Chapter Text
Your name is Calliope, and you’re beginning to regret moving to this new town.
It seems so… boring, so industrial. The town is full of red, brick apartment buildings. All because of some dumb train station that happens to be so conveniently placed at the center of the town. You know you should be grateful for said train station. After all, it transports many people to work each day, including your brother. You can recall his words on the day he had showed you the apartment the two of you now share. It’s so close to the train station, Calliope! I can get to work so easily, Calliope! I can work more hours, Calliope! You shake your head.
Never mind any of this. You had promised yourself that you would make the most of this move. You’re going to head into this town with your usual happy manner, and you aren’t going to get discouraged. You’re going to prove to your brother that you can flourish here.
Oh, who are you kidding? It’s only your first full day here and it’s raining. Not even drizzles, either. The sky has opened up and unleashed hell upon your entire town.
“Come on, Calliope, there’s a street faire not even ten minutes away from here. We should go.” Caliborn, your brother, says. He seems a lot more cheerful here than he was at your old apartment, you’ll give him that. He hasn’t cursed anyone out yet. Yet.
“Caliborn, darling, I’d love to. But it’s raining something terrible out there. Surely nobody will be at the street faire today. Maybe next weekend!” you smile at your brother, but he doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.
“Please, for me?”
You look up at your brother, who gives you doe-eyes and looks at you hopefully. He’s absolutely impossible. “Alright, I’ll go with you to this faire. Only for today, though.”
Caliborn begins to lift his lips into what may be the beginning of a smile, but stops himself and scowls instead. “I knew you’d see some logic eventually.”
You shake your head at him and head into your room. Most of your belongings are still packed in boxes that lie around the room, but your makeup and most of your wardrobe have been unpacked. The only things in your closet are sundresses, being as it’s already late May. You furrow your eyebrows. You really don’t want to get one of your good dresses all wet and ruined, but first impressions are important. Besides, there are tents at street faires, right?
You end up wearing a solid pastel green sundress with a white belt tied into a bow over your waist. Your dyed white hair is tied into wavy pigtails at the top of your head. The shoes you’re wearing are tall white boots. As much as fashion matters, you would hate to ruin a good pair of ballet flats. You pull on a short denim jacket, but it’s better than nothing.
Caliborn is waiting impatiently by the door of your apartment by the time you finish getting ready. “It took you long enough!” He exclaims as he opens the door.
You flinch away from the rain as it falls, keeping your hands over your hair so it doesn’t get ruined. Caliborn shakes his head at you.
“It’s just rain,” he comments as you duck under an apartment balcony.
You shake your head. “I’ll be darned if this rain ruins my hair today! This took an exceptionally long amount of time, and it looks exquisite. There is no way I’m going to let this nonsensical weather ruin it!”
Caliborn raises his eyebrows, but doesn’t argue it further. If you hadn’t been, well, you, he probably would’ve dragged the simple bicker into a physical fight. Your brother is unfortunately known as an angry knob, and even you can’t deny that. You wonder if you’ll have to drag him home, kicking and screaming, once again today. Who knows? Your brother is in a new town, and it surely possesses at least one person that’ll perturb him.
It takes twice as long as it probably should have to arrive at the first faire tent. With you ducking under anything you could find and Caliborn’s constant complaining, there was no way you would get to the faire in ten minutes. Your brother sighs with relief when the first white tent comes into view. You sprint to it, quickly fixing your hair with your fingers once you get inside.
The first tent is full of handmade jewelry. Five tables adorned with bracelets, necklaces, and earrings border the white tent, and a small desk with a cash register and cashier sits in the center. “Ooh, Caliborn! Look!”
You take interest in a bracelet. It’s woven with a light green thread. In the center hangs a small silver heart charm. You gingerly lift it off the table and hold it up for your brother to see. “Isn’t it pulchritudinous?” you ask.
Caliborn rolls his eyes. “I fail to see how it is in any way different from any bracelet here.”
