For as Regnum born and bred as she was, for as loyal and loving to her country as she was, Dasha could appreciate other faction’s fine tastes. The Mercator way of doing things was different, sure, but they offered so much in their capital city of Caeluma. Whenever the bird golem made its way around to her flower then, she would try and take the day or part of the day off to get on and go shopping.

That day, though, she had found herself lost amongst the numerous winding streets and stalls. Blue eyes flickered one way and then the next searching for a street sign that she recognized. Finally, they dropped down to her phone— that notoriously had no signal in this particular area. Hm… Maybe she would change plans if it kept being so difficult.

Looking up again, Dasha sighed. She supposed she could pick a place and ask for directions— or maybe look, there was a place offering refreshment? That was something she could use right then. Walking up to the door and pushing inside, Dasha wasn’t immediately aware of what type of refreshment was being offered there. The interior was nice looking enough so… hm…

As the woman approached, Dasha’s gaze fell and focused on her. The warm greeting drew a smile to her features. “Hello—“ As things were listed off, she hummed along with it. A soothing drink and warm meal sounded wonderful. Conversation? Perhaps if she wasn’t too busy? A— Blue eyes blinked a couple of times. Had she heard that right?

“A… some food and drink… and maybe some conversation sounds nice…” Dasha admitted. The thought of a massage also sounded nice but… a little awkward at an all in one place? Somewhere in the back of her mind, Dasha was already snapping to the realization of what this place was. She’d already stepped in, though. The reason she had stepped in there had been briefly forgotten.

When the service menu was handed to her, Dasha registered at the forefront of her mind what was already at the back of it. Color slowly drew on her features, heightened as a few things that came to mind were highlighted for emphasis. “Oh my….” The thought of receiving a service of compliments sounded… very nice, if fake, but very nice all the same? The thought of someone petting her hair sounded nice too but…. but…. “Wow….” Her features had warmed even further. “M-maybe some tea to start and… I’ll… think over this…” Some deep inherent part of her wanted to run, but the other part of her felt like she’d already started this so might as well run with it.

“Thank you…” Dasha nodded as the woman gestured and followed with her as she started to move. As she was directed to the booth, Dasha eased down onto one of the couches. It was soft, comfortable, and private. The touch screen table was a nice touch (hah), if she did say so herself.

Dasha’s attention didn’t last there long, however, as the woman started speaking again. A curious look came to her features as the woman demonstrated the ordering mechanism. The shift in her coin purse would indeed be felt and had her straightening very briefly in surprise. “I see—“ In many ways, that could be invasive, but to Dasha, it might as well have been the same as giving them her credit card number to start. “I understand.”

As the woman left momentarily, Dasha sat back in the booth and took in a slow breath. The sense of cool privacy here was rather nice, even if the possibilities of what occurred beyond did prick at her mind some. She did thumb around with the lights some before scrolling through the menu on the table. Oh, they had quite a lot here too. She would be spinning through the menu when the woman returned, but as she registered her presence, Dasha was quick to look up. A small, soft smile pulled on her features as the tea was poured before her. Very briefly, she was back home again where rows of servants circulated the manor. For the moment, it was nice.

“Ah, Dasha,” she answered as her name was questioned. “I think… I’ll have the seasonal salad and the tomato soup,” she answered looking down at the menu again a bit thoughtfully. “And ah…” Some color came to her features again. “Also I’m… not sure how the other things work exactly but… I … guess the compliments package?” Dasha’s voice had grown smaller and smaller with every word. Her smile had twisted a little at every word as well. She felt… very small all of a sudden, despite how tall she actually was.

Warmth touched Dasha’s features again, and she gave a small nod at the question. Yes, compliments from a rather professional (and pretty) woman after a pretty busy and stressful situation sounded far far far far too lovely.

Dasha had assumed the closing of the curtains was for privacy. She had assumed the woman was going to fulfill her order before coming back. These thoughts would be thrown for a loop, then, when two women appeared from the curtain thereafter. “H—“ How wasn’t exactly a question Dasha should have asked. Magic, clearly, was at play, but— but how? “O-oh…” She nodded a bit at the assurance.

How much can I get away with? This thought was so stark and in contrast to Dasha’s normal thoughts that she nearly balked at herself for them. What no, she wasn’t the type to be thinking such things?! It had to be the area, the room, the situation. But whether it was one thing or all the things, Dasha couldn’t deny that even in her shyness, there was a sort of excitement surrounding all of this.

And then the clone spoke. Dasha’s eyes flashed to her again. Oh, she could get used to this already. “I did just get my hair trimmed…” she chuckled softly reaching up to feel over the ends that came to a soft point now. As much as she loved long hair, as much as she loved when she could tie it back, Dasha had to admit she loved her short hair almost a little more. It felt so nice and healthy after a good trim…

A small giggle wormed its way up in Dasha’s chest as the woman spoke. “Yes, yes exactly…” Even with the point out of her own nervousness, Dasha couldn’t help but giggle again. Nervousness was being pushed around by a strange assurance, a vague comfort, in that such things were about her in the moment and very surface level at that.

“I sort of go in between long and short…” Dasha answered softly. “I love when it is long, but taking care of it can be such a hassle sometimes… I work in the Regnum military, so some days there’s not a lot of time to take care of it.” She wished there was. She wished to be taken care of and pampered all day long with hair washings and blow dryings and Goddess knew what else she could do for it if she had the time. She’d probably just be mush by the end of it rather than a strong upright faerie, though.

Tea did give her a moment though, both to catch her breath, and to think over what had been said. The warmth again was a comfort.

Dasha paused very briefly feeling over her own inner palm with her thumb before slowly extending her hand to the woman palm up. Her hands were callus. Swordsmanship and her military lifestyle had truly done a number on them. There was even a small scar in the palm of that particular hand from a training accident years ago now. It was light, barely noticeable on first glance, but very much there. All the same, though, her nails were well kept. They couldn’t be long. Unfortunately, she had to have them cut a certain way as not to mess with the gloves she wore at times. However, the filing was symmetrical, and at the moment a clear coat of nail polish made them shine a bit.

Dasha’s gaze fell on her own palm as the woman remarked on it. She did work hard, so very hard, in every form and function. Whether it was from self-pride or self-doubt, Dasha did not back up or back down from her responsibilities. She was who she chose to be.

“Thank you…” came the soft murmured response, a deeper, more personal smile curling on her features. Having someone else acknowledge such things, even if she didn’t really know her, was… was so…. so nice. “I use a sword primarily…” she answered. “Though I have learned archery for when I’m called to do long distance…” The latter was harder, and she would be lying if she didn’t doubt it had something to do with her long distance eye-sight. She still needed to see a doctor about that. She just… didn’t want to.

A small, sillier smile pulled onto Dasha’s features as the woman spoke. “Depending on the foe… they may or may not be worthy,” she joked back softly feeling equal parts wonderful and goofy for playing along. Could she imagine herself as someone who stood on high deciding who would get to see her face and who wouldn’t before she reigned down upon them? Yes, yes Dasha could. Did she think it was practical or even possible to do so? That was the only debatable part, heh.

What came after, though, had Dasha’s features falling just a little. “Ah…” Not really. Her military life opened the door for friends but not really these kinds of friends. The friends she had made outside of it were far and few between. And her family. Well. She was not the favorite daughter and never could be. No matter what she did, no matter who she strove to be, no matter what, Dasha could not match up to Ilya. “I wish…” she sighed a bit softly.