Rose does not have much experience with makeup. Her mind shies away from reasons. Something about... meditation. Or travel. Or just... it slips through her fingers like fog, and it doesn’t feel good when she tries to touch it. So she exists in the now instead. In the now, where her skin feels soft and smooth and made to be touched, gleaming like a river lit only by shardlight. In the now, where her hair falls to her shoulders, transformed from thick and vine-like braids to mossy, sweet-smelling curls, glossy green-black bangs falling loose about her face, which is... small. Dainty. Pretty, in a way which makes her chest tighten and her heart race.

Her lips are so full, so golden! They make her look like a [i]treasure.[/i] The dusting of gold on her lashes, traced around those golden eyes, rings gleaming at her lobes and (so small!) at her nose, they make her shine, put her skin into contrast, and oh, Chen will be so happy when she sees her, won’t she?

(Deep within, the nameless thing worries whether she will. It feels joy and nervousness alike; these wrists cannot hold a sword, and she was beloved because of her power and strength... wasn’t she? Would her new friends prefer her like this, a fluttering damsel in need of their help, more than the smirking, powerful warrior?)

(...would [i]she[/i] prefer to be this, to lose herself in Rose, innocent and beautiful, to wish the candle never blown out? The coils scrape against themselves as she realizes she does not know. Maybe it [i]would[/i] be better for the monster to sleep soundly, never to wake while Rose hangs on her girlfriend’s arm, in desperate need of both protection and adoration, able to express her love unburdened of the knowledge of the Way and the responsibilities of strength.)

Rose stands, nearly unbalancing herself, putting out one soft and useless hand to steady herself. Then she turns and flings herself into Thain’s arms, and her tears threaten to undo much hard work.

“I look [i]beautiful,[/i]” Rose expresses about herself, in echo with something deep within. “Thank you, thank you, [i]thank you![/i]” Oh, no. It is real. The cosmetics of the Castle in the Sky struggle to hold against Rose’s happy tears, running down her cheeks no matter how she tries to stop them, getting her more and more flustered as she waves one hand to try to dry them. “I just... I never [i]learned,[/i] and Chen didn’t complain, but... oh, you will let me show her, won’t you? Please?”

Then she looks down at herself, and squeaks, just like her best friend, who... who... who looks after her? Yes. That’s why Yue, the brave knight, is associated with [i]protection[/i] and [i]haplessness.[/i] How many scrapes Yue got poor, useless Rose out of! How much Rose looks up to such a gallant country swordswoman! And the precise source of the squeak is forgotten. But she squeaks, and tries to cover herself up, very much aware that silly, useless girls like her are supposed to be [i]embarrassed[/i] and [i]flustered[/i] when other people see their bodies on display. Not that they really do anything about it other than getting even more useless and wound up and trying haplessly to hide themselves from everyone’s stares!

(Deep within, the nameless thing flinches in embarrassment and promises to apologize to Yue one day for... certain assumptions about her, and girls like her.)

“N-not like this,” Rose stammers. Her hair flops in her face, and she contorts herself trying to brush it out of the way while not exposing herself, which leads to her failing at both counts. “You can’t, I mean, my dress, I...” Squeak! Squeak squeak goshies! She stumbles back into the hands of giggling handmaidens, who— with soothing compliments and helping her hold her hands behind her back like a [i]good girl[/i]— sit her back down to fix her makeup before anything else happens. Oh, don’t worry, little Rose, we’ll [i]probably[/i] get you dressed before we show your lucky girlfriend, and if we have to change your collar to complete the look we’ll be sure to keep your old keepsake safe—

And though she doesn’t know why, Rose is helplessly smiling as she blushes furiously and squirms in their hands, even as she holds hers behind her back where they’re just as useless as the rest of her, her heart racing like a champion horse, making feeble complaints and feeling [i]everybody’s[/i] eyes on her in ways that... that, um, monks don’t get, what an odd thought that is. Of course she’s not a monk, she’s a priestess— and, more importantly, a [i]captive.[/i] How thrilling, knowing that at the end of all this fun, Chen will come save her and pull her into a— [i]meep!!![/i] Gosh gosh [i]goshies![/i]