The Night Blossom Old Rose Harbor
on the 60 of Roalis, 2719 Evening
Lucy was not nervous. Cosima Lucinda Babineaux did not get nervous.
She tugged at the bodice of her dress again, frowning. Lucy was never one to hide her assets, but she felt like a prostitute in this outfit. The bodice was cut down to right under her breasts in a deep v, and the bodice's fabric was a nearly transparent glittering emerald fog. Her breasts were at least not on open display, the dressmaker she had been sent to when she was hired at The Night Blossom having the decency to layer up the fabric so that it was opaque over her breasts – or rather, the parts of her breast that it covered. She still wasn't quite sure how the dressmaker had managed to shape a bodice that cut that lowly while allowing her… abundant assets to remain covered and suitably afloat, but Lucy thanked the Circle that for the dressmaker's impressive engineering skills. She wouldn't have been able to get on stage to sing if she felt like her breasts were going to pop out of the gown at the first deep breath.
Her skirt was more traditional, an emerald green overskirt with light bustle over a black underskirt. The overall effect was slightly this side of prostitute, but as her clothing was paid for by her new employer and it had been made quite clear that she would not be allowed to adjust the clothing to her tastes outside of picking the colors or patterns from the choices presented to her, she bit back her complaints when she was fitted for her new dresses.
She waited for the woman that was working on her hair and makeup to finish, resisting the urge to chew on her stained lips. This was new too, Lucy far too familiar with making her own face up and fixing her hair since she had moved out of the family home. Of course, her father had ensured she was properly cared for while under his care, so this was easier to settle into than the dress was. She didn't really have any major quibbles about the way the woman fixed her up, too, which made the worst emotion she was dealing with on that front boredom rather than fear of embarrassment.
Once the woman nodded and stepped away, Lucy let out a relieved breath and leaned forward to get a better look in what was the best mirror she had seen in ages. She couldn't resist drawing in a breath. "By Hurte, you do good work!" she exclaimed, before remembering the race of the makeup artist. She abruptly sat up. "I mean, for a human," she said flippantly, the look on her face purposely chosen to prick a pin into any elated feelings that the woman might have felt from her heartfelt compliment.
The pale redhead resisted the urge to scrub her face clean as her brain conjured up the image of the contamination from the human settling into her face. "Cosima, not now. You will not die before you get home. You can scrub it all off when you're home," she told herself firmly. She couldn't afford to have one of her… episodes in front of a human and before her first performance at The Night Blossom.
"Well?" Lucy asked the stylist as looked on. "I can't go on if you don't let me warn up. Shoo," she said, waving the human off like the woman was nothing but a pesky animal. Once the creature had run away, Lucy went through her warm-ups. Then she went to the backstage area.
Peeking through the curtains to look at the gathered masses, appreciating the décor. This was a place that deserved someone like her performing. The only thing that marked this beautiful club as lesser than the opera house that had been the pinnacle of her career was that she knew there were humans and wicks out in the audience. But Lucy had come to the point where she could tolerate dealing with the creatures on nights she performed, as long as she stayed in her apartment as much as she could when she was off.
She examined the audience, letting out a soft gasp as she saw someone sitting at a table near the stage, surrounded by men.
Her father was sitting at that table..
The redheaded songstress had seen him before, but she had never been able to speak to him. She wasn't sure she could just make small talk with him and the few times she had seen him were never been good opportunities to take him aside and give him the pistol that her mother swore he had given her. And, deep down, Lucy had been uncertain about telling her father the truth of her parentage, but once she caught her first glimpse of him, she realized she wanted him to know she at least existed. She had no illusions that he would feel any responsibilities towards her -- not when she was already an adult. But, even if he told her he wanted nothing to do with her, he would still know she existed and, for whatever reason, Lucy wanted that so very badly.
There would probably not be an opportunity have that sort of conversation tonight, but the fact that he would see her perform made her nerves rise. Would he reject her if she wasn't good enough on stage, like the man who had raised her had rejected her simply because she chose to go into the arts instead of sciences? Lucy had no way of knowing, and she most certainly couldn't back out of the performance. So, when the Master of Ceremonies called introduced the Ruby Nightingale, Lucy took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage.
