The Right Direction ♦ Open to CS

On the sixth day of this particular month, Miss Sinclair attends to her routine in high hopes. While a pleasant morning wasn't anything new for the girl, there'd been a giddiness unbidden within her for many long nights...it was near impossible to control the impulsive, quiet smiles, or the minute skips that lined her steps. And for what it was worth, Aerith finds herself considering today an invaluable milestone - she'd be joining a guild of her own volition.

"Look at our girl, all dolled up early in the morning~" cooed a voice. The warm, motherly tones of each word was an unsurprising feature for the figure that scooted closer.

"Eloise?" she tipped her head one way, confused, "Is it alright for you to be up and about?"

A contained yawned barely evaded the route it took out the summon's lips as she stretched, most of her ordinarily novel clothing stripped down to a light green nightgown, the laces a reminiscent of a flower garden. "It's not my cup of tea to be up before the robins are, but I heard you clamoring all the way from the Otherworld~"

The minstrel fashions a doubting face, but it doesn't hold for longer than a few seconds before Miss Sinclair resumes the task of braiding her hair. Each motion is meticulous as a pair of blue irises focus on the reflection on the unadorned boudoir, gently enough so each strand is tight and clean. Behind her, Eloise bounded to and fro across her small room, observing the shelves of books and her writing desk off to one corner. Was there much curiosity to be found in this room? As impressive as the Petite Maison's structure proved to be, their lodgings were man-made. The house wasn't at all grand, but it was homely, and that mattered most for the blonde. Still, at times she pondered if there was a necessity to decorate, or at the very least replace the creaking floorboards and the seemingly centuries old furniture pieces.

"Let me help you with that hun." said Eloise, "I'll fix you up a do that'll wow a pair of eyes even from miles away~"

Aerith spared the summon a fond, if not adoring smile, fingers working to end the braid she started on with a flourish. Once satisfied, she'd beckon for the brunette lady in a voice small and gentle - befitting for the morning mood where the sun only just began to touch the horizon.

"I'll be counting on you, then."

From the mirror, the summon's smile radiates a vitality that was unbecoming of the truth that she, Eloise, had been dead for decades on ends. It's strange to think how easily she's bounced back into her pseudo-humanity as if she'd never spent a single day as a forgotten soul. The brunette skipped on two...three steps before she managed to tangle her lithe fingers into the untouched portion of Aerith's hair.

"Been a while since I've done this for someone other than myself." the summon started, deftly layering each strand as she spoke, "I've always wanted a little sister, heehee, this makes little ol' me happier than a queen bee in a full nest~"

As per her protocol, Miss Sinclair knew better than questioning the Exalted about their history, unless they themselves chose to do so. None of them were to be part of their pact should they have lived fulfilling times. Every soul here, every warrior drawn and called upon by the Oaths are existences that warrant pity no matter whom you ask. Life had not been kind to them, and neither had Death. In a sense, even these instances of brief exchange between her and summons played a vital role in her lending them even the slightest moment of relief.

"You'd make a fantastic sibling, Eloise."

A giggle - "Then it wouldn't be much of a stretch to actually consider me one?"

"Eh?"

Aerith swiveled around in her seat to face the brunette properly, finding that her tone hardly betrayed her expectant, as if teasing expression. Behind her, the mirror reflected both her buns styled into place - impressive for the time the summon spent on it. Was this a conversation Eloise desired for so much? The minstrel seems largely confused, though it didn't need much mulling on her part, if not for her self-proclaimed responsibility for her spirits' happiness.

"...If that's what you want." she said, "I'll...consider you a big sister, then."

As if the spirit couldn't get any more jovial than she originally was, what she'd been told sends Eloise restlessly twirling around the room, a palpable glee oozing from her person. "I'M A BIG SISTER AAAAAAAHHHHHH~!!!!"

'I guess the morning isn't as quiet anymore.' she thought, visibly amused by the display.


Given her pleasant morning, Miss Sinclair found it difficult to blend into the somber tones of the following afternoon. For beyond the safety of her Petite Maison was, conversely, a world dripping wet with rain. Any morsel of sunshine dimmed under the loom of nimbus clouds for as long as the lady walked, a blue parasol cradled between her fingers.

"Hnn, the fog's thick today." she whispered.

Perhaps it was her own shortcoming to come unprepared for what were to follow that morning. It surely couldn't have been Eloise's meddling, and Miss Sinclair was well aware that she didn't even have the heart to blame her otherwise. But far less trivial than the state of the weather was what to become of her search for the appropriate guild - dense as the fog looked to be, what alarmed the lady was the visible lack of any other soul but her's. Where'd everyone hurry off to? As per her travel experience, Rose Garden was not a city of few people, but a busy...very busy place.

Credible as her travelling memoirs were, Rose Garden was also not a city that would go further than its current territory.

"Huh...?" a pair of boots yield unexpectedly, "Did this road always go on like this?"

The pavement that should have cut abruptly into an open field was now entirely lined in polished cobblestone, much unlike the Rose Garden in her memories. With her curiosities piqued, Miss Sinclair bothers not to ask the important questions that any rational person would've took the time to think of; instead, she walks along this new road, something completely illogical telling her that this decision lead to an outcome much desired.

Then the lady stops, pauses and gasps.

"A town...!" she said, albeit breathless. It never occurred to her that there'd be a place like this out on the outskirts of a major city...such an pretty little neighborhood wouldn't go unseen, especially so when her eyes caught wind of the tiny pin-pricks of light off to one side, things that seemed to twinkle in-tune to the melody of an instrument she'd ought to know - its tone sweet and beckoning.

Wasting no time, Miss Sinclair sprinted towards the establishment, crossing streets and finding herself enclosed between unfamiliar walls and a condensed audience, the crowds thickening at her every turn. Even as she'd located the performer, her figure were to be stationed way into the furthest row of people, making it nigh impossible to spare even the slightest glimpse of the musician.

"Oh, well." her face tightens, however fleetingly, "Regardless, it's a lovely song."

The journey there wasn't one in vain however. If at all, the lady was made aware of where the other portion of the Rose Garden residents flew off to, taking refuge here as if enchanted. Nevertheless, here was an area that Miss Sinclair knew very little off...perhaps it'd do some good to ask around.

"Excuse me?" her voice lightly probes at the presence closest to her, "Can I ask what the name of this town is?"