Welcome to Rosavelle!

[royaldecreemods]

INVITATION

You're going about your day when you notice an envelope that most certainly wasn't there before. It's beautiful, if a little old-fashioned: pale pink paper, sealed with a pressed flower instead of wax and your name written in looping cursive that shimmers faintly in the light.
Inside, the letter begins;

Dearest friend—
Goodness, I hope that isn't too forward. We've not met, after all. But I have been told that when one writes an invitation, it's important to sound sincere.

My name is Calanthe Rosabella Petalia de Amoré. I am the Crown Princess of Rosavelle. It's a little island kingdom far, far away - so far that it may not exist quite in the same world as yours.

I know this must sound terribly strange, but I'm writing because I need your help. You see, my coronation is approaching soon, and Rosavelle's magic - the Everbloom - responds to the strength of one's heart. It's said that a ruler must understand love to truly awaken it. Not just romance, mind you, but all kinds of love: friendship, kindness, care.

The trouble is… I'm not very good at it. I've read so many books about love, but real people don't seem to follow the same rules the novels do.

That is why I'm writing to you. The Everbloom - our most ancient and wondrous magic - has granted me the means to reach across worlds. I'm inviting a handful of remarkable individuals, like you, to Rosavelle to help me learn. Not only to teach me what love means to you, but to help me see how it can bloom between friends, companions, and strangers alike.

I promise you'll be treated as an honored guest.

... It goes on like that for a while, whole paragraphs assuring you that you can leave whenever you want, no time will pass back in your world, the Everbloom's magic will keep you safe, etc etc… honestly it gets to the point that it starts to sound less like an invitation and more like a contract. But then, mercifully, the writer finds their footing again:

If you'll come, I'd be so very grateful. I know this is a strange request, and you owe me nothing - but still, I hope you'll consider it. Rosavelle is beautiful this time of year, and it is my hope that seeing it alongside fresh eyes will allow me to see it more clearly as well.

With all my thanks (and my hopes!)—
Princess Calanthe Rosabella Petalia de Amoré

Maybe you accept right away or maybe you dismiss it as a prank or something equally unimportant. No matter what you think when you first read it, your mind eventually turns back to that invite and your find yourself thinking that it might not be a bad idea…

And once you do, you feel the world going soft and sweet around you, the scent of blooming flowers filling your nose - and before you can quite process what's happening, you realize you've accepted.

ARRIVAL

You arrive in a haze of soft, rosy light. For a moment, everything is weightless - the air around you hums faintly, thick with warmth and the heady scent of flowers. When the haze fades, you find yourself standing beneath a vast glass dome that stretches impossibly high overhead. The light filtering through its pink-tinted panes paints everything in gentle rose and gold and petals drift through the air like drifting snow.

You are standing in the Everbloom's Greenhouse. The walls curve upward in graceful arches, every pane glimmering faintly and the air is warm, fragrant, and shimmering with faint motes of magic. Flowering vines climb the supports, colorful blossoms of all kinds spill from hanging baskets, and everywhere you look there's flowers, flowers, flowers.

At its heart stands the Everbloom, a colossal tree the likes of which you've never seen before. Its smooth trunk is faintly luminous and the canopy stretches so high that you can't see where it ends, vanishing into a haze of golden light and drifting petals. The air around it hums softly with power and for a moment, all you can do is stare up at it in awe.

A moment later, movement stirs: castle attendants glide forward in elegant uniforms, carrying towels, refreshments, and generally doing their best to make sure everyone's arrived safely. After all, you're not alone. Around you, other figures begin to appear - some blinking in wonder, some already steady on their feet. Each seems as out of place as you, drawn from distant worlds and disparate lives but under the rosy light they all seem to come together like flowers gathered into the same bouquet.

Those who stumble are gently guided toward a bench cushioned with flowering moss. Cool towels and drinks infused with rose and mint are offered freely. Eventually, once it seems like everyone's arrived and mostly gotten their bearings, one of the attendants - a lady-in-waiting as you'll eventually find out - speaks up.

"You are most welcome to Rosavelle," she says, dipping into a polite bow. "Their Princess will be hosting a banquet this evening to greet you all properly. Until then, please take your time to get settled and familiar with your surroundings. If you need anything at all, do not hesitate to ask."

For now, you're free to mingle. This is your chance to get your bearings, meet your fellow arrivals, and explore your surroundings. Beyond the main atrium, you can glimpse winding paths lined with blooming hedges and fat, colorful blossoms. Somewhere in the distance, you can faintly hear birdsong. You feel a little tug somewhere in your chest and if you follow it, you might just come across a flowerbed somewhere in the Greenhouse that you somehow know as your own.

