A young woman with short blonde hair walks in, stops, and looks around in surprise. She is wearing worn baggy trousers, a slightly stained linen shirt, boots, and a swordbelt from which hang a sword and a silver dagger.
"By the Lord of Hell's black hairy balls! Since when did Brin Toraedic have a room that looked like this(OOC: This Jill is from
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I'm going to hold you to that.
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Now say hello to the nice applicant lady you've been ignoring in favor of my scintillating conversation, why don't you?
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Men. No matter where you are, they don't change.
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Y'know, you seem remarkably comfortable with all this. Suddenly appearing in a strange castle, answering odd questions about cheese, talking to strange people.
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And it certainly sounds like you're someone who was meant to find her way to the wizarding world. This place pulls in people from all walks of life, and as best I can tell, the one common denominator among us is that none of us quite *fit* in the regular world, in one way or another.
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The man I was just talking to over there, I knew him long before I was brought here and found him already settled in. Another friend of both of ours just arrived recently. A whole family of talking cats arrived one after another, for another example. So I'd say it's more than possible.
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