favorites that semester, surprisingly, and there was no lack of people around the island who knew weapons and would probably be willing to teach her...

That was perkolating in the back of her mind that day as she tended to tasks between drawings at the flower shop, wondering if it would even be worth it to pursue if it turns out she wasn't even going to be here anymore, wondering if that was even still a thing they were trying to do, to get her back home, and then mostly distracting herself from getting too worried or distressed about it by filling a sketchbook with dramatic scenes of skull-clad Viking girls taking down dragons.

With paintbrushes.

Just to spite you, Other Astrid.

Covent Garden was open!