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RESPITE FALLS WATERFALL - LATE MORNING
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Gareth is in the process of stripping down to his smallclothes, having exhausted his other options for searching for both Sammi and Xochi over the past couple of weeks. As something of a last-ditch attempt before he enlists Fiora and Brunilda's help, he's decided to give another, more thorough inspection of Sammi's preferred 'house' that is the waterfall pond. He stands up, sets his clothes aside and stretches a little, his gaze locked on the deeper parts of the pool. Then, once he's loosened up, he immediately dives in and strikes out for the deepest parts of the pond.
Gareth swims about as he goes deeper, searching every little crevice he can find, just in case it happens to lead to another hidden section of the pool or similar, just somewhere, anywhere that Sammi might have forgotten to mention in the past.
Gareth swims deeper still, the decades spent on the sea giving him the strength and lung capacity necessary to spend a decent length of time below the water's surface. Though, even with all that time, he still manages to overestimate his abilities in his continued search for Sammi...
Gareth doesn't notice anything wrong in his single-minded focus, right up until his body tries to draw a breath involuntarily. He chokes for a moment as he regains control over his diaphragm, but it's enough to shift his attention immediately to getting to the surface, so far above. He kicks off of the stones lining the bottom of the pond and swims up... but try as he might, his vision slowly darkens, until all he sees is black.
Narrator: Everything gets very hazy and weird before briefly a thing, emaciated figure can be seen in the fading water, an almost skeletal hand reaching out and pushing him down..down..down....
Gareth finds himself crashing down into the front porch of a rather quaint little cottage. There's a nice herb garden out the front, a vegetable patch beside it, and nearby, he can hear the gentle crashing of the waves. The painted red door in front of him is ajar, and sounds of movement can be heard inside, as well as the warm homely smells of a meal being prepared. Just the way Gareth likes it.
Gareth collapses on the porch, coughing a bit as he draws a breath of air and tries to get back to his feet. He wobbles a bit and leans against the wall of the cottage, then carefully knocks on the door to announce his presence.
Narrator: From inside, there was a calling of "Come in!" and inside, Sammi was there, pulling a fish pot pie out of a hearth oven. She was dressed in a classic little homely attire, and her 'hair' was even braided up loosly. She puts the pot pie down on the table, and starts serving out portions of it. Two larger ones, and two smaller ones "Well, come on then. Sit down"
Gareth tilts his head curiously upon seeing Sammi. "Uh... Sammi? Wait, where...?" He pauses, then looks over his shoulder at the surroundings of the cottage, then moves into the house and raises an eyebrow at Sammi as he takes a seat, "What... how...?"
Sammi: "Well, you get some fish, mix it up with veggies, a few potatoes, and then put pastry on top, and put it all in the oven for a few hours" She sits down herself, takes her fork, and starts to eat "The real tricky bit is making sure it cooks all the way through" She picks a bit of fish with her fork, and eats it "Personally, I think it worked out quite nicely"
Gareth shakes his head a bit, but nonetheless picks up a fork and starts to eat. "Well... it's good, fer sure, but... I mean... were ye here this whole time, Sammi? Wherever here is, anyway? I've been lookin' fer ye fer the past..." He trails off for a moment between bites, thinking, "...three weeks, I think. Maybe even longer."
Sammi: There was a brief flicker in the cottage, before Sammi firmed her expression a little, and everything stabilized, and she sighs "..Yes. There was..well, a spell. I didn't quite understand what I was doing. I was trying to help Xochi, bring her dreams back to life, but.." She tries to take another bite, but for Sammi at least, she couldn't get to taste it anymore. She'd never actually had pot pie, so didn't know what it tasted like now she had to actually think about that sort of thing. So long as Gareth knows the taste of it, it should work for him though "Instead.." How to explain "Well, right now, you're here, and you're sleeping.." She looks into a corner of the room, and nods "Well, technically you're currently drowning, but the theory is the same. Point is, you're still Out There, but also here. Linked, right? What...well, what I did, was break that link. The dreaming Self, becomes their own self, and gets to walk about outside. Catch is, you have to keep the balance. So the Waking self has to be here. Xochi is ..somewhere. Stuck. I don't know how she is. She wasn't in a great headspace when she did the ritual, so it might be as cosy as where I am"
Gareth follows Sammi's gaze towards the corner, only to slowly nod as he looks back at her. "Aye... I was divin' in yer pool at the waterfall, tryin' to find if ye happened to be there, or... stuck in some sort o' cave or somethin' below the water. I guess I spent too long down there, but I should be washin' up on the riverbank." He seems a little nonchalant about hearing he's drowning, but... the focus he puts on Sammi even as he eats shows what he cares about more, "So... somethin' happened durin' the ritual... And now yer just... kind o' stuck in this cottage?"
