#emrpevent

Dinah’s brows were knitted together in concentration as she finished stitching up a wound, “Well maybe next time you should think twice before trying to vault over a fence with a ditch behind it. But you’re finished; go back out there and enjoy the festival,” she scolded them before hearing a knock at the door. “Come in,” she called as she turned to look over her shoulder at who was coming in.

“Your dancing is wonderful,” Aalis complimented the young man who had asked her to dance with a wide smile. She had been taking some time to enjoy the spring festivities before some performances later in the day for the people. She let out a laugh as the man spun her quickly, making her go up onto her tiptoes for a moment. That was when everything seemed to dim and her vision was replaced with something else. She stood in a strange stage-like place, twirling on shoes that helped her to stay on her toes, with music that she didn’t recognise. The vision was gone as quickly as it came but it was long enough for her to stop dancing, a look of confusion on her face. “Excuse me,” she told her partner quickly as she dashed out the the square and into one of the small alleyways that ran adjacent. She wasn’t really paying attention to where she was going when she clipped someone’s shoulder, “Sorry!” Aalis exclaimed, apologising quickly. 

“I feel like the axe throwing is a bit too extreme for my liking.” Gale said aloud, watching the other contestants doing their hardest for the prize. Thing was, he could easily do it, but he’d rather have his palm read than act like a barbarian. “Might I accompany you to do an activity, My Lady/My Lord? I feel like I’ll grow roots standing here any longer.” 

The pain jolted every nerve ending, every atom of her wrist, until she fell numb to the overwhelming sensation of it all. Perhaps one might call it adrenaline which overtook her senses, but she had yet to experience the rush equivalent to that found during a hunt. Here there was no thrill, no crimson coating her palms by her own design. While she normally relished in the chaos brought about by the more nefarious creatures lurking in the seedy underbelly of New York, tonight a line had been crossed--- if only out of inconveniencing Sloan temporarily. “Yes, yes, you’re in pain. You’re scared. You’re dying.” Her cadence mocked the ardent cries of those around her, hues scanning each and every face regardless as she searched for one in particular. “Give a gal more to work with and I might be inclined to help.”

"–I’m serious, I bet you twenty bucks he can play Toxic on the cello,” Addison nodded confidently as she watched Yo-Yo Ma several feet away, out of earshot thankfully, talking with some party goers. “If not Toxic then at least Oops I did it again. You should go ask him,” she joked, taking a sip of her drink. The Vale wanted to enjoy tonight without the feeling of constant dread hanging over her, just as she suspected many others did as well.