"Make it out to...'My number one fan'," Raven said with a coyish smile, eyes dipped down as she lifted one perfectly painted nail to her lips. She looked at him through the soft curls that tumbled over her eyes, and almost laughed, but not quite.
As for the trout that had been talking with him? She considered herself a savior for having rescued Jacoby Wilkes from a badly dressed, whoreish-monster of the Gothic depths. The sea was tragically filled with the less than talented, and less than remarkable. But it had the occasion 'worst in show' to display as well.
Nothing anywhere as near the prefection that Jabocy and Raven could achieve in simply existing.
Vain? That would have been a kind way of saying it. She was a sin made flesh and had little care in what people thought of it. Her greatest fear, nearly, was growing out and one day to be faced with the inevitable decay of glamor and beauty.
Though she was an artist. Perhaps she would die a tragic, but remember-able death.