Welcome to Gaia! ::

It was the moment he had been waiting for all night. Amonee had specially come all the way to the Four Fronds just for this visit. The jadeblood waited in line excitedly, standing on his toes occasionally to look over everyone else at the purpleblooded star that they had all come to see. Frossa was just as adorable and charming as ever!

He had been singing the song ever since it had played on his TV screen. Nucleo was beside himself with how often Amonee had hooked it up to the cafe's sound system. They had instituted a 'once an hour' policy to limit the painter's enthusiasm for his artistic muse. Amonee had grudgingly agreed- it was better than them outright banning it completely. Finally, it was his turn to meet the booth's star.

"Frossa, I'm so proud of you! You were amazing on screen the other night." He gushed, grabbing the girl's hands while talking fast and loud. "Your song was so catchy and your dancing was just! So! Cute! Oh and I loved your outfit- see, I put together a bow to match out of some stuff I had around the hive!" He had not been able to match the colors perfectly but he had done his best. It was pinned to the front of his T-shirt with a safety pin. Busthind craftsmanship at its finest.

"Eeeek, before I forget, can we please take a picture together?" He held up the polaroid camera he'd brought with him all the way from NHC where he'd picked it up from Elidae.

Caiden was skipping along, just as happy as could be. There was the amazing event happening, he had a photo of autumn, and the excitement could almost be felt in the air, as all the contestants went around the booths, admiring and being admired. The boy saw a certain shade of purple and squeaked. He remembered that color, that was FROSSA! "FROSSA FROSSA!" The boy yelled, jumping up and down as he neared the girl. "Frossa its me Caiden! Do you remember me? I remember you Frossa! Its so nice to see you! Hi how are you doing?! Oh my gosh you look SO CUTE! ARE YOU A SUPERSTAR CONTESTANT?!?"

"No dad listen to me—" Emiola was standing there with her hands smashed together. She tilted them down towards her lusus in a very plain you just don't understand pops kind of gesture, "You just don't get it 'cause you don't got friends, and I can't fault you for that, but I gotta at least say hi."

Maccue's response was a deadened stare, because almost getting kicked out of a music store in Four Fronds was not his idea of we're friends now. Then again neither was feeding the feral forest dwellers, or fraternizing with seadwellers, or—

"'Sides pop, just look." She motioned to the booth in the distance, "That's some like, gonna be on TV s**t."

Maccue's response was the same deadened stare.

"FROSSSSSAAAAA!" Emi called out obnoxiously, hi hello hi.

Emi let herself be tackled willingly, but she was robust enough (or Frossa was small enough) that she didn't immediately buckle backwards from the force. It was, honestly, probably a mixture of both. "Duh!!! Whoa whoa wait—" Emi had her hands on Frossa's arms as she was shaken around, her voice uneven and hiccupy every time the velocity threw her in another direction.

She threw both of her hands onto Frossa's cheeks, her eyes wide like saucers behind her messy bangs, "YOU'RE A REAL MUSICIAN?" Tonight just kept getting better and better, "Oh my god? Oh my god..." The hands were retracted, but only so Emi could cradle her own face with wonder. "You gotta—we gotta—"

She inhaled sharply through her nostrils, "CAN WE JAM? Or high five? That's swaggy too."


melona-pan
Oooh! Please! I want one of those!
Name: Emiola Vivaci
Swag: sdfdsds i just started to picture her with sunglasses over her hair and im dying b***h theyre Gucci™
Request: PLS PLS PLS LEMME ON THE STAGE FOR A SONG

“Princess Purpure!!”

Jumping up and down at the back of the line was an enthusiastic brownblood. She held a metal pitcher high in the air and waved it vigorously back and forth. Water sloshed out over the side. The troll standing in front of her let out a shout as some spilt onto their back. They turned over their shoulder to scowl at the brownblood, but she paid them no mind.

“Lookie here!” Lutrin mouthed when she thought she had at last caught Frossa's eye. She balanced the pitcher on one hand over her head and pointed to it with clear delight. “It's for youuuu~~~!!” she mouthed again. She wiggled her eyebrows for dramatic effect. She was not sure that Frossa could read lips from that distance (nor that she could read lips at all), but in that case it merely made for a better surprise. Still, Lutrin could hardly wait to give it to her. She waited through the line with increasing agitation.

“Surprise!!” Lutrin cheered when she reached the booth. She slammed the pitcher on the counter. A spray of water went up into the air. Miraculously, none of it splashed the starlet or her merchandise and instead fell straight back into the pitcher. “You never told me you were a celebrity!” Lutrin exclaimed, eyes wide with reverent delight. “How cool is that? It's like you're... you're... well, I was going to say famous, but that's sort of the point. Anyway, I guess should have figured it out. Being a princess makes you a celebrity by default, doesn't it? Ehehe...”

Regarding the purpleblood with a sly expression, Lutrin clapped her hands together and held them in front of her chin. She drummed her fingers together. Then her thought process caught up with her, and she remembered what she had come to do. With a little hop, she pushed the pitcher towards the purpleblood. “I brought you this!” she explained. “Working in front of the cameras all night seems like hard work, so I thought you could use a little refreshment. But then I thought that everyone else must be taking really good care of you, because of how important you are! So I got you this instead! Look! Look!!” Gripping the edge of the counter in excitement, the brownblood held her breath and watched for the Frossa's reaction.

Floating on the surface of the water were several slices of lemon and cucumber. Below the surface however was a purple starfish, clinging tightly to the bottom of the pitcher.