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Equality in spirit [Charlotte - Private / Invite]

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It seemed Bellmuse was temperate, warm. And more than often had clear, sunny days. Then again, taking roughly three days to realize the weather was a tad short, point taken. She slowly sat down on a bench. Well, sit down, technically, her construct allowed her to 'sit' without putting weight on a chair, as long as he feet touched the ground. Muscles locked and internal stability pulled forwards ever so slightly. It was a social routine made to fit in. Act as a human would. And be a human in any and all forms.

She laced her fingers together over her lap. The massive scythe on the ground and leaning against her seated form, left arm hooked around the rather redundantly large piece of weaponry. And so she 'sat' on the bench. Enjoying the view the park gave her. The soft rustling of deep green and healthy leaves by a soft, warm wind that soothed the skin. The sun shining merrily with a gentle, golden glow. Birds chattering and chirping in yet another bustling and thriving day of their lives. This was nice, once in a while. Lovely, even. Just have a 'seat', take a deep breath and let nature overtake you. She exhumed such peace and serenity that slowly, a bird fluttered down and perched on her shoulder, letting out a chipper little tweet at her. And she smiled gently, making sure not to move an inch in order to scare the little critter off.

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The park was particularly green on this day, being well out of spring and into summer the park was full of life; both that of the locals and that of the animals. Birds on Bellmuse were weird, it wasn't so much that they weren't the typical species on the mainland so much as they were... slightly adapted species from that on the mainland? Beaks would be different, wingspan to potentially, the differences weren't as great as that on some islands but they were certainly noticeable. Wider beaks for cracking nuts and crossbills for scooping seeds seeds mostly, due to Bellmuse bountiful forrest beings a prime food-source. Course, the trees were home to various insects as well, and so sharp beaks were to be expected. Worms and maggots and grubs burrowing through the elder trees.

Charlotte herself preferred those rounder and twisted beaks though, she found them more interesting than the simple pointed ones. Walking the path, taking up a good three fourths of it, she was beginning to feel the pangs of hunger once-more. She was approaching her destination, in the park there was a certain bench; behind which was a prime, flat, location on the grass to set up her picnic. Atop her thorax was a rather large wicker basket, a neatly folded red and white checkered blanket covering the top. She was dressed in her usual garb, what would be best described as a hand stitched and crafted blue and white dress... but due to the size of her lower half rather than coming down over legs it simply ruffled around the connected tissue between her more human-esq half and her spider half. Her hair was done up in a bun with a similarly stitched, white, head piece wrapped around it almost like a mundane tiara. Pinned to the white fabric before her chest was a rather plain, jet black with a dirty golden pin, broach; nearly three inches long and just over one wide.

Reaching the bench she planned to sit behind, perhaps even lean against to rest better, she found herself faced with a peculiar sight. Now, Bellmuse fashion trends weren't exactly... to Charlotte's taste. In particular woman's fashion. Charlotte showed her lower half not so much by choice but my necessity, there was a flood of flesh and skin throughout Bellmuse that was for certain. She supposed it was to be expected on an island with beaches but... that didn't mean she had to like it. Seeing exposed leg so often... having legs others feared, it wasn't great. But while this woman wasn't exactly conservatively dressed Charlotte had certainly experienced much much worse. She wore a bizarre, and in Charlotte's humble opinion slightly clashing, mixture of white, red and an abundance of black. A white coat with a broad, red lined, neckpiece, black stalkings with a curious design on their edges and perhaps most bizarre of all was the dress. Around her neck it seemed to cast up a multitude of straps in an almost collar like fashion.

Her clothes weren't Charlotte's main draw however, that would be the particularly large weapon laying next to her. A tell-tale sign that this was another one either intent on heading to the academy during the next semester or one she had simply missed in her journeys up there... perhaps even a lecturer as young as she looked? Charlotte was after all quite the bizarre student, liable to miss out on social confrontations with her fellow students, taking more private one on one lessons due to her size and difficulty fitting in classrooms... not to mention her non-violence vows as part of her path toward a true doctorate excluding her from most but the most basic training combat classes. Finding this dangerously dressed, armed, student enamoured with a bird on her shoulder however Charlotte thought it wise to maintain a safe distance so as not to spook her. Kind as she was being to the bird... well her appearance would be quite the shock and her weapon was in arm's reach.

