[Manuela is in high spirits or at least high in energy to kick off this week. She can be found after breakfast in the garden, walking back and forth along the path, crop laddering up and down in the air at her side. She's speaking to herself, saying a line of normal words and then another line of short, punctuated syllables. Though they're toneless, a familiar ear might recognize them as solfeggio, just spoken in monotone.]
... No, I think I need to redo that line... [She spies: one intruder.] Oh, perfect! I've been going a little stir-crazy trying to figure this out on my own.
[She's very quick to rush over and grab any interloper by the hand, drawing them in only long enough for her hand to settle around their waist instead.]
That's better. Say, how are you with following directions?
---
[Later, a much quieter Divine Songstres is... sulking in one of the castle's many comfortable lounges. One might mistake her for ill, either naturally or of her own making, but that simply isn't the case.
Anyone who catches her eye runs the risk of being beckoned over by the sharp, short quirk of two of her fingers before she pat-pat-pats the couch next to her. Pat-pat-pat...pat-pat...
Anyone who doesn't answer this invitation will be physically fetched and brought over to sit next to her, Manuela wound delicately around their arm. Unless someone completely resists...but who could say no to that face?]
no subject
... No, I think I need to redo that line... [She spies: one intruder.] Oh, perfect! I've been going a little stir-crazy trying to figure this out on my own.
[She's very quick to rush over and grab any interloper by the hand, drawing them in only long enough for her hand to settle around their waist instead.]
That's better. Say, how are you with following directions?
---
[Later, a much quieter Divine Songstres is... sulking in one of the castle's many comfortable lounges. One might mistake her for ill, either naturally or of her own making, but that simply isn't the case.
Anyone who catches her eye runs the risk of being beckoned over by the sharp, short quirk of two of her fingers before she pat-pat-pats the couch next to her. Pat-pat-pat...pat-pat...
Anyone who doesn't answer this invitation will be physically fetched and brought over to sit next to her, Manuela wound delicately around their arm. Unless someone completely resists...but who could say no to that face?]