simran | budding

[retethered]

What: Simran catch-all for Budding! Content warnings by thread.

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printemps boutique, bellvine hill | open

[retethered]

[ Wander into Printemps Boutique in March, and you might find Simran working the shop! She's able to provide a unique service: you assemble the idea of an outfit first, try it on in her psychic mirage, swap pieces out as needed, and walk out with a complete fit. It appears to be a remarkable success! She's swamped with requests, and business is booming. Catch her before or after a shift, or perhaps during one, as she offers you an eager smile.]

So! What typa fit you lookin' for?

[roundofavalon]

O-Oh! Um... I-I'm just looking! I've never really had a chance to shop for stuff like this until now, so...

[ Everything looks so cute... cuter than any dress she's ever worn...! Not that she's ever worn anything nearly as bright and pastel, so it's not a high bar to clear. ]

[retethered]

[ Aw, she's cute! ]

Well, what type of vibe do you like to give off? Sweet? Confident? Quiet?

[likememore]

[On the one hand, Ena really wants to take Mizuki out on that threatened shopping date! Like, it's something she's been looking forward to! On the other... she's still got a lot to think about and it's weighing on her a little. And that means she needs to do some considering on her own, perhaps. Which has led her feet to carry her to Bellvine Hill alone, mind whirling. So when she hears Simran's voice on the way into Printemps, she gives a friendly, grateful smile back.]

Up for a challenge? I'm looking for cute, and maybe a little understated. Something I can move in, but I don't mind dressy. A little flowy... oh. And... [A pause, before she lowers her tone a bit.] Does your- [she waggles her fingers at her eyes to indicate Simran's optic nerve manipulation-] stack with Meramancy? I need to be a little extra to explain myself, I think.

[retethered]

Super does stack, yep. And Ena? I love when you get extra. [ That cake was good. ]

[steel_over_blood]

[ Bulat's in the shop sporting his autumn look again, the black leather jacket painted with tulips. He's dubious about whether he can pull off pastels, but there's only one way to find out... ]

I thought I'd try something new! Put me in something a couple notches softer than my usual image!

[ He's always eager for a personal challenge!! ]

[retethered]

Oh, man, this is gonna be fun. Okay, lemme think...

[ It takes a couple tries, and Simran has to dismiss some woolen options given the warming weather—but eventually Simran settles on an off-white blouse with a lace-up front; in a loose fit, it helps to hide some of Bulat's harder edges. To this she adds a light blue in a looser weave to prevent overhearing, and light tan pants in a slightly wider leg than Bulat typically wears. ]

You're a big guy, so softness for you is gonna come from looser stuff that kinda drapes, and light colors'll help too. It''ll prob'ly get a little tougher the warmer it gets, 'cause you'll want less clothing to beat the heat, but this lets you throw on and shrug off a coat based on whether it's chilly or warm. Whaddaya think?

[liedol]

[ Ai's been hearing chatter about a particularly savvy stylist over at Printemps Boutique and as a professional keeping-up-with-trends type by necessity back home, it seems smart to come over and see what all the fuss is herself. So next time she has a free day, she makes her way over with an outfit vaguely in mind - and pauses in surprise when she sees just who this mystery stylist is. ]

Oh, wow...! I heard people talking about a new stylist here but I had no idea it was you!

1/2

[retethered]

Oh, Ai! This is perfect, I need your help with a very serious problem.

2/2

[retethered]

How do you deal with excess popularity. I am dying. Ai. Help.

early march

[kriskross]

Mm? Dunno...

[ this scrawny, androgynous individual with their messy hair, scratchy voice, carrying themself with a particular kind of flat melancholy might have something about them that could be familiar to a girl like simran. could it be the oversized sweater, the beat up sneakers, or the unevenly applied black nail polish? they're clean and don't look sick, but everything about them screams a kind of withdrawn bare minimum sort of existence. they glance up at her. ]

Something that fits and doesn't cost much, I guess.

[ very helpful, kris. but... if they're gonna spend a lot of time here, they should at least figure out clothing. might as well ask around. ]

[retethered]

That's it? Come on, you gotta... [ Simran frowns. Androgynous, nail polish, oversized sweater—she gets it, but...

...actually, maybe she can make it work? ] Hang on, actually, let's see what I can do.

[ She freshens up the existing sneakers and swaps the existing sweater for a looser dark flannel with lighter sleeves, which she layers over a similarly light-colored blouse. The drape of the blouse and the flannel cardigan are cut to androgynize Kris' hip-shoulder ratio, and she offers a few more tips on how to do so as she finishes up the illusion. ]

And yeah, for the shoes, I honestly just recommended getting your existing set repaired? There's a cobbler a couple streets over who's like, she's surprisingly adaptive with modern footwear. As long as the rubber's intact it'll be pretty cheap.

Hm. Still feel like it needs something... [ She frowns, waves her hand, and adds a pink scarf to the ensemble.