Sammi: Was that a mask..no, nothing in the corner. "Well, when I did it, same idea. Dreaming and Waking Self are distinct, but with me its a catch" She sighs softly "With me, it was a spell done years ago, and so, there's a Me out there walking around, and well, she's the waking self. She's just been stuck down here for ..well, with how time works weirdly, I don't even know. Decades? Centuries? It might have felt even longer, or shorter. The two halves of a person are never meant to be split up. I think there's still time for Xochi, I'm not sure about me and Maxime. She's the..uh" Sammi makes airquote ""Real" me. Though that's not to say I'm not real. I certainly feel real but that's her own self image, and I can't disagree with it" She sighs "So, I'm here, in my own little happy cottage, in my own little fantasy. It's not too bad" She looks askance "It's easy to pretend. You should find Maxime. You'll like her, I'm sure"
Gareth listens to Sammi as he continues to eat, a small frown on his face as she leads into the details about Maxime and herself. "When ye say "there's still time", what happens if ye run out o' time? Ye say I should find Maxime, yer... other half, I guess, but ye can't expect me to just leave ye here, Sammi."
Sammi: "Then, I don't know. They'll be two different people at that point, instead of just..two sides of the same person" She shrugs gently "I don't know what to tell you Gareth. I know you want me back, but I can't ask Maxime to go back. She was treated terribly, and she suffered a lot. Her dreams aren't going to be a lovely little cottage" Sammi goes to the window, and pulls back the curtain, to show that outside was a pitted landscape, an awful shore, full of crawling horrors, buzzing abominations, one of which was coming crashing through the win- Sammi closes the curtains again "She set herself up going into other people's dreams, and dealing with all those horrors within. I'm not saying there's not a solution, just that I can't imagine one right here"
Gareth stands up and goes to try and shield Sammi from the incoming... thing, before it impacts, only to come to a halt when nothing happens after Sammi shuts the curtains again. He hesitates a bit as he turns back towards her to keep talking. "I'm... honestly just glad I found ye, even if I did so by bein' an idiot. I just..." He trails off, lowering his face a bit as he closes his eyes, his brow furrowing a little in frustration as he sets his hands on his hips, "So much I want to talk about, but I don't know how to order it all without makin' it all confusin' fer both o' us."
Sammi: "Well, sit down, and keep having the meal then" She returns back to the rather nice bowls of ice-cream they had been enjoying "You should be fine until you wake up on the shores, right?" Her eyes flick to that masked fa-...empty corner in the room "Right, yes. You won't drown at least. Which is good. Dying in another's person's dream would" She stops, since that might give Gareth ideas "More ice-cream?"
Gareth looks back at the table, completely missing Sammi's glance towards the corner again, then nods as he goes to take a seat. "Some more ice cream would be nice, sure. At least I washed up on the bank, if yer sure I'm fine out there." He sighs again as he settles in once more, and collects his thoughts, "So, I guess... first things first. Yer alright, aye? Ye didn't get hurt or anythin' when the ritual backfired or whatever happened?"
Sammi: "I'm fine, for how things are. From a certain point of view, the ritual repaired an injustice that was done to a young girl ..well, me, sorta, years, and years ago. I've got a lot of baking to do, and" Nope, not gonna focus on anything else while Gareth is here "It's fine. Really. I can wait here until you find your solution"
Gareth nods as a little tension in his expression fades, at least content to know that Sammi is indeed okay for all the worry he's been harboring for the last few weeks. He eats a spoonful of ice cream before he continues. "Well, I'll tell ye that I'm goin' to try me hardest to figure somethin' out, but... I'm glad yer okay, dear..." He spends the next few seconds just slowly eating his ice cream while taking in Sammi's appearance, "Maxime... yer other half. Could ye give me a description? I'll do what I can to help her out."
Sammi: "Oh, there's a portrait on the wall, if you didn't see" She nods to the picture there "I don't think she'll have left Respite...try to be understanding. She's been through quite a bit"
Gareth directs his attention to the picture indicated on the wall and spends several seconds studying Maxime's features, before he nods. "I'll keep me eyes open, then, once I get back. If I manage to find her, I'll do me best to help her." He sighs a bit as he leans his arms slightly against the table, a weird sort of exhaustion starting to creep into him... which probably means he's starting to awaken again. He does his best to fight it off for now, though, "As fer Xochi... ye said ye don't know where she might be? Though... I guess if this is all... dream stuff, then I guess she could be just about anywhere, aye?"
