05-06-2017, 03:52 PM
The waxy paper covering the lollipop seemed familiar to Arle. Not from her own world, of course, but from Primp. The lollipop definitely resembled candy, something she knew would make her sick if she actually indulged in it. Maybe this particular piece wouldn't make her ill, but eventually she would discover a flavor so vile and sweet that she couldn't stomach it. Her palette had often put her at odds with the friends she made on Primp. They had an entire ridiculous holiday dedicated entirely to bothering people at their homes and asking for candy, a holiday Arle decidedly wasn't interested in celebrating. Between being somewhat bad at dress up, not having a taste for candy and the stigma against bothering your neighbor that existed back on her own world the holiday offered little to her but discomfort The only appealing part of it was getting to spend time with her friends, but even that had its limits in terms of how much discomfort it could offset. Needles to say, she would not soon forget her experiences with candy. ...Perhaps she'd save the lollipop for later and give it to someone who might find more enjoyment out of it than her.
Taking the service tag and the lollipop, the thoughtful mage shoved her musings to the back of her mind and offered the librarian a bright smile. "Thank you~!" she replied rather radiantly, choosing not to acknowledge the librarian's testy tone. She had nowhere better to be and nothing better to do, which was unfortunate because she didn't really enjoy sitting around very much. She'd much rather be adventuring, or going to school for that matter. When your schools were as dangerously irresponsible as Arle's the two were sometimes interchangeable. When she turned to try and find herself a place to sit, however, some movement caught her attention ahd she stopped to confirm that her eyes were not deceiving her.
Oh hey--It was that cat! And ... was it--...Was that gesture supposed to be--? Was the cat trying to get her attention? Arle's body tensed with mild alarm. She didn't think a regular cat would be too interested in her studies or her problems, but maybe this wasn't a regular cat? The idea that she was being misled by a monster had occured to her pretty much immediately, but... monsters also weren't usually this subtle about their nature in her experience. What was the point of pretending to be a normal cat, exactly? She wasn't sure, so perhaps she was overthinking this. Deciding that there was nothing she could do about her suspicions, Arle allowed herself to set them aside and followed the cat.
...Only to meet something else that screwed with her head in the form of a chair that somehow seemed rather enthusiastic about being sat on. Sheesh. Arle had thought she was starting to get used to all of this culture shock whenever she hopped to a new world, but evidently that just wasn't how things worked. "...Oh, hello." Arle greeted, managing to embarass herself by speaking to a chair in public. The way it had moved conveyed a sort of awareness to her, and she didn't grasp what to make of that other than that the chair must be a living thing. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever seen, but it was certainly confusing for the poor displaced girl. "May I?" Arle went on to request, attempting to be pleasant through her bemusement. Was the chair offering itself to her? How would she even know if it tried to answer her? Did living chairs get fulfillment from being sat on? ...Should she be concerned by that last idea? Ugh. The mage started to get overwhelmed by her thoughts, so she passed them from her mind. She'd just have to expirement and find out for herself. Hopefully she didn't wind up on the floor. Turning about, Arle carefully lowered herself onto the chair as if afraid she might offend it by carelessly plopping down. She then observed its 'reaction' or lack-there-of before allowing herself to get comfortable by crossing her legs and leaning back. Huh! Note to self. Sentient chairs are friends--...probably.
And then she was met with a more familiar face. Somehow it was a relief, even knowing that this particular girl had been rather rough with her before. Any familiarity was comforting when you were desperate. Millie then went on to explain that the cat Arle had been suspicious of was, in fact, the archmage of Dalaran. While surprised yet again, this time it was a more pleasant surprise. "Oh! I guess I've made a new friend. Hello, Mr. Pickles~" Arle would reply in mild embarassment, running a hand through her hair to asuage a bit of her anxiety. She resisted the urge to question Millie's mistreatment of that chair. She got the impression that might just be how Millie rolled in general. "My name's Arle, by the way. It's been a bit of a crazy first day in the Omniverse, hehe..." the mage went on to remark. It probably wasn't hard to pick up on her desperation for a steady hand in these strange times, though she seemed reluctant to speak of her problems very much. She couldn't even convince herself to ask about that skirt comment from earlier, as much as she wanted to. There was,
however, one question on her mind that itched too much for her to contain.
