Chapter Text
Red.
That's what wakes you up, a bright flashing red coming from the dedicated light on your wall, right above where you were sleeping. Great.
With a sigh, you sit up on the couch you were sleeping on and walk over to your closet, a mere meter away from your couch/bed. As the closet door creaks and you retrieve your work clothes (a smart button up and pants combo ruined by your stained apron) you reflect on your upcoming workday (workdays? you never know how long your shift will be). As a special effects artist for the empress' personal move studio, you get a few privileges others of your caste don't (like a room on Her Imperious Condescension's own ship, for example) but you're not nearly important enough for something like predictable work hours (ha!).
Thinking back on past jobs, this could be a quick couple cuts for a feisty pitch scene or days in a row doing stab wound after stab wound for a dramatic re-enactment of the Condesce's latest conquest. You never know until you've started, so it would be a good idea to get some food. After a quick check of your phone while changing, though, you realize that you only have three minutes to grab your gear and show up on set. No food for you, it seems. After grabbing your toolbox of various real (lowblood) and synthetic (highblood) paints, as well as the tools to apply them, you dart out of your room and towards the set. You wonder what's in store for you today...
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Hmm. This is new. it seems they've called you in for a pale scene between a general and thier consort. These injuries are usually minor enough that they'll just cut themselves and be done with it, but you were told this scene would be something more... intense. seems to be a classic "brave general is dying after fighting for their cause" but this time their palemate is there with them. Been a while since you've done something like this but, eh, a job's a job. With a (forced) smile, you patter over to your canvas, the tall and skinny violet playing the general, and try not to make eye contact with the leering purple playing his moirail (you've heard stories about that guy... none of them good) As you get started on the broad strokes, you appreciate your latest paints. All your violet paint is synthetic, but this movie is high-tier enough they shelled out for some real indigo you dyed up with synthetic fuscia. nothing beats the smell of real paint though...
With a sigh, you stop daydreaming and grab a fine brush to focus on the detail work. This scene's rife with close-ups of your work, so the details have to be perfect, even though it's only a couple stab wounds. While you're working, you notice something interesting about this actor: he's half decent to you. He seems to be pale flirting with you, asking about your health and your day, but you've learnt your lesson on quadding with violets: don't.
20 minutes of intricate details later, your work is done, for this take at least. You're rushed away as they start rolling, and absent-mindedly watch as the scene unfolds. The violet is actually playing a pretty important figure, and due to his high position an upstart olive tried killing him. He heroically defeated her, but is near-fatally wounded by the strikes, but seems he's not dying after all as his moirail swoops in to carry him to the medics. The power of love, how cute. Take's over, time for touch-ups.
The rest of your thankfully short time at work is spent touching up the details on the flirty violet's wounds and carefully avoiding the purple, as phones arent allowed on set. After a quick hour of boredom, you're ushered off set and the highblood actors walk away to wash up, violet waving at you with a warm smile on his face (highbloods, you swear). A quick walk takes you to this floor's general store for workers like you, where you grab some ramen (or "styrofoam-cup fried noodles", as the lowbloods say) with your latest cycle's credits. There's today's lunch... and dinner it seems, since it's 9 past midnight. Fun times.
While waiting for the kettle to boil (because who the hell microwaves ramen?) you look around your room, seeing if there's anything to clean up. Your living quarters are far from perfect for someone of your caste, but you get the protection and job security of working this close to the empress. You're important to her movies, so even though its small room and cup noodles for you, the safety is worth it. It's not that bad, with a kitchen, TV, cupboards, and a couch with a table to sleep, eat, and play in. Your life's pretty good, all things considered. Gets pretty lonely though.
You're broken out of reflection by the whistle of the kettle, and happily step over to pour your water into the ramen. 5 minutes of sudoku (THEY'RE FUN, OKAY?) later, the noodles are ready to eat! As you slurp them up, thankful you don't have roommates like the workers on lower floors, your mind wanders to the violet from today. It's rare that an actor cares enough to try and mess with you, let alone flirt with you, but you've seen what they're like to indigos like you. You may be a highblood, but you're nowhere near their level.
Can't lie though, a moirail would do you good. you only ascended half a sweep ago, and never got close enought to anyone to get pale with them. It's a busy ship, but there arent many indigos up here, and only very few teals or ceruleans. The purplebloods are definetely not an option. Neither are the seadwellers, you tell yourself, and resolve to get a good pile in today to take your mind off of it. But first, the noodles.