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[color=9B9F94][h3][b]Velles 19th[/b][/h3]
[sub][b]Location:[/b] Zengali - Mezegol
[b]Day of the week:[/b] Victendes
[b]Time:[/b] Evening
[b]Characters:[/b] Zarina, Biby, Horus, The Blue Beauty, Ayla, Taleja [@Ti], Vuvu [@dragonpiece], Leon [@Jumbus][/sub]
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[center][h3][url=https://youtu.be/mKBp74KWo4Q]♪[/url][/h3][/center]

Like an orange blur, dusk had passed and made way for the clear, starry skies of Severa. Before she could regain some lucidity, Zarina found herself gawking at the burial ceremonies from afar, shoulder leaned against a tree and overall looking mightily suspicious. How did she get here? The details of it she could hardly recall, like a routine she had done a thousand times. But she was there, body restored but mind not quite whole. 

Widows cried, men lost their bravado and children stayed strong from their hurting, singular parents if they didn’t join the mothers in anguish. It was like any other funeral, with the themes of the sea not unknown to the coastal girl. She owed it to the men that had lost their lives to be there, but she did not have the courage to, as an outsider, impose herself as the one who couldn’t have done more. She knew they wouldn’t see it that way, but it was a good excuse to save herself some more grief.

A smart decision, she had come to find, as all this time lost to an ailing mind had produced a most curious fruit, still fresh in the mind and intangible - begging to be made real. Inspired, and with the sounds of celebration in the horizon, Zarina had a mission.

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One blue chicken. Twenty seven contestants. One Virangish. One little Hippoboi. One shadow.

Zarina stood among veterans and savvy locals, a fish quite literally out of water with a strange animal in her bag. In an act that resembled a certain degree of self-consciousness, she left the bag onto one of the many tables used by the people to share the many feasts shared for the event. There was a conspicuous bump inside of it. 

[color=#E5E4E2]“Winner gets the chicken?”[/color] she inquired with a lazy index finger pointed at the animal’s cage.

[color=blue]"That is right missy! But she is a favourite this year. Will you be bringing a team?"[/color] the young host inquired with immeasurable cheekiness.

Zarina shrugged. [color=#E5E4E2]“I don’t think so, no.”[/color] her gold hues brushed through the many that had now taken the role of gawkers. [color=#E5E4E2]“More glory alone, right?”[/color]

A wave of chuckles and snickers resonated in response. 

[color=blue]"Courageous! You are taking the true gauntlet. Know you will have to do so without magic. Are you still ready?"[/color]

[color=#E5E4E2]“Hmm? Oh yeah, sure.”[/color]

The other contesting didn’t stop in their condescension. 

[color=red]“Delusional foreigners again, the thresher has them all worked up up there.”[/color]

[color=orange]“Brave girl, heh heh.”[/color]

[color=yellow]“Laugh all you want, we still have all these fools to deal with.”[/color]

Before long, they were all set to begin the game. Once the shot was fired and the panicked chicken unleashed, all sprinted, including Zarina. She was going to play the game like anyone else, there was no doubt about it.

Many frontliners already met some unfortunate accidents with their overzealous efforts to catch the unusually swift and rowdy avian. A couple already gave up after feeling the pressure from the over two dozen men and women. Zarina, looking to still be in some zoned-out state, simply stayed with the peloton. None had gotten too close yet. Not until a good six or so had blown off the event in favour of another opportunity opening.

The fat had been trimmed a little. And then the first incident occurred. A young and athletic woman just … Didn’t feel all that energetic anymore. Like she hadn’t slept all night. She nearly tripped! Eyelids heavy and calves a tad number, she opted to sit out. The same happened to some of the more aggressive runners. 

Soon enough, Zarina was one of the more invested players by simply remaining content with her job. The mages sensed no real drawing from her form, or any participant either. 

They were like flies. Eventually, only a few not-so-threatening obstacles remained, and of course the chicken. The lazulite avian she was keen on saving - none could doubt her reasons, as a Darhannic. Given that a few of the drowsy and worn out contestants were also aligned with such a goal, suspicion had no real direction. The chicken faltered too, barely able to flap its wings and scratch an unburdened Zarina from gently sweeping it into her arms in a maner that it quickly found a desire to roost.

A winner, one that many were unsure to celebrate for. Well, the contestants anyway, but the cheers of the audience that had been paying as much attention to their meals, ware and other events as the competition itself wailed with their vuvuzelas. 

Chicken secured, back into a cage for the Virangish to claim. So too was another avian - a black one that had been hopping from rooftop to rooftop with a little something in its unusually dextrous wings.

[color=black]"Zazzy Zazzy! I follow! FOLLOW!"[/color] rapid nods came from the pitch black monkeybird holding none other than Biby.

[color=#E5E4E2]“You did a very good job, Horus.”[/color] praised the mildly content owner. Biby, on the other hand, was antsy and quickly hopped back into his portable bag-home, while Horus was allowed to visit a few colourful things before being brought back home for bedtime.

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Zarina’s grand revelation brought her to the next destination: Vuvu. Few foreigners found value in these obnoxiously loud instruments. The Virangish was no different. But there was something they were good at: Being loud and far reaching.

A sack full of magi was dropped before the Vuvuzela queen. It prompted a curious set of blinks from the woman. Nearly a hundred of these coins! For vuvuzelas?!

[color=gold]"M-miss!"[/color] the great Vuvu, said to be quite the terror, was caught off guard. [color=gold]"If it is a joke, it is of bad taste! After a funeral, Stagfulaizah ahidi …"[/color]

[color=#E5E4E2]“Not a joke.”[/color] said the teen with the regally blue chicken still in a cage held in one hand and a hipped sticking out of her bag over the opposite shoulder. She smiled. [color=#E5E4E2]“I want as many as you can offer. And a carpenter. I definitely need a carpenter.”[/color] the way she talked, one would think monotone, but it was more so overly casual for the situation. Crazy was one’s first conclusion. Was this why so many had died? 

