"Hello, Lady Co-ordinator, this one is here for you now. Your bidding, my Lady...?"

A simple yet courteous greeting to Calista as always from CeCi's to her superior in the Lighting and Design department. But there was a slight change in CeCi's tone as she spoke and trickled her way over before pouring herself in a seat beside the white-magicked witch. And as always, at Starla's right hand side was the angel when meetings did sprout up. CeCi removed her worker gloves and placed them into her satchel. Lined were the plush insides with tools and baubles of all sorts fit for a Mistress Lighting Tech and CeCi made sure that all said tools and baubles were of impeccable quality and arranged in distinct order and category; even the worker gloves had a home therein.

Not a single bead of sweat glistened from her face, but still a slender hand wiped at the brow neath the white kerchief tied around her head; a habit she picked up from other workers signifying that hard work has been accomplished. The pair of pony tails made of midnight hair cascaded downward from either shoulder and swished sideways as she leaned in close to her LadyCo-ordinator, "All is set, all is in proper rhyme, rhythm and at low risk, as per order and as always, my Lady."

Even though she was but a Tech dressed in drab canvas and rope-tied, ankle length garb , a lead Tech mind you, she still kept her air of dignified regal quality. Knees held tight together, hands clasped as they rested gently upon canvas-covered thighs. But something was different about this angel, something slightly off. For where the cloth ended at her ankles, a bare foot tapped not in impatience, but in rhythm to the soft shores of the ebb and flow of her thoughts. 

A shoulder covered with the dark brown fabric of her three and one-quarter length jacket leaned into Calista's shoulder; an act bubbling with more than an attempt to get one's attention, "Oh, but look at them all gathered, my Lady Co-ordinator, such faces stark naked with anxious curiosity and voices laden with nervous energy... we are the audience in waiting, as if we ourselves are not known for providing such mirth and wonder to all those that bear witness to the greatness we do provide...!" 

An act that never took place between the two happened. CeCi made motion to gently rest her temple upon the shoulder of the ever suspicious Witch of White Magicks. A calming sigh would follow such happening and then a slight tilt of the chin, just enough so that silvery eyes under heavy lid would look up and into a dazzling blue pair. "What does it feel like, my Lady Calista...? What does it feel like when you... claim one? Does it hurt the givee? Should you brand, does it mar your own soul with a memory of such act? Should you bargain, do you feel such sadness; pity for the pitiful without a soul? What happens to the lost soul when the soul is ripped from them in rage... or in... vengeance...?"

A gently rubbing of her caramel coloured cheek upon the witch's shoulder would CeCi partake in, moving her chin to the sound of her Lady Co-Ordinator's words for as long as the witch would allow. 

"And for what reason does this one ask such things...? Simple...for CeCi has never been known to claim a single one... but today... aye, my Lady Co-ordinator. Today is a new day..."

But if such happening was naught to be realized then so be it, CeCi would have merely leaned back and asked such questions with a tone that, one such as Calista, not to mention nearly all of the Carnival workers in attendance, would never be heard from such a dignified and regal qualitied being. The bare foot would have kept tapping to the ebb and flow of her thoughts, for infected was she by another. 

The tone, the voice with the strange angellic accent, would have sounded like someone not so righteous, but one more akin to another angel present in the Carnival. One with a voice of glittering purity and Mercy. At the shores of vindication stood that other. And that infection shone in her smile as she looked out, through the crowd, and finally spied that radiant golden hair, brilliant and a perfect match to that beauty's pure golden halo.

~

[hider=Earlier reaction to Rosalina]

A simple rose. 

But oh, did it mean so much. 

Of the many things Grog did give out as small tokens, reminders really, of friendship to Celleci, the one thing that he settled in on giving her was flowers. Not in aromatic bunches nor fancy bouquets, but only a single one at a time. Never on a daily basis, but often enough that it was always a sweet surprise when CeCi received one. 

And this simple rose was more of a surprise even though thrust upon her in the same ham-fisted yet tender by the Troll. For the very reason that she sensed that this flower was not another one taken from the full collection of Rascal. No, this rose was somehow different and... [i]unique?[/i] Oh, but lovely Rascal, he would hand out flowers to stunned, and sometimes cowering males upon seeing Rascal's unique form, so that they may hand them off to females at the Carnival; oh the uplifting of hearts and corners of lips was the gratifying reactions! 

But no, this simple, delicate and very richly red rose was not from Rascal for Rascal did not have a single rose with imperceptible black lined petals in his collection. And now it was soon to be in the possession of Rosalina Bell.
 
[b][i]“I must atone myself Celleci,”[/b] Rosalina curtsied elegantly, [b]“for my dearth with relations with thee. Undeniably, a fresh diurnal is upon us and yes, we shall speak as sisters of the winged and light.” [/b][/i]

Delight lit across CeCi's face like the rays of the rising sun that chased away twilit haze of shadow and mourning. Even if she wanted to, there was no reason to hide it and should she even dare, this female before her was a sister, an angel from the Azure; a purity of a soul knows true happiness within a being. Little did CeCi know that regardless of her blockade against negativity and selfishness within, of all of them at the Carnival, only Rosalina could ever know that it was from CeCi's own hand that CeCi could never speak out loud and refer to Celleci herself using the non-selfish and proper title: 'I.'

