Una planted her feet firmly in front of the theatre and admired the architecture. The grandeur was a small comfort to Una, it let her know that she was better than half the pathetic beings out there. She allowed herself a nervous glance over her shoulder before she went into the belly of the building.

Ushering herself inside she shook off the outside air and brushed imaginary dust from her finery. She drank in the glamour that had enveloped her thin body and let out a sigh of relief, this was her world and no one could take it from her. Not even Lutgardis.

She tossed an effortless curl over her shoulder and with that the thought had been swept from her mind, now she let her almond shaped eyes search for the box office. A small smile rested on her lips as she spotted it, perfect.
With an elegant sway of her hips she elegantly “floated” towards the window and rested her forearm on the small ledge. As she waited she admired her nails.

Una was greeted by a smiling, pimpled teen in his handsome usher's uniform. The high collar was smartly buttoned and almost too tight, maroon-and-indigo striped double-breasted jacket clashing terribly with his shaggy, carroty hair. His grin was huge, exposing perfectly white teeth. Charlie Helton, or so his name tag read, positively beamed at her, yellow eyes alight.

"Hiya and Hello! Here for the show?" It was a moronic rhetorical question, but he chuckled to himself at his 'clever' rhyme. Rubbing his fuzzy chin, he nodded politely, knocking his small cap askew.

"One for Basil York and Lillian Loveheart's newest comedy? I've heard it's utterly hysterical."

Alstair glanced about the entrance of the theater. He had been careful to chose today for being off from patrol after nearly a month of continuous work. It was always a pleasure to come and watch a show. Something he had picked up from his family sadly.

With an easy stride he entered the building letting his eyes adjust to the dim light.

Her icy heart warmed to the teen, it was lovely to find someone with respect for their patrons and that was such a stylish uniform.



Una recoiled slightly, a misconception on her part she supposed. People were not as straightforward as she would have liked and with the idiotic comments Una was debating whether to throw them back in the lad’s face. She concluded, no, not today.

She slowly batted her eyelashes at the boy and allowed him a seductive smile.
“Well if it’s hysterical I must go and see it, I shall certainly have a ticket for that, if you would be so kind my dear boy.” Una said with sweetness and grace dripping off her tongue like honey.



She glimpsed the man as he made his way into the building, interesting. Casting a wary eye across him she noted his posture and athletic build. He would be quite a catch. She turned back to the box office and drummed her elegant fingers on the wood, waiting for the ohso chirpy reply of Charlie.

Charlie flushed brightly, nose and ears turning a delectable shade of cherry at una's smile, and he fumbled a little when reaching for a ticket, totally knocking his hat off.

"Uhm--ah-- Yes Ma'am!" He said, after scurrying for the lost fez. Getting the tiny slip out, he almost handed it to her, when he realized she hadn't yet payed. Shaking his head, his voice cracked a little as he forced a reply. "Th--that'll be f--f--five t--tallies, Ma'am!" He grinned sheepishly. Why did the pretty girls always scare him so much?

Watching the boy fall to pieces in front of her was quite a sight to been seen, and an amusing one at that. She stifled a giggle, but to her annoyance a slight hiccup of glee came out. It was Una’s turn to flush, although not a blatant as Charlie’s a tinge of rosy pink had appeared in her cheeks. Reaching into her purse as the blush faded away she scooped out the correct monies and placed them in a line on the counter. Biting her lower lip and cocking an eyebrow, testing to see if Charlie could go any redder.

She purred “Now could you direct me to the nearest place in here where I can a enjoy a simple juice?”
Una had been slightly put off alcohol as of late. Nevertheless she added the final flourish to the question and just to see him squirm she gave him a sly wink.

Alstair watched the events bemused. If the show was half as entertaining he would actually feel like he had gotten his money's worth...

By this point the boy was particularly pink, and his hands shook when accepting the coins. Charlie coughed nervously, and he nodded. "Umm... just before the main doors is a vendor. They might have juice..." He pulled at his uniform collar, feeling entirely too warm.

He suddenly saw the other man, and his eyes widened. "Oh! Oh, can I help you, sir?" The man somehow exuded terrifying, and Charlie wished that he'd skipped work. First reahdeaded beauties, now...?

"You may show me to my seat. Is that not your job?" Alstair asked with an annoyed tone. "Or you can at least show to where the bar is. Given how wonderful the help is here I may need a drink or two to enjoy the show."

He couldn't help but to enjoy the fact he was more than likely scaring the daylights out of the poor fool and caused his field to snap about like a whip as he spoke. It's energies seething with displeasure.

Una admired her handiwork, the boy was a simply divine shade of Sippa Berry pink glowing so bright he could almost act as a light source. She turned swiftly on her heel, not wanting to witness the wrath of the man, but ever the gossip she kept her ears pricked eagerly awaiting the sharp exchange sure to follow.
Guilt might have crept up and settled on her shoulder, it might have forced her to intervene, it might have stopped the boy being ripped to shreds. No, she waited with baited breath for the scene to unfold. Guilt wasn’t really her style.
She paused and started to flick through a nearby rack of leaflets, hoping to catch a snippet of the exchange. But his field caught her by surprise, she was only teasing the boy, but the man was being somewhat more serious.
The thought of juice was more tempting than it originally sounded, she glanced back at Charlie, thought nothing of it and strode toward the vendor.

"You always were fond of bullying the young 'uns, Murdoh."
Sic's icy voice rang out from behind, words striking their intended target like a thousand icicles hitting the ground. His field, however, did not follow suit, and was kept perfectly in check.

His staff clacked against the ground as he took a few deliberately slow steps towards the two, lazy eyes fixated on a point several feet behind them. Upon closer inspection, Sic's line of sight could be traced to a glass of Balshems Crove currently being downed by some unworthy soul.
What a clocking waste of a perfectly good drink.

Sic stopped a respectable distance from the pair, and finally turned his full attention to Alstair.
"It's been a while, old.." His face twitched at the effort of the next word.
"...Friend." He concluded.
"Have you come to enjoy the show? Or have you come here merely to test the nerve of a youngster?"

Alstair's eyes narrowed as he looked upon Siccus. His field snapped and simmered as he tried to restrain from simply obliterating the man before him.

"It's good to know that you are doing well my friend." He said with a voice that hardly restrained the harsh tones that he tried to hide.