[Mercedes Carello]

Early May, 845
Cadet Barracks; North of Trost, Wall Rose

Colorful paper lanterns strung on twine tried to corral the magenta and lavender -streaked sky; cadet chatter and friendly greetings from hawkers rose with steam and from street foods. A myriad of aromas from the latter -- vegetables, baked fruit, rare and sizzling offerings of meat -- mingled with the sweet and familiar smell of the hay bales dotted here and there for seating. A troubadour, back from a brief break, took a request from an Instructor and experimented with a few chords. Shadows lengthened across the packed earth, reaching for her.

Like everyone else who hadn't come to the barracks with someone they knew, Mercedes had spent most of the day keeping to herself. But now that evening was upon them and the celebrations begun, it seemed as though most people had started to form burgeoning friendships. This morning when she'd heard about the plans for today she'd initially decided that this was going to be her time to shine -- she was going to make a lot of friends, get to know as many people as possible, make her mark, fit in beautifully, not miss home and Julia at all...

It was a cruel joke that now that she was here, nerves had slammed into her full-force and stolen her voice, made her shoulders sink a little. Instead of being in the middle of the action, she'd slunk off to one side of the common grounds between the dorms, mess hall, and supply sheds, and taken refuge by a vendor selling good luck charms. She leaned against the back corner of the stall, tugged at the unfamiliar uniform jacket. In tugging on her sleeves her knuckle grazed the jeweled back of the jaguar bangle on her right wrist and the brief glance became a lingering one.

What if this wasn't the right decision? Granna really didn't want me to go... Maybe there was a reason? But why wouldn't she tell me, if so? But then, she reasoned, there hadn't exactly been a choice, as much as Julia would have liked to believe otherwise. Wall Maria had fallen, and Julia couldn't do anything about that. If Mercedes hadn't come here of her own accord they would have come and got her. Julia probably would've embarrassed herself -- tried to shoot someone or something... Mercedes smiled softly at the thought, and then it faded. She folded her arms.

As she looked out into the bright square of festivities she willed courage to come back from wherever it'd gone.

[Claude Larsen]

It was so beautiful. Like nothing she had ever seen before. The orphanage had never had much pretty things, and at home, well, they couldn't afford anything. With so many people around, Claude wondered what they were all like. Whether they wanted to be here. It wasn't just the cadets, it was instructors and soldiers too. And civilians, ordinary people, doing what they could to make their way in the world. Get some money, impress people, meet everyone. She wanted to buy something, even a little thing, but the orphanage hadn't given her anything. They didn't want her to be comfortable or to actually be a soldier. Being here... that was just to give money to the people who ran it. They'd get more kids, and do it again. The others she'd travelled with had said as much.

But they did better than her. She saw them, Alie - who was older than her, tougher than her, better than her - did so well at getting people to like her. Loitering around the stalls, laughing off comments from others, charming people. They didn't need to know that little Claude, that quiet thing, had comforted Alie when she'd first arrived in their crowded room, sobbing her heart out because she was alone. Now she was gaining new friends, finding her own way, and leaving all that horrid stuff behind.

Claude felt so very, very alone.

The uniform felt big on her, even though it had been practically tailored for her size, and it felt horribly stiff. She meant to stand up straight, but instead she slouched against a wall and watched Alie. Jealousy melting green more vivid in her eyes than ever. It was unfair. A tear sprang from her duct, and she wiped it away quickly with a hand, shuddering at the thought of crying even here. People were around, she wouldn't be so weak around them. That would make everything worse. She craved freedom, wanted to jump on top of the stalls and stay up there, cradled in materials softer than any bed she'd slept in, but that was stupid.

Another tear came, and then another, and then she held her face in her hands.

[Mercedes Carello]

Mercedes turned rapidly around the back of the stall and paced as she took a couple of deep, calming breaths in through her nose and out of her mouth.

"Come on, you've got this," she hissed to herself. She even lightly slapped her cheeks a few times, rolled her shoulders.

This should be easy. She'd practiced making friends in her head so many times throughout her life. She'd watched other people so closely whenever she got the chance. And besides, if they didn't like her it didn't matter. Right?

Right. So go do it!

Mercedes straightened and turned back toward the light as quickly as she'd turned away from it. She adopted a small smirk to help soften what she thought was her intimidating face, and strolled out. Maybe she'd buy something just to have something to do with her hands. And that'd be a good conversation starter. She re-scanned the area quickly. Food was probably a good idea. Julia had agreed that she could take a portion of her saved allowance money with her ("Just in case."), so she could indulge a little just this once.

She began to stalk the ring of vendors slowly, but didn't get very far -- a shadow disappearing down between the stalls much in the way she herself had done. Curiosity drew her after it.

Leaning against a wall partly out of sight from everyone was another cadet, smaller than her -- possibly even moreso than Julia -- with her face in her hands curtained by dark hair. At first Mercedes thought maybe she'd been hit in the face by something then reasoned she wasn't moving -- or sounding -- like that was the case.

She slipped into the shadow with her. "Hey, you all right?" she asked, forcing gentleness into her voice. Julia had rarely been gentle with her so Mercedes had to operate on theory and vague memories of her parents. She hoped the tone didn't sound as clunky on her as she felt it did.