samson
@einjelique
Ingrid’s room was perfect for dance training. It had a large window her kiwi phone could send moving images to, and a full length mirror to boot; with that and Elincia’s help Ingrid was slowly but surely becoming more confident she could perhaps make it through one performance.
But there was only so much training one could do, and as the people running the show had told Ingrid the one time she had gone jogging to not do that again she found herself growing increasingly restless.
Thinking she might at least find a book to read, Ingrid makes her way out to the common area. She finds Nanna sitting in the spot she usually used for her own leisure, but it’s a pleasant sight nonetheless.
“How have you been?” Ingrid says, straightening her outfit and sitting down in the chair across from Nanna. She sees on the table full of magazines there are some tea pastries and candies and her stomach growls despite itself.
“I, er, just got out of training,” Ingrids explains and stuffs a small cake in her mouth before she can make herself more the fool. Chewing slowly, she looks over Nanna and has a thought. Taking out her kiwi phone to place on the table she asks,
“Say, la - Nanna, how do you decide where to place the clips in your hair? I, um, I’m not very good at it yet but I have been looking at pingtourist that Delancey put on my phone and thinking that perhaps my current hairstyle would not be best for the type of dancing we do.”