April
◆ "Fuck."

□ A hand stood stiff atop the left breast pocket of her camo jacket, a patch-festooned affair that always stunk of strong tea and tobacco. Tapping against the half-open zipper, she grumbled furiously yet silently. How had she forgotten her phone back at her dorm room? Had it slipped out of her pocket on the way out? Possible. A hole existed in the left seat pocket, but she wasn't entirely certain if it was quite large enough for her phone to slip through. Whatever the case, she was effectively off the grid and detached from the distant world, and this meant she could – for once, at least – simply window shop without the steady soft buzzing of her phone keeping her attention from ever solidifying on one solid thing.

▪︎ And just as luck would have it, she spotted a familiar face – or, rather, head of hair.

□ Pushing off from a light pole, a flick could be heard before a wispy cloud of smoke surrounded her head. Forever a willing participant in her own self-destruction she sauntered down the sidewalk, only shooting a cursory glance each way before strolling across the street like a locomotive, with one hand awkwardly in her back pocket and the other holding her cigarette lightly. Across the street she took note of the store's name – *Huh. Haven't seen this place before.* – and lingered outside a couple of minutes, reading out of a pocket Bible produced from her right inner pocket and blowing out tufts of smoke. Once finished she slipped the Bible back into her coat, popped a Chupa Chups into her mouth, and strolled in.

▪︎ A few moments later, she found her. A girl she'd spoken to through the Intranet chatrooms yet rarely seen in the flesh.

◆ "Esmeee." Margo coolly announced her presence, slinking up and leaning herself against a jewelry case or something of the sort. "What's up? Hope you don't mind me kinda tailin' you in here. Forgot my goddamn phone at the Cradle so it's just me and my thoughts, and man..." A restrained chuckle followed, filling in the awkward space. "I'd rather take my chances with you thinking I'm fuckin' weird. Kidding, mostly; silence is bliss. Anyways. What's up? Little bit of late shopping?"
Robert
A quick upward glance turned Esmeralda's confusion into a grin. Underneath trying to place a name to the face, she was, at least, reassured by the mention of the Cradle. Margo? Margarita? The two girls had such similar names, and Esme only ever saw either in passing — though, she did think she had a class with Margarita over the summer, maybe a Spanish class. (Her mother would be severely disappointed if she lost her mother tongue while at the Cradle).

"Ah! Hello! Have you, ah — lost your phone, then? Do you need any help looking for it?" 

Esme took half a moment to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, the white, long fleece of her coats wrists somewhat brushing up against her nose. Her long overcoat hung about to her knees, cream coloured over a comfortable set of dark, thick tights and a white turtleneck, black ankle boots putting her two inches taller than usual. She, thankfully, kept her phone in a little clutch, a small silvery one of her mothers, that she currently carried in one hand. 

"Yes, though! My brother's birthday is in, oh, about a month, and I assumed packaging fare is *Dreadful* This time of the year, particularly if one is going from Scandinavia to New York — so I'm perusing a new watch for him. What about you? You've mentioned your phone. If you need any help with it, I am here to help!" 

She may not know Margos name (sort of), but, Esme knew that Cradle students needed to, well, stick together, at times (though many of them did not). To her, it made perfect sense. If she hadn't had Valio, she supposed she'd still be a rock.
April
◆ "Nah, not lost. Just slipped outta my back pocket, I fear." Margo casually spoke, pressing and creasing her hands into the stiff corners of the display case behind her. "These cargo pants ain't exactly in the best of shape, but they're comfortable, so... I take my chances. Sometimes my phone falls out; ain't been too lost yet."

□ Bouncing her left leg slightly as she spoke, she clacked her lollipop around the inside of her mouth and watched as Esme simply *Moved.* The rise and fall of her coat's wrists along her arms, the curl behind her ear, the simple yet elegant way she seemed to hold herself. Spoken for as she might have been, she couldn't help herself from a spot of people watching, and Esme turned out to be a good person to watch. Once Esme piped up about her brother's upcoming birthday – and the ensuing worries about shipping – she let out a throaty utterance.