After some time to mingle and acclimate, the attendants return, clapping their hands gently to draw attention.

"It's nearly time to prepare for the evening banquet! If you'll come with us, we'll see to your attire."

DRESS UP

You're led from the warmth of the greenhouse through a series of winding marble corridors until you're ushered through a set of grand double doors into a suite of guest rooms bustling with motion. Tailors, stylists, and attendants hurry between privacy screens, racks of lavish garments and trays piled high with glittering jewelry. Silks and satins gleam and lace and velvet catch the light in soft waves of color.

Tailors and stylists bustle about, armed with measuring tapes, pins, and brushes. The staff are cheerfully firm about making sure everyone looks their best for the banquet but nobody's forced into anything they don't want; the attendants listen to everyone's preferences and somehow find something flattering for even the most reluctant participant. Whether you comply with good humor or grumble through the process, it's impossible not to get swept up in the flurry of preparation. … of course, if you're determined to be a grump about the whole thing, you're welcome to wait outside until everyone's dressed up nicely.

The attendants encourage everyone to chatter as they work or even to lend a hand to another guest struggling with their ensemble. Maybe it's out of curiosity - the staff are polite, professional, but it's clear that dressing guests from other worlds is a novelty they want to enjoy.

As final adjustments are made and mirrors fill with transformed reflections, the bustle slowly quiets. Attendants exchange satisfied looks, then guide the group once more through the corridors. The faint strains of music drift down the corridors until at last, you find yourself before the towering double doors of the Azurite Banquet Hall, carved from the stone it takes its name from. The lady in waiting pauses just long enough to smooth a wrinkle here, adjust a collar there, and make sure everyone is present before pushing the doors open.

BANQUET

The Azurite Banquet Hall glows with warm candlelight reflected in polished marble floors and the air inside smells of wine and roses. Long tables stretch the length of the hall, each one dressed in embroidered runners and heaped with platters of food that look almost too beautiful to eat and in the corner, a string quartet plays a soft, lilting melody.

At the head of the room stands your host, Princess Calanthe Rosabella Petalia de Amoré. Draped in pale gold, they look every bit the part of a royal... though the slightly nervous way they adjust their posture speaks of someone not entirely at ease in the spotlight. When they catch sight of the assembled guests, though, they brighten a bit. Their hands are clasped too tightly around their wine glass, but their voice is bright and earnest.

"Ah - good evening, everyone! I - well, goodness, where does one even begin?

First of all, thank you. Truly, thank you all for coming here - to Rosavelle, and to me. I know this must all seem terribly strange - one moment you were in your own world, and the next you're here. It's strange to me too, you know. I've been imagining this for weeks, and yet somehow it still doesn't feel quite real.
Ah - oh! I suppose I should introduce myself properly. My name is Calanthe Rosabella Petalia de Amoré. I am the Crown Princess of Rosavelle, soon to be its sovereign, though I admit that still feels a little surreal to say aloud.

I invited you here because - well, I imagine all of you read your invitations. The Everbloom, our kingdom's oldest and most sacred magic, is bound to the heart and mine is… embarrassingly, quite uneducated in such matters. I couldn't imagine anyone in this world I could burden with such a problem and so I thought - perhaps - those who come from other worlds might help me."

... suddenly, they look sheepish.

"That said, ah - there is a small complication. It is. Um. Frowned upon by most scholars to interfere with the affairs of other worlds, even with the best of intentions and I fear it would cause quite a stir if word got out. So for the time being, we'll need to keep your origins a secret. Please don't worry, though - we've arranged everything you'll need. Over the next month, we'll be teaching you about Rosavelle and all its customs so that when you venture out for the Wilting festival, you'll feel quite at home.

I realize that's rather a lot to ask, and I'm - well, I'm deeply grateful for your patience. I promise to do my best to make this worth your while.

So, once again, thank you. For answering my invitation. For being here, together, tonight.

Now then-"

They raise their glass, cheeks pink but eyes bright.

"To new beginnings, and to the bonds we have yet to form. May they bloom as beautifully as the flowers of Rosavelle... oh, that sounded quite good, didn't it? A toast - to all of you!"

As the toast echoes through the hall, the music swells again - a graceful waltz this time - and attendants sweep forward to usher guests toward the buffet tables.

