<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/5/5a/Lady_wizard3.jpg)<br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Sharell Zenteno</strong> (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=299823.msg14669618#msg14669618)</div></div><br/>Curtain call had seen Five Eyes make a reappearance in her original costume - she had gone to all the effort to make the switcheroo and certainly she wasn't going to be seen without it now. Although the adulation was quite gratifying, the tempering thought that she was doing this to hunt and to pursue justice was at the forefront, and while she smiled it was easier for her to keep her composure than the other rookies. Frankly, she was gratified that she hadn't been thrown out of the theater and their quest brought to a speedy conclusion as they were run out of town. Their patron had been as good as hir word in providing them with the means to enact their own particular justice. That was reward enough, even if she didn't shy away from the half-elf's squishy, enthusiastic hugs.<br/><br/>"A local thing, hm, yes," Sharell had plucked the black rose and was turning it over in her hands as she sat, legs crossed, atop a stool in the dressing room. She was already busily smoking again, and the sweet scent of her own special concoction mixed quite pleasantly with that of the flowers. Alizeh's mystic sight would reveal that while the flowers were in no way magical, whatever Sharell had in her pipe very much was. She had given the tea a pass, and was resigned to getting her hands on the brandy whenever Brigette happened to be busy with softer things. As indeed she seemed to be - Sharell suspected that winding up the bookish elf was going to be a popular pastime backstage.<br/><br/>Still, she had been addressed. Did she make Mara nervous? That was certainly one explanation of why she was checking Sharell out. Oh, but she might have some fun of her own. "Macabre, Mara?" she said, a twinkle in her eye, "Melodramatic, maybe. It may be maudlin to call it melancholic, mayhap instead mark it as morose. Moreover, moving it might be but it's marred by marriage to mendacity; merely mention murder and memories are mired in mortification, but mischance to meet the misgivings of the masked, and make measure of your own mortality.<br/><br/>For the rose, I suspect it's a prelude to recruiting for a local murder cult." She smiled grimly, "more fool them."<br/><br/>Of course she would give comment on her companions' performance in time, but her attention was caught by Henry having trouble. "I've met men who've lived double lives before, but rarely did they keep them so close together," she said, exhaling a faint mist, "are you sure you're all right? There'll be good days and there'll be bad days in our future, there's no need to beat yourself up over a single setback."