RD14: Morning

[fairweather]

[A red-haired woman in her early twenties can be seen in the orb. She sits straight-backed and looks quite dignified as she smiles. In the background, one of the very fine rooms of the castle can be seen. When she talks, her voice is very cultured and the refined English accent of an upper-class Londoner.]

Tell me, loves, where can I find a dressmaker? I want something with a little more style and I’m afraid the hideous rags provided simply won’t do. These frills and extra fluff in the skirt, no, no, I want a dressmaker with a sense of style and elegance.

[She sighs. Concerned about her situation? Oh, sure, it's mildly distressing opening a book and waking up in a different dimension, but you learn to roll with the punches.]

And if you do not know where I can find a decent dressmaker, any information about this world will do. Do keep it fun, that dreadful old man was such a bore, droning on about saving the world and defeating thorns. Do I look like a gardener? No, of course not. I don't suppose I can find a decent spa around here, hm? Even natural hot springs will do.

Sophronia, if you're out there, I'm staying at the castle.

Comments

[brosif]

You're truly more concerned memorizing tailors than learning of that which threatens us all?

[The books show themselves to care less and less for the merit of heroes every day.]

[fairweather]

Yes, I am. I can hardly move in this chiffon monstrosity.

[brosif]

[Sif peers at the woman's dress. And, well. She does not speak falsely.]

I know of some tailors that prize function over...fluffing.

[fairweather]

Really? Do tell.

[brosif]

You ought first to know that they do not specialize in women's wear.

[Rather, the options here are to dress as an overly preening maiden or as a man.]

[fairweather]

Naturally. They are tailors.