lxwlers

[lxwlers]

[lxwlers]

How far had her coworker gone! Mayor of Destarin. Ivy was skeptical about the whole thing - the Guild thrived off of the fact that there was nothing in the city preventing their outreach, and there was always the thought that others would be… less than enthused about the idea of a governmental body in their city. Things seemed to run themselves… for the most part. But having Merry in that particular position of power seemed exciting - he had the ability to think outside the box. Hopefully no one tried anything malicious on him. Then again, he was well-liked within the city, so she sort of doubted it.

Ivy giggled when he came down to meet her. His carefree nature was one she envied, and found herself thoroughly enjoying whenever they spent time together. He gave her the much needed reminder not to take things too seriously. She stood to meet him, her strapless maroon dress rippling around her feet, and her long curls cascaded down to the small of her back. “Why, thank you,” she said, giving a tiny curtsy in response. “Oh, gladly, we have much celebrating to do after your promotion, anyway.” She extended their hands above, leading to twirl him around. “Wine? Red or white?”

Despite his newfound position as governor, which was wholly unexpected for the tiefling though delighted him immensely, he had decided to maintain a majority of his time performing as he usually did. It was his singular greatest joy and truly he had no mind for stuffy political babble so needed to clear out the cobwebs of boring things in the best way he knew how, by attempting to wow and amaze and garner a few laughs out of his darling audience. His performances at Scourge House tended to go over much better than at Blood, Sweat and Beers, the patrons of this club more enthused by the bizarre and extreme. Following his performance, Merry met the eye of Ivy and he promptly went over to her directly afterward, not minding at all that he was still sweaty from flipping around the stage, not minding that his stage makeup was streaking and smudged around his eyes as it usually was when he exerted himself, and bounded toward her with all the enthusiasm in the world as if he hadn't just performed and was still lively enough to do it all again.

"Dear one," the tiefling made a great show of bowing lowly before her, the crown of his dark curled hair dipping, jagged edges of broken horns peaking through as he had lowered his head and disappearing once he stood upright once more, "You are positively bewitching. Why, I could gobble you up right now," he giggled, now moving to lean in closer to her, whispering loudly into her ear, "What say, you and I abscond with a fresh bottle from the bar and run away together?"

[lxwlers]

Ivy nodded diligently at that, feigning that she understood and agreed with all his sentiments. Though the Scourge house had extended family of hers and they often passed in and out of each other’s lives at a moment’s notice, a temple and whole coven felt different than what the Guild was. She could only imagine what went on behind closed doors in a place like that. Every time she passed Hastalik by, he looked stressed out - to a point where she had accepted that was just his default state of being. The Guild never made her feel like that.

She was confident that everything she was stood against everything he believed in. If she were kinder, she would have backed off a bit, offered sympathy to someone who couldn’t control the upbringing he was raised in. But, she wasn’t all that nice. Hastalik was good looking too, and she particular found it shameful that he was off limits if he wanted to stay in the good graces of his family.

But she’d get over it - besides, was there really that much harm in teasing?

“I like bothering you, though, you make it so easy,” she smirked. Her arms crossed, and her weight shifted to one hip as she sized him up. “You get all flustered, your nose flares out– like that, see?”

"He is my biological uncle," Hastalik countered her argument firmly - irritation not remotely subtle - that the man was some sort of figure of relation to him. Ivy, to his knowledge, was the epitome of everything his coven said women could be. She was a monster, to begin with, an evil creature made from another creature of evil, and though he'd never said so to her face other's in his coven likely had and surely she knew he had thought it or at least thought to think it... "Covens have leaders, that's not abnormal."

Hastalik wasn't half concerned with the man smoking a pipe, it wasn't like he was the one who had implied fresh, he'd just said air, and so her desire to mock him for it because of the smoker mostly felt illogical to the young man. "It's still air."

Shifting in his robes there was an obvious furrow to his brows not even the fabric could hide. "You could always bother someone else, Ivy," he commented, after all she had approached him, why should his words not be a little biting if hers were? "Presumably you do this to your family constantly."

[lxwlers]

“Don’t sell yourself short, I’ve gotten lucky every time I’ve come in here, I think,” she said. Ivy enjoyed details herself, but on her jewelry - almost everything she owned was a statement piece, and any garment she had after that was typically on the plainer side, to let those shine. Bella did a great job at combining those, she thought. And the vampire always seemed to nail getting the right colors for Ivy. She’s lived a long time and likes what she likes, but she felt more inclined to try newer things since she’s been regularly coming to Bella’s boutique.

