Isadora Raleigh (![]() ![]() @ 2012-04-01 02:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, !plot, don draper, {isadora raleigh |
Calming
Characters: Dora, Iridia, Don
When: Sunday, late morning
Location: back parlor car (9)
Warnings/Rating: None anticipated
Summary: Dora tries to adjust, and finds a quiet place to be calm
Status: Complete
After her encounter with the man who was meant to be her roommate, Isadora had done her best to explore the rest of the train. She hadn't gone outside, but she'd crossed paths with a few passengers. None of them had a dæmon, but she'd caught on quickly that might be the case. She was doing her best not to react to them, and she still hadn't sorted out how to explain Iridia. How was she supposed to explain what he was, exactly, to someone who'd never had a dæmon they could touch and talk to? While neither of them liked the idea, she thought she might just explain him off as a pet. It seemed ... easier, though she hoped no one was going to suggest she leash him. That was just degrading to them both. She hoped no one asked to pet him, either, because that was going to put her on an impossibly thin wire. It was a gross breach of etiquette to touch another's dæmon, but to pet someone's cat wasn't a big deal. The only reason one wouldn't put an animal, she assumed, was due to the capacity for danger. Either way, she had no desire to experience the sensation of unwelcome hands on her dæmon. She couldn't imagine Iridia would enjoy it, either. Having found some clothing that fit in the baggage car, Isadora was wearing a somewhat mismatched outfit. It was comfortable, but a far cry from the fashion she was accustomed to. Still and all, she wasn't interested in wearing her dress everywhere she went, and beggars couldn't be choosers. Perhaps at the next stop she'd find something more suitable (though she had no idea what or where Tortuga was). Strolling restlessly along the corridor of the moving train, Dora paused in one of the parlor cars. Her shoulders slumped almost immediately, and everything she'd been fretting about seemed suddenly ... pointless. Beside her, Iridia exhaled a quiet sigh of his own. Maybe there was something in the air here, but she felt ... calm. Like she'd just been given a very nice drink of something like a sedative, but without any of the negative connotations. It was just ... relaxing. Maybe she'd stay here for a little while; her thoughts didn't feel nearly so wild in here. Crossing to one of the seats, she picked up a magazine someone had left and began to thumb through it. Iridia laid himself along the floor in front of her feet. Resting his head on his paws, he sighed and half-closed his eyes. His guard was down, and he was just very, very relaxed. |