primrosella | Quest 146

[Accidental Video Post]

[Rosella is standing near the edge of the lake in Xanadu, her back to the camera as she gazes out over the water. This is the second time in two days that she's come out here, but this time she is alone, a solitary figure wrapped up snugly in a bright red cloak. She moves, and there is a brief glimmer of silver as she raises her flute to her lips and begins to play, gentle and sad. It's not a perfect rendition by any means, but she's not playing to perform; indeed, from the way she's acting, it's clear she doesn't even realize that her device is recording at all.

As she draws to a close, she slowly lowers her flute and stands a moment in silence before beginning to speak.]

It's strange, isn't it, to watch the world fall to pieces before your very eyes?

[She glances down at her flute, then back up again at the rip in the barrier, out over the water.]

Once upon a time, I would've believed it was really you out there. But how many times I have I learned, again and again, that all they ever do is spin out lies and half-truths and hollow promises? Maybe the truth really is that they'll never let us go.

Maybe I'm the awful one, that I can't find it in myself to believe so easily anymore.

This world and that world, and I'm halfway between. I don't know what the right answer is, Daddy. I don't know what the right thing to do is this time. I can't choose. I don't want to choose, don't make me...

[An abrupt pause, as she covers her face with her free hand and chokes on her words. A minute later, when she's managed to compose herself, she returns to speaking, softer than before.]

There was a day, once upon a time, when I accepted the thought that I'd never see any of you again. But I will. I know I'll see you again. I'll be home someday, I promise.

But this isn't home. It's nothing but a lie.

[She stands in silence a moment, the wind playing about the hem of her cloak and the curls of her hair, and then she raises the flute and begins to play once more.]

[OOC: Yeah, um, she's having a really bad week. So much for December looking up with the coming of the holidays? Right. Anyway, the link is not necessarily the exact song she's playing, but it's pretty and fit the mood, so there you go. Action for anybody out by the lake, Network for everyone else.]

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(Sorrow listens to the flute, the music bringing a momentary damp gleam to his eyes. She plays with passion, and anguish, and it whispers on the wind in such a beautiful stream of sound that he has to pause and listen to the entirely of the piece. Her voice follows behind, soft but still audible, and he looks up at the huge tear in the sky.

The world is falling apart, it is true. And the deities are terrible entities, tricksters at best and sadists at worst. Why should such a girl suffer, why anyone, why here...

He approaches close enough for his voice to be heard, low and warm in the still air. His footsteps are silent, so it seems as if the voice has come suddenly.)

It may be a lie,

(He steps behind her, about two feet away now, and pulls his black cloak closer about him; the voice has drawn closer.)

but it is all that we have, here.

[She flinches at the sudden sound of another voice behind her, but while it does make her lower her flute, she doesn't turn around. She's watching the rip in the barrier, eyes fixed on the images it's showing her.]

What I see looks like my home, but it isn't. I know it isn't. It's nothing but a trick.

(Now he steps beside her, a tall albino man in a rough black cloak with its hood pulled back. He looks at the rip, following her gaze.)

Is it? The deities seem in consternation. I am tempted to go through, to try to go home.

But then, we were never let go so easily.

I think it only shows what we want to see, not what's really there.

[She glances to the side, looking him over, and then looks back quickly, lest she be caught watching him too long.]

It's home, but it's wrong.

~~It did not show me, what I wanted to see. Perhaps she has a point.~~

(He bows his head for a moment in memory of what was behind his own rift, then looks over to her with a warm but sad smile. Home. Whatever home was to her. Such an inviting concept. But the City was all about striking hard and fast, or pulling in a person and then cutting them down when they least expected it.)

...I must agree. It looks so familiar, doesn't it? But perhaps we would find nothing at all, behind the gaps.

Whatever we'd find, it wouldn't be what they promised it would be.

[Her lips tighten into a thin line.]

Do you intend to go, then?

(He takes a long, slow breath and looks up at the split in the sky.)

...I do not know.

[She ducks her head, turning her eyes to the water for once, instead of the visions above her. It's easier to pretend to search for Ellington in the depths of the present lake than to see the crystal blue ones in Daventry sparkling back at her from beyond the barrier. Especially when she knows that such lakes aren't really waiting for her when she does go home.]

I won't. But I suppose everyone has to make their own choice, in their own way.

Quest 146

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