It seems I am an orange
// niyuart.github.io/FruitfulPers... //

Noa caught that look and gave a slight shrug. "I am sure, I have heard wonderful things about the food."

Noa shrugged softly "We can agree to disagree. I find it a touch callous to waste talent and promise." They could admit that for that man to live twenty two years or so hunted by every Crow house. That was impressive.

Noa offered a gentle hum. "Let us enjoy the ceremony and not the bonds of duty."

had not seen the talons. "Though they may not show, I am not their keeper."

Noa offered Veryl an understanding look catching the fouling of her mood. They waited before taking the gestured seat with a soft hum.

"I doubt I will be much of protection. I am on thin ice with them, due to familial history with a certain shadow." They mused softly. Though in their scans they +

They raised a brow giving a gentle chuckle. "He will covet until it is his undoing." It was Salvador's flaw which was a shame. He had promise all of Arainai had promise.

"Well at least allow me the pleasure of keeping you company." They offered with a slight curve in their own mask.

They looked her over with a warm look. She looked beautiful. "Perhaps if your duties allow we can share a dance tonight."

the process of dressing was a ritual, before they made their way to ceremony.

Black gilded in rich florals and the caplet sweeping down their shoulder and over their arm.

Scanning the room they made their way to a dark corner having spotted the woman. "Veryl, I am surprised to see you here." +

talon dagger and rapiers they strolled into their room laying them down on the bed. Going into their closet they quietly flicked through various clothing. A Black capelet with pink roses caught their eye and a small chuckle left their lips as they pulled out the costume.

laying the black and gold +

The letter had arrived while they had been patrolling the grounds, though now tucked in their room they reread the missive and noted the signature of the first talon. A wedding, not for a couple they personally knew but they would still attend as a show of support and loyalty.

Grabbing the gilded +

in a far corner slipped out of the Opera door, trading conspiratorial looks.

It was her passion, after all. “Migliorare.”

With that, she strode back to her costume work, mending a tricky piece of lace that had been refusing to stay sewn on. It hadn’t occurred to her that she may have overstepped. Nor did she notice as a couple of individuals --

The mezzo stared at her with wide, confused eyes. The audacity was too much for them to even process, much less come up with some sort of comeback.

“Inutile. Ascoltami, così.” Standing beside the mezzo soprano, Ivy belted out the notes perfectly without breaking a sweat. --

If this individual was going to be the lead, they needed to do FAR better than this. It was an embarrassment. Especially if it was going to be tied to House Dellamorte. “Sei troppo piatto e il tuo falsetto sembra più un vibrato. Come hai fatto a ottenere questo ruolo?” --

that was not what was happening today. As she stabbed her finger for the umpteenth time, she threw her equipment down and marched over to the mezzo-soprano as the rest of the cast backstage watched in horror.

“Cosa diavolo stai facendo? Sei sordo di tono?” She was not having any of it today.--

how she felt.

Having something to focus on, like the simple action of a needle pulling thread, helped to focus her when her mind was too busy to even sketch. Having beautiful music eased her soul when she needed to find a feeling and hold onto it to center herself. But apparently --

her out and she wasn’t quite used to it yet. Despair’s attachment to her had really muted a lot of her other emotions and so now that she was able to feel a wide array again, they quickly became overwhelming and overstimulating. And she already had enough trouble processing and articulating --

((Short story incoming))

After chatting with the stage manager for a little bit and showing off her work in progress, the manager finally nodded and offered Ivy a job backstage helping to sew and repair the costumes for the singers and dancers. The morning's antics had irritated and stressed--

glanced to the young man and a very obvious map of Treviso quietly making their way over slowly. "Hello there Ser, can I ask what your interest is in Treviso is?"

They had seen the damage of the scuffle and the jewelry left behind in Ivy's dressing room. The the glowing Qamek was concern they had noted but at the moment they did not need to stir the city into the panic by tearing the ports apart. But they would find where it came in.

Their amber eyes +

Some distance away from the young man. The third talon quietly pulled a damp handkerchief from a pouch on their belt and cleaned their knife with a slow drawn out sigh.

Politely questioning the understudy had yielded no information. Bending down they reached down and plucked their gloves back up.+

((thank you so much for putting this on))

"Apologies bella, however you and I need to have a conversation." They murmur sweetly, a voice they had used a time or two on their peers. A velvet gloved threat as they guided the songstress away from the stage and to somewhere, they could speak quietly.

As the closing notes were started, they stood downing the last of their wine and quietly making their way to the backstage waiting in the shadows for the songstress to exit.

It was quick and practiced. A cloth over her mouth, their glove pressed it tight while another one held her wrists together +

opera glasses down. It could have been an injury they told themself as they drank more of their wine.

Plucking the program up they looked over the list of names and gently ripped one off from the program for later.

Sipping their wine they listen to the singing. Their hand twitching and they rubbed their gloves fingers together quietly lifting their eyes to the stage....

Their hand reached for the opera glasses dialing them in on who should be Ivy. The suspicion that had settled in them worsened as they set +

Reaching into their pocket they pulled out a small timepiece looking at the time. Their lips pursed as their brows knitted. Perhaps it was just a wardrobe complication.

Reaching for a second flute of wine, they caught the opening notes of the next song quietly heading into their box. Sitting down +

open for anyone who wished to join them. The lowered lights caught the golden leaves of their jacket. Reclining back they sat the glasses down on a small table with their wine. Regret starting to linger in their thoughts as they listened to some the idle chatter from the neighboring boxes.

They made their way from the dressing room, quietly collecting a flute of wine. Slowly sipping it they made their way up to the upper boxes. A program discreetly collected and their glasses before they entered the box and quietly just sat down. Flipping open the page they left the door of the box +

I know the urge will be strong amongst many of your blorbos, please refrain from attempting to stop her stealthy snatching! ))

(( Enjoy!!))