♫ ａｒｉａ | video
[The woman that stands before you... okay not actually before you but you know in the mirror... come on, dude, you're harshing my rhythm! Look, the woman who stands before you is looking... oddly calm, all things considered. Well okay by 'all things' I guess I really just mean the fact that you haven't seen her around before, so... she's probably a new arrival? Or stealthy as fuck.
She's about to answer that for you, actually, but hold up a sec.
The woman's quirking an eyebrow at the mirror... and then, she turns to the side - off-'camera', as it were - and starts to ask a question:]
Can others really see-
[...and stops. Fucking cat ran off. Why are cats such assholes, regardless of all mitigating factors?
She turns back to you lovely folk.]
I suppose I shall assume the best, then.
[She holds up her greeting scroll, and gestures at it vaguely.]
Your Highness... or whomever might see this, I suppose. Your invitation is kind - tempting, even [ - and, for a second, the mask slips, and she's tired, just so goddamn tired, after seven years of uncertainty, fight and flight and heartache, and the thought of being cared for, of having her worries removed from the equation was a siren's song... but the moment passes, her expression turns impassive once more, and she continues - ] - but I'm afraid I must decline. Putting my own interests before those of my countrymen would be inexcusable.
[She rolls the scroll up, and places it on the ground, out of the mirror's view; that done, she crosses her arms, and gives the mirror a more critical look.]
...of course, this isn't really an invitation, is it? These are your 'Gardens', are they not? And my songs of travel do not seem to function... meaning, I am effectively your prisoner, unless I misread the situation.
So, then... tell me, if you would. What is it that you wish to 'build'?
[She gives the mirror one last appraising look, and then appears to be done...
....but the recording doesn't end. And, judging from her consternation, she realizes as much, given the continued presence of the mirror. Guh... she's just gonna leave it, whatever. IT'S FINE.
--oh, but, let's not be rude. She steeples her fingers, and gives the Vine a little bow, and a few murmured words of gratitude.
...
And the recording ends. Wow, see what happens when you're nice to your computer?]
She's about to answer that for you, actually, but hold up a sec.
The woman's quirking an eyebrow at the mirror... and then, she turns to the side - off-'camera', as it were - and starts to ask a question:]
Can others really see-
[...and stops. Fucking cat ran off. Why are cats such assholes, regardless of all mitigating factors?
She turns back to you lovely folk.]
I suppose I shall assume the best, then.
[She holds up her greeting scroll, and gestures at it vaguely.]
Your Highness... or whomever might see this, I suppose. Your invitation is kind - tempting, even [ - and, for a second, the mask slips, and she's tired, just so goddamn tired, after seven years of uncertainty, fight and flight and heartache, and the thought of being cared for, of having her worries removed from the equation was a siren's song... but the moment passes, her expression turns impassive once more, and she continues - ] - but I'm afraid I must decline. Putting my own interests before those of my countrymen would be inexcusable.
[She rolls the scroll up, and places it on the ground, out of the mirror's view; that done, she crosses her arms, and gives the mirror a more critical look.]
...of course, this isn't really an invitation, is it? These are your 'Gardens', are they not? And my songs of travel do not seem to function... meaning, I am effectively your prisoner, unless I misread the situation.
So, then... tell me, if you would. What is it that you wish to 'build'?
[She gives the mirror one last appraising look, and then appears to be done...
....but the recording doesn't end. And, judging from her consternation, she realizes as much, given the continued presence of the mirror. Guh... she's just gonna leave it, whatever. IT'S FINE.
--oh, but, let's not be rude. She steeples her fingers, and gives the Vine a little bow, and a few murmured words of gratitude.
...
And the recording ends. Wow, see what happens when you're nice to your computer?]