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rosavelle2025-10-30 12:15 pm
royaldecreemods) wrote in rosavelle2025-10-30 12:15 pm
Entry tags:
Welcome to Rosavelle!
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;
... 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:
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.
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.
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.
... suddenly, they look sheepish.
They raise their glass, cheeks pink but eyes bright.
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.
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.
"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.
Banquet, B
[She finally holds out a three-fingered hand.]
Vetra.
[It feels uncomfortably inadequate without a rank or title, but it is what it is, and she'll act like it's fine.]
[Oh - okay, the other is relaxing, so she can too. Her shoulders slouching ever so slightly, while the rest of her sort of stands taller.]
Yeah... Does it show that much?
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But now here she is shaking hands with a a three fingered scaled person who she has to look up at. It's the latter that's the weirdest part, honestly, Gold Ship's not used to not being the tallest person in a room. ]
A little bit, but I wouldn't sweat it. Folks like us are in the majority I'm guessing.
[ She shrugs in that way only the most carefree of slackers can manage. ]
Just means we'll all be adjustin' at the same pace. Kinda comforting in a weird way, dontcha think Vetty?
[ Sorry, Vetra. You're going to end up with nicknames. ]
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That's good, at least. Hate to stand out more than I already do.
[It's getting painfully obvious she might very well be the only nonhuman here (in appearance, anyway).]
As long as nobody throws us out for some kind of ... weird social incident. [Her mandible flares, then clicks a few times against her jaw.] Vetty?
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Y-yeah...! And you can call me Golshi if ya like, most people do.
[ She chuckles while hoping if she DID offend Vetra then this will smooth things over. ]
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Let's just stick with Vetra... All right? Even my sister calls me that.
[At least she doesn't sound offended. Just confused. She's never really had a nickname and it probably shows. But now she doesn't want to offend, so she adds:]
... She called me "Vee" for a while. When she was a baby.
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Heh, a big sister huh? Knew you had a good vibe.
[ She starts to bounce on the balls of her feet. No real reason for it, just full of energy over here.]
You got yourself a decent sized family?
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Does it show that much? [There's amusement in the echoes under her words.]
[She watches the bouncing, before looking, briefly, toward the dance floor, thinking it over...]
No. It's just us. Or it was, before I got dragged here. You?
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[ She shrugs by way of explanation, then pauses. Damn, her family? That's a topic she usually avoids. ]
Couple of older sisters, yeah, no big deal.
[ One of them won the triple crown BUT IT. IS NO. BIG. DEAL. ]
Haven't really hung out with any of em that much since starting school. Had to focus on my career, ya know?
[ A statement she punctuates with an awkward laugh while she rubs the back of her neck. ]
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I guess it'd be easy to peg for a younger sister... [There's no derision or irritation in what she says. Just a general statement.]
[Her head tilts again.]
Career? Now I have to ask what it is. [She looks again to the dance floor.] But you look like you'd rather be moving. Am I right?
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[ She bounces into a few short little jumps, then rolls her shoulder. ]
I'm a racer, and kind of an idol too. I was actually in the starting gate when I got flower isekai'd here.
[ Another jump, this one punctuated by what can only be called a whine. ]
It's torture! I was all hyped to run and now the vibe is just off for it, s'all chill and relaxed. [ A beat, then hastily. ] N-not that I'm complaining! It's a nice party!
[ She has no idea she's going to get involved in the stupidest fight ever by the end of the night, bless her heart. ]
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A racer? [She almost asks if that means like racing vehicles, but the question gets answered. Ah, a runner.] Can't say I've met many athletes before. Chalk up another first for the night.
[A quiet laugh, before she holds a hand out.] Torture, huh? Maybe we can fix that. Want to dance?
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But super nice too, so she can play ball. There's plenty of time in the future to indulge in her usual chaos, why not enjoy the night and dance with a... lizard...? Lady? ]
Hehe. You're quite the charmer, aintcha? [ She takes the offered hand. ] Lucky too. Dancing's part of my trainin', I'm not half bad at burning down a rug.
[ That's not the saying and she knows it's not. ]
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I've heard that, sometimes. When I'm trying to be. [Three fingers close around the other's hand, carefully - some people have adverse reaction to turian talons, even if she keeps them clipped.]
[Before she heads toward the dancing, she stops, baffled.] Why... would you burn down a rug?
[Yeah her people and human idioms don't tend to get along very well.]
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Just a figure of speech, don't worry 'bout it.
[ Idioms don't translate, apparently! That's a shame, means she's missed out entirely on Gold Ship's amazing sense of humor. No biggie though, there will be other opportunities. ]
And uh... maybe don't repeat it too loudly? The Princess already thinks I'm likely to torch the place. [ She laughs a little sheepishly. ] Magic kingdoms aren't super familiar with Tinder.
