"Oh for the Sun's sake!" Mith stamped her little foot. This was not how things were supposed to go. You can't get paid if the place burns down! Throwing her hands up into the air in disgust- the things she had to do. Bringing her hands back down a massive golden axe shimmered into existence...
The beat had started, something common with a Southern flavour. Perhaps. She could always be terribly wrong of course. Pushing those distracting thoughts from her mind she flowed into something close to a belly dance, the sleeves of her top trailing in vivid streaks behind her, while her...
Ugh. The things she was finding herself doing recently. She never would have stepped foot into this place before. Before, she wouldn't have had to. Before... That thought sobered her up like an icicle to the spine. She was here now, and she had an audience to entertain and some coin to earn...
Name: Mithril Zia
Age: 21
Gender: Female
Weight: 110lbs
Height: 5'1"
Quotes:
Description:
Short. But no, seriously. Her heritage makes for an unusual combination of looks. She is small, dainty even, with thick white hair cascading down her back. Her almond eyes are a green so dark...
Remmi scooted to one side, pale. The massed troops hold her attention, eyes picking out banners and numbers, conditions and attitudes. Quiet, mindless chatter died on her tongue. Her eye flicked to Violet and his omnipresent alcohol, half envious of the foresight.
"Now that's not a sight you...