“Neither,” she answered, as she stepped away from the curtain to a folding partition to change into something else. “Well, I guess I could use these for that too. But I’m just freshening up the wardrobe a bit. I was in the mood for some shiny new things.” Ivy carefully slid the dress down her knees and stepped out of it, hanging it back up and pulling on a robe so she wouldn’t parade about the shop in the nude. She made her way back to where the vampire sat, looking over her shoulder at what she had in the book. The last fabric, the color with the darker florals towards the edges caught her eye and she pointed a sleek nail at it. “I *adore* that,” she told her. Then she chuckled. “I prefer to get others to fight for me, I’d much rather be in these.” Ivy leaned against a nearby table. “Maybe something strapless in that, ruched against here–” She gestured to her midsection. “Could look nice?”

"Not quite sure that I always do," she reasoned. Trial and error typically tended to be the way. It was hard for Bella upon seeing someone to not simply dress them as she liked, to style them as she desired to work, even if she did always consider someone's origins when starting her process. The young vampire was a fan of excessive detailing, this rather tended to be her downfall, but Ivy's beauty was not one that had, in the end, loaned itself to garments of excess. Ivy was tall and despite her species seemed to have skin as soft as cashmere and colouring that favoured boldness. Bella had, with time, found a place with specific fabric choices and thoughtful detailing.

Stepping away from the pedestal that, to one side, was surrounded by mirrors, so clients might observe what she had placed on them, Bella moved back behind her small desk to withdraw a small book of fabrics and drawings with 'Ivy' written on it. Bella had references for all of her regulars where she put ideas and included new fabrics she had purchased. Since Ivy's last visit it had grown. Actually a few things had changed in the small room of Red Thread dedicated to 'Craft by Chevalier' as Bella labelled all of her items. The large closet that was typically in one corner of the room had disappeared and was now replaced with new fabrics, and the sewing machine she used had been upgraded, no longer slightly rusted.

"Have something to attend of your mother's or trying to impress the guild?" she asked, trying to find a black fabric that might work amongst the book. "Because if it is simply about making a statement for the guild could I offer an alternative...?" she held up a drawing of a sleek bodice with a statement 'mermaid tail' that did not fall into the more basic elements of the silhouette. "I could do the bodice in this fabric so it almost looks like it is just an extension of you, and then this for a subtle flower like base so it's almost like the ground is carrying you."

"My suggestion, at least, since I cannot make fighting leathers," Bellamy commented. Her needle would break with so much dense fabric and beyond that she didn't yet know the practicalities of what was required for armour to be useful so she tended to redirect people to Deri Dovme.

[lxwlers]

Ivy had spent a long time in the fair city of Destarin, and luckily, there were many other faces that had done just the same. It was comforting, knowing others in the neighborhood for so long without the threat of age or mortal ailments coming between (Ivy wasn’t one who conspired with too many mortals, admittedly. Most of her family and tastes in friends were on the supernatural side). Ivy didn’t always like change, and didn’t have to face it so often given her species and how she spent her time.

Malas was one of those people. They had arrived in the city under far different circumstances - Ivy moving after her father had passed away to be with her mother’s side of the family, a culture shock given where she had come from. She had often liked to take long walks in the city, at night preferably, and was never all that concerned about anything happening to her. One harsh scratch, to draw blood, and her venom would paralyze the recipient. That happened to occur with Malas, a striking conversation with a striking man in a tavern by the docks. A simple wager she had lost - and while she was fine with losing back then, what she wasn’t fine with was seeing how more of her coin was taken out from under her nose before she even realized. Chastising herself for being naive came later, but she quickly followed him out from the bar and with one clawed slice… he didn’t go down.

Expecting some kind of resistance - her one saving grace - and seeing none, there was a still moment where he now had a deep cut in the back of his neck and they both were face to face. They ended up having a good laugh about it and after seeing his living conditions, didn’t even argue over the stolen coin. She appreciated his tenacity, though, and through that a friendship had blossomed over the years. Ivy would darken his doorstep and vice versa in boredom, in excitement, in frustration, and she found he was a good confidant - there was an honesty about him she felt she didn’t get from many others.

Ivy was reading a book she had checked out of a library earlier, nude under his covers while he was off in another room, perhaps getting redressed. Neither of them got much sleep, so while it was the dead of night for others, she was still wide awake. “How’s the brothel?” she called. “I feel like I should ask how your life is going every so often, I haven’t for awhile.”