Yeah, she's recreated Kris' dark world outfit in modern casual. ]

Best I could do without a more specific direction, homie. What's the verdict?

mouette docks, marelys | open

[retethered]

[ Simran is a daily sight at the docks from the day the Herbstreich ship gets into town to the day it leaves. She asks anyone and everyone from the country anything she can politely get away with—where they're from, how often they travel, how long the voyage takes, what they think of Rosavelle, who's in charge of their country, and so on. Of course, politeness where merchants are concerned means buying their stuff, so you might catch her with any of the following:

a single pack of sausages, which she frowns at in consideration.

a magical belt emblazoned with the symbol of a wolf. On putting it on, she may frown, as if expecting something, and then raise a hand to her head, feeling about for wolf ears.

an amber hair ornament, which grants her a fetching set of fiery highlights when worn.

a magically-enchanted pipe, which she experiments with casually. It has a very slight luring effect—not enough to divert people from their bath, but a few drift closer to her.

a large wheel of cheese, which she struggles to transport one-handed alongside her cane.

a book of Herbstreich fairy tales, which she brings to life in psychic mirage as she pages through it while sitting in a dockside cafe.

On the final day, she's conspired with the kitchens to give as many of the traders as she can some local sweets as a gift! She waves them off with a fond smile, and is only a little sad to see them go. ]

let's talk about fursonas i mean what

[nightwild]

Something in your hair? That's a cute belt.

[of COURSE she's here for the belt. But she's pausing as she's strolling past- She was heading towards the ships, but of course, she can't not say hi to Simran.]

[retethered]

It's supposed to give me wolf ears, but I think I mighta been scammed...

[generally_treacherous]

[ Simran has likely noticed Uther also hanging around chatting up folks from Herbstreich--a man of his considerable size is hard to miss. When he sees her struggling with the cheese, he huffs, and soon moves to bar her path. ]

Let me carry that.

[retethered]

Oh my god, dude, please. [ She happily lets him take the cheese wheel, which is more large than it is heavy. ] I truly, like—I mean, I knew buying stuff was gonna be the price of chatter for traders, but I don't even know what I'm gonna do with this yet. You know anybody who's on the hunt for like, foreign dairy?

[goldship]

[ What's that spinning the chair across from Simran around, placing a Sack full of mysterious contents on the ground next to the chair, and settling in backwards with her arms across the backrest? ]

Puttin' on a show, Simran?

[ Gold Ship. Gold Ship in her "Rosavelle" attire, the hat tilted at a rakish angle. She waves her hand at the psychic manifestations, revealing her glove to be slightly, uh... singed. In fact she smells distinctly of gunpowder and Fire.

Don't worry about it. ]

[retethered]

Sorta! The kids at the atelier are a big fan of my work, and I keep hearing that they're asking for me back...I don't think I can keep up with how often they want me, but maybe I'll show up once every couple weeks with a new story.

[ Simran frowns at the sack. Tragically, she used to get paid to Worry About It, and some habits die hard.] What do you got there?

[uncommonsense]

[ while haruhi herself had been mostly busy with her own deliveries, every so often she'd be sent towards the docks to catch one of the merchants to deliver them a letter. almost every time, she's been let down by the contents. just actual mail, nothing particularly heartwarming... at least, that she's aware of.

every so often, she'd seen simran talking to folks and realized that she's pretty sure she's seen her around before too. she must be pretty into trading or planning to start her own thing, maybe.

this time around, she's caught simran after she's received her book and pauses once she sees images sprouting around her. it's too interesting for her to pass up, so she winds up taking a seat close by. ]

That's really impressive. You've already learned how to do all of that?

[ she really will have to go the extra mile if she's going to win her wager, huh? ]

[retethered]

Huh? Oh, this isn't Meramancy, I've been at this for like. A couple years? [ She frowns, recalling. ] Yeah, li'l more than two at this point. I think weird brain stuff is my world's, like, capital-T Thing.

[lovelikeyou]

That is such a big cheese.

[ Starry eyes and all. She'll get around to helping probably! ]

lilac courier's loft, castle grounds | open

[retethered]

[ Wander into the Courier's Loft for to help out today, and you may observe something that looks like magic: the pigeons are guided to and fro by streams of light. When the birds land, they seem to fall asleep quickly. On a chair, Simran sits, occasionally guiding birds in front of her to feed them before another stream of light directs them to a perch. She smiles at you when you come in. ]

Hey! I, uh, could use some help with actually tying and untying the messages? My fingers are starting to hurt.

[They do look a little raw. ]

[hallucinogem]

[em does think the spectacle is pretty magical, and finding out the source of it all is simran is one of the less surprising things that could've happened to her. she ambles up casually (roguishly, even) and waves.]

Hey, Simran! I got you. [she sits down in a chair next to her friend and tries her best to slot herself into the routine that simran's established. her fingers are deft, and she's never really complained of pain in them, so she's a quick study on helping out. she has been since she got here, really. it's kind of astounding to her.]

So. Have I missed anything exciting with you since the last time we talked? 'Cause I somehow ended up neck-deep in a rivalry.

[prickster]

[ Hypothetically, one could get all kinds of dirt on someone just by intercepting one of these hardworking birdies.

Chelsea does not have that impulse, presently, but she is curious how feasible such a ploy would be if she ever felt like it was needed. Getting the opportunity to help Simran in return for her assistance with that rhyming sickness the other day is a happy coincidence.

There's a bright smile on her face as she gives Simran a little wave. ]

Oh, I'm great with my hands. You picked the right girl.

[ Chelsea lances her fingers, stretches them, then takes a seat next to her. ]