There's something for every palate: platters of lemon-butter shrimp and rosemary-crusted fish, seared scallops on saffron rice and fillets of calendula-cured salmon alongside oysters resting in crushed ice and lobsters cracked open beside dishes of herb butter. It's not all seafood, either - whole roasted ducks glazed in something fruity dot the table, alongside lamb, chicken and a mouthwatering roast beef.

Between the platters, bowls of vegetables offer roasted root vegetables glistening with sweet glaze, delicate salads strewn with edible petals, caramelized carrots, blistered cherry tomatoes and crisp greens grown. And, of course, baskets of warm, golden bread wait beside whipped butter and creamy sauces.

If you're in the mood for sweets, there's desserts in dizzying abundance: sugared fruit tarts, meringues shaped like blossoms, chocolate soufflés dusted with candied violet, and pastries of all kinds filled with custard, chocolate and all manner of fruity, flowery fillings.

A side table gleams with crystal decanters and goblets: bottles of wine, deeply colored mead and delicate floral liqueurs seem to be the alcoholic offerings but there's carafes of chilled fruit water steeped with mint for anyone who's not inclined towards spirits.

If you're feeling bold, the cleared space near the musicians makes a perfect dance floor. Perhaps you find yourself drawn into a dance, or perhaps you linger at the buffet, trading stories with a stranger over a shared plate of sugared pastries. Or maybe you'll take the opportunity to introduce yourself to your host now they've made an appearance.

Eventually, as the night wears thin, the quartet's melody softens to a gentle hum. Candlelight flickers low. The attendants appear once more, smiling as they begin to guide everyone toward the final stop of the evening.

HOUSEWARMING

The banquet winds to a gentle close and ne by one, the guests are gathered once more by the castle attendants who lead the way through dimly glowing corridors. The halls are quieter now, the rosy light of evening filtering through stained glass in sleepy shades of pink and gold. Everyone is lead through the castles and out into the grounds, their splendor only a little dulled by the darkness starting to settle over the castle.

"Your lodgings are just ahead," the lady in waiting says, her voice hushed out of respect for the hour. "You've each been assigned to a house - named for the flowers that chose you."

Slowly but surely, everyone's names are called and each person is supplied a heavy brass key to a house named for a flower you may have seen blooming somewhere today. When they speak the name of your house, something in you stirs with faint, inexplicable recognition, like you know it already - or maybe it knows you.

In any case, the barracks themselves are nothing like the name implies: warm, inviting, and softly lit by enchanted lanterns. Each house has its own cozy common area where low couches and plush chairs are gathered around softly glowing hearths. A long table in the center has been set with some late-night comforts, in case you somehow have any room left in your belly - plates of fruit and pastries, steaming pots of tea, and rich cocoa dusted with rose sugar.

The attendants leave you to settle in for the night, with a promise that the barracks staff will prepare meals from tomorrow onwards but mostly, you'll be left to your own devices. You could just track down your room and crash for the night but now seems as good a time as any to get to know your new housemates.

(CODE)

Comments

Hydrangea: Inside;

[hjadningavig]

[ All things considered, the welcoming aspect of their arrival occurs far more smoother than Dainsleif believes he can ever imagine. Old habits too die hard for him, as a man who oft tends towards a feeling of inner tension, awaiting for any potential unfortunate surprises. But, his venture in checking out such a request has no emissary from the Abyss revealing themselves, and he doesn't feel any such things lurking in every corner.

It remains the same by the time he slips by quietly, not the type to liven things up as he roams the Hydrangea lodgings. He treks further still, and after his own observations, locates Archer attending to tea.

...He would not necessarily consider himself the kind of person to enjoy tea as his choice of drink, but it isn't impossible for him to partake when it is so freely offered, gloved fingers curled around a cup. He spots Archer in his quiet spot, and recalling the reason they are here, he makes a comment from where he's standing, off to the side. ]

It seems that this may take a bit to get accustomed to.

[wroughten_iron]

[By the time the banquet had ended, Archer had already pulled free his cravat and left it stranded on his bed with a number of small accessories added to the absurd ensemble he'd been forced into. When Dainsleif found him, he'd already warmed his stomach back up with tea, though he'd been thoroughly exhausted regardless. He was still re-acquainting himself with having a body.]

What do you mean? [His eyes fell to mark the cup in Dainsleif's hand. Good. If he were going to fall back into old instincts and make tea as a host might, it was better for someone to accept the offer.]

[hjadningavig]

Everything seemed...so bright, and merry.

