FAERIE - KIND.

❝Maybe– –❞ He mused as he pouted his lip feigning thought. Despite being a man of oath even he couldn’t escape the mortal coil of conceit. He was a liar. A well accomplished one. But one couldn’t blame him when faced with his circumstance. Listening to her considering her… field of work painted her not that different than the common man; ‘’Just doing whatever to get by’’, if it paid well, who could possibly blame them? Who but he. He considered it the thought of modern slaves. Profiting utmost from their position, probably too afraid to risk it all for change… Or wasn’t she? He had to discover that, for he felt a drive in her unlike any other.

Yet another charismatic smile scorched his visage. One that spelled provocative without a single word being uttered.   ❝Save me the bullshit.❞ He spoke with a blunt, merciless tone. Such reasoning perhaps worked for the common fan, but he was unlike any she came across.    ❝Such passion, you can’t fake that. Money surely can’t motivate that. You sing because THATS what you do. That’s who you are meant to be.❞ Just like he, was meant to be free.

    A TOUCH OF ANGER mars her countenance as he counters her. SHE FEELS DELIBERATELY MISINTERPRETED ; the one time she doesn’t over - explain, and it results in this.

    “ I didn’t deny, ” Nora states, tone frosty. “ that I liked singing. You’re right in that it is my passion, and I’m very lucky to be able to do it for money. You’re the one who just asked me why I ‘ wasted my time ’ with entertaining -- and I told you I do it for money. ” Her expression is stony. “ I can’t live off of singing to myself in my apartment. ”

@chantoile // plotted thread. 

      Glassy tears coated with toxic varnish emphasized agony and acceptance. The portrait enveloped two figures: a common woman gouging her dagger into the split forehead of a weeping man who lay on his back, restrained. It was deemed irreplaceable, sought out by fine art collectors worldwide—a number of which who showed themselves tonight to vaunt steep culture. Wasteful. 

      Hisoka crossed the dim, vacant gallery after having seen enough, soon rejoining his group inside a theater space. Singers whose lyrics left him feeling even more turned off circulated the stage. Grievously trimmed nails reached up to adjust his tie midsong. His hand twitched. “…Oh?” Again. “Was I always this jittery?” He glanced up, an unsettling curve splitting his mouth as he looked the current singer in the eye. 

    SECURITY DETAIL ISN’T ALWAYS a thankless job. Of course, this is a special case. The Lanmi Art Gala gets many rich visitors, and it’s quite the task to entertain and protect them all. Helps that Nora can do both ; sing, all while keeping an eye on the crowd for anyone not on the guest list.

And speak of the devil. A man so distinctive she wonders if he even tried to blend in ; tall, strikingly handsome, hair a brilliant red. A sharp - eared listener might pick up a change in Layla’s song, a subtle edge to the sung words.

    But it doesn’t work.

    She doesn’t panic. Perhaps he’s of a particularly strong mind. She sings with the sharpness of a blade now, and notes that the visitors closest to her begin to look faintly uncomfortable, despite the fact that she’s not directing the sentiment at them.

    The man stops. Then, he looks at her, and smiles.

    A lull in her words, thrown off - guard as she is, but Nora recovers so quickly that one could be forgiven for thinking the slip was intentional. Mars, her colleague, is watching her ; holding an arm just behind her back, she taps her pinkie and thumb together several times. The agreed - upon signal for threat from intruder.

    She finishes her song and out the corner of her eye watches Mars move away to the PA system, bowing as the audience claps. Mars’ booming voice rings out over the speakers ; “ Ladies and gentlemen, this is an emergency announcement. We’ve just received notification that dangerous intruders are in the gallery. ” Gasps of shock, a shriek. “ Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the emergency exits ; you’ll be escorted by our security personnel. ” People start moving, and Nora’s eyes flick from the man to a table of crystal glasses. Shame she has to ruin such nice things.

    A shriek rips from her mouth, shattering the glasses into pieces. She was careful to simply direct the sound wave at the table as opposed to just shouting ; conserves strength, as well as avoids damaging the ears of the audience. A wordless tune warbles from her lips, and the shards begin to hover.

