'Allo! I am 'ere! I mean...here. I've been a little busy this past week. You see, we're very cut off from Lower Ziara up here, in our huge golden ballroom. I've felt very trapped up here on occasion. I’ve filled my boredom in unhealthy ways, with people who were not good for me. Not all of them! I’m not exactly a prude, here, and I know what I enjoy in my life. But a lot.



I was out walking, away from my home, and I met a new friend. An actual friend! Not a “brass petal” friend. They lent me a new outfit and took me to a special kind of party - a party in the very underbelly of Ziara. It was nothing like the Masquerade Ball! And the dancing was so… different. I have never felt so alive. I think there is a gap to be bridged between us, a gap that shouldn’t be so hard to close but seems to remain so. I wanted to help, and my friend suggested bringing some of their fashions and customs to the ball, to let the other ball goers get a sense of who they are below, just to begin with. We have to begin somewhere. So I present to you: fashions and drinks of Lower Ziara!



Oh, you’re wondering where my accent went? I’ve lived in Ziara for a long time now. It’s been largely gone for a while, but I think I held on to it on purpose as a sense of identity. It feels… fake, now. I don’t want to be fake any more. I want to dance.