The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
No sooner had the wine and conversation sent Basilides' thoughts cascading in a rather carnal, selfish direction did the announcement in the square seem to stop everyone in their tracks. There was an instant that he saw the spark light on Hesiodos' face, and Basilides had almost started to shake his head before the announcement had even finished before Hesiodos grabbed his hand and urged him along.
"I am more than happy to watch..." he started, though he knew that the closer they came to the giant public canvas that his argument would not hold water. As Bas' feet began to slow, it did not stop the Bard's forward progress as he had somehow miraculously removed his sandals and covered his feet in pigment to be one of the first to step upon the clay tiles. Unable to stop his friend and remind him of the cost, Bas found his naysaying words dead on his tongue as his lips curled up in a smile, watching the graceful steps of the man's dance before him.
His energy and zest for life were infectious, and he saw several young women practically throw their silver coins at the collectors before discarding their own sandals and tying knots into their chiton skirts. Sighing and smirking, he shook his head and unclasped his himation's fibulae, folding it and setting it a decent distance from the pigment on a table for sandals and belongings. With such finery set aside, the merchant took on a far more common appearance, closer to his birth.
Paying the collector two silver coins - one for himself, one for Hesiodos - Bas grinned as the bright blue pigment beneath his feet seemed to tickle as it coated his now bare feet.
Typically one of a more serious and stoic nature, Basilides was not one to partake in many artistic ventures - surprising given that he ran the functionality of a traveling theatre troupe. Creating art himself was foreign, as was 'having fun' for the most part, as many troupe members pointed out on the daily. Someone had to be the adult in the room, he supposed. However, here in a strange city with few who truly knew him outside of his imposed finery, he felt a slight spark of mirth as he cautiously stepped onto the tiles, feeling the rush of overeager bodies around him as he stood there a moment, taking in the sight.
When his eyes locked with Hesiodos', obeying the broad gesture the adventurous vagabond made, a brighter smile took hold as he started to walk towards the man, finding that the pigment beneath his feet began to blend with that of the others.....and became slippery. His arms flailed out slightly as a guffaw of a drunken laugh escaped him, crinkling the corners of his eyes deeply towards his temples.
"This is ridiculous and I am going to fall," Basilides laughed out, knowing that a mixture of drunkeness and his gangly frame made him uncoordinated to a fault. As a body of an excited passerby knocked into him, causing him to nearly spin about on one foot and catch himself with one hand, arching his body away from the pigment below but coating his hand in yellow paint.
Knowing that his companion would soon burst into a belly laugh at the sight, Basilides stood cautiously and stared at his now bright yellow hand before raising a brow with a mischievous smirk and holding up his hand a moment out before bursting into a laugh and attempting to swipe it along Hesiodos' face.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
No sooner had the wine and conversation sent Basilides' thoughts cascading in a rather carnal, selfish direction did the announcement in the square seem to stop everyone in their tracks. There was an instant that he saw the spark light on Hesiodos' face, and Basilides had almost started to shake his head before the announcement had even finished before Hesiodos grabbed his hand and urged him along.
"I am more than happy to watch..." he started, though he knew that the closer they came to the giant public canvas that his argument would not hold water. As Bas' feet began to slow, it did not stop the Bard's forward progress as he had somehow miraculously removed his sandals and covered his feet in pigment to be one of the first to step upon the clay tiles. Unable to stop his friend and remind him of the cost, Bas found his naysaying words dead on his tongue as his lips curled up in a smile, watching the graceful steps of the man's dance before him.
His energy and zest for life were infectious, and he saw several young women practically throw their silver coins at the collectors before discarding their own sandals and tying knots into their chiton skirts. Sighing and smirking, he shook his head and unclasped his himation's fibulae, folding it and setting it a decent distance from the pigment on a table for sandals and belongings. With such finery set aside, the merchant took on a far more common appearance, closer to his birth.
Paying the collector two silver coins - one for himself, one for Hesiodos - Bas grinned as the bright blue pigment beneath his feet seemed to tickle as it coated his now bare feet.
