[Paris] Veni, vidi, vici. [Farren]

Top Witches' fashion week was coming to an end, but the energy of the entire city was surging. Similar to muggles, top witch and wizard designers had their own shows, which always ended up being the most extravagant of all. This was the end of all of the spring and summer collections to be featured in the upcoming seasons. First was New York, then Milan, and finally, Paris.

Truth be told, Amara had not had much time to explore the depths of Paris. While here, she was mostly tied up with all of her work. Amara Cast was in high demand for many of the runways and photoshoots occurring, and managed to fit as much as she possibly could into her schedule. She made sure to carry a small magical camera to take snaps of some of the architecture and the people she encountered. Most of the time during her stay this week had been consumed with fashion shows, runways, interviews, meetings, photoshoots, etc. Tonight was the last night and while she was a little sad that this exciting time was coming to an end, she was also a little relieved as well. She was looking forward to going home to London after all of this time traveling around.

The last runway show of the evening featured a variety of beautiful gowns and very large pieces of jewelry that glittered different colors depending on which angle the light hit them. The models on the runway reflected rainbow shards of light as they walked in front of a completely entranced audience. The music was that of a soft classical sound, which seemed to transform the models into an alternate time. They looked reminiscent of angels, or aliens. Each model's skin was completely dewy and appeared moist, their makeup very pale, with long white eyelashes. Glitter adorned their crowns and hair. Amara was almost always the first model or the last to walk down the runway. This was mostly due to her extreme beauty, as well as the fact that she was actually extremely short. Amara was only about five feet tall, so she always stuck out a show. However, she had a gait that could not be matched. Perhaps it was her veela powers that made her appear to literally float as she walked down the runway. She was almost flying - her grace was unreal.

During the jostle and stress of backstage, Amara had caught glimpse of a familiar face. Could it be?

She was first up this evening, leading a group of over twenty other models who came down behind her. Thousands of flashing bulbs nearly blinded her as she tried to keep a steady balance. No sweat. The entire runway show seemed to happen in fast forward. There was always so much build up and stress until the final moments where the vision all comes together as whole. After the show, Amara was rushed backstage, stripped of her beautiful gown and back into her regular clothes. Black dress, black heels, black cloak, crescent moon pendant on a long silver chain. She still donned sparkles in her hair and the dewy white makeup. She kind of liked it to be honest. When the crowds started to clear away, Amara found the familiar face she had spotted just before the show. She made her way over to her old classmate. Now she was starting to become unsure if it was actually the right person, because of all of the makeup. Amara slowly stepped over to her.

"Farren?"

The pulse of fashion week was undeniable. The lights, the music, the frantic rush, the glamour, the scandals, and the beauty were intoxicating. Ren hadn't attended fashion week in nearly three years but being back felt good. She was the VIP guest for two of her favorite designers. Pierre Dumas' show was the following day as he was one of the last to show. Her constant friend and supporter the aging French designer often thought to embody classic witches couture had used Farren as his muse before, during and now after the war though her presence was much more sedated since the war. She'd horrified her family and her future fiance's when at 17 she walked the Paris cat walk for Dumas and appeared in a years worth of print ads for him. Once the war began she took a lower profile and less influence in his work for her safety but now that things were over they'd discussed a collaboration. Tonight thought wasn't about old favorites. It was about the new, daring and exciting.

All around her ethereal women scampered around getting in place for the show. The show on order tonight was of a dear but somewhat new friend.  Bonheur had been barely breaking into the fashion world when she was big into the scene. Now the designer had the most talked about show of the week. Farren had posed for the first major line she'd created and now she was backstage half watching the chaos half wooing the press. Bonheur herself had designed a gown for Farren to wear, a long black velvet sheath that somehow seemed to glimmer faintly as if dusted with the dullest of glitter. The front had a deep, wide V neck that was covered with a mostly sheer black mesh that made it look as if her own flesh was delicate black silk. The wais was sinched tightly with a wide silk belt that flopped over in a sloppy bow off her hip. In the spirit of things she wore a heavy white foundation with dramatic lip. Her hair was slicked back somewhat, a thin veil of shimmer holding it back.

As the line up of models began to walk out for their last run, the finale, she was jostled to the back of the room, stepping out of their path with the reporters and fashion mavens watching the action backstage. As they paraded back from the cat walk Farren was sucked into discussion with a reporter from Vouge Witch, asking her about her relationship with Bonheur and how she found herself back in the fashion world after such a long stint off the headlines. Begrudgingly she began to answer him when her name was called.

It was easy to see who was calling for her, in fact she wasn't sure how she'd missed her this whole evening. An old face, a pre war familiar face was striding across the frantic backstage towards her. A tiny fireball like always it was undeniable who this was. Practically elbowing the reporter away so Amara had a clear path she cocked her head, almost disbelieving that someone from that former life was here now.

"Amara?! How can it be? I didn't know...." she stopped abruptly she wanted to say she didn't know she'd survived the war but press was about and there was not dirty war talk in that case. "I didn't know you were modeling still! I'm so behind the times now in Paris!" She smiled warmly and reached for her old housemate's hand.