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

Camila | Original | Lily

[loveschasinglost]

0: Prologue

She was not sure when the letter had arrived. Delicate pink with handwriting to match, sealed with a flower.

It did not matter. All that mattered was the pursuit. The light on the horizon, the end of the road that seemed never to come. And yet... time and time again, it found her, wherever her journey took her.

In a city whose name she did not care to remember; it found her. In the wreckage of a battlefield, taking shelter in the shadow of a broken siege engine; it found her. Across the veils of time it had chased her, in countless worlds, it had found her.

And it had not mattered. None of it had mattered.

Until... until.

It did not matter where it found her. It was one stop of many, one war among countless others. The service. The pursuit. The light-

...The letter.

Surely, it would lead the way to Her. This was important somehow, she knew it, more than she knew anything.

This would bring her where she needed to go. This would lead her to the one she must find.

“...I humbly accept your invitation.”

...And then none lived among the wreckage.

And so it goes.

1: Arrival

For a long moment, all she knows is soft lights, the sense of weightlessness.
...Warmth, the scent of flowers.

What was this strangeness? So much like her previous journeys, yet so familiar somehow, in a way that itched at the back of her mind.

...was it meant to take this long?

In the great greenhouses, to those observing... a soft white light appears amidst the new arrivals, lines tracing and growing, strange curving lines and odd runes humming softly as the summoning circle takes shape-

And immediately shatters, flickers of light scattering and fading across the room in seconds.

And it's place kneels a figure, leaning forward on one fist. She wears some unfamiliar uniform, a tattered gray thing all spattered in mud and blood. Her eye is covered by an eye patch that only barely hides the scars beneath.

And yet? Her pompadour is immaculate.

Slowly, she stands without so much as a grunt of pain, unfolding herself to her full height of a whopping 7'8.

2: Dress Up

Camila arrives to the dressing rooms slightly later than most, now clad in a plain robe. It had been a bustle of rushing her off to bathe and have her wounds treated not long after her arrival, and the fact chafed at her.
True, it was practical and sensible, and yet... And yet.

And so she entered, quickly ushered into relative privacy.

“...I want. A military dress uniform. What styles do you have?”

And so the array of jackets begins to whisk by for her consideration, one by one.

3: Banquet

As the fledgling monarch speaks, Camila's gaze snaps to her and her alone, old instincts from her hind brain kicking in instantly as she snaps stiffly and strictly into the old parade stance, hands folded carefully behind her back and feet spaced just to.

Their voice... despite the nerves the princess clearly felt, it had Camila's unwavering focus.

Ah, so this violated some common social taboo. It was one she could see the logic behind, and yet one she had doubtlessly violated countless times.

But... for the time being, she had food, shelter... It had been some time since she had attended lectures, in any case. Perhaps it would be worth her time after all.

As the speech ends, Camila salutes, stiff and crisp in her fresh new uniform. Or at the very least... something uniform-shaped. There was no insignia of rank, no mark of loyalty.

This vexed her.

Slowly but surely, she turned towards the tables, stomach vaguely grumbling. That was a problem she could resolve later.

There were more important things to follow, like the scent of roast meats and a treasury's worth of spices.

Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

Ugh. Of course. She'd said exactly the wrong thing somehow, again, and then Ranma got mad about it, and then she got mad about it, and now she's stalking off to look for a dance partner in the middle of a banquet that has already, officially, been extremely thoroughly crashed.

Coward. Fink! Twinkle-toed moron!

She'll get something out of this yet.

-- Wait. That's.

"... Camila, right?" okay maybe that came out a little hotter blood than she wanted. "From the garden?"

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

Well, that had been an awkward conversation at the end of an exceptionally awkward event overall.

...but why had it sounded so familiar? The way they were both so clearly hurt, the way they both lashed out...

Fortunately Camila had never had such a relationship in all her life.

"Ah. From the garden, yes."

Nonetheless, she snaps into the same automatic bow.

"Your wild rose, I take it? Should you wish her to... keep her distance, I shall aid you in that endeavor."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

Your wild rose, I take it?

Oh no. That's right. Camila saw her plot. She knows EXACTLY the hidden feelings she's harboring for Ranma. "Yeah, you could say that."

The offer, however, takes her off-guard. "Uh-- look. Don't. Get in a fight with Ranko. You'll lose. and... anyway... I... It's a complicated mess."

You know. Like her plot.

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

"Don't. Get in a fight with Ranko. You'll lose."

"She may test that assumption at her leisure."

Her voice turns colder, expression growing faintly stern as she focuses completely on Akane.

"I am used to complicated."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

"Look, if you're looking forward to sparring with me, Ranko's on a whole different level. I-- I was hoping to have a chance on my own for a bit, train up, give some sage advice. I didn't expect her or my sister to be here. And then I put a foot wrong and now we're fighting. Again."

She huffs. "Honestly. I'm not sure what Their Highness was expecting out of me but it cannot have been this. Maybe we're better off just sticking to our barracks and avoiding each other."

... Sadly, she will not get this wish. They're both Hyacinths.

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

Camila shifts slightly, expression stiff and unreadable as she tilts her head.

This.

It was certainly a mess, she knew that much, even as she tries sand fails to ignore the twinge of familiarity deep in her gut.

"...As you wish."

She pauses again, seeming to consider grabbing a drink to steady herself.

