The Sharpest of Tools

[The broadcast starts as any other one from Syre would: with the remnants of a meal just barely in frame and the alchemist sipping a glass of water. However, it seems she didn't mean to start the broadcast this early, as her expression slowly changes to one of surprise -- once she realizes the feed is on, anyway.]

Oh, I wasn't quite ready to talk yet. [She laughs, a bit embarrassed.] Well, I suppose I should get on with it.

[She clears her throat, takes another sip of water, then starts again.]

Good afternoon, Luceti. Bit of a grey day, don't you think? Reminds me almost of home, in a sense, with the sky looking as though it's about to snow any moment.

This will be my first winter here, so I'd like to ask: what manner of celebrations do we have here? What beliefs, what customs, generally prevail at this time of year? Are there feasts? Celebrations? Silent ceremonies?

I apologize for the barrage of questions -- I'm just a little curious.

[Video]

[The feed clicks on that Sunday with a thoughtful looking Syre, a cup of juice on the table beside her.]

I've a question for you all, if it would not trouble you to ask. [Here she is silent a moment, taking a sip of her drink before continuing.] And do pardon the interruptions -- I've only just risen from my sleep, you see.

Anyway, back to my point... I have been wondering for a while about the concept of time here in Luceti. I notice that the hours here are not nearly as short, but there are also not as many of them in a day.

What I mean to say is... how exactly does time differ in this world from my own? Because, if the date on this journal is to be believed, today marks the anniversary of my coming into existence.

[Another pause, another sip of her juice, and then she continues again.] To be plain, it would be my birthday today.

... I suppose this means I'll need to make the proper arrangements for some sort of celebration, even if it is for myself.

[And with that (and a faint, amused smile), she shuts off the feed.]

[Action]

[Not too long after that post, Syre is out and about in the village, bag in hand as she's perusing the shops. A few pastries here, some vegetables there -- she's going to be celebrating with a bit of dinner tonight.]

[Later on, she'll be at the library, looking around for a few cookbooks -- because what are ingredients without something to put them into? She's not going for anything horribly fancy, but if something catches her eye, she'll be copying it down.]