Typically one of a more serious and stoic nature, Basilides was not one to partake in many artistic ventures - surprising given that he ran the functionality of a traveling theatre troupe. Creating art himself was foreign, as was 'having fun' for the most part, as many troupe members pointed out on the daily. Someone had to be the adult in the room, he supposed. However, here in a strange city with few who truly knew him outside of his imposed finery, he felt a slight spark of mirth as he cautiously stepped onto the tiles, feeling the rush of overeager bodies around him as he stood there a moment, taking in the sight.
When his eyes locked with Hesiodos', obeying the broad gesture the adventurous vagabond made, a brighter smile took hold as he started to walk towards the man, finding that the pigment beneath his feet began to blend with that of the others.....and became slippery. His arms flailed out slightly as a guffaw of a drunken laugh escaped him, crinkling the corners of his eyes deeply towards his temples.
"This is ridiculous and I am going to fall," Basilides laughed out, knowing that a mixture of drunkeness and his gangly frame made him uncoordinated to a fault. As a body of an excited passerby knocked into him, causing him to nearly spin about on one foot and catch himself with one hand, arching his body away from the pigment below but coating his hand in yellow paint.
Knowing that his companion would soon burst into a belly laugh at the sight, Basilides stood cautiously and stared at his now bright yellow hand before raising a brow with a mischievous smirk and holding up his hand a moment out before bursting into a laugh and attempting to swipe it along Hesiodos' face.
No sooner had the wine and conversation sent Basilides' thoughts cascading in a rather carnal, selfish direction did the announcement in the square seem to stop everyone in their tracks. There was an instant that he saw the spark light on Hesiodos' face, and Basilides had almost started to shake his head before the announcement had even finished before Hesiodos grabbed his hand and urged him along.
"I am more than happy to watch..." he started, though he knew that the closer they came to the giant public canvas that his argument would not hold water. As Bas' feet began to slow, it did not stop the Bard's forward progress as he had somehow miraculously removed his sandals and covered his feet in pigment to be one of the first to step upon the clay tiles. Unable to stop his friend and remind him of the cost, Bas found his naysaying words dead on his tongue as his lips curled up in a smile, watching the graceful steps of the man's dance before him.
His energy and zest for life were infectious, and he saw several young women practically throw their silver coins at the collectors before discarding their own sandals and tying knots into their chiton skirts. Sighing and smirking, he shook his head and unclasped his himation's fibulae, folding it and setting it a decent distance from the pigment on a table for sandals and belongings. With such finery set aside, the merchant took on a far more common appearance, closer to his birth.
Paying the collector two silver coins - one for himself, one for Hesiodos - Bas grinned as the bright blue pigment beneath his feet seemed to tickle as it coated his now bare feet.
Typically one of a more serious and stoic nature, Basilides was not one to partake in many artistic ventures - surprising given that he ran the functionality of a traveling theatre troupe. Creating art himself was foreign, as was 'having fun' for the most part, as many troupe members pointed out on the daily. Someone had to be the adult in the room, he supposed. However, here in a strange city with few who truly knew him outside of his imposed finery, he felt a slight spark of mirth as he cautiously stepped onto the tiles, feeling the rush of overeager bodies around him as he stood there a moment, taking in the sight.
When his eyes locked with Hesiodos', obeying the broad gesture the adventurous vagabond made, a brighter smile took hold as he started to walk towards the man, finding that the pigment beneath his feet began to blend with that of the others.....and became slippery. His arms flailed out slightly as a guffaw of a drunken laugh escaped him, crinkling the corners of his eyes deeply towards his temples.
"This is ridiculous and I am going to fall," Basilides laughed out, knowing that a mixture of drunkeness and his gangly frame made him uncoordinated to a fault. As a body of an excited passerby knocked into him, causing him to nearly spin about on one foot and catch himself with one hand, arching his body away from the pigment below but coating his hand in yellow paint.
