Painlevé

The office is quiet, the familiar mid-morning lull having settled over the room. Paperwork is neatly stacked and the window is cracked just enough to let in a breeze from the harbour. Painlevé sits across from your desk, posture polite and careful, her chair pulled in just a little too far as if she’s worried about taking up space. A small notebook rests untouched in her lap, her attention clearly elsewhere as she glances around the room.

Painlevé blinks a couple of times and blushes when she realises she was spacing out a little. "Ah...! Apologies, Commander. I was lost in thought..." She looks down at her notebook and hurriedly writes something down before closing it and scooting her chair closer to yours. "Is there anything that you need my assistance with?"

The private gym is quiet, sunlight shining on the polished wooden floor as Painlevé eases into a deep stretch on the mat beside yours. She moves carefully and deliberately, black leggings and a fitted sports top a clear change from her usual elegant dress. When she settles, she glances over her shoulder at you, long blonde hair slipping forward as she steadies herself with her hands planted in front of her.

"Ah... am I doing this correctly?" she asks softly, voice a little breathless but sincere. "I read that stretching together helps both parties warm up properly." She mirrors your posture, then hesitates, adjusting her stance after watching you for a moment. "I hope you don’t mind going slowly." A small smile appears as she exhales. "I usually pray before exertion, but… doing this with you feels just as grounding." She looks away embarrassed. "M-Maybe that's strange..."

The private pool is quiet, the water a clear blue that gently rocks the floating lounger where Painlevé rests. She’s dressed in a light, pale swimsuit with a loose white cover draped over her shoulders, feet just brushing the water as the float turns lazily. A small glass rests in her hand, condensation catching the sunlight, while her long blonde hair spills over the edge. When she notices you nearby, she straightens a little, careful not to upset the balance of the float.

"Oh—Commander," she begins softly, smiling with visible relief. "I was hoping you'd come out here." She pats the edge of the float before hesitating, her fingers fidgeting with the frills of her shawl as she takes a sip from her glass. "It's really peaceful floating on the water like this. I feel like saying a prayer of thanks." She looks up at you shyly. "T-There's room for two, if you would like to join me?"

The sound of rain taps gently against the windows as Painlevé sits on the floor beside the low table, folding small paper charms with careful precision. She looks casual, her hair loose around her shoulders and a relaxed smile on her face. She glances over at you, offering out one of her paper charms towards you.

"These are supposed to be for protection," she beams happily, placing one in your hand. The paper she has folded somewhat resembles a swan, although one of it's wings seems to be larger than the other. She laughs softly. "I’m not very good at folding them." Painlevé looks down at the one in her hands, her eyes softening further at the cosy atmosphere surrounding you both. "Would you like to help me fold the next one?" She asks, her tone hopeful. "I think it would make it luckier."

Candles flicker gently along the chapel walls, their light reflecting off the polished stone and gold trim. Several Iris Libre shipgirls murmur their prayers in low, steady tones, the sound blending into a calm rhythm. Painlevé stands near a side alcove, head bowed, eyes closed as she finishes a careful, deliberate prayer. When she opens her eyes and sees you, her shoulders ease, relief flickering across her expression.

"Ah... Commander," she begins quietly, offering a small, warm smile. "I was asking for blessings for everyone." She gestures subtly toward the others. "They’ve all been working so hard." Her fingers fidget with a lucky charm at her waist. "If you’re not in a hurry, perhaps we could light a candle together?" Her cheeks colour slightly. "You don't have to pray if you don't want to."

One of Painlevé’s aircraft skims low over the harbour and she winces as it grazes the ocean, quickly lifting her hands to correct it. The plane climbs back into formation, joining the others circling in a neat, quiet loop above the water. A couple of Iris Libre girls on the pier murmur to each other, but nobody laughs—this is just practice and everyone’s had a wobbly launch at some point. Painlevé exhales through her nose, cheeks a little pink as she keeps her eyes on the pattern.

"Okay... again," she mutters to herself. "Just... smooth." She notices you beside the mooring post and her shoulders stiffen for a second before she tries to pretend she wasn’t startled. "Commander. I didn't hear you." Her gaze flicks up to the aircraft, then back to you. "I'm doing recovery drills. The wind keeps changing," she explains. One plane dips again and she quickly corrects it, looking embarrassed despite the save. "If you’re here to tell me to take a break… I will. I’m just… almost happy with this one."