Glass Dolls

The Leviathan of the Stars - 3

"I find it peculiar that you look down on me for this 'simple lifestyle,' as you deem it. Did you really not get any thrill from your own hunt?"

From The Interrogations of The Starlight Unra'xi held by Conductor Velvette.

Level of Refraction: -202 degrees.

A piercing whistle reaches Lev'viat'han. Its owner is some greasy, balding man that shoots a lecherous grin at her. She smiles back.

Of course, she hasn't really stopped smiling since she's started working at the Casino Verberanna. For some reason, she's found, the simple facial expression makes people much less suspecting of her, and easier to manage. This is a tremendous boon when you are an incredibly weakened cosmic dragon struggling to hold your makeshift form together.

But... she's stabilized. At least somewhat. It's no longer all she can manage to not scatter into a cloud of atoms, and she's started to prepare for her hunt once again. Being stripped of her honor and identity won't stop this.

In the meantime, she has a place to sleep and eat, and all she has to do is stand there in return. Suspended on a platform high above the heads of the patrons to the casino, Lev'viat'han is in charge of wearing a bunny suit (custom made to account for her stature) and holding a sign beckoning the guests into the building.

She doesn't quite understand the concept. Her entire life has been dedicated to moving from one planet to the next, snuffing out the mortal terrors where they try to take root in developing civilizations.

And now...

"Levvy, you're good to go on break!" Her manager pokes his head through the hatch behind her.

"Okay." Her voice has fully developed, it's now deep and smooth. For the people really paying attention to her, the calming tones can be a little bit unsettling paired with her plastic smile. Thankfully, this is N.L.V., so no one really pays attention.

Levvy squeezes her way through the tiny door to her platform. The interior of the building is somehow even more glamorous than the outside. Lights with more colors than she thought humans could produce dance and weave through the air, creating a surreal feeling to the place as she balances her way across the catwalk that takes her to the break room.

In contrast to the casino floor, the break room is small and grimy. The only other person in it, a small almond skinned lady, lets out a squeak and squeezes past Levvy when she walks in.

Even when she's doubled over, the Starwyrm's lavender hair still brushes the ceiling as she goes over to check the grimy, attached bathroom. It's empty.

"Thirty minutes." Levvy whispers to herself.

That's the amount of time she has before she must return to her post. The timeframe feels microscopic to someone that's been alive as long as she has, but the casino owner has been so generous up to this point, it must just seem that way to her. As long as Levvy keeps her sights set to mortal scale, she thinks that she should be back in time.

Crossing over to the singular, tiny window in the gray room, she's barely able to squeeze out of it. During the several story fall to the dank alleyway below, the Starwyrm's tail begins to grow back, poking its way out of the leotard. By the time she lands the scaly, alabaster appendage has fully formed, now ten feet in length.

She keeps it hidden while at work, but it really does take a great deal of mental energy to walk fully bipedally. Slinking out onto the street, Levvy deftly weaves in and out of the pulsating masses, searching for a mark. Relatively speaking, she actually got fairly lucky with where she crashed down. While it may not be to the same degree that it would affect an entire planet with a binding ritual, people in N.L.V. rely on Fate much more than usual.

The desire to win.

Knowing something good must be coming.

Levvy can see pale red auras dripping off of nearly everyone in this busy, brilliant, disgusting traffic square. Locating the strongest one, she clenches her crimson fists and sets off for it.