Knowing that his companion would soon burst into a belly laugh at the sight, Basilides stood cautiously and stared at his now bright yellow hand before raising a brow with a mischievous smirk and holding up his hand a moment out before bursting into a laugh and attempting to swipe it along Hesiodos' face.
Nothing could have possibly compared to the excitement that Imma felt when her mother relented. The joy that came over her face was unquestionable and infectious; like the first rays of the morning sun. Taking the silver coin from her mother she popped her way to the tips of her toes and kissed her cheek with a delightful squeal of excitement. “Thank you, Mama.” Turning on the balls of her feet she didn’t even set her weight back into her heels before she took off toward the event in process. Pulling her sandals off as she scurried through the crowd. Upon arrival she wasted no time in handing over the fee requested and locating a suitable color to dip her feet into. The color in question was a deep eggplant purple, which made her think immediately of her family. Stepping into the vat she wrinkled her nose with the squish of paint between her toes before a giggle exploded through her lips and pulled her smile from one ear to the other.
Keeping a fist full of her chiton she hefted the material upward, initially moving just past her knees before a glimpse of them reminded her of her mother’s instructions. Lowering it again she made certain to keep her knees covered as she stepped onto the metaphorical canvas. There were already several people enjoying themselves and Imma found it almost as enjoyable to watch them as to paint with her feet. As her eyes bounced from one happy face to the next she found them landing upon a familiar countenance. Though for a split second she wasn’t certain where she knew him from. Then it struck her. Basilides. Nana’s Basilides. The thought made her blink wide-eyed for a moment before a little hiccup of a squeak passed through her lips. Desperate not to anger Nana anymore than she would likely already be today, what with Imma drawing this event out, she whipped around and tore her eyes away from him.
In no way, shape, or form was she eyeing what belonged to her sister. Though to be fair she wasn’t entirely certain the man belonged to Nana. Then again she doubted that Nana needed complete ownership of something to deem it her own. Either way she was being extra cautious. At least in respect to her sister’s wrath. Not so much her own surroundings though. In the process of turning about she found out just how slick the ground beneath her was. Losing her footing she fell into the closest person who happened to be nearby. Which as luck would have it was a much sturdier frame than herself. Though she would make sense of that after she ended up plastered to the poor man. Arms wrapped around him like a pillar of salvation, her cheek pressed to his chest.
Somewhere along the line she was certain she might have screamed… just a tiny little one. Not the I am being murdered sort. More along the lines of an I am about to fall on my face and please goddess do not let me sort. If such a scream existed that is. Once she was sure she was not going to fall she looked upward, still clinging for dear like to her momentary savior. Big brown eyes opening wide as saucers as she peered up at him. A quick sheepish smile flickered up to him before she quietly apologized. “I am sorry… I didn’t mean to… I… you… you’re very… thank you.” Letting go of him she stepped back and turned around to try and make a hasty retreat only to tangle herself up and drop to her backside like a doe that just learned it had legs.
Landing upon her backside with a wet slap she brought both hands to her face to cover the immediate rush of red upon her cheeks. This was not happening. She was not on her butt in the middle of a crowded event covered in paint. Wait. Flustered and embarrassed she tore her hands away from her face and quickly looked at herself. Grabbing her chiton to tug it back over her knees. Gods and goddesses alike help her. She was not going to make it out of this unscathered but at the very least she would make certain she didn’t flash every last person in Taengea. Priorities...
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Nothing could have possibly compared to the excitement that Imma felt when her mother relented. The joy that came over her face was unquestionable and infectious; like the first rays of the morning sun. Taking the silver coin from her mother she popped her way to the tips of her toes and kissed her cheek with a delightful squeal of excitement. “Thank you, Mama.” Turning on the balls of her feet she didn’t even set her weight back into her heels before she took off toward the event in process. Pulling her sandals off as she scurried through the crowd. Upon arrival she wasted no time in handing over the fee requested and locating a suitable color to dip her feet into. The color in question was a deep eggplant purple, which made her think immediately of her family. Stepping into the vat she wrinkled her nose with the squish of paint between her toes before a giggle exploded through her lips and pulled her smile from one ear to the other.