Sammi: "She's reachable, in her own way. I can't because Maxime is the dreamwalker, and I'm Not here, so I can't do it. I can only make my own little world" She smiles sadly "I'll be here, for as long as you need" She Nods as he explains he's 'waking up' "You should have a better job of remembering this stuff than a normal dream, but still, some of the details might be fuzzy. Try to hold onto the important stuff, okay?"
Gareth nods again. "I'll have to get back to the Minnow and write this down as soon as I can. Ye can be sure I'm goin' to do my damn best to get ye back to the real world, Sammi, without harmin' Maxime or forcin' her to come back." His eyelids flutter a bit and he takes a moment to rub his eyes, but he forces himself to stay focused for at least the next minute or so, "And... this place. This is the sort o' place ye want... when we get ye back to the wakin' world?"
Sammi shrugs and looks out to a back room, where there was some laught..nope, not addressing that "I..I don't know. Dreams can always skate over the practical realities of life. They aren't real. Well, I could always bring a little bit of it into the waking world because I wasn't ever fully real myself.." She sighs "I don't know. I'm existing here, content, because that's the fantasy" She smiles a little, and strokes Gareth's
Sammi cheek "Whatever we decide, when we can talk again properly. I think that it'll work out" She reaches over to give him a ki-
Sammi:
Narrator: A hand grabs Nesseth, pulling him up, and he briefly sees a masked face, plain, white, and with a divided mouth, and nose, filling his vision.
Sammi:
Gareth gets cast down upon the waterside, coughing up water, as a plain white mask floats in the river nearby, slowly drifting away....
Gareth is more than a little shocked by the mask, but he attempts to take a swipe at it as it pulls him out of the water he's been floating in. His swing goes wide, and he lands roughly as he starts to cough up the water filling his lungs. He takes a ragged half-breath, then goes to grab the mask, whatever it might be... "Damn it all...!"
Sammi: It's a very simple white mask, almost featureless,with only the vaguest indication of a mouth and nose, though not indicative of any creature he's ever known or seen. Something that Should Not Be.
Gareth flips the mask this way and that as he examines the vague features, then shakes his head and goes to grab his clothes. He takes several seconds to get dressed, then stuffs the mask into one of his overcoat's pockets. Once done, he gets himself in order and starts to run back to town, mentally repeating all of the details he'd learned from Sammi, not wanting to forget a single thing if he...
Gareth ...can help it and get it all written down somewhere.
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RESPITE MARKETPLACE - AFTERNOON
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Narrator: The heaviest crowding has started in the market for the day, with most vendors in full swing. The dull roar of chattering folks, the smell of cooking food from all over, the jostle of bodies. Some folks even just go to the market to be among so many folks. A reptilian type, taller than the rest and sporting one of Rhask's sweaters, seems plenty excited as she chatters to a vendor of fine meats, who seems to have just set out a full compliment of fresh kebabs to grill up.
Maecy continues her stroll through the Marketplace, stomach growling a little, but she's a little more inclined to spend some money on food now that she's possibly lined up some income with Rhask. She walks towards the smell of cooking meat, and comes up alongside Piper, hopping slightly to peek at the food. Being a stoat sometimes means having to get folks to notice you instead of waiting to be noticed, but she's not about to cut in just yet.
Piper glances at the stoat as she walks by, but no more than she looks at any others while enjoying her lunch on a bench a few feet away from the meats vendor. The tall reptile next to the stall, grins down at Maecy, though, chuckling before she says. "Smells good, hnh? Gui just sold out, it'll be a few minutes for the next batch. Least you're second in line." The croc-ish lizard looks back to the grilling food, her heavy tail swaying in anticipation.
Maecy nods eagerly, "It smells amazing! I'm treating myself!" She glances up at the figure... and up..., "Whoa! Oh! That's Rhask's work! Gosh it really is well made. And I'm guessing that makes you Piper!"
