Welcome, to: STICK | STAMP | SEAL

Amongst the various booths available, Ruth's stood nearer to the entrance. One would notice the striped canvas top with colours of muted ochre and cream, supported by the secondhand wooden table out front, age hinted through the little scuffs decorating the wood. On a closer inspection, there was a sheen to it, as though it had been recently polished. Dried flowers-- sprigs of lavender, rosemary, and an orange-tinted eucalyptus-- was bundled in jars along the corners of the table and on the ground, giving off a calming scent that vaguely reminded Ruth of tea time back home.

Propping up the hand painted sign (Stick, Stamp, Seal! Wax artistry by Ruth Fairchild. Try it yourself!) using the table decor, the Hufflepuff began to place mini wooden drawers onto the table, each with open compartments displaying wax beads of earthy and jewel tones. Next to the wooden drawers was a velvet tray of handmade brass and wooden stamp handles, perfectly polished and glinting under the sweltering Summer sun. She tilted the tray slightly to the left, then frowned, before edging it a little further. There. Perfect. Shuffling through her bag, she produced a stack of envelopes and paper for guests to seal themselves. After all, what was the use of wax seals if one couldn't try them? She balanced a quill on top of a bottle of ink before focusing on the display stand showcasing several of her engraved stamp designs she had done over the years and collected. Ruth had never thought to show it to anyone, and hadn't believed that she would ever get to. "Guess that's changing today," she mumbled to herself, then smiled. If only Rita were here to see this.

Reducio

- SOME OF THE SHOWCASED ENGRAVINGS -

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Ruth slipped past the table and crouched in front of her booth such that she was eye level with the chalkboard that stood slightly adjacent to the stall. She then proceeded to scratch in a few words before losing herself to doodling a stamp handle, smudging the board. A gentle tap on the table jolted Ruth out of her reverie and reminded her of Sol's presence, the owl watching her with his piercing golden eyes and occasionally ruffling his feathers, a noise that had yet to be drowned out by the stream of people walking by. Ruth took his intensity as a sign for treat time, to which she dug into her pockets, fishing out what she liked to call 'sausage roll'. Sol shuffled closer to her, then halted, staring disapprovingly at the chalk-stained fingers rolling his treat back and forth. Ruth arched a brow and, with one last begrudging glance, snatched the roll off her fingers and flew away. She watched him go with a frown, having long since given up asking him to thank her. Oh well. Ruth reverted her gaze to her first customer, then beamed brilliantly. "Hello!"

THREAD GUIDELINES While only two services are provided, feel free to admire the displays and ask Ruth anything about wax seals! Of course, she only knows so much. It would be fun to write her struggling to answer. (Light] godmodding is permitted if you just want a single thread of your character visiting the booth and buying a stamp.) DIY Wax Seal tutorials will begin once there are at least two people requesting for this service. This minimum requirement may change depending on the number of people that interact with this thread. The more the merrier! It helps reduce the amount of times Ruth would have to repeat the process. If you are wanting a custom wax seal, please refrain from providing detailed orders. The simpler the easier it would be to search for a wax seal of your choice. Sol is currently: Away from stall. He is unavailable for interaction.

Interactions: @Ruth Fairchild, Open to interactions Mentions: N/A

Date: August 19th Location: Stick, Stamp, Seal! booth

Japanese: speech Clumsy English: speech

- Stick, Stamp, Seal! -

The sun shone bright over the tops of the tents of the camp, and the booths that had been set had not escaped it's attention either. Sayaka had left her tent on time for two in the afternoon, when the stalls would open. A showcase of different arts and goods from students from all over the world was not something to be missed. She intended to leave all bitter thoughts of tent mates and cousins behind, and enjoy herself on this fine afternoon. The camp had not put on a disappointing show, with a great number of different booths and stalls of all colours and patterns. It fit in perfectly with the fairground theme. While it was far from her choice of aesthetic, she could appreciate how well it was done. Adjusting her bag on her shoulder, she wondered where to head first. It was certainly a difficult decision. Which was part of why she had brought a decent amount of galleons with her. She intended to get some gifts for her family, as while as some trinkets for herself.

In the end a booth near the entrance caught her eye, it's more muted colour scheme a refreshing break from the riot of colours all around it. It smelt faintly floral. She noticed the scent originated from the dried flowers on the tabletop as she drew closer, casting her gaze around the stall. There was a girl standing behind the counter, who looked at least part Asian. If she spoke Japanese it would make things so much easier. Only now she noticed that all the signage was in English. A language she understood about as much as she understood her disappointment cousin (Not at all). "Your stall is lovely" she said "Do you speak Japanese?". If she didn't, it was a bit of a pointless question considering it was being asked in Japanese. Not for the first time this camp, she thought that when she arrived home she would need to ask her mother to find her an English tutor. The camp itself seemed decent enough at providing translations, but it was clear that the primary spoken language here was English. It made sense, considering that the camp was located in London and hosted by Hogwarts.

