In the bustling market despite the cold, the many varied denizens of RhyDin went about their business shopping in the snow, sun, murk, fireballs, rain, sleet, or pouring cats. As unpredictable as the weather could be, the realm's citizens were as unpredictable in their resilience and trade. Terror and beauty were never far from one another in RhyDin. In some places, some of the stores and the cobblestone still bore the marks of sorrows past. Scorch marked timbres, blackened and twisted stone. In one quiet place through the busy bustle-rush of goods, traders and hawkers selling their wares was a strange little booth.

The booth was a simple affair of wood, festooned with the cheerful and gaudy hearts in red and white. Where there should have been a man, woman or being of some sort to see to the order of things behind it, there was no one. The letters along the top and bottom, painted carefully in RhyDin common read: The Love Booth, give or take some love today. A jar on the right was titled 'Give Love.' A jar on the far left was titled 'Take Love.' The booth itself was stocked full of countless types of card papers: thick and thin, girlish and neutral, red and pink and every shade in between. Sheafs of it weighed down by a heart-shaped rock were there for the taking. Glitter and glue, ribbons and lace, stickers of arrows, hearts, kisses, markers, pencils, paints, pens, envelopes, stamps and quills stood at the ready, patiently waiting.

On the table of the booth itself tacked with what looked like a replica of perhaps cupid's arrow, read a note: The love you take is equal to the love you make. Welcome to RhyDin's Love Booth. If you have loved, are loved, are in love, or knew love, you may create an Eros day card for your loved one. But in memory of that love, please consider making an Eros day card for a stranger who may have lost love, not-yet-known love, or who finds themselves lonely today in the Give Love Jar. If you are a lone and without love this month of romance, seek a little warmth from the 'Take Love' jar. If it makes you smile, make another Eros day card for someone else to enjoy. Thank you.

http://i.imgur.com/IdEoqgN.jpg

OOC
((100% open for play, love, hate, or disregard <3 Please feel free to write in a reply to this post that your character creates an Eros Day card (Also known on Earth as Valentines Day Card) for their loved ones, and/or leaves one for a character who might need some extra hugs this month. Have your character's react/reply/write about this on any role playing site anyway you see fit. :)
If you do write, I will be handing out these http://gr.2phatgeeks.com/awards/23-mini.png icons in thanks, so let me know if you write about it but not in this thread ;) ! ))

And, because she dug the thought, into the Give Love Jar she slipped a few cards.


#1 "Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, Sugar is Sweet, Nice @ss."

#2 "You look so good, brings a tear to the eye."

#3 "Baby, you are ... I mean... Day-um!"

The duo detectives of Spade and Heartt had done a thorough job of warning all the local food delivery services against orders made to their address at 1142b North Avenue, but they had over looked the fact that a city like the RhyDin would cater to certain other deliverable proclivities. It had only taken Bob twenty minutes of calling around and an offer of double the usual fee to have a "Vampire-Snacks-on-Wheels" swing by, no questions asked, under the pretenses that he was a vampire new to the area and suffering from the need of a late night bite. The pretty dark haired kid who showed up did as asked and came around to the back -- his will power had proven nothing in the way of Bob's awesome might. It was by this fashion that the all powerful (and totally awesome fanfic author who was in talks with Hollywood about publishing his latest work about the pink haired mafia darling, Flaire Carron) demibeing snuck out under the noses of his housemates.

It was sometime after he'd made his latest visit to the Twilight Island to watch his muse but before his second visit to the late night candy shop (where he was enjoying tormenting a certain fellow blogger by the name of Carl) that he came across "The Love Booth". The idea tickled the chaos beast. Love was always one of this favorite things, somewhere under causing city wide mayhem but above all night blogging sessions, and it was impossible to resist -- especially as hopped up on redvines and coke as he'd gotten himself. Not that Bob had ever loved anyone, or could love anyone in the sense that all the mortals around him loved, but he certainly liked to think about it. Nice house, beautiful wife, dozens of little half-demigod children flying around, white picket fence, and all the other stuff, too. He snatched up a card and a pen and inked a little note, giggling at his own comedic prose:

"Mary Marlowe,

Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
These loves notes are for dorks,
So this one's for you."

Bob snickerfitted and dropped the note into the jar on the right. Who knew? Maybe it would bring him luck in the future. He was due a visit from his favorite pen pal, who finally lived close enough to drop by. Maybe he'd be lucky and she'd bring those delightful car bomb cupcakes..

Another trip to the marketplace to gather things for the hatchlings and children. Winter seemed to drag on, and many of the young ones had grown weary of the chill, needing something new.

Horned head soon canted as a bit of red caught her eye. She'd not remembered that booth there before..

Still, she deviated her path, just a bit, pausing to eye the papers and glue, and the bane of scales, everywhere.. Glitter.

A grin as she though for a moment, before her tail coiled around a nearby pen.

Dearest Aurthur, I love you with all my heart, until the end of time, and beyond.

Soon another paper had been chosen, and though she'd most likely regret it.. a taloned paw dipped into a bit of sparkly red glitter, then was pressed onto the paper. A perfect dragon's paw print, and in the scrawl..{Her writing has since gotten better from the once nearly unreadable scribble it had once been..} You are someone's sunshine. This soon was nudged into the give love jar.

Painstakingly, Melanie put fledgling skill with words onto paper colored the darkest red.

