Giving lessons to children would always be, and always had been, a strange thing, Rosaline reflected. Sometimes they caught on quickly, like a fish to water, and other times, it was like trying to toss a bird into a pond with how hard it was to impart the simplest of things to them. But still, the tall brunette enjoyed her work, and wouldn’t have changed it for anything. Well, at least, not unless her Sacrifice wished it of her, and even then, she would have been greatly saddened by it. Shaking those thoughts from her mind, and noting that she had an hour to herself, the Austrian woman entered a café she enjoyed frequenting.

It was one of the few places that she didn’t look out of place, as if she had been displaced in time. As always her bangs were parted to the left, framing her face, and the majority of her near-waist-length hair was held back by two braids meeting at the back of her head, held together by an ornate, silver and purple hair-clip. Her rectangular, wire framed glasses were perched upon her nose as always, making up for the sight that her violet eyes lacked. A high-collared, ankle-length dress of modest cut and flowing skirts (buoyed by a petticoat or three) was her usual attire, and today was no different. Though only the skirt could be seen, the dress was lilac in color, just a few shades lighter than her eyes.

Over the top of her torso, a fitted, short, double-breasted coat hid the rest of her dress from view, and was white with purple edging and silver buttons. Knee-high, lace up brown boots with a small heel, a lacy, white cravat tied about her throat, and lacy, white gloves completed the look. One hand held the handle of her violin case, while her opposite one gently tapped out a rhythm on the counter as she waited to be asked what she wished to order. If anyone knew music, they would have picked up the beat quickly, noting it to be Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The Fighter greeted the employee that took her order with a small smile, and politely requested a vanilla caffè latte, her accent soft and musical as always.

After waiting patiently to be served, Rosaline added a bit of sugar to her drink, and then turned to face the café at large, looking for a place to sit. In the end, the only semi-unoccupied table was claimed by a blonde in a hoodie, who appeared to be annoyed by something on her phone. Making her way over, the Austrian woman spoke politely, “Guten tag, ist zhis seat taken?” as she gently gestured to the free seat across from the blonde. Briefly, violet eyes ghosted over golden ears, but only for a moment; the brunette’s own ears were gently twitching in question.