Xaviers!

A black car, with Symkarian diplomatic plates, rolled up to the front gates of Xaviers University.

Out stepped a man in a long black...cape? Cloak? Something between the two. Wearing dark sunglasses and staring at the university with a disapproving frown as he began to make his way up the drive.

Someone steps out of the dorms and, upon noticing the man, turns into an equally serious be-suited woman. The pink hair and not-quite-aviators do detract a little bit, as does the near-pompous, overly British tone with which she talks when she opens her mouth.

"Ah, welcome welcome, my good sir. What happenstance brings such an esteemed and be-cloaked individual to our doorstep?"

"And you would be, what, the welcome wagon?" the man said, in a thick Eastern European accent.

"Looks that I am, today. And you, my good man, look important enough to meet with royalty." she jokes.

"I am, as ever, pleased to provide my services to the royal family, such as they are for now," the man confirmed with a nod. "You shall take me to the princess, then?"

"Certainly!" she says, spinning around as if to start walking but then just completing a full rotation with her leg out 90 degrees and setting it back down. "Oh but which one? There's the Fae Princess from beyond the Veil, of course. And Wanda the Princess of Nature, naturally. Not to forget the Princess of the Night or the Princess of Crows and Conflict. And I think Natalie recently joined Space-Royalty, though she might just be a Duchess or Countess of Crystal..." she starts rambling off made-up titles and positions.

"Spare us the buffoonery. I care not if this is a...a convent for the divinely gifted. I am seeking Her Highness Katarina Karkov, Princess of Symkaria, Golden Lady of the Land, Countess of Petrio, Duchess of Bolevina and Illichevo, Baroness of Pilava. The one true princess for whom you are caring at the moment."

"Ooh, you're talking about Miss Kat-kat!" she says despite the fact that nobody ever has or should call her that. "Though I rather like that. Convent for the Divinely Gifted. Very fetching!"

"Irregardless! I don't know where she is right now. Likely in class, I'd imagine. Capitalist Buffoonery 101 mayhaps."

As she's talking she's sending Katarina a text message.

hei
tpung blind here
dude with diplimatic plates out front
asking aobut u
this is robvin btq

"You will refer to Her Highness in appropriate terms, thank you please. She may choose to stay here while her country is in flames, and it is not my place to question these decisions, but she shall receive the proper respect she is due," he said, sticking his nose well up into the air.

Katarina's text message came back:

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...'tpung'?

At least the message popped into Robin's field of view through her stream thingie, even if she still had to respond by fumbling with her phone in her pocket. Stupid ancient technology.

typonf
rtpongf
typimg
mashing the bittons on mt phone to ma;e words appear
blindlt
anyway guy looks proper posh anmd all
want me to show im to youe room or somergingf
or tell gim to shove ogg

"Oh my deepest apologies, I did not realize that your word carries more weight than hers in determining what is or is not respectful, Mister..." Robin huffs and puffs with more obviously fake decorum. "But mayhaps if you elucidated on your identity and purpose I could pass a message along to Her Royalness."

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Can you confirm who he is?

"Her Highness," the man clarified. "And I am Jacques Ciseleur, master sculptor and documentarian of the history of our glorious nation, long may it reign."

"Eh..." she says, tilting her hand back and forth. "I'm focus-grouping Her Royalness, see if it takes off. Occasionally you have to float some new ideas to keep language alive and breathing." Her accent and pretentiousness slip a little as she's distracted by a more daunting task.

Jacqies xideleor
jacqie ciseleor
jack
jacqioes chiseleuex
fucking i don't know, anem mc nameson
master sculpor and stmkaerioan historian
he/s wearinf a cape

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Jacques was not supposed to arrive for 48 hours.

"Symkaria is a land of tradition," Jacques lectured. "We do not change something for the sake of change."

"Wow, rude. As is arriving early, I guess? I can show you some nice hotels in town id you'd like. Well, maybe. Doesn't matter, point is Her Royalness says she was expecting you two days from now." she says, pulling her phone out of her pocket and rudely looking at it rather than the person she's having a conversation with.