Piper looks back toward the stall when she thinks she hears Rhask's name, looking between the stoat and the lizard she's talking with when her own name comes up. She stands from the bench, the outdoor furniture creaking relief, before she starts making her way back to the conspirators. Meanwhile, the tall reptilian grins, tugging lightly at the sweater. "Ah, yes! Rhask's work is great, really helps fend off what little cold this place sees. But-" A shadow crosses over Maecy as Piper arrives behind her, still holding two uneaten kabobs just as the alligator lady finishes speaking. "No, my name is Farah?"
Maecy frowns at the mistake, feeling a bit awkward as she scratches her head, "Oh, uh, sorry! I'm sorta a friend of Rhask's and uh... Sorry! Sorry!" She starts to turn away, but turns back to smile, "I do like the sweater, though! Nice meeting you, Farah!" She sighs, starting to walk away from the kebob table.
Piper looks to Farah, then back to Maecy, setting her heavy tail down on the stones ahead of the stoat. "Looking for Piper, little one?"
Maecy skids to a halt, looking up again. "Err... yes? Sorta! At least wishing to meet well, you I presume? I'm Maecy Frecklemeyer, of Sarn."
Piper lets out a slight grunt, smiling slightly. "Friend of Rhask, then?" Farah's already become enamored waiting for her food, ignoring the two, though the confusion is understandable. Unlike the other, though, Piper's sporting somewhat more form-fitting clothing that seems to fold in just the right ways to keep from tearing when the bulky croc stretches. Nothing quite in Rhask's style, but certainly stretchy in the ways she'd described to Maecy.
Maecy nods, then sorta shrugs, "Yes! Well, business partners? Well, um, in truth we only just met. But we got along pretty well, I think! I'm a designer, and I'm selling her a few designs, hopefully doing a collaboration while I work on a bigger project. She spoke pretty highly of you, and the paint on her scales was beautiful."
Piper blushes a bit, though her dark scales hide it well. "Highly... Told you about them? Enjoy painting, Rhask has beautiful patterns." She thinks for a moment, looking at Maecy. "Can't really paint fur..." She gestures toward the bench for them to sit aside from the crowds to talk. "Rhask is good, lot of kindness in her."
Maecy chuckles, walking towards the bench with Piper and pulling herself up. "I sadly assumed the same about the paint, it wouldn't mix well with fur. Shame... I can imagine a lot of beautiful outfits to accentuate it." She sighs, but smiles up at Piper. "She seems a wonderful person. Much nicer to work with than a few Sarn clothiers I could name. Though maybe I'm speaking too soon!" She laughs.
Piper chuckles her three notes, sitting down on the bench and causing it to shift slightly. "Oh? Father spoke about Sarn tailors. Visited on a merchant ship. Didn't care for 'swamp village'. Stuffy shirts. Don't know swamp from ocean." She pauses, humming. "Glaushire impressed, though. Tall buildings, very sturdy for spans. Stuffy shirts there, too."
Maecy hums, "Well, it's sorta just the way it is there. A lot of those stuffy shirts come into money and become designers on a name..." She's not bitter, just telling it like it is. She reaches up to pat the notebook in per pocket, "I didn't have a family name or forture. I had to get everything through hard work." She lowers her hand again, "Heh... there's inspiration everywhere, from Glaushire's manors to even the darkest swamp. That's what I believe."
Piper consumes one of her last kebobs as Maecy speaks, nodding along. "Talent, confidence. More important than money. Better people will respect, too. Keep up making friends like Rhask, will get far. Could gamble, make partner with stuffy shirts. Could get big. Could be rich. Could lose all. Slow rise, stable foundation, better span."
Maecy nods, smiling slyly, "It's a bit of the reason I'm here. Don't know how, but word of my work reached the local Weaver, Lthl... and that's an opportunity that no designer could turn down. I just have to put in the work to earn it."
Piper blinks, halfway to eating the last kebob. "A weaver? Ah... Father would be jealous! Never approached, years of tailoring. Must have incredible potential, miss."
Maecy blushes, but manages to laugh a little. "Enough to be noticed, at least. But I've still got to prove it's enough to be worth training and offering patronage to." She glances up at the Piper, "So did you make this outfit yourself, or is it one of your fathers?"
Piper looks down at her clothes, offering Maecy the untouched kebab. "Father's. Am not tailor." She wiggles her thick fingers, grinning. "Couldn't get thread through needle... Or grip needle."
Maecy blinks, then bows her head and takes the kebab, eating the first a bit greedily, "Ahh. Wasn't sure. Rhask didn't fully explain, just said you did the paint, and mentioned you shared some family designs with her. You're a painter then? Or make-up artist? Are those mutually exclusive?"
