#thefinitewitch

“Do you like the lake, miss?” Oriko couldn’t say that she frequented those places, if at all - Father was always busy, anyways. But there’s a calm atmosphere, here, when she watches the fishes swim by. The one besides her looks so regal, so close yet so far away, somehow. Silence falls between them as the young girl’s lips close.

It was some time since they had seen the one who had given them their name, but to see Virgilia again perked them up. They brushed against her, before getting their notepad out.

 “These humans...especially the young ones! It seems they lack strength. I know several children who can carry more then one ...no three boxes full of steel with ease!” it was to help with repairs, and moving of one item to the next. Boxes full of heavy machinery he knows not, but he holds with ease despite his slim build. Three heavy boxes stacked on one another....

Opera wasn’t his favorite genre, but he could feel any kind of music in his soul, if he was to be frank. If asked, of course he was a rocker. Not currently, naturally, but for the moment he was sitting in the theatre, drawn in by the familiar sound of an unfamiliar act. An unfamiliar opera. And so he had sat, letting himself be enveloped by the sound.

It elicited...Something in him. Evoking some long-buried emotion in him that hadn’t been quite drawn out by anyone he had spoken to. By the end, he and many others had been wiping away a few stray tears before standing and clapping.

It was astounding, truly.

A woman next to him seemed similarly moved, and he laughed with a sniffle. “Forgive me, Frau, but I have nothing to wipe my tears or yours.”

He was certain he’d seen someone flying. Billowing fabric descending just beyond the edge of the bamboo line. Jiang Cheng jogged forward, breaking out of the grove and coming to a halt. Whoever it was must have touched down, as he no longer saw any sign of a flying figure.

A brief glimpse of the same color fabric and Jiang Cheng was moving again. He didn’t recognize the color to belong to any of the major sects, but it was possible she was from a small family. Or even rogue.

With a quick hand, he reached for her sleeve, pulling on the fabric just slightly to get her attention. He wanted to know if she knew anything about this city, or why they were here. But now that he was closer, he was starting to doubt she was a Cultivator at all. Her dress was foreign. He let go quickly.

“Say Miss, you’re okay with My Melo right?” Most humans freaked out when they saw My Melody walking and talking, as they assumed she was some kind of stuffed animal, but here...it seemed to be just fine. And that was great! She wouldn’t have to hide, and she could go out and just be with everyone else! No more missing out on the fun stuff.

Unlike the majority of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, this particular Warrior of Light wasn't much of a scholar. Book learning and it's ilk had never came very naturally, much more versed and comfortable in practical learning methods– but when such a ready source of information presented itself in a situation scant on many details, what fool wouldn't attempt to take advantage?

Still, The Great Library was far from Faris' comfort zone... she barely had an idea of where to start, honestly. Thus, she'd set herself to simply grabbing as many books as she could carry and absorbing as much as possible. It was in this frame of mind she found herself atop a step ladder, a pile of books teetering ominously atop the last step as she reached for what she decided would be the last–

“Oh, shite– sorry!”

The miqo'te looked down from her perch, the book she'd just dropped landing before another woman with a decisive thud! Forgetting all else, the mage quickly skidded down the steps and landed before the other– ears flat and looking thoroughly chastised before any words could pass their lips as she bent and picked up the wayward tome.