Just over two meters away Charlotte let out a light cough to alert the woman to her presence before lightly grasping the ruffled ends of her dress and deeply curtseyed. Closing her eyes as she sank and opening as she rose she introduced herself in her gentle, lightly posh sounding, voice; "Good Afternoon. My name is Charlotte Monochrome, a medical student at Syne, I take it by that tool there you are a visitor to the Academy? Or perhaps a new student or lecturer? I believe we have had quite the increase over this Summer, would you care to take tea with me?" Charlotte paused, turning and twisting her body around to reach and pull the large basket from her back. She seemed to struggle to hold it up, due likely to the weight of it's contents, but she fought the strain. "I hope that isn't too sudden, it's simply nice to not eat alone! Not to mention I have food in abundance, would be a waste not to share it."

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And even then, the scythe had the perk of it's massive reach. It was almost comically big, though, the absurdity was hard to point out, the sharpened edge gleaming in the sunlight. Notches and chinks in the blade hinted that the scythe had seen it's fair share of battles and parried blows. And yet here sat the wielder, only intentional and ritual scars decorating her skin. Which could only hint at the fact she had emerged victorious more than once in said fights.

The soft cough managed to coax the rather intimidating scythe user to jolt up slightly, causing the bird distress. Hopping up and flying away swiftly with a panicked chattering. Disappointing, but it wasn't entirely unexpected. Her head tilted and craned around, grey eyes settled on the spider faunus and a stroke of deep navy hair was pushed away with a soft puff of breath and a gloved hand. She stared at Charlotte, correct. But it didn't seem like she was shocked or distraught by the more than obvious faunus heritage.

But rather, examining. Looking the woman from head to.. The bottom of all eight of the arachnid appandages. "Good afternoon," Mathilde retorted. Leather creaking softly as she folded one leg over the other. Her hands moving slightly to adjust the scythe. Turning the haunting blade pointed away from Charlotte. A friendly gesture? Maybe a call for trust? Or perhaps something far more darker to the weapon? It sure looked like it could hand out supernatural curses.

"Mathilde Harmaa," she answered. "Student. And a pleasure," she added. The cold expression and the cool, analytical face Charlotte was first met with warmed up and relaxed into a gentle smile. She sat up as the invitation was granted, pulling up the scythe with her and resting the end in the palm of her hand, letting the massive weapon rest against her shoulder. And closed the distance that was reserved easily. She held up her other hand and reached for the basket. "I'd love to have tea, allow me," she offered, pressing her free palm against the bottom. Her height a few dozen centimeters shy from the faunus' full height. And as she did so, the strain on her arms would decrease, since, well. She was just way stronger. A warrior, rather than a healer and medical student.

If she was given the basket, she'd lower her hand again, holding it up on roughly chest height, turning to the grassy expense that laid behind the bench she was sat on. "I presume you have a favourite spot here, Miss Monochrome?"

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The less than subtle shifting of leather did to a degree relax Charlotte. This was indeed no vampire nor phantasmic being, bound in such leather and with her occasional observable scar. She was indeed typical in all ways but dress, well and the overtly large scythe but regardless, she was glad she found herself face to face with another person; one reasonably polite at that. Granted, her continuous adjustment of her weapon wasn't exactly the most calming of gestures but at least it wasn't a nefarious swing. Gently nodding as the woman approached she allowed her to take the basket... though the weight of the contents, regardless of her major, should surprise Mathilde. For you see, being divided as she was meant her organs were moved and in many cases enlarged. Not only that but she naturally required more energy to move her body and had to move more legs in order to do so!

