#levereted

“ Oh, no... ” She whispers, though whisper escalates in volume as she covers her eyes and sinks to the ground, hiding her face in her knees. “ N-no, no no no no no!! ” An edge of panic slips into her voice as she mutters to herself in the middle of the street, in plain earshot of the young photographer, “ I don’t... I don’t have my notes!! Wh-what am I going to say?! I-I-I have nothing to say...!! ”

The coming of spring ushered in good weather, and one young girl stood in the sunny park trying to snap a picture of a bluebird perched on a branch. Her face was the picture of concentration as she held up her phone and inched closer, but the arrival of a stranger at an inopportune time caused the animal to take flight just before the shutters closed. 

“It ran away...”

Echo examined her empty photo, not disappointed. She’d upload it to her ‘photo blog’ on the ‘internet’ and ‘tag’ it #bird, because wasn’t that how people wrote their journal entries in this day and age?

“Lo behold!”

The Theatre of Shadows was a truly strange and mysterious place, with an equally strange and mysterious owner. A man who could conjure shadows as if they were alive, strange shapes that shifted and shape upon the stage all for the delight and terror of the audience.

To say that Maxwell enjoy the attention would be an understatement. He absolutely was addicted to it. To hear the throngs of cheering crowds, the oohs and awws, the shrieks of terror in-between such wonderful scenes, it was quite marvelous.

And how indeed the tricks of having these shadowy creatures dance along the walls now, the lights following as they swam through the air before returning to the puppet master’s book. Many people questioned what sort of mechanism was behind these tricks. But all that mattered was having people’s attention.

To: Velvet Scarlatina

From: Blake Belladonna

(txt): Velvet?

(txt): Hey, I’m sorry to bother you. But I was just thinking... Maybe we both need some company after... That.

(txt): My house is in sector five if you would like to stop by. 

(txt): If you’re busy though, I completely understand.

     Was she a taguel? Looked similar with the ears but not much else really indicated that she was. And it’s not like Severa could just straight out ask her about it. There was only one thing she could do. “You! Stop right where you are! I need to have a word with you!”

because she might be fine just as she is. nodding her head to the music, highly acoustic but not lacking in feeling. figuring out when she wants to bob her head.

“do you know how to dance?” he keeps a drink in his hand and starts to jive in a way only men 30 and up will, - but he’s more loyal to the beat. 

“you just have to get into it.”

levereted