[center][h2][color=deepskyblue]Sera Angela Harrison -- The Songbird[/color][/h2][/center]
Sera was one of the first to arrive within the Don's office, having actually aimed to be there before anyone else and failed. Inconvenient.  With other forces taking thee boss's focus and not willing to show rudeness to the man that kept her in business and in home, she had skirted around his desk instead. She found a perch on a side table that was descent enough. A rather unladylike position, Sera sat atop the surface with her long legs crossed, watching more and more family members work their way inside the hideout.  Lips tight, fingers tense against a delicate white box balanced on her lap, her eyes burned with their usual cobalt Bunsen fire. A nervous tension brought a bounce to an ankle, exposed beneath the baggy hem of the trousers she wore. She appeared to be in a worst mood than usual, her approachability dropping.

It had been easier for her than many to wake up this morning; she noted the many tired eyes around the room. Living with and assisting a baker, she was used to an ungodly prep time, internal clock tending to rouse her before Rosemary even had the chance. She soothed herself with memories of the morning, watching her favorite gal work was always a near hypnotic experience. Something akin to the spell she could weave with her voice. Rosie's thin fingers working daintily at dough that was tougher than she was, pushing up on her tiptoes to use her wait to knead at it. Rosie looking up and giving her that sweet, sugary smile, blonde hair tucked behind her little pixie ears. She would explain what she was doing and didn't mind that it fell on half deaf ears. She'd drag Sera in close, pushing her hands into the mix and ignoring the protests as premature bread oozed between well bred fingers. When Sera managed her escape to the nearest sink, she returned to watch the rest of the show. Rosemary guiding thin stripes of dough into a braid, draping each one of the mass of cinnamoned apples along the center. The pastry box on Sera's thighs felt warmer, seeping into her skin and she squeezed it tighter to her. 

She might have lit up the Don's office with a  rare smile if she wasn't so tense.

Of course, with memories of the morning came an increased bombination of nerves inside her. She had seen the books, knew that the times were affecting the pocket change of the masses and decreasing their customer pool. Corvi's speech brought no relaxation to her spring-locked muscles, only worsening the case in fact. She glared at the opposite wall above everyone else's head as if it might be to blame for all this misfortune. Hearing of an impending conflict brought on a flash of the bakery into her mind-- destroyed. That was [i]not[/i] acceptable. The depression really was threat enough to their little shop.  She would not allow any harm to come to her one place of peace, would not let another group come in and take what was [i]theirs[/i]. Her fingers were nearly crushing the object she held all the way up until he spoke her name. She looked up and forced her hands to release the box, stretching her fingers out. Forced her lungs to take in air again.

[i]Breathe Sera. It won't happen.[/i]

She stood up as everyone began to prepare for their assignments, gracefully pushing off of the mall table and making her way to the boss's desk.  A swell of pride overcame her as she heard Cesar's comment about her abilities, nodding with restrained smugness. "[color=deepskyblue]Of course, that is my function.[/color]" She placed the small box delicately in front of Corvi, eyes downcast with a respectful smile. "[color=deepskyblue]Another gift from Rosemary.[/color]"

Then, she was falling into step beside her new partner, taking his arm in on gloved hand while she leaned in close. "[color=deepskyblue]Do you mind a small detour, dear? If my expertise is to be used, I should change my get up.[/color]" Things had been a bit of a disaster that morning for the two women. They'd both somehow forgotten their womanly duties to do laundry until last minute, leaving Sera to borrow Rosemary's previous husband's trousers for lack of skirts. It was fitted to her figure of course, but still felt a bit odd on her form. She'd done it before, just not in public. No matter, the laundry they had set out should be dried by now,  so she could be more presentable.
[center][sub][hider=Trousers] [img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/ef/4d/0b/ef4d0bc6ed093d11f8e533f54a05dd5a.jpg[/img] [/hider][/sub][/center]