Finding a Face

All she wanted was to be able to fit in. Be able to see; not be so thin, and have the will to actually eat. Sibyla's wishes were far beyond her power, yet her power was the only way to get around without the help of her malamute, Skílla. Not knowing any English made the lovable furball her only friend. It was Sibyla's first day here at Beata, and she had done her besr to keep from conversation. The blind blonde held her dogs' leash firmly, not daring to let go. But even if she did, Skílla would stay with her.

The pair had been passing through the school grounds, and with Clairvoyance, she could feel a sort of radiation of life coming from what she pictured as a glass building; a greenhouse. Trying her best to go unnoticed, she slipped inside. The French girl felt the furry tail of her pet wag as Skílla saw people, but didn't pull her owner to them.

With the help of her dog, Sibyla had gotten to the place where she felt the radiation of joy, and the silver-blue eyes she called hers wondered back and fourth aimlessly, something that was hard to control by Sibyla. Walking around the area, she pictured beautiful plants; nature she continued to grow up with. Yet she wasn't paying attention when the side her dog didn't stay beside collided into something, sending her forward to the ground with a thump. "Pourquoi cela se produit á chaque fois?" She whimpered quietly, unaware that what she had knocked into was a person. Her accent was indeed a fluent French, coming from a France-native family.

The blonde had been there all morning, quietly keeping to herself and checking on the many different plants and flowers. She wasn't exactly sure where Brendan was, but the girl had the feeling that she couldn't be too far off. There had been some decent trouble following her lately, leaving her mind a bit clouded, but spending the day in the warm greenhouse seemed to be doing her good. In here, winter didn't exist, with it's constant spring - it was like an entirely different world and it brought it's fair share of escape and relief with it.

Brailynn picked a few fresh roses, hoping to make a bouquet out of them to brighten up her room. Maybe she should make a few for Morgan too. And Richard? Or, was that a step too far...? Or was it okay for the girl to give the guy flowers, and it only meant something when the guy gave them? Thank God no one was around to see the red on her cheeks.

It wasn't entirely this stranger's fault they'd bumped into each other, literally. Lynn was in her own little world, zoned out, and didn't see the new student walking. She, however, was much better on her feet and quickly recovered, spinning around to see the girl on the ground. "Oh, shi-" The words near escaped her mouth before she bit her lip, quickly kneeling down, throwing the flowers in one arm and offering to help with her free hand. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry - I didn't see you there -"

Like that, Sibyla's head snapped over to the voice, the words confusing in her mind. Her face was full of confusion and worry, feeling bad for knocking into the other student. Quickly following, Skílla was nudging her master's hand towards the other blonde. "O-oh, je suis sincèrement désolé." Her nervous tone was probably confusing the girl, and Siblya had gotten to her feet with the help of both the fluffy dog and the offered hand. She still had Skílla's leash too. Thank god, that would have been hard to find.

Yet she was still trying to comprehend the English words that were unfamiliar to her, and she bit her lip. "Qu'est ce que c'était? Je ne peux pas vous comprendre..." Another nervous sentence escaping her mouth. Wow, Sibyla needed to get herself together, but Skílla was all over the other person. That loving side of her dog couldn't be contained, but it was only a plus. But she was quickly gathering information about the student, and she constructed a mental image for herself. Sibyla could pick up the flowers' radiation, and it made her calm down slightly. Well, it wasn't a murder scene, that's good.

OOC:
Sentence one: O-oh, I'm sincerely sorry.
Sentence two: What was that? I can't understand you.

The Spring watched with slight confusion as the girl couldn't seem to find her way up off of the floor. Was there something wrong with her? Funny, she thought, as the small dog beside her seemed to be guiding the stranger's hand towards hers. 'French?' Brailynn thought in surprise, recognizing the language instantly. Oh, well wasn't that wonderful. Probably made this situation about ten times more awkward if she couldn't even understand her apology. Still, Lynn held the girl's hand firmly and helped her back onto her feet.

"Sorry." Lynn smiled uneasily, letting go of the girl's hand and shrugging. Wait, Fuck. "Erm - Dé...solé?" She tried to make a quick translation. Her mother knew the language fluently, she knew, but Brailynn herself had never really bothered to pick it up. 'Ne' was no, maybe? And 'comprendre' was comprehend? Maybe?  She sure as hell was no linguistic. "Parlez-vous un... anglais... or d'anglas? D' or no d'?" She struggled awkwardly, stumped. Her accent made the words sound very bland. She couldn't help but glance at the dog jumping at her legs. She smiled a bit more, wondering if she could pet the dog, or if the owner would call him off?