Keeping a fist full of her chiton she hefted the material upward, initially moving just past her knees before a glimpse of them reminded her of her mother’s instructions. Lowering it again she made certain to keep her knees covered as she stepped onto the metaphorical canvas. There were already several people enjoying themselves and Imma found it almost as enjoyable to watch them as to paint with her feet. As her eyes bounced from one happy face to the next she found them landing upon a familiar countenance. Though for a split second she wasn’t certain where she knew him from. Then it struck her. Basilides. Nana’s Basilides. The thought made her blink wide-eyed for a moment before a little hiccup of a squeak passed through her lips. Desperate not to anger Nana anymore than she would likely already be today, what with Imma drawing this event out, she whipped around and tore her eyes away from him.
In no way, shape, or form was she eyeing what belonged to her sister. Though to be fair she wasn’t entirely certain the man belonged to Nana. Then again she doubted that Nana needed complete ownership of something to deem it her own. Either way she was being extra cautious. At least in respect to her sister’s wrath. Not so much her own surroundings though. In the process of turning about she found out just how slick the ground beneath her was. Losing her footing she fell into the closest person who happened to be nearby. Which as luck would have it was a much sturdier frame than herself. Though she would make sense of that after she ended up plastered to the poor man. Arms wrapped around him like a pillar of salvation, her cheek pressed to his chest.
Somewhere along the line she was certain she might have screamed… just a tiny little one. Not the I am being murdered sort. More along the lines of an I am about to fall on my face and please goddess do not let me sort. If such a scream existed that is. Once she was sure she was not going to fall she looked upward, still clinging for dear like to her momentary savior. Big brown eyes opening wide as saucers as she peered up at him. A quick sheepish smile flickered up to him before she quietly apologized. “I am sorry… I didn’t mean to… I… you… you’re very… thank you.” Letting go of him she stepped back and turned around to try and make a hasty retreat only to tangle herself up and drop to her backside like a doe that just learned it had legs.
Landing upon her backside with a wet slap she brought both hands to her face to cover the immediate rush of red upon her cheeks. This was not happening. She was not on her butt in the middle of a crowded event covered in paint. Wait. Flustered and embarrassed she tore her hands away from her face and quickly looked at herself. Grabbing her chiton to tug it back over her knees. Gods and goddesses alike help her. She was not going to make it out of this unscathered but at the very least she would make certain she didn’t flash every last person in Taengea. Priorities...
Nothing could have possibly compared to the excitement that Imma felt when her mother relented. The joy that came over her face was unquestionable and infectious; like the first rays of the morning sun. Taking the silver coin from her mother she popped her way to the tips of her toes and kissed her cheek with a delightful squeal of excitement. “Thank you, Mama.” Turning on the balls of her feet she didn’t even set her weight back into her heels before she took off toward the event in process. Pulling her sandals off as she scurried through the crowd. Upon arrival she wasted no time in handing over the fee requested and locating a suitable color to dip her feet into. The color in question was a deep eggplant purple, which made her think immediately of her family. Stepping into the vat she wrinkled her nose with the squish of paint between her toes before a giggle exploded through her lips and pulled her smile from one ear to the other.
Keeping a fist full of her chiton she hefted the material upward, initially moving just past her knees before a glimpse of them reminded her of her mother’s instructions. Lowering it again she made certain to keep her knees covered as she stepped onto the metaphorical canvas. There were already several people enjoying themselves and Imma found it almost as enjoyable to watch them as to paint with her feet. As her eyes bounced from one happy face to the next she found them landing upon a familiar countenance. Though for a split second she wasn’t certain where she knew him from. Then it struck her. Basilides. Nana’s Basilides. The thought made her blink wide-eyed for a moment before a little hiccup of a squeak passed through her lips. Desperate not to anger Nana anymore than she would likely already be today, what with Imma drawing this event out, she whipped around and tore her eyes away from him.