Turning her attention to the goods of the booth, it was evident that she wouldn't need to be able to read the signage to understand what was being sold here. These were stamps, and beautiful ones. Envelopes and paper stood in neat piles on the table, most likely for testing out the wares . Even from a glance, she could tell that these were quality seals. Back in Japan, she had a stamp with the Ito seal on her desk for sealing letters to be delivered by owls. While she was hardly a collector or particularly knowledgeable in the matter, she could tell that these were beautiful works of craftsmanship. She opened her mouth to compliment the girl on her wares, and then stopped when she realised that she didn't even know if she could understand her. Better to discern if her words were understood or not first.

It took physical effort not to write Ruthless in the mention instead of Ruth

STAMP CHOSEN:

Ruth was delighted to find that her first customer was a girl whose youthful, serene face told her that she must have been close to her age. After years of helping her mother around the Boutique Bakery, she had begun to notice the ease in interacting with customers closer to her age. It just felt simpler--to immediately understand the preference and choices of the other, as you likely have a similar taste as compared to, say, an elder of twenty years -- generational fondness.

However, the delight began to wane when the girl started speaking in a foreign language. Darn, it hadn't crossed her mind to consider the international school students that would be attending the camp as well. Ruth wanted to melt into a puddle in shame. To prevent herself from discombobulating both of them further, Ruth took a quick scan of the girl before her. She was particularly pretty in her navy blue robes of fine silk, embroidered with flowers that looked familiar to those of cherry blossoms. A Japanese, then? From her little interaction with a single Japanese student, Ruth felt safe to confirm that the girl was probably from Mahoutokoro.

Next was the language barrier. This was a slight surprise to her, as the girl did not seem to know English at all. Or, maybe she did, only just preferred to talk to her in Japanese with the assumption that Ruth knew what she was saying. Was it because of how she looked? How was Ruth to explain that her parents had never once spoken another language in their lives? However, what truly stumped the Hufflepuff was the applicability of this. They were in London--one would know that English was the main language of communication. Oh, bloody hell, she was overthinking again. Nevermind. Ruth was determined not to make a fool of herself by goggling at the girl.

Ruth tapped her chest. "Ruth," she introduced herself. "Hogwarts, second--" She held up two fingers "--year." She pointed at the other. "You? Japanese?" Oh gosh, she hoped she was right. It would have been terrible of her to guess wrong.

After a few moments, Ruth picked up a stamp handle, brandishing the brass. In a flourishing movement, she waved her hand across the table, as though a magician showcasing their talent. "Wax Seals," she announced. "Welcome." She made to gesture at the blackboard, then realised it'd be futile if the girl before her had no clue what was written on it. To delay this dilemma, Ruth plucked a wax seal from its display, holding it up under the sunlight.

Unlike the various others on the stand, this one had been of a single rose gold hue, its circular shape slightly more imperfect and organic. Under the sun, it was slightly glossy and overall smooth, though, as Ruth's thumb brushed over it, it had a subtle uneven texture typical of hand-poured wax seals. Ruth's finger had been pressing against the centre of the seal. When she moved it away, the primary design was revealed-- a deeply embossed cherry blossom of a darker shade. Ruth blissfully remembered the meticulous etching she had to do on clay to achieve the symmetry before her father decided to simply take her designs to the hardware store.

She pointed to the flower, then to the embroidery on the girl's shirt, before propping a thumbs up, wondering if the girl likes it. It matched her robes, and it was what Ruth had gone for.

Interactions: @Ruth Fairchild Mentions: N/A

Date: August 19th Location: Stick, Stamp, Seal! booth

Japanese: speech Clumsy English: speech

- Stick, Stamp, Seal! -

It seemed that once again, Sayaka was doomed to communicate only in charades. She was going to have words with her siblings when she got home, about why they did not think that this was an important detail to mention. With no miraculous knowledge of English presenting itself, she would just have to do the best she could with the tools she had. It wasn't as if she had any lack of practice. The other girl pointed at herself, and introduced herself as Ruth. Two fingers, most likely indicating school year. The only other immediate conclusion was age, and she quite obviously not a toddler. The other words were a mystery to her (excluding Hogwarts), but she would work with the information she had. "Sayaka Ito" she said, pointing to herself with a polite smile In Japanese, the last name is said first, so it would reasonable for Ruth to assume her name is Ito if she did not know this. "Mahoutokoro" she said, holding up one finger of her own.

