Bow fixed, the aluminium sparkles in the stage light, "You said it was suppose to look silver... but I am pretty sure this isnt what I should carry..." A frown on my lips, "They dont have the same shine as my sandles!" Looking down at the glitter covered sandles, "These ones are really silver? What poor man is supporting this production?"

Clearing my throat to get back into character, "I mean... Look I caugh a moonbeam in my hand?" A stagehand gives me a nun's habit and then tugs it off my head. What on earth? Brushing my fingers through my hair, "When are we going to kill some ungreatful mortals, dear brother?" I turn my innocent grey eyes towards the would-be Apollo and flutter long lashes at him.