A week of preparation, a little more. Women telling their friends, announcing to Caledon at large, word spread through the aether from woman to woman. Long talks into the night, deciding whom would be wearing what, what would go best with whom, hair and eyes and skins and shoes and lovely, lovely gowns with ornate details.
Wednesday, some panic. Thursday, rapid-fire shuttling of folders and information back and forth. Friday, last-minute notecards, confirming with all and sundry, setting up the scene of the thing. Saturday, my first time to try on every outfit, from the skin out, and see how things went together.
Sunday. An hour before the Rose Corridor tea. The three of us chosen to model walk the path. Me being me, I fall into the bay. Of course--it wouldn't be a public Em appearance without some form of personal humiliation or quirky disaster. Just wouldn't do.
But we get everything done, we're in our first outfits, we're preparing to walk out to meet the gathered crowd, do our turns on the improvised runway....and suddenly, my heart is in my throat.
Honestly, if Miss Darkling and Lady Kira hadn't been just as nervous as I was? If Lord Zealot hadn't been the calming ironic presence he was? I doubt I would have survived. Honestly, I never thought I'd rely on a man in the changing room before...
And, oh, I wish I had pictures, but I did hear busy clicking of cameras going off, so it's to be hoped pictures were recorded. I'll look for them.
In the meantime...different hobbies of an evening.
All this week as well, I've been going in now and again for photoshoots with my artist. Normally, it's some incredibly lethal bit of fetishware, a drained-of-all-life appearance, the kinky little retro touches I'm growing to love. This time was just a tad different--oh, the beginning of the week, don't mistake me, we had leather and retro nylon in spades. But Saturday...
Well, Saturday was a different story.
After all, it's not every day you walk in on your artist and she tells you to streak yourself with slowly cooling blood and think sexy thoughts. Muahah.
This was part of her "Sin" show, which opened today, and will run for at least one week, if not two. And yes, there's a preponderance of leather and latex, pleasure droids and buckled straps, insanely high shoes and gleaming PVC...and in the midst of it, my chosen sin, blood-daubed as I was.
Today, I found a pose entitled "Back Shank". I may have to go get it and have my landlord finally build that knife for me...just so I can have the blood-daubed outfit snapped for posterity while I have a knife in my hand. MUAHAHAhahaha...
In the meantime, someone living in a bomb shelter contacted my statue and said, please, can you build me furniture that goes with the destruction of civilization? And he did. Had a grand time doing so, for all that I can evaluate such things.
My only problem? Was when he removed the plutonium cores to retrofit the nuclear bomb for lamp light. We were sitting on his friend's beach, bathed in gloriously green radiation, for rather an unnervingly long time.
If I pop up with any new mutations...that'll be why.
But overall...barring the known issues...it was a good week. I am pleased. Relatively content, even, and how often does that happen? My once (and perhaps future, who knows?) employer paid me, not the full amount but enough to get on with designing what I need to have done to open Taiyou and have my rez day party, I do believe. Now I just need to get on the ground and tell people.
Oh, and one RP note...
A certain bearer of a certain demon has approached me, wanting to know if I'll blood-bond to him. Considering the last love of my life in Lumindor, the half-Drow Captain, hasn't seen fit to talk to me of late...I'm considering--strongly considering--saying yes.
Addiction to his blood and all.
Oh, but my half-Drow? Will desire his head on a platter, and may just have the strength enough to get it. And then it will be yet another addiction to cold-rip out of my system.
Still. Strongly tempted. Yes, it's partially because I'm irked at the ex-Raven, for making me beg to see him, and still hearing him say no. I am Unseelie, I am shifter true, I do not beg. And he of all, with his fierce pride, should remember that.
But also...there's something very soothing in an equal playing field. I would have to work hard indeed to drain him, succubus to incubus, and so would he, because our ability sets do seem to reinforce, each to each. The more power drained, the more power expended, the more power raised...it's lovely when it works that way.
Plus, he...or the outer shell of the demon within, at least...is very sweet, in his own way.
And one thing I would never call the Captain of the Unseelie Court...is sweet.
So let him make peace with his choices, and his stray neko harem. I've been long and long away, perhaps he's forgotten certain of my traits...