Days Gone

The day had been a busy one, for sure. Orion had spent the majority of it scurrying back and forth from ballroom to the little hole in the wall wherein he conducted his business. Despite what perhaps this location may suggest, the near constant visits from couriers, servants and the like made it clear this was a business in which the social royalty frequented. Not in person, of course, but by proxy. Either way they were clients, and Orion was tasked with arranging only the finest of bouquets and other floral arrangements for the many balls and festivities often held by the Ivras elite. Orion wasn't exactly a social butterfly, and thus wasn't too sure about what possible purpose could so many balls and parties have, however he also knew the sheer power in social gatherings, and the desire not to be alone. He tended to go about combating loneliness in other ways, such as through a small get together with his closest of friends, but he knew that was simply his preference. Not to mention, without so many balls and other parties, he wouldn't have the privilege of getting to work with flowers for a living. The pale man smiled wanly, nodding in response to another servant's question, then making his way through the winding halls into the grand ballroom. And grand it certainly was.

This wasn't the first time he'd done arrangements for this particular socialite, and he suspected it wouldn't be his last, however, he also knew he likely would never adjust, or become used to, the sheer grandeur of the place. He loved the architecture, the sheer breadth and width of the room. It was grand indeed. The remainder of the afternoon seemed to fly by with a speed even Oreo wasn't accustomed to, but he certainly didn't mind. It meant for him, as the guests began trickling in, the band began playing, and the food was set out on the finest of china, silks and cloths; the hardest part of his day was done. Now he was able to linger and enjoy the gorgeous music, and the way the sweet floral scent of his flowers wreathed throughout an otherwise crowded room. He never really knew anyone at these functions, though he was fortunate enough to have a benefactor or two who, in their words, "could not allow him to enter a ballroom looking anything less than his best" and therefore had been his fashion gurus, so to speak. He often looked handsome and sleek in his finery, however when approached by strangers, other party-goers, things never lasted very long, since he couldn't speak. Hadn't since he was a boy. Not a fact which was widely known, and it wasn't as though he could just tell them.

How he wished Elara was there, she would be able to speak for him, and was always there to ground him. She wasn't there at present, nor was Oreo really sure where she had gone, just that she wasn't there, and he felt her absence in his very soul. His familiar was important to him, and he wondered if perhaps she was not there because of him. The pale young man was comfortably perched in a corner he had dubbed as "his" primarily because he always lurked there whenever he attended a ball in this particular estate. Always ready with a bright smile for any who gave him the slightest glance, the young man ruffled his feathers against his back, tucking downy wings back in neatly, noting absently that he would likely have to remember to collect the feathers he shed afterwards. He didn't have to, it was more out of courtesy and the fear of irritating his otherwise very, very generous clients. His pale gaze lifted at the sound of someone approaching, and at a rather hasty clip at that. He was impressed at the speed with which they could manage through the throng of socialites, though truthfully by speed, Oreo meant a fast walk, still acceptable within the social standards.