“For five days, has this one wondered about your whereabouts and for five days has this one pondered,” said CeCi after returning the elegant curtsey while still holding the rose out to Rosalina, “and finally has this one decided to come forth and express said wonderings and ponderings.” 

[i]Rosalina’s eyes glanced down to the perfect rose within the perfect hand and smile again she did, [b]“gracias Celleci,”[/b] and met vanilla skinned hands to caramel,[b] “unfortunately I have naught of physical to offer,”[/b] the floret met her nose and she inhaled its scent before gazing at Celleci once more, [b]“friendship will that be of equal exchange?” [/i][/b]

Shining silver eyes locked with breath-taking blue ones. A heartbeat. Then another.

“Yes and yes again till this one is without breath. But do know that our friendship means more than a simple material possession. Five days again without knowing you is too much; a good friend should be there for the other in such times. This one will be there for you, Rosalina Bell, my sister in the Azure and here in mortal time.”

Celleci, leaned her forehead gently upon Rosalina's and listened for her sister's heart, trying to count the elusive number of heartbeats they had left together here in that mortal time.

The simple rose had been passed. The simple rose that Grog did not take from Rascal's full collection; for Rascal never had such red roses whose petals were lined with black (and such black lines were unseen lest they were truly scrutinized) and was very careful to never harm a Carnival attendee. Each flower was impeccable and beautiful. 

But upon the stem of the simple rose now in Rosalina's possession was a thorn. Aye, a single thorn whose sharpened tip was laced with more than just malicious intent.[/hider]

~

Feather white glowed at her back as her wings loomed into existence then faded away. Silver-eyes dulled as if concealed by stormclouds whist the uproar of the Carnival workers around her sounded out.

Twelve [i]missing[/i] but contracts still intact...

In this Carnival, CeCi did not take a prominent role, an important one, perhaps, but not one important enough where she knew her concerns were of true value. And so when Ty spoke up, the stormclouds in her eyes retreated and she gave a curt nod in agreement to the query that held upon her own tongue. A polite and grateful smile she aimed at Ty as the enthralling acrobat sat back down. 

Then of course, Andracos... the [i]'try harder than hard enough to be the centre of attention'[/i] Andracos piped in and all manner of bile tasting nausea, unsettling skin crawling and heated raised hackles befell the angel. All CeCi could do to refrain from sneering was to gently smooth out the wrinkles of her canvas dress, hands moving in the direction from upper thigh to knees as if hands worse than acid were invading upon her person. '[i]Should you ever, ever, find Ty paired with you, tethered by your lies, Kneeler, you will find CeCi crowding in as a third, and swiftly yet undoubtedly with all certainly, you will find the few mourners that pretend to care for you casting soil upon your prone form from six feet under--'[/i] But then her motions ended and slowly she raised her chin. 

Silver eyes that, for once, were not normally teeming with every type of dagger possible when aimed at Andracos, rested upon the half-Siren and searched for any signs of dry humour. No, he would always try to get a rise out of Mr. Seil, but right now she could see that his question regarding Rose Bell, CeCi's angellic sister upon this mortal realm, was truly genuine. 

As Mr. Seil responded, CeCi's eyes shifted away from Andracos and began scanning the rest of the crowd (quite possibly in similar fashion to her Lady Co-ordinator, Calista may have been doing) to see reactions, anything that would give away ulterior intent. But if Vivanna could not see with her all-seeing sphere...

[i][b]“Thank you Pachid,”[/b] Mr. Seil expressed gratitude for the sloths actions, [b]“let us all hope that the next one to go missing is Andracos, yes?” [/i][/b]

The giggles and chuckles that lit up the room broke her sweeping gaze and as she looked back in the direction of the bearded owner of the Carnival, she found that she indulged in a soft laugh of her own. Perhaps a soul did exist in that manipulative form of the 'Master afterall.

In ensuing the quiet, save for the obnoxious sound of the crunching of the sugary sweet poison known as lollipops, another did stand and query.

Tingles and electricity danced up and down CeCi's spine when silver eyes traced the curves and vivacious aura that was Starla. Lovely and captivating as always was she, but right now, the call of the Siren matched the heavy look within her eyes. Yes, she was alluring and hypnotic, yes, she was tantalizing and exotic, but as of now, she was something else that lay beyond said qualities; she was concerned and compassionate.

“Mr. Seil, and to all well-meaning bodies of our family and home... greetings, loveliest of greetings to all of you, my dears. Yes, fabulously yours, it is I, Starla Carlotta."

Flowing wavy locks slid full length along her shoulders, down and up again while she clasped her hands between full tempting bosom and bowed humbly. But really, even such a demure pose commanded the stirring of unspoken desires of heart and other parts; it was no wonder that CeCi adopted Starla's verbal claim to others in the Carnival: [i]'My Dear.' [/i] 

"Oh, but why must we merely watch for the interlopers, sir...?! Those lost are mine own sisters and brothers, as much as all of yours as well...! Are they not? Oh but yes! Yes, they are, my dears! Mr. Reciful Seil! Sir...? Why must we only wait to see if any other of our family is ripped away from us, sir? Why can we not set loose our most worthy to find them all-- [i]all[/i] I say-- and bring them back home to us...!?”