Sibyla could tell that the two spoke different languages, but she picked up from the girl's attempt at French that it was not totally unfamiliar. "Anglais? Non, je ne le font pas." She replied, a little more comfortable with the situation. But she finally realized her dog was all over the other girl, so she tugged at the leash softly, Skílla sitting down quickly, but the tail not ceasing it's wag. Thinking about what to do, she yet again had no clue about her darting eyes. But the idea of this 'English' spiked her curiosity. One more friendly look from her malamute was showing she was a gentle friend, but Sibyla didn't want a bad impression.

The blonde would've giggled at her attempt, but she didn't want to offend the stronger girl. Surprisingly, Sibyla looked alright for being anorexic, but her bones showed the lack of protiens and vitamins. But, Sibyla was just a mess, ever since her little brother died. But what she wanted to know about, was the girl before her... or beside her. All Sibyla could see was emptyness, and a mental image of the place. But because of her lack of seeing the correct view of the world, her images were usually distorted, but were correct to her. The secret goal for the Frenchie was to make a friend, not an enemy.

She let out a small sigh of disappointment in their lack of language, though the smile didn't come off of her face, not wanting to come off as rude or anything... if this girl even noticed. Lynn couldn't help but wonder, the way she had fallen to the floor and couldn't get up, or how she seemed to stare straight past her one moment and dart around the next at seemingly nothing. There was no way... but could she be blind too? Blind and French? What a combination, in a place like this, at least. The blonde was tempted to wave her hand right in front of the stranger's face to see if she'd notice, but decided against it in case she was wrong.

Brailynn glanced aside at the flowers she was carrying, thinking she should still get them water quickly. Taking a few cautious steps back, she went to grab a bucket a few feet away, trying to come up with something to say. She stuck her roses in the small bucket, already filled with a bit of water and picked it up, holding her hand up to the girl to shake. "Je m'appelle Brailynn." The young woman said with a friendly smile. This she remembered easily. It was like saying 'Jam' 'Apple' then your name, right? /bricked.

Sibyla honestly felt bad for her inability to see, as she could really never know what would be thrown at her. But now she had her focus was on the girl, whose name was Brailynn. The younger girl liked this name; but as she did, Sibyla eould have her be called Chantell, her middle name, until she knew that she was comfortable enough around her. "Chantell. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer." A small grin was painted on her face, and it was easier for her to navigate to Brailynn's hand with using her gift. Her nose still tingled with the lovely scent of a rose, daffodil, and many other beautiful flowers. "Je dois m'excuser si je me bizarre, étant aveugle me fait reculer, même avec clairvoyance que mon cadeau." Sibyla had decided to apologize in advance, before things got too awkward.

Sibyla knew she would have to get to know this 'English' language in order to properly communicate to the other students, but knew it would be pretty hard. It was hard for her to even see what was before her, yet she managed, because of her dog. Since the fluffy companion was still nearly dying for the chance to give the ither girl affection, she had gotten up and done what she had done before, have a crazy fast waging tail, and a cheerful friendly look, all while approaching slowly.

It was a bit difficult for Brailynn to distinguish the girl's name from the rest of her words, especially because - let's be honest here - Chantell sounded like a sort of wine, or a really fancy perfume. "Chantell?" The girl raised an eyebrow, not completely sure if she had caught that right or not. When she had gotten enough signs to be satisfied she wasn't wrong, the small grin appeared again on her face. This is where things would start getting kind of difficult for her, trying to carry on in this conversation with her small vocabulary. Still, she tried. "Joli nom."
After a couple moments of thought, she came to this translation: "I'm sorry I'm weird. I can't see behind me. Even with clairvoyance." That didn't sound... entirely right... What? Was her back some sort of weakness of hers? That couldn't be right. A bit curiously, not exactly sure what she was expecting, she got on the tips of her toes to see if there was anything around her.
"C'est bien." Lynn smiled and shrugged anyways. "...Vous n'av... n'avez - rien fait?" She frowned, a bit stumped on that one. "Je ... faisais - juste un bouquet." The girl finished strong with those last few words, and you could tell from the look on her face she was damn proud of herself for it.

ooc;;
"Nice name."
"It's okay."
"... You did... didn't - do anything?"
"I ... was - just making a bouquet."