Bright and beautiful.

Like a meadow of flowers, Port Desedes was full of life. Even more so after the rain. At night, the black pavement came alive with the colors of overheard advertisements reflected onto the storm-slicked streets. Bright and beautiful, sort of like a meadow of flowers, but [i]much[/i] more like the serpents that lay below that blooming fauna, fangs bared in silent wait. In nature, predators learned to be wary of anything that shined. Because outside of the city limits, [i]'beautiful'[/i] was synonymous with [i]'deadly'[/i].

Does that really matter to humans, though?

[i]Obviously not![/i] answered the crowd of fashion reporters just beyond the velvet cordons, each of them itching for last-minute seats into the evening's venue, the esteemed Heritage Museum.

"Fashionably late is still late, isn't it?" mused Asami to no one in particular, brows knit with frustration as she scrutinized the ticking hands of her wristwatch. She let the heavy door of the dressing room come shut behind her, rounding a hallway. The chaos had calmed some after she spoke to a few of the jittery models who would be strutting along the catwalk any minute now. For the majority of the night, she had partaken in an assortment of rudimentary tasks for her seniors, who had taken charge of the fashion show while awaiting the arrival of their overseer, Professor Branwell.

The back halls were empty, save for a few lighting technicians hauling equipment and some other passers-by, mostly communications students attempting to conduct interviews with the backstage crew. There was a sigh of relief to be had for Asami--she had been helpful enough for the evening, and was speed-walking back to the lounge area where she hoped to have a drink before taking her seat. Tactfully, she managed to shirk any more requests that may have been laid upon her, disarming her aggressors with a well-timed smile and tired glance.

The bartender, handsome but far too old for her, pushed her finished drink across the counter. Taking a sip, her eyes pinch shut as bitterness floods her mouth. "Eugh," she hacked under her breath. It [i]didn't[/i] taste as good as it sounded on the written menu. Go figure. Obliging another half-assed taste, Asami self-consciously glanced to the side to see if anyone had spied her suppressed, and admittedly childish, gag.