Da Capo (Manifesto)

[Zhenya]

Zhenya watched the men speak amongst themselves as a new round of drinks was procured. Seven’s companion seemed a little spiky, which she presumed meant he did not come from money himself, but she was content to watch the little tirade run out of steam on its own. By his shared glance, Seven seemed likewise amused by the banter. 

Her attention was thoroughly captured by the manner of her own description, though. Zhenya enjoyed the glow of centre-stage, and admiration settled upon her shoulders very well, though the words themselves were fanciful. Z might simply be a well-prepared charlatan, but delighted laughter left her lips anyway. Subtle twists of seidr fractured light into delicate prisms, so for a moment those rainbows were made real, glowing soft against her skin, and upon the others around her.

If what he said he saw was real though? Stranger things she had seen, and heard. Soren would have been apt to collect such a curiosity, but if Zhenya was likewise curious, she had never been one to chase. The coterie of her closest companions were there because they chose to be, not because she lured or entrapped. It had always been a marked difference between them.

Surprisingly Seven broke the spell; artfully done, of course, but it surprised her that he was not more interested in such an oddity. She knew he enjoyed the spectacle, and she would have expected him to demand to be the next recipient of Z’s supposed gift, not sweep them on to new pastures. But if she noticed it as strange, or had any thoughts as to why, she did not choose to remark upon it. 

“A mystery,” she corrected. “Dear Cruz will reveal more.”