You doubt he even knows what ‘pulchritudinous’ means. “I’m purchasing it.”
“It’s a waste of eight dollars, if you ask me.”
You pay for the bracelet. It only takes you three tries to tie it around your wrist – a noteworthy feat. Covering the top of your head with your hands, you run into the next tent over. Caliborn audibly groans behind you, but follows anyway.
The next few hours are comprised of shopping and sighing at the street faire. Of course, you do the shopping and Caliborn does the sighing. To be fair, Caliborn is the one who dragged you here. He should’ve been prepared for the inevitable shopping spree that you have taken part in. Caliborn, of course, complains the entire time. You didn’t expect any better from him, honestly.
You have multiple spoils from your excursion. These include a few gemstones and geodes from the rock tent, a small statue of a fairy from the tent selling statues (“What are you ever going to use that for?”), a pastel green beanie, and your bracelet. Caliborn regards all of these as worthless expenditures, but you ignore him. You’re going to decorate your new furniture with the rocks, and the small statue would make a nice statement on the coffee table in your apartment. The beanie, of course, will serve as a hat in the winter.
“Calliope, it’s May!” Your brother argues.
“Stellar cognizance, love.” You remark, “I’ll need it in the winter. Besides, it was only half priced.”
“Whatever. I’m starving, let’s get something to eat.” Caliborn says, pulling you onto the sidewalk.
You scowl, covering your hair. You doubt it even matters anymore, your hair is probably ruined.
Scanning the area for some sort of food place, you spot a cute little frozen yogurt shop. “Look!” you exclaim, gesturing to the shop.
“Yes,” Caliborn monotones, “nothing like some more sugar.”
You stride into the shop. There’s a sign above it that reads “Jade’s Frozen Yogurt” in curly lettering. The shop is painted white with bright green highlights. White and green tables are scattered around the shop. The wall facing the street is made entirely of glass, and a bright green breakfast bar with ten chairs is placed in front of it. On the far wall of the shop is four soft serve machines, each holding two flavors of yogurt. The left adjacent wall is lined by a topping stand that has been painted green. On the wall parallel to the topping stand is a counter and a cash register.
A young girl, most likely around your age, stands behind the counter. Her long, black hair is tied back into a high ponytail. She’s wearing a bright green apron that says “Jade’s Frozen Yogurt” in the same curly font that’s on the sign. The girl wears a bright green visor to presumably keep her hair back. It has the shop name on it as well. She has bright green eyes and a genuine smile.
“Good afternoon! Welcome to Jade’s Frozen Yogurt! I’m Jade, do you need help with anything?” The girl, Jade, greets. She has a bubbly voice, and most likely a lively personality to match.
“Hi! Um, we’re here for yogurt?” you say, though it’s almost like a question.
Jade beams even wider than she already was, if that’s even possible. “Just take one of those cups over there and fill it with as much as you like!”
You smile politely and take a cup from the stack of them by the yogurt machines. Caliborn isn’t far behind you. He’s probably frowning, too out of place in this happy little shop.
Unfortunately, you have absolutely no idea how to work these yogurt machines. You glance around, looking for people that might be able to help you. There’s an average-heighted blonde at one of the machines next to you. She looks approachable.
“Excuse me,” you begin, “do you happen to know how to work these machines?”
The girl turns around to face you. She has soft features and short blonde hair that curls up at the end. Her black painted lips curve into a smile. “’Course I do! Here, let me help.”
Your hand is placed hesitantly on the bulbous black lever that you saw the blonde girl holding before. She places her cold hand on top of yours. “Push down,” the girl instructs.
Her hands guide you as you press down on the lever. You aren’t pushing it hard enough to hold it down, so she presses harder. Chocolate frozen yogurt swirls out of the machine and into your cup. “Thank you.” You say.
The blonde waves it off like it’s nothing. “No problem!” She lifts her yogurt cup – full of vanilla yogurt – from the counter. “I’m Roxy.”
“Calliope.” you respond.