Post by Maura Arizona on Oct 31, 2009 16:03:13 GMT -5
(( what she wears ))
Her pale hands smoothing the ruffles of her dress, Maura looked up through the glass of the window. Outside were hundreds of people: smiling, laughing, maybe even dancing a bit. She had no idea, for behind the glass, everything was playing like a silent movie to her. Her fingers curled against the glass, wanting to go outside. Taking a moment, she inhaled fully, hands on her belly, and she pushed through the door to the festival on Main Street.
She had guessed right: people were dancing, grinning, cheering, having fun. Seeing a few familiar faces, she gave them a polite smile and went about, her heels clacking against the pavement of the dark street. Being nowhere near desk, it was believed these were only early arrivals, although it was a perfectly crowded walkway. Sliding in between people, Maura looked up and saw the painted, red and black banner. Per i vivi, it said. To the living.
This was a celebration of what they learned. Sure, people hated it, but it went on none the less for the people who enjoyed it. The festival would last until all the leaves were gone, and everything had basically turned back into the ashen surroundings of Lestrange's, or the polite flower boxes of Tea&Cream. Everyone went back to their places, their jobs, their responsibilities, and their reasons for being where they were. Looking off, she saw the boy from a few weeks ago and gave him a weak, almost heartbroken smile. She felt bad for the wanderers. This was always the hardest part for them.
But that wasn't why she was there. No, the reason, in fact, was because of her interning. Misses Dillimonde had noticed how good she was on her feet, especially in heels all day. She lightly suggested she try out to be one of the many dancers for the festival, entertaining others. Not thinking much of it, yet curious all the same, she debated going to the audition until it came to that day. Three days later, she'd gotten a letter in the mail, stating they wanted her. Terribly.
However, what they did make her aware of were two things. One: she would be entertaining men in the evening, however the guest wanted. And two (which, they only told her after number one when she threw a fit): she could not back out of it, even if she wanted to. Feeling an older male slide his arm down her skin, she turned to slap him, but did nothing but close her eyes and sigh. Continuing on, she tried to forget about the evening and focus on the sun ahead of her. Heading down to the stage, through the costumes and laughter and song, she smiled.
And her heart pumped so hard, you would think her corpse would rise and dance as well down Below.
Her pale hands smoothing the ruffles of her dress, Maura looked up through the glass of the window. Outside were hundreds of people: smiling, laughing, maybe even dancing a bit. She had no idea, for behind the glass, everything was playing like a silent movie to her. Her fingers curled against the glass, wanting to go outside. Taking a moment, she inhaled fully, hands on her belly, and she pushed through the door to the festival on Main Street.
She had guessed right: people were dancing, grinning, cheering, having fun. Seeing a few familiar faces, she gave them a polite smile and went about, her heels clacking against the pavement of the dark street. Being nowhere near desk, it was believed these were only early arrivals, although it was a perfectly crowded walkway. Sliding in between people, Maura looked up and saw the painted, red and black banner. Per i vivi, it said. To the living.
This was a celebration of what they learned. Sure, people hated it, but it went on none the less for the people who enjoyed it. The festival would last until all the leaves were gone, and everything had basically turned back into the ashen surroundings of Lestrange's, or the polite flower boxes of Tea&Cream. Everyone went back to their places, their jobs, their responsibilities, and their reasons for being where they were. Looking off, she saw the boy from a few weeks ago and gave him a weak, almost heartbroken smile. She felt bad for the wanderers. This was always the hardest part for them.
But that wasn't why she was there. No, the reason, in fact, was because of her interning. Misses Dillimonde had noticed how good she was on her feet, especially in heels all day. She lightly suggested she try out to be one of the many dancers for the festival, entertaining others. Not thinking much of it, yet curious all the same, she debated going to the audition until it came to that day. Three days later, she'd gotten a letter in the mail, stating they wanted her. Terribly.
However, what they did make her aware of were two things. One: she would be entertaining men in the evening, however the guest wanted. And two (which, they only told her after number one when she threw a fit): she could not back out of it, even if she wanted to. Feeling an older male slide his arm down her skin, she turned to slap him, but did nothing but close her eyes and sigh. Continuing on, she tried to forget about the evening and focus on the sun ahead of her. Heading down to the stage, through the costumes and laughter and song, she smiled.
And her heart pumped so hard, you would think her corpse would rise and dance as well down Below.
