An art festival, it something she had experienced going to before, but, with her changing attitude towards life and all things in general she was more apt to visit one. She would have to admit, the talent on display was incredible! Not just the remarkable paintings, but the music and dancing, even some of the fashion that was on display Sirona had to admit was beautiful. Nothing that she was likely to wear any time soon, but, she could at least now look at it and appreciate it for what it was, instead of thinking how much skin might be exposed.

Lady Glory had no weapons on her as she walked through the crowd, though her large white feathered wings did make her stand out. She was, however, not wearing her usual armour or her plain white clothing either. No, instead she was wearing an actual dress, one that fit her well but did not cling to her. It was still just covering her enough that what skin did show was not making Sirona too uncomfortable. Her arms from her elbows down were exposed, and her calf muscles were showing as the dress covered past her knees, it was the only way she would get into a dress if it was at least that length. The dress was mostly backless, a strap around her neck to keep the shoulder parts from falling, but a hole large enough for her wings allowing part of her back to show. She was wearing simple but comfortable shoes.

All of this already made for a striking image of an angel walking through the crowd, but Sirona also had something that many would not associate with angels; tattoos. From her wrists up past her dress, on her calf muscles and up, and on her back were black lines of ink, angelic markings, matching the kind that she had on her face and her lower lip. She had decided to come out to the festival, well, force herself to go, in order to try and get used to dressing as she was right now.

Sirona was also ignoring the looks she was getting, not only from those that just wanted to look at a pretty angel, but also those that recognised, either from seeing her before or from description. She had had a few people come up and ask for a small blessing, which she always gave with a bright smile. Otherwise she wondered around looking at things that she found interesting.

She was in a state of complete and utter despair! A beautiful fae woman wearing a loose red dress was lounged on a luxurious fainting couch, a couch she had specifically brought to dramatically faint onto whenever she felt like it. The massive stall surrounding her was being handled by her guild members. For some reason her fellow guild members didn’t trust one of the guild masters with running the stall. Then again, Ciara did plan to just give away all her goods for free with the condition of favors to be paid later. Simone quickly put a stop to that, knowing her fae tricks. So now Ciara was relaxing in the back end of the stall while the responsible guild members went to work. There was only one other person with her. A girl by the name of Amy was tasked to ensure Ciara was on her best behavior.

“Why don’t you use a farmer again? You liked that last time,” Amy suggested.

“But I’ve already done a farmer. And nobody seemed to like it.” Ciara pouted then sat up, “I need a new muse. Someone different. A refreshingly complex person with a unique behavior.”

Ciara sighed and flopped back on the couch. She peeked out from the stall’s curtains and watched as people walked by. They were each vaguely interesting in some way or another. But after over a hundred years of working with people one started to notice patterns. Patterns became predictability. If she explored each new thread it was possible to find something new. But it was just as likely to find something uninspiring. Ciara wanted to create…needed to create yet without the proper muse, she was lost. Suddenly, her eyes caught the glimpse of ebony black hair and she jumped from her couch to get a better view. The woman was tall and muscular with fair skin and unique black angelic tattoos covering her face. Her massive wings were snowy white and her dress was modest but stunning. Yet it was the woman’s eyes that drew her in the most. Those eyes glowed with courage and a sense of determination, or maybe they just glowed. Either way this mysterious woman had captured Ciara’s attention completely. She turned to Amy with a big smile on her face.

“I’ve found my muse!” She declared.

“How are you gonna get her to pose for you?” Amy asked.

“Well maybe I can ask her to join me for dinner.” Ciara smirked.

“No Ciara. You can’t flirt with people. You agreed not to flirt.” Amy reminded her.

“You're right, it might make her uncomfortable. I don’t want to scare her away.”

“Please, just ask her to be a muse normally.”

“Oh alright. Since you’re being all dramatic about it.” Ciara sighed.

The fae woman snuck out of the stall through the back then raced through the crowd to catch up with the angelic woman. Once Ciara caught up, she walked up to the woman with a dazzling smile and fell to her feet in a begging motion.

“Please oh wondrous lady! I am a miserable artist looking for a muse.” Ciara exclaimed, “You are the only one who can save my creativity now. I desperately need your help!”

Her begging was honest, as a fae she often didn’t make a direct lie. Though she may have been upping the dramatics more than necessary. Ciara made a complete bow, lowering herself to the ground like she was a peasant begging in front of a queen. She partially hoped this would work and partially just wanted to see the look on her worker's faces when they saw this.