In no way, shape, or form was she eyeing what belonged to her sister. Though to be fair she wasn’t entirely certain the man belonged to Nana. Then again she doubted that Nana needed complete ownership of something to deem it her own. Either way she was being extra cautious. At least in respect to her sister’s wrath. Not so much her own surroundings though. In the process of turning about she found out just how slick the ground beneath her was. Losing her footing she fell into the closest person who happened to be nearby. Which as luck would have it was a much sturdier frame than herself. Though she would make sense of that after she ended up plastered to the poor man. Arms wrapped around him like a pillar of salvation, her cheek pressed to his chest.
Somewhere along the line she was certain she might have screamed… just a tiny little one. Not the I am being murdered sort. More along the lines of an I am about to fall on my face and please goddess do not let me sort. If such a scream existed that is. Once she was sure she was not going to fall she looked upward, still clinging for dear like to her momentary savior. Big brown eyes opening wide as saucers as she peered up at him. A quick sheepish smile flickered up to him before she quietly apologized. “I am sorry… I didn’t mean to… I… you… you’re very… thank you.” Letting go of him she stepped back and turned around to try and make a hasty retreat only to tangle herself up and drop to her backside like a doe that just learned it had legs.
Landing upon her backside with a wet slap she brought both hands to her face to cover the immediate rush of red upon her cheeks. This was not happening. She was not on her butt in the middle of a crowded event covered in paint. Wait. Flustered and embarrassed she tore her hands away from her face and quickly looked at herself. Grabbing her chiton to tug it back over her knees. Gods and goddesses alike help her. She was not going to make it out of this unscathered but at the very least she would make certain she didn’t flash every last person in Taengea. Priorities...
Hesiodos knew that he was full of bullshit when he told him he was happy to watch… or at least he would be once he saw him having fun. And lo and behold, once he started dancing, Basilides took off his sandals and painted his feet on a blue that contrasted his own red feet. And that smile… Gods, it was a smile he could fall in love with. It was like a line of sunshine on a overcast sky; something simply beautiful. And his guffaw only made it better! It was, admittedly, infectious.
“You won’t fall if I hold you!”, he said cheerfully, but he said it too late before he fell, though he saw that he managed to not to fall down, at the expense of his now yellow hand. He was right – Hesiodos gave out a belly laugh at that, but offered to help him, and didn’t resist when he swept his hand over his face. Now it was yellow as well, and honestly, he couldn’t have it any other way.
He held his hands and began to dance with him, or rather, around him, but never letting him go, and then began to sing in a melodic, happy voice:
“Dancing your heart out With wine blessing your being I hope there is no doubt For anybody here seeing!
Paint on our feet, joy in our hearts Sun in the sky and a song in our lips We are all lovers of art It will be alright even if you slip!”
He improvised it all as he danced, with the joy of someone that was truly blessed by Dionysus. He hoped than his attitude got into Bas, as well as the ones around him, that cheered in joy as they collaborated in the art.
But something didn’t escape his eyes, and saw how a small child slipped like his partner and fell on her bottom. Hesiodos quickly let him go and moved towards her hastily, with the grace of someone that knew how not to fall down in difficult terrain, or when he was drunk.
He lowered towards the girl and smiled a warm smile, one that communicated that nothing was wrong. He extended a hand to her and said, “Do you need any help up, my young lady?”
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Hesiodos knew that he was full of bullshit when he told him he was happy to watch… or at least he would be once he saw him having fun. And lo and behold, once he started dancing, Basilides took off his sandals and painted his feet on a blue that contrasted his own red feet. And that smile… Gods, it was a smile he could fall in love with. It was like a line of sunshine on a overcast sky; something simply beautiful. And his guffaw only made it better! It was, admittedly, infectious.