Piper chuckles, shaking her head. "Neither, professionally. Just see patterns want highlights. Good with colors, maybe. Went to Rhask to get clothes fixed, let her keep ruined ones to study. Croc techniques for croc bodies, croc life." She pats her chest, sitting up proud. "Am bodyguard. Or was. Unofficial detective now."
Maecy giggles, "Unofficial, hm? What're you detecting?"
Piper hrmphs. "Brother murdered here. Small croc. Well, compared." She grunts. "Months in backwater town, no lead."
Maecy's laughter ends, "O-oh... oh, I'm sorry... I didn't know."
Piper shrugs. "Would suspect if you did." She pauses, giving Maecy a look. "Not your problem. Don't worry." She gives a smile after a few moments, shrugging. "Where staying? With Lthl?"
Maecy shakes her head, "The Thirsty Minnow. I'm waiting on some tools, and then I'll be going into full work-mode to make an outfit for her. I've got the design finished, but I keep adjusting it while I wait."
Piper chuckles, shaking her head. "At the Minnow, too. Larger than seems. Tools for..." She lowers her voice on realizing, "You already have spider silk? Weaver must trust a lot! How..." She glances around, "many folk you've told? Very expensive. Very sought after."
Maecy tilts her head, "Err... Only a few, Strix who's making the tools to cut it, Rhask, and yourself I guess. I think that's all?"
Piper nods. "Smart. Town isn't safe all the time. If didn't already witness, guard numbers attest." She sighs lightly. "James coming makes sense. Had knack. Walked headfirst to trouble before it sprouted."
Maecy hmms, eating the last of her kabob skewer. "My sister lives here too. I'm guessing she mentioned me to Lthl? At the very least, she's the one who told me to come and meet her. But since she came she's been blown up and been in a war and who knows what else she won't tell me. I prefer Glaushire... but it's not all bad, I guess."
Piper chuckles her three notes, relaxing on the bench. "Not bad, yeah. Could stay permanently, maybe."
Maecy sits, lowering the skewer to rest on her lap and watch the folks walking through the market. "...permanently, eh? Yeah... maybe."
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RESPITE STREETS NEAR THE SOUTH GATE - AFTERNOON
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Scilla walks past the gateguard, giving them only a sneer as a response when asked about her being caked in mud (again). Cursed farm equipment that refuse to follow proper adjustments as mechanical things should do, and instead end up being impromptu genet-launching devices. She's dressed in her usual overalls, although most of it is covered by the mud.
Fleuret wanders down the way, heading towards the South gate as she gets used to the new city, working out how everything is connected. Maybe she'll find a nice business hidden away in a corner, or something unexpected to see.
Scilla looks up from her grumbling, enough to realize to dodge the taller being in front of her - something she is well used to yet never quite non-annoyed by. "Oi! I'm walking here!"
Fleuret starts, hopping back a couple steps at the sudden voice. "Oh dear! I am sorry, I was lost in thought." She looks over the small genet, now a bit curious. "Are you alright?"
Scilla pfft's dismissively: "Pfyeah, I'm fine. Not the first time I've dealt with explodin' generators, probably not the last either. Steam tech is fascinating, but ye gods is it fickly." She blinks, looking up at Fleuret again: "Oh, about the non-collision? Yeah, fine."
Fleuret giggles softly. "Was thinking more of the copious coating of mud. You do appear to have had a day of it. And I can indeed relate to the unpredictable nature of technology."
Scilla shrugs: "Mud is a side effect of progress. I did get that generator to work with me in the end, that's what matters. Mud can always be washed away."
Fleuret nods as she steps a bit out of the main line of traffic. "That it can. And who doesn't like a good bath, after all?"
Scilla smirks: "You got that right. So what's your experience with tech? If you don't mind me saying, you don't really look the type to dabble with the stuff."
Fleuret chuckles. "Well, magictech, which can be doubly volatile, to be accurate. I've had an unfortunate run-in with a generator in the past myself. That's how I got this thing." She reaches up and taps on the tip of the "horn" embedded in her forehead.
Scilla tilts her head as she looks up, a mix of confusion and awe: "Well huh. That's a thing, then. And that just didn't outright kill you on impact? Impressive."
Fleuret nods. "Indeed. One in a million shot, as I understand it. And I'm sure you can imagine, removing it wouldn't be the best idea." Fleuret inwardly marvels at how she finds herself dancing around the reality of the situation yet again.
