❝Maybe– –❞He mused as he pouted his lip feigning thought. Despite being a man of oath even he couldn’t escape the mortal coil of conceit. He was a liar. A well accomplished one. But one couldn’t blame him when faced with his circumstance. Listening to her considering her… field of work painted her not that different than the common man; ‘’Just doing whatever to get by’’, if it paid well, who could possibly blame them? Who but he. He considered it the thought of modern slaves. Profiting utmost from their position, probably too afraid to risk it all for change… Or wasn’t she? He had to discover that, for he felt a drive in her unlike any other.
Yet another charismatic smile scorched his visage. One that spelled provocative without a single word being uttered. ❝Save me the bullshit.❞ He spoke with a blunt, merciless tone. Such reasoning perhaps worked for the common fan, but he was unlike any she came across. ❝Such passion, you can’t fake that. Money surely can’t motivate that. You sing becauseTHATSwhat you do. That’s who you are meant to be.❞ Just like he, was meant to be free.
A TOUCH OF ANGER mars her countenance as he counters her. SHE FEELS DELIBERATELY MISINTERPRETED ; the one time she doesn’t over - explain, and it results in this.
“ I didn’t deny, ” Nora states, tone frosty. “ that I liked singing. You’re right in that it is my passion, and I’m very lucky to be able to do it for money. You’re the one who just asked me why I ‘ wasted my time ’ with entertaining – and I told you I do it for money. ” Her expression is stony. “ I can’t live off of singing to myself in my apartment. ”
She sips at her bellini. “ I want you to tell me why you’re really here, Mr. Jericho. I find that as I get older I’m getting less and less tolerant of just talk. ” Words in a circle, conversations meaning nothing. “ It’s late, you know. I’d like to get home. So you ought to make this quick. ”
A while ago I made a post to assist the Jewish community as a whole following a hateful act of violence against their synagogue by creating a thread of local Jewish organizations to donate to from all over the world. It’s time for us to take action again.
The Muslim community has been enduring great suffering and frequent tragedy for ages. In light of the attack in NZ, if your mosque or local Muslim resource group has a donation page please reblog and add a link so that I can boost it!!
If you can’t donate, please reblog this or share the donation pages added to this post to twitter, facebook, or anywhere that will help them be seen by someone who can.
EDIT: The link included in the older version of this post turned out to be a fraudulent one. DO NOT DONATE TO IT. Here are the official donation pages.
Glassy tears coated with toxic varnish emphasized agony and acceptance. The portrait enveloped two figures: a common woman gouging her dagger into the split forehead of a weeping man who lay on his back, restrained. It was deemed irreplaceable, sought out by fine art collectors worldwide—a number of which who showed themselves tonight to vaunt steep culture. Wasteful.
Hisoka crossed the dim, vacant gallery after having seen enough, soon rejoining his group inside a theater space. Singers whose lyrics left him feeling even more turned off circulated the stage. Grievously trimmed nails reached up to adjust his tie midsong. His hand twitched. “…Oh?” Again. “Was I always this jittery?” He glanced up, an unsettling curve splitting his mouth as he looked the current singer in the eye.
SECURITY DETAIL ISN’T ALWAYS a thankless job. Of course, this is a special case. The Lanmi Art Gala gets many rich visitors, and it’s quite the task to entertain and protect them all. Helps that Nora can do both ; sing, all while keeping an eye on the crowd for anyone not on the guest list.
And speak of the devil. A man so distinctive she wonders if he even tried to blend in ; tall, strikingly handsome, hair a brilliant red. A sharp - eared listener might pick up a change in Layla’s song, a subtle edge to the sung words.
But it doesn’t work.
She doesn’t panic. Perhaps he’s of a particularly strong mind. She sings with the sharpness of a blade now, and notes that the visitors closest to her begin to look faintly uncomfortable, despite the fact that she’s not directing the sentiment at them.
A lull in her words, thrown off - guard as she is, but Nora recovers so quickly that one could be forgiven for thinking the slip was intentional. Mars, her colleague, is watching her ; holding an arm just behind her back, she taps her pinkie and thumb together several times. The agreed - upon signal for threat from intruder.
She finishes her song and out the corner of her eye watches Mars move away to the PA system, bowing as the audience claps. Mars’ booming voice rings out over the speakers ; “ Ladies and gentlemen, this is an emergency announcement. We’ve just received notification that dangerous intruders are in the gallery. ” Gasps of shock, a shriek. “ Please proceed in an orderly fashion to the emergency exits ; you’ll be escorted by our security personnel. ” People start moving, and Nora’s eyes flick from the man to a table of crystal glasses. Shame she has to ruin such nice things.
