[ Sigewinne is his senior. she'd already been at the Fortress of Meropide long before he arrived, well into her tenure when Wriothesley was just a lost pup in chains. she had taken care of him, carefully showing him the rules of the Fortress before he eventually took it for himself. he couldn't have done it without her, and he's always forever grateful for that. so, she gets to stick her silly designed stickers all over his things and his back and his face with her friends.

aside from that, how do you tell a melusine not to have fun? no matter how old they got, they always seemed to grasp onto it with a childlike wonder. ]

Oh yeah? You think that they go through all that bureaucratic red tape to get some high-quality stickers printed?

[ there's a little hm in his voice, because he never really wondered where all these stickers came from. all he knew of them was that they appeared like sticky, paper hydras, when one peeled off his back, three more magically appeared. ]

They probably have it down to an art, knowing them.

[ there were layers and layers of stickers, first on the back of his jacket, the on his vest, and then somehow nestled in the criss-crosses of his scars. Aether's weight is pleasant, pushing him a bit further into the bed, shifting every so often to press against his muscles and for Wriothesley to let out an oof or a woof in subdued laziness. ]

Maybe I should get a book to keep them in.

[ he says a bit thoughtlessly as Aether finds a knot to dig his thumb into as he distractedly looks at one of the stickers. ]