<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/ouaxT.jpg)</div><br/>Orianna was, surprisingly, enjoying the conversation and the company at the platform. When they all made their way to the mall, however, she was still quite glad for it. Her spiderlike hands had been itching to play her cello all day, and she tapped on the instrument's black case repeatedly on the way over. A smile played across her lips as she savored the anticipation of playing.<br/><br/>Upon arriving at the mall, the sluagh was content to look around for a bit before starting to set up. There were so many intriguing things happening – like people covering themselves in green body paint, the eshu apparently wrapping up a building, and goodness knows what else. Ellen said she was going to tag around with Orianna, and she was surprisingly okay with it – even enjoying the company of the pooka. Checking the time on a nearby clock, she realized she had to start setting up for her performance. Right on schedule, she bumped into her manager and frowned slightly. Frederick Jameson was a portly older man who constantly looked frazzled and unhappy. "Odette!" he exclaimed, as if surprised, and Orianna's eyebrow twitched. She had no fondness for her given human name. You've got to go set up! Come!" he declared, grabbing her free hand and tugging her to the stage. Orianna turned to look at Ellen and motioned with her head for the pooka to follow.<br/><br/>It seemed like the small makeshift stage Orianna was set to perform on was smack dab in the center of the available parking lot space. While Frederick had his back turned, Orianna looked to Ellen and hastily pulled off her veil. Of course, to mortals this made no difference, but any kithain could see the sluagh's face clearly now without the obscuring accessory in the way. Her eyes were bright violet, her facial features delicate and strong at once. The woman looked like a haunted and beautiful ghost. She offered the veil out to the pooka. "Ellen, if you'd like to watch me play I would be most honored. I hope you won't mind standing, as we don't seem to have any chairs," she explained. "After I'm done, I'll fulfill my promise to teach you about how the instrument works. Also, if you wouldn't mind holding my veil I would appreciate it." For once, she seemed to be buzzing with energy – it was still restrained, still in check, but it was apparent that she was excited.<br/><br/>With that, she stepped onstage, freeing her cello from the confines of the black leather case. Her touch with the instrument seemed to be more gentle than most people touched each other. After a bit of finagling, it was outfitted with a microphone and a quick plucking of the strings showed the sound system was working. Picking up her cello and taking a seat in the chair provided, she steadied the large string instrument and tightened her bow. She'd decided to warm up with one of her favorite pieces – the prelude of Bach's Cello Suite No. 1 (http://tinyurl.com/d7tabh). It was not a technically demanding piece, but it sounded beautiful all the same. With a deep breath, she began to play.<br/><br/>It was not music that seemed to fit Orianna, but somehow everything made sense. Where before the sluagh was a stiff, statuelike being more than anyone real or breathing, she suddenly came to life. Every sweeping motion of drawing her bow across the strings was exaggerated, her eyes closed in what looked like rapture. Even her facial expressions were more animated – certain notes and sections caused her eyebrows to raise and fall, to furrow in concentration and then relax again as if what she was doing took no effort. Orianna looked, for the first time that the other kithain had seen, alive. Her music was ringing loudly throughout the outdoors, reverberating even inside the mall to some degree. Her body swayed and moved, and more pieces of her long hair escaped the confines of her bun, covering her face and making her look more intense. As she drew the final note across the cello, her eyes finally opened and she allowed herself a grin.<br/><br/>She settled on another one of her favorite compositions (http://tinyurl.com/yf83xct) next, one that, again, seemed completely out of keeping with her character. This song was even brighter and more lively than the last, and involved the cellist using her instrument in a slightly non-traditional way by initially plucking and playing it as if it were a guitar. Once the plucking was done, she picked her bow back up off her lap and dove into playing again, holding the neck of her cello the way one would expect a lover to hold their partner. Her pale cheek tilted towards the instrument as she leaned into it, eyes closed, face holding an expression of ecstasy. This was her natural element. This was where she kept her joy. As her long, pale fingers danced across the cello's neck, Orianna felt as though she could fly.<br/><br/>The sluagh played a few more songs, each performance as full of energy and life as the first. When her allotted time of thirty minutes was up, she decided to end on a cover of At Last by Etta James (http://tinyurl.com/6lplv33). People always enjoyed covers of songs they recognized, and this was a perfect fit for the cello. By this point, Orianna's messy bun had come completely undone during her performances. Her locks, falling down to her waist in waves, looked more like liquid obsidian than any sort of hair. The soulful expression on her face as she played was full of a deep longing that even the fae herself may not have understood. The sound of the cello combined with the way she played and the wistful look on her face almost produced the illusion that the cello was her voice, and she was singing as passionately as anyone could.<br/><br/>As the last note echoed into the parking lot, Orianna opened her eyes and looked up. Quite a crowd had gathered to watch, and the applause was spectacular. She smiled – a genuine, earnest grin – and stood to bow, before packing up her instrument and returning to Ellen. Already, the old Orianna was starting to show. She simply nodded and whispered soft gratitude to anyone who congratulated her or expressed admiration, stoic and calm as ever. Pulling a spare plain black hair elastic from her cello case, she pulled her hair back into the loose bun it was always in. "Would you care for me to teach you the basics?" she asked Ellen, as if she hadn't just performed the concert of a lifetime.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">Sorry if I went a little over the top with this, I just had so much fun writing it! And I did really well on her Performance roll:<br/><br/>Performance + Charisma = 6 dice against DC 6, got five successes!</div></div>