As a result of this the surprisingly heavy basket contained the following; Three flasks of tea, Containers of sugar and milk, A flask of leak soup, One roast leg of lamb, with boiled potatoes and gravy, in a sealed silver container, A sealed rack of ham and cucumber sandwiches, twelve sandwiches total, Three large red apples and finally all the cutlery and plating, albeit the latter plastic, required to plate the foodstuffs. Needless to say, there was reason to Charlotte's strain; but on her back it had sat quite comfortably due to the weight distribution of her legs and it's past training as a stretcher/operating-table. It would certainly be holdable by the combat-student yes, but maybe not as casually as she had thought? Regardless Charlotte thought it best to had it off as she was unsure she could move with it. "Ah, thank you for shouldering that burden Miss Harmaa. My physical training is not quite that of the other students, even in my Major. And the pleasure is mine I can assure you. This is indeed where I typically have my noon meal."

Walking not far past the bench, perhaps twenty or so meters to a good flat location, she would turn to the woman (assuming she had followed) and take the blanket from the top of the basket; gently and neatly flattening and spreading it across the grass before taking her seat at the far side. Rather than as a typical human or faunus would she folded in and flattened her legs; all but the front two folding behind her. Those front two almost appeared to cross before her person as if like folded arms, assuming the woman would set down the basket Charlotte would open two flasks, pouring a cup-sized-cap full into each lid before handing one over to the woman. "Sugar or milk? Please help yourself. Oh and would you like some food? As you'll see I've got sandwiches and also-" She would open the wide metal tin, steam and smell bellowing out of the roasted lamb leg dinner, "I cooked it myself, feel free to eat as you please."

Allowing Miss Harmaa time to pour her milk and add her sugar she would cut herself a portion of the meat and skewer a couple of potatoes, adding them to her plate and drawing herself a knife and fork. Smiling lightly, when her companion had finished, she would then take the milk and sugar to prepare her own drink; "So, you are indeed a student; how wonderful! How exciting. What is your major? Are you intending to take up a sport while you're here? Enjoying the beach?" She pried in a manner not dissimilar to a grandmother who had just seen her granddaughter for the first time in months.

Should the woman not bring the basket she would simply pause, waiting and cock her head waiting for a reasoning.

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It was surprisingly heavy, correct. Moreso than she had guessed when she lifted it slightly with Charlotte's combined strength. However, her body being designed to provide quite the portion of physical strength, her legs were carrying roughly 400 kilograms of weight, it wasn't something she couldn't handle. But then again, the spider faunus had a way larger body. So the only explanation that this basket was this heavy was the fact that it was filled to the brim with food. Such a body did require quite some energy, after all. Though, then again, the fact was that saying this out loud may have been just a tad offensive. So she refrained from doing so! She was supposed to fit in and make friends, after all.

"You're more than welcome," Mathilde assured with a soft smile, following Charlotte into the field. She held out the basket as she noticed Charlotte going for the sheet ontop of it. And stepped back to let the spider faunus set up the small, stereotypical white and red, squared picnic location. "I can understand why you would pick this spot," Mathilde piped up, placing the basket down, before placing her scythe in the grass behind the blanket and settling down. On her knees, feet sliding to the side so that she sat in between her own legs. She raised her hand to take the cup and nodded her thanks with a gentle smile, taking the small bottle of milk.

She stirred the cup gently after adding the appropriate amount, taking a soft sip from the cup and settling it down. "Since you're offering," it would be rude after all, to deny the offer. "I'll have one of those sandwiches." She brought her hands up, pulling the gloves off and placing them in her lap. She always thought it a shame when she was 'ate'. The food was just incinerated and it granted her nothing. Not even taste. Which was saddening in and of itself. But it was a social concept she gladly partook in. Just to make another smile. "Combat major," she answered, a soft chuckle followed. "Pretty obvious, judging from the rather oversized weapon. As for sports.. Or hobbies. I'm not sure. I haven't had the chance to check out the provided facilities yet."

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Charlotte herself was, while perhaps not quite between a rock and a hard place, certainly not in the best position. While politeness and her general kindness had led her to invite the girl, her hunger was greatly causing her to regret it. For you see, there was nothing Charlotte wanted more than to consume all of the food set out before her. She was growing ravenous at this point, the tantalising scent of the gravy pushing her ever closer to the edge... but she had to retain her manners, she simply knew she had to. She couldn't let it be thought that spider faunus were ravenous being, humans were much too uncaring to the plight of her trait and those similar. So she would rush her eating, politely with knife and fork and dabbing at her lips with a napkin quite often, but as politely yet quickly as she could. She halted in her eating, albeit briefly as the woman responded. Lightly laughing at her claims, it was quite obvious she had not gone to the academy yet.