A shriek rips from her mouth, shattering the glasses into pieces. She was careful to simply direct the sound wave at the table as opposed to just shouting ; conserves strength, as well as avoids damaging the ears of the audience. A wordless tune warbles from her lips, and the shards begin to hover.
“ There’s nothing I can offer to make you leave? ” she says tunefully. “ I’m sure I could work something out with my employer. ”
❝ THE ENCORE, of course, ❞ He spoke with a grin scorching his visage. Was there any reason he remained her in his lonesome? Probably not, other than him being drawn to her voice that is. A soft chuckle escaped him as he heard her name. Yeah, it was what the signs said, but obviously a pseudonym.
Her stage name, it wasn’t any different than any of the aliases he had. Sometimes he was Leonardo, sometimes he was Donatello, other times he was Michaelangelo– – mostly Rafael. But today, today he was himself. ❝ Jericho… You can call me that. ❞ Leisurely he took a gulp from his drink and thereby emptying it. Yet another refill awaited him, this time, however, he took his time to inspect her from up close. She was but a few years younger than he was, it was hard to say. Despite being longer than most women he knew she had a doll like touch to her to her face. ❝ Or Maybe… – –Maybe it was because I can’t fathom. I can’t fathom why you waste your time… With them. ❞
“ JERICHO. IS THAT YOUR REAL NAME? ” she quips, one brow arching. It’s sharp, yes, but he’s a big guy. He can handle it.
Andrea passes by and places her drink on the table. “ Your bellini, princess, ” he teases, and Nora flips him off with a smirk. The man’s eyes turn to the other, expression considerably cooler. “ You know, we are past closing time. ”
“ He’s talking with me, Andrea. It’s alright. ”
“ Ahh,
Miss Layla can never resist conversation with her fans. But I’m not
refilling that glass, pal. I don’t get paid for anything I do past two. ” He turns on his heel and paces away. Nora rolls her eyes, though his ultimatum is fair.
She regards Jericho levelly. He appears older than her, maybe in his
late twenties. His features are sharp, thrown into stark relief by the
shadows of the lounge, lined in a way that is all too common these days – the common man has much that ages him. Raven - haired, with strange, striking amber eyes. He isattractive, in a rough - hewn sort of way.
She sips her drink. “ With who? Oh … do you mean the patrons? ” A wry smile. “ I think you’re mistaking my line of work, Mister. I’m here to sing, and nothing else. ” Not that she had any contempt for a woman working as a … lady of the night. It was a job that required a fair amount of determination, to be sure.
A clink of the glass on the table as she sets it down. “ Even if I did engage in that line of work, I wouldn’t do it because I wanted to ‘ waste my time ’. ” Air quotes with her fingers. “ I would do it because I wanted to get paid. We’re all trying to make money, Mr. Jericho, and that’s why I sing. ”
Slanted hues softly widen and lips pucker. Had she had less self-restaint, she would’ve cooed at the sight of the strawberry patterned dress! It was so cute! A quick step forward is taken and hands are already outstretched to feel the texture of the clothing, interest clearly piqued. “ I like it. ” If it weren’t for the little strawberries, she would’ve swatted the dress away without a care in a world!
She wants to try it on… where were WEGO’s fitting rooms? Lustrous mane bounces as she turns her head to and fro to locate any nearby employee, only to be stopped short from the display of the dress that Nora wished to buy for herself.
“ That’s cute. ” Yukako comments, fingers still playing with the frilled skirt of her dress… look at her, claiming ownership over it already!
NORA BEAMS, clearly pleased that her friend appreciates the dress. Well, what can she say – she has taste!“ I’m going to find another one before I try them on. We can show them off to each other. ”
“ You think so? My mother would probably call it tacky. ” Not that Kathleen was overly judgemental over her daughter’s clothes ; more than she found her own fashion choices in the 70s embarrassing, while Nora gushed over the same things. “ But I don’t really care what she thinks about my style. Oh … actually, what do you think I should try on? ”
“ Well Avalon is the last name of my guitarist, but I’m glad to hear that it sounds that way. “ A timid shake of her head with a chuckle hearing the name Hall and Oates. “ Our first album is called Gypsum Afternoon and our second is Violet Dreams. We are currently working on our third album in the studio, that is when I can wrangle up the boys for the sessions that we book in London. “
THAT’S KIND OF A SICK LAST NAME,no lie. “ Oh, then I’ll have to check you out. ” She commits the name to memory, resolving to Google it later.
“ I’m not really in a band, ” she continues, “ but I’m … well, I guess you could say I’m a solo artist. I’m not really anywhere near releasing an album though. ” Her grin is faintly awkward. “ Not that I’d want to. It’d be a lot of hassle. Do you tour? ”
