The Magic Room *Permission Only*

Laverna - Melnarian Princess:

"We do nothing," I muttered, glaring at the floor of the wagon. "What can we do?"

Anzeila sighed and continued to stare at what could be seen of the moon while I glared moodily at the floor of the wagon. I was angry and frustrated, and annoyed. My father was going to be very angry when he got back. I just had to hope that someone saw me get taken.

We must have been sitting there for hours in silence. Something black flashed past, just there in the corner of my eye and I jerked my head up. Was that....Flip's horse? I tried to take a closer look as the horse slid through the trees. No way. It was Anya...but how far were we from Aggar? She couldn't have gone too far from home without Flip...

"Anzeila," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the horse. "How far away is Aggar?"

She glanced at me, frowning. "Um, close? Why?"

"Anya," I said. "Flip's horse... You know, that stable boy I used to talk to, back when we were younger?" Anzeila and her brother stared at me and I sighed. "Nevermind then," I muttered and returned to staring at floor of the wagon.

I wasn't going to ponder on that too much. If Anya was here, Flip couldn't be too far behind. It was only a matter of time now. Shaking my head, I looked up to see Tathiel leaving the caravan, his hair neatly trimmed and showing nothing singed. Well, well, well. If it wasn't the Snake.

Flip

As I ride through the forest on Winter, as I later identified the horse, my mind slowly begins to wander. Winter's skin is warm against mine, and his neck is awfully comfortable to lean into. I bury my chin in his short mane and watch lazily as the trees speed by. The wind is somehow soothing...

Winter whinnies and rears, knocking me off his back, though I keep hold of the reins. When I stand to see what upset him, I notice a small rabbit hop into the bushes. I chuckle at the cause, and stroke Winter's neck soothingly. "I say it's time to rest for the night, eh boy?" In response, he lays on the ground. "Okay then!" I tie his reins to a near branch, and while I do something through the trees catches my eye. It looks like a wagon.

Curious, I walk closer to investigate. I hear someone shuffling in there, and I look inside, hoping not to be seen. A girl's back twists around just as I duck. Close call. "Who's there?" Okay, I guess not.

"Shit," I mutter. "Wait..." That voice sounds painfully familiar. "Lav, is that you?"

"Flip? Hey," she answers back, sounding much less surprised than I'd have thought.

"What are you doing here?"

Laverna waves away the question by saying, "Long story."

"By any chance...have you seen Anya?" I ask. May as well, while I'm here.

"I saw her pass here earlier," she replies. Dammit, I missed her.

Alba~

Alba knew them all. Each and everyone of the royalty. Damn her father for being the Aggar ambassador. Damn him to hell. So many friendships had been made between Alba herself and these captives. Her father was the Aggar ambassador, and her mother a Lazzan medicine woman. Lord, so many connections and such pain. They wouldn't recognize her, she was sure. Her eye color had been altered over the years with medicine magic, and she'd died her blonde hair to a ebony black. Rustic suddenly ran up to her side, his tail going a hundred miles and hour. Since she was fifteen, Rustic had followed her absolutely everywhere. Besides Aisha, he was the one true friend Alba had when she first became part of the caravan.

She had named him Rustic, as he seemed to be an unsophistocated country mutt. He hated to be bathed, brushed, and sometimes even sprayed with a fine flower scented mist. He also loved to intterupt Alba when she sung. Always howling along with her songs. Alba had given up her singing with the mutt around, but he seemd calmer today than usual, so hey, why not give it a try? Alba grabbed her violin and, pulling herself atop the lead covered cart, she gazed up into the sky. Aggar was just over the horizon. Taking in a sharp breath and beginning to play her violin, she let the harmony flow out of her lips.

"When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;
When troubles come and my heart burdened be;
Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,
Until you come and sit awhile with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;
You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;
I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;
You raise me up: To more than I can be."

As she sung, Alba danced across the line of caravans. A heavy silence had fallen over the large group. Even the captives seemed to be quiet. When Alba had finished her song, she was standing on the caravan holding the captives. A new face was there, one not even tied up. Alba laid her violin down and simply stepped off the back of the wagon, landing daintily on the ground with nothing but a small thud. None seemed to show any recognition of her. "You're from Aggar, correct?" She arched an eyebrow at the new boy. He had a cute little hair cut, unruly and long. Something to accept from something like a stable boy, and seeing as he was looking for a horse, that had to be what he was. "You're horse is on the east side of the clearing. My dog is over there now, but he won't hurt her, I promise you."