@deathsdogma

[lxwlers]

“Makes sense,” she answered, half-listening as she removed the pins in her hair next, what kept it in place so that it wasn’t flying too far out of place as she was dancing. Ivy liked the windswept look, but it got frizzy and unsightly if she let her curls run amok too much. Sometimes Ivy wished she had capabilities that extended past anything physical. Mind games, and manipulation like that felt like something that could have been fun for her. She didn’t want to get her hands dirty - her pointed nails could get so hard to keep polished sometimes.

Ivy had turned away from the mirror and towards her mother’s direction as she further explained their reasonings, and their plans for upholding their own sense of order among the guild. She was fascinated by how she handled things, trying to imagine if she would have done something different in her position. Not in a way to be competitive, or an I can do better sort of thought, but Ivy liked to test herself. What would have been deemed too harsh, too light - it was a delicate balance, she had long understood. Fear and respect lied on opposite sides of a careful tightrope. “A shame I was on stage, and had to miss the real show,” she remarked with a shrug. Then she smiled - tired from time in the spotlight, but happy with how her performance went tonight. “Thank you,” she said. “I like it up there. Same routines, but it still feels different every night.” Ivy stood then, heading over to a rack of costumes to change. “Will you be staying longer, or heading home?”

Evelyn waited for her daughter who seemed to pause. The succubi thinking on how upstanding Ivy's father had always been. aware that in a lot of ways Evelyn was such a contrast. It wasn't like she was unkind, but she certainly did things in a way that was perhaps not what the girl's father would have done. When she eventually did answer, wanting to know, Evelyn couldn't help her own thoughts lingering on the man, hopeful he would not be disappointed in the ways his daughter had changed since his death.

"We have establishments that pay for our protection and when people decide not to simply understand such places should be left alone we need to make sure an example is set," she began, eyes watching her daughter's expression as she spoke to try and note how uncomfortable what she said was potentially making her. "A changeling had been robbing one of them, probably thought so long as they looked different every time they'd get away with it, but we can't maintain our hold if people think they can slip through the cracks. Some of the guild grabbed them and when they were brought here I made sure they wouldn't be able to change their appearance for a while. Broke each bone in their fingers, reminded them they can't slip by. Some of the other guild members are working them over now, they'll dump them in front of the establishment so other's see. We'll either find what was stolen in their home, or we'll make up for the loss, make sure they know they aren't paying us for nothing."

Ivy seemed more contented by her compliment though and Evelyn wondered how much Ivy cared for the business side of things so much as she potentially enjoyed the applause. It didn't quite come to her mind that perhaps her daughter's reaction was less about having applause so much as getting her flowers from her mother. "You have always been exceptionally talented, love."

[lxwlers]

For many children, the idea that your parent was involved in any... adult activities were likely the topic of uncomfortable thought, let alone conversation, but Ivy never felt that way with her mother. It was how she lived. Truthfully, she herself was always a little relieved that that particular aspect wasn't passed down to her. She was her mother's daughter, and it wasn't a difficult feat to find someone to take home for a few hours - or the evening, depending on how it went - but she always felt that the nature of a succubi required a lot more maintenance, and Ivy counted herself lucky with the abilities she did have.

She grew up knowing that her parents weren't soulmates, certainly not true love, but valued their friendship as that was all she understood out of parents. As the years went by and her and Evelyn grew closer, she got used to seeing 'friends', or other nutritional flings pass through the various places her mother lived. Rarely did she see any in Evelyn's house, though. When she had entered, down the hallway into the sitting room, Ivy was almost taken aback by the squared shoulders of a man staring at a painting. Quickly doing a once over of the room and found her mother was not around, she carefully stepped closer. "And who might you be?" she sighed. "Can't get enough of my mother, can you?"

@axius-scourge

[lxwlers]

Ivy tilted her head and hummed. "Uncle, Daddy - don't all cults have some fatherly type figure they attached themselves to?" she asked, before clearing her throat. "Sorry. Coven. My mistake." As if that was the first time that slip of the tongue ever occurred.

She probably didn't have much room to talk - surely people spoke of the Scourge guild in unfavorable ways. But she wouldn't be caught dead covering her face the way he did. She knew enough about his coven to not be fans of them - their treatment of women, for starters, but the way they shrouded themselves, doing everything in the shadow of the night because they knew the common person disagreed with just about everything they stood for. At least, that was all she gathered. Truthfully, she only knew enough to be able to tease and bother Hastalik this way. Ivy didn't particularly want to get him in trouble, but didn't seem to care if he did or not.

