[right][h3][b][i][color=a187be]Chanteuse Amaranthine[/color][/i][/b][/h3][color=a187be]≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color]
[color=a187be][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Shadowell Manor: Front of Manor Outside -> Grand Vestibule (E8)
[color=a187be][i][b]Skills:[/b][/i][/color] Constitution, Charisma
[color=a187be][i][b]Hit Points:[/b][/i][/color] 4
[color=a187be] ≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎≎[/color][/right]
	[color=a187be]"Oh my,"[/color] the silver masked woman said as not one, not two, but at least three people were all offering either a hand or a side, or something more. It was a bit to take in as her eyes darted about from one to the next and her dark spiced tinted bottom lip curled in. Something came out of her mouth but it wasn't a word per-say, more of something between a [i]meep[/i] and a [i]squeak.[/i] Yet, even as it came out it didn't come off sounding like a mouse had been frightened. More like a single note sung staccato. Her throat moved as she swallowed the cold dryness in her throat. [color=a187be]"How could one possibly chose between such offers?"[/color] she said in a willowy voice. It was about that time that people started making their way inside and she spotted a small moment to exit. Two had already moved towards the door and she ducked her head down and quickly made her way up the stairs. Not seeming to take any offer to begin with. 

	Once through the doors her eyes darted about it. Her long hair falling off her shoulders to reveal a primitive tattoo on her left arm that ran from her shoulder to below her elbow and encircled it completely. Roses and Ivy.There was a half a heartbeat stop as she looked and spotted the one that had offered a hand. It seemed someone else had gone to stand by him. She turned her head and looked. People she hadn't spoken to and those that hadn't spoken to her. If she moved to the clear space in the center, anyone could come over? Maybe, maybe not. Dr. Swamp as he had introduced himself had moved to one side. Perhaps that was best. He had created a stunning representation of her. It would do for now. 

	Stepping over she set her instrument case down on the chair but held tight to her satchel. Wrapping her arms around it and herself as she bounced slightly, trying to warm up from the cold that was outside. Large flakes of snow melting slowly on her hair as it cascaded down her back. Her fingers curling over her arms and rubbing over the inked skin. [color=a187be]"Thank you once again,"[/color] she said in a whisper before looking back towards the front of the room and watching the butler. She wouldn't complain, she was out of the cold and away from obviously cocked weapons.