Seraphina
the artificer
working the goldfields on the high sierras
the early snow began to fall
the early snow began to fall
Sera beams to the squeeze of her hand before she moves to stand to add music to the background while they chat. “What are friends for?” She asks as she moves the needle into place, letting the sound ring out into the quiet room around them, before she’s settling back down beside her friend as the question of her crush is aired. Sera flushes a fraction, a tilt of her head as if she’s debating where to start.
Eventually, she curls up beside her friend, drawing her legs up and pulling the plate back into her lap to poke at with the chopsticks. “Well, it’s been a while. But it was before I was the Artificer. I was working hard to get in and get noticed and I had this habit my father hated of spending time in the Silk Houses.” She shrugs with a soft laugh before she’s tilting her head back to rest on the back of the couch. “And there was a boy who worked in the kitchens of the White Hart. We hit it off quite well.” A bright, nostalgic sigh leaves her lips, fully for dramatic flair. “I suppose I had a thing for the rugged types. But anyway, my father found out about it after a while and,” She lifts the hand with the chopsticks, using them to tap together and pull apart as if it were a mouth speaking, “’we can’t have that, no boy that works in a place like the White Hart is ever going to be good enough for you’.” Her voice takes on a deeper tone, imitating her father, before she rolls her eyes.
“And a few weeks later, he was gone. No notes, nothing. Just gone as if he hadn’t ever worked there at all.” Her gaze lifts to Tobi then, her smile edging a bit more toward a damper before she shakes out of it. “Is it time for ice cream yet?”
Eventually, she curls up beside her friend, drawing her legs up and pulling the plate back into her lap to poke at with the chopsticks. “Well, it’s been a while. But it was before I was the Artificer. I was working hard to get in and get noticed and I had this habit my father hated of spending time in the Silk Houses.” She shrugs with a soft laugh before she’s tilting her head back to rest on the back of the couch. “And there was a boy who worked in the kitchens of the White Hart. We hit it off quite well.” A bright, nostalgic sigh leaves her lips, fully for dramatic flair. “I suppose I had a thing for the rugged types. But anyway, my father found out about it after a while and,” She lifts the hand with the chopsticks, using them to tap together and pull apart as if it were a mouth speaking, “’we can’t have that, no boy that works in a place like the White Hart is ever going to be good enough for you’.” Her voice takes on a deeper tone, imitating her father, before she rolls her eyes.
“And a few weeks later, he was gone. No notes, nothing. Just gone as if he hadn’t ever worked there at all.” Her gaze lifts to Tobi then, her smile edging a bit more toward a damper before she shakes out of it. “Is it time for ice cream yet?”
buried treasure for my darling
under redwood trees so tall
under redwood trees so tall