"My people, Clarice, see the idea of love differently than so many others do. We don't share roses, we don't buy chocolates. We live a spartan life for a simple reason. If I were to buy you roses weekly, would this day mean anything or would what we share be sullied by the hands of normality? I think, sadly, that it would be the last. Make nothing special, intentionally, and the days will fill themselves with a unique, surprising blend of happiness, I guess. I could, however, ramble in the style that fits some people. Instead, I'll say this. Could that I would, I should be pleased to know what caused this meeting to happen. I say that now, for I am weak and seek petty validation to the steps taken along life's road. I rescind that, I'm just too lazy to start this over again. I'm still not very good at writing. I don't want to know. Angels, I think, are so special because people know so very little about them. They'd become common if we knew why or how. Any mystery would, it'd lose the allure behind it. I don't want to know how, why or when. I just need to know that you're here. Frankly, that's more than I deserve."

Another letter was dropped into the box.

"Terry and Peaches, Peaches and Terry. I know you'll both get lots of these. I don't understand this holiday and frankly, I don't care to for reasons I'm sure both of you can guess. You've dealt with enough of my rants. There's so much that could be said, I guess. I could find a quote from a movie, I could find some archaic poem and murmur the words, silken lipped, against this paper. Brevity, they say, is the soul of wit and simplicity the true form of beauty. You two have become lighthouses along a rocky shore, each of you, in your own way, illuminating the safe haven that is a harbor cut from friendship. I find myself sinking into debt I'll ever repay you for but, for once, I don't mind. If friendship should leave me beholden, I offer only reciprocating thoughts and my very life, should that poor offering be enough to balance such a golden scale."

Finally, a third letter was slipped into the box, though this one wasn't marked for anyone in particular.

"I'm not going to send you hugs, I'm not going to send you blown kisses. I will, however, hug you and blow you a kiss the next time I see you, if you tell me who got this. I'm enclosing, however, the final pictures I'll ever do for the Silk Sheets, I hope you like them and the Valentine's Day outfit. Back to hugs and kisses. I'd sooner show my affection in the form of a simple promise. When all, you think, is lost, look towards the poorly lit sky. The moon, in it's vain battle to spread light across a world swallowed by shadow, has not given up. Take heart, stranger, in the knowledge that like so many moons, others will not, can not and have not forgotten you, nor have they given up the fight. Though the face is unknown, the plea unheard, should it be brought into said light, the answer will be swift, sure and inevitable. I would not offer love, not on this day. Rather, I would offer hope that, somehow, if the sun gives you one more day, you may find whatever it is you so choose to love most dearly."

*While out on a trip into town to gather a few supplies for the lair, Aurthur came across the booth, blinking in surprise. He had never noticed it there before, and just had to investigate. Upon seeing the paper and glue and other various decorations, he realized what it was, and took some time to craft a beautifully shaped heart to write upon.*

"To my beloved Icer, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you, and know how lucky I am to have a wife and mate as beautiful and loving as you. I will love you in this life and the next. We are soulmates, and shall be together forever. I love you my darling Icer Shimmerscale."

*He smiled as he finished this one and made another smaller heart to write a note on it.*

"If ever you feel you are not loved, come see us at the Shimmerscale Orphanage, where we will love you like family."

*He put this one in the love to give box, and was off on his way, a new spring in his step.*

Time for his search of the booth to pick out what he shall write on, with, and what other adornments shall go on his cards. He tells the gorgeous Viking woman: "I shall need a few minutes."

"'Tis fint, Kj?reste. I am in nei hurry, although I do want to find a place to have our middag meal ."

He begins by picking out some white paper with little red hearts as a border about the front. He draws several more, then scripts Hope and happiness to you? and on the inside he writes For today you are loved!

"I am going to make one for you, which I would like to be a mild surprise when you see what it says." He has not even started that one yet.

"Does that mean you want me to go window shopping, Victor?" Softly chortles.

"If you would not mind, my heart." He smiles at her, feeling the grin spread as he continues to look at her.

"Well na, I suppose I could find something interesting to look at for a little while."

Once Shy goes off to scout the local music store, he takes a few minutes to create a second card. The first goes into the Give Love jar and the second into his pocket. More than satisfied with that experience, he goes to join the redhead and have lunch.

As a hopeless romantic, Mary was also very easily swept up in festivities, whether they were sometimes commercialized or not. She was single (a widow), but that didn?t seem to register in her mind on Valentine?s Day. Instead she spent her time making her own version of cocktailed sweets for her friends (three of who had just recently moved into town) and going to a bar to watch a series of twenty five blind dates happen all at once!
If she happened to whistle a romantic tune or two to make the dates go more smoothly?well she?d never tell!

Gushing over romance and watching dozens of first kisses ?though she did fend off a couple attempts on her own person, was an entertaining way to spend her evening! It was in her walk home that she happened on the Love Booth in the Marketplace and it caused a series of girlish giggles to spill from her lips.

Since there were still stacks of paper out, glitter pens and markers, Mary set to work, even though she might have been a few raspberry bliss cocktails tipsy. Several valentines ended up in the ?Give Love? jar.

Things like Perfect Match, and Hearts to you were written among the drawings of hearts and puppies and kittens that Mary created. An artist in her own way, but her real set of skills were placed on the last valentine she created.

It was simpler than the others, with only a red lace heart on the cover of the slip of white paper folded in half. She?d be sure to leave it in the mailbox for the detective agency, addressed to her favorite demigod, Sparkles.

Upon opening where the words My gift is my song, and this one?s for you! Naturally, because she was a siren, the words were sung aloud and would leave the listening ears full of warm fuzzies for a moment or two.

Being a Siren had its perks.