001 // intro || good good girl with a troubled mind

[pixiesinmyhead]

[Wandering the hallways and ducking away from windows, Drusilla seems more curious about than bothered by her arrival.]

A pretty sort of fairy tale for pretty little princesses and princes, innit...

[It's not because she understands what's going on, she very much doesn't.  After another moment of contemplation, her expression turns to a full-blown

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[ruined_jaw]

[Here, Drusilla, have a monstrous British kid, his face and chest all wrapped up with what looks like black bandages. He gives you a sympathetic look, knowing the look of a newbie when he sees one.]

{That's...a surprisingly accurate assessment, luv. Like somethin' out o' a dream, this place is, yet here we all are. My name's Jonothan.}

[pixiesinmyhead]

[There's something unusual about this boy, Drusilla can tell, but it's not particularly troublesome to her right now.]

Someone's dream, only they don't know us all the way.

[She holds her dress out, bobbing into a curtsy.]

I'm called Drusilla.

[ruined_jaw]

[Jono gives a polite nod, his look still sympathetic. He's known odd women in his life, so Drusilla's stream-of-consciousness dialect doesn't throw him much.]

{Place's pretty accommodating, despite. Almos' like we're th' dreamers, makin' our own shared reality out of something not ours.}

{You must've jus' arrived. How much've you been told 'bout this place?}

[pixiesinmyhead]

Fabricating what we want of fantasy and memory.

[Her looking around them isn't out of avoiding the conversation; she's just curious, and for her talk of manners, doesn't register that some might think that's strange.]

Haven't heard much at all -- figured some, a dream isn't always read so easily.

[ruined_jaw]

{Right. Seems like mos' people surround 'emselves with th' comfortable an' familiar. I'm no different, really.}

[Fortunately for Dru, Jono's not too concerned about manners. Discombobulation, and curiosity were both pretty common things upon first arrival in Paradisa.]

{Well, I'll tell ya a bit. Place's called Paradisa, we lose something...something precious to ourselves as an "entry fee" of sorts. It can be a memory, or a precious object, or even a skill, a talent you may've had. Near as I know, there's no way t'get what's taken back. Y'get a journal upon arrivin' with yer name on it, what let's ya talk t'other people here. Y'can write in special filters, so only certain people can hear or read you.}

{An'...yeah, you can literally wish for whatever you want, an' it's provided. Bigger things take a bigger wish, though, s'keep it reasonable.}

[pixiesinmyhead]

Makes this someone else's world a bit more our own.

[She listens attentively - well, as attentively as she ever listens to anything - and nods at each thing.]

And all sorts are here, but it's only those here we can talk to? Bigger wishes mean...? An extra thought, a sacrifice?