"On the outside one would assume that major yes, however students aren't always so obvious as you nor I. Many Medical students don't seem to have taken any sort of Hypocratic oath, so they wield weapons also. Dust and Combat especially are hard to tell as part, as most Dust Specialists will use weapons and a lot of combat students apply dust to their weapons." Charlotte responded, "The best way one would understand it would be by seeing it I suppose, but rest assured; appearances can be deceiving up there... as for hobbies I do most from home so I cannot share many club details, I mostly do needlework and make music, though I know there is a gym in the area most students do their combat training. Sparring and such. And there are benches where people do weapon work and fiddle with gadgets."

Charlotte would then, once again, descend upon the food before her, the slice of lamb seeming vanishing before she cut herself a second slice; collecting further potatoes all the while. As she did so, continuing to communicate; "So would you be a local then? Or did you come from the mainlands? I myself have only particularly been to Atlas, arrived here at a very young age.”

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Implying Mathilde was a socially adapted human. Or a human at all. If only Charlotte knew.

"I see," she answered. Interesting information, dust applied to weaponry. She had seen and heard quite a bit of the Vytal festival. Of weaponry fulfilling multiple roles. A weapon that was also a gun. It was ingenious. And more than certainly something she should look into with her own rather oversized scythe. She loved the weapon and it was quite the tool to work with once under proper control. In terms of range and speed. Not to mention the damaging capabilities the arched, honed blade held. But if it also could be a gun, why not? It would improve combat efficiency by a rough estimate of fourty seven percent. Which was more than substantial. All these calculations and possible paths went on as she slowly started to nibble on the sandwich, a bit absent minded, even. Though her attention was immediately back diverted to Charlotte once the sound of her voice halted momentarily. She took a proper bite, nodding softly.

"Music?" She questioned with a faint smile after swallowing. She never really had the time to listen to, and appreciate music. And it puzzled her, how normal people could appreciate it in such a way that it put them at ease. But, she was happy it worked for them. "What kind do you make then? You look like a person who would play piano."

"Atlas, funny you should mention," she answered. "I only came here a week ago," she smiled and let out a soft sigh. She knew exactly how Faunus had been treated there. It was a shame. "Atlas native, I'm glad to be as far away as possible, though. How have you experienced it there? I know it's less than ideal there for your species."

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"Ah, not so much. I practice simply flute and acoustic guitar, my abnormal lung capacity aiding with the former and the later well... surgical fingers are well practiced fingers. Naturally any additional practice with them is good practice. Additionally it aids my weaving talents, albeit at the cost of some corse fingertips." She would then take another pause to eat, now feeling revitalised to a point of lesser hunger rather than continuous starvation. Her simile returning and the colour to her cheeks reforming she would listen to the girl describe herself as an Atlas native and require quite simply; "Oh I was only there once or twice with my adopted mother but we did indeed experience that yes. Though there was certainly good and bad there, the technology and the buildings are incredible... even if the people there have shown some less desirable traits. Oh, I forgot my trips to Menagerie also. I did enjoy my times there much more! The markets and the sea, it was quite like Syne in some ways."

Now more in control she would eat much more politely, cutting her potatoes and keeping her elbows high. "But you said you were quite anxious to leave Atlas, have you perhaps a less obvious faunus trait... though you said less than obvious for my kind. More simple family matters perhaps? If so it would indeed be rude to pry and I won't. But do not worry, you are quite safe here. Despite the looks I may on occasion receive for my trait, the island is quite non violent. You should be safe regardless of your history."

Stoping and taking a sip of tea she would continue, "But about your major, do oyu have prior experience in hunting? I assume you must if you haul such a large tool around, did you train at an academy or?"