"How does he cast spells..?" Arle ever-so-curiously asked, her gaze drifting back to the cat on the table. She assumed that Mr. Jingles would have spoken to her if he was capable, which left the question of how exactly he incanted. Perhaps it was weird that that was her only question about the archmage. Not how did a cat become an archmage, but how did someone who couldn't talk become one? The thing about that was that monsters wielding magic wasn't particularly uncommon in Arle's world. In fact, they were generally considered to be better at it than humans! Those monsters could talk quite well though, sometimes to Arle's dismay. This was different and she honestly found herself quite curious as to how such a thing was possible. Did Mr. Jingles have a way of casting spells consisting entirely of meows and trills, or some other method of agumenting his limited vocalization..?
Taking the service tag and the lollipop, the thoughtful mage shoved her musings to the back of her mind and offered the librarian a bright smile. "Thank you~!" she replied rather radiantly, choosing not to acknowledge the librarian's testy tone. She had nowhere better to be and nothing better to do, which was unfortunate because she didn't really enjoy sitting around very much. She'd much rather be adventuring, or going to school for that matter. When your schools were as dangerously irresponsible as Arle's the two were sometimes interchangeable. When she turned to try and find herself a place to sit, however, some movement caught her attention ahd she stopped to confirm that her eyes were not deceiving her.
Oh hey--It was that cat! And ... was it--...Was that gesture supposed to be--? Was the cat trying to get her attention? Arle's body tensed with mild alarm. She didn't think a regular cat would be too interested in her studies or her problems, but maybe this wasn't a regular cat? The idea that she was being misled by a monster had occured to her pretty much immediately, but... monsters also weren't usually this subtle about their nature in her experience. What was the point of pretending to be a normal cat, exactly? She wasn't sure, so perhaps she was overthinking this. Deciding that there was nothing she could do about her suspicions, Arle allowed herself to set them aside and followed the cat.
...Only to meet something else that screwed with her head in the form of a chair that somehow seemed rather enthusiastic about being sat on. Sheesh. Arle had thought she was starting to get used to all of this culture shock whenever she hopped to a new world, but evidently that just wasn't how things worked. "...Oh, hello." Arle greeted, managing to embarass herself by speaking to a chair in public. The way it had moved conveyed a sort of awareness to her, and she didn't grasp what to make of that other than that the chair must be a living thing. It wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever seen, but it was certainly confusing for the poor displaced girl. "May I?" Arle went on to request, attempting to be pleasant through her bemusement. Was the chair offering itself to her? How would she even know if it tried to answer her? Did living chairs get fulfillment from being sat on? ...Should she be concerned by that last idea? Ugh. The mage started to get overwhelmed by her thoughts, so she passed them from her mind. She'd just have to expirement and find out for herself. Hopefully she didn't wind up on the floor. Turning about, Arle carefully lowered herself onto the chair as if afraid she might offend it by carelessly plopping down. She then observed its 'reaction' or lack-there-of before allowing herself to get comfortable by crossing her legs and leaning back. Huh! Note to self. Sentient chairs are friends--...probably.
And then she was met with a more familiar face. Somehow it was a relief, even knowing that this particular girl had been rather rough with her before. Any familiarity was comforting when you were desperate. Millie then went on to explain that the cat Arle had been suspicious of was, in fact, the archmage of Dalaran. While surprised yet again, this time it was a more pleasant surprise. "Oh! I guess I've made a new friend. Hello, Mr. Pickles~" Arle would reply in mild embarassment, running a hand through her hair to asuage a bit of her anxiety. She resisted the urge to question Millie's mistreatment of that chair. She got the impression that might just be how Millie rolled in general. "My name's Arle, by the way. It's been a bit of a crazy first day in the Omniverse, hehe..." the mage went on to remark. It probably wasn't hard to pick up on her desperation for a steady hand in these strange times, though she seemed reluctant to speak of her problems very much. She couldn't even convince herself to ask about that skirt comment from earlier, as much as she wanted to. There was,
however, one question on her mind that itched too much for her to contain.
"How does he cast spells..?" Arle ever-so-curiously asked, her gaze drifting back to the cat on the table. She assumed that Mr. Jingles would have spoken to her if he was capable, which left the question of how exactly he incanted. Perhaps it was weird that that was her only question about the archmage. Not how did a cat become an archmage, but how did someone who couldn't talk become one? The thing about that was that monsters wielding magic wasn't particularly uncommon in Arle's world. In fact, they were generally considered to be better at it than humans! Those monsters could talk quite well though, sometimes to Arle's dismay. This was different and she honestly found herself quite curious as to how such a thing was possible. Did Mr. Jingles have a way of casting spells consisting entirely of meows and trills, or some other method of agumenting his limited vocalization..?
![[Image: XtThU84.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/XtThU84.jpg)
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