Solo I see you.

[Quiarinox]

3rd of Spring 513 AV She was alone in the Basilika, everybody else having gone out to enjoy their rest. Danares was gone, Tain and his girl were gone, so was Daille. The loneliness made her itch with anticipation. She couldn't explain why it did that. It wasn't like she was actually lonely. There was just an unexpected absence of people present and they would return once they had finished whatever it was they liked to do while they were on their break. Maybe they were asleep? Quiarinox couldn't regret them that, even though she herself slept little, if at all, unless she had a really tiring time and the sun were out. She wandered, almost aimlessly, unwilling to step out into Lhavit and experience the lingering brisk touch of Winter upon the thawing city. The absence of snow was as bothersome as the quiet. She was one of those few people that actually enjoyed Winter and the cold it swept into the land. She missed it now. Between chairs set before pedestals and easels, she wove towards the center where the models had stood before they also left. They had their own little dias, those nameless people payed for just holding still for a bell before shifting and repeating the process. It was their own sort of honour when they themselves didn't have the talent or inclination to paint, draw, or sculpt for their kina. Those few times she had modeled, she disliked being unable to do anything besides breathe for a bell. Even if she didn't tire, she did grow sore and impatient and that often reflected in the art people made depicting her. She was so hard to placate after a day of modelling that she didn't understand how a person could base their lifetime around the profession. She moved on, returned to where the sculptors of special note that Tain had brought in usually sat, and began to circle their little pedestals with the half formed sculptures in malleable lumps made grotesque faces at her. She couldn't tell the skill levels of those who sat at these positions of honour, knowing that they possessed a skill she just couldn't hope to match unless the God of Luck, if there were one, decided to smile upon her and gift her hands with talent she didn't possess, yet. Looking at those glazed, dark faces without the features of normal faces left her to consider what the artists were trying to speak with them. Were the expressions of torment purposeful? She couldn't see the models they used from where she sat, so she had no idea if they were based off of the antics of the men and women modelling. She reached for one, looking to feel if it was as soft as it looked. "Excuse me!" A man shouted, shattering the silence and startling Quiarinox as her fingers brushed the surface of the clay. Be fake, she thought as she removed her hand, but whether or not that was a curse she didn't even know. She straightened and crossed her arms behind her like a guilty child caught with her hand in the proverbial cookie jar, and faced the person that had called out. She would have recognised that face anywhere and her heart sunk low in her chest as the human she had nearly knocked over the day before strode towards her, a very serious expression on his face. "I really don't like the fact that you're touching something I was working on," he said as he approached.[/left]