Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo [Open to All Needing Things for the Ball!]

[Nova Harte]

Nova hummed happily as she walked into the entrance hall area, setting up a folding table she'd brought down with her. She set up some sketch pads, pencils, and a tape measure. She also had a little curtain she'd brought for people who might not be comfortable with her measuring them in the open, but she figured this was the easiest place for her to access everyone.

She had set up notices around and passed it around via word of mouth that she would be out here today to take measurements and requests for anyone needing a suit or dress for the ball. She knew there was a limited amount of time before the ball, maybe a week and a half, but she just saw that as a challenge! She thrived on tight deadlines, especially on passion projects and this had been a project she'd started in her 5th year. What she was capable of then and now were monumentally different, and she couldn't wait for what people would request.

She hummed happily to herself, sketching based on some ideas in her head while she waited to see if anyone came to see her.

[Owen Fairchild]

Owen had noticed Nova’s signs around the castle and heard the chatter about her taking measurements for the ball. He wasn’t exactly the type to obsess over outfits, but he figured he should at least make an effort. The Winter Solstice Ball only came around once a year, and showing up in his usual slightly wrinkled robes probably wouldn’t cut it. Besides, he’d seen Nova’s work before—she was talented, and if anyone could make him look halfway decent, it’d be her.

Stepping into the entrance hall, he spotted her right away, sitting at her neatly arranged table with sketch pads, pencils, and a measuring tape at the ready. She looked completely in her element, already lost in a sketch, her quill moving quickly across the page. Owen took a moment before approaching, noting the curtain she’d set up for privacy, as well as the excited energy she always seemed to carry when working on something she loved.

“Hey, Nova,” he greeted, a lopsided grin forming as he rocked back on his heels. “Figured I’d stop by and see if you could work your magic. I need something decent for the ball—nothing too flashy, but, y’know… good.” He huffed a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have no idea what I’m looking for, so I’m putting my trust in you. Got any ideas?”

[Nova Harte]

Nova was in the middle of doing some idle sketches, in her zone, whenever she heard a voice. She glanced up and grinned, "Heeeey, Owen!" she beamed, hopping off the stool she'd been sitting on, "You have come to the right gal, naturally," she put her hand on her chest, "Do you have a style in mind?" she picked up a few pages and set them on a table, "There's classic suits and robes," she indicated the drawings, "There's a little gothic flair, my speciality, but rarely others tastes," she giggled a little as she motioned to that drawing, "And then variations that are combinations, like a robe that looks like a mix of a robe and a suit jacket," she pointed to where she'd doodled it.

"I also take custom requests. If you can explain what it looks like, I can try and sketch it out, then we can go from there," she offered, then motioned to the swatches or fabrics she had, "That's when colors get involved," she laughed a little. She stepped back and looked at Owen, tapping her chin, "I think a classic tux will look really good on you," she nodded sagely, picturing it in her mind.

[Owen Fairchild]

Owen chuckled at Nova’s enthusiasm, watching as she hopped off her stool and laid out her designs. He leaned in slightly, scanning the sketches with interest. “You’ve really got this all figured out, huh?” he said, impressed but not surprised. He’d seen Nova throw herself into projects before—this was clearly something she loved. It gave him a warm and fuzzy feeling seeing her in her element.

His gaze drifted over the options, lingering for a moment on the gothic-inspired suit before shifting to the more classic styles. “I like the idea of something traditional, but I wouldn’t mind a little twist to make it interesting,” he mused, tapping a finger against his chin. “Maybe something like that robe-suit combo? It looks sharp but still a bit different.”

At her comment about the tux, he smirked. “You think so? I’ll take your word for it. What do you reckon—classic black, or should I shake things up with a colour?” He glanced at the fabric swatches, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what actually suits me, so I’m trusting you here, oh fashion expert.” His grin was teasing, but there was genuine trust in his voice.