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Mathilde tilted her head as Charlotte spoke, captivated momentarily by how her lips seemed to move. She was never much of a talker, nor did she meet a lot of people this socially adapted. It was refreshing, and the faunus spoke and spoke and spoke. It was refreshing to  not panic in regard of what to say. Small talk and random topics were hard for Mathilde to bring up. After all, computers weren't too good at improvisation. So she just smiled, listened and nodded. "A weaver, hm?" She asked with a soft smile. "I'd say it being quite fitting, no offense intended, ofcourse." It was a tad stereotypic, an arachnid faunus that had taken up weaving as one of her hobbies. "I've only seen Atlas. And now, Bellmuse." She finished her sandwich and sat back, one hand settling on the ground. "I was hoping, once graduated, I could travel as a huntress," she smirked at the thought. "Who knows, might even have fellow huntsmen with me," she mused. That would be quite the achievement. Form such a bond with anyone to travel and fight together. Even androids could dream.

"Family, scars," she answered simply. How it annoyed her to lie, but she needed to. If anything, a faunus heritage was hard to live with. But tell people you're an android. Well, it was hardcoded that it would spell trouble. Besides, telling someone she was told to fit in and lie, it was pretty counterproductive. Safe, however, made her cackle only slightly. "I don't lug that thing around for show," she assured with a soft shake of her head. "There may be people stronger than me, though it's the kind of weapon that's pretty intimidating." She rolled her shoulder with a soft grimace. "I have," she frowned momentarily as several memories popped up, flashbacks. Calculations starting as to what she could've done better. What improvements she needed to make. It all came down to speed. Or a lack thereof.

Her hand shivered momentarily, before she clenched a fist and just purged the thoughts from her mind. "Pretty good experience in hunting," she finished her sentence. "Academy-trained in Atlas, yes. Mostly focussed on my physical being and weapon prowess. Never a fan of Dust, you see. When that fails, what else do you have if you don't have a trained body?"

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Charlotte internally rolled her eyes at the weaving comment, keeping her mouth full in order to avoid showing distaste. She would respond; "Clothes don't exactly come in my size or style, I need quite specific skirts and dresses to comfortably cover the connective tissue between my upper and lower halves. Most good quality dresses are designed to be either form fitting or billowy, neither particularly work."

The girl was clearly quite uncomfortable, hand clenching as she talked about her past. Thus Charlotte thought it best not to pry, upon being asked about what she trained in there was only really one answer. "Most all of my training has gone into my semblance, I can take hits quite well due to my size but I can. While I like to apply myself healing others I can construct barriers, manufacture traps, gag, blind and pull things from range. It has got some more utility uses, scaling buildings and such, but given my size they aren't particularly useful for myself. Rather usable by others." And with that Charlotte would bring her hands together, white wisps forming between them, and upon opening her hands numerous spiderweb-esq strings would be connecting the hands. As she widened the gap between the two the strings only appeared to grow longer. Then clenching her hands before reopening them the strings were concentrated on her wrist area; making a bandage primed for applying.

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That did make sense. "Hm, did you tailor that dress, then?" She inquired, nodding at Charlotte, hinting at the piece she was wearing now. "It looks great," Mathilde followed, a soft smile forming on her lips. She rested her hands on her lap, a cup of tea laying in one, while the other held the handle of the small porcelain cup. Soft plumes slowly ascending from the cup. She seemed serene, at ease. Yet her face had that distinguishing cold feature to it. When no emotion was displayed, there legitimately was none displayed. Just cold and devoid of anything. It was an odd sight to be sure, but some people were built that way. Right?

She nodded softly as Charlotte explained, glancing down as she pressed her hands together. Another one of those curious tilts of her head. Like an eager puppy learning something new, listening to her explanation as she formed the silken bandages. "That's impressive," she said with a soft nod, glancing up at Charlotte again. "My semblance's a tad more straightforward. I get real heavy," she chuckled slowly. "A woman's biggest nightmare. And I weaponize it." Another lie, well. She had to. Her real semblance, she'd rather not go into detail about that disgusting thing. "It really comes in handy, however, when a door needs to be opened or a wall needs to be torn down."