❝ THE ENCORE, of course, ❞  He spoke with a grin scorching his visage. Was there any reason he remained her in his lonesome? Probably not, other than him being drawn to her voice that is. A soft chuckle escaped him as he heard her name. Yeah, it was what the signs said, but obviously a pseudonym. Her stage name, it wasn’t  any different than any of the aliases he had. Sometimes he was Leonardo, sometimes he was Donatello, other times he was Michaelangelo– – mostly Rafael. But today, today he was himself.  ❝ Jericho… You can call me that. ❞ Leisurely he took a gulp from his drink and thereby emptying it. Yet another refill awaited him, this time, however, he took his time to inspect her from up close. She was but a few years younger than he was, it was hard to say. Despite being longer than most women he knew she had a doll like touch to her to her face.    ❝ Or Maybe… – –Maybe it was because I can’t fathom. I can’t fathom why you waste your time… With them. ❞

   “ JERICHO. IS THAT YOUR REAL NAME? ” she quips, one brow arching. It’s sharp, yes, but he’s a big guy. He can handle it.

   Andrea passes by and places her drink on the table. “ Your bellini, princess, ” he teases, and Nora flips him off with a smirk. The man’s eyes turn to the other, expression considerably cooler. “ You know, we are past closing time. ”

   “ He’s talking with me, Andrea. It’s alright. ”

   “ Ahh, Miss Layla can never resist conversation with her fans. But I’m not refilling that glass, pal. I don’t get paid for anything I do past two. ” He turns on his heel and paces away. Nora rolls her eyes, though his ultimatum is fair.

  She regards Jericho levelly. He appears older than her, maybe in his late twenties. His features are sharp, thrown into stark relief by the shadows of the lounge, lined in a way that is all too common these days -- the common man has much that ages him. Raven - haired, with strange, striking amber eyes. He is attractive, in a rough - hewn sort of way.

   She sips her drink. “ With who? Oh ... do you mean the patrons? ” A wry smile. “ I think you’re mistaking my line of work, Mister. I’m here to sing, and nothing else. ” Not that she had any contempt for a woman working as a ... lady of the night. It was a job that required a fair amount of determination, to be sure.

Slanted  hues  softly  widen  and  lips  pucker.  Had  she  had  less  self-restaint,  she  would’ve  cooed  at  the  sight  of  the  strawberry  patterned   dress!  It  was  so  cute!  A  quick  step  forward  is  taken  and  hands  are  already  outstretched  to  feel  the  texture  of  the  clothing,  interest  clearly  piqued.  “  I  like  it.  ”  If  it  weren’t  for  the  little  strawberries,  she  would’ve  swatted  the  dress  away  without  a  care  in  a  world!

She  wants  to  try  it  on…  where  were  WEGO’s  fitting  rooms?  Lustrous  mane  bounces  as  she  turns  her  head  to  and  fro  to  locate  any  nearby  employee,  only  to  be  stopped  short  from  the  display  of  the  dress  that  Nora  wished  to  buy  for  herself.

“  That’s  cute.  ”  Yukako  comments,  fingers  still  playing  with  the  frilled  skirt  of  her  dress…  look  at  her,  claiming  ownership  over  it  already!

    NORA BEAMS, clearly pleased that her friend appreciates the dress. Well, what can she say -- she has taste! “ I’m going to find another one before I try them on. We can show them off to each other. ”

“ Well Avalon is the last name of my guitarist, but I’m glad to hear that it sounds that way. “ A timid shake of her head with a chuckle hearing the name Hall and Oates. “ Our first album is called Gypsum Afternoon and our second is Violet Dreams. We are currently working on our third album in the studio, that is when I can wrangle up the boys for the sessions that we book in London. “

    THAT’S KIND OF A SICK LAST NAME, no lie. “ Oh, then I’ll have to check you out. ” She commits the name to memory, resolving to Google it later.

nagi.sa mo.moe - cheesemagicalgirl (pu.ella magi mad.oka magica) (my FIRST tumblr muse)

art.emia venus - theyoungestvenussister (brave.ly default)

fiore de.rosa - roseredmage, rxdmages (brave.ly default)

iago - dusktactician, duskhearted (fi.re emblem: fa.tes)

clara sinagra - vileclaws (urban fantasy oc)

queen mab - autumncrowned (urban fantasy oc, who also fits in w/ nora’s lore)

captain phas.ma (st.ar wars)

sa.tya vas.wani/symm.etra - vyavasthaa (very briefly), pratisamya (over.watch)

aki.ra otoi.shi - aweshock (jo.jo’s biza.rre adventure) (i have a sideblog for him in reserve tho)

THE ANTI - HERO.

