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that everything looked this blue through Sinatra's eyes. She moves in smooth, fluid steps. Her stilt-like, skinny legs never lock in place when her tiny feet strike the cold asphalt underneath her toes and beneath the flimsy sole of her boots. Instead, her limbs continue to move, bend and flow as she strides forth, the cycle mimicking that of a feline in look, rather than that of a human being. But alas, Eleanor carries on unnoticed. She blends in with the masses of the city. She is small, too small almost, moreso than the towering passerbys. Her milky-white porcelain skin is blemished by the shadows and grime of this filthy city. She never was one to find solace amongst so many others. She successfully avoided metropolitan areas for centuries. Why she ended up here, and now, is still rather unclear to her. The fae continues to move unnoticed by the many tonight, rounding one busy block and heading toward another. Her face is lit by the colors of the screens and signs all around her. Humans are busy making purchases, eating food, drinking, talking. Eleanor merely walks along until she reaches a park entrance. There she scales its wall, easily 15 feet high, and haphazardly prances atop its linear path. Eleanor | Fairy | Vinyl |