"Ah, air..." Ivy trailed off, her eyes glancing over to a man smoking a pipe not three feet from them, stepped out of the pub to take his time. The slightest breeze carried the puff of smoke in their direction. "Fresh."

The witch frowned as the young woman approached him, in truth it was all she could see of him, the rest draped in soft black linen, mask covering his lips. It would have potentially actually hid his identity if it was not how everyone in his coven dressed, the attire meant more for hiding, rather than going about town, and yet they were not meant to leave without it. What likely made it obvious he was one the coven members she could tease without having vitriol spat back in her face was that her slender form a few inches taller than his own short height.

"He's my Uncle, not my father," he responded, as though the difference mattered all that much. Surely having been in town as long as she had Ivy had seen a myriad of his family members - she may have even seen his mother - but Hastalik, despite his annoyance at her talking to him, never responded as the others had or would. The vulgar woulds his family and coven used to speak on women were not terms Hastalik enjoyed repeating, even if he was often forced to. His Uncle the worst of all, which tended to disappoint women who on first approach simply saw a handsome and tall man leading a group of witches that fought evil and ended up being spat on. Those that did not suffer such a response got all they desired, until the coven had the information it needed and they were cast aside, killed so far as Hastalik had ever understood.

Shifting his posture so he was slightly further from Ivy Hastalik's furrowed brows became slightly less tense. "And no." He resisted the urge to share that he was allowed out more often now, because he had a mission. "I am just getting some air."

[lxwlers]

While Ivy wasn't a fan of the style of the house, she knew it made her mother happy, and she always wanted to be in her good graces. For starters, she was her only living parent, and had been for quite a long time. On the other hand, the Scourge house was full of a long history of power, of influence, and Ivy was drawn to that like a moth to a flame. She wanted to make herself an undeniable asset to it.

Ivy stopped for a moment, thinking - did she want to hear about it? "A little, actually," she said. She was curious what sort of things her mother dealt with on a somewhat day-to-day basis. Over time, as she started to chisel away at Evelyn's resolve and ask question after question, wanting to know the ins and outs of the guild, it became easier to convince her to keep Ivy in the loop. Though she beamed slightly at the compliment, as she finished taking off her jewelry. "I'm glad you thought so," she said. The silks were always her favorites, she could stay up there for hours if she so desired.

Evelyn sat on the small lounge in the space, a piece of furniture as old as the establishment itself, fabric on it worn in areas from how often it had been used over the course of almost two centuries. For Evelyn it was all hers, she had earned it when she helped her husband kill his parents, when the pair of them had sewed dishonour amongst the guild members and aligned their loyalty to her instead. She had bought none of it, she had clawed her way in for her sisters and herself, but, perhaps unfortunately for her eldest daughter she never considered how out of place it could all make her feel that the name on everything was that of a family that only her older brother was the remaining member of. He was the only true Scourge left on the mortal plane.

When the door opened Evelyn did not shift her posture but she did adjust the ruffles of her high slit so it covered some more of the woman's cream coloured thigh. Her own style and preference was in every aspect of the establishment, as though simply by the facade of the original Scourge family she had been drawn to her husband because he got to exist in it. It had been more than that, she had loved him for so much more, but it had been the start of it. She wanted what he had. She did not want to live in a tiny home with her mother's and sister - Lilith fortunate enough to have been born when Evelyn already had her wealth -, she did not wish to have to watch how they spent their gold, she did not wish to dress in linens.

This did not mean however she expected each of her children to look as she did. In truth, beyond the stage, Evelyn thought it endearing the way her children seemed to hold onto so much of their father's, especially the ones that had passed. While no romantic love had blossomed between Evelyn and Ivy's father she had loved him as one could love a dear and trusted friend. Perhaps she could have loved him, if the wounds of her husband had not still been so fresh. Evelyn did not live in what if's however, but she had seen no flaw in him that would have pushed love away.

"I did," she acknowledged with a slow nod of her head. "I missed the first half, I was dealing with something." Specifically she had been repeatedly breaking the bones of a changeling who had been breaking into one of the establishments her guild protected. "Would you like to know or would you rather not?" Evelyn asked, as for the longest time she had intended to shield her daughter and yet in the past few years it seemed she was quite determined to include herself.

"What I did see was excellent however," she assured her daughter.

