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

Fatima | Luminous Arc 2 | Hyacinth

[shadowfrost]

Banquet

[ A whirlwind. That's the best way she can think to describe the absolute chaos she's met upon her arrival. Servants, tailors, bakers, candlestick-makers, all running amok to make sure the upcoming banquet is spectacular!

She didn't have a chance. She tried to sneak away, to get outside at least, but the insistent seamstresses were hard to counter. Thus, she's trying her best to walk in heels and trying even harder not to trip on the voluminous skirt of her dress. ]

a.

[ Tempted as she is to try and sneak away again, there's no way she'll accomplish it in this getup. So, she resigns herself to looking about, surveying the room, trying to find an accomplice who can either help her escape or take her mind off things.

Unfortunately for Calanthe and their party guests, Fatima swiftly draws a crowd as she samples mead and wine and different liqueurs at a pace that sees her fellow taste testers slumping away or falling asleep at the very table. ...she sure found a way to distract herself, alright.

Question is, do you try to unseat her in this impromptu drinking contest? Or do you pull her away before she passes out? ]


b.

[ Oh no, music. Despite her bare shoulders, she hasn't felt an ounce of cold all night. Not until now. Not until the steady violins and dulcet piano tunes send a shudder down her spine that shocks her out of her tipsy stupor.

Should one come too close, she grumbles something before steadying herself on the closest side chair. ]

You should probably ask someone else. I...don't know how to dance.

[ Nobody asked you that, Fatima. ]


Wildcard.

[ PM me for a custom starter! ]

b

[hintplease]

Oh! I'm sorry, I won't trouble you, then.

[Tsukasa turns and walks away. Let's not worry about exactly how far she gets before she suddenly stops and comes back.]

Wait, no, I was actually going to ask you what you thought of all this.

[shadowfrost]

[ Even while Tsukasa turns to walk away and walks back again, Fatima doesn't move. She stays steadying herself on the chair, the corners of her vision wobbly, and just lets herself experience the dull throb of sounds in the air and underfoot.

But she's not so lost in her vibing that she ignores Tsukasa on her second go-round. ]

The party? Or the invitation business?

[hintplease]

[Fatima does well enough at this that Tsukasa continues to fail to notice anything wrong.]

Both, but I meant the invitations. Isn't there something strange about the whole situation?

[shadowfrost]

We're dealing with royals here. Of course something strange is going on. They're strange by default.

[ She waves a hand dismissively to her own words. ]

But staying vigilant isn't a bad idea, I guess.

a

[wroughten_iron]

[When presented with a choice between water and wine for the first time in what seemed to be an incalculable amount of time, Archer feigned indifference effortlessly and picked up a glass of something rich without thinking. It wasn't until his fourth glass that he felt the familiar wash of warmth touch his cheeks that he realized there was was a woman a seat away from him with the same number of empty glasses beside her.

Then, he noticed a few flushed faces smooshed against fine table clothes, freshly stained violet.]

Ah. [Politely, he lifted his hand once more to ask for a glass but paused when he'd noticed an intense look written on her face.]

Am I getting in your way? I apologize if I've gotten in the way of your order.

[shadowfrost]

[ Even with her mind hazed over, Fatima notices Archer before he speaks up. It's just her attention that fully narrows in on him once she hears him. Dark skin, powder white hair. His appearance is striking and hard to miss. ]

You're fine. I'm taking my time with these.

[ By "these," she means the bottles of honey mead that she pulls over closer. ]

What were you ordering?

[wroughten_iron]

[The voracity of her thirst almost seemed admirable, even if he found his brows scrunching up together just following her most innocuous declaration.]

A red, simple enough. [He added, lifting his glass--]

Is it an unexciting choice?

[shadowfrost]

Liquor is liquor. None of them are "unexciting."

[ But, she'll poke at him a little bit. That's how to be sociable, right? Gently tease the handsome man who sat down next to you? Or something like that. ]

Usually they're pretty rich, though. You're really not going to eat anything with it?

A

[catsgothistongue]

[It was hard to ignore the crowd amassing around one of the table. Ranma wasn't doing much else other than stuffing his pie hole and loitering around. He just had to swing on by to where the throng is and see what the hubbub was about.

Ah. Drinking contest. He pegs it seeing the boozed out participants taking catnaps on the table, and the bottles with hints of an alcoholic smell lingering from them. Lotta chumps, can't seem to hold their liquor. Clearly, the blue-haired chick was dominating this competition.]

How many of these have you had so far?

[Hiya Fatima, there's a pigtailed fighter sitting perched on the table, perusing an empty glass. The tone in his voice doesn't indicate he plans on cutting her off.]

