[closed] old you in the garbage, new you in display case

[heirring]

WHO: Wysteria and Alexandrie
WHAT: Discussing makeovers for the greater good.
WHEN: Early Cloudreach
WHERE: The del la Fontaine apartments in Hightown.
NOTES: n/a, will add if necessary

Exactly where the rumors had come from or exactly how they'd whispered their way onto Alexandrie's stack of correspondence from this friend or that is even now unclear to Wysteria. In the long run, she's not certain that the semantics of the thing really matter that much when the subject of the rumor is standing right before them.

The Sister in question is a slim girl, both younger and sharper in the face and about the eyes than either of them is. There's a rangy quality to her, a look that speaks to a youth spent on some Rivaini street more than it evokes any glimmer of a soft Orlesian infant, but the resemblance (allegedly, and perhaps Alexandrie has seen the Comte from close enough to confirm) is there even if the temper isn't.

The girl's fidgeting somewhat between them now as Wysteria holds up a series of gowns against her. "I don't know about this color. Alexandrie, would you say the blue and silver, or the green and gold?"

Comments

[coquettish_trees]

“Blue and silver I should think,” Alexandrie replies as she re-enters the room holding a tray. She could have had Marie or Byron bring the tea, but she imagined there would be something calming for the young sister in seeing her hostess not shying away from tending to such tasks. Suddenly being swept up in the trappings of nobility is enough of a change, let her see that not everything needs to become different. “It reminds me of the lovely flowers we saw in the Abbey garden.” She pours the tea, the set the simplest she has, and presses the teacup gently into their charge’s hands. There we are, something warm. That's always comforting.

“Of course I may always send Marie to the market for dusty rose and cream fabrics, if you should wish to remain in the Chantry’s colors if not in the robes themselves. But is it not nice to play about sometimes?”