[ It is to the Last Dance that Set will escort him, down into the Below and into the lacework alleys of luminous golds and reds, bronze lanterns and gauzy drapes, softly-jingling chains of jewelry and countless stalls, further branches wherein other businesses are displayed and live. It is an open-air environment underground, and Set points out some of his favorite spaces for Liem to look upon, as they make their way with the flow of the crowd towards the cavernous cistern decorated that evening in great greens and creams.
The theatre's seats are hewn from the stone wall surrounding it, with the theatre itself sitting across the shadowy waters of the cistern, the unknown depths of which are lit by the accumulated glow of thousands of candles. Galaniel waits for them at the door, a hulking insect-like entity of branching beetle-like mandibles and horns, feathered like some strange, unholy angel; in full attire, prepared for the show that will go on, he hands them their reserved tickets, the thrum of his mind a calm, dark thing shot through with newfound pleasures.
Have a good time, Master Talbott, he chirrups secretly, Set will not tell you, but he has been planning this for you since the moment the show was selected.
Set takes his time to play around, to cavort among some audience members that he seems to know or recognize. To introduce them to Liem, invitingly and without reservation; as the lights go down for the show, he takes his seat alongside the other man. The long slit up the side of his outfit for the night proves helpful, as he crosses one leg over the other to better lean himself into Liem's space. To gather the man's hand into his own and give him excited looks, thoughtful squeezes when the show begins.
The story is simple — a musical rendition of the historical ambitions of someone who had not sought to become Springstar's Tribune, but was forever heralded as the one who would have been their best. A woman who was the second wife of a political leader, beloved by the city for her faith, her charity, her compassion. A rising star, robbed of her short life, her dutiful and loving life, by illness. And even until the end, she clung to the people she loved — defiant, shattered, impassioned.
With the last notes of her final song fading with the thunderous applause, and the evening's showing concluded with bows and flowers — Set pauses outside of the doors, to look back upon Liem Talbott. Silent, as if awaiting condemnation or approval with the same willingness he has shown at all times. ]
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The theatre's seats are hewn from the stone wall surrounding it, with the theatre itself sitting across the shadowy waters of the cistern, the unknown depths of which are lit by the accumulated glow of thousands of candles. Galaniel waits for them at the door, a hulking insect-like entity of branching beetle-like mandibles and horns, feathered like some strange, unholy angel; in full attire, prepared for the show that will go on, he hands them their reserved tickets, the thrum of his mind a calm, dark thing shot through with newfound pleasures.
Have a good time, Master Talbott, he chirrups secretly, Set will not tell you, but he has been planning this for you since the moment the show was selected.
Set takes his time to play around, to cavort among some audience members that he seems to know or recognize. To introduce them to Liem, invitingly and without reservation; as the lights go down for the show, he takes his seat alongside the other man. The long slit up the side of his outfit for the night proves helpful, as he crosses one leg over the other to better lean himself into Liem's space. To gather the man's hand into his own and give him excited looks, thoughtful squeezes when the show begins.
The story is simple — a musical rendition of the historical ambitions of someone who had not sought to become Springstar's Tribune, but was forever heralded as the one who would have been their best. A woman who was the second wife of a political leader, beloved by the city for her faith, her charity, her compassion. A rising star, robbed of her short life, her dutiful and loving life, by illness. And even until the end, she clung to the people she loved — defiant, shattered, impassioned.
With the last notes of her final song fading with the thunderous applause, and the evening's showing concluded with bows and flowers — Set pauses outside of the doors, to look back upon Liem Talbott. Silent, as if awaiting condemnation or approval with the same willingness he has shown at all times. ]