The boy nodded once, his eyes betraying his mask of seeming to be totally sure of himself. "Princesses, Prince, I suggest you get some sleep." Alba looked over at them, arching an eyebrow at the suspicious looks they were each giving her. "And you," she directed back to the stable boy, "You can stay, as we're going to Aggar anyway in the morning. No funny buisness though," she swallowed hard. She wasn't used to talking alone. "There will always be eyes watching this wagon, just so you all know." She crossed her arms and ran a hand through her hair. "What do you all want to eat? We're limited, so don't think we'll have something extravagant. It's my job to feed you all." With that said, Alba sat on the front of the wagon behind her, arching an eyebrow as she waited.

Anzeila

As much as I wanted to stay mad at every person (minus my wonderful brother and Laverna of course), I couldn't help but feel a tad greatful. I was starving, but did I dare admit it? I averted my gaze to the 'stableboy' that had just recently been introduced as the Flip Laverna had been talking about earlier.

From him I glanced back to the mountains. We would be at the palace within an hour or two, and once we were there, we were trapped for life. Slavery...what was that like? Was it all whips and shouting overseers, or was it like in those stories...with the kindly man and his wife who ruled fairly?

I kept my eyes on the mountains as my eyes filled with tears. I didn't let them fall of course, they just sat there.

"We'll just have whatever I suppose," I heard Baron answer.

The girl sighed. "That's really specific," she muttered. But she got up and left anyways, which I was thankful for.

I blinked away the tears and turned around again, narrowing my eyes at Blondey. He was staring at us, well, at Flip. He had something hidden behind his back, which automatically had me suspisous.

Tathiel

I strode towards the cart quickly, glaring at our little new-comer the whole time. I pulled the two outfits from behind my back and flung them at the girls. "You two will be coming with me to the caravan in a couple minutes. I'm sure Aisha will help you get into those."

They both pulled a face. I chuckled and turned to the stable-boy. "I don't know who you are, but I promise you, if you pull anything there will be a blade in your chest before you have time to blink." I walked around the side of the cart and took the girls' ropes. "Take your outfits and let's go."

Warrior princess looked like she would be absolutely thrilled to claw my eyeballs out, and I hardly blamed her. I raised my eyebrows and nodded at her outfit. She took it slowly, still glaring at me like I was Lucifer himself. Of cousre, in her mind, I was probably pretty close.

Aisha jumped from the cart, shooting the outfits a disdainful look. I mouthed a not now, which earned me a scowl. I sighed and turned, leading them back to the caravan. While the girls were getting dressed, I'd have to talk to Alba about how we weren't going to be allowing any more random beings to wander into the caravans.

Aisha

My eye twitched. So I, with the corded body and the athlete's physique, could wear long pants and whatever tops I chose, and they, with soft and curvy shapes and such... femaleness it made me sad, had to wear those? Tathiel was getting a grilling as soon as I got out. Truce over.

"Princess, mind helping the Princess?" He was proud of his play on words. I, being Aisha, was obligated to burst his bubble.

"There's two." I deadpanned. His face fell.

"Oh, um, I meant Missy Warrior."

"Also two."

"Oh, for god's sake, Ai! Just help the one that looks ready to explode!"

I nodded slowly. "You mean Princess Anzeila? They do have names, you know."

"OH, WHATEVER!"

I tucked my lips under my teeth to keep from laughing and took the brown haired one's arm. "In this one here, the red one."

"Why's that? Is there a guard already in there?" Her voice was so full of venom, I almost wanted to untie her, since apparently, her binds were too tight.

"Uh, no. It's where I'm usually staying, and I've got a few things that-"

"Could make me look even more like-"

"Princess. Just go inside, alright? I still have my poi, lighter, and more than a few gallons of fuel. And you owe me. For the scarves. Because honestly, I could very well have slit your throat, or just put rusty chains on you like Tathiel wanted me to."

Before she can speak, I throw her over my shoulder and duck into the red caravan. Unlike the faded, haunted looking maroon one that Tathiel insisted we keep Desert Queen in, my well oiled scarlet one was lit with gold-glowing lamps, had patched quilts over a set of bunks (since Tathiel insisted either he or Alba sleep in the caravan with me to ensure I didn't spontaneously combust), and had a vanity with phosphorous paint designs, intricate and glowing in the dark, all over it.

