by Devmond Incarnata on July 22nd, 2011, 7:41 am
Devmond Passiflora-Incarnata let the crowd’s roar wash over him like the flush from a lover’s compliment. Bright colors were dancing everywhere. To these people submerged in the dark, it was a reminder of the glory of their days in the sun. The most lovely thing, though, was the moth queen that hovered above them. With his fangs in full, he grinned as though smitten. That feeling when he saw a beautiful women would always be indescribable to him. It was in a jolt that he was reminded that he wasn’t alone.
“She’s so pretty, I wish I could wear a dress like that.”
His six-year-old daughter, Sunay, tugged at the back of his sleeve. This remark should have annoyed him more. He had spent quite a bit of miza on her elaborate jewel-toned dress.
Patting her head lovingly, he whispered, “Little darling, you shouldn’t be jealous of someone else's gifts.”
“Why not? Some people just have everything...”
Sunay pouted slightly which made it hard for him not to laugh. Everything the girl did was exaggerated and her blown cheeks looked like a pufferfish at the moment. His answer would have been along the lines of their own wealth and her ingratitude, but catching sight of a someone jostling through the crowd made him only pat her head again in answer. The Symenestra had dark hair and red eyes, whose blood was not entirely pure.
“Silk, silk it’s like woven milk.” Sunay sung to herself in Common, her eyes still fixated on the queen.
Dra-Vesper was panting slightly with the wild eyes of the pursued. The head would go one way, and, so would his feet, only to turn around again and again. Laughing, Devmond watched and enjoyed the sight a chime before calling out to him. The two made eye-contact before a jostling group of Symenestra teens separated it. About to pull Sunay deeper into the crowd, something heavy was then laid on Devmond's shoulder.
“There, you can see I gave it to her.”
“Thank you, Dra-Vesper. I’m glad I suggested you be the messenger.”
Although Devmond’s voice had all the gentility of the upper class, he brushed the man’s hands off his coat like a piece of dirt. He may have been sympathetic to the half-breeds but not to break social code. To be touched so shamelessly in public, some bad-bloods had no respect for Vitaras.