[P] another casualty

[Fever]

F E V E R

I DIED LIKE A SAINT; WAS REBORN A DEVIL

Originally, Fever had made her way into Terrastella to attend the masquerade ball, and although she had a half-decent time attending the festivities and had had her fair share of meeting a collection of interesting characters, she was too exhausted to begin her journey back home to her native court. Fluttering her lashes and false bantering was perpetually tiring, and she longed for something strong to soothe her back into a pleasant mood. 

The night was still stiff and warm, a much different climate than she was used to at home. The air made her sticky, a dew of sweat beading on her abstract tri-colored skin. She removed her veil, seeing as she was no longer required to be in a masquerade attire, though the jewels still decorated her spine and her usual jewelry still twinkled in the twilight. Hopefully her travels would be quick, for she longed for a dip at the oasis back in her homelands - to wash away the residual grime that clings to her from being in contact and mingling with the wealthy. 

Fever walks through the foreign streets of Dusk Court; gilded gaze studying the alien shapes of their architectures and the even stranger faces of their people. Fever felt spot-lighted, very obviously not belonging to this kingdom, she stood out like a screaming red flag. She meets the stares with unamusement, her eyes daggers poised and ready to defend herself, her tongue a weapon held at the helm. Thankfully, no one engaged and she was able to return to sight seeing.

A small establishment caught her attention: humble in nature, hidden away like an insider's delight. It seemed to be a treasure trove of individuals who were a little shady, a tad bit suspicious or perhaps downtrodden in nature. These were Fever's kind of people. Unabashedly, she saunters inside, pleasantly welcomed by the warm light of fires and the quiet murmuring of conversation. She could hear a commotion towards the back of the bar with some rowdy patrons, but otherwise, the abode seemed casual and much easier to find conversation than the ball.

The spiced serpent slithers up to the bar, giving a small nod to and testing smirk to the regulars who eyed her - patiently, she awaits the owner to appear so that she may order a drink.

@Asta little opener <3 

I SLEPT LIKE A SLAVE; WOKE UP A REBEL

art by TheDayOfShadow, code by @c.widow