Scilla tilts her head, still looking at the crystal horn thingie: "I uh yeah, it's probably well and in there, presuming this didn't happen like yesterday. Since you're up and walkin', probably didn't."
Fleuret sighs softly. "It has been.. rather a while, I shall say. It truly has become a part of me over these years."
Scilla tilts her head the other way for a change: "That's... only more confusing. What IS that thing, then?"
Fleuret looks about for eaves-droppers, seemingly hesitant to respond. "It's.. a blessing, a curse, these days I can hardly tell the difference." The normally airy stance Fleuret holds noticeably crumples a bit.
Scilla looks only more confused: "Eh? That doesn't really make any sense. What's it do to you that it got you like that?"
Fleuret looks about again. "Might we sit down somewhere more out of the way, if I am to discuss this? It's not middle-of-the-street talk, I must admit."
Scilla blinks, then nodnods, scattering some of the mud at her feet: "Oh! Yeah, we can do that. Guess I prodded into something sensitive. Sorry, curious, should we go to the Minnow then?"
Fleuret lightens up a bit at this. "The Thirty Minnow, you say? I've been there, seems a nice place. That'd work for me."
Scilla grins toothily: "Yuh, that's the place! We can go there and talk. Oh and I'm Scilla, by the way, that's important." She starts leading the way towards the Minnow, tail swishing happily.
Fleuret nods. "And I am Fleuret." She follows along behind the amiable genet, thinking maybe this will be someone she can open up to here.
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THE THIRSTY MINNOW - SOME MOMENTS LATER
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Scilla sits down at a table, a big drink in front of the relatively small genet. She gives Fleuret a warm smile after giving the Barkeep an apologetic one.
Fleuret settles in with Scilla, having ordered herself something tall, thin, and sweet.
Scilla leans forward on her hands, giving Fleuret a curious look: "So what's your thing then?"
Fleuret reaches up and lightly touches the horn tip again, in a way reminding herself of its reality. "Well, you're familiar with steam generators, I gather? This was part of the core of an experimental thaumic reactor."
Scilla blinks a couple of times: "Those are real? I only heard theories."
Fleuret shakes her head a bit. "As far as I know, they're still not real. This one exploded catastrophically. It was meant to absorb ambient magic, and convert it to power, but.. it did not succeed."
Scilla blinks a couple of times more: "Exploded. Well, that is definitely less than successful, even by my standards."
Fleuret nods. "To this day I'm not sure what was really going on there, but by some fluke of chance, this shard caught me right in the forehead, and it surely would have killed me if the lingering enchantment hadn't ravelled just the right way. So now I'm... how would I even describe it.."
Scilla looks at Fleuret and considers: "...weird, but alive so in a good way of weird?"
Fleuret mms, and looks into her drink. "Tell me, how old do you think I am?"
Scilla blinks, then tilts her head as she muses on this: "Dunno, like twenty-something?"
Fleuret tilts her head slightly and looks back up. "I'm sixty-five. The accident was almost fifty years ago. But thanks to the magic in this shard, it seems I will always have the body of sixteen."
Scilla blinks several times more, then feels like rubbing her eyes for blinking so much in a short time. "Eh what? Well, you've definitely held yourself up well!"
Fleuret allows herself a soft laugh. "Fair. Unfortunately as far as I know there's no way to remove this thing safely. There's a very good reason enchanting life force is something you don't want to mess with."
Scilla pauses, then nods: "Yyyyyeah, sounds like a thing you, uh... get to live with. Weird, but kinda cool? Though I guess that's gonna get tangled inconveniently sometimes."
Fleuret: /me stops a moment, then legitimately giggles. "Now that's a memory. When I was first recovering, getting used to this thing, I used to bump into door frames all the time."
Scilla sticks her tongue out: "Say whatever you want about my height, but that's definitely not a problem I usually face!"
Fleuret hees. "I always imagined smaller race had some advantages in that regard. But yes, that's.. my story, I suppose. I've come to Repite Falls to... decide what to do with my life, now that it's clear to me that my fate is not the same as my friends'."
Scilla hums: "I suppose I don't really want to know about your friends, given uh, your story." She grins and takes a gulp of her sizable beer: "Meanwhile, I'm just gonna get drunk."
Fleuret lifts and sips at her drink. "Getting drunk is probably not the worst decision I'll ever make."
Scilla giggles: "Cheers! Or something, whatever it is that they say around these parts."
Narrator: The two continue talking and getting more than a bit tipsy til late, though without sharing more secrets. Probably.