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Charlotte's face would grow red for a moment, unused to compliments that were tasteful and savoury and more used to (on very rare occasions) perverse cat-calls, steadying herself quickly however she would delicately curtsey; gripping the rim of her dress as she did so. She was much to distracted to notice the lack of emotion in the girl's face as she sat with her tea. "Why thank you, I did indeed, I have many of this one as the materials are quite affordable. More practical than intended for style but I did craft them with the intent to maintain some elegancy. Your outfit looks great to, you certainly would stand out in a crowd; makes it quite clear you are a huntress."

While Charlotte did not find the weight joke particularly humorous, weighing a rather abnormal amount herself with no other to compare to, she could most certainly see the usefulness to a huntress... that and she still hadn't quite overcome receiving the compliment. Redness she thought she had contained still lightly spread over her face. Flexing her hands slightly the aura threads connecting them would vanish. "Ah I see, and I suppose you could pin your opponents as well with such an ability yes? While I'm unsure how useful that would be in a true hunting setting in a tournament that could prove quite valuable, particularly with a team to back you up. Immobilise one person to allow your allies to better chip away at their aura."

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Red? The blood obviously rushed to Charlotte's cheeks. And Mathilde had to think on this one quite long. Why, was it an affliction. Or rather, a natural reaction? It was then that she realized why Charlotte was blushing. She was emberassed. Hard to recognise, because it was one of the things she personally couldn't feel. "I'm sorry," she said, being rather quick on the uptake and sitting up slightly, inching the cup over slightly. Some of the searing hot tea dripping on her thigh. But she didn't even seem to blink at it. "I didn't mean to emberass you," she offered with a faint smile. Straightening her cup again, having completely missed the fact she spilled on herself.

"Quite correct,"
she answered with a soft chuckle. "Pin down, be an obstacle, you name it." She sat back again properly, letting out a soft cough. "I think at times, I've weighed around... Six hundred?" She nodded to herself. "Give or take a few kilos." She glanced back at Charlotte and tilted her head, pondering in silence for a moment. "Are you a part of a team, miss Monochrome? Or am I sorely mistaken and is this for combat majors only?"

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"No no, it's most certainly not your fault. I am simply not accustomed to having my craft admired in such away, alas. Again I am most certainly thankful for the praise~ It has been some time since I was last praised so kindly." Charlotte gently responded, smiling.She continued to listen as the girl went in depth with her power use, though was grateful she had chosen not to display them as she had. She wasn't one for wrestling so being pinned did not sound like a particularly fun time.

It was then that teams were mentioned, groups which formed to go out on missions and worked their way through school together. Seeing a potential to perhaps turn the embarrassment upon Mathilde she smiled; "I am not in a team no, and they consist of a combination of most any major, is this perhaps some form of proposal dear Mathilde? If it is I'd be more than willing to accept, most any team could use a field physician after all and though I am not suited for combat you appear to cover said base very well. Teams are formed of a group of four, though if you could indeed find two others and did intend to include myself, I'd be more than willing to meet with those you found."

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"Oh," Mathilde fell in, glad for Charlotte pointing out her faux pas. "Well, you're welcome?" She tried, now just growing more confused on the topic at hand. And finally deciding to not waste any more energy on trying to figure it out. It didn't mean she didn't watch and learn. Mannerisms, figures of speech. There were some she was taught by her original creators, but she still had to learn. It was one of her primary directives. Learning, adapting, versatility in any and all situations. Be it a social call or a field of battle.

"A proposal?" It didn't embarrass her in the slightest. It was another suggestion that made her confused to some extent. Gears grinded and she knew she had to hurry. A response had to be given. "If you, or anyone else, thinks well of my leadership and wishes to rally behind me. I would be honoured to answer such a call." She frowned in thought however. "Though, that means I would have to prove said ability. And I don't think I have just yet, Miss Monochrome." And she was perusing every memory, from this point back to where she first came to Bellmuse, to find something that could hint at her ability to lead. And, as tradition had it, once she fell back in thought. Her face grew cold and neutral. The frown disappeared by now. "Mayhaps," she concluded finally. "I have no other individuals who have made the same offer as you did," she looked Charlotte in the eyes now. "But I will remember it. And if the circumstance calls for it, take you up on it."

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