[lxwlers]

Ivy wasn't a main attraction, or really any reason why people came to the Scourge house. She didn't think, at least. Rarely did she perform alone, but with others soaring through the air as she would, ready to catch or throw or whatever else the aerial performances needed. Often, when she was by herself, it was a different performance altogether, down to the costuming and the music choices. No, many of her shifts were spent as general eye candy - which she was fine with - above the heads of patrons, dancing among the silks to add to the ambience.

And when that was done, she didn't often linger around the shows. She had seen them many times in the decades she's worked here, and had ample opportunity to watch. Sometimes, though, she reserved special time for when Merry was performing. It was the first show since he had been elected governor, and it was delightful - he was just as fun and charismatic as she remembered. As he wrapped up, she spent a special wave when they locked eyes, motioning with her head to come join her when he pleased - whether that was immediately, or after a trip to the dressing rooms, that was up to him.

@merrymockthejester

[lxwlers]

Tea readings and anything that had to do with future was not something Ivy typically liked to indulge in. She could remember her aunt attempting to teach her to read leaves, but all she could see was just dark mush at the bottom of the cup and the desire for more honey in tea. Besides, Ivy didn't like the idea of knowing what was to come - the thought might have given her anxiety, but she had buried that wariness so far down that she herself couldn't tell. Now, it was just a general distaste.

This was the one rare time in the week where Ivy was in the mood to venture out of the comforts of her carefully constructed home, besides to work. But that was different - the silks were her art. And her aunt had just the right ingredients to make a soup that Ivy had been waiting to have since spring, when the air started to get warmer. She busied herself in the kitchen, seeing Lilith in the other room when she glanced up. "So who's life are you trying to scope out now?" she asked. "It had better not be mine."

@lilith-scourge

[lxwlers]

[lxwlers]

{ ivy lawler }

⊱ BASICS ⊰

NAME: Ivy Lawler NICKNAMES: N/A AGE: 130 BIRTHDAY: April 4 SPECIES: Half Gorgon OCCUPATION: Aerialist at Scourge House SEXUALITY: Bisexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single RESIDENCE: Home in Asharran FACECLAIM: Zendaya

[ TRIGGERS: DEATH ]

⊱ TRAITS ⊰

POSITIVE: Ambitious, Hard-working, Presentable, Brilliant NEGATIVE: Serious, Temperamental, Private, Vengeful STRENGTHS: Paralyzing Stare, Venom, Magic Blood, Supernaturally Enhanced WEAKNESSES: Holy Items, Mortal, Silver, Antivenom

⊱ BIOGRAPHY ⊰

The eldest daughter still came second - though the circumstances of Ivy Lawler's birth were not within her control, she fought to do just that with every other aspect of her life.

As a girl, all she understood that her mother was important in the city of Destarin, that she had many responsibilities and businesses that she helped keep afloat - but that was the sanitized version of her parentage. Raised by her human father, life was fairly normal in Crirtha where they lived, where he worked as a city stonemason. He taught Ivy much about stonework, and her own pastimes were spent making small statues in her spare time - a far cry from the towering buildings that her father helped construct, but adjacent enough to give her some sense of individuality. Ivy was a competitive child, whether it be in academics, in sport, or even just proving someone wrong about anything she believed she was better at - which was a long list. The spritely pre-teen had it all figured out.

While her father didn't want her growing up not knowing who her mother was, he didn't want her exposed to any kind of underground dealings or anything that could be deemed dangerous for a young girl, which the two of them agreed with. Visits with Evelyn were short and sweet, with letters of correspondence in between. Ivy had always know that her mother was not a regular human like her father - the horns were clear enough of a sign - but for the majority of her youth, no one suspected there was anything amiss.

Then came puberty.

The adult teeth grew in sharper, the nails became harder and pointed, and anyone that met her annoyed gaze would mysteriously stiffen up - including her father. Once that wore off, it was obvious that Ivy had indeed inherited more than they initially thought from Evelyn. The gorgon abilities must have been passed down through the women in the lineage, and as Ivy aged, more was starting to show. Soon her enhanced senses and abilities were manifesting, too hard to ignore among her peers. The knowledge of her poisonous venom and magic blood came later (and made for some interesting first times in Ivy's life) and, to her delight, her aging process began to slow way down the older she became.

Time had passed - she always looked the same, while her father had continuously aged. He didn't want to leave his court in his older age, so there was much traveling back and forth from Ivy, who was making up for lost time with her mother - now that they had so much more in common - and taking care of him, until his ultimate passing. Ivy mourned, not only her father, but the life she thought she would once have, of following in his footsteps. Of being human.