“You won’t fall if I hold you!”, he said cheerfully, but he said it too late before he fell, though he saw that he managed to not to fall down, at the expense of his now yellow hand. He was right – Hesiodos gave out a belly laugh at that, but offered to help him, and didn’t resist when he swept his hand over his face. Now it was yellow as well, and honestly, he couldn’t have it any other way.
He held his hands and began to dance with him, or rather, around him, but never letting him go, and then began to sing in a melodic, happy voice:
“Dancing your heart out With wine blessing your being I hope there is no doubt For anybody here seeing!
Paint on our feet, joy in our hearts Sun in the sky and a song in our lips We are all lovers of art It will be alright even if you slip!”
He improvised it all as he danced, with the joy of someone that was truly blessed by Dionysus. He hoped than his attitude got into Bas, as well as the ones around him, that cheered in joy as they collaborated in the art.
But something didn’t escape his eyes, and saw how a small child slipped like his partner and fell on her bottom. Hesiodos quickly let him go and moved towards her hastily, with the grace of someone that knew how not to fall down in difficult terrain, or when he was drunk.
He lowered towards the girl and smiled a warm smile, one that communicated that nothing was wrong. He extended a hand to her and said, “Do you need any help up, my young lady?”
Hesiodos knew that he was full of bullshit when he told him he was happy to watch… or at least he would be once he saw him having fun. And lo and behold, once he started dancing, Basilides took off his sandals and painted his feet on a blue that contrasted his own red feet. And that smile… Gods, it was a smile he could fall in love with. It was like a line of sunshine on a overcast sky; something simply beautiful. And his guffaw only made it better! It was, admittedly, infectious.
“You won’t fall if I hold you!”, he said cheerfully, but he said it too late before he fell, though he saw that he managed to not to fall down, at the expense of his now yellow hand. He was right – Hesiodos gave out a belly laugh at that, but offered to help him, and didn’t resist when he swept his hand over his face. Now it was yellow as well, and honestly, he couldn’t have it any other way.
He held his hands and began to dance with him, or rather, around him, but never letting him go, and then began to sing in a melodic, happy voice:
“Dancing your heart out With wine blessing your being I hope there is no doubt For anybody here seeing!
Paint on our feet, joy in our hearts Sun in the sky and a song in our lips We are all lovers of art It will be alright even if you slip!”
He improvised it all as he danced, with the joy of someone that was truly blessed by Dionysus. He hoped than his attitude got into Bas, as well as the ones around him, that cheered in joy as they collaborated in the art.
But something didn’t escape his eyes, and saw how a small child slipped like his partner and fell on her bottom. Hesiodos quickly let him go and moved towards her hastily, with the grace of someone that knew how not to fall down in difficult terrain, or when he was drunk.
He lowered towards the girl and smiled a warm smile, one that communicated that nothing was wrong. He extended a hand to her and said, “Do you need any help up, my young lady?”
At the root of it all, Evelli only ever wanted her daughters to be happy. She was no Mama hell bent on only her own joy. However, Evelli's version of happiness at the end of the day was different as compared to that of her daughters. To Evelli, her girls were young yet, and saw love and all those feelings as necessary. But Evelli's years among court and the stories Nomiki had told her meant that she knew without power and status, love could only bring one so far when it came to happiness and long-term satisfaction. Love was no guarantee for happiness if one was poor and begging for their next meal. Call her a realist, but she did not believe a fig that 'love conquers all'.
Still, for Imma to enjoy herself was a small price to pay for now. And with her already soiled from the clay, Evelli saw no long-term harm if her youngest wished to join the fracas, and merely nodded as she watched her youngest take off.
It didn't take long before more joined, a familiar figure of the merchant Nana favored also coming into view and joining the fray of people squishing in paint on the large canvas on the ground. The matriarch wrinkled her nose as she tried to imagine feeling such liquid sloshed around at her feet. Having been kept a lady raised by the House of Leventi her whole life, the woman had no wish to get such a mess on herself. Imma definitely got that part of her from Georgios, for her husband was no stranger to getting his hands down and dirty when it came to helping people sometimes, bless his heart. Evelli did love her husband... but sometimes he could be too kind for his own good.