"I shall explain to Her Royaln....Her Highness, that when your country is on the brink of a civil war, regular flights are not always as accessible as one may like."

Robin can't help but grin at the near slip-up when she looks back up at Jacques, wiggling her eyebrows up and down a couple times.

"I'll let her know. And sorry to hear about Symkaria. That sucks."

I can bring him to the XUB if you want to make him wait or sumthing

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I am in class right now; he will have to wait -somewhere-

"Indeed? Well, we shall see who comes out on top in the end. I shall be there to record it all, in gold and marble."

"Seems a bit redundant to make a gold statue of her." Robin chuckles. "And she's in class right now, so if you want I can show you to the XUB, we got a cafe there."

"Well, the Princess can not stand everywhere at once, no? The people have a right to see their sovereign," Jacques said. "Even if she has chosen to hide halfway across the continent."

"It's called a joke. I assume you have those in Symkaria, yeah?" she winks, pulling her glasses down on her nose to do so. "Come on, I'll buy you a coffee, Mr. Ciseleur. I actually think it's pretty cool of you to come all this way for a statue. My Dad's way into sculpting. Kind of."

"Well, I would not have travelled this way for just an ordinary statue. I am here for my místrovské dílo. The pinnacle of my career. The most significant work I, or any other sculptor, shall ever produce."

"Ooh! That's exciting! A masterpiece for the ages! Now I feel a bit bad for making fun of you. Hey, do you work in clay? I could get a head-start on a Christmas present for my Dad..."

"Unless you are one of the other royal personages here at the university, I doubt you could afford my services. Nor do my works of art generally sit in dens next to televisions and lounge chairs."

"Ouch! Entirely fair, but ouch! I do think you'd find my Dad appreciates a good statue more than you assume though, seeing how he married one." she chuckles. "Besides, how often do you get the chance to work with living clay?" she says and collapses into a pink mass that rolls along before bouncing back up into a human shape without missing a step.

Jacques' stride broke for a moment at Robin's display. "That is a rušivý...er, an impressive performance, there. Perhaps we may be able to work something out, after all."

"Ah, see?" Robin grins. "My Mum absorbs and turns into stone and my Dad's made of clay that can turn into just about anything, so expressive shapes is kind of our thing. Not to take away from what you do. Takes a different kind of skill to work with less naturally mutable stuff, yeah?"

"And you? You are clay, or stone, or somewhere in between?"

"More clay than rock, I guess, but I think of it more as bubblegum. Versatile and invasive bubblegum." she says and places her hand on one of the streetlamps that flank the path through the grounds and her pink protoplasmic body swiftly dissolves into it, followed by the streetlamp bending down in an awkward bow. Then the actual lamp part of it dispenses a stream of pink protoplasm that reforms into Robin while the lamppost slowly rights itself. "Ta-dah!"

"Ahh," Jacques said, observing Robin's antics. "Well, that's alright, anyway. I tend to work in more...constructive materials. More permanent than, er, bubble gum."

"You clearly never tried to remove old bubblegum." she says and gives him the double finger-guns.

"Ice. Or a hair dryer, either or. Either way, the elements tend to take care of the problem. My work is typically only removed by explosives."

"Or a really big hammer. But yeah, I'm not much for permanence. It's nice and all, it's just not for me, ya know."

"Well, I imagine the Princess will be slightly more demanding, such as is necessary for such a public figure."

"She doesn't strike me as that demanding, but I guess I only know her as a student. And not all that well."

"Well, her duties bring with them a certain sense of...decorum, that may be lacking among others."

"Riight, right, gotta make sure the official statue meets expectations."

"Once again, she shall be referred to as Her Highness," Jacques emphasized again.

Robin laughs, then notices Jacques does not seem like the joking kind and she blinks.

"Wait what?"

"I am here to restore the face of Her Highness to as close to it's original state as I can. It is delicate, painstaking work, that must be done to exceptional levels of precision."

"Oh shhhhhugarplums! You're not sculpting her face, you're sculpting her face. Talk about responsibility! Woowee."