rosavelle | ✴ you're gonna be popular ✴ january intro / catchall

[As Fallow arrives in Rosavelle, the Lily common room is suddenly looking a lot...pinker. It may have something to do with the small blonde woman having come back from an errand of using the modicum of allowance she received upon arrival on an appropriate chic cold-weather ensemble: as glamorous as the gown she arrived in is, it's hardly practical for being out and about, so she's obtained a more-practical-but-still-a-bit-sparkly frock and a light pink coat. She's also carrying a bouquet of flowers that she's setting into a vase when she notices a new roommate.]

Hello there. A flower-seller gave these to me at a reducified rate as a welcoming castle-warming gift. Everyone's so kind here!

We'll be roommates for the upcoming seasons, won't we? I'm Glinda.

[Yayoi doesn't actually spend much time at the barracks. She sleeps there sometimes, but she catches naps wherever she pleases. So, even though it's later in the day, she's just now getting up after a nap at the beds. She has her coat from home pulled tight around her- An oversized coat with a fuzzy hood and cuffs, and most importantly... an emblem on the back of nine fox tails, in rainbow colors.

And also, she's just sort of looking confused at how pink things now are.]

Huh? Oh, uh, I'm Yayoi.

They're probably just nice 'cause we're from the castle.

[Oh, the fluff and the rainbows on this girl are adorable, Glinda thinks, her smile growing a bit.]

That can only be a good thing, right, Yayoi? It means they already like Callie. So step one of however many steps it takes to make Callie a great leader is already well on its way!

Or people are kissing ass because they're powerful.

... I dunno if they're already that beloved... In the first place, has anyone seen them out mingling with the normal people?

Well...hm.

[Glinda frowns in thought, electing to completely ignore the idea of people just kissing...ahem, showering Callie in affection simply because they're a princess.]

I've only recently floated in myself, but I can't say I have. We'll have to take advantage of any celebratorial occasions to give Callie the chance to put themself out there and make friends with the common folk!

I tried during the last festival, but I swear Nadeshiko lost the Princess... but when I said that, she looked mad. But the Princess definitely wasn't there.

[What Could Have Happened There.]

[On certain late nights throughout January when the tasks of the day have been completed, Glinda can be found searching through the magical volumes of the castle's library, humming to herself as she searches through the texts.]

Teach me how to read a magic book, lalalalala...

[It's also possible if someone shows up at late night or early morning at the library, they'll find Glinda draped over an armchair like a martyr in marble, fast asleep with a book entitled Love Languages for Utter Novices on top of her head.]

[ early in the morning it is!

kyoshika's already completed her morning training and has gone back to the library for her routine of seeking out anything she can read. coming across someone sleeping, she doesn't know if she should really disturb them or not.

...best to go ahead, though. ]

Madam? Excuse me, miss? The sun has risen.

Mmuuuh...just a clocktick...

[She murmurs sleepily like her alarm just went off, then the book slides off her face.]

...this isn't my bed.

[ aw, how charming. with a brief chuckle, kyoshika folds her arms. ]

Truly, it is not. Perhaps you enjoyed your book quite more than you anticipated.

[How does one read a magic book? Ryu can't help but think it's much like any other book; though his humming is, perhaps, off-key.]

[As for him, he's looking at the textiles.]

[A good question! Especially if it's in a language basically nobody can read anymore!]

Hello! Are you working on a project too?

Several. Among them making sure my own clothes don't give out on me.

[He knows they've seen better days. Still, he holds up the books on the making of clothing.]

And I suspect we can only ask the tailors for so long.

But isn't that what the tailors' job is? It's a good thing to give them business.

[She attempts to get a look at the books, rising the balls of her feet up a bit if necessary since she's on the shorter side and wearing her extremely casual one-inch heels today.]

Unless you're going to be a seamstress...seamster...seam-masseur.

Well, I was planning on learning Imprintwork. It's really either this or machining and smithing and while I have handled hot metal, needlework is a little less...