I untied her carefully. "Nightdress," I said, nodding to the bottom bunk.

"No! So I can put on this... thing?"

"It's not too bad," I told her sternly. I'd seen the dancers in Swaria wear far worse.

"Then why don't you wear it?"

"You really don't get it, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Princess, do you realize that if I wore that, I'd look like a barbarian? A tribal warrior, come to reclaim her land? I'd make children cry, make men grab their swords, make women tsk and giggle."

"Your point?"

"I'm not pretty, Princess!" I almost clamp a hand over my mouth, but I need to prove a point. "You are. You could pull this off in a heartbeat, make every man in the world your slave in seconds." Sensing the bitter comment here, I quickly continued. "Just wear it, Princess, and know that you're more beautiful than I'll ever be."

I hold out the outfit.

Anzeila

I sighed loudly, and took the outfit. she seriously thought I was beautiful? I knew I wasn't ugly or anything, but I had always thought that the fact I was who I was had all the boys swooning, not my looks. Being the chief's daughter had its perks after all.

"There's one problem with that," I muttered, giving the outfit another thorough look-over and pursing my lips.

"Oh? And what's that?"

I looked up at the girl, Aisha. "I'll be the boys slave. Do you have any idea how much worse that is? Add outfits like this to the pile..." I trailed off, hoping that my eyes wouldn't start tearing over again. This was aweful. Absolutely the worst thing that had ever happened to me before.

Aisha turned and grabbed something from a drawer under the vanity. "Take it. Cover up some. I know what this feels like, trust me, I lived in Swaria, and I'll try to help, I promise," she said softy, turning and handing me a cloak.

I blinked and took it, honestly not sure what to think. "Why?"

She looked up. "Why what?"

"You wake me up, take me from my tribe, tie me to a cart...you're going to end up selling me; but you're still helping." This girl was confusing me, majorly.

"Because I can."

I sighed, motioning for her to turn around. She may have been female and she may have been helping me, but she was still enemy. As far as I was concerned anyways. You could give a cave full of treasure and jewels and it still wouldn't be enugh to turn me.

I slipped out of my dress as a lump formed in my throat. My last bit of the Lazzan tribe, and I had no idea what would become of it. I pulled on the skirt quickly, then the top and then the cloak. This outfit was itchy! Damn Blondey. To the pit with him.

Aisha

I counted to twenty one thousands.

"You done?"

"Yeah."

I turned around. She didn't look bad at all, and I only saw a glimpse of it before the old patchwork cloak that was now too small for me was thrown over it.

"Tath's not gonna be happy with me," I muttered. He wasn't. 'We need to fetch a good price for their beauty, and you cover it up? Idiot Aisha.' Yeah, well.

"And you care why?"

I sucked in my breath. "He's my partner. I respect him, he respects me."

"Didn't seem like it."

"Oh, hush up and give me that dress." I snatched it up from the bed, and then she was lunging for my throat.

"OI!" I dodged aside, grabbed an orb, lit it, and clamped the wire around my palm, holding the fireball in front of me. "I'm just... going... to put it... in here." Slowly, I slid the dress into the vanity and lowered the fire orb. "Sit on the bed."

She did. I let out my breath. "I'm changing now."

"Why?"

"We're close to the city. I'll have to perform." I smiled widely.

"Perform."

"You'll see."

She nodded sarcastically. I swiftly changed into a performance outfit; this time it was deep purple pants that hugged my thighs and flowed around my calves, slit up the sides to the knee, and a rather cool strapless shirt in that same purple that was made of sheer, gauzy fabric from a half inch below my bust down, and opaque, intricately stitched above that. I pulled flowy, gauzy sleeves up my arms, with silver silk cuffing the tops, and fixed my wings up with that.

Hoping the princess wouldn't stab my back, I began work on my face paint.

Cities were my favorite.

Sorry if this isn't good enough. I'm sorta lost, so I hope this is OK!

~Selene~

I was walking through the halls of the grand palace, daydreaming no doubt. I had a lot on my mind, but you get used to it wen you work here as a servant for a queen. I wanted to do something, to get out and push myself more than I'd ever pushed myself before. The urge to run pulsed through my legs and I felt the adrenaline kicking in. I barely went outside, and when I did, it wasn't to run, that was for sure.

