trois - video - day
[Oh no, look who it is... who gave this crazy wretch a PORTAL? She is looking especially crazed today, in all honesty. Her dark hour is a stringy mess around her slime face, the knotting of it almost as intricate as the lace of her mask. She also seems to be a state of rather noticeable undress, all she has on over her skin is a sheer black robe that hid nothing with its gauze when closed; coincidentally, it was not, the light fabric flapping around her as she wanders the halls of Camelot.
She moves like a sleepwalker, or purpose like the purveyor of a zoo, stopping often to peer curiously at nothing at all: cracked stone? damp pools of stagnant water? lichens?--(skeletons. memories. spirits.)
She is clearly delighted with this empty place, a dazed smile curling her lips, and she has this wisdom to impart upon the network, oh no, she has not forgotten you there!]
For he who has not folded in his arms
A skeleton, nor fed on graveyard charms,
Recks not of furbelow, or paint, or scent,
When Horror comes the way that Beauty went.
[Quoting Baudelaire in a singsong voice. No one is at all surprised that she has such a thing memorized.]
She moves like a sleepwalker, or purpose like the purveyor of a zoo, stopping often to peer curiously at nothing at all: cracked stone? damp pools of stagnant water? lichens?--(skeletons. memories. spirits.)
She is clearly delighted with this empty place, a dazed smile curling her lips, and she has this wisdom to impart upon the network, oh no, she has not forgotten you there!]
For he who has not folded in his arms
A skeleton, nor fed on graveyard charms,
Recks not of furbelow, or paint, or scent,
When Horror comes the way that Beauty went.
[Quoting Baudelaire in a singsong voice. No one is at all surprised that she has such a thing memorized.]