The night was still young, the air still warm from the blazing Alternian sun. One of Four Frond's many, many parks had been hijacked by the Superstar staff in preparation for contestant booths.
Off to one side, standing on a wooden crate, was Frossa Fyrste. She was barking orders to a small handful of workers, instructing them on where
precisely to hang strings of lights for the most aesthetically pleasing display. Someone neared her and held up two different bunches of balloons- one in various shades of purple, one black, purple and pink. She slapped both of them out of their hands. 'YELLOW', she articulated so clearly, even the dullest of trolls could have read the words on her lips.
Everything had to be
perfect. There was no room for error.
Speaking of which- Frossa turned to peer down at the crate she was standing on. It was marked with the logo of Underworld. It seemed like all of her sponsorship merchandise was accounted for, except for Lorata Gorgos' eyewear. She'd only met the seadweller a few times as acquaintances, but had requested a sponsorship solely out of purpleblood solidarity. Maybe they could get lunch or something! It was always good to have more classy, capable, purpleblooded friends.