Vuvu furrowed her eyebrows. [color=gold]"No. I don’t trust this money."[/color] she waved in dismissal.

[color=#E5E4E2]“Why?”[/color] a confused Zarina tilted her head.

[color=gold]"It’s suspicious, and I have a reputation to maintain! What if others want a treasure from Vuvu? Eh? Today is not a day for greed."[/color]

[color=#E5E4E2]“Vuvu.”[/color] Zarina spoke after a brief pause. [color=#E5E4E2]“You will be the hero of Zengali. I know you will. Your Vuvuzelas are the key.”[/color] she spoke with conviction and a completely unflinching expression. [color=#E5E4E2]“I need at least twenty. And-”[/color]

A finger rose for Vuvu to stand by and then it reached for the inside of her top - a leather jacket that resembled what many other sailors wore. Out came a black scale - or rather a fragment of one. One of a kind, unlike any dragon scale one had seen before, and Zengali had its fair share of exotic animal imports.

[color=gold]"Is this to, as they say, sweeten the deal?"[/color] a sceptical Vuvu regarded Zarina, wary.

[color=#E5E4E2]“No. It’s my bail for your treasure.”[/color] the item was posed right by the bag for the woman to claim. [color=#E5E4E2]“I will return it. You can keep my treasure.”[/color] a more expression look came to be, one that pleaded.

Vuvu reflected for a moment. What did she truly have to lose?

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[hider=A Questionnaire]What is your favorite color? Silver.
Do you prefer Silk or Cotton? Silk.
If you could go on a date, would you prefer a lovely gondola ride while being serenaded by your lover or a simple seaside dinner under the light of the 5 moons? [s]Seaside[/s] Gondola.
Favorite part of yourself? My Eyes
What must your partner have? Tenacity. And Humour.
Available or closed? Closed right now.
Even or odd? Even.
Favorite fruit? Date.
Valleys or Mountains? I like both. But Mountains.
Lor or moons? And if moons, how many? Moons. Until Oraff blesses me. [/hider]

A questionnaire was given, but attention was diverted to the sheer mass of popularity the Mbita and Chika service had garnered. Slow business, but good business. However, Zarina did not have all night. A breather was perhaps not the worst idea, and the fabric she was about to propose was going to be tactically used to usurp some attention.

Then appeared familiar faces. A blonde girl, one she had far too much fondness for despite the glaring flaws and warning signs. A distraction. A deterrent. And then there was another blonde, this one a man. A ghost, she felt almost. How? She did not know. Was she growing delusional? Was all this just some massive daze? Or did she die from the thresher attack?

The fabric initiative had to be delayed. A disruption in her unusually smooth plan. Where to next? 

The chicken woke up. She could not think. A break was in order - an excuse to go back to her group’s retreat. There, she’d find Taleja, and ensure the cup had fallen into her scholastic hands. From there, the intellectual of the group could reinforce her theory. But the night was not over. There remained one more step to her operation.

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For an established socialite and rumoured dancer, Zarina failed to deliver any sort of notable performance. The festival raged with energy and she partook enough to avoid ringing any concerning looks, but there was little excitement in this one's spirit. Monotone and distracted. Anxious, even. Information on the recent incident had spread with the memorial ceremony she felt obligated to attend. It was no surprise that, once she had found the boisterous Sun King between tents, hidden in plain sight, she lacked the distinct excitement many others were keen on showing off before the big day.

[color=#E5E4E2]“On a scale of one to that Enthish girl you brought over, how anxious has tomorrow really got you?”[/color] was her opening, a clumsy attempt at humour. Clumsy due to the poorly veiled fact that it was actually genuine. [color=#E5E4E2]“I'm not feeling any of it.”[/color] she confessed, arms crossed and handbag slightly squeezed to her side. Inside rested a hippo that curiously studied the performer's demeanour. Uninteresting, it concluded, a total lack of yum. It hid back in to nap.

[color=#E5E4E2]“I'm not quite sure what to do once we actually do the job, either.”[/color] and with this second confession, a blue ribbon wrapped around her index finger emerged from her hand that had been previously tucked inside her elbow. [color=#E5E4E2]“I've asked Ayla to join us, if you don't mind.”[/color]

Leon practically frolicked up to Zarina still buzzing off the night's events. [color=fff200]"Zarina, I would pick 0. But I don't believe that was an option."[/color] It was an exaggeration but not entirely untrue. The [i]actual[/i] threat of the Thresher was the furthest thing from his mind, a confidence fueled by lacking knowledge.

He extended a hand to offer Zarina to dance but she retracted a little. It was then he took noticed of her crossed arms and reserved posture, then difference between them was night and day. Leon knew Zarina to be strong of both ability and will, so whatever had got her like this was not to be ignored. His expression turned to concern for a friend.

He considered asking if she was alright, but she spoke with direction, he didn't want to deter her from it for now. [color=fff200]"Of course I don't mind. It sounds like we three have a lot to discuss."[/color]

Ayla approached and wrapped her arms around Zarina, giving her tall friend a hug. [colour=009fff]“So, you are our big bad competition, eh?”[/colour] she teased. [colour=009fff]“The amount of factional one-upmanship when we all share the same goal is ridiculous. How are they going to determine if it’s a Sovereign Pact cannonball or a Central Alliance one that scored the killing blow? And ultimately, does it even matter if the threat has been dealt with?”[/colour]

She sighed and looked at the pair. [colour=009fff]“Enough of my ramblings. What is the goal of our discussion?”[/colour][/color]