"For what it is worth."

People said that a lot, right?

"I have absolutely no idea why I was chosen."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

"Me neither." She sighs. "... I guess the best I can hope for is to treat this like a nice, long clinic and hope I can learn something useful to teach the Princess along the way."

She hums. "To that end-- you said you might wanna train with me. That offer's still open."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

"I believe I should like that. Perhaps we both have something to learn here."

...But. That fiancee was still nearby, wasn't she? It would suit her newfound policy of avoidance to assess her reactions, no?

...Stiffly, she bows once again, more deeply this time.

"...May I have the pleasure of a dance, while we are here?"

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

She's about to refuse out of hand, but...

The image of Kanade in the dressing room, and now Ranma's cold feet in the banquet hall, get her own blood up, and she crosses her arms. "I'll warn you, I barely know enough to dance in my own room. You'll have to teach me."

There's no way Camila will call this bluff.

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

"...As you wish."

She straightens, holding out a hand to Akane carefully.

"Fortunately, I have some experience in the appropriate dances for this sort of event, if you do not mind following my lead."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[mahjongheart]

... Well. Okay then. Sure, she's doing this out of spite. Sure there's someone she'd rather be dancing with.

But she gets a crash course in dancing and a chance to dance at all. She'll take the small wins.

She curtseys, and then takes the hand. "Then I am in your care."

Re: Wildcard: Uncomfortably Reminded

[loveschasinglost]

Camila takes her hand, carefully leading her out and away from the food and onto the dance floor.

"...May I ask your name, in any case?"

Her voice is somewhat gentler as they begin to dance, at first somewhat slowly and awkwardly as she guides Akane.

Banquet

[steel_over_blood]

Akane was right, there isn't a need for a very detailed description at all to pick out Camila in a room. Bulat takes a glance at her trajectory, weaves through the crowd, and appears across from her at the roast.

"So you're Camila. Name's Bulat. I heard you were tied for best hairstyle in the kingdom, and I heard right."

Re: Banquet

[loveschasinglost]

She regards him slowly and quietly at first, then nods.

"I see."

The corner of her mouth twitches up faintly, eyes softening ever so slightly as she continues to carve herself a portion of the meat.

"My compliments. May I ask who you rebel against?"

[steel_over_blood]

"Answering that question could get me arrested in my home country, you know."

It's a bold question, and he respects bold people. He pauses for a beat before grinning fiercely and saying something that could get him arrested in his home country.

"Anyone who uses power to take advantage of those who don't have it. Strength in battle, social position, wealth - it doesn't matter."

He's pitched his voice so it doesn't carry. Callie seems nice enough, but there's a limit to how publicly revolutionary you should present yourself at a formal banquet, Darin.

[loveschasinglost]

"Ah, an all too common fact."

She tilts her head thoughtfully as he answers, taking in his words without so much as a flicker in her expression.

"Noble goals, indeed."

A fine reason to wear the pompadour, as well. And intelligent enough to mind who listens.

She liked this one.

[steel_over_blood]

It's the methods that he really can't talk about in public.

"How 'bout you? Same part of the woods?"

She's mild-mannered on the surface for a rebel, but so is he. You don't truly know someone until you see them under pressure.

[loveschasinglost]

"When I can. In my times, I have traveled through many worlds, seen many abuses of power."

What kind of war was his to fight, she could not help but wonder. What horrors did the rulers set upon their own people day by day?

"I am seldom able to linger."

[steel_over_blood]

Bulat's eyebrows go up. He's assuming that not being able to linger means that Camila's habits are to crush the skulls of the corrupt elite and then skip town before someone can round up enough guardsmen to stand a chance at taking her down. Good for her!

"Worlds, not countries? How does this one stack up so far?"

Could he recruit her for Night Raid? He'd need to know her better before bringing her into a top secret rebel base, but if she's on the level...

[loveschasinglost]

"...For some time now, I have been bound by magic that draws me from world to world in pursuit of my target."

She explains plainly, as if it was the most mundane thing she could have said.

"...So far, I would say this world is gentle in a way that I all too seldom see. Worlds at peace rarely beg for a king."

[steel_over_blood]

Hey, maybe a... guest member? If they're lucky enough to link up. It won't compromise their secrecy if she's going to vanish off the face of the earth.

"My group's persistent, but even we couldn't go that far..."

Having targets is extremely normal.

"Well, not that we'd want to. We're a domestic squad. If you show up near our place, you should stop by and tell the boss all about what kind of government a peaceful world tends to have."

[loveschasinglost]

"If I find myself in your world, I shall do my best to aid as I can."

She wondered what sort of world he was from.

...And hoped that she had not unwittingly fought against him before, even indirectly.

"And perhaps I may direct aid to your side, should I encounter my past allies."

[steel_over_blood]

She seems like the kind of person who would.

"There's more of you who travel around like that?"

So she's not entirely a lone wolf. Good for her! Companions keep your head in the right space.

[loveschasinglost]

"As I said, I pursue my target across worlds. In this case, I refer to a wandering immortal whose path I cross on occasion. A young woman named Kagome, who makes a habit of scavenging dead worlds for profit."

A strange young woman, but a surprisingly good tactician in those wargames of her. Strategos with Professor Coleman and Gramps had always been more suited to her, though.

"Wanderers such as them can be rare, but they are always memorable."