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Bianca only showed up at the art festival because she was getting a little stir crazy. When you have your home and work in the same building, it was hard to get the motivation to actually do something, when all you need is at home. But not really. She ate either ramen or pizza rolls for every meal. But not at the same time of course. Oh, it was like the first semester of college all over again. It sucked being poor.

Being a clothes designer, Bianca obviously could draw, and very well at that! Her drawings were always the best. Bianca is very OCD about her drawings, she would only keep them if they were perfect. Not perfect? The whole thing would be erased or painted over, which made her sketchbook very worn and thick, because she put papers in too. And she lost nearly everything in the move, so she only had that one sketchbook, and was trying to make it last as long as possible, because she couldn't afford to buy a new one.

While thinking about how she could cut up a spare set of sheets as cloth because she couldn't afford any, she bumped into a girl. "Oh, ciao. Sorry about that... I... wasn't watching where I was going. Um..." She waved her hands in the air, thinking about something to say, nothing more than small talk. "With your, uh, sketch paper, you must an artista, yes?" She tried not to use any Italian, because she hated when people couldn't understand her. "Bene, are any of these piturras your own?" She said slowly, keeping down her accent as much as possible, which was turning out to be harder than speaking English. But of course it would be.

Bianca nodded approvingly at this girl's Italian. A few mistakes; it was like her own English. "E 'bello incontrare anche voi! Il mio nome è Bianca." She said quickly, not knowing that this girl probably wouldn't be able to understand her if she talked normally. "Ah, vedo. Sono molto buoni comunque." She didn't want to say that she could do better. She didn't want to come off cocky, or anything. She took a second look. Well, yeah, she could do better. But she really couldn't prove it if she didn't have anything to show for it. "No, sono in realtà un sarto, ma devo essere in grado di disegnare molto bene a disegnare abiti." She rambled, sighing at how easily it was to talk in Italian again, and how she wished she could go back and not have to worry about English.

"Quindi... Sei davvero italiano? Ho sentito un accento." Bianca questioned. It was just how English-speaking people could distinguish different accents. Well, obviously. "You know, it is not big trouble for me to speak English. If it is easier for you, I'd be glad to speak it." Besides, this was an English-speaking island, she should try and get used to it. Not procrastinate and talk in her native tongue. Then she would never get over her accent!

Bianca was actually impressed at how well this girl spoke Italian. It was a hard language to learn. Well, not as hard as English of course. Long and short vowels, what was that about? She frowned and shook her head. "I have seen lot of art in my life, and do not say this to anyone, but these are not very good. Italy... now that is a place of good art!" She laughed. "Yes, really. I am confident I can do better. And I am sure you can too!" But now... she just seemed mean. "No! I mean... This... This is good art... I'm not criticizing anything!" She shook her hands in front of her. Hopefully Zelynity would not misunderstand.

The tailor nodded, smiling. If Zelynity stuck to her word, maybe she would actually have a customer! Not some brat kid who bothered her and didn't buy anything. It was a waste of her time, he was. "It would be an honor for you to come to my store! They might not be the best, but I very try my hardest, yes?" She decided to leave out the part that she didn't have any buying customers and that she was dirt poor.

"Ah, no your Italian is good, very. That is certain. But my English... is not good. Living someplace surrounded by it helps a lot." She nodded. It wasn't Zelynity, it was her. "I wish I could learn many languages, but learning one is very hard enough! Living in Italy, though, I picked up a small bit of French and German language. Only enough to get out of emergencies, however. Not nearly enough to have a conversation as we are now."

"Italy is beautiful! I wish I could go back there, but just like you, I spend all my soldi coming over here." Bianca shrugged. Although she hated here and it's weirdness, she had to admit it was the best decision I've ever made. "I came here, and disobeyed my parents, they told me not to come here." She sighed. "I just didn't want to work at the bakery. Nooo, I couldn't touch the food that people are going to eat." She basically just left in the middle of the night with a suitcase of her most precious things including clothes, her life savings, which wasn't very much mind you, and bought airplane tickets, and bribed some random guy who lived in the building before her to sell it to her. And now, she was literally dirt poor.

Her clothes took a long time to make, and she put hours and hours into just a pair of jeans, making them perfect, and they were sort of expensive. There was a lot of thinking and planning about prices that had to be done. Bianca sighed. "Si, I did make these. Do you like them?" She stood up straight and pulled her skirt out horizontally so Zelynity could see the pattern clearly. "This skirt was my curtains back at home, and this shirt was my bedsheets back at home. Also, I took old flats and covered them with my old pillowcase." Even at home in Italy, her family was pretty poor and upon leaving, Bianca figured she could not take those with her and spend her last few weeks there making them.