#ic.

Getting used to living somewhere she wasn't used to was going to take some time, but at the very least, Kanade was slowly adjusting herself to being here. Anything was an improvement over what was going on before, and she really figured she shouldn't be anything less than grateful someone let her live in their space at all.

Her sleep was still erratic. That wasn't exactly a big change from how she lived before, but when broken up unwillingly by memories she'd rather not revisit and nightmares, it was a little more uncomfortable to put up with. She managed regardless, and maybe more when she finally felt like she could properly ask to use Mafuyu's equipment and start trying to compose again.

Some of her time initially had been spent looking at some of the commentary while she was gone. When someone uploaded as often as "K" did, of course suddenly not doing anything for a month or more was going to make people wonder. "Where did they go?" "Are they okay? I hope they didn't give up on making music!" were just some of many. Maybe there was a strange kind of comfort it knowing that her absence was noticeable, at least, even if she didn't really interact with these comments or directly speak.

She didn't expect to make much progress in a day. She navigated what she had available to her now that she no longer had access to her own more familiar setup, and refreshed herself on what programs she now had access to. Synthesizers were easier to get accustomed to. It was like sitting at a piano or any other synthesizer to Kanade. She could adjust like she was studying the back of her hand, but she's been like that since she was a little girl.

Meiko enjoyed her life with Troupe Falsiam, but sometimes she wondered how in the seven hells she ended up there.

She knew how, of course. Mistress Nashmeira had spotted her in a crowd and that was it. Her fate had been sealed! There was absolutely nothing anyone could do or say to persuade that woman once her mind had been made up, and two years later, here she was: a frequent performer, arse jingling wherever she walked, waxed in areas she had never thought to shave (if at all), and... picking up sellsword work to ensure the Troupe could eat.

What a fuckin' life I live.

She glanced at the note she had pulled from a notice bard inside the Drowning Wench, reading it over again. Presuming it wasn't a lure for slavers, the gil sounded a right amount for clearing out whatever bastards were occupying the Satasha Seagrot. She supposed she would just have to risk her neck and see.

She made her way towards the Aetheryte Plaza, squinting as the bloody overgrown shimmering eyesore reflected the sun's light in her eyes upon arrival. She swore under her breath and shielded her eyes with her hand as she looked around, trying to find --

Ah. That woman appeared to be the one at the meeting point. Probably. The other Lalafell around were either busily running to and fro or obviously lazing about.

Ah, Valentine’s Day — the day of love. It’s in the air, all around, Calliope can’t escape it. She doesn’t mind the holiday, but every year she keeps to herself. Maybe she celebrates with some friends, but more times than not, she spends Valentine’s Day alone.

Of course, her family likes to tease her about it. She doesn’t mind, not really. It’s all in good fun!

Well, this year, her twin brother had the grand idea of surprising her! With what? She wasn’t sure. A bit concerned, yes. He hadn’t given her a single hint as to what her “surprise” would be, until he had actually gotten her there! Surprise surprise! He’d made her a kissing booth. She wanted to smack the man right then and there, but when she thought about it…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

So now, here she sits, waiting for her next potential partner. Or victim. However you’d like to see it.

“Step right up, one and all,” Calliope mutters to herself, drumming her fingers slowly on the table, “test your luck on winnin’ this gal’s love.”

Like anyone would want to kiss her, anyway.