!! FROM AN NPC MEME I CANNOT FIND FOR THE LIFE OF ME RIGHT NOW !!
“Now, you two are going to be just Darling, right? You promised.”“O’ Course, Miss Evie...”“Miss Evie, my sweater’s gone and gotten wet...”
A pause, as Evangeline twists and looks down at the complaining little dancer. They had been trailing along now for at least the last hour-- precisely how the girl managed to get her sleeve all soaked is beyond her--
“Well you shouldn’t’a been chewin at it.”“I can’t help it.”“It’s disgusting.”“Miss Evie, she called me DISGUSTING!”
Their quarrel is left for them to handle, with a couple kicks at the cement and huffs, while Evie bends down and takes the offending cardigan off her shoulders. Without even thinking, she takes off her own sweater, slips it over the little girl’s shoulders so she at least won’t catch cold, even if it is a bit large on her.
“Just... don’t chew the sleeves on that one, okay sweetheart?”“Okay, Miss Evie.”“See: Miss Evie thinks it’s disgusting, too.”
Evangeline’s eyes roll before she thoughtfully drapes the tiny sweater over her arm, and takes up a little girl’s hand in each of her own. “We’re going to be darling, remember, and that begins with you two stopping your bickering-- now, when we get to the door, what are you going to say?”
“‘M going to say: Hello! I’m Amanda.”“And I’ll say: I’m Elaine, and we are with Madame Bustamante’s Ballet Studio.”“And I’ll say: Ignore Elaine’s sweater, it’s a bit tacky.”
... that’s her sweater she’s calling tacky, but Evangeline allows it to pass as they further approach the front door.
“Don’t mention Elaine’s sweater, they won’t care, worry about yourself--”“Yea, ‘Manda, Worry ‘bout yourself.”
Evangeline is already knocking on the door, pretending not to notice as the taller of her two tutu’d shadows sticks out her tongue at the other. Nothing to see here, of course, just two tiny ballerinas dressed as they would be for a true performance-- Evie thought asking for donations from the neighborhood would go better if they could see the darlings they’d be helping, even if her darlings weren’t quite acting so darling at the moment-- and their teacher, now shivering in the wind since having surrendered her sweater.
When someone answers, however: both girls immediately choke up, forgetting their minimal lines and promptly tucking away to hide best they could behind their leader... Evangeline forces her smile wider, she should have known this would happen, and politely uses her hold to tug and force both girls to either side of her; “Good afternoon, we apologize for the bother-- we’re with Madame Bustamante’s Ballet Studio: are you the head of your household?”
Only then, with the sleeve of her too-large sweater caught between teeth, does one of the little dancers finally speak up: “I’m Elaine............”