◆ "Apparently it's not quite so bad from New York to Sweden. Least, that's what my mom was saying when she shipped over my guitar." She calmly spoke, the pearl stick of her lollipop bouncing up and down like a conductor's wand. "But, like ya said... Holidays. Probably busy as hell right now, even though Christmas is in the rear view mirror. Anyways... Fuck it, I'll help. Been told I have a decent eye for detail; I'd hope so, given my wack ass eye." She chuckled. "What's he usually like in his jewelry design-wise? Any particular functions he likes? Or is he... Y'know, simple when it comes to that shit?"
Robert
"He's particularly fond of Rolex, though, my father often tells him it looks tacky," Hummed Esme, her index finger tapping her cheek somewhat absent-mindedly. "Ah! Holzkern, he mentioned once. Alejandro has always preferred the sort of, ah — shall we call it, walnut wood *Chic*." 

She smiled around a myrrhic expression, gesturing to the glass case in front of them. "I've informed Miss Maja — see, her, behind the counter? — that I will be looking today. But, really, its no trouble at all of you need a moment to look for your things. If not, I'll happily accept any help!" 

Esmeralda's voice carried off into a light hum of something filtering through a speaker from above as her gaze flitted to the watches. She suddenly straightened up, a sense of purpose in her spine.

"I apologize — I've been talking so much. How are you? How are your holidays?"
April
◆ "Your father's blind, sounds like." Margo scoffed lightly, also lightly tugging her left sleeve down to unveil that, yes, she was wearing her own fancy watch oht. "I've had this Rolex a few years, and...? Shit's amazing. Keeps time tighter than anything I've known. Now, Patek...? *Those* Are tacky watches."

□ It might've been weird for the attendant, this one Miss Maja, to hear a girl who five seconds ago likely looked like a spry street urchin simply trying to spit some sort of game dismiss Patek watches while displaying her own Rolex. It was just part of her charm, an awareness that she looked broke yet was richer than most people she passed on the street. "Gotcha." She nodded, mulling the name over; "Holzkern...? Never heard of it. Then again I'm not super plugged into the world of watches, I just know the basic brands and that I'm probably going to die with my Rolex on my wrist." She continued, making light work of conversing with Esme. "But if he likes walnut chic, then... Hm. I'll keep that in mind."

▪︎ She took a glance around, checking out the various watches, taking note of what the other gal was saying.

◆ "I've been busy. Working towards my GED so I can finally get out of the Cradle, balancing that with an actual job in town... Taking care of my reptiles. Also been university shopping; MIT's catching my eye, but fuck man, I kinda don't want to go back to America if I can help it." Her voice wavered towards the end, from casual and collected to slightly apprehensive. "Holidays were fine though. Spent them with Vi in myself and Uri's room... She got me a promise ring, actually. Really touching. How've you been since the whole, y'know... Being crystallized thing? You been okay, man?"
Robert
"A promise ring!" Esme squealed. She jumped up, clapping her hands together in glee. Her boots danced from foot to foot, nearly giddy at the idea of her friend (loosely phrased, but a friend nonetheless) getting a promise ring from her girlfriend. "I'm so happy for you! That's wonderful, Marg!"

She might not have known if her name was Margo or Margarita, but, at least, Marg started both of those names. 

Esme settled at the mention, though, of going home. Her goal since she'd arrived at NC had been just that - and she and Marg were both from New York, if she remembered correctly. She nodded in something like understanding. 

"If you'd rather not," She said, "Why not go somewhere else? All the world's a stage, my friend! And you will surely fit well into whatever part you choose."
The smile she offered Margo was genuine - she nodded to affirm it. 
"Besides. There are many good and well schools outside America - I'd love to go to university over in Spain. My mother is from Mexico, but, Spanish is not much different there, you know."

She peered into the particular case, growing quieter, still, at the mention of the *Whole being crystallized thing*. Her face dropped, her indicative smile faltering into a slightly agape stare. She pulled in a deep breath through her nose, her shoulders tensing up around her neck.

Esme was *Fine.* 

The itching creeping up her skin, the nights she woke up and couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything. The way she couldn't breathe when her closet door shut behind her a few days ago. How she always kept the door cracked to her room - just in case. Just in case it couldn't open again. Just in case she was trapped in there. She often gave up on sleeping in her own room, and crept down to Val's, curling up against her gentle giant of a girlfriend, just so the thoughts would settle down inside her skull. She scrubbed at her skin constantly - just in case the gems were coming back

Esmeralda Baltimore was, most assuredly, fine.

And, that was all that mattered, wasn't it? She steeled herself in front of Margo, nodding.

"I'm doing well," She reassured her. "It's been-... I'm well. Valio's help allowed me to work through most of it."

