<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b6/Dotley-Charlotte-03.png)</div><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Name:</span></span></strong>Charlotte Leroux (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=316301.msg15271264#msg15271264)<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Date | Time:</span></span></strong>September 30th at 10am-ish<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Location:</span></span></strong>the Pink Room<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Outfit:</span></span></strong>Pink Floral Dress & Matching Heels<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Mood:</span></span></strong>Pleased, Playful, Preening<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Content:</span></span></strong>Meet the Roomies<br/><strong><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 13pt;">Tagging:</span></span></strong>Gabby & Roslyn || Open<br/><hr/><br/>Charlotte heard her roommates before she saw them. And what she heard was<em>French</em>.<br/><br/>The flowing lilt of the language was so clear and utterly distinctive to Charlotte. She’d recognize it anywhere and at any time. Mostly because she understood French just as fluently as she understood English. Her sneak peek of her roommate’s conversation didn’t make Charlotte quicken her pace as she approached their shared room.<br/><br/>She rushed for no one and she ran for nothing. However, hearing the familiar language put a bit of a bounce in her step as her heels clicked across the floor. It made her think of home. Her<em>real</em>home. The play of colors across the neon-soaked streets of New Orleans at night. The sticky summer heat of the bayou underneath noontime sun. The cloying sweetness of beignets fresh from the oven.<br/><br/>The first voice spoke perfect French. The second spoke an admirable attempt at French. Charlotte was curious to put faces to the voices.<br/><br/>“Bonjour, ya’ll,” she greeted as she stepped into the room and took it all in. Pink. The whole room was pink. Oh, it was perfect. Charlotte herself was all dressed up in a short pink floral dress that matched the room. And her roommates.<br/><br/>Well, one of them.<br/><br/>Charlotte lifted her hand with a little wave toward the young woman dressed in a gorgeous pink sweater. Cashmere? Nice, it looked soft enough. She glanced at the other redhaired young woman and quickly judged her green cardigan and green tennis shoes.<br/><br/>“I think you missed the memo,” Charlotte said with a playful little smirk on her glossy lips. “We wear pink in the pink room.”<br/><br/>Charlotte’s own voice was double sweetness. The southernness of her upbringing evident in both her French and her English. Charlotte stepped toward one of the empty beds and deposited her purse and a duffle bag on top of the comforter. Pink, of course. To match her dress and her heels. The rest of her luggage was pink as well, though it was being brought up later by the servants. Charlotte wasn't bringing up all those suitcases herself. She might have overpacked. Just a bit.<br/><br/>“I’m Charlotte,” she said as her delayed introduction to her new roomies. “Gabby and Roslyn, right?”<br/><br/>She reached for her purse and dug around inside of it for her compact mirror. It’d been almost an hour since she’d checked herself to make sure her hair and makeup were still on point. Travel was hell on the pores.<br/><br/>“Whenever I meet anyone else that speaks French, I’m never sure whether to be an American and shake hands or just<em>à la française</em>all the way and go for the<em>faire la bise</em>. You know what I mean?”<br/><br/>Charlotte chattered on about it, but she didn’t offer either in way of a proper greeting and introduction. She sat down on the edge of her newly claimed bed and began to preen in front of her mirror.