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[Her expression is apologetic, as is her tone. She takes them toward the dance floor, then, not wanting to keep her new dance partner waiting.]
Why would she think that? [Genuinely confused! Likely because The Great Food Battle And Ice Incident is forthcoming.] What's ... tinder?
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POINT IS. There is no reason to suddenly feel Awkward. It's perfectly reasonable that most people wouldn't know! ]
Well it's uh. An app, that ya use on your phone, for dating. It's pretty popular where I'm from. Or when I'm from I guess?
[ SHRUG, like it's no big deal. Once they're on the dance floor proper Gold Ship turns to face Vetra and places her hand onto her shoulder. For all her absolute absurdity Gold Ship seems to actually know what she's doing here. ]
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Oh! Dating app. Got it.
[While she might not know "tinder" itself, dating apps in general? Sure. Granted, Vetra's never used one herself - no time to - but she's definitely aware of them and seen them. You'd have to be living under a rock not to.]
[She bends a little, at the waist. Just to make sure she's not too tall for this dance. Her free hand settles on Gold Ship's hip. Not the waist. That's too much, funnily enough.]
We've got those. Haven't heard of "tinder", but - dating apps? Yeah. Plenty of them.
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Now if only you'd been in earshot when I was tryin' to explain it to Their Highness. Woulda saved them a little panic.
[ Golshi's no slouch (heh) in height but damn if Vetra doesn't have her beat by uh... a foot and a half, give or take, so she appreciates the concessions the turian is making here. So much so she politely waits to see if her partner will take lead. ]
If ya ask me we've got our work cut out for us. They're like the second most nervous person I've ever met, and that's really saying something.
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[The tailors had a hell of a time trying to figure out how to dress a turian. And deal with Vetra's insistence on what was, and wasn't, acceptable for her people.]
[She will take the lead. Despite not really knowing the steps, she's got a decent sense of rhythm, light on her feet.]
Do I want to hear about the first? [It's said in good humor, too.] Me, though - I'll do whatever I have to, to get back again, I think.
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[ The memory keeps Gold Ship smiling as she lets Vetra guide her across the floor. Though she seems laid back as always she's actually putting quite a bit of concentration into her own steps, mostly fighting to keep herself a pace behind her partner. Not much different from staying to the back in a race, really, except she's not looking to overtake anyone in the end stretch. ]
But pretty small stakes. I got a feelin' you've got a lot more going on back where you're from than races and concerts, don'tcha?"
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[There's a tension in Gold Ship's grip - it's nothing dramatic, but, enough to get the sense the other woman's probably more suited to leading. Nice to note.]
Here, you take over? [Easy concession. She doesn't know any real steps, and doesn't want to stand out all of the sudden in the middle of a crowd.] Something like that. Colonizing a new galaxy and all.
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[ Which also more inclines you to always play a role rather than let on to your real feelings but look that's an entirely healthy way to live life and it completely hasn't caused trouble for Gold Ship in interpersonal relationships and her career. Not one bit.
With Vetra giving up the lead Gold Ship slips into it easily. She reposition her hands, sets into the new rhythm, and sets off. She's still holding back, mind, but now so she can guide Vetra through the steps rather than keeping herself from overtaking her dance partner. ]
A new galaxy? [ Luckily for Golshi her internal thoughts are completely thrown off. She's pretty keen on SPACE. ] Now that sounds like a heck of a story. You've seen a lot I bet.
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[Playing a role - yeah that doesn't sound familiar at all. Play the role, be who someone needs you to be in the moment. What they expect you to be - or what you have to be, in order just to get by. What kind of room does that leave for yourself? For who's behind the role?]
[Questions for another time! And probably alcohol.]
[It's not table dancing (there's a story for another time, too), so she ends up being able to follow fairly easily. And not step on anyone's feet.]
A whole hell of a lot more than we ever expected, yeah. It's... been a lot, in general. Mostly hard.
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And the Vibe here, it's... well like Vetra says, hard seems to be about right. Complex, trying, not exactly all happy go lucky fun like Golshi's own limited ideas about space exploration. Type 0.7 (if that) civilization optimism at its finest. ]
Can't even imagine, honestly. [ She tilts her head slightly as they turn into the next steps, stomping down her curiosity and tempering it. ] Was leavin' your home galaxy a choice...?
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[Still - it sort of feels wrong to say it and damper someone's enthusiasm. She inclines her head, and lets her voice fall into a better tone. Meant to be reassuring.]
We did meet a whole new species, that was pretty interesting. [The angara were a bright spot, to be sure.] But, yeah. It was. My sister and I... we wanted to start over. Start somewhere fresh. No place like a whole new galaxy.
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