[He hunts for the right words.]

TIme-consuming?

[With a little hum, Dante pulled a book off of a shelf. It was thick, bound in light leather and it had a good, crisp feel when he'd turned a page. He wore an innocent smile as he leafed through it--something with a great deal of old poems from influential people throughout Rosavelle's history. Something about what he'd been found in that book looked perfectly satisfying to him.

He carried that book with him to a chair none too far from Glinda, moving to the center of its text with a great deal of care before draping it over his face for a nap.]

[Glinda shifts slightly, and the book falls off her face and onto the ground, startling her awake with a combination of noise and sudden sunlight.]

AAAH-- My book.

[She swivels her legs off the armrest back onto the chair normally with a little too much poise for being completely alone. Though, turns out she isn't.]

...are you sleeping?

[She asks Dante with a whisper, as if she didn't just make a racket that would wake him up and he won't respond if he is.]

[ Dainsleif does so happen take the time to bring himself into the library on later nights, as part of his decisive, and quiet, solitary investigation - even if some of the material is sometimes something that makes him give pause. Before putting up with it and reading through it.

But, one of those nights, he has someone singing, and for a moment closes whichever piece of literature he had decided to pick up himself...for the moment. ]

...Are you having trouble reading some of the books?

[A snowman-building contest seems like the perfect time for Glinda to get some magic practice in, so here she is, decked out in her new cold-weather wear and carrying her staff with her.]

Snowman.

[Glinda points her wand at the snow, but nothing really happens. Maybe the tiiiniest bit of shimmering if you squint.]

Oh, silly me. I need a stack of snow before I can make it into a man.

[So she starts to do so the old-fashioned way, though she's mourning her poor chic gloves a bit as she bunches it together, shivering a little from touching it.]

Bbbbbbbrrrrrrrrr!!

The snow-man, yes, a fascinating exercise in humanity's attempts to find meaning and patterns in inert matter. It's all water, frozen into crystalline lattices. There is nothing special about it, nothing even capable of the mechanistic processes of life exhibited my most organisms, and yet, through the work of hands, we may shape them into something approximating a human (or anything, really). And despite the unchanged properties of the snow, the inertness of frozen water, we perceive life to this being it does not possess, a shared delusion of a sort, occurring through the wonder of pareidolia, with a touch of the power of suggestion, for the "snow-man," is such a pervasive cultural concept that we are conditioned to imagine this is a living being because others say it is so. Such are the lies we are willing to tell others to tell ourselves.

[There's a moment of awkward silence as this slight, reedy little dweeb in a fluffy black winter cloak stands and stares at the mound of snow Glinda's struggling to shape. After a while, he seems to notice the silence.]

Oh, where are my manners? My name's Hayden, Hayden Sorrows. What's yours?

[Oh. Oh, those are a lot of big words that she kind of sort of knows and others she really, really doesn't. Maybe she'll unpack that whole collective lie thing sometime later tonight when the implications hit her for real, but right now she's just making a snowball.]

Because it looks friendlier. Who doesn't like looking at something friendly?

[She says it like it's her own piece of wisdom.]

I'm Glinda Upland. Of the Upper Uplands. But my friends just call me "Glinda". And everybody else does too, since it's my name.

I suppose it is more pleasant to look at something friendly, yeah.

[Hayden's eye twitches as he remembers some of the art classes at the Bleak Academy where they had contests like this, molding the light-devouring clay from the rivers of Perdition to pots or sculptures. Every time a classmate showed him one of their creations or asked his opinion, it was always a 50/50 whether the little clay beasts they made would stir to life and attack him. Even the silliest or most innocuous pinch-pots had a chance of growing teeth or extending some monstrous proboscis. He doesn't say that out loud.]

Though appearances are often deceiving. You, uh, have much practice? Building snowmen, I mean.

✴ you're gonna be popular ✴ january intro / catchall

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How To Read A Magic Book

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Snowcase Quest

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