[shadowfrost]

[ That

That is a wholeass man on the table. With shoes and all. Where the food and drink are as well. ]

I forget.

[ She looks him over before leaning back a bit in her seat to give him a quizzical smirk. ]

Why are you on the table?

[catsgothistongue]

[Exsqueeze you! What kind of animal do you take him for? His shoes are off the table, over the side. Like a civilized gentleman.]

... Enough for your brain to be pickled, then. Gotcha.

[Oh-so subtly skirting around her question, Ranma slides off the table. Taking a full bottle with him, tossing it up and down in his hand, catching it by the nozzle every time. All with a faux-dispirited look and tone.]

And here I was, hopin' you'd be up to takin' on another challenger. I shouldn't push ya' when you've had enough to drink tonight.

[At that, his lips quirk up to a thinly veiled competitive smirk.]

[shadowfrost]

It's not pickled...

[ She grumbles but waves a hand to beckon him closer. ]

If you're going to throw challenging words at me, then come on. Let's see if your actions prove the worth of your words.

B

[soaringspear]

[ Kanade hasn't exactly been responsible in terms of her own alcohol consumption tonight either, but that doesn't seem to have impaired her too much. That said, when Fatima speaks up, Kanade's response isn't "I didn't ask that", it's: ]

Hm? That ain't an issue. Never too late to start learnin', y'know.

[ Dancing? That sounds like fun... ]

[shadowfrost]

I guess, but...

[ She hesitates. Will the potential blisters be worth it? A conundrum... ]

Your shoes would just get scuffed.

tHIS TAG GOT BURIED ORZ

[soaringspear]

Ain't an issue! I'm tougher than I look, I can handle it. Plus... I'm actually pretty good at leadin' newbies. We'll just do somethin' slow and simple.

[ She holds her hand out, offering it. ]

If nothin' else, I can promise I won't step on yours.

u forgot me weh u_u

[shadowfrost]

[ When she puts it like that...Fatima's hard-pressed to say no. She holds her hands on her hips and sizes Kanade up, but her guard drops just as easily as it's raised. She reaches for her hand with a soft sigh further softening her features. ]

If you insist. But... [ HUFF ] I did warn you.

banquet

[lovelikeyou]

Oh!

[ Rose may or may not have come over to ask for a dance at all. She's just been sort of walking around to meet people and see what she wants to do from there. But her response is a little bit instinctive, even after so long without meeting another Homeworld gem. ]

Dancing's easy! You just move with the music! You can do it however you want!

[shadowfrost]

[ Oh...oh she is tall. Tall, beautiful, and very, very pink.

Fatima gathers her wits and idly thumbs the Lapistier she tied to her choker. A natural reflex; the gem gives her comfort in a way only one's beating heart can. ]

Is that...how you learned how?

[lovelikeyou]

Sort of.

[ She idly twirls a ringlet of hair around one finger. ]

Gems don't really dance like humans. Not usually, anyway. [ ..... ] But, on Earth, we'd sneak off to watch them! They were so...free, so...happy. I wanted to do it, too.

[shadowfrost]

Gems?

[ For a moment, she's sure she misheard. Or perhaps "Gem" is a term for "people" where Rose is from? ]

I'm surprised. I thought dancing was a universal thing.

a

[goldship]

[ Fatima's latest defeated opponent finds themselves rather unceremoniously pushed out of their seat as Gold Ship slides right into it. There's a spark in her eyes as she locks them with Fatima and grins ear to ea- well okay not quite ear to ear, her ears are on the top of her head after all. ]

You're a competitive type, huh? [ She interlocks her fingers and stretches them forward, popping them, and rolls her neck. Golshi's getting hyped up. ] Alright! I've been feeling worked up all night, so I'll take you on!

[ she has never drank a day in her life. This will not end well. ]

[shadowfrost]

[ Tall. Interesting ears. Huh... ]

That's a bold claim, you know.

[ Her mouth ticks upward into a smirk, and she pours a glass of wine for Gold Ship. Common courtesy, as it's a party. ]

Whatever happens to you, I'm not taking responsibility.

[goldship]

It's not bold when you already know you'll win.

[ Gold Ship's eyes dart down to the poured glass, which she takes with a polite nod of thanks. She waits patiently for Fatima to ready herself up before trying to drink, but Goddesses she can already smell the alcohol???

It makes her ears twitch. That's probably a tell. ]

Heck I'm the one who should be worried about responsibilities! How much have you already put away?

[shadowfrost]

[ Fatima's about to knock back her drink when she asks the question. The witch pauses, brows furrowed, and thinks on it. That's a good question, actually. One she doesn't quite know the answer to. ]

I guess...however many bottles it took to put those guys on the floor.

[ "Those guys" meaning her previous opponents. ]