Celandine had not truly begun to comprehend most of the world around her, though she was catching up a little.

she had gathered, through listening mostly, that she did not communicate the way other gembound do. there were alot of things other gembound did that she did not.

her frame was frail and thin, unable to quite hunt for herself yet and only really eating fruits she could pick from bushes and trees, and even then her fear of wandering too far from her hatchplace made that difficult. however, cepheus had recently been getting alot of traffic, atleast by word of mouth, something equally as new to her.

something about a tailor (a what?), something about cooking (no clue), but they sounded happy. Cel wanted to be happy like that. though, there was of course the problem of getting there. the path the others seemed to take led to somewhere cold that bit her skin and whipped her hair around with the wind, and she rushed back to polaris, left to find a way there that wasn't so difficult.

so now, after getting a back-ride from a VERY friendly, big winged creature who didn't seem too troubled understanding her whistles, here she stands cold and shivering in the middle of the palace, looking for whoever or whatever the tailor is. its hard to ask for directions when you don't have a hand motion for what youre talking about yet.

she walks through the halls, calling out with soft, curious whistles.

Celandine very nearly ran into Mimosa, as the tailor swept from their workshop room. They would have stumbled, if they'd had legs--instead, the serpentine body jolted and swayed, snakelike eyes blinking. "Oh!" they said, in apology--and then recognized the stranger's nakedness. "OH! My poor DEAR! Please, come in here, let's get you covered! You must be freezing!"

There were gentle tuts and tsks as they reached out, ushering Celandine straight into the room--one filled with looms and skeins of yarn, racks of multicolored feathers, boxes of beads and gemstones, and swathes of cloth on racks. Mannequins of various shapes and sizes, measuring tapes and scissors, and little Lessers working here and there completed the look of a very busy little shop indeed.

@Celandine

Celandine gasped when she ran into someone, shaking her head and wings buzzing to try and keep her up, eyes darting up to meet whoever it was.

Immediately her eyes lit up. they were so pretty! so much color!! she was so distracted by mimosa's pretty scales and feathers, that she barely processed she was being lead into another room, and once more her eyes were caught on all the pretty, colorful and shiny things within it.

She doesn't know what Mimosa means by 'getting her covered', were they hiding?? she was cold though. that much is accurate.

her eyes catch on the lessers, working diligently, and as she looks back to mimosa, she whistles again, one that sounds like a question.

"what is this place?"

was THIS the "tailor" she was looking for? she didn't know what a tailor was, but guessing was all she had right now, and that cooking thing sounded more like an activity than a thing or person.

Celandine was whisked into the tailor's room, and almost at once, a soft, white-furred, hooded cloak was draped around the fairy child.

"There--there we are!" A pause, as they tried to discern what the whistle had been meaning to say; it took them a moment to puzzle out that the sounds were words, delivered via air and not vocal cords. "Ah-! This is the tailoring room--I really should give it a better name," they mused, bustling over to the window. Cloth skeins were lifted, compared; the tailor hummed in thought between chattering sentences. "But it's where I do my work! My best work--well, technically my only work but truly, THE best work! Hmm-... You know, I haven't seen enough of your body shape around. Humanoids! Many of our visitors--we should have clothes on hand, and truly I'm out of practice-... Oh, what I'm saying is," and Mimosa turned, holding up a long swathe of bright, shiny white cloth, "would you like to exchange some of your time for some clothing? I could very much use a living model for some practice--and you would get some clothing out of it! Something to keep warm, and look a little fancy-? Like this!" they went on, turning to gesture at a frilly, but functional, dress draped across a mannequin. (It had pockets.)

This is a Winner's Choice reward thread; as such, Celandine will not be required to gather ingredients for her new wardrobe.

@Celandine

Cel took a moment to process the cloak had been wrapped around her, instinctively pulling it further around her. her shivering abided, after a moment, and she sighed contently.