She tugged at the bodice of her dress again, frowning. Lucy was never one to hide her assets, but she felt like a prostitute in this outfit. The bodice was cut down to right under her breasts in a deep v, and the bodice's fabric was a nearly transparent glittering emerald fog. Her breasts were at least not on open display, the dressmaker she had been sent to when she was hired at The Night Blossom having the decency to layer up the fabric so that it was opaque over her breasts – or rather, the parts of her breast that it covered. She still wasn't quite sure how the dressmaker had managed to shape a bodice that cut that lowly while allowing her… abundant assets to remain covered and suitably afloat, but Lucy thanked the Circle that for the dressmaker's impressive engineering skills. She wouldn't have been able to get on stage to sing if she felt like her breasts were going to pop out of the gown at the first deep breath.
Her skirt was more traditional, an emerald green overskirt with light bustle over a black underskirt. The overall effect was slightly this side of prostitute, but as her clothing was paid for by her new employer and it had been made quite clear that she would not be allowed to adjust the clothing to her tastes outside of picking the colors or patterns from the choices presented to her, she bit back her complaints when she was fitted for her new dresses.
She waited for the woman that was working on her hair and makeup to finish, resisting the urge to chew on her stained lips. This was new too, Lucy far too familiar with making her own face up and fixing her hair since she had moved out of the family home. Of course, her father had ensured she was properly cared for while under his care, so this was easier to settle into than the dress was. She didn't really have any major quibbles about the way the woman fixed her up, too, which made the worst emotion she was dealing with on that front boredom rather than fear of embarrassment.
Once the woman nodded and stepped away, Lucy let out a relieved breath and leaned forward to get a better look in what was the best mirror she had seen in ages. She couldn't resist drawing in a breath. "By Hurte, you do good work!" she exclaimed, before remembering the race of the makeup artist. She abruptly sat up. "I mean, for a human," she said flippantly, the look on her face purposely chosen to prick a pin into any elated feelings that the woman might have felt from her heartfelt compliment.
The pale redhead resisted the urge to scrub her face clean as her brain conjured up the image of the contamination from the human settling into her face. "Cosima, not now. You will not die before you get home. You can scrub it all off when you're home," she told herself firmly. She couldn't afford to have one of her… episodes in front of a human and before her first performance at The Night Blossom.
"Well?" Lucy asked the stylist as looked on. "I can't go on if you don't let me warn up. Shoo," she said, waving the human off like the woman was nothing but a pesky animal. Once the creature had run away, Lucy went through her warm-ups. Then she went to the backstage area.
Peeking through the curtains to look at the gathered masses, appreciating the décor. This was a place that deserved someone like her performing. The only thing that marked this beautiful club as lesser than the opera house that had been the pinnacle of her career was that she knew there were humans and wicks out in the audience. But Lucy had come to the point where she could tolerate dealing with the creatures on nights she performed, as long as she stayed in her apartment as much as she could when she was off.
She examined the audience, letting out a soft gasp as she saw someone sitting at a table near the stage, surrounded by men.
Her father was sitting at that table..
The redheaded songstress had seen him before, but she had never been able to speak to him. She wasn't sure she could just make small talk with him and the few times she had seen him were never been good opportunities to take him aside and give him the pistol that her mother swore he had given her. And, deep down, Lucy had been uncertain about telling her father the truth of her parentage, but once she caught her first glimpse of him, she realized she wanted him to know she at least existed. She had no illusions that he would feel any responsibilities towards her -- not when she was already an adult. But, even if he told her he wanted nothing to do with her, he would still know she existed and, for whatever reason, Lucy wanted that so very badly.
There would probably not be an opportunity have that sort of conversation tonight, but the fact that he would see her perform made her nerves rise. Would he reject her if she wasn't good enough on stage, like the man who had raised her had rejected her simply because she chose to go into the arts instead of sciences? Lucy had no way of knowing, and she most certainly couldn't back out of the performance. So, when the Master of Ceremonies called introduced the Ruby Nightingale, Lucy took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage.
