@novaxwalkerā
Where was the fucking theaterā¦ Youād think in a place as this seemed to be, it was be a pretty prominent building. But apparently that wasnāt the case. And it was pissing Nova off to no end. After puking her guts out on the boat ride there and suddenly finding out that she had been apparently drop-kicked to the bottom of the food chain, she really could use a bit of time to gather her internal shit. She had passed several people who seemed like they could have been potentially helpful but this didnāt seem like the right time to break her independent streak. Especially since she had more of a reason to not trust people.
God..finally. The brunette breathed out a sigh of relief as she finally spotted the campus theater. She had no idea, and even less fucks to give, if her new āstatusā meant she wasnāt allowed in there. It wasnāt all that hard to find a back door and slip in unnoticed. Finding an empty stage might be harder but it seemed like luck was on her side at last. Sighing, Nova stepped onto the well-worn but polished wood and just let herself drop, collapsing in a heap as she tried to focus on her breathing. She could do this. Because really, now different would it be from her life back home?
Renewed strength finally filled her limbs, as Nova adjusted her hearing aid and pulled up a song on her new phone. As basic as it was, it was nicer than anything she had ever had. Hoodie was then shucked, waist-length hair pulled into a hasty bun. And at last Nova could let herself go in the only way she knew how.
How often Wat sat in his theater, sometimes even in the dark, thinking over the many heās sat in, performed in over the years. Even wrote and directed for over the centuries. How many stage names, how many times heād moved away, lost the company he so dearly enjoyed... because of what he was. It was hard to believe he was sharing this space, the offices as well with Wilder. Improv wasnāt Watās style and he never had the interest to join. Besides that was something Wild could have on his own without Wat, which was good. And Wat simply enjoyed watching Wilder too damn much.Ā
Way back when.
His head lifted as the girl-- a slave-- breezed through the back door, thinking she was sneaky if not for his vampire hearing. She didnāt seem to notice him but he was way off in the last row of the balcony. A small balcony but giving him a view of the entire stage, drawing out set design for āLittle Shop of Horrorsā despite not even posting auditions for the show yet. He often worked grossly out of order to the frustration of all departments. But in the end, the show always went off without a hitch.
The song wasnāt his favorite. Heād much prefer āChandelierā or even āTitaniumā though admittedly they did have very similar qualities. He watched the girl dance and even this far he could tell heād not seen her before. Surely sheād be in Avaās classes. Setting the clipboard aside, Wat transformed into a small brown bat, fluttering down from the balcony towards the stage, landing with a soft squeak of his white Converse shoes. He dressed in dark maroon jeans, and a black shirt reading āMy body is a temple, ancient, crumbling, probably cursed, filled with unspeakable horror.ā A pencil sat behind his ear. He smiled pleasantly to her.
āDance major, I take it?ā
