EZRA
Well it's been like .5 minutes and you're already bored.It was nice to see Fangs, sure, but he'd sauntered off somewhere, and everyone was just so damn busy. You, on the other hand, have been ready and situated for basically forever, and now you're bored. Nobody seems super ready for drinking yet, more's the pity: it'll change, you're sure, as the week wears on and everyone's mental status starts to fall apart.
You spend the first few hours just watching people mill about and find their places, happy you've already snagged a nice little corner for yourself. Then you start to prowl, sulking through the room like a particularly broody cat, an air of look but please don't touch unless I touch you first exuding from every pore. You're dressed in an artful arrangement of blue silks lined with silky fur lining, comfortable and stylish even in this shithole of a temple, because damnit if you haven't been trained to look your best, even in a siege. You're looking for something pretty, but you're not sure what yet.
Or who.
Well, hello. If that isn't a lovely little face, though not really your type, as it were. But he's cute enough, and drawing, and you recognize him from that fun evening of painting and hitting on Fangs. So without much thought or hesitation you slide yourself down beside him, splaying haphazardly on the ground and grinning up at the boy. "Hey there, Blondie. Need a model?"
isn't it lovely, all alone
heart made of glass
my mind made of stone