*You're faltering,* Her mother's voice whispered to her. *Straighten up. Do not let them see you sweat. Or cry.*

Her face still hurt to stretch, her limbs still ached if she put them in the same position that they had been frozen in. Sometimes, if she didn't stand up correctly, everything went numb, and she had to lay down until it passed. 

*Esme was fine.*
April
◆ "Yeah." Margo sighed happily. "Lucky me, man. I'm... Fuck, I still dunno how I managed to get her to fall for me." She continued. "But I did, and... I'm pretty goddamn content. She's a little weird, I'm a lotta weird... Shit balances out."

□ Aware that she was talking to another spoken-for lass, Margo felt it fine to gab a touch about Vi. How had she lived without knowing the awkward yet genuine love of her girlfriend? She knew the answer: miserably. But, she didn't dwell on it for long. Not because she forced her mind off of the topic, but instead because Esme kept on chattering. She reached into a nearby case and absent-mindedly pulled out an Omega watch with a suitably *Walnut chic* Brown strap. "Yeah, I'm aware. Spanish is Spanish, kinda like how the Portuguese spoken in Brazil is intelligible by european Portuguese speakers. Hasn't been separated from the main language long enough to be its own thing, y'know?"

▪︎ She couldn't help herself from gabbing a touch about languages. The tough part, it turned out, was exercising restraint and not completely gabbing Esme's ear off for two hours about how the different native languages of Mexico survived colonization or whatnot. She had a habit of rambling.

◆ "No need to hide it." Margo idly spoke, running her thumb along the strap of the watch she'd picked up in a circular motion. "I get the idea from how you're talkin' that you're not exactly well. But, we don't gotta talk about it i it's still tender. Sorry, man." She continued, her voice a touch softer and a touch hesitant. Apologies were always a little tough. "Anyways... Look at this bad boy. It's an Omega, and I think the strap might be up your brother's alley. Looks very, well... Walnut chic."

▪︎ A chuckle followed as she held the watch towards Esme. On towards slightly brighter topics, hopefully.
Robert
"Oh! How lovely. May I?"

She took the watch gently from Margos hands, holding it up to the light, turning it over, and over, the uneasy sensation just under her skin settling into her bones as she took deep breaths — not too deep, don't sigh, Esmeralda — and she gave Margo a little smile.

"It is lovely. It is my best option so far, I believe."

The second part of her words seemed to register, and, minutely, her grip on the watch tightened, just only able to be noticed if Margo was paying close attention. (The concern, really, was very valid, but Esmeralda was nothing if not put together, particularly in public) .

"You're very kind, Margo. I do think we share a lot in common – Valio, she's quite wonderful. I'm incredibly lucky to have her. She's done so much for me in just a few months-... I don't believe I could have done it without her."

When in doubt, she thought, show gratitude. It made someone appear more humble, her brother had mentioned once. Humility. Little gestures of it went a long way – as far as she could tell.
April
◆ "Yeah."

□ Plainly spoke, Margo turned her attention back to the glass case she'd unceremoniously leaned her backside against a few minutes prior. Christmas in the rear view mirror, she now turned her sight to the future, and particularly towards Vi's birthday. It was in two short months; *Barely any time,* Her mom had quipped over the phone a few nights prior when the subject came up. Intently looking into the display case she began to wrack her brain for ideas on what to get Vi. As she looked in she also nodded at what Esme was saying, showing that she hadn't fully tuned out her acquaintance while trying to decide what sort of beautiful jewelry or what sort of watch to get Vi.

▪︎ She had two months, sure, but her mom's words echoed in the back of her head. She felt she needed to sort it out soon.

◆ "A real gentle giant of a person, huh? How'd you two even meet?" Aware that it might not have been the *Best* Option to dump two questions in Esme's lap at the same time, she held to hope that she wouldn't find it rude. Old instincts honed on talking to fabulously rich kids at fabulously rich parties were starting to come back just a little. "But I know the feeling. I've been embroiled in a court case against my father, and... It's not been easy. Think I'd be a full-blown alcoholic if it wasn't for Vi. It's way too easy to just get lost in a bottle of gin these days..." Her voice trailed off, lips curling down into a frown. "But I doubt you need to hear that. I think we're both better off because of our partners; maybe you're right about us having a lot in common."
Robert
"To be honest, I flirted with her over the boards," Esme confessed, a little smile pulling on her cheeks. "She was–.... She was just so kind. And I've always loved someone who helps me feel safe, you know. It's something she's quite ample at — one night, I believe it was the angels causing a ruckus, she came and stayed with me in my room until I calmed down. I'll never forget her kindness, just as much as I'll never forget how she makes me feel." 