I couldn't help myself, I had to do something, so I pulled off my apron, throwing it down as I began running down the halls smiling. It felt good to work my muscles like this, and I just knew I wouldn't be able to do this in a long time.

Maybe it was my laughing, maybe it was the tears from laughing, but I couldn't see exactly where I was going, until I ran into someone and fell. I looked up to see who I'd run into, not happy with who it was. Terron, the queen and I had all met up in the cross ways of the hall, and collided. This could be fun--the dark frown on her face proved that.

~Queen Zashia~

I glared down at the maid who had just ran into me, making the old man spill whatever he had in his hands on my beautiful sky blue dress. She was getting it. Selene--I think that was it?--was laying on her back on the floor, eyes apologetic.

"What do you think you're doing, running these halls?!" I yelled. "And where the hell is your apron? Is that my ring?!" I spotted the silver and diamonds on her right hand. "It is, you thief!" I snatched her up by the arm, shaking her and looking her in the eyes.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run into you," she stuttered. I snorted at her, looking her over. She was going to really pay for this.

Alba~

Alba padded behind the last caravan slowly, getting the meals together for the group. Rustic was prancing beside her, his ruffled head swaying from side to side at the smallest sound. All Alba wanted to do was get the money, and get out of the royal parts of Aggar as fast as possible. She prayed her father wouldn't be anywhere within seeing distance. Their last meeting hadn't gone over too well. Alba sighed and set the food down on the caravan, sitting down and swinging her feet over the side. Maybe she'd leave the group after she got the money. Buy a horse, and take Rustic and just roam until old age. Ever since she was a little girl Alba feared being alone. She was terrorfied of silence, and loneliness. She even recalled wanting so many children that she'd never get lonely.

"It's all a dream though, ay Rus?" The dog looked up at the sound of his name. "Big family, happiness, a handsome husband who comes home on time, and doesn't stay out past moonfall with his buddies." Rustic barked shrilly, huffing out a growl. "No, you're wrong Rustic... I'm not like any other girl. I'd do everyone a favor just getting away from h-"

"Ahem," Alba looked up at the new face, raising an eyebrow at the blonde man.

"Can I help you Tathiel?" Alba's arched eyebrows arched even farther when a smug scowl crossed Tathiel's features.

"Actually, can you be for vigilant with strangers around the caravan? That's your job, is it not?" Alba, now, was standing, a glare hard on her features. Tathiel liked to believe he was in charge of absolutely everything. Come to think of it, it'd been a long time since Alba yelled at somebody. She, however, composed herself before looking a fool, and bit her lip, pulling her hat down over her eyebrows, glaring at the young man who was merely three years older than herself.

Rather than yelling, Alba took up her sarcasm that she was famous for. "Oh dear," she put up a worried escapade and grabbed up the bowls of chowder with a small sliver of bread, "I thought that a stable boy would be alright with you, almighty." She bowed. "Forgive me, please have mercy on my soul. I didn't mean to be so lenient with the boy. I'm sorry sire, so, so sorry sire." She let the bowl she'd put out for herself slip between her fingers and land on Tathiel's only pair of nice shoes.

Uh oh...

Hiding a smile, Alba looked up at Tathiel, cocking an eyebrow. She really didn't want his crap today, as it was not the day for her.

Tathiel

Ridiculous. Absolutely completetly ridiculous. That would never come out of my shoes, and I was going to be meeting royaltybright and early tomorrow morning! Heck, I could see the sun rising now...wait. That was bad. That was very, very bad. The sun rises, the tribes wake up. The tribes wake up, they notice their beloved children gone.

Then again, we had made some ground. No way would they be able to reach us if we got moving again. Quickly. So, back to being mad about my shoes.

I glared at Alba, copletely despising her smug expression, her smug tone. Alba had been with us for longer than Blake had, you'd think she's be smart enough to refrain from ticking me off.

"First of all," I hissed, teeth gritted, "the stableboy is not fine. Not fine because he might attempt to help our captives out. Not fine because quite frankly my dear, you could turn your back and find that your throat has been slit by none other than the strange stableboy that you let on the carriage." I took a breath, trying to keep myself from shouting, though I can't say why. Shouting was what I really wanted to do. "Second of all, the cost of these shoes is coming out of your share of whatever amount of money we earn."