She seemed relieved Mimosa got the gist of her whistling, it was a miracle samael and that big dragon understood her atleast a little. she fiddled with the miraculously soft fur as they talked, smiling at the confirmation she was in the right place.

she thought. is that what this stuff was? clothing? she eyes the dress as mimosa motions to it, mouth hanging open ever so slightly at its beauty, (she noted the pockets with a smile and raised eyebrows. storage?). she turned around enthusiastically, nodding, her eyes bright. she had plenty of time, she thought, she didn't mind trading some of it if it meant acquiring such gorgeous handiwork, as much as her mind could comprehend it atleast. half of her inner monologues complexity was samael's fault, the amount of child-like timidness and glee is difficult to portray over roleplay-narration.

currently she was as if you set a princess obsessed girl loose in a dress shop, except she had no idea what a princess was and had never heard of a dress before, but seemed just as enthsusiastic, bouncing in place.

she pointed to the dress, a sound of what was likely admiration followed with another question, a whistle followed by a few handmotions. one to the dress, one to mimosa, and some sort of hand gesture that she pondered over for a second that attempted to imply the act of building something.

"you made this?"

The Tailor smiled, listening, and then looked around. "Oh--certainly not alone!" They quickly began to indicate the little birds, the mice--"They help me thread my needles and to sew, and they string the beads, help with lace, and so on! It's all very complex and requires quite a bit of teamwork! They deserve credit!"

Mimosa beamed.

"All right--stay here just a moment. I'm going to get you a warm drink and then we can get started! Make yourself comfortable!"

The Tailor slithered off abruptly, and was gone in a streak of color and white scales. They were gone for nearly five minutes; and when they returned it was with a mug of hot cocoa, pressed into Celandine's hands. "Hold onto this, but give it a few minutes to cool before you drink it AND--it's time to get started!" They clapped two hands, the other two reaching for a measuring tape resting on a stool.

Then--assuming Celandine allowed it--they began to measure! Widths and heights, circumferences--and the first pair of hands lifted a pencil and notebook, marking everything quickly down.

@Celandine

she looked to the lessers, giving a small wave (even if they couldn't wave back). it SOUNDED like alot of work. it certainly showed, didn't it?

she nodded and waited for mimosa to return, and when they would return they'd see her staring at one of the collections of beads, not touching them but studying them with great intensity. she looked back up and smiled.

she took the drink, noting with mild surprise how hot the mug is, trying not to drop it, and nodded.

an affirmative, confident whistle. she was ready!

she let mimosa do her thing, moving or turning or twirling accordingly when asked.

The measuring alone would take some twenty minutes--and at some point in that time, Mimosa would cheerfully inform Celandine that the hot chocolate was safe to drink.

"So, may I ask your name? I am Mimosa--the Tailor of this palace, in case you couldn't tell!" they offered, with a laugh.

And--once all was said and done, with the little Lessers bustling--they sat back with a smiling sigh. "All right! This will take a day or two. Please--enjoy the Palace, meanwhile. There are some lovely gardens, and a theatre--and Nedies, in the kitchen, though he's a little busy at the moment. Don't be upset if he's rushed! He's really very kind. When you return, I should have some clothing ready for you--perhaps even an entire wardrobe!"

@Celandine

Cel happily sipped her hot chocolate, a gleeful, delighted sound at the discovery of the wonders of chocolate and hot coco.

Cel pondered. samael knew her name, but would hers be so easy to replicate for others? well, ddn't hurt to try.

she pointed to herself, trying not to obstruct any measurements, and let out a melodic, short whistle, comprised of a few notes. it sounded quite nice, a bit like fluttering butterfly wings, or, how samael might describe it.

she tried to force out a sound, try to say Mimosa's name, but all that would escape was a nervous, back of the throat squeak. she shook her head, and, pointing to the tailor, assigned mimosa a whistle. something low but delightful, short and sweet.

at the very end of everything, she smiled up at mimosa, whistling a thank you. she was so excited, she didnt exactly know what a wardrobe was either but she gathered it was alot. she nodded, buzzing her wings in delight.

she wishes mimosa a final goodbye, and, (if the gesture was not avoided and/or protested), move to hug mimosa in thanks. whether or not this gersture was allowed or returned, she would leave the room to explore the rest of the palace. where were those gardens??

*cel is afk-ing somewhere in the castle

When Celandine returned, a second hug would first be offered--the first, of course, having been accepted. And now there would be an entire wardrobe for her to select from, all sized to her form.

"Here you are! Try them on--I'll give you privacy, and take what you like. Let me know what you think!" Mimosa called, the Lesser birds fluttering and tweeting around their shoulders. Then they turned, whisking out of the room, leaving Celandine with a rack of fitted clothes: dresses and pants, a vest and shirt, mostly in pristine white.

The birds would, of course--as befit little fairy tale tailor critters the universe over--help Celandine with zips and bows. Some of the clothing, even, would be sized to suit her better once she was fully grown!

@Celandine