Esmes voice had grown soft, sweet, fluffy at the edges like cotton candy. Her eyes didn't quite meet Margos, but drifted off to the side, as if she were picturing her darling girlfriend in her mind. She smiled, clasping her hands back together in front of her with a little clap.

"She's wonderful. I scarcely have known someone with such an ease about them. She's so careful, with everything. Once, when we were on a stroll, a birds nest fell from a tree. She picked it up, and cooed over the little ones, even putting the nest right back where it'd fallen from, with more grace than I'd have believed. I'm lucky, you know. Terribly, terribly lucky. I only hope that she will wait for me — I'm not sure how much longer I will be at the Cradle, but I'd love to take her to America. I'll show her the world, if she asks. But Times Square is something dear to me – I'd love for her to see it, you know?"

She paused, coming to an understanding that she had been prattling on for some time. She straightened her back, and dropped her hands to her sides. 

"Forgive me, then. I do not mean to neglect your thoughts — Vi seems wonderful! I've only spoken to her a handful of times, though. Is it true she really does like Taylor Swift that much?"
April
◆ "Over the boards? Slanderous." Margo quipped with a jokey lilt. "But I'm no better. Keep on."

□ Interjecting Esme's speech in a distinctly autistic manner, she let her piece be known then fell quiet, nodding along occasionally and clacking her lollipop against the inside of her teeth. Everything she heard was rather heartwarming, a real love story, and soon enough she found herself thinking back onto her time knowing Vi. That, and she looked up at Esme from where she had knelt down to get a better look into a jewelry case across the aisle from the watches, her eyes utterly mismatched yet intriguing.

▪︎ Then she had her moment to speak.

◆ "I getcha. I grew up in Brooklyn, actually... Saw Times Square a good few times. It totally overwhelms the senses... Humans aren't meant for places like that." She calmly spoke, almost like a scarred elder warning the youth against tussling with forces outside of their comprehension. "But I'm sure you'll bring her there eventually. The will's there, at least, and willpower is *Important.*" She continued, speaking with the odd clacking of a lollipop interspersed within. 

◆ "Also yes, Vi is *Obsessed* With Taylor Swift. I bought her all of her albums on limited edition vinyls for Christmas, actually, and half of them were signed copies. Pretty penny, but it was worth watching her squeal in joy when she opened it up." Margo fondly spoke, looking back on that recent morning with fondness and warmth. "Gotta admit though, sometimes I feel like she loves her more than she loves me, man. Can't blame her... Tall blonde women do it to me too. I'd let Taylor Swift call me a slur." She chuckled. "But Vi is honestly wonderful. She's a little awkward, but in the cutest way I've seen, and she's just so... Calming. Peaceful. I've fallen asleep in her arms more than I'd like to admit... Also the way she dresses. It's all kinda... This is gonna sound weird, but usually she dresses pretty modestly, and I adore that about her. Like, yeah, she looks like a grandma, but she's *My* Goofy li'l grandma, y'know?"

▪︎ What the fuck, Margo.
Robert
—YAHOO I AM REPLYING 2 THIS TODAY

Esme smiled, smoothing down a stray curl as she listened to Margo speak, nodding her head deftly at all the right moments, making sure to keep an appropriate amount of eye contact, not fidgeting with anything too obviously as to divert Margo's attention - all the little mannerisms she had been taught were Good Manners by her mother, the invisible hand that settled on her back to straighten her spine and settle her shoulders below her ears.

"Willpower, yes - my brothers, you know, they're often working with my father at home. Learning how to settle balances, sell properties, make deals, all of the like. They often speak of willpower as if it's a great treasure to behold and garner, to add to one's experiences of life," Said Esme, her voice gentle, but almost melancholy, reminiscing on her family. "I miss them, as troublesome as we all were as children. Once, Joseph - he is my second brother, after Alejandro - he once carted me down the hill of the summer estate on one of our chef, Jacques, pastry cart. I fell out, and tumbled all the way through the grass. I became absolutely filthy, and my mother was furious - but goodness, I had such a wonderful time."