Her eyebrow rose higher. What? Did she expect me to smack her or something? As tempting as it was, I hadn't got over the guilt of almost hitting Aisha.

She opened her mouth finally. Too late, I was done. I cut her off before she had the first syllableo out. "Take the girls and Blake their food and do not pull another stunt like that." I grabbed my own bowl, hesitated for about a millisecond and grabbed a bowl for Ai before turning on my heel and storming away, trying to ignore the fact that my toes were burning. Chowder was hot.

I caught up with the caravan that Ai and that little brute were in and jumped onto the ledge, knocking on the wood. "Are you two done in there?" I called.

"Yeah, we're done," Aisha muttered. She didn't sound excessively happy. Again.

I sighed and stepped into the wagon, handing her her bowl. A frown spread across my face. "Why is she wearing your old cloak?" I asked, trying not to sound angry.

She ignored me. "What happened to your shoes?"

"Long story," I muttered. "Why is she wearing that thing?"

Anzeila

I took a breath, trying to calm myself. There was nothing in the world I would rather do that snatch his dagger from his belt and slit his throat. Of course, I chose not to underestimate him. Besdies, if I did that, I would probably tick off fire-head over there.

"She has a name," I hissed.

He arched an eyebrow. "Why is Anzeila wearing that thing?" I had officially decided I hated the man's accent. It was purely annoying in every possible way.

"Because the outfit you gave me was insulting," I muttered, just as Aisha was about to speak. She sighed, leaned against the wall and rolled her eyes.

Blondey snorted. "Insulting. Ri-ight. You're going to have to take it off when we get to the palace, you do realize."

"Yes."

He turned to Aisha, seeming to soften slightly. Well this was interesting, he apparently didn't hate her. Apparently wasn't using her in some unfathomable way that I didn't bother thinking about. He actually a heart judging by the apologetic way he looked at her. Bizarre.

"Where's Desert Queen?" he asked.

Aisha shrugged. "I thought she was with Alba."

Tathiel frowned, I smirked. "I was just over there. She isn't there."

I chuckled and crossed my arms behind my cloak. For the time being, I was very amused. It was nice to get my mind off of what was going to happen and watch Blondey worry about this and that.

"Is she...back on the cart?" Aisha suggested.

"Well, if she's not there she'll be long gone," I announced happily.

Blondey turned and glared at me. "Oh? I'm quite sure she's smarter than that. Ai, would you take her back to the cart?"

Aisha

I nodded. I could've thrown in a snide remark, and I quite felt like it, but after our... experience in the caravan (god blast his hugs), I was treading in hot water.

"Princess, this way." I said. I tilted my head, and Tathiel raised an eyebrow.

"What? She doesn't need chains." I said, rather coldly, and then I was helping Anzeila down.

"His accent really does get on my nerves," I mumbled to Anzeila. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm Swarian, I thought I said that. Swarian versus Aggarian accents?"

She made a sharp, one syllable noise that sounded almost like a laugh. I sat back in the cart with her. "Tathiel's strict about... about this." I said. My igniter was dangerously near her hand- I wasn't taking chances.

"Will... will I really have to take it off?"

"No, don't worry about that. That you're Aggarian will be enough." I can't catch my tongue, and I apologize immediately. "I didn't mean -really, I don't-"

"No, I get it." The tiniest ounce of warmth in her voice was gone.

"Alright, just keep the cloak on and don't do anything stupid."

"How do you know what's right?"

"Swaria's a dirty place, Princess. I've seen slave sellings. I've been in a few. The girls who keep their heads down don't get bought as quick, but with your status..." My voice trailed off. I knew that she knew I couldn't help her now. I was glad when she changed the subject.

"So... nice outfit."

I glanced down and beamed. "My makeup's okay, then?"

"It looks... unreal. Unearthly."

I beamed wider. "Perfect."

Unlike Tathiel's shoes. Wonderful. That'd be coming out of all our pay. At least I didn't have to pay for clothes. These were my older sister's; she had died of fever when I was four. I did like her, though, I knew that, and I also knew that I didn't fill the clothes out half as well as she did.

Oh, Maritza. If only you could see what I was wearing your clothes to do now.

