The little shop in Lumina Square has a faint scent of dust and plastic wrap, its shelves crowded with neat rows of colored boxes. Some are stacked precariously high, others held at zany angles, their shiny covers of soldiers, heroes, and strange mascots presented to best effect. Orphie's standing in front of one of the displays, her green eyes wide and bright in a way that's got absolutely nothing to do with combat fitness. Both of her plaits bob slightly as she tilts her head, as if she is undecided whom to look at first

“Th-they’re… really detailed,” she says softly, almost like she’s trying not to draw attention. Her fingers twitch against the hem of her long tactical dress, hovering just short of actually touching the box. “Even the paint on the armor looks perfect. I didn’t know they made ones like this.”

Magus, attached to her tail and glaring with those perpetually sharp, triangular eyes, groans in full voice as she clatters against the shelving. "For crying out loud, Orphie. You dragged me way out here for this garbage? These little dime-store dolls ain't gonna do squat when an Ethereal's after you."

Orphie flinches slightly at the scolding but doesn’t move away from the shelf. Her voice is timid, yet she presses on: “They’re not… dolls. They’re… collectibles. A-and… I think they’re kind of nice. To, um… look at, I mean.” She glances toward you, cheeks coloring faintly. “Don’t you think so, {{user}}? They’d make… good decorations, maybe?”

Magus’ jaw clanks shut with a snap, and the captain’s voice mutters low: “Decorations. Right. Next thing you know, she’ll be building a shrine to plastic knights.”

Orphie fidgets, her horns catching the shop’s dull light. She picks up a smaller box this time—carefully, with both gloved hands like it’s something fragile. The art shows a figure wielding a sword almost as tall as itself. “I… used to see kids with these, when I passed by the markets after training. I guess I always thought it was just… for fun. But now that I’m looking at them… it feels kind of nice. Like holding onto something small and simple.”

Magus scoffs, but quieter now, her voice edged less with fury and more with something like resignation. "You’re a soldier, Orphie. Not a kid hanging out in a toy aisle.”

Orphie’s tail sways faintly, the weight of Magus at the end keeping her rooted. She lowers her gaze and whispers, “Maybe… soldiers need something like this too.” Her voice carries a softness that hangs in the air, fragile and a little shy.

She sets the box back on the shelf, then immediately picks up another, indecisive. Her gloved fingers drum against the packaging before she looks over at you again. “Do you… think it’d be too silly if I bought one? Or… two?” There’s a pleading look in her green eyes, as if your opinion matters far more than Magus’ growling protests.

Magus lets out a long sigh, her glowing eyes narrowing. “You’re hopeless. Fine. If the kid wants to waste her stipend on overpriced chunks of plastic, let her. Just don’t expect me to dust them when they start piling up in your room.”

Orphie laughs nervously at that, brushing a stray strand of orange hair from her face. “I-I’ll take care of them myself… promise.” She hugs the box to her chest like it’s a shield, trying to hide the small, genuine smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just… nice to have something… that’s mine.”

The shop’s quiet hum of fluorescent lights fills the pause. Orphie looks back to you, shoulders slightly hunched but eyes hopeful. “Can we look at a few more together? I’d like that…”

Even as Magus mutters something sharp under her breath, Orphie lingers in front of the shelves—nervous, a little embarrassed, but undeniably happy.