The talk of willpower had rambled off into talks about family, and Esme caught herself, her face dusting a slight pink. She was particularly prone to it, today, it seemed - long rambles about the people she loved. She settled back down into her shoes, pressing her lips together.

"I apologize, again - all the talk about my brother's birthday has made me a bit prone to rambling, I believe. And, well, with Valio leaving soon - I suppose you may say I am a bit unwell."

She tucked her hair behind her ears again.

"Vi sounds lovely," She began, again. "Taylor Swift is not particularly my cup of tea, though, I do not dislike her work. I met Lana del Rey, once, and she's lovely. I can't wait for her new music - I have all her albums on vinyl!"
April
◆ "Christ, they sound boring." Was all Margo initially uttered once Esme finished her story about her brothers. Then, realizing how mean the comment was due to come across, she looked up at Esme with an expression cut between regret and focus. "Sorry. Just... Spoke without thinking. Yeah. My bad." She continued, her eyes fixed on a pretty ring in the cabinet in front of her. "Anyways... That sounds like it was fun. Those serving carts are surprisingly robust; God knows I pulled a couple wrestling moves on my siblings from the top rack of one of those carts, much to Jean-Pierre's displeasure..."

□ Rising to her feet, she could be heard sucking on the lollipop stuffed into her cheek, the stick dancing in mid-air as she did so. All this talk of home had her thoughts occupied, what with all the stories she made and all the traumas she endured at the family home, and though the latter caused her chest to ache in a familiar yet unpleasant the former was nothing short of a treat. 

★ "Actually, I have a fun story about riding pastry carts." She continued after a couple moments of thought. "Myself and Ben once rode one of them all the way to the local bodega for shits and giggles. We... Took turns pushing, and when we finally got there some crackhead offered to wire up a motor to that shit so we could ride back. I don't doubt the guy could've done that – crackheads are superhuman, I say – but fuck, man, I was eight. Ben was six. Shit was kinda weird. We just ended up ignoring him, which was fine until we walked out and the fuckin' guy was running away with the cart under his arm. We..."

▪︎ **"We got quite the beating."** Her thoughts intruded. She gulped and tried her best to seem stable.

◆ "Anyways, no worries, man. It's nice to talk about home... Keeps us from becoming totally uprooted and uncertain. Family's all we got usually and all that shit." Margo hummed, turning around to look into a case full of rings. "But yeah, you were saying that in the chat a while ago. How'd you even meet her again?"
Robert
Esme blinked, once, twice, listening to Margo's initial review. She didn't take it to heart - *You can't take criticism to heart, Esmeralda* - but it did surprise her, just a bit. The more people she'd met, though, the more who were outside her worldview, it did startle up her view of things. She liked to consider it a good thing. Valio, though, the biggest joy, was also the biggest enigma. Esme realized at once she hardly knew much of her darling's backstory.

*Perhaps it is better that way.*

"I miss pastries," She hummed, somewhat absent-mindedly, listening to Margo's whimsical childhood tale. "I never went to many bodegas, except once, with Alejandro."

"Oh! Lana, yes. Well - my mother asked her to sing at a charity gala, once," Said Esme, "And she ate dinner with my mother and I afterwards. She's very kind in person as well - though, I do recall she doesn't like, ah, what is it? Strawberry desserts, I believe it was."

*You do not know many things, about many people. Do you live in ignorance, or bliss?*

Esme swallowed the thought as she glanced down at the cases of rings Margo perused. "My brother's fiance has one akin to that one - the opal and rose gold one, on the back row."
April
◆ "Honestly kinda missing out." Margo casually spoke, beckoning one of the workers over with the experienced wave of her hand before pointing at a gold ring with a pretty sapphire in the middle. "I dunno if just got lucky with it because he was absent a lot of the time or what, but I kinda grew up in bodegas despite Hiram calling them gutter sludge joints and all sorts of racist shit. It's the reason why I've got a functional understanding of Spanish even though I've never studied it." She continued, rising to her feet and gently pinching the ring between her fingers. "But, yeah, food's really good from bodegas. It's those places and food trucks that are king back in New York, I'd argue. Shit's so good. The people watching is to die for too. Never know who or what you'll see in one of those."

□ A ring in her fingers, she gently inspected it for any signs of shoddy work – poorly buffed metal, messy etchings, the signs of a fake sapphire. The works. As she did this she leaned her hip against the counter and occasionally looked up at Esme, who was recounting how exactly she'd met Lana Del Rey. It wasn't lost on her how extraordinary the pair must have looked, lingering around jewelry cases talking about the charms of NYC and famous people they'd met, while looking like they came from very different socio-economic classes.