It was ordered by dear Lady Ninja that I post on this lovely story book. But I've no idea what's going on. Could someone help me pull a Victor Frankenstein? Cough, cough, Ninja this means you, cough, cough.

Blake: The next day: Everyone else is off to meet the royals

I could feel myself falling. What a horrible way to wake, falling face first onto dry, hard dirt.
"Ow," I groaned into the earth. Standing, I brushed off my clothes with one hand and held my nose with the other. "Hey, does anybody have a towel?" No reply. Frowning, I walked around and peaked into the caravan. Empty. "Don't tell me they- But they wouldn't!" I glanced around quickly, my eyes settling on a building I've never seen before. You'd think they'd be kind enough to wake me if I was sleep-sterring. Some teammates. Mumbling profanities, I held up the bottom of my shirt to my nose and headed off to find the rest of the crew.


((Don't kill me for this, I'm just trying to find my way again.))

Tathiel

"Are you sure we should just leave Blake behind?" Alba asked, voice riddled with irritatation. She apparently hadn't gotten over herself yet.

"He'll catch up," I grumbled, pulling Anzeila's veils down. All three were dressed in heavy black cloaks, hoods and veils. They weren't taking them off until we made it to the palace for obvious reasons. "Don't get to comfortable in there, any of you," I hissed.

"Tathiel," Aisha said warningly. I hated that tone...

I sighed. "Fine. Who's going to go back and get him then?" Aisha's eyebrow arched and her arms folded stubbornly across her chest. "For the love of Aggar, fine! Stay here and don't keep hold of these three." To the stable-boy Alba had let on the caravan yesterday, "You cause any trouble what so ever and I will skin you alive." I turned on my heel and made my way back towards the caravans.

The only reason we had left Blake behind in the first place was because he had absolutely refused to wake up. The man must have been tired. Trust me, I tried to wake him up, it just couldn't be done.

"Blake!" I hollered, hand cupped around my mouth. I probably didn't need to shout, but it felt good to be loud and get it all out now. "Blake! Get out here!"

Anzeila

Veils. I hated them almost as much as I hated skimpy outfits. The limited your vision, or at least made it harder to see. Of course, I was thankful for the giant cloak. It was much bigger than Fire Pit's and tied together in the front at my waist.

"Baron?" I asked quietly, trying to hide the face that I was quivering underneath all of this material.

"Hmm?"

I settled a bit and my trembling seemed to subside. His voice sounded so calm, but then, there's Baron for you. "Nothing," I muttered. I hadn't been sure of what I was going to say, I just needed to hear a familiar voice. He had hardly spoken a word since arriving in Aggar.

Laverna was talking to Flip, so I left well enough alone. I wasn't sure what I'd say to her either. Fire Pit and Alba were whispering, which for some odd reason pissed me off. Not that I could do anything about it, seeing as my hands were bound and Fire Pit was holding the rope.

I could cry, nobody could see me behind my veils. Holding the tears back seemed pointless anyway. They fell down my cheeks silently. I didn't dare let my shoulders heave or any sound to escape. That would be a catastrophic event. Anzeila, the 'fearless' Lazzan princess crying because she got captured by some ungreatful freaks from the desert. No thank you.

Aisha

"D'you really think Tath could stay mad for this long?" Alba asked. I gave her the wanna-bet eyebrow.

"How long have we known Tathiel again? Of course he can, Albs." I muttered. Then- a hand in the air, a "ch-ch" to call a halt. Not that we were going anywhere. I took three steps over to Anzeila and touched her veil. A layer of wetness made my fingertip cold, and I folded my arms.

"Princess?" I glanced over my shoulder. No glimpse of blonde. I flipped her veil back and tucked it under her hood, then repeated it for her brother and friend. I rubbed some dirt on their faces, some ash from the bottom of my bag as well. As Anzeila coughed and spit, I dodged and stepped next to Alba again.

I worked my arms back and forth a few times, just to stretch and get the kinks out of my wings. My makeup was still applied studiously, and the gauzy sleeves swirled slightly around my arms. My tattoos were showing faintly through the sheer stretch of fabric, the embroidered bust section, with its silver thread, shimmering. My pants from the calf down were twirling and rippling with each step, and... and, well, I was ready to perform when we had to.

Which would hopefully be soon.