Note: This goes out to the Acquisitions Inc. #Cteam; you 5+ nerds make me laugh. I think the game is a ways off from discovering Rosie's backstory, so this might all be terribly out of date or just out of character someday. But for the time being, I hope it works.
Mama Says…
A gentle sweeping open palm, to a gentle controlled step that glides over the earth before allowing weight to settle into both feet. In an instant bone, muscle and sinew tighten and utilizes her low stance and in turn force travels up into and out of a tightened fist.
This constant interplay of hard/soft, slow/fast, yin and yang of the raven fist form had been happening for close to an hour in a quiet spot behind the Dran & Cortier.
Just another morning for Rosie.
Part habit and part necessity, as long as she was able, Rosie started her mornings like this; over the decades of study of the martial arts, through achy muscles and sore joints, she needed time to limber and warm up for another day of adventuring. Rosie liked to think of her battle hardened body like a master crafted instrument; always improving with age but requiring just a bit of extra care to sound just right.
Her internal exercises done, with the flick of her foot, the staff of the master rises from it's resting point on the ground and balances on the top of her foot before another flick throws it up to eye level and is snatched with her left hand before her other hand joins in and both deftly grab the staff and go through a basic weapons form that was taught to the young initiates at her monastery. Designed to help initiates familiarize themselves with stave type weapons in general, but also train the body to work with the staff in hand. Rosie loved going through this basic form because she it allowed her mind to wander as her body went through the imprinted movements she had done thousands of times before.
In the morning twilight she heard nature slowly waking up, as well as a faint snore that could only emanate from a burly Donaar. Another few hours and he'd hit his sleep quota and likely be hungry.
Another swing of the staff and her eyes swept over the upper floor of the D & C. The darkened windows from K'thriss' room probably meant he was still in his meditative torpor.
Then there was Walnut's room. Through the window, illuminated by candlelight she could see the young wood elf toiling away, putting ink to vellum as she worked on more documents to send back to head office.
Rosie grinned, and remembered when she was that determined and headstrong and didn't have the mellowing force of age to balance it all out.
Another few turns and swings of the staff later and again her eyes drifted up to Walnut and at that moment, she saw Walnut's hand stay from writing before her eyes drifted up and off into the distance. If Walnut noticed Rosie, it didn't show and instead her eyes softened as she looked out into the morning hours to the horizon.
Rosie's grin turned up a notch or two as she knew that look. It was part daydream, part wishful thinking and part reminiscing. That most puppy love of looks.
Their paths recently crossed with Brahma of team Beleraphon recently and quickly uncrossed at the end of their last adventure. Rosie knew of Brahma & Walnut's little tyrst...heck, she made sure to crash it and make sure everything was going well.
Rosie was content to let whatever was happening between the two to play out. She didn't know if there were ulterior motives on the bard's part, but for now, her 100+ years told to let it ride for the time being.
100+ years of being a mother/grandmother to both biological and adopted children gave her a leg up or 10 on these things. She'd lost count (really!) the number of times one of her sweet children came to her for relationship advice:
On new love: "So there's this cute Aarakocra I met at art school…"
On affection still in process of turning into love: "My lute teacher is so amazing mother! I was brought to tears at her last recital…"
On how to impress: "What do you think I should get them for their birthday mother?"
On what to do now, often in tears: "*sob*, can I stay with you for a few weeks?"
On decisions "I think, he's the one mother! Do you think this ring will be enough?"
You wouldn't believe the number of weddings she went to every year. Being the Beestinger clan Matriarch could be a pain.
Helping her children and doing her best to help in times of romantic uncertainty wasn't something her Mother told her she'd have to do someday, but after a few missteps with her older children she figured some things out over time.
Rosie loved watching new love grow and blossom.
She could do without watching things break apart and crumble. It was hard watching your children cry and scream into the maelstrom of emotions that came about in a relationship.
Thankfully Walnut wasn't there yet and maybe she never would. Things were extra complicated with those two, if things went south it'd be more than hurt feelings on the line, it might be crossed swords and spilled blood.
Walnut hadn't come to Rosie for advice, and until then, Rosie knew the exact amount of meddling that was required to help things along. Again, there was so many kids and grandkids to have fun with at their expense! Meddling also had the added bonus of allowing her to keep an eye on Walnut.
And if the inevitable ever did come to pass and she'd have to watch her young wood elf friend's heart break, or worse, found emotions played with for ill gains...
Well…The bard may have talent, but you don't live 100+ years and not learn a few tricks here and there about knowing just what parts of the body to hit to cause a heart to stop or an organ to pop like a soap bubble in vivo.
As that thought crossed her mind, she finished her staff form with an extra bit of force and just a bit of mental imaging of the exact point she'd be aiming for.
Rosie, with her back turned to the Inn, gave the staff a hard toss over her shoulder and with a backflip to cartwheel to midair kick, she landed firm and extended her right arm into the air and grasped and found her staff once again.
With one last quick internal check on her body; a twist and a comforting pop of a neck vertebra, Rosie silently entered the Dran & Courtier, greeted Propha as she saw the owner descend the stairs and walked back into the kitchen to make provisions for her team.
Looking over the larders Rosie saw eggs; saw fresh greens, some cured meat that would she knew would feed the group well.
Her eyes settled on baking ingredients and staples...
Ooh, perhaps fresh baked buttermilk biscuits…
...with strawberry jam?
Fin