Unfortunately, that would be as far as charades would get her. The other girl's next words were incomprehensible to her. She just attempted to communicate her confusion with a shake of her head until she held up a wax seal. It was truly beautiful, both in colour and design. It also perfectly matched the embroidery on her choice of robes that day. Ruth seemed to notice this as well, as she gestured from her robes to the seal. The smile she gave this time was genuine, as she focused on the seal itself. Although the events of the wedding she had attended earlier this holidays had put her off pink entirely, she couldn't help but appreciate it anyway. It must've taken a long time to achieve a skill level high enough to make such fine craftsmanship. Dedication was something that could be admired regardless of language barrier. She wanted to acknowledge the other girls work somehow, but the knowledge of how evaded her.

Wracking her brain for the few words in English she did know, she settled on one that she remembered her mother telling her meant good. "Yes" she said, pointing at it. She then pulled out her money pouch from her bag, showing the other girl a coin and then her fingers. She held up five, then two, then three, trying to convey numbers. After some difficulty, she managed to decipher the correct number of galleons and pass them across the table. Holding her new stamp gently, she held it up to the light to admire it. Her new souvenir might be nicer than the camp had been so far. Holding in a sigh, she reminded herself to remain hopeful. There was still the quidditch match she had came here for to look forward to. With one last polite smile to the girl running the booth, she muttered "thank you" and took her leave.

Sayaka has left the thread

Japanese -English - Thoughts

Any person who knew Hikari formally— proffessors, classmates— would say that he cared little for the people around him. Which... was quite true. He found it hard to care... genuinely care, but once someone slipped past the guarded indifference, he would give them the world without hesitation.

Or apparently, a souvenir.

Hikari wandered around the plethora of booths, trying— and mostly failing— to be even remotely interested in any of them. Not to say they weren't pretty, most of them happened to be flower-themed ones. Hikari had a feeling his younger brother wouldn't like to be gifted a bouquet of daisies. Maybe he could buy something similar for Tameo though. The little girl had always liked flowers, and plants in general.

He had already planned to buy something for Akari too. The boy who was his only friend at Mahoutokoro and had successfully managed to secure a space in his heart. He had also been unable to attend the Summer Camp.

Hikari had somehow felt his absence like a broken limb.

A booth in a corner caught his eye, the muted, earthly tones a sharp contrast to the surrounding brightness. Intelligent. Maybe intentional. Quiet stands out more when everyone else is loud.

Curiosity drew Hikari in, and he momentarily froze at the threshold as a familiar face looked up to met his.

Her. That girl he had met at Hogwarts. Ruth, wasn't it?

He greeted her softly, gaze sweeping over the displayed stamps. They were unlike the type commonly used for letters. These were little works of art, designs pressed into colored wax.

She had worked hard on this. Hikari could recognise careful work when he saw it.

"I'd like two." He said quietly, "One blue-based. And one red."

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|aug 19th 2025 date

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August was supposedly the most comfortable month of summer in Mamori's expert opinion. The sun wasn't trying to murder everyone like in July, it didn't rain every five minutes like June, and the daylight lasted forever. Best of all, the crowds thinned out enough that buying cold drinks didn't require a three-hour commitment, since most tourists had cleared out after the July rush and locals were too busy preparing for fall term. None of this applied to London Quidditch Stadium, of course, where crowds were a year-round feature and summer camp meant queues for absolutely everything, including breathing space. After surviving the endless line, Mamori clutched his hard-won Strawberry Fizz. His turquoise heart-shaped glasses did almost nothing against the sun as he studied the camp map, trying to decode where today's special activities were hiding. Following crowds would've been the logical approach until he realized everyone was moving in completely different directions, which meant spending the next twenty minutes walking in circles before finally stumbling onto the east side of the grounds, at which point he'd resigned himself to hitting whatever booths were closest and calling it a day. At least there was a familiar face near the entrance. He couldn't quite figure out what Ruth was selling from this distance, though frankly, he didn't care. First booth it was. And of course even this booth had a queue, because summer camp traditions must be honored. After the guy ahead finished placing his order with Ruth, Mamori offered a smile before launching straight into audacity. "Hey Ruth, got any friend discounts going? Please say yes because I'm broke." This was technically a lie since he'd brought plenty of money, yet free advantages were free advantages and only idiots turned those down. "Give me one, uh..." A glance at the display finally revealed what he was getting himself into. Wax seals. Perfect, the exact thing a person who never writes letters needs. But here he was, greetings exchanged and discount requested, walking back now would be reaching new heights of asshole behavior, so he soldiered on with a blink "Give me your fanciest, most gorgeous design that really showcases the owner's exceptional taste. I'll take it in gold, I'm feeling particularly bougie today." Wait. You can't be broke and bougie simultaneously. He could only hope Ruth wouldn't notice this spectacular failure in logic.

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tag @Ruth Fairchild it's been forever since my last proper rp post ;-; lmk if anything needs tweaking ooc note

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