    A central character in a story, movie, or drama who lacks conventional heroic attributes. They often fail many times and are known to be flawed. Opposite of the Tragic hero, you often do things out of selfishness so you can advance and grow as an individual. This is often done unconsciously. When people ask for favors, you expect rewards in return. Your personality can be seen as complicated and you often can through a cycle of moods in a matter of what seems like seconds. You're seen as typically aggressive and full of emotion. There would be times where it seems like you are completely calm and then at a flip of coin be upset about something. You have a lot on your mind 24/7 and it's hard for you to handle. Sometimes your attempts at showing you care can backfire, since you often get too into the emotional aspect of the situation.

HE EXTINGUISHED HIS CIGARETTE.  All in a nonchalant and carefree manner, one could assume he did it often. After all, he knew better than smoke in the presence of a lady. He drank. Besides that he was so captivated by her voice it was all bud anyway. Her voice. He imagined the nobles didn’t tear her voicebox from her throat yet simply because they were afraid to bring any harm to it. CLEVER. In caution, he looked from his left side followed by his right. Briefly eyeing the camera that was positioned in the corner of the room– – and uncountable other spots in the city. The machine overlord liked his control over humanity. 

However, all he would see was an empty chair, for Jericho was one of the several people that possessed the skill of Emulation. The ability to completely alter his appearance as he saw fit, under certain conditions. To any bystander both the glass he held and himself weren’t visible. To the barkeep (mainly because he served the drinks) and the lady he was. As if whispering a  secret.  ❝               Don’t tell the big guy. But so do I.❞ A chuckle escaped him as he signaled the barkeep.  ❝Normally I would buy you a drink, but you know, alcohol. It’s bad for the vocals.❞ He spoke mischievously as he watched his drink being poured. ❝What’s your name?.❞

    “ HASN’T STOPPED ME, ” she answers casually, deciding that in fact, she does want a drink. “ Andrea, can I have a bellini, please? You can tell Cassius to dock it off my pay. ” The bartender, Andrea, snorts -- he knows Cassius would never dock her pay, or any of theirs, for any reason.

   he doesn’t mind her hand being on his arm at all, but its existence there slips his mind as he exchanges goodbyes with his young fans. only when she retracts it does he remember, due to the sudden lack of warmth from the contact. she seemed rather awkward following that little stint, but he didn’t want her to be embarrassed about it! that’s when he realises that there’s a high chance she likes him. that’s something girls do when they like you, right? they touch you? sometimes he forgets that he can be charming in his own way. “no, it’s—that’s fine, really,” put shortly, because he didn’t want to further discuss it in case it would make her more uncomfortable. now, if it were his vocalist co-host instead of him in this scenario, the guy would have teased her about it. but jaime is for the most part a good, considerate boy!  he’ll even direct the conversation away from himself. “yeah, i guess so,” there’s a modest smile there, swiveling back ‘round to face the counter as the waitress arrives with the orders he forgot he’d even placed. his gratitude is expressed in a polite nod, eyes roving over the surprisingly half-decent looking arrangement of waffles and fruit. a certain level of comfortableness has returned to his physicality now, settling down after that whole scenario. when he’d get used to such a thing—he just wasn’t sure. the guitarist rests an elbow on the counter next to his plate, cupping his cheek in his palm and leisurely twisting his lower body on the stool to face her. his eyes follow.

“nora, you didn’t tell me why you’re on holiday here, yet.”

   SHE APPRECIATES THE FACT he doesn’t push it. She hates when people push things, especially when they’re related to her embarrassment. Jaime’s nice, she thinks, just clamming up about it.

   The waitress comes by, whistling an off - key rendition of Come As You Are, and puts their dishes in front of them with a ‘ there you go and you just tell me if you need anything else, alright? ’. Marked change from her earlier demeanor ; Nora considers the possibility she’s accidentally ensorcelled the woman with her voice. She thanks the waitress, and looks to her breakfast. It looks pretty good ; the fruit’s even fresh, not frozen! Happily, she digs into it.

   “ Mm? ” He asks her something, and Nora looks up, brows raised. She holds up a finger as she swallows the mouthful of waffle. “ Why I’m on holiday? ” She swallows again, more to clear her throat than anything.