From a distance, Evelli peered to watch, but did not manage to catch exactly what was going on as the people of the Agora in Argothia crowded around the canvas to watch the proceedings. Evelli could only hear the songs and words of the bard as they floated above the heads to be heard audibly by the matriarch standing a distance away, and it was there she stood, just some distance away from the knot of people at the unconventional display of art. Evelli had told Imma she could return if and when she was done, and she was not a woman who backed down from her word afterall.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
At the root of it all, Evelli only ever wanted her daughters to be happy. She was no Mama hell bent on only her own joy. However, Evelli's version of happiness at the end of the day was different as compared to that of her daughters. To Evelli, her girls were young yet, and saw love and all those feelings as necessary. But Evelli's years among court and the stories Nomiki had told her meant that she knew without power and status, love could only bring one so far when it came to happiness and long-term satisfaction. Love was no guarantee for happiness if one was poor and begging for their next meal. Call her a realist, but she did not believe a fig that 'love conquers all'.
Still, for Imma to enjoy herself was a small price to pay for now. And with her already soiled from the clay, Evelli saw no long-term harm if her youngest wished to join the fracas, and merely nodded as she watched her youngest take off.
It didn't take long before more joined, a familiar figure of the merchant Nana favored also coming into view and joining the fray of people squishing in paint on the large canvas on the ground. The matriarch wrinkled her nose as she tried to imagine feeling such liquid sloshed around at her feet. Having been kept a lady raised by the House of Leventi her whole life, the woman had no wish to get such a mess on herself. Imma definitely got that part of her from Georgios, for her husband was no stranger to getting his hands down and dirty when it came to helping people sometimes, bless his heart. Evelli did love her husband... but sometimes he could be too kind for his own good.
From a distance, Evelli peered to watch, but did not manage to catch exactly what was going on as the people of the Agora in Argothia crowded around the canvas to watch the proceedings. Evelli could only hear the songs and words of the bard as they floated above the heads to be heard audibly by the matriarch standing a distance away, and it was there she stood, just some distance away from the knot of people at the unconventional display of art. Evelli had told Imma she could return if and when she was done, and she was not a woman who backed down from her word afterall.
At the root of it all, Evelli only ever wanted her daughters to be happy. She was no Mama hell bent on only her own joy. However, Evelli's version of happiness at the end of the day was different as compared to that of her daughters. To Evelli, her girls were young yet, and saw love and all those feelings as necessary. But Evelli's years among court and the stories Nomiki had told her meant that she knew without power and status, love could only bring one so far when it came to happiness and long-term satisfaction. Love was no guarantee for happiness if one was poor and begging for their next meal. Call her a realist, but she did not believe a fig that 'love conquers all'.
Still, for Imma to enjoy herself was a small price to pay for now. And with her already soiled from the clay, Evelli saw no long-term harm if her youngest wished to join the fracas, and merely nodded as she watched her youngest take off.
It didn't take long before more joined, a familiar figure of the merchant Nana favored also coming into view and joining the fray of people squishing in paint on the large canvas on the ground. The matriarch wrinkled her nose as she tried to imagine feeling such liquid sloshed around at her feet. Having been kept a lady raised by the House of Leventi her whole life, the woman had no wish to get such a mess on herself. Imma definitely got that part of her from Georgios, for her husband was no stranger to getting his hands down and dirty when it came to helping people sometimes, bless his heart. Evelli did love her husband... but sometimes he could be too kind for his own good.
From a distance, Evelli peered to watch, but did not manage to catch exactly what was going on as the people of the Agora in Argothia crowded around the canvas to watch the proceedings. Evelli could only hear the songs and words of the bard as they floated above the heads to be heard audibly by the matriarch standing a distance away, and it was there she stood, just some distance away from the knot of people at the unconventional display of art. Evelli had told Imma she could return if and when she was done, and she was not a woman who backed down from her word afterall.