Milenya watched as Taseer got herself painted up. It was an interesting process, and during it she was thinking of what she'd like to have done.<br/><br/>There was an ebb and flow in the movement of the crowd, though it looked more like some elaborate simulation of Brownian motion rather than anything more deliberate or focused, but the energy present was palpable, driven by the skillfully wielded music.<br/><br/><span style="color: #6495ED">"'Make me glow! Edges and centerline of my crests, trace the ridges of my neck, and, ah, give me face stripes like a Thessian shark, all curves."</span>She grinned at the painter.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>