▪︎ Really, Margo thrived when her outwardly militant outfit was juxtaposed against the staggering wealth she'd come from. It was just another of her odd mental quirks.

◆ "Huh. That's one way to meet a famous singer, I guess." She spoke, turning the ring over in her fingers before handing it back and pointing to the one that Esme had commented on. "Neat. I wish I had a story to swap, but... All the notable musicians I've met are just New York jazz people. Session musicians. Cats who only really come in when dinner's served. I did get to meet two of the guys who played on Bowie's last record when I was younger though, so... I guess that counts. Anyways, it's a nice ring you pointed out. Real nice. I'm just... Trying to match it with Vi color-wise, though, and I dunno if the opal would fit in with her whole vibe. Keeping it in mind though."
Robert
"Opal is very lovely, but simple, when paired well," Remarked Esme, somewhat unaffected. "Although, perhaps a softer blue would do better? A sapphire, or some sort of aquamarine type?" 

She rocked back on her heels, listening to Margo talk about jazz and bodegas. Many people made her feel like an alien, visiting earth for the first time. She swallowed something in her throat. 

"I do think that would count, though. Bowie was a musical legend, if you ask me. I always liked his style."

And there! A smile. She tilted her head just a bit at the thought, her mood lifting a little more. 

"When I leave Sweden, I want to go to a concert. I'm not quite sure who, but, I do miss live music."
April
◆ "Yeah, I was looking for a sapphire ring. Felt it'd fit decently with her left eye. Kinda funny how our eyes are fucked on different sides, actually." Margo commented with the hesitancy and tone of someone who'd just realized something very obvious and felt like the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. "Like. Her piece of shit ex-boy – God as my witness, I *Will* Fuck him up if I ever see him for what he did to her – burnt her ass pretty bad. Her right eye's basically dead. My left eye's super weird too. We're... Matching, I guess."

□ Handing the ring back to the worker behind the counter, she continued to peruse the rings with an attentive, thoughtful gaze. Vi's left eye was dark blue, so a sapphire could have worked. But what if she matched with her right eye? The pair had mismatched mangled eyes. It was a perfect opportunity, she figured, to really blow Vi away and solidify how alike they were in the ways that mattered.

□ She kept on looking as Esme spoke. Bowie *Was* A legend. From what she could remember of the interaction she'd only been familiar with the bassist – Tim Lefebvre had frequented the jazz club she learned all she knew about drumming and living, after all. How wouldn't she have been familiar? Suddenly, a switch flicked in her head. The cravings came back, and with them came a grumbled utterance. 

◆ "Hm. I feel that, actually." Margo casually spoke. "I have an entire itinerary of shit I want to do once myself and Vi are out of here. Take her to New York, let her meet my mom... Take her to see Holly in prison. She's behind bars for being a fucking dumbass, but I still keep in touch with her. Nobody else does." She continued, a hint of annoyance in her voice. "And yeah, Bowie was a legend, but really I think his greatest strength was somehow *Always* Putting together an insane backing band."

○ "Anyways, I'm going out for a smoke. Don't feel like you gotta wait around for me; surely you got other shit on the agenda for today, right?"
Robert
"Oh," Whispered Esme, at the little (randomly) dropped detail of Vi's terrible, terrible ex. Many people here seemed to have terrible exes. She'd, at least, only ever had Valio.

"You are matching," She continued, trying for a more upbeat tone. "At least that is sweet."

Esme, also, had no idea who Holly was, or why nobody visited her in prison. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to. Margo seemed to be something of an enigma - not necessarily, though, one that Esmeralda was interested in cracking in her entirety. At the very least, though, they had solidarity in their pursuits and common ground. 

Ah, a smoke. Various students at the Cradle smoke - Esme noticed them, occasionally, up on the rooftops she once explored with Valio. Esme was too reserved to touch the notion, for now - but, it was tempting.

"I'll let you to it, then. You make kind company, Margo. Thank you for talking with me."
April
◆ "No worries, man. See ya. Hopefully you find your brother a nice watch."

○ And with that, Margo slinked out the door, fishing a pack of smokes from her back pocket as she went. Esme was now free to live her day.
Robert
——————(yay bonding time!—————-