But too much time had gone by, and she had gotten too reliant on her capabilities. Ivy had grown closer with her mother, and her mother's side of the family. To pass the time and to learn the ins and outs of the family business, she took up dancing at the Scourge House to keep herself involved. Though she knew she wasn't the first born, and the guild would eventually fall to her brother, the child of her mother's love of her life, Ivy would do anything within her power to prove that she is truly the one who deserves it all.

The power, the glory, the influence. She was only human after all. Well… half human.

⊱ HEADCANONS ⊰

Performs aerial stunts at Scourge House. Prefers silks over anything else.

Style is very much of the finest material, flowing layers and thin material. Her skin is very sensitive, so she's very particular with what she wears.

Has a knack for archery that came later in life.

Because her father was a mason, Ivy's surprisingly handy with lots of tools. Her clawed nails and nimble fingers are blessings in this regard. Her pet projects are typically furniture, but she likes making flutes.

Is very intelligent. Reads a lot, but is very methodical, very step-by-step and always thinking things through.

Very poised, very put together. Never leaves the house looking anything but her best.

Not good at hiding her facial expressions - if she doesn't like you, you'll be well aware.

Occasionally smokes, but has a glass of red wine almost every night. Detests white wine.

Introverted, and something of a home body. Likes her space and her peace and quiet.

Her garden is her secret prized possession. She doesn't tell many people about it, and often pretends it's someone else taking care of it for her.

⊱ CONNECTIONS ⊰

Raelothstra Noluquth | Aunt Evelyn Scourge | Mother Lilith Scourge | Aunt

[lxwlers]

Ivy had lived in Destarin closing on a hundred years now, but still she never found herself bored. There was always something to do, someone to do, lots of people to interact with. It was a big city. And, Ivy wasn't someone who was very sociable, by her own admission. She was picky with where she spent her time, preferring the solitude of her own home where she could lose herself in books, or play music, or just about anything to her heart's content.

But when the mood struck and she ventured outside her house, she took advantage of it. Sometimes the desire to be around others was only good for one day a week.

The city was always beautiful at night, and that's when Ivy decided to take her walks around. Because she liked spending so much time by herself, and because the city was so big, she never felt like she would run out of things to do, or people to see. Besides, the desire to go out and be social was one that rarely occurred, so she had to take advantage when it did or else she'd keep herself inside for the rest of the week. Even then, she always seemed to limit her time out and about.

Seeing a familiar face, one she enjoyed teasing every time she saw him, knowing the consequences it could potentially bring, she sauntered over and leaned against the lamppost, where he was lurking just under. "Hello, Hastalik," she greeted, as if they were almost old friends. "Running errands for Daddy, so late at night?"

@hastalikanhci

[lxwlers]

There was admittedly few things Ivy enjoyed more than vanity.

It shouldn't have been that way - before, when she had lived with her father, she worked with him. Her hands were often dirty, dust always seemed to find every crevice of skin it could, always found its way under her bronze nails. She never put on makeup, never found herself wearing dresses. Now that was a hundred years ago, somewhat, and her tastes have had ample time to change, but there was nothing like the feeling of trying on a pretty new gown, to stare at herself in the mirror and try it out, turning, twisting, moving to see how it agreed with her body.

"How is it you always know what it is I look for?" Ivy smiled, seeing Bella past the mirror, tinkering at some fabric. "It's beautiful, and I have half a mind to ask for the same thing in black."

@bellamychevalier

[lxwlers]

Ivy's first few years up in the air, in her performances and practices, were kept to mostly groupwork, in whatever costumes they gave her, hair pinned and kept in a tight bun. However, the years were good to her, and as her comfort and talent grew, so did her trademarks. Her long hair was always flowing behind her, expertly curled. Dark makeup swept across her eyelids (just how she liked it), adorned in pearls and chiffon with her dance slippers tied halfway up her shins. Not her typical taste, but it was easy to slip into in the guise of the show. She'd soon change, right when she got back to her dressing room.

Technically, it didn't start as hers, but over the years of working there and very tactfully spreading out so much of her makeup and clothes and shoes and silks and anything else she could think of, it became hers, made official after she nailed the commissioned, gold plaque with her name on it to the door.

But it wasn't empty when she walked into it. Ivy didn't spare much of a surprised glance, just moved right to her vanity, to undo all the big pieces of her costume to gently put away. "So did you enjoy the show?"

@evelynscourge

[lxwlers]