[She tries to leave. She climbs the fence, she runs and runs until she collapses onto her knees, vision black and her face meets the grass. She's never felt so powerless in her life, even when suspended, imprisoned by her own mother.
She wakes, and she does it again. She doesn't try a third time: instead she she dresses in a red dress, some sandals, and allows herself to be guided outside for breakfast. She says nothing for a long time, not touching the food on her plate, and warily watching the strangers around her. The sense of wrongness is so overpowering, so overwhelming, that she has to excuse herself, wandering into the depths of the garden to breathe.
Calm herself, the way she's been taught. Breathe. Quiet the mind. Control her thoughts, subdue her fear. In the midst of calming herself, she realises she's wandered far enough to become lost, though not alone. ]
Pardon, [she says, more polite than she feels. ] Would you show me the way back to the table? I've turned myself around, it seems.
a rose by any other name
i. [She is not familiar with these customs, but there is something tempting in purifying herself by fire. The only sentimental thing she has on her person is a necklace which was once her mothers. She holds it between her hands and contemplates it, and her mother, and herself.
The firelight flickers across her determined face, the heavy frown on her mouth, and the furrow of her brow. Quietly, she asks: ] Do you think it works?
ii. [Later, she sinks into the water with a sigh. She resisted for a while, but she's been imbibing in the drinks, the powder, and the food. She feels the best she's felt in days, the tension easing from her body with each pass of her cloth over arms.
For a while, she can't even remember why she's been so stressed, or why she's been so resistant to trust this home and her hosts. How can she mistrust anything when she feels so wonderful, the water up to her chin and so lovely? ]
Would you mind washing my back? [she asks, coyly, with a smile. Why not? She's a princess after all. ]
network
Good After-Noon.
My name is Ynez Corrino. I am assuming this name is not familiar to most, if not all of you. While I am enjoying my newfound anonymity, I find I am missing my routine from home.
Is there someone proficient in sparring, and whom would like to take a new partner? Additionally, where is best in this house to meditate?
I would also very much like to read, but I notice the Library is - temperamental. If anyone has recommendations already in your possession, and would be happy to part with them, I would be most appreciative.
ynez corrino - dune: prophecy
[She tries to leave. She climbs the fence, she runs and runs until she collapses onto her knees, vision black and her face meets the grass. She's never felt so powerless in her life, even when suspended, imprisoned by her own mother.
She wakes, and she does it again. She doesn't try a third time: instead she she dresses in a red dress, some sandals, and allows herself to be guided outside for breakfast. She says nothing for a long time, not touching the food on her plate, and warily watching the strangers around her. The sense of wrongness is so overpowering, so overwhelming, that she has to excuse herself, wandering into the depths of the garden to breathe.
Calm herself, the way she's been taught. Breathe. Quiet the mind. Control her thoughts, subdue her fear. In the midst of calming herself, she realises she's wandered far enough to become lost, though not alone. ]
Pardon, [she says, more polite than she feels. ] Would you show me the way back to the table? I've turned myself around, it seems.
a rose by any other name
i.
[She is not familiar with these customs, but there is something tempting in purifying herself by fire. The only sentimental thing she has on her person is a necklace which was once her mothers. She holds it between her hands and contemplates it, and her mother, and herself.
The firelight flickers across her determined face, the heavy frown on her mouth, and the furrow of her brow. Quietly, she asks: ] Do you think it works?
ii.
[Later, she sinks into the water with a sigh. She resisted for a while, but she's been imbibing in the drinks, the powder, and the food. She feels the best she's felt in days, the tension easing from her body with each pass of her cloth over arms.
For a while, she can't even remember why she's been so stressed, or why she's been so resistant to trust this home and her hosts. How can she mistrust anything when she feels so wonderful, the water up to her chin and so lovely? ]
Would you mind washing my back? [she asks, coyly, with a smile. Why not? She's a princess after all. ]
network
Good After-Noon.
My name is Ynez Corrino. I am assuming this name is not familiar to most, if not all of you. While I am enjoying my newfound anonymity, I find I am missing my routine from home.
Is there someone proficient in sparring, and whom would like to take a new partner? Additionally, where is best in this house to meditate?
I would also very much like to read, but I notice the Library is - temperamental. If anyone has recommendations already in your possession, and would be happy to part with them, I would be most appreciative.
Thank you.