So lively. As should a celebration of a sort should be, of course.

[ Teyvat had times wherein its citizens engaged in lively displays, celebrations, and whathaveyou. But Dainsleif ever being caught in the middle of them? Ever being someone to involve himself in any? The chance of either remained at a zero. Though, it is certainly quiet now.

The experience still will require much of an adjustment phase for himself as well. ]

...I was only reminded of how long it has been since I have attended something so lively, and perhaps should anticipate it not being a one-off, given the circumstances. Though, in addition to that, I realize that living with others will be somewhat of an adjustment as well.

[wroughten_iron]

Hm. [At first, Archer did little else than turn to look from Dainsleif to the window and let his eyes follow the long span of bright lights just outside the window, extending down the lovely walkways and paths leading to other parts of that idyllic castle.

That man's perspective was terribly familiar--enough to make his brows wrinkle in some consternation. It wasn't annoyance with Dainsleif but a certain contempt for himself that gave rise to such an unhappy expression.]

Have you never enjoyed a shared living situation before? It can provide a potent shift in perspective.

[hjadningavig]

[ Dainsleif is patient, waiting as the other fixes his gaze on the scenery outside of the window, and even takes the time to raise the cup to partake in another sip.

But, he kept his observation sharp, on the lookout for any sort of tells - even with him still turned away. Though, despite feeling like a fish out of pond, he isn't exactly entirely...worried, per say. ]

I'm afraid the last time I had lived with someone was quite a long while ago. Temporary or otherwise. Rather than never having enjoyed a shared living situation before, it could be difficult to simply recall - for various reasons.

[ His happy memories of living with Vedrfolnir are gone. So, he doesn't know anymore. And when he traveled with the Traveler's sibling, it was bittersweet. It's not that he is saying "no", it seems that it is an answer that is strangely "I don't know", instead. ]

...Time being one of them. Perhaps it is not much of a surprise that I'll be curious about what kind of perspective change it might offer.

[wroughten_iron]

You may be in good company then. There are good people here who may give you incentive to enjoy yourself. [After dwelling on those thoughts, he'd decided that he wasn't among the ranks he'd described.

Even in the fuzzy reflection of that man in the window, Archer could see how Dainsleif held himself and expected he was being appraised one way or another. That would have come across paranoid to some but, to him, it was simply common sense.]

Provided there's enough time, I suppose. It's difficult to tell to what extent that training will go.

[Truth be told, Archer was exhausted. He hadn't wanted to rest yet, expecting it was some drawn-out attempt of his to keep from letting countless memories congeal into a sludge of maddening nightmares. So, he enjoyed his tea and put it off as long as he physically could.]

[hjadningavig]

[ Maybe so. Though, Dainsleif isn't quite certain as of yet where he'd fit or fall in with the assortment of people here or there. But, he has more or less allowed himself a presence in such a foreign world.

One in which communication with others will be far more key than it has on Teyvat. He wonders what the few who have seen of him would say, to see him willingly step into a foreign world. ]

Time will only tell. [ Where he's personally concerned. But, rather just about himself... ] Though, do you imagine yourself adjusting well to all of this? Regardless of any potential previous experiences.

After all, it is one matter to accompany or live with others in a place filled with familiarity, than another to do so in a foreign world entirely. And, of course, dedicate yourself to training within it; to learning so many aspects such a new realm has to offer. To integrating.

[ He is just curious what the man may think of things in terms of acclimating himself as an individual, with what may appear to be different experiences than his. ]

[wroughten_iron]

I'll adjust as much is necessary.

[There was a cut-throat element to the way he'd responded, so easily imitating the dry and taciturn mindset of a mercenary. Even as he warmed his hands with his tea, there was a distant built into his words that longed for him to be treated as anything but human.

It was Dainsleif's direct line of questioning that made it possible for him to reply in turn, as if there were no point at all in being coy or elusive. It was set in stone.]

I can't speak to which margins success will be found within but I'll dedicate myself to assisting the Princess in whichever capacity I may. That's all.

[hjadningavig]

[ A cutting response indeed that tears through the bit of lingering languid feeling from earlier's excitement.

Dainsleif recognizes that kind of directness. It is a exact tone one uses without exception to make clear their stance. A kind he himself used before, though there is perhaps a slight difference.

Though, perhaps he is overthinking it. He doesn't hesitate in his reply nonetheless, not even taking the moment to gaze back to his own tea. ]

I see.

Everyone has their own reasons for coming here, and their own will to see it through.

In the end, I also understand seeing these matters through to the end.

[wroughten_iron]

[It wasn't commonplace by any means to expect for someone he'd only just met to match the tempo of his thoughts. Watching Dainsleif through the shadow of his reflection in the window, Archer let the bottom of his cup touch its saucer before he straightened himself to relax.

His gaze hung to the surface of his tea and what warped shapes it created of him.]

How accepting of you. [For the life of him, he couldn't say one good thing without it sounding backhanded, but he at least realized as much and corrected himself with a sigh.] There's an overabundance of young people who'd prefer reveling in a mutual desire to overshare and demand more from others. It's appreciated that you're more grounded.

[hjadningavig]

[ Dainsleif is an inherently curious individual, so of course it's only natural that he's going to have questions. Though, poking at people's private life and all that? Not quite his modus operandi.

The comment Archer gives sounds harsh, but there's enough time for him to continue speaking, as it were, and he can feel that give the real kind of intention behind it. Therefore, Dainsleif decides not to pay it much mind. ]

It could be the wisdom of age and experience. Though, even if that wasn't the case, we just met, and we have barely begun to settle in.

...We'll have time to learn about one another other ways as a natural result of living in the same space as the days pass. Or not at all.

[wroughten_iron]

Possibly. [Wisdom and pessimism went hand-in-hand with him. As much as he would have preferred isolation from living, breathing people there was no doubt in mind that he'd be forced to be exposed to others over and over per the Princess' demands. If he were lucky, there would be plenty more like Dainsleif, willingly offering peace rather than demanding anything from him but... that would likely be little more than a pipe dream.

The thought made him grip the handle of his cup more tightly, exposing a crack. Before it could fall, he'd set it down--the crack repaired in just that moment.]

I'd prefer if the Princess decided to speak more of the mechanical problem at hand rather than indulging her peoples' social conventions. [Overall, it was just--]

That way, none of this would be needed in the first place.

[hjadningavig]

[ The rigors of life demanded less certainty than any form of consistence - Dainsleif knows this himself. Though, he also knows that even with everything concerned, it would certainly be a long while before he finds himself likely fulfilling things like most may be here. Socializing-wise, anyway.

He watches tense Archer's movements, the way he sets the cup down next, quiet enveloping him for a moment. In a bit of understanding. ]

That would be ideal, wouldn't it?

[ That, instead they must be shuffled through such things, even if it's a burden (and for Dainsleif too who has shied away from things for so long... it is.) ]

...Let us hope that we're not expected to do anything too ridiculous as a result of these...'social conventions'.

If you don't mind, I'd prefer to know who I'll be living with, however. My name is Dainsleif.

[wroughten_iron]

[Statistically speaking, Archer supposed at least one person would agree with him but he hadn't expected that moment to come so soon. He'd settled in his seat, leaning over his elbow to study Dainsleif a moment more before coming to a quiet conclusion.

He was no hermit or purveyor of mysteries who would understand what Dainsleif was at a glance but there was still something peculiar about him that gave him the inclination to take care with his words. It wasn't intimidation, despite how that man wielded stoicism rather skillfully, but a realization that he was speaking to someone insightful.

Those types were the most dangerous. A good pair of binoculars in the right hands, after all, could end a war in an evening.]

You may call me 'Archer'. I haven't planned on sharing my true name for my one purpose and, realistically, it isn't necessary for what I'm being asked to do.

[It was said without an ounce of ego. True to form, he was simply being pragmatic.]

[hjadningavig]

[ Dainsleif's inherent lack in socializing with most people tends to have him lean on some manner of practical care in choosing his words; though, there are certain mannerisms he believes he will find himself lacking. He takes another sip in thought.

Time will only tell if he can find himself less like a phantom among these people; a shade who will now mingle with the rest than not, more keen to watching or acting in the shadows. But, at the least, he believes in some regard this Archer is somewhat likeminded; not a bad start, he thinks. ]

I have heard of individuals adopting different names or using them for various purposes instead of their birth name, or what they considered to be their 'true' one.

As for my own...it is the one I have only ever been known by, no matter how the pages of history have come and passed in my world.

[ With that, he goes to finish up his tea, feeling the fatigue of earlier's social events settle inside his own weary self. He will go ahead to place the cup in the proper place, after ensuring it is clean. ]

I believe I'll leave it at that for now, however. After all of that excitement, I'm feeling inclined to rest.

[